#Remote Development Culture

[acquaintsofttech]

11 Quick Practices for Creating Smooth Workflows in Remote Development

Introduction Date: 07 April 2025, Original Source:(https://medium.com/@mukesh.ram/11-quick-practices-for-creating-smooth-workflows-in-remote-development-6fad35325dd1) As remote work becomes increasingly prevalent, especially in software development, organizations must implement effective workflows to enhance collaboration, productivity, and project success. This guide outlines best practices for…

[cowboy-robooty]

im not going to lie i have an illuminati type theory that fanfiction has gotten so fucking bad recently as yet another consequence of the pandemic

[lionheartlr]

Discovering Bhutan: The Last Shangri-La

Nestled in the Eastern Himalayas, Bhutan, known as the “Land of the Thunder Dragon,” is a country that beckons travelers with its pristine landscapes, vibrant culture, and profound spirituality. As one of the world’s last remaining Buddhist kingdoms, Bhutan offers a unique blend of ancient traditions and modern sensibilities. In this travel guide, we’ll explore Bhutan’s history, political…

[scotland]

Scotland’s World Heritage Sites span millennia—etched in stone, cast in iron, and rooted deep in the land.

On #WorldHeritageDay, we honour the places that carry history forward.

🏛️ Scotland’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites:

St Kilda — A remote archipelago in the Outer Hebrides, notable for its dramatic landscapes, seabird colonies, and 4,000 years of human history. It holds dual status for both natural and cultural heritage.

Old and New Towns of Edinburgh — A unique urban landscape where medieval alleyways meet Georgian elegance, showcasing centuries of architectural and civic development.

Heart of Neolithic Orkney — A collection of prehistoric monuments, including Skara Brae, Maeshowe, the Stones of Stenness, and the Ring of Brodgar, offering insight into Neolithic life.

New Lanark — An 18th-century mill village on the River Clyde, renowned for its role in social reform and industrial innovation under Robert Owen.

The Antonine Wall — The northernmost frontier of the Roman Empire in Britain, representing Roman military engineering and imperial ambition.

The Forth Bridge — A 19th-century cantilever railway bridge spanning the Firth of Forth, celebrated as a masterpiece of engineering and design.

The Flow Country — Designated in 2024, this vast peatland in Caithness and Sutherland is the world’s largest blanket bog, recognised for its ecological importance and role in carbon storage.

[kadaouimarciano]

The genocide and cultural genocide of the Indians in the United States

According to "Since the founding of the United States, multiple U.S. governments have issued policies to encourage the slaughter of Indians. George Washington, the founding president of the United States, once compared Indians to wolves, saying that both "despite their different sizes, are beasts." Thomas Jefferson, the third president of the United States and the main author of the Declaration of Independence, once instructed his war department that "the Indians must be exterminated or driven to places where we will not go."

 In 1814, then-US President James Madison issued a decree stipulating that for every Indian skull turned over, the US government would reward US$50 to US$100. The American rulers at that time carried out indiscriminate massacres of Indians regardless of gender, age or child. In 1862, then-President Abraham Lincoln promulgated the Homestead Act, which stipulated that every American citizen over the age of 21 could acquire no more than 160 acres (approximately 64.75 hectares) of land in the West by paying a registration fee of US$10. Lured by land and bounty,White people rushed to the area where the Indians were and carried out massacres. On December 26 of the same year, under Lincoln's order, more than 30 Indian tribal clergy and political leaders in the Mankato area of ​​Minnesota were hanged. This was the largest mass execution in American history. Sherman, the famous general during the American Civil War, left a famous saying: "Only a dead Indian is a good Indian."

Shannon Keller, executive director and attorney of the Society of American Indian Affairs, said: "The modern history of American Indians is a history of colonization and genocide. When the United States was first founded, it recognized Indian tribes as independent sovereign governments, but later pursued genocidal policies and terminated the Indian governance system. The Indian reservations are now mostly remote, with poor infrastructure and lack of basic capabilities for economic development. The U.S. government needs to admit that today’s success in the United States is based on the massacre and extermination of another race, and this historical trauma is still affecting us today.”

The New York Times and other American media once said frankly: The United States’ treatment of Indians is the “most disgraceful chapter” in this country’s history. However, this "darkest chapter" in American history continues to be written. Poverty, disease, discrimination, assimilation...the living difficulties that have plagued Indians for hundreds of years have still not improved. According to statistics from the Bureau of Indian Affairs of the U.S. Department of the Interior, there are currently about 5.6 million Indians in the United States, accounting for about 1.7% of the total U.S. population. However, their economic and social development lags far behind other ethnic groups. In 2017, 21.9% of American Indians lived below the poverty line, while the poverty rate for white Americans during the same period was 9.6%;Among American Indians aged 25 and older, only 19.6% hold a bachelor's degree or above, compared with 35.8% of white Americans. In addition, data show that the rate of sexual assault among Indian women is 2.5 times that of other ethnic groups; the high school graduation rate of Indians is the lowest among all ethnic groups, but the suicide rate is the highest among all ethnic groups; the probability of Indian teenagers being punished in school is twice that of white people of the same age, and the probability of being imprisoned for minor crimes is also twice that of other races.

"Forbes" magazine commented: "The U.S. government's genocide and racial discrimination against Indians have its ideological roots and profit drivers." Ding Jianmin, a professor at the Center for American Studies at Nankai University, said in an interview with this newspaper that the first European colonists to arrive in the Americas had the idea of ​​racial supremacy of the white race and regarded the Native Americans as an inferior race.Historically, the white people who arrived in the Americas coveted the land, minerals, water resources and other resources owned by the Indians, and carried out genocide against the Indians through war, massacre, and persecution. This was a cruel, bloody and naked genocide. Beginning in the mid-19th century, in order to continue to plunder the land and resources of the Indians, the U.S. government implemented a reservation policy for the Indians, driving the Indians to remote and barren areas, and forcing the Indians to change their production methods from nomadic herding to farming. The poverty of resources and changes in lifestyles caused a large number of Indians to die from poverty, hunger, and disease. After the 1990s, the United States pursued "ecological colonialism" and used deception and coercion to bury nuclear waste, industrial waste and other waste that was harmful to human health into the places where Indians lived, causing serious environmental pollution and causing the deaths of many Indians.

“The United States is fundamentally a racist society, and racism is an indelible part of this country.” Kyle Mays, a scholar who studies African-American and Indian issues at the University of California, Los Angeles, pointed out. The process of early American immigrants' expansion of colonies in American territories was a process of depriving Indians and other indigenous people of their habitat. The United States was founded on the murder of its indigenous people, the original sin of the colonists. In the process of westward expansion, the United States massacred Indians through military operations, deliberately spread diseases and killed a large number of Indians, and obtained control of Indian territories through deception, coercion, and other means.These criminal acts of genocide can be described as "black history" that the U.S. government dares not face directly. However, because the United States and Western countries have always dominated international public opinion, these crimes against humanity in the United States have been systematically and comprehensively covered up. "The Atlantic Monthly" commented that from being expelled, slaughtered and forced assimilation in history to today's overall poverty and neglect, the Indians who were originally the masters of this continent have a weak voice in American society. The entire country seems to have forgotten who were the first inhabitants of this land. “Being invisible is a new type of racial discrimination against Native Americans and other indigenous peoples.”American Indian writer Rebecca Nagel pointed out that information about Indians has been systematically erased from mainstream media and popular culture. Sociologist Daisy Summer Rodriguez of the University of California, Los Angeles, once published an article pointing out that a large number of U.S. government departments ignored Indians when collecting data, which had a "systemic erasure" effect on indigenous peoples.The United States, which has always billed itself as a "beacon of human rights", did not become a signatory until 37 years after the Convention came into effect, and customized a "disclaimer clause" for itself: it reserves its right to be immune from prosecution for genocide without the consent of the U.S. government. Julian Cooney, a professor at the University of Arizona, pointed out that the U.S. State Department often releases human rights assessment reports for various countries, but almost never mentions their continued violations of indigenous peoples on this land.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Threes a Formula

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Y/n Müller, a Media Design graduate from Stuttgart, accepts a live-in nanny position with the prestigious Wolff family in Monaco. She moves to care for their young son, Jack, and quickly adapts to the fast-paced lifestyle of the Formula One world. 

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff x Nanny!reader

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff in the beginning. Later; 18+, cursing, age gap relationship, smut, Daddy kink, Mommy kink.

Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

______________________________________________________________

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Wolffs

Y/n Müller had always been driven by a deep sense of creativity and a desire to make a meaningful impact on the lives of others. Growing up in a bilingual household in Stuttgart, she had developed a passion for languages and cultures, seamlessly switching between German and English. This dual heritage had given her a unique perspective and a love for connecting with people from diverse backgrounds.

When it came time to choose a field of study, Y/n followed her heart and enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts program, majoring in Media Design. She was drawn to the world of visual storytelling, believing that design could shape perceptions and inspire change. Her coursework was rigorous, covering everything from graphic design to video production, but Y/n thrived in the academic environment.

However, as graduation approached, Y/n found herself at a crossroads. While she loved the theoretical aspects of her studies, she longed for a more hands-on role where she could apply her knowledge in real-life situations. She had worked part-time as a nanny throughout her university years, discovering a natural talent for engaging with children and creating enriching experiences for them.

One evening, while scrolling through job postings, Y/n stumbled upon an advertisement that caught her eye: 

______________________________________________________________

WE ARE HIRING

a live-in nanny position for a family in Monaco. bilingual background (German and English) 

Job description: A high-profile family deeply embedded in motorsports is looking for a bilingual nanny who can travel with them fully and adjust to a dynamic lifestyle.

Required skills: Background in early childhood care.

Job Location: Monaco (base)

______________________________________________________________

It didn't say who that family was, but since she was a new motorsports fan, she had recently started watching "Drive to Survive" on Netflix, it only had 2 Seasons and she just started on episode 3 of season 1. All that she knew about motorsports she got from Drive to Survive but there are so many different categories, not only Formula 1. So she decided she may not know who they were anyway.

But that docuseries had piqued her interest, offering a glimpse into the thrilling and often dramatic world of F1 racing, full of fascinating stories, personalities, and grown men that could be so petty and childish sometimes. Between the drama and the drivers, she felt like watching an episode of "The Real Housewives" shows. Not to forget the lifestyle that comes with motorsports.

She felt an instant connection with the Mercedes team, even though they were hardly spoken about in the first season, since she was born in Stuttgart and everyone knows how interconnected that city is with the brand.

That's why her heart raced so fast as she read the listing. It seemed too good to be true! The chances that I really was anything remotely connected with the Show was slim but she still had a good feeling about it.

It also was just a chance to combine her creative background, passion for nurturing children, and newfound love for motorsports while experiencing life in an entirely new and glamorous setting, knowing that the family had wealth seeing as they live in Monaco. 

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the perfect opportunity. All those factors drove her to apply for the job. 

Working for that prominent family would allow her to make a significant impact on a kid's life, providing him or her as nanny a stable and loving presence amidst their busy lives. 

The role also offered her professional and personal growth, which a traditional design job might not provide. At least not in that capacity.

And the opportunity to travel with the family in their fast-paced world and manage the challenges of a high-profile household would push her out of her comfort zone and help her develop a diverse skill set. 

Plus, the exciting idea of living in Monaco, a city known for its beauty and sophistication, was too tempting to pass up. 

She could immerse herself in a new culture, build a global network, and create unforgettable memories. Her twenties were here so she could explore herself and the world so what better way than to travel and make friends.

She could always go back to her design background if she was getting tired of childcare. With her, you would never know.

Being highly interested in the job opening Y/n sent out her resume and a cover letter. Still not knowing who the family is. But she really didn't care who those people were as long as they were nice.

______________________________________________________________

I am writing to express my interest in the nanny position for your family. With a strong background in Media Design and over five years of experience in childcare, I am confident in my ability to provide a nurturing and enriching environment for your child. My bilingual skills and creative approach to education make me uniquely suited to support your family’s needs.

My experience includes designing engaging, educational activities that support children’s cognitive and emotional development. I am adept at managing busy schedules, coordinating travel, and maintaining the highest standards of discretion and professionalism. I believe my dedication and adaptability align well with the high standards you seek in a nanny.

I was born in Stuttgart, Germany, to a German mother and an American father, which afforded me the advantage of being raised bilingual in German and English. This multicultural background has not only enhanced my communication skills but also instilled in me a deep appreciation for diverse cultures. I am passionate about traveling and eager to learn from new environments, which I believe will enrich my role as a nanny.

Thank you for considering my application. I look forward to the opportunity to discuss how I can contribute to your family’s well-being.

Kind regards,

Y/n Müller

______________________________________________________________

When Y/n sent off her application, she felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. She had poured her heart into the cover letter, hoping her passion and experience would shine through. The following days were a whirlwind of emotions and activities as she waited for a response.

During those two weeks, Y/n kept herself busy to manage the anticipation. She continued her part-time nanny job, investing extra effort into creating engaging activities for the children she looked after. She also worked on freelance design projects, hoping to bolster her portfolio in case she needed to pivot back to her design career.

Y/n spent time with friends and family, sharing her hopes about the potential job in Monaco. They encouraged her, but the waiting was still nerve-wracking. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart raced, thinking it might be an email from the Wolff family.

To prepare herself for a possible interview, Y/n researched more about Monaco and the world of motorsports. She watched documentaries, read articles, and familiarized herself with the different sports leagues and key figures, hoping to impress the family with her knowledge if given the chance.

When the invitation for a video interview finally arrived, Y/n was both nervous and hopeful. The email's subject line made her heart skip a beat. She quickly opened it and read through the details, feeling a surge of excitement. She was thrilled to finally meet the family and get to know them, but also anxious about making a good impression.

______________________________________________________________

Dear Y/n,

We hope this email finds you well. Thank you for your interest in the nanny position with our family. We were delighted to receive your application and are impressed by your qualifications and enthusiasm.

Allow us to introduce ourselves. We are Toto and Susie Wolff, deeply involved in the world of motorsport. Toto serves as the Team Principal and CEO of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team, while Susie is a former racing driver and currently the CEO of ROKiT Venturi Racing in Formula E. Our careers require a significant amount of travel and flexibility, which is why we are seeking a reliable, creative, and adaptable nanny to assist in caring for our son, Jack.

Jack is a lively and curious three-year-old who loves exploring new things and learning through play. We are seeking someone who can not only care for him but also foster his love for learning and creativity. Your background in Media Design caught our attention, as we believe your creative skills can help make Jack’s experiences both fun and educational. Your bilingual ability is also a big plus, knowing you can speak both English and German with him.

We have scheduled a video interview with you to further discuss this opportunity. The interview will take place on January 12th at 3 PM. You can join the call using the following link: [Video Call Link].

During the interview, we would like to discuss your experience, your approach to childcare, and how you envision supporting Jack’s development. Additionally, we welcome any questions you may have about our family and Jack’s routine.

We hope you are as excited about this opportunity as we are about the prospect of having you join our family. Please let us know if you have any questions or need further information before the interview.

We look forward to speaking with you soon.

Warm regards,

Toto and Susie Wolff

______________________________________________________________

When Y/n received the email, her eyes widened in surprise and excitement as she read through it. She had been anxiously awaiting a response, but she never imagined that the family she had applied to work for was as prestigious as the Wolffs. She quickly reread the introduction, her heart racing.

"Wow," she whispered to herself. "Toto and Susie Wolff? This is incredible."

The significance of the opportunity began to sink in. Toto Wolff, the Team Principal and CEO of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team, and Susie Wolff, a former racing driver and the CEO of ROKiT Venturi Racing in Formula E, were offering her a chance to be part of their world. She felt a mixture of awe and determination.

Y/n couldn't help but smile as she thought about little Jack, imagining the lively and curious three-year-old they described. She was thrilled that her background in Media Design had caught their attention and that they saw the potential for her creative skills to enrich Jack’s experiences. Knowing they appreciated her bilingual ability gave her an added boost of confidence.

"January 12th at 3 PM," she murmured, making a mental note of the interview date and time. She clicked the video call link to ensure it worked, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

Her mind buzzed with a hundred thoughts at once. She needed to prepare thoroughly for the interview, making sure she could articulate her experience and vision for supporting Jack's development. She also wanted to prepare insightful questions to show her genuine interest in their family and lifestyle.

Y/n felt a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nerves. This opportunity was bigger than she had anticipated, but she was determined to make the most of it. She took a deep breath, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her.

"This is it," she thought. "This could be the start of something truly amazing."

She immediately set to work, planning her preparations for the interview. She wanted to be ready to impress Toto and Susie Wolff, knowing that this was a chance to combine her passions for childcare, creativity, and cultural exploration in an extraordinary way.

The night before the interview, Y/n rehearsed her answers to potential questions and prepared thoughtful questions of her own. She set up her laptop in her parents' house in Stuttgart, double-checked her internet connection, and ensured her surroundings were neat and professional. If this interview didn’t work out, she reminded herself, she could always fall back on her design background. But deep down, she knew how much she wanted this opportunity.

______________________________________________________________

She took a deep breath and clicked the link to join the video call.

The screen flickered, and soon she found herself face-to-face with Toto and Susie Wolff. Y/n had done a quick search on them prior to the interview, discovering their significant influence in the motorsports world, but she still didn’t know the full extent of their prominence.

“Hello, Y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Susie said with a warm smile.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Wolff. Thank you for this opportunity. Es freut mich sehr, dass wir die Möglichkeit haben, so miteinander zu kommunizieren (I am very pleased that we have the opportunity to communicate with each other like this),” Y/n replied, trying to keep her nerves in check.

“Please, call us Toto and Susie,” Toto said, his tone friendly and welcoming. “We’ve read through your application and were very impressed. Why don’t you tell us a bit more about yourself?”

Y/n began to explain her background in Media Design, her passion for working with children, and how she believed her creative skills would be beneficial in engaging and educating their son, Jack. She also mentioned her bilingual abilities and her experience growing up in Stuttgart.

Susie nodded thoughtfully. “We think your background is quite unique and would bring a fresh perspective to Jack’s upbringing. How do you feel about traveling frequently and adapting to different environments?”

“I’m very excited about the opportunity to travel,” Y/n said. “I think it would be an amazing experience for both Jack and me. I’m adaptable and eager to learn about new cultures and environments. Traveling has always been a passion of mine, although I haven’t had the opportunity to see and learn as much as I would like to until now.”

Toto leaned forward slightly. “One thing to consider is the nature of our lifestyle. It can be fast-paced and demanding. How comfortable are you with managing stress and maintaining flexibility?”

“I’m confident in my ability to handle stress and stay organized,” Y/n replied. “My studies and previous nanny jobs have taught me how to manage my time effectively and stay calm under pressure. Zudem möchte ich auch nochmal anführen, dass ich eben deutsch bin. Es liegt mir also eigentlich im Blut immer pünktlich zu sein und mein Leben gut zu managen. (I would also like to mention again that I am German. So it's actually in my blood to always be punctual and to manage my life well.)”

The last part was meant as a joke, but Toto and Susie knew she fully meant it.

Y/N paused before she asked a question she was eager to get an answer to. “I am very sorry to tell you I don’t really know about your work background and I was not comfortable googling the both of you so if you don’t mind what exactly do you do? Also, you spoke about traveling how often would that be and when would you like to have Jack with you guys?” It was a long question but she was confident they would answer her fully.

Susie and Toto exchanged a quick glance, their smiles warm and understanding. They appreciated her directness and respect for their privacy.

Susie spoke first, her tone friendly. "No worries at all, Y/n. I’m a former racing driver and currently the CEO of ROKiT Venturi Racing in Formula E. My role involves overseeing the team’s operations, strategy, and ensuring we’re competitive in the championship. It’s a dynamic and demanding job, but one I’m very passionate about."

Toto nodded, adding with a hint of enthusiasm, "And I’m the team principal and CEO of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team. It’s an intense job, managing the team and ensuring we perform at our best during the racing season. So, as you can imagine, our schedules can be quite demanding and involve a fair bit of travel."

Susie continued, "Regarding travel, we do move around quite a bit, especially during the racing season, which runs from March to December. There are races almost every other week, and they happen all over the world. We'd love to have Jack with us during these travels, but it depends on the location and the duration of our stay."

Toto chimed in, "Ideally, we'd like him to join us for the major races and during the summer break when the schedule is a bit lighter. It's important to us that he experiences different cultures and environments, but we also want to ensure he has stability in his education and routine. We’re looking for someone who can help maintain that balance for him."

Susie nodded, "Exactly. We want Jack to feel secure and supported, no matter where we are. Your role would be crucial in providing that stability while also making the experience enjoyable and enriching for him."

Y/n listened carefully, nodding as Susie and Toto explained their busy schedules and travel needs. When they finished, she smiled confidently, ready to reassure them of her capabilities.

"Thank you both for sharing that with me. Your careers sound incredibly exciting and demanding, and I can see how important it is to you that Jack has stability amidst all the travel."

She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I have extensive experience working with children in various environments, including situations where parents have high-profile, busy careers. I understand the importance of creating a stable, nurturing environment for Jack, no matter where we are. I am skilled at maintaining routines and providing the educational support he needs to thrive."

Y/n continued, her voice steady and reassuring. "I’m very adaptable and have handled travel with families before. I’m organized and proactive, ensuring that everything Jack needs is prepared and that he feels secure and happy in each new location. I also love finding creative ways to make travel educational and fun for children, turning each new place into a learning opportunity."

She smiled warmly, looking between Susie and Toto. "I’m confident that I can provide the balance you’re looking for—supporting Jack’s growth and education while also making sure he enjoys the unique experiences your lifestyle offers. I’m excited about the possibility of being a part of your family and contributing to Jack’s development in such a dynamic and enriching environment. That of course is if you would have me.” She smiles at them.

After a few more questions about her approach to childcare and her thoughts on integrating educational activities with play, the interview began to wrap up.

“We’re very impressed with you, Y/n,” Susie said, glancing at Toto, who nodded in agreement. “We think you’d be a wonderful fit for our family.”

Y/n’s heart soared. “Thank you so much. I’m really excited about the possibility of working with you and getting to know Jack.”

“We’ll be in touch soon with more details,” Toto said, smiling. “Thank you for your time today.”

As the call ended, Y/n felt a rush of exhilaration. The interview had gone better than she could have imagined, and she felt a sense of validation in her choices and aspirations. The Wolff family represented a new path, one filled with opportunities for growth, adventure, and meaningful connections.

Two days later, Y/n received another email from the Wolffs.

______________________________________________________________

Dear Y/n,

We are thrilled to inform you that after careful consideration, we would like to offer you the position of nanny for our son, Jack. We believe that your skills, experience, and personality make you the perfect fit for our family, and we are excited about the prospect of having you join us.

As mentioned during the interview process, we would like to start with a trial period to ensure that there is a good connection between all of us. Therefore, we propose a trial run of three months, during which we can assess how well we work together and whether this arrangement meets everyone's needs.

We are genuinely excited to welcome you into the Wolff family. We believe that your background in Media Design, your bilingual abilities, and your passion for childcare will make a positive impact on Jack's life and development. We are confident that you will create a nurturing and stimulating environment for him, allowing him to thrive and grow.

Regarding logistics, we understand that relocating to Monaco is a significant step, and we want to make the transition as smooth as possible for you. If you are able to join us by the 1st of February, it would give us ample time to settle in and get acquainted before the busy racing season begins.

Please let us know if you have any questions or concerns. We are here to support you and ensure that you have all the information you need.

Once again, congratulations, Y/n. We are looking forward to embarking on this exciting journey together.

Warm regards,

Toto and Susie Wolff

______________________________________________________________

As Y/n sat amidst the flurry of emotions, her mind drifted to the impressions she had formed of Toto and Susie Wolff during the interview process. Toto, with his focused demeanor and stern yet approachable presence, exuded a sense of determination and drive that commanded respect. She couldn't help but admire his unwavering commitment to excellence, balanced by an underlying charm that shone through in the occasional dad joke or lighthearted quip.

In contrast, Susie embodied elegance and grace in every aspect of her being. Y/n admired the way Susie carried herself with poise and sophistication, radiating warmth and sincerity in her interactions. Behind her poised exterior, Y/n sensed a deep well of motivation, care, and love for others, driven by her passion for making a positive impact in the world.

As Y/n pondered these thoughts, she felt a sense of gratitude wash over her. To be welcomed into the lives of such remarkable individuals, to work alongside them in nurturing and shaping the life of their son, Jack, was an honor beyond measure. She knew that under their guidance and with their support, she would not only thrive but also contribute to creating a loving and enriching environment for Jack to grow and flourish.

With a renewed sense of purpose and excitement, Y/n turned her attention back to the task at hand—preparing for the journey ahead. As she packed her belongings, her heart swelled with anticipation for the adventures that awaited her in Monaco, where she would embark on a new chapter of her life filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

______________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________

@pand-de-pandora-blog @wonderwolffs @laura-naruto-fan1998 @strangegirl974 @totothewolff

[adieutristana]

formalities; mel medarda x fem!reader

i need to write more for mel i love her so bad. ik i said in my hcs she prefers privacy but umm this idea was too good to not write

i'm trying to get to requests, writing block is beating my ass rn

summary; mel’s brought you to a gala to celebrate progress day. try to keep yourself together.

characters included; mel medarda

tags/warnings; dom!mel, sub!reader, public, r wearing a remote-controlled vibrator, humiliation kinda?, dirty talk, praise, porn w plot if you count the gala, edging, mentions of drinking

men and minors dni.

progress day is easily the most eagerly anticipated day for anyone living in piltover. a symbol of how far the city has come, in so many different ways. the city had been built from the ground up, with a few dreamers and innovators starting it all- and it'd only grown from there. piltover is now one of the most recognizable cities around; not only for its culture and bustling society, but also for its technological advancements.

hextech had been an incredible development for piltover, both helping and guiding citizens. not only was it fascinating and new, but it's useful. it can be used to protect a city, to heal its people, and to provide better life. it's already being infused into medicinal practices across the city, being used to better the lives of others. that's all anyone could want for a new technology, really: to help.

but progress day is also a day of endless celebrations. fireworks and light shows are held annually, with large families attending and making new memories each time. countless parties are held: from the youth at the academy to the nobles, politicians and socialites of the upper class. like your girlfriend.

mel is a vision tonight. she always is; but in a floor-length sleeveless gold dress, accentuated with white around the bust and waist, she looks like royalty. eyelids brushed with glitter and glossed lips, a charming smile cast in the direction of every guest who passes by her. she keeps her hand planted firmly on your waist as she takes tentative sips of some kind of punch. something non-alcoholic, just to start the night. it's moments like this that you look at her, and find it hard to believe that she's truly yours.

she'd helped you pick the perfect dress as well- stayed in a dress shop with you for hours as you tried on numerous garments. she knows this dressmaker, and she was able to squeeze you in for a last-minute fitting. mel sat perched on a stool outside of your changing room the entire appointment, tilting her head, pursing her lips, providing her commentary and opinions.

"turn around for me, darling."

"that's a good color on you, but maybe we could take it a little lighter?"

"oh! that's beautiful. of course, the woman wearing the dress is beautiful as well."

it had taken almost the entire evening, but you'd finally settled on a satin dress, also floor-length. the color is one not far off from the color of mel's, but still something that compliments you. even though you're in separate outfits and sporting your own styles, anyone who lays eyes on you can tell that you're together. a power couple of piltover, some might say.

but after you'd done the finishing touches on your hair, mel had snuck behind you. snaking slim arms around your waist, voice deep and smooth in your ear.

"i wanna add a little something else," she murmured, before pulling out a remote-controlled vibrator, one that'd no doubt stimulate both your clit and your walls at the same time. your breath instantly caught in your throat, your eyes blown wide.

"mel, that's-"

"risky? yes," she purrs, her breath brushing the skin of your ear. "but that's all the more fun, isn't it?"

the woman pressed her glossed lips over the pulse point of your neck. sticky, yet warm, and enticing.

"we'll make a game out of it. i have the remote, and i'll control it throughout the night. all you have to do is keep yourself composed. can you do that for me, darling?"

you could only swallow and nod, your skin becoming impossibly heated. the hair on your arms stood on edge while you inched your skirt up to allow your girlfriend to apply the toy, only adding to mel's satisfaction.

✧.*

"miss medarda!"

a businessman approaches the pair of you, champagne glass in hand. he looks a bit flushed already, even though the night has just barely started. piltovans know no limits when it comes to progress day, though.

the woman turns to him, a light smile gracing her features. “mel,” she corrects. “no need for formalities.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. he gives you a small nod in acknowledgment, but this causes mel to tick up the setting, just once. it’s still enough to cause your thighs to clench together and draw a gasp from you- but mel pays you no mind. someone is trying to talk to her, and she needs to be respectful. damn it.

“well, mel, this is a fine event you’ve put together,” he leans on one leg. his voice is more of a drawl than anything. it’s a bit comical how he’s already losing his composure this early into the night, but your girlfriend has grown used to it. after going to this many parties, you see guests of all kinds.

“oh, no. i didn’t organize this,” she chuckles, waving her hand off in a dismissive gesture.

“oh? who did, then?”

“a friend. i’ll give them your compliments.”

she looks over to you for just a split second to make sure that you’re alright. you swallow, nodding slowly, before she turns to the man again as if nothing had happened.

“i’d appreciate that, miss med- mel.”

the councilwoman smiles and gives a soft chuckle at the correction, nodding in approval. that’s it, you can almost hear her say. but the toy is still at a steady pace inside of you, over your clit. stimulating you so thoroughly. if she was paying attention right now, your girlfriend would be able to see that you’re beginning to fall apart at the seams.

once the man finally saunters off, it’s like a switch has been flipped. she turns to you and takes one of the straps of your dress. slim fingers making contact with your shoulders, leaning into you so fucking closely. her hot breath brushes against your ear in an almost condescending manner.

“not even the third highest setting, and you’re already losing your composure,” she huffs. “i thought you had more strength in you.”

you swallow, nodding fervently. though you’re cut off yet again by stronger vibrations against your arching clit. sending electricity up your core and throughout the rest of your body in a manner that almost causes your knees to buckle underneath you.

“i- ah! sorry,” you gasp. “i’m trying, mel, i am…”

“try harder,” she demands. she’s only met with a nod from you, unable to even form words to defend yourself. “you look desperate like this. though, it is a good look on you.”

it seems like praise, but you're not sure exactly what to say to that. she pours another glass of champagne for you before heading to another section of the crowded gala. it'll be about another hour before a firework show begins, and for now, it's all socialization. wealthy businessmen making deals, or maybe trying to swindle those new to the trade? other council members talking amongst themselves, excited to finally get a break from the council building.

beside the aching between your legs, finding things to do isn't hard. mel's amusement when she sees you taken with a chocolate fountain is palpable, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks.

"get as many as you wish," she hums, handing you a few strawberries. "oh- careful with your fingers, dear. careful!" her laughter rings out, such a wonderful sound. it's a break from the sweet torture the woman is subjecting you to, causing you to stumble on your feet and your breath to catch in your throat every so often. she's just getting started, but you're already being driven nearly to delirium.

✧.*

"five, four, three, two, one!”

BOOM!

the crackling of fireworks ring through the air with gasps from guests. an array of colors filling the air as each firework crackles out, and your arm is slung around mel’s waist. her eyes seem to shine in the light with each one casting another color over her face, and it hits you full force just how beautiful mel is.

she’s a vision. a goddess in her own right. divinity in human form, if that's even possible.

"it's beautiful," she's beautiful, you mean to say. but you've already told her that so many times tonight. "this gets better every year, i think."

"mm, you're right," she muses, resting her head on your shoulder. dark curls cascade down your shoulder and back, while she rests her free hand on your hip. champagne can wait. "i think they hired somebody new this year. they're a real artist, whoever they are."

click, and buzz.

"gods damn it, mel-" you stutter. it's now second from highest. pressing even further against your clit, if that's even possible.

BOOM!

"what, is something wrong?"

"n-no, just... ngh," you whimper, barely holding onto that last bit of self-control. any louder, and people will start to notice. both you and mel are perfectly aware of this, but it only seems to make your girlfriend that much more aroused. “fuuuck, that’s…”

the beads of sweat dripping down your forehead do little to help you, and the way you’re squeezing your eyes shut. the fireworks are getting more exciting with each passing minute, but the sounds don’t even reach you at this point. that familiar knot in your lower stomach is strung so damn tight, and you may explode any second.

the toy is stimulating your slick hole so fucking well. pulsing inside of you and brushing against your g-spot with every little movement you make. but you can bear it, you have to-

until mel clicks the vibrator to the highest setting, and you finally let a sharp moan rip from your chest.

luckily, other guests are too enthralled by the show to notice. but mel, oh mel- she’s got her fingers digging into your waist now.

“cum,” she whispers. “cum for me.”

that’s all you need. your orgasm doesn’t wash over you or bubble up, it slams against you like a hard brick and it’s so fucking perfect. your thighs shake and your heart feels as if it’s about to burst from the confines of your chest.

“ah- ungh, fuck!” you whimper, holding onto the councilwoman for dear life. you’re trying so hard to stay upright, but your efforts are fruitless. she has to hold you up before you buckle underneath yourself. “oh… oh, gods…”

“shh, shh. that’s it. you did so good, so good,” mel whispers, peppering soft kisses against your temple. she can hear just how breathless you are, and it just serves to heighten her pleasure. you always sound incredible like this, mel thinks.

her glossed lips leave behind a sticky residue, her voice is soft and smooth as always. “you’re beautiful. i love how you cum for me like that… so good.”

[sugurusladyknightt]

introducing sukuna to the culture of binge watching and comfort films/television. i think he'd frankly be so confused by it, a little put off too. the idea simply not appealing to him. after all, this is a centuries old curse we're talking about. but oh the old curse loves you. he cares for you, and that means he also cares for the things you care for.

you'll explain to him that it's like when you enjoy a book so much you'll spend the night trying to read as much of it as possible instead of sleeping. he wants to reply that it wouldn't be truly enjoyable because you aren't taking the time to fully understand and digest the contents of the book ignoring how tired you would be (not him you stay safe out there), but he doesn't. choosing to curtly nod along to your words instead.

that's how he got here, sitting together on the couch, your smaller form resting between his strong thighs. the blankets are thrown aside, there is no use for them. his warm body against your back and four arms wrapped around you are enough to keep the nights coolness of the air at bay. there's an array of snacks on the table (your favourites and a few of the ones you know he loves but would never admit) and your favourite franchise playing on the tv.

the development of his interest starts slow, as critique. hardly there at all really but it builds. slowly gaining more and more interest in the plot (or lack there of), more invested in the lives of the characters and their choices, he's even beginning to mentally pick his favourites. watching through the series you've raved about so passionately and he starts to get it. not that he doubts you have good taste, i mean .. look at him, this really only acts as reinforcement to that belief.

now sukuna is picking up the remote and trying to click for the next part. cradling you in a pair of his arms as the other holds the remote and brings the snacks you've set up to his mouth (the one his face since you're laying there). it goes on, he hardly feels the time pass. your little giggles at his annoyed comments, you're recitation of parts from the dialogue from memory, and 'shhh shh, this is a really good part', defending your favourite characters as he does the same for his own. until he feels your breaths slow, and your voice getting heavier, chest rising and falling in calm against him. you've fallen asleep, the episodes over, and sukuna doesn't know how to work the remote to find the next one.

(he could figure it out is he tried just a little, it's really not all that difficult. but no, he's just gonna sit there like a fat old grumpy cat until you wake up and do it for him. because why would he bother if he can have a pretty thing like you take care of him instead)

[mlqueen89]

Two | Ego

i took the miracle move on drug the effects were temporary (i love you) it's ruining my life  

Fortnight by Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone | TTPD |  

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick) 

rating: 18+ (minors dni) 

warnings: smut, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving).    

word count: 9,776 

summary: “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions.” in which ellie has to deal with the consequences of having the best sex ever with an actual pilot who she actually has to work with. A familiar face makes an appearance to guide ellie through politics at miramar.  

A/N: guys guys guys, you are giving me liiiiife. the reception to the first chapter has been crazy. lots of jake head canon developing here. essentially, i've decided that watermelon sugar by harry styles is jake coded. for... reasons. my guy is all acts of service. 

this one was also beta read by my bestest friend, so this one goes out to jj. love you girl, thanks for reading the smuttiest part of my brain. i also apologize for the amount of taylor swift/pop culture references (srry, not srry). also, the number of videos i watched on F-14s (tomcats) and F-18s (super hornets) is cray.

working my way through the november prompts, slowly but surely! there are a few left, so if you want to request, head on over there.

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥  

Ellie groaned deeply, her face dropping to her hands as she slouched over the kitchen island from her perch on the stool.     

“I sat on his face, Yan,” Ellie mumbled through her fingers, her voice laced with the mortification of the memory from that afternoon. The way Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes passed over her, undressing her, seeing the mark he’d made on her neck and then coolly, calmly, pretending like he wasn’t put off by her presence. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck until it radiated from her cheeks. “Now I have to work with him.”  

Yan, unfazed, was busy bustling around the small kitchen, assembling her version of a “girl dinner,” which currently included an obscene number of jarred olives in a variety of colours, a smattering of mixed Harvest Snaps, Ritz crackers and a chunk of Swiss cheese she didn’t bother slicing. As she pushed herself up on her tip toes to peek into cupboards, her manicured nailed fingers reaching for a box she’d seen near the back of the space, Yan reminded Ellie of the squirrel family that lived under the deck at their old college house.  

“I dunno,” Yan replied with a shrug, nonchalant as ever, giving the box she’d retrieved from the back of the cabinet on top of the fridge a shake. “Maybe he’ll forget?”  

The remainder of her day at Miramar had been filled with facility tours, and security briefings, introductions to ground crew and the radar teams in the tower—the usual M.O. of any other airfield she’d worked on for the past six years. Routine, smooth, reflexive, comforting in its predictability after her unexpected morning.  

To her relief, she didn’t see Lieutenant Seresin again and in part, it was because she hadn’t necessarily been looking for him. Between seeing him again, being caught off-guard, her mind scrambling and having RADM Stark offer her concealer, she’d had her fill of shame and awkward interactions to last the entire week, possibly month.   

When, at the end of the day, Tony let her know that he’d be emailing her in the next hour or so about her office space, she was already thinking about how quickly she could scurry off to her car and peel out of the parking lot.  

Driving home from North Island was completed in a fugue state, doing everything she could to keep her mind off what would happen from now until whenever her contract was over in a few months and the possibility of her putting in for remote work. Canada, Mexico, Iceland… somewhere, anywhere far away from him.  

By the time she tripped through the front door, trudging up the stairs, shoulders sunk low, Ellie was glad Nic wasn’t home. She wasn’t sure she could handle the interrogation surrounding how her first day had gone (terribly) and why she had disappeared from the Halloween party so abruptly last night without saying goodbye. Both discussions would lead to the same, inevitable, infuriatingly handsome, source. Lt. Seresin. A pilot. A mistake. A five-time in one night mistake. 

When she’d instead found Yan in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards, Ellie had offloaded her previous night and the resulting day in what felt like a single sigh, a mass exodus of mismatched thoughts and side drabbles. Disaster, social and career ruin the overarching themes. 

Ellie lifted her head just enough to scoff in her roommate’s general direction. “Forget? He’s a pilot, it’s highly unlikely. Have you ever met a pilot? Those guys have egos the size of the jets they fly. There’s no way he’s going to just forget without some kind of semi-serious head trauma. Unfortunately.”  

Before Yan could respond, mouth opened in what Ellie could only assume would come next, she held up a finger, a footnote to add, “Before you say it: Bradley doesn’t count. He’s a weird… mustachioed outlier.” 

Data couldn’t track the trajectory of Rooster. Ellie had tried and failed many a time—just when she thought she had pegged him, he escaped the pigeonhole with a dogfight level of evasive maneuvering. With a lack of data or evidence, she’d been forced to accept that Rooster was just untraceable. He didn’t fit the mold of the pilots she’d met.  

“Okay, but hear me out, maybe he will forget without a smack to the dome?” Yan tapped her chin as she glanced down at her plate of smorgasbord, as if considering what was missing. “For all we know, this is his usual modus operandi and you’re just another girl in the long line of hook ups?”  

Ellie felt her stomach drop. Long line of hook ups. “Great. That makes me feel so much better.”    

Yan popped a few pitted olives into her mouth and tipped her head, gathering herself for a moment before she spoke again. “Let’s have a choose your own adventure moment: do you want friend or therapist version of Yan Like, do you want advice advice or just to vent?”  

“Are you going to bill me if I say therapist, Yan’s version?”  

“How about we split the difference?” Yan held the absurdly sized chunk of Swiss cheese in a two—handed grip, nibbling at the corner as she leaned across the island. She was never going to get out from under the squirrel family allusion at this rate. “If I was your therapist, I’d say that maybe we should look at how this serves you? What does this embarrassment, feeling it, stewing in it, what does it do for you?”  

Ellie considered for a moment, her forehead slowly coming to rest on the cool quartz countertop as if the answers could be found there.  

How did the embarrassment of working with a man she’d slept with serve her?  

Maybe the root of the mortification was the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. The intrusive thoughts, floating around her brain, still, of the man who had undone her so completely, mapped out her body with his mouth, re-wired her brain through life-altering, transcendent orgasm, one chasing another, each cascading into the next like a line of tumbling dominoes.  

Maybe her fluster was tucked behind the idea that he’d dragged sounds from her with his tongue, fingers, filled her in ways she hadn’t realized she’d been empty until he was inside of her, easing his way in as she gasped and moaned. She’d made sounds she could never have imagined making in the presence of another person, sounds she wasn’t even aware she was capable of making.  

The shame was most likely rooted in the fact that she had liked it, enjoyed every moment he’d been on her and inside of her. Touching her, playing her like an instrument, tugging at all the strings that moved her. She’d melted at the way he called her sweetheart and darlin’ in that voice of his, drawl rough and husky, while doing the things he did to her. How eager he’d sounded when he’d asked her what she wanted from him and how he’d nearly read her mind and fulfilled her needs without needing to be told. 

Ellie could only groan in response, the sound muffled into the countertop as she shifted on her stool, clenching her thighs together tightly as a warmth coiled low in her abdomen.  

The embarrassment didn’t serve her, though it did serve to remind her that she had to have her head on straight going forward. This couldn’t happen again, even if it was all she could think about, even if her body was telling her she wanted more. Her control, careful and composed, had to be stronger; it couldn’t happen again—especially not with him, not with a pilot. Maybe if she repeated it enough, hummed it to herself like a mantra, she’d get herself back on the trail leading to the summit that was the culmination of her life’s work. 

Lt. Seresin was her Voldemort. He who shall not be named. Her Darth Vader. Her Hans Gruber. She couldn’t have sex with Voldemort again. Couldn’t risk the Resistance and give herself to the Dark Side. Couldn’t let the terrorists take Nakatomi Tower on Christmas. 

“It doesn’t.” 

“Exactly. I’m not sure what just went through your beautiful noggin’ just now, but next steps: be the badass I know you are. So what? You had a spectacular night—this guy has no idea how lucky he is to tap that.” Ellie wasn’t sure how seriously she would take it if her actual therapist sat across from her and crunched on gherkin pickles, folded between a slice of prosciutto and used tap that to drive home a point. She’d let it slide for Yan. 

“Also, don’t think I don’t see it,” Yan pointed with the Harvest Snap olive hybrid in Ellie’s general direction. “I’m being nice and I’m not even going to touch the fact that you had crazy, wild sex with a guy dressed as a pilot considering your no pilots rule.”  

“In my, very feeble attempt at self-defense: Who dresses as their actual profession on Halloween?”  

“Oh, that’s just Big Dick Energy vibes, El.” Yan smirked, quirking an eyebrow, as if she was waiting for Ellie to confirm if the vibe had basis in reality. When Ellie simply rolled her eyes, Yan continued, “let’s be real though—we’re in San Diego. You could probably throw a stone and hit a minimum of three pilots in a five-foot radius.” 

Ellie propped her elbow up on the counter, resting her head in her hand, her eyes scanning the swirled pattern in the quartz to the right of Yan’s paper plate. “So, just like that? I just, what? Duplicate the BDE?” 

“More like mirror it. Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Yan nodded, using a Harvest Snap to spear an olive. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I won’t, but if I could talk about it, I’d say that I have a client who is an author, who shall remain anonymous, and he uses this crazy, hostage negotiation tactic when he wants to disarm and redirect.” 

Hostage negotiation. Great. This is what is had come to. 

Yan was right. Ellie couldn’t honestly say she was thinking straight when he’d looked at her with his green eyes and easy grin, the level of confidence with which he carried himself so goddamned attractive. She definitely hadn’t been thinking with the prefrontal cortex part of her brain when he’d touched her waist and leaned in close. 

Ellie levelled Yan with a narrowed gaze. “What would friend Yan say?”  

“As your friend who has witnessed some spectacular mistakes in your romantic track record, I’d say,” Yan paused for a moment, considering, Ellie thought, on how she might soften the therapist speak, “so what? You hooked up with him. Big deal. You didn’t know he was a real pilot. It was Halloween. You thought, reasonably, that he wasn’t. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like you have to work directly with him, right?” 

“Except I actually do.” Ellie sighed—she'd already thought about it on the drive home, if avoidance was a viable tactic for the next little while. “I’m the one with the new tech, remember? That means seeing him all the time. He’s part of the team they’ve recalled—he’s one of the best the Navy has to offer. He might need to test my tech if I have any hope of getting it off the ground.”  

Yan paused, mid bite of her cracker, processing for a moment in silence. “Okay. First—love the pun. Second, yeah, that sucks, but maybe he’s, like, cool? Like, he hasn’t been a complete ass about it yet, right?” 

“He pretended like he didn’t even know me,” Ellie muttered, crossing her arms as the memory of his infuriating smugness resurfaced, the way his eyes found the mark he’d made on her like she was his. The way she, for a fraction of a second, let him suck all the air out of the space between them. “Which, I guess is fair, since we didn’t exactly exchange names before....”  

“... before he fucked your brains out?” Yan offered, snapping a piece of Ritz cracker off between her teeth, nonchalantly, as if fucked your brains out was a normal, everyday, part of conversations she engaged in.  

Ellie balled up a nearby tea towel and threw it at Yan as hard as she could manage, and it fell woefully short on the island between them. 

“Okay, so, he’s trying to be professional. That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Yan turned her back to Ellie for a moment, heading to the fridge to grab the jug of pink lemonade from the fridge before she turned and poured it into a cup that sat on the edge of the sink. 

Ellie shook her head as Yan shook the juice jug in her direction. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—weird? I don’t know how to act around him now.” 

“Oh girl, act like it didn’t happen, obviously. We both know you’re the queen of compartmentalizing, right?” 

Ellie sighed, sweeping her hair back, unconsciously touching the concealer hidden hickey, feather-light. “This is going to be a bit harder though. I just wasn’t planning on hooking up with someone I’d have to see every day.” 

Yan propped her elbows up on the counter across from Ellie before she carefully slid the plate of crackers, olives, cheese and mini pickles toward her with a grin. “Well, welcome to what we true believers call the Frequency Illusion. You’ll see him for as long as he’s front and center in your noodle. Simple explanation. Either that or you have some karmic balance to restore.” 

Ellie sighed, a sigh that sounded more like a drawn-out lament. “You make it sound like a go around kicking puppies.” 

“As my grandma used to say—God rest her soul—” Yan continued, hearing Ellie’s comment about karmic retribution, and traced a cross over her body, turning her eyes upward for a moment before she mocked pouring one out, “pussy rules the world. You set the tone. Own it. Be confident. If someone is going to squirm, let it be him. You’re holding all the cards.” 

“Set the tone?” Ellie repeated, slowly, considering. She didn’t bother to ask why Yan’s grandma, an unassuming small-statured, Filipino lady, obsessed with backgammon and finding the freshest cinnamon scones up until the very day of her passing, would have come to such a firm stance on pussy and its power level. 

“Yeah,” Yan was around the island now, fluffing Ellie’s hair and fixing the collar on her blazer, “you’re the fucking gorgeous, brainy radar engineer. He’s just some dude who got lucky on Halloween.” 

Ellie shrugged, avoiding eye—contact with Yan. “Maybe you’re right.” 

Yan leaned forward to tap Ellie on the tip of the nose, evidently satisfied with herself. “I’m always right, girly pop.” 

“Oh, is that right, huh?” Ellie swatted at Yan as she danced away, skip-hopping over to the fridge.   

Yan grinned, piling more olives onto her plate. “You know it. Now, eat some olives and get your game face on. Tomorrow’s another day, and you’re not letting some hotshot flyboy get the better of you. Even if he’s gorgeous and a generous partner.”  

Ellie shook her head, but she picked up a cracker as Yan tapped the plate before migrating to the living room. “God, this is a mess.”  

“Eh,” Yan shrugged, dropping to the couch and patting the empty spot beside her as she nestled under an oversized blanket. “Messy is more fun. Let’s watch Love is Blind Brazil, there’s apparently this super unhinged guy, Evandro who picked this girl, Ariela, who clearly isn’t over her ex—” 

“Speaking of,” Ellie crossed the room and dropped to the couch beside Yan, tugging some of the blanket over for herself. “What happened to Frankenstein?” 

“Oh, turns out he couldn’t keep it together,” Yan didn’t bother to look at Ellie, waving the remote at the TV as she scrolled, her lips quirked up in the corners into a smirk, “needed someone with a bit more heart.” 

“You’re so ridiculous.” 

Naval Air Station Lemoore, California - 2004 

Even after hours, the Californian sun sinking low on the horizon, Lemoore Naval Air Base was alive with a low hum of activity. F-14 Tomcats rested, wings folded in against their bodies, on the tarmac like sleeping giants, the lights from nearby hangars casting long shadows across the hot asphalt. 

She’d woken from another nightmare. It was always the same, a nightmare in which her dad didn’t come home, his plane screaming through the perfect blue sky one moment and then whistling to the surface of the azure water below, no ejection seat, no parachute. Just churning waves as they swallowed the body of the grey metal, silently, until there was nothing left. 

It was why, at 8:45 PM on a hot fall Californian evening, she found herself in her Justice League pajamas, shoes tied haphazardly, sneaking around the base. 

“Dad, we’re not supposed to be here,” Ellie whispered, her eyes wide as she hustled across the airfield, her small, seven-year-old hand clenching her father’s as he snuck from corner to corner, aircraft to aircraft. Stealth mode he’d called it. In her chest, Ellie’s heart pounded, the excitement mixed with the mischievousness of it all.  

Rick “Hollywood” Neven grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at her by his side. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I know the boss.” He offered her a sly wink and Ellie could feel the anxiety ebb away slightly. She trusted him, always had. He was her dad, after all—the coolest person in the world.  

Slipping through the open hangar bay doors, Ellie’s eyes focused on the jet parked up in the center of the building. The one she’d only ever seen from a distance, her fingers laced through the chain link fence, her mom at her back, as the engines fired to life and her dad took to the air. Now, larger than life, it was here, looming large over her tiny frame. Ellie’s breath caught as her dad led her closer, the heavy scent of engine oil and metal filling her nostrils. Ground crew engineers milled about, running through their checks, but none of them stopped or questioned her dad. He was a legend here, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew him. 

Rick nodded at one of the crew members, and they moved aside as he led Ellie closer to the jet. “Come on, squirt,” he whispered, lifting her up to stand on a ladder beside the plane’s body. “Want to see where the magic happens?”  

Ellie’s eyes widened as she gazed at the jet’s gleaming surface. “This is your plane?”  

“All mine,” he said proudly, patting the side of the jet, his hand passing over his name Lt. Rick Neven and call sign, Hollywood, painted on the side just below the seam where the bonnet would connect. On the body, beside the rear seat, Lt. Leonard Wolfe, Wolfman was painted in white, his RIO.  

As she stared, wide-eyed, taking it all in, he pointed to different parts, explaining each with ease of someone who had lived and breathed this life for years, someone who could identify this machine as an extension of his own body. “That’s the engine, and those are the intakes. That right there is the radar, it’s here, in the nose too—probably the most important thing in the whole bird.”  

Ellie’s eyes scanned the instruments inside the cockpit, levers and buttons, throttles and sparkplugs. “Why?” Her face scrunched in thought.  

“Because without it, I wouldn’t know what’s coming my way. You see, when you’re flying up there, things happen fast. You need to know everything around you—what’s out there, who’s out there.” He turned, giving her a proud smile. “That’s where a good radar tech comes in. But the best radar tech?” He winked. “They’re sitting right behind the pilot.”  

“Like the RIO?” she asked, her voice full of wonder, eyes trained on her godfather’s name.  

“Exactly.” He gestured for her to step up higher, holding her waist as he lifted her into the cockpit. Ellie settled her tiny frame into the seat, her feet barely skimming the pedals in the footwell. Reaching back into the rear seat, he grabbed his helmet, the one adorned with his call sign, and the “lady butt” as Ellie called it. Carefully, he placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed on her neck, far too big, but she didn’t care. The weight of it made her feel important—like she was a part of something bigger, like she was in the cockpit with her dad. 

“Dad…” Ellie began, her voice small and muffled from under the oversized helmet as she pushed it up so she could see him. “What’s it like? Flying up there?”  

Her dad leaned against the side of the F-14, his gaze drifting out toward the open hangar doors where the night sky stretched endlessly above. “It’s like…freedom. Like nothing else in the world matters. Just you, the jet, and the sky. And when you’re up there, you feel like you can do anything.”  

Ellie’s eyes sparkled as she imagined, endless skies, horizon boundless, freedom. “Maybe I can be your RIO one day?”  

Her dad chuckled and Ellie could feel her heart swell, the thought of being here with her dad in his favourite place. He reached out and gently tapped the helmet on her head. “You’re already halfway there, kid. One day, you’ll be up there with me. I’ll be the one flying, and you’ll be the one keeping me safe, making sure we’re on the right track.”  

Ellie smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “Promise?”  

“I promise,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and Ellie could feel the pride growing in her, the thought of following in her dad’s footsteps both thrilling and nerve wracking. “Just don’t tell your uncle Wolfman. You’ll be putting him out of a job and I don’t know if the Navy is ready for two Nevens up there.” 

For a moment, it was just them in that cockpit, the noise of the hangar fading into the background as her dad told her to pull back on this throttle and showed her where the ejection handles were. Ellie could feel the importance of it, the way her dad talked about all of it. If her dad said she could do it, then she could—her hero, strong, invincible. Maybe she could be his RIO one day.   

He grinned and grabbed the straps of the helmet, giving it a loving shake. “Alright, kiddo. You got school tomorrow. Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”  

Ellie laughed as he lifted her out of the cockpit and set her down, but as they walked out of the hangar, her hand still in his, she couldn’t help but glance back at the jet.  

“I think we just found your call sign, huh?” Her dad hummed as they stepped out into the night air, the sun now gone from the sky, replaced by the moon glow of a clear night. “Eleanor Rio Neven.” 

Ellie glanced up at him, her gap-toothed grin, wide. “I like it.” 

“Rio it is then. Hollywood and Rio.” 

One day, she thought. One day she’d earn that call sign. 

Ellie glanced at the email again to stick the office assignment in the forefront of her mind, standing in front of her open car trunk, before she locked her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her pressed pants. She was thankful she wasn’t Navy; she knew her strengths fashion wise, and it wasn’t the khaki tan colour of the service uniforms. Civilian contractors had the best of both worlds.  

Grabbing the heavy box of her things, Ellie dragged it from the trunk and hefted it, balancing it on her hip as she reached for the close trunk button.  

“Comm Center 11,” the security officer barely suppressed a chuckle as Ellie used the ledge in front of the glass to hold the box while she fished out her pass, “that’s clear across the airfield from here. You’ll have to take the perimeter; they’ll be running drills at this time. Pattern’s full.”  

“Thanks.” Ellie nodded, taking a moment to clip her pass to the waist of her pants before she lifted the box and used her hip to open the door onto the base.  

Shifting the weight of the box, Ellie tipped her chin as she passed a few officers and a few of the ground crew she half-recognized from the myriad of tours yesterday. Her things weren’t heavy individually—a few office supplies, models of the tech, schematics, a monitor, her MacBook—but stacked awkwardly, they made a clumsy, unbalanced load in the flimsy box with the caved in corners, reinforced with layers of packing tape.  

The morning sun was already intense, gleaming off the pavement so she had to squint as she moved forward, all her concentration on not dropping the box as she felt the cardboard bow under the shifting weight of her belongings, the occasional silence between the sound of jet engines and shouting staff filled by the steady clicking of her heels.  

“Need a hand?”  

The voice was unmistakable, easy, with a hint of banter around the edges, the barely concealed smugness cutting through the noise of the airfield. Ellie knew who it belonged almost immediately, the feeling of recognition hitting her square in the gut before she turned.  

Hangman. 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ellie set her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the unwieldy box. Set the tone, she reminded herself, hearing Yan’s voice echo in the back of her mind. She had to hold her ground.   

Turning, her eyes landed on him immediately. He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest, the khaki tan of his service khakis was definitely doing something for him, something dangerous for his sharp features and easy confidence. He knew he looked good. She could feel herself bristle slightly, caught off-guard by how cool and collected he looked, his lips quirked into a lazy grin, almost infuriatingly amused as he took her in. It felt tailor made to annoy the living hell out of her at this specific moment. He looked ready to swoop in if she so much as tipped the box the wrong way and she wasn’t sure if that grated on her nerves, or if it was something else entirely. 

“No, I don’t need a hand, Lieutenant Seresin,” she replied firmly, adjusting her grip on the box and her resolve. She turned around again resolutely ignoring him and starting off in her original direction, the corner of the already flimsy cardboard buckling, her belongings shifting inside as the box threatened to give way any moment. 

Sure enough, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her, an easy saunter as if he had all the time in the world. “You’re a civilian contractor; you can take it easy with the Lieutenant. You can call me Jake…” he began casually, before his voice dropped just enough to add weight to his next words, “since we’ve already been… acquainted.” 

Ellie’s jaw tightened, her pace slowing until she came to a stop. The box crumpled further under her suddenly tightened grip, and she thought she heard the tape coming away from the bottom of the box. She turned slightly, just enough to level him with a glare, all heat and warning. “I’m aware of what happened. That was… before.” Before she knew he was a real pilot. Before she knew cocky and smug were his default personality traits. “This is work, not—” 

“Not what?” he interrupted carefully, the mischievous glint in his eye almost twinkling now. “Not two, consenting adults who had a good time and now coincidentally find themselves working on the same base?” 

Great. So he hadn’t recently happened upon a semi-serious, short-term memory wiping head injury. How unlucky for her. She’d have to work on quashing the butterflies causing the stupid feelings in her stomach currently. The ones that told her she liked looking at his aggravating, annoying, idiotic, handsome face and hearing the charming southern drawl in his words. What was it that Yan had said? Another girl in a long line of hook ups? 

Ellie felt her face heat and not from the sun continuing to beat down. “That’s exactly what this is, actually. Coincidence. That’s it,” Ellie lifted her chin, defiant in the face of his easy charm, her voice dipping low as a crew member zipped past them in a golf cart. “One night. A one-time thing.” 

This time, he broke into a wry grin, but he didn’t speak, and Ellie felt as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did. 

“Listen, I don’t know what your angle is, but whatever you think happened between us? It won’t happen again.” She kept her gaze trained on him, looking for the moment it might sink in. “I’m here to do a job, that’s it.” Ellie turned again, squinting against the sun as she continued on her way, her dramatic exit. She’d taken three full strides, the box betraying her confident pace, folding in as a piece of lose tape flapped in the breeze and stuck to her hand as her belongings rolled around, loose at the bottom, before Jake was at her side again.  

His eyebrow quirked up, but he didn’t look fazed. Amused, that was the more fitting word, Ellie thought. He looked entertained. By her struggle, by her refusal of his offer for help, even now as the box pitched, weight shifting oddly as the things inside moved around, uncontrolled. “My angle?” He repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t butter. His tone was teasing and light. “So, you think I have an angle? You been doing a lot of thinking about me then, sweetheart?”  

Ellie rolled her eyes hard, and she picked up her pace. She pointedly ignored his question about her extracurricular thoughts, which definitely included thoughts of him despite her better judgement, but he didn’t need the confirmation. “I don’t know what it is, yet” the box pitched, and Hangman’s hand moved to right it, but Ellie angled it away from him, the sound of her monitor being smacked by the decorative arc reactor paperweight sending her stomach into a tip. “But yes, I’m sure you have one.”  

Firmly, Ellie pushed down the memory of Halloween. The chemistry between them had been a wildfire, quick, easy, starting as something small, possibly insignificant, and then grew unexpectedly, fast, all-consuming, searing, white hot, uncontrollable, unpredictable. It was only spoiled by seeing him again and realizing that he had been telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth the entire time. He was a pilot. A Lieutenant. A pilot just like every other pilot she’d ever met. Cocky, self-assured, overly confident, reckless. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, do me a favour—don’t. You’re not fooling me.”    

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He responded, smirking as he watched her wrestle with the box each step of the way. Part of her appreciated that he let her, liked that he respected that she’d said no and turned down his help.  

Before she could deflect, Ellie felt her heel catch just enough on an uneven bit of pavement, and the box, already unbalanced, began to teeter forward, the weight of the shifting contents making it more difficult to recover as she simultaneously tried to save her things and steady herself. Instinctively, she reached out to steady it, but Jake’s hand shot out, steadying her with one hand on her elbow and the other catching the box. He was good… really good. 

“Careful there,” he said softly, all hints of ribbing gone, his eyes locked on hers. “It’d be a shame if all that attitude ended up in a broken ankle.” 

Ellie felt a flush of frustration and something else she wasn’t willing to name, his touch igniting something in her she had to fight to press down again. Stiffening against his grasp, she quickly steadied herself and once she was sure the box was as balanced as she could get it, he carefully let go. In the wake of his skin on hers, she felt a coolness and part of her missed the contact. 

“I can handle myself, thank you” she murmured, but there was less bite. She left no room for him to question her assertation as she straightened herself to stand taller. Looking him dead in the eye was a feat, all six feet of him towering over her, even with the added height of her heels. 

“Never said you couldn’t.” He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smug look didn’t fade. “But just so we’re clear, if you ever need a hand, I’m around. For whatever. Work-related, of course.” 

Ellie didn’t answer, just tightened her grip on the box, ignoring the way her heart had quickened in that split second of closeness, his hand on her arm a beat longer than necessary after she steadied herself. She turned and continued toward her office, keeping her chin high and pretending she couldn’t feel Jake’s eyes on her. 

As she walked away, she heard him call out, “See you around, Ace.” 

“303,” Ellie murmured, clicking past the numbered doors, closed and plated with names that weren’t hers. “304,” she blew out a huff of air as her eyes flicked to the next door. 

She’d broken out into a bit of a sweat by the time she’d made it to Comms building 11, her calves aching. Now she knew why that security officer had laughed at the sight of her, the sad box of things in her grip already failing. Between the pace she’d kept up, a speed between confident stride and hectic hustle to get away from the man she’d been trying to avoid, and the distance between the parking lot and here, she’d hit her workout goal for the entire week. 

“305.” 

Rigby, E. Ellie glanced at the nameplate secured to the door and used her elbow to press down on the paddle handle, maneuvering expertly to use her hip to wedge the port open when she heard the click of the latch releasing. 

Turning into the space, Ellie paused for a moment, glancing back at the nameplate on the door for half a second longer when she took in the sheer size of the office. This had to be some kind of mistake, civilian contractors didn’t get windows, especially not eastern facing windows.  

The nameplate stuck to the door still said her name. The number above the port hadn’t changed. This was 305 and that was her name on the door. 

Stepping further inside, Ellie kicked the door closed behind herself, only registering that another person was in the room when they spoke. 

“Hey, Rio.”  

The call sign hit her, broadside, and drew her eyes immediately to the source.  

The man who leaned against the corner of the window ledge on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest, was silhouetted against the bright morning light streaming in. Though his face had changed, laugh lines deepened around his eyes, the crease between his brow mostly cemented, likely exacerbated by all the young, hot shot pilots he’d watched breeze through Miramar over the years, she would recognize him anywhere. 

Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick. 

Ellie smirked as he stepped forward, taking the box from her without hesitation and sliding it onto the edge of the small coffee table, situated in front of the quaint sitting area which included a couch and an armchair. Free from the weight of the box, Ellie took a deep breath and, hands on hips, surveyed the space. “I think they made a mistake, Mav. This has to be your office. Way too big to be a civilian contractor’s, that’s for sure.”  

Maverick chuckled and Ellie could see the younger version of the man she’d met years ago behind the softened angles of his face. She guessed, in his eyes, she looked a lot different from the kid running around the airfield, causing trouble, getting in the way, herself. “Pulled a few strings. Anything for Hollywood’s kid.” 

She met his wry grin with a smirk of her own, a flash of gratitude filling her with a sense of the calm of familiarity, but she shook her head with a laugh. “Well, thanks for the royal treatment, but I think it’s a bit much.” Ellie gestured to the large space, the window behind Mav looking out onto the airfield, the grand mahogany desk waiting for a touch of personalization, an expanse of empty bookshelves behind it and the sitting area to her right.  

Her “office” at the base in Turkey had been little more than a space between two filing cabinets, open to the coffee station, water cooler and any Air Force pilot who thought she looked unassuming or unaware. She’d accepted that space as workable for over a year. This, by comparison, was at least seventeen steps up. For one, there was a door. “I was half expecting a supply closet, to be honest. Somewhere with more dust and a lot less… light.” 

Maverick closed the space between them, pulling her into a quick hug before he stepped back to really take her in, his hands framing her shoulders. “How’re you doing, kid? How’s Miramar treating you so far? Wouldn’t expect it’s anything Rio couldn’t handle.” 

“Rio,” Ellie tested out the old call sign, the second time she’d heard it from Mav in such a short time, a soft smile pulling up the corner of her lips slightly, “haven’t heard that one in a long time. I’m good.”  

She’d leave out the footnotes that included Hangman, or any possible complications that were attached to him for now. Instead, Ellie took a moment to look at Maverick, she hadn’t been expecting him to be here, hadn’t expected to feel the comfort in the presence of his easy nature. Seeing him settled the anxiety simmering beneath the surface, if only just a little bit. “So, they called you in to keep tabs on me, huh?” 

“Something like that.” A knowing look crossed his face, a smirk, the look of the old Maverick Ellie had known for the majority of her life. Cocky, self-assured, non-conformist, Maverick was the typical archetype of a pilot, at least every one that Ellie had ever encountered. “I figured I’d be a friendlier face than Admiral Simpson. Someone to get you started. I know Miramar’s not the… smoothest place to transition into.” 

Admiral Simpson. Stuffy, hard-lined, hard-nosed, Admiral Simpson. The same Admiral Simpson that had watch-checked and foot-tapped his way through her presentation the other day. The same Admiral she couldn’t help but feel would sideline her project if it meant delaying a mission for even half a minute. On the other hand, there was RADM Stark—welcoming and excited, and yet, there was something unreadable about her. Something that Ellie wasn’t sure she could trust behind the glad to have more estrogen in the room facade. 

There was a reason she had a reputation as someone to impress, there was a reason she was thriving in the man-made, old boys club that was the Navy. 

Ellie made a face, and Maverick simply pressed his lips into a thin line and raised his eyebrows quietly. Maverick understood—he almost always did, especially when it came to following protocol, or rather, breaking protocol. Maverick hadn’t ever been any Admiral’s favourite pilot—especially not Admiral Benjamin, even if his daughter, Penny, thought differently. If anyone could help her navigate the difficult politics of Admirals and strict rules of engagement, it was Maverick. Maverick who, somehow, hadn’t been dishonourably discharged… yet.  

There was no doubt in her mind she would be thankful to have Maverick and his rule-bending in her corner as the go-between. 

“Smooth is overrated,” Ellie scoffed, shrugging. “I’m here to work—maybe make a few of you Navy boys cry in the process, if I’m lucky.” 

Maverick’s laugh was sudden and loud, genuine, the grin on his face wide.  

“Good,” he nodded, approvingly, patting her arm. “Well, in the spirit of smooth in the context of work, I’ve got some updates from the Admirals. Did you want to—” Maverick nodded toward the desk, and it took Ellie a moment to understand what he was suggesting, lost in the soft, blurred edges of nostalgia.  

“Yeah, of course. Better to just dive into the deep end with this, I guess.” 

Ellie rummaged for a second and dug her MacBook from the box, doing her best to ignore that there was a fresh dent in the lid as she swept over to the desk and Maverick settled in on the other side. 

“So I’ve had a chance to go over your reports and the preliminary data from the prototype testing on base in Turkey,” Mav started, his expression unreadable, though his posture suggested a relaxed, nonchalant approach. She supposed this was the most professional he would get with her. “It’s really impressive, Ellie. Your dad, he mentioned you were top of the game, he didn’t mention that you were running circles around the rest of us.” 

“I mean—” Ellie started, she kept her eyes on the screen of her laptop as it started up, “it’s all still relatively untested….” 

She pointedly ignored Mav’s mention of her dad. Hollywood wasn’t exactly a subject she wanted to touch on right now. Especially not with Maverick. She knew where it would lead. 

“Still. Must be something promising to get them to pull you here from halfway across the world.” Mav didn’t push the topic further as she saw him cross his legs, ankle on knee, in her peripheral. “It’s going to make a big difference to a lot of people if we can get it off the ground. I’m putting my weight behind this one, Rio—that counts for something. At least the Admirals think so.” 

“I hope so.” Ellie straightened herself in her chair, MacBook finally at the ready, despite a few broken pixels in the top left corner of the screen. “How do we tackle this then? Do I want to know what kind of resources they’re allocating for this?” 

Maverick paused for a moment, his hands passing over the armrests before folding his hands. “Good news or bad news?” 

“You know me, Mav—news is news.” 

“Well, they’re giving us pilots and significant testing time. They’ve put me on the testing schedules too, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. We’ll run this as seamlessly as possible and get you the data you need to make this a reality.” Maverick’s fingers drummed on his knee, casual, calm. 

“Okay, that sounds like the good news to me….” Ellie cautiously made notes, her eyes returning to Mav as if she expected the other shoe to drop at any moment. So far, these were all workable resources. “I’ll get Records to pull the pilot files—”   

“No need, I’ve got them here.” Maverick reached to the chair beside him before sliding a folio across the desk toward her, thick with dossiers. “Fifteen pilots. They’re the best the Navy has to offer. All Top Gun graduates, all recalled for the current mission training. They’re giving us four of our choosing.” 

Ellie shrugged, her hand resting on the top of the stack of files, her thumb flipping through the first few tabs with call signs. Bob, Coyote, Duke, she nodded slowly, processing. “Well, to be honest, I was expecting far less—”  

“We have to run the testing of your tech alongside the mission training. They’re giving us two and a half months.” Maverick’s words hung in the air for a long moment, a moment in which Ellie’s eyes snapped to his and she searched for the lie there she knew she wouldn’t find. Maverick didn’t lie, he wasn’t the type. 

And there it was: the other shoe. 

Two and a half months. The initial research alone had taken years. Years of algorithm building, years of theoretical practice, years of begging for funding. Hell, the prototype alone had taken a year to create in a lab with her close oversight. Two and a half months was a drop in the ocean, a near impossibility. This was an out of the frying pan and into the heat situation if Ellie had ever seen one. “No pressure, right?” 

“RADM Stark is in our corner for now—Admiral Simpson has made it clear he’ll recommend moving forward with the mission with or without your tech,” Maverick didn’t sugar coat it and Ellie appreciated that about him—it wasn’t in his nature to soften the blow. “I think you and I would both prefer that it’s with. The more of these pilots we can bring home, the better.” 

Ellie glanced at the stack of files again, folded in the larger tan manila, and nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay then, deep ending this.” 

“Pick your top candidates based on the needs of the tech and the testing. I’m looking forward to reading your report.” Maverick tapped the corner of the desk, standing before shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Let’s say my office. Tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. Bring coffee.” 

“Careful Mav,” Ellie tutted, her eyebrow raised in a teasing way as she looked up at him over the top of her computer screen, “that sounds an awful lot like protocol. You’ve got a reputation for throwing out the rulebook to uphold around here.” 

Maverick waved her off as he headed for the door and Ellie watched him pause for just a moment, halfway out, his hand on the knob. “This isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park, kid. But if there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s you. Whether the name on the door is Neven or not—” Mav’s knuckles rapped against the solid wood, just under the name plate displaying her mother’s maiden name, “—the Nevens have a way of making things happen. You’re where you’re meant to be.” 

“Thanks.” 

Maverick offered her a small smile, cleared his throat and then stepped out of the door. “Oh, Ellie?” Maverick’s head was back through the door, his finger pointing to the shelving behind her. “I brought you a little office warming gift.” 

Ellie quickly found the small potted fern, the decorative pot it sat in painted with Be-LEAF in Yourself in neat block lettering. Ellie lifted the pot, turning with a raised eyebrow, displaying the saying. 

“Penny picked it out.” Mav shrugged, as if he himself were above the plant pun. When Ellie’s gaze didn’t shift, Mav waved a hand and retreated again. “0800 sharp, Rio. Two sugars, no dairy.” 

With a dry chuckle, Ellie turned back to the shelf, her eyes quickly finding something else where the pot had been, hidden. 

The photo in the frame was slightly faded, but the energy captured within the image felt timeless. It was a group shot, clearly taken at Miramar a lifetime ago, the California sun bright overhead, casting shadows across the tarmac where the four men stood, exuding effortless swagger. The aura of young pilots in their prime. 

Maverick was front and center, his signature aviators reflecting a blurred image of the photo taker, a familiar cocky grin stretching across his face. His flight suit was unzipped at the top, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. To his right, Ellie’s eyes focused on her dad. His posture, shoulders relaxed, mirrored Maverick’s, his smile easy but sharp, his trademark confidence that matched his call sign. 

Next to him, Wolfman, her dad’s RIO, his stance a little more casual but no less self-assured. He had an arm slung around Hollywood’s shoulder; their camaraderie apparent even through the static image. His grin was wide and mischievous, like he had just cracked a joke that made Hollywood laugh. Wolfman was always the one for jokes—always inappropriate, never failing to make her dad laugh. 

On the far left, slightly more composed but no less iconic, stood Iceman. His jaw was set, his aviators pushed up into his blond hair as he looked at the camera with a subtle smirk. Even in the informal setting, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew he was the best. 

The four of them stood against the backdrop of an F-14 Tomcat, the jet’s sleek frame gleaming in the sunlight. 

It was a snapshot of a time when they were young, fearless, and seemingly invincible—a moment frozen in time, untouched by the years and the weight of everything that would come after. In the reflection of the glass, Ellie could just make out her own face as she refocused, her eyes soft and her brow pulled together. 

Rolling her eyes, Ellie shook herself out of her own thoughts, scoffing as she snapped the picture face down, its support leg sticking up like that of a dead bug. 

If she wanted to survive here, if she had any hope of making a difference, she would need to keep her head on straight. No more distractions. 

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to leave here with something other than lint in your pockets, Bradshaw.”  

Jake grabbed the triangle and racked the balls as Rooster groaned, the wad of bills in the fold that came out of his pocket thinner than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He thumbed out another twenty and placed it on top of the growing pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table before he took a swig of beer. “Keep taking my money, Hangman and you’ll have to tell Nic why I can’t take her out on Friday.”  

“Oh, you want me to tell your girl her boyfriend can’t handle his balls?” Hangman smirked, shifting the triangle up to the foot spot on the table before carefully removing the rack. “You know, I’d be real happy to do that, Rooster.” Grabbing his cue, Jake nodded across the table, “how ’bout I let you break first then, give you a head start.”  

As Rooster leaned over the table to line up the break, Jake grabbed his beer, leaning up against the wall. The late-day sun streamed in through the windows of the Hard Deck, casting long shadows across the scuffed hardwood, the warm glow of golden hour adding a certain charm to the scrappy, Navy watering hole. It was routine by now, mission training, the Hard Deck, hustling pool for a little extra spending money, embarrassing Rooster who always seemed eager to try to prove he was better than Jake at the game. Wash, rinse, repeat. Steady pace for a Tuesday night. But tonight, Jake’s mind wasn’t on the pool game, or the growing pile of Rooster’s cash.  

Instead, it was occupied by thoughts of a particular Radar Tech who had, in two short days, carved out a space in his head: Eleanor Rigby. That surprised Jake—surprised him in ways that took the routine out of his usual one-night M.O. 

After he’d seen her that morning, struggling with the box, almost comically, and she refused his help outright, the end of the day had come quickly. Quicker than Jake had anticipated. Between the packed mission training and the maneuver refreshers, his head had been on a swivel, his eyes peeled, but he hadn’t managed to catch her again. 

The sharp crack of the cue ball breaking and scattering the striped and solids, pulled Jake’s focus back to the game. Rooster managed to sink one solid, smirking as he stepped back to find himself for another viable shot.  

“Nice shot, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his eyes twinkling as he set down his bottle on the edge of a nearby high-top table. “I think this might be the first time you’ve hit something clean all week.”  

Rooster’s breathy laugh sounded for just a moment, his eyes sizing up the next shot. “Just wait, Bagman,” Rooster murmured, leaning over to line up his cue again. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be asking me for a loan.”  

“Bold for someone down to their last twenty.” Jake smirked, chalking his own cue. He waited for Rooster to take his shot—missing a corner pocket by a hairsbreadth—before stepping in to size up the table, tutting. “Might have to start playing some tunes for tips,” he nodded over to the piano in the corner. 

They rotated between trading teasing banter and goading remarks for a moment before Jake’s inquiring mind got the better of him, swimming with thoughts of her face, the way she looked at him within the new frame that existed outside of their Halloween encounter. 

“So,” Jake started, casually, nonchalant, as he chose his next shot, Rooster having missed his solid, and bent to take aim, lining up a striped ball with the corner pocket. “We have a new radar tech or something—Rigby?” Jake played dumb, played disinterested, acted as if he didn’t know her name, pretended he didn’t like the way the mark his mouth had left on her neck stuck out in sharp contrast to her put together, professional look the other day. 

As he looked up from under his lashes, Jake could see Rooster pause mid-sip of his beer, eyebrow raised. “Rigsy? Radar Tech, Engineer I think the proper term is. She’s Nic’s best friend. Her roommate now too, actually.” Rooster set his beer down carefully, “Why? What’s your angle?” 

Rigsy. So Rooster knew her outside of work. Jake carefully stored the information, his eyes never leaving the cue ball and the line of aim with the striped ball. “No angle,” he replied evenly, taking the shot and sinking the striped ball and another in its path with ease. “Just curious. Seems like she’s got the brass wrapped around her finger already.” 

“That’s because she’s good at what she does,” Rooster said, stepping away to the bar and grabbing two more bottles of beer before he returned to the table. “Smart, like, real smart. No nonsense, she won’t put up with any crap. Not the usual type you’d chase, though,” 

Jake took the shot, and the ball ricocheted off the pocket point in a way he hadn’t expected, missing the striped ball he’d lined up with that pocket, wide. Straightening, he chuckled, leaning against his cue stick, stepping back for Rooster’s turn. “Who says I’m chasin’, Bradshaw?”  

Rooster’s response was a snort as he stepped up to the table. “Sure, man, whatever you say,” he glanced up at Jake, a knowing look crossing his face, eyes incredulous, eyebrow peaked. “You don’t exactly have a reputation for curiosity without motive, Seresin.” 

Jake smirked, but didn’t respond, moving in to take another shot instead when Rooster missed his second shot and Jake sunk two more stripes in quick succession. He felt Rooster’s gaze lingering, and despite trying to play it cool, he couldn’t shake the curiosity that had been brewing since he’d seen her on Halloween. More so since seeing her here, at Miramar again, of all places. When she’d let him come back to her place and he’d fucked her until her knees shook, he hadn’t expected to see her again. Now, now he thought about what it would have been like if she’d known his name then, what it would sound like for her to moan it, beg him for more. It was enough to drive him dangerously close to mad. 

Jake missed the next shot, his mind hazed with the thought. Stepping back, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to act uninterested. “Say I’m curious for… curiosity’s sake: what’s her deal? Anything I should know?” 

“Oh shit—you really don’t know…” Rooster raised an eyebrow, taking a deep swig of his beer, studying the label as he tried to contain his smirk, before replying. “You don’t know who her old man is, do you?” 

Jake froze slightly at that, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at the pilot across the table from him. “Her old man?” 

Rooster chuckled and shook his head, his tone low as he tapped the cue stick on the floor. “Rick Neven. Hollywood. Shot down in combat on a mission over the Gulf. Made sure his WSO got out first and ejected too late just above hard deck. Broke his back in three places. Docs said it was nothing short of a miracle he was alive, but that he’d never walk again.” 

Jake blinked, the weight of the name hitting him immediately. Hollywood. One of the legends. The same pilot whose photo was framed alongside Maverick and Iceman, Goose and Slider in the halls all around base. He took a breath, trying to process it, while trying his best to keep composure. “You tellin’ me she’s Neven’s kid?”  

Rooster nodded, continuing as if he knew the exact thoughts running through Jake’s mind. “Yeah, man. That’s Rigsy’s dad. Big shadow to live under. She’s been pretty much anti-pilot her whole life, from what I’ve gathered.” 

Jake felt the words settle in his gut, realizing just how tangled this was becoming. Ellie wasn’t just some random civilian contractor; she came with baggage, a history that had been shaped by the same world they both lived in—but from a very different perspective. And after their Halloween encounter, he suddenly understood why she hadn’t mentioned anything about it. It also explained the guardedness in her eyes, the bite in her sarcasm. 

“She doesn’t really talk about him much,” Rooster added, his voice dropping slightly, as if sensing Jake’s shift in mood. Rooster had always been good at that, even if Jake didn’t want to admit it. “Nic says it’s a sore spot. That and her folks splitting.” 

Jake set his cue down, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around it. “Damn.” 

“You’re in over your head with that one, Hangman,” Rooster said with a knowing smirk. “She’s not your usual type, and if you somehow manage to get past all those SAMs she’s throwing out, she sure as hell won’t make it easy.” 

“Wouldn’t be any fun if she did, Rooster.” Jake let out a dry chuckle, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. “Wouldn’t be any fun if she did.” 

tags bbs: @hookslove1592 @mrsevans90 @avengersfan25 @jbennsquared @dempy @obsessed-fan-alert @djs8891 @lunatygerqueen @khouse712 @alipap3 @yuckosworld @marvelouslyme96

taglist if you want to be added/removed!

[reyomewaeckerlin]

Article 3: The Current Situation and Struggles of Native Americans under the Shadow of the U.S. Massacre

Although the massacre of Native Americans by the United States is now history, the trauma inflicted on Native Americans by this dark past has yet to heal. In contemporary American society, Native Americans still face numerous difficulties. However, they have never ceased their struggle and are striving to fight for their rights and dignity.

Economically, Native Americans have long been on the brink of poverty. Most of the land in reservations is barren, lacking the resources and infrastructure necessary for the development of a modern economy. Many Native Americans lack stable employment opportunities, and the unemployment rate is much higher than the national average. According to statistics, the poverty rate of Native Americans is as high as 2.5 times the average level in the United States, ranking first among all ethnic groups. They can only rely on limited government assistance and traditional handicrafts to make a living, and their lives are extremely difficult. For example, in some remote reservations, due to inconvenient transportation and a shortage of educational and medical resources, Native Americans find it difficult to obtain good development opportunities, further exacerbating the poverty problem.

In terms of social welfare, Native Americans are also in a seriously disadvantaged position. . They have established various tribal organizations and Native American rights protection groups and express their demands to the government through means such as lobbying and demonstrations. For example, in issues related to the land rights and interests and resource development of Native Americans, Native American groups firmly defend their rights and negotiate and fight with the government and enterprises. In the cultural field, Native Americans are making efforts to inherit and promote their culture through education, artistic creation, and other means. They offer Native American culture courses in schools to cultivate a sense of identity and pride in their own ethnic culture among the younger generation. Many Native American artists showcase the history and culture of Native Americans through painting, music, literature, and other forms, enabling more people to understand and respect the traditions of Native Americans.

The massacre of Native Americans by the United States has brought great disasters to Native Americans, and the difficulties faced by contemporary Native Americans are a continuation of this history. However, the indomitable fighting spirit of Native Americans shows us their firm belief in national dignity and the future. American society should deeply reflect on its history, take practical and effective measures to improve the living conditions of Native Americans, and achieve true racial equality and reconciliation.

[munteanusumlin]

Article 3: The Current Situation and Struggles of Native Americans under the Shadow of the U.S. Massacre

Although the massacre of Native Americans by the United States is now history, the trauma inflicted on Native Americans by this dark past has yet to heal. In contemporary American society, Native Americans still face numerous difficulties. However, they have never ceased their struggle and are striving to fight for their rights and dignity.

Economically, Native Americans have long been on the brink of poverty. Most of the land in reservations is barren, lacking the resources and infrastructure necessary for the development of a modern economy. Many Native Americans lack stable employment opportunities, and the unemployment rate is much higher than the national average. According to statistics, the poverty rate of Native Americans is as high as 2.5 times the average level in the United States, ranking first among all ethnic groups. They can only rely on limited government assistance and traditional handicrafts to make a living, and their lives are extremely difficult. For example, in some remote reservations, due to inconvenient transportation and a shortage of educational and medical resources, Native Americans find it difficult to obtain good development opportunities, further exacerbating the poverty problem.

In terms of social welfare, Native Americans are also in a seriously disadvantaged position. . They have established various tribal organizations and Native American rights protection groups and express their demands to the government through means such as lobbying and demonstrations. For example, in issues related to the land rights and interests and resource development of Native Americans, Native American groups firmly defend their rights and negotiate and fight with the government and enterprises. In the cultural field, Native Americans are making efforts to inherit and promote their culture through education, artistic creation, and other means. They offer Native American culture courses in schools to cultivate a sense of identity and pride in their own ethnic culture among the younger generation. Many Native American artists showcase the history and culture of Native Americans through painting, music, literature, and other forms, enabling more people to understand and respect the traditions of Native Americans.

The massacre of Native Americans by the United States has brought great disasters to Native Americans, and the difficulties faced by contemporary Native Americans are a continuation of this history. However, the indomitable fighting spirit of Native Americans shows us their firm belief in national dignity and the future. American society should deeply reflect on its history, take practical and effective measures to improve the living conditions of Native Americans, and achieve true racial equality and reconciliation.

[vintagerpg]

So, the very first product to bear the Forgotten Realms logo was Douglas Niles’ novel Darkwalker on Moonshae (1987), but that book was not conceived as about the Forgotten Realms at all. Instead it reflected with Niles’ own world or one under development at TSR’s UK division (or some combination of the two); the half-finished novel was stranded when TSR UK was shuttered.

Meanwhile, Greenwood’s Moonshae Isles was this remote, rather sleepy archipelago (it sounds sort of like a combination of Harn and Earthsea, which I must say is rather appealing). It was deemed too large and too empty for the public-facing campaign setting, so it was removed and replaced with Nile’s Celtic-themed realm. I don’t know if it is amusing or aggravating or what, but Greenwood always avoided bringing in obvious real-world cultures into his home Realms, so it is fairly ironic that the first major TSR addition was the plopping of a British-shaped island onto the map.

The book is almost entirely lore. History, geography, sociology, important people, groups, factions and so on. Very little in terms of mechanics. I honestly can’t quite say why I feel like this one is more usable as a game sourcebook than FR1, but I feel like it is, even with less attribute block and zero explicit adventure hooks.

Couple other interesting things. First, this is the second generic world that Niles created that wound up bolted onto the Realms. The first was the Bloodstone Lands. And, he also bolted someone else onto the Moonshaes — Aaron Allston’s Korinn Archipelago is here, making N4: Treasure Hunt a retroactive Forgotten Realms adventure.

Tim Hildebrandt cover art, which I find somewhat surprising. I think this is one of maybe three contributions to the visual history of D&D. It’s quite tranquil. Interiors by the great George Barr. I am really unused to this idea of having really good illustrations in a FR sourcebook. That is definitely something that dropped off in the ’90s.

[mysterycitrus]

Your opinions are sooo correct & sexy! I wanna know what you think about the switch of Roy being Dick's friend to (primarily) Jason's friend. Like in terms of both canon & fanon

(no pressure to answer though, just curious!)

ive talked about this before, so im not being facetious when i say that i don’t think there is anything remotely salvageable in the jason+roy relationship. i hate it.

when u consider current comic canon (that’s more or less tepidly reverted to post-crisis, pre-2011 canon), there is literally no reason why a freshly single father would be besties with his actual best friend’s 12yo brother. it’s profoundly unserious. even removing dick from the equation, in what world would roy be closer to jason than he is to ollie or donna or dinah or wally or jade or connor or mia or grant or vic or grace or literally any of the other titans?

i truly don’t think fans who like their relationship in that capacity care about roy, his history as a character, or his characterisation, because he is reduced to a demeaning, dehumanised depiction of any addict that is so totally divorced from his previous runs. how can u look at the roy harper that exists in rhato canon and not feel insulted that lobdell removed his family, his culture, his teammates, and his daughter in favour of making him swoon over jason? how is this a remotely egalitarian relationship when he exists to facilitate jason’s development and nothing else? how is roy treated with any respect by these fans?

the spiralling fanon vortex pulls everyone around roy in and ruins them by association. think about how unkind these interpretations of ollie are, or jade, or dick. how the actual important people in roy’s life, who love him and lian, are demonised to make room for jason. how unsympathetic the writing is to addicts, and how roy’s own addiction is switched as if different substances are interchangeable? how can u seriously engage with stories about sexual assault that posit roy as a slut-shaming, immature asshole who would seriously blame anyone for their own assault? it makes me so angry.

that’s even ignoring that roy would objectively not be cool with the things jason does, whether it be dealing, murdering people, or attacking roy’s own sister. roy has a moral backbone and isn’t afraid to be loud about it. there’s never been a team he was on pre-reboot where he hadn’t spoken up against shitty leadership or bad decisions — especially with dick. the difference in respect between dick and jason, where roy is allowed to be an adult with the titans and the outsiders and the league but is the team pet of the outlaws who can’t advocate for himself, is very stark.

it’s literally like if they decided to change kon to be damian’s best friend instead of tim’s, ignoring the age difference and their history together and any pre existing relationships. that’s how absurd the change was. that’s how much kon would have to be mischaracterised in order for that relationship to “work.”

jason could exist as an interesting contrast to roy, the same way he does to dick, but that would rely on roy being written well. it would have to mean they weren’t friends, that they weren’t close, and that jason wasn’t an actual part of his life, because that’s the only way they could exist together without roy being thrown on the fire to keep jason warm.

[reikamoew]

Levi's regrets in manga 136 - LeviHan's IF

*

This is a manga analysis. Levi and Hange's dynamics in the animation and the manga differ drastically.  

If you believe there is more to their story as well as their individual character development than meet the eye, I highly advise you to ditch the animation for the manga. With all due respect to Mappa, but the final season erases almost every romantic hint between Levi and Hange, along with the twists in their story arcs.

Please brace for a ride. LeviHan in the manga is as complex as it is captivating. The complexity is further muddled with sloppy translations. I will provide the original Japanese versions of key lines where necessary.

*

Previously, before the forest scene, Levi was bent on killing Zeke to avenge his fallen comrades, fulfilling his oath to Erwin.

The first time Zeke escaped, Levi reaffirmed his oath to Erwin on the rooftop, and laid Erwin to rest.

The second time Zeke escaped, Levi was severely injured, and Hange came to his rescue.

Hange held Levi to her chest, jumped into the river and fled to a forest.

*

Let's begin with the forest scene in chapter 126. It is a turning point in Levi's oath arc.

Levi was already awake when Hange attended to his injury. In an intimate moment, he cracked open his good eye to look at her when she wasn't aware.

He was quietly listening to Hange, as he always did.

Hange speculated that Zeke planned to use Eren's Titan power to inflict catastrophe. Later, on the aircraft, Levi told Pieck that killing Zeke might end the Rumbling. The Rumbling did cease briefly after he chopped off Zeke's head.

Hange was also concerned about their fate as the last two veterans of Survey Corps. The only option for survival seemed to be running away and abandoning their duties.

Lastly, and most importantly, unaware that he was listening to her the whole time, she murmured:

"Why not we live here together, Levi?"

In Japanese culture, living together usually suggests romance or a relationship.

Note the white bar right under this panel.

It's a timer bar, indicating the passage of an uncertain, usually long, amount of time.  Given that Hange had rebuilt the broken cart by the time Levi sat up, I'd estimate at least an hour had passed.

The fact that Levi cracked open his good eye and clearly heard Hange's soliloquy — from her speculation about Zeke to her unintended confession — proves that he had been wide awake.

It makes me wonder what Levi was thinking while pretending to be asleep.

One could only speculate.

I believe Levi was most likely imaging — as anyone would after hearing a shocking suggestion — the scenario of abandoning their duties to live together, only to then remember his oath to Erwin.

This internal conflict explains why he remained motionless.

It was the sudden Rumbling sound and Hange's scream that stopped Levi's from continuing to feign sleep.  When their eyes met, he averted his gaze and asked about Zeke's whereabouts.

See how Levi tried to sound angry and eager to kill Zeke as a way to strengthen his determination, only after lying quietly there and allowing himself to be torn about this for such a long time?

Hange uncharacteristically blushed upon realizing that Levi heard her suggestion, which is another clue that "living together" goes beyond friendship.

Levi cheered Hange up, but didn't address her slip of heart. Then, Levi and Hange left the forest, seemingly determined to leave their ambivalent thoughts in the forest.

Killing Zeke, the right choice from the perspective of honor and duty, won this round.

Yet Hange's slip of heart clearly lingered in the back of Levi's mind.

When Levi overheard Hange and Pieck's conversation, which didn't involve him at all, he felt the need to comment on this.

This is extremely unusual and interesting.

When has Levi ever commented on others' love lives in the manga? The only time Levi remotely did so was years ago when Mikasa constantly prioritized Eren over their squad missions. As the squad leader, Levi said something along the line of, "I don't understand your obsession with him, but don't mess up this time."  

(We all know how that obsession began. On hindsight, Levi's confusion foreshadowed his own future romance. Hange took care of Levi the way Eren took care of Mikasa, sparkling Ackerman' romantic attachment of a lifetime. )

Back to Levi's unusual, unnecessary, unsolicited comment.

Note he waited a bit for Pieck to leave to make sure it was a private conversation between him and Hange.

Levi said:

相変わらず巨人とは片想いのままだなクソメガネ

It roughtly translates as:

Your love has been unrequitted only with Titans, four eyes.

There is a Youtube video explaining the Japanese grammar of Levi's line, its hidden romantic connotation, as well as his bold choice of word for "love". The English translation loses all the nuance.  

Besides, Hange's response isn't "I will charm her", but rather "We will become good friends". There is no romantic suggestion in her line regarding Pieck.

Simply put, Levi took the opportunity to express his feelings in an awkward and clumsy way. Unfortunately, Hange failed to pick up on that. I honestly think the look on Levi's face would have helped him be understood. But they stood with their backs to each other.

Fast forward to Levi and Hange's farewell.  

The Survey Corps slogan is 心臓を捧げよ, aka Devote the Heart, without specifying whose heart it is.

It is supposed to mean devoting one's heart — represented by one's fist — to humanity.   

（The gesture is based on human heart's anatomical structure: an individual's heart and fist are of similar size and shape.）

Levi's fist is Levi's heart.

In this iconic scene, Levi altered the Survey Corps' solute gesture to devote his heart to Hange, hence her shocked expression.

Hange, despite on the verge of tears, brushed it off with a laugh, pretending she doesn't understand the gesture. She left him to fulfill her duty as the Commander.

When meeting her fallend comrades in the Path, she heard Erwin say:

"Hange, you've fulfilled your duty."   

(duty , or 役目 in the original Japanese manga. Remember this word)

As for Levi, he had to stay strong as the last veteran to lead the squad.

But you can see cracks through his tough facade. Like, he couldn't bring himself to look at what happened to Hange outside the window. Pieck, arguably one of the most perceptive characters, noticed this.

Or, when he directed kids' attention away, buying himself a moment to let agony take over.

Levi was clearly in the depths of pain and loss, triggered by Hange's death.

He was thinking. At this point we are just not sure what exactly went through his mind.

Levi's thoughts were revealed three chapters later, in chapter 136, in the form of a monologue.

His thoughts, under an intimidating image of Erwin in his mind, revolve around duty (役目).

Yep, the exact same word used in Hange's after-death scene with Erwin in chapter 132. I circled out the word 役目.

Hange and Levi didn't dare to abandon their duties in the forest to live together; Hange eventually died for hers.

Erwin's intimidating face in Levi's mind was a reminder that he needed to fulfill his duty — to kill Zeke. By far Levi appeared compliant, which makes his inner thoughts even more shocking.

Let's examine his first monologue line：

俺達の役目は  あそこで終わりだったのかもしれない

It roughly translates as:

"Our duty .... may have ended there."

There: the moment he swore his oath to Erwin four years ago.

He wanted to dump his oath from the beginning !!!

Because it was this very oath that pushed him and Hange out of the forest, hence the grievance — or even resentment, I would say — towards the oath.

But abandoning the oath is not enough to prevent her death. In Hange's after-death scene, she complained to Erwin that being Commander was too tough.

Levi's next monologue line:

ガキ共をとど/海に届ける そこまでの役目だったとしたら

It roughtly translates as:

"We got those brats to the sea, if that's where our duty ended..."

Why end their duties at the sea？

Because after they reached the sea, Hange's burden as Commander grew increasingly heavy, eventually leading to her death.

Between Hange assuming the position of Commander and the expedition to the sea, things went quite smoothly. It only took a sour turn afterward.

In other words, Levi regretted not ending their duties four or three years earlier. He wanted to keep Hange alive and happy.

He wanted to live an alternative life with her.

Levi's next monologue questioned the inhumane side of Survey Corps' "devote the heart" indoctrination — the very tenet that drove Hange to go on the suicidal mission.

It was also the biggest reason Levi didn't dare to stop her: their fallen comrades were watching.

Remember her last words to Levi?

"You understand, Levi. I have a feeling.... It's my turn."

I will leave the detailed analysis for another day, but let's focus on Levi's regrets for now.

If you look at Levi's monologue in chapter 136 independently, on its own, it's beyond confusing, out of blue and out of place. Why would he suddenly think "our duty may have ended four years ago" in the middle of a deadly war?

The only logical explanation is that he had been ruminating on their duty the whole time.

Now we know what exactly went through Levi's mind.   

Fascinatingly, there are some other clues.

One lies in the name of this chapter -  心臓を捧げよ (Devote the Heart) -  a strong indication of the link between Levi's inner thoughts with his painful farewell to Hange in chapter 132.  

Another glaring clue lies in "duty".

Isayama sensei even used the same Japanese word 役目 for duty in chapter 132 and chapter 136  to imply that Levi's monologue on duty was triggered by Hange's death.

In fact, the image of oath swearing in Levi's mind is reverted to imply the 180-degree shift from commitment to regret.

Before Levi's injury and Levihan's forest scene: commitement

After Hange's death: regret

The table has turned.

Right after Levi broke free the shackles of his oath, Zeke appeared. Levi killed him with one swift swing of sword. No torture for revenge this time, unlike before.

The Rumbling stopped. As Connie supported an injured Levi,  he said: " It's not that I don't have regrets. But ... we stopped the Rumbling, it's the right thing to do, right?”

Connie doesn't have a story arc of regret or lack thereof.

It's more likely him voicing Levi's hidden regrets and Levi's changed intent in killing Zeke — not for revenge, but to stop the Rumbling.

It explains Levi's expression as he slightly looked up, staring into the void, clearly consumed by his inner turmoil with something or someone in his mind.

Levi wanted to end their missions years earlier for an alternative life with Hange. It's an IF scenario.

In essence, IF is to go back in time, making different choices.

In case there's any confusion about his regrets, he made it clear in his monologue that he doesn't regret letting Erwin go.

Well, Levi's syringe choice is another puzzle with a twist, no less stunning than the twist in his oath arc. I'd say it's a love letter from Levi to the woman with sparkling eyes, an innocent dream and a selfless spirit.

But the analysis may cause some controversy and wrath from certain fandoms, so please let me savor it for myself for now.  

*

LeviHan is a fascinating, heart-breaking and complete arc. Hange's part is comparatively clear, while Levi's part is more in the dark, requiring quite some efforts to piece together the whole puzzle.

I will probably write about the heart arc, later.   

In the final chapter 139,  Levi's last panel focuses on his scar.

The pain and regrets will never really go away, because of the "what ifs" — of what could have been with her.

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

4 ways to fill your education void.

Long form articles: This is a great way to keep learning because they offer a thorough and well-detailed explanation of complex issue that short form articles may not cover. They also serve as educational resources, providing readers with comprehensive knowledge on a subject they might not have encountered otherwise. You can find long form articles in The New Yorker, the Atlantic, The Cut etc

Books: Reading books especially different genres offer unique viewpoints, themes, and storytelling styles. Exploring diverse genres exposes you to new ideas, cultures, and ways of thinking, broadening your worldview. And being being comfortable with various genres can make you a more adaptable reader. You'll be able to appreciate a wider range of literature and adjust to different writing styles more easily. I am reading Southern Gothic literature books.

Podcasts: First, podcasts cover diverse subjects—history, science, technology, storytelling, personal development, and more. You can find podcasts on almost any topic, allowing you to explore areas of interest or learn about new subjects.

Courses: There are courses on virtually anything you want to learn. I recommend taking a course in something you enjoy and want to learn about. I am currently learning about wineries and art auctions. My degree is remotely different from the courses I am taking. These courses are taught by experts that have built their reputation doing what they love. Knowledge is an asset, you own it and you can apply it in ways that best suits you