#pilot scholarship

[udaanfederalaviation]

[aviatrix-ash]

Hope things work out in life/plane fixing career to where I can attend the ngpa hangout again in February. It'd be cool to run into other ace aviators there 👉👈

[angelsdean]

dean didn’t even know....didn’t even KNOW sam wanted to go to law school. when he tells him abt the interview dean’s like. “law school?” as if it’s the first he’s ever heard of it. they are strangers. also this is seriously recasting all my thoughts of them growing up and sam talking abt college and wanting to be a lawyer. i don’t think sam decided that until he was already at stanford. i don’t think he ever really had a plan beyond just getting out of the life. everything else he figured out once he was in college. 

[christenalux]

How to Apply for Airline Pilot Training Course

You can apply if you are…

18 years old,

Should be a high school graduate

Able to obtain an FAA medical certificate

Proficient in reading, writing, speaking, and understanding English

You will also get pilot aviation scholarship programs in a few aviation academies. You need to check with the Aviation Pilot training academy and apply for the scholarship. If you are eligible then you can get fee reduction.

[roosterforme]

Draft Day | Rooster x Reader

Summary: If Bradley knew anything about his son, he knew Everett wouldn't be happy with a normal job. Not after wishing and hoping to play major league baseball for most of his life. But when Draft Day turns out even better than expected, Bradley becomes a viral sensation.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

This is a Batting Practice one-shot but can be read alone! Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32

"I hate flying commercial," Bradley grunted as the enormous Boeing 747 touched down on the rainy runway in Pittsburgh. "These pilots couldn't land smoothly for a million dollars."

You kissed him where he was crammed into the economy window seat, his broad shoulders hunched slightly in discomfort. "I told you before we took off to go up to the cockpit and show them how it's done."

Bradley snorted. "And I told you that even though I wanted to, we'd get kicked off the flight. And tomorrow's too important to miss by being grounded in San Diego."

Bradley reached for your hand when it was time to deboard, and he ended up practically dragging you through the airport to the baggage claim area. "Can we slow down?" you asked with a laugh.

"No. Come on, Kitten. Ev's flight from Nashville landed forty minutes ago." 

"Okay, okay," you muttered as the two of you ran toward an escalator. The entire airport was swarming with media groups and college aged players hoping to get drafted by an MLB team tomorrow. And your son was one of those hopefuls.

You had barely taken a step off of the escalator when Bradley said, "I see him." And you kind of loved the way he released your hand to rush toward Everett. Your son looked tall and strong in his Vanderbilt tee shirt and backwards Phillies cap, and a second later, he was hugging your husband.

"Hey, Dad," he said with a laugh as Bradley kissed his forehead and folded him up in his arms. "Hi, Mom." And then you were pulled into the hug, too. 

"Did you get your bags yet?" Bradley asked. 

"The last one's coming around now," Everett replied, and he bent to pick up the long, thin luggage that must have been filled with his baseball gear. "I'm starving. Where are we eating dinner?"

---------------------------

After Everett had two enormous roast beef sandwiches filled with french fries and coleslaw, Bradley said, "I was about to ask if you were still getting enough calories every day, but I guess it's safe to assume that yes, you are."

"I'm just always hungry," Everett replied from across the booth, patting his flat belly. "I think the fact that my baseball scholarship covered the cost of food on campus saved you guys from bankruptcy." 

You pushed some of your uneaten fries to the side, and Everett started picking at them. "We would have had to sell the house," you said, shaking your head as your son polished off the rest of your meal, too. 

"So what's on the agenda tomorrow? What time do we have to be at the field?" Bradley asked. "Some of the kids at the airport looked really young. Are you nervous?"

Everett just shrugged. "Nah, what's the worst that can happen? I don't get drafted? I mean, I'm still not twenty two quite yet. I skipped the draft last year so I could finish college, and I have a degree now, so I could always get a normal job. Or join the navy. I already have a call sign."

But Bradley knew his son didn't want a normal job. When he'd gotten an invitation to the draft, he called Bradley immediately and told him how excited he was. "You can't wear that cap tomorrow," Bradley said with a grin. 

Everett spun it around so the battered Phillies P was facing the front. "You're right," he groaned. "I'll have to retire my favorite hat! But at least that would mean I'm pitching for another MLB team, you know?"

"Yeah," Bradley said with a nod as he pulled out his credit card. "It'll be worth it."

Once the three of them were settled into the two bedroom hotel suite, Everett headed right for his room. "You know he just wants to text his girlfriend all night," you said. 

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied with an eye roll. "Goodnight." And then he closed the door with his phone already in his hand. 

"She's totally his girlfriend," Bradley whispered, heading for the other bedroom with you right behind him. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it next to his suitcase before dropping onto the bed. 

"She totally is." You climbed into bed with him as he turned on the TV to ESPN. They were already showing live coverage of the MLB draft preparations. Reporters were interviewing coaches, and they were starting to remove some of the tarps and set up the stage at PNC Park as the rain had finally tapered off. You were just starting to get comfortable curled up on Bradley's chest when he jolted so hard you yelped. 

"Baby! They're talking about Ev."

You listened to the analyst on TV as he said, "And Bradshaw out of Vanderbilt, well he skipped the draft last year to finish his degree. That's almost unheard of! But his senior year stats were his best yet, so maybe he knew what he was doing. There are a lot of National League teams looking for a young ace pitcher who can also show up at bat, and he looks like he's just going to keep getting better. He should go late in the first round or early in the second."

Bradley's eyes were wide as he laughed and rolled you onto your back. "There are literally ESPN analysts talking about our son, Kitten." Then he kissed you softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were inside your shirt and you were giggling. 

"Hey, you seem excited, Coach." Bradley groaned as his hand drifted down to the fly of your jeans. "Okay," you agreed, "but we have to be quiet." And then your jeans were off and your husband showed you exactly how excited he was.

---------------------------

"Oh my God," Bradley mumbled over and over again as the three of you headed up toward the enormous stage that had been erected on the outfield at the ballpark. The weather had mostly cleared, and the city skyline looked gorgeous lit by the late morning sun peeking through the clouds. 

"Third row, Dad," Everett said, guiding them toward their assigned seats. Bradley and Everett were both wearing navy blue suits, but while Everett had chosen a neutral looking yellow and white tie, Bradley's was red. If they were going to have to start wearing a new team's jerseys and colors, he wanted to at least have one last hurrah. 

Bradley let you go into the row first, and then he took the next seat so Everett could sit by the aisle. And when everything started up, the ballpark got loud. The regular seats were filled with spectators, and it was so surreal that Bradley was sitting down here with the draftee hopefuls and his own family. 

You pulled out your phone and said, "Aunt Molly wants a selfie." Bradley grinned as you and Everett both leaned in closer to him and smiled. You snapped the photo and said, "I'm sure she's going to want a ridiculous selfie, too." So the three of you made obnoxious faces, and then you sent them to your sister with a giggle before letting your cheek rest on Bradley's shoulder. 

It was starting to get hot in the sun now as the league commissioner made her way up onto the stage and announced that the draft was officially beginning. "Holy shit," Bradley whispered, reaching for your hand. He was so excited, practically shaking. And he cheered politely as the crowd screamed when shortstop Javier Marianas was chosen first by the Milwaukee Brewers. 

"He's really good," Everett remarked, completely calm while Bradley was sweating bullets. "He went to USC and I pitched against him once. He nailed my slider."

Bradley could only grunt in response as the Toronto Blue Jays were up next. He had no idea how everyone around him was so calm when he thought he might throw up. He looked up to see the teams listed in order on the jumbotron. The Phillies had the sixth pick, which surely would never happen, but the Padres were drafting twenty third. Having Everett close to home in San Diego for most of the year would be amazing. Bradley was already crossing his fingers. 

The Texas Rangers, Washington Nationals and Chicago White Sox all chose power hitters. Bradley tried to sit still while Everett told him that the player chosen by the Rangers was his roommate a decade ago at the Little League World Series. But Bradley was too distracted to listen to much of anything as members of the Phillies organization walked up onto the stage, and the clock started ticking down until their draft selection needed to be turned in.

And then Bradley could tell that while his son seemed calm on the outside, he was a little anxious after all. He saw the prominent bob of Everett's Adam's apple as he swallowed and whispered, "Would have been cool, huh Dad?"

Bradley gently let go of your hand and turned a little bit to wrap his arm around Everett's shoulders and pull him close. His son smiled at the awkward hug, and Bradley told him, "Kiddo, any team would be lucky to have you." He wanted to give him some more reassuring words, but there was nothing else to say. If Everett was selected, the team that chose him would be gaining an amazing pitcher, sure, but also a solid teammate and someone who cared about more than just himself. 

So Bradley kept his arm around his son as the league commissioner returned to the microphone. There were Phillies staff members ready and waiting with a jersey and baseball cap, and they all looked excited for their new player to be announced. The commissioner cleared her throat and said, "With the sixth overall pick in this year's draft, the Philadelphia Phillies choose pitcher Everett Bradshaw."

"Holy shit," Everett whispered as he stared up at the stage with his mouth hanging open. 

Bradley jolted forward in his seat as you scrambled to get your phone out again. "Holy shit," Everett and Bradley said in unison as the crowd started to cheer when Everett's stats started scrolling along the jumbotron screen.

"Ev!" you shrieked, and Bradley jumped to his feet. 

"Kiddo! The Phillies!" he said, and slowly Everett rose to his feet too. "The Phillies!" 

And then his son was in his arms, slapping him on the back as he said, "Dad. Oh my God! The Phillies!"

Bradley kissed his cheek and squeezed him. "The Phillies! Go up and get that fucking jersey!" And then Everett leaned in to give you a quick hug before he very gracefully walked down the aisle toward the stage. 

But Bradley was absolutely losing his mind now as the cheering around them grew louder. "Yeah! The Phillies! Kitten, the fucking Phillies!" He raked his hands through his hair. "Our son is going to Philadelphia!"

"He got drafted!" you screamed over the crowd, and Bradley vaguely registered that you were holding your phone up as you jumped around. 

"He got fucking drafted! By the best team in baseball!" Bradley shouted, pumping his fist in the air. And then there was a champagne bottle in his hands, and he started chugging it before screaming, "Yes!" He was jumping with you now, spraying champagne all over the place as he watched Everett take some photos on the stage in his brand new Phillies cap with the jersey held up in front of him. "That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"

Bradley lunged for you and your shriek of ecstatic laughter had him scooping you into his arms. "Coach! He did it!"

He smothered you in kisses as you took the bottle from his hand and drank some of it. "That's our son! I'm so proud of him!" 

"You did this, Coach! You're the one who made this happen!"

Then he shared so many champagne flavored kisses with you as Everett was escorted off the stage to riotous cheering.

-------------------------

A couple hours later, the three of you were back in the hotel room, all sticky from champagne with enormous smiles on your face. You watched as Everett kept hugging Bradley, and now both of them were wearing brand new Phillies caps turned backwards. "Thanks, Dad."

"You need to stop thanking me," Bradley replied softly. "It was all you. I'm so damn proud, Kiddo." But he did look pleased with himself. "Hey, my phone keeps blowing up. Everyone is so excited. I've got about a hundred texts from Maverick, Bob and Molly." But then Bradley froze and squinted down at his phone screen. "Charlie and Flora sent me links to a video they said went viral?"

"What is it?" you asked, but as soon as you looked at the screen, your eyes went wide. "Oh my God."

You watched as the video you had taken of Bradley screaming with the champagne bottle played on his phone. 

"The Phillies! Kitten, the &%@#ing Phillies! Our son is going to Philadelphia!"

Everett erupted into laughter as Bradley just stared at the screen. "I feel like maybe I should be embarrassed?" he mumbled as he continued to watch himself spraying champagne everywhere.

"He got &%@#ing drafted! By the best team in baseball! That's my son! That's my son! I love you, Everett! He's a Phillie! Hell yeah!"

"How did Yahoo Sports get this?" Bradley asked as the video started to play again on loop. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

You were gasping as you tried to stop laughing. "I don't know! I only sent it to Molly!" 

"Molly," Bradley growled, cradling his forehead in his hands as he blushed deeper.

"Dad, it's got half a million views already! This is the funniest thing I have ever seen in my life! I'm sending it to everyone I know!"

And when you turned on the TV in the hotel room, the video was playing there. And when you went back to that sandwich place for dinner, Bradley pulled his cap down lower over his face, because it was playing there, too. And you and Everett couldn't stop laughing no matter how hard you tried.

"It's okay, Coach. If you weren't the biggest Phillies fan in the world before, you certainly are now," you told him. He squeezed into the booth first and then pulled you in to shield him as the people sitting at the bar were laughing at his viral video. 

"Nah, I'm just the biggest Everett Bradshaw fan in the world. But listen, we need to come up with a game plan," Bradley said, pulling up the notes section on his phone. "The Phils want you there by next month, Ev. So we all need to fly out and find you an apartment. We can pay the first month and the security deposit until you actually have your signing bonus available. And we also need to go over that contract with a lawyer when we get back home to San Diego. Kitten, can you call that lawyer in your book club?"

But you just kissed him on the cheek as Everett leaned over the table with a smile. "We'll figure it out, Dad. But actually... I was thinking after we eat dinner, you and I could go to that park down the block from the hotel? I brought all my gear with me. Maybe I could pitch to you until it gets dark?"

Bradley immediately dropped his phone onto the table and squeezed his son's hand while tears stung his eyes. "Yeah, Ev. I would love that. The perfect ending to the perfect day." 

And then he watched his son eat two more huge sandwiches and half of your fries as he gushed about how excited he was to play major league baseball for his favorite team and Bradley's.

---------------------------

I love thinking about how Everett becomes known as the player with the "really excited dad". Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

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[bignosebaby]

If you've heard of black crested macaques or the Yaki monkey, it is probably this one:

This black crested macaque became famous in 2011 when the photographer David Slater was taking photos in the jungle of Sulawesi Indonesia where black crested macaques are indigenous fauna. Slater was not the photographer who captured this photo, however. It was the macaque who has since been commonly called Naruto who took its own photograph on Slater's camera. The famous monkey selfie sparked a copyright lawsuit brought by PETA onto Slater, which was settled in 2017 with an agreement that Slater would donate a percentage of any profits gained by the pictures Naruto took to organizations that protect this species in the wild.

For the millions who enjoyed Naruto's selfies online, the story ends there. For Naruto and the Yaki the story continues. The black crested macaque is critically endangered. Slater's website says he donates 10% of the proceeds of all "monkey selfie" merchandise to "a monkey conservation project in Sulawesi", and while he does not specify which conservation project he supports, there is one I know of that does incredible work.

Selamatkan Yaki is an operation with a huge impact. The Yaki is one of the most endangered primates in the world, and it can be difficult to gauge just how many of them are out there. This is where biodiversity monitoring comes in to produce the data needed for effective conservation protocol. A pilot study was conducted in Tangkoko Nature Reserve, which has created the blueprint for surveying the entire province using camera traps and remote sensing to observe the Yaki and their threats over time.

Using the data gathered from monitoring, Selamatkan Yaki collaborated with the government agency for natural resource conservation to create a Species Action Plan (SAP). This species action plan is not only an evidence based conservation plan designed to save the Yaki, but all the other species that share its forest home. Establishing the Yaki as a flagship species is crucial as this charismatic monkey is just one of many species that is not found anywhere else in the world.

One of the major threats Yaki face, like many other primate species, is hunting for wildlife trafficking and the bush meat trades. While hunting the Yaki is illegal, it takes a true culture shift to keep endangered animals out of traps and cages. Selamatkan Yaki has developed both community conservation and environmental education programs designed to unite local communities in protecting the species. The community conservation program involves surveys conducted since 2007 so that long term data on human-animal relationships can be tracked to best identify community conservation methods. This data is used in the environmental education program which introduces information on biodiversity and conservation to school curriculum and provides research opportunities and scholarships for post secondary students to contribute to conservation.

Selamatkan Yaki understands that it isn't enough to have a team of people dedicated to saving the black crested macaque-- the more people who care and help the better. Everyone has a role to play in conservation, but right now so many people outside Indonesia have only ever seen the black crested macaque once, in a photo online. That's why I'm partnering with Selamatkan Yaki to spread information about the work they do and the species they protect. To learn more about Selamatkan Yaki you can click the links in this post, and stay tuned for more on the black crested macaque.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with the Los Angeles Times (2024)

“This is where all the cruising happened.”

Jonathan Bailey and I are standing in Pershing Square on a bright, blustery spring afternoon, nearing the end of a homemade queer history tour of downtown L.A.: One Magazine, Cooper Do-Nuts/Nancy Valverde Square, the Dover bathhouse, the Biltmore Hotel and this, the city’s former Central Park, a haven, since before World War I, for “fairies” and “sissy boys,” servicemen on leave and beatniks on the road.

“Is it still happening now?” he asks.

“Probably not as much,” I venture.

“Well, you let me know if it’s happening,” he teases, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

Bailey understands the uses of the charm offensive. As Sam, the handsome Lothario of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s delightful pre-”Fleabag” curio, “Crashing”; Anthony, the romantic hero of “Bridgerton’s” second season; and John, the jerk of a protagonist in Mike Bartlett’s love triangle play “Cock,” the English actor, 36, has swaggered up to the precipice of superstardom. With roles in such studio tentpoles as “Wicked” and “Jurassic World” on the horizon, he may just break through. Yet he delivers career-best work in Showtime’s queer melodrama “Fellow Travelers,” as anti-Communist crusader-turned-gay rights activist Tim Laughlin, by leaving behind the self-assured rakes and tapping a new wellspring: soft power.

Tim may be, as Bailey puts it, “an open nerve,” but as it turns out, the devout Catholic and political naïf — who falls for suave State Department operative Hawkins “Hawk” Fuller (Matt Bomer) just as Sen. Joseph McCarthy tries to purge the federal government of LGBTQ people — is formidable indeed.

Stretching from the Lavender Scare to the depths of the AIDS crisis, in scenes of tenderness, cruelty and toe-curling sex, Bailey’s performance communicates that little-spoken truth of relationships: It takes more strength to submit than it does to control. The former demands discipline, courage, trust; the latter requires only force.

“In ‘Bridgerton,’ [Bailey] is like a Hawkins Fuller character — he is very sexy and has lots of power, has that kind of confident charisma that absolutely is not Tim at all,” says “Fellow Travelers” creator Ron Nyswaner.

But any doubt about Bailey’s ability to mesh with Bomer, who boarded the project early in development, was put to bed with the actors’ virtual rehearsal of a meeting on a park bench in the pilot. “‘Well, that’s a first,’” Nyswaner recalls an executive texting him. “I cried in a chemistry read.”

‘Am I inviting people in?’

Bailey grew up in a musical family in the Oxfordshire countryside outside London, and this, coupled with an appreciation for the morning prayers, choir practice and Mass he attended as a scholarship student at the local Catholic school, fed his precocious talents. (“I loved the performance of it,” he laughs. “Not to diminish the celebration of religious process, but I did love the idea of wearing a gown.”) By age 10, he’d appeared in the West End, playing Gavroche in a production of “Les Misérables,” an experience he now recognizes as an encounter with a queer found family — albeit one shadowed by the toll of the AIDS crisis, which peaked in the U.K. in the mid-1990s.

“When I’m asked about my childhood, there’s so much I don’t remember, and I think that’s true of anyone who’s been in fight or flight for 20 years,” he says. “I would have been in a cast of people whose friends would have died in the last seven years. I think of where I was seven years ago. I had all my gay friends then. It’s only retrospectively that I can retrofit a real gay community around me [in the theater], that I just wasn’t aware of [then].”

During the late 1990s and early 2000s, American and British culture presented queer adolescents with a bewildering array of mixed signals. As beloved celebrities came out in growing numbers, and the battle for marriage equality became a central locus of LGBTQ political organizing, the media continued to propagate harmful stereotypes of gay men as miserable, lonely, perverted or worse — and, Bailey remembers, callously turned George Michael, arrested on suspicion of cruising in a Beverly Hills restroom in 1998, and Irish pop star Stephen Gately, who revealed his sexuality in 1999, fearful he was about to be outed, into tabloid spectacles.

No wonder Bailey, like many LGBTQ people of his generation, should feel the “chemical” thrill of “validation and acceptance” during London Pride at age 18, then embark on a two-year relationship with a woman in his 20s.

“Dangerously, if you’re not exposed to people who can show you other examples of happiness, you think that’s the easiest way to live,” Bailey says. “It’s funny. You look back and you can tell the story in one way, which is that I always knew who I was and my sexuality and my identity within that. But obviously at times, it was really tough. I compromised my own happiness, for sure. And compromised other people’s happiness.”

Disclosures about his personal life have become particularly thorny for the actor since the premiere of “Bridgerton,” the blockbuster bodice-ripper from executive producer Shonda Rhimes.

“The Netflix effect does knock you off center completely,” he says, recalling the experience of finding a paparazzo waiting outside his new flat before he’d even moved in. “Suddenly, you do start having nightmares about people climbing in your windows... Even now, talking about it makes me feel like, ‘Am I inviting people in?’”

He is also critical of the media for churning out headlines about the smallest details of celebrities’ private lives, often detached from their original context. In an interview with the London Evening Standard published in December, Bailey described a harrowing encounter in a Washington, D.C., coffee shop in which a man threatened his life for being queer — and, in recounting the experience, offhandedly mentioned the “lovely man” he’d called, shaken, after it happened. Although Bailey acknowledges that the original story handled the subject with aplomb, he felt dismayed that more attention wasn’t paid to the intended warning about rising anti-LGBTQ sentiment: “The only thing that got syndicated from that story was that I had a boyfriend, and it wasn’t true,” he sighs. “It was kind of depressing, if I’m honest.”

Still, Bailey, who once turned down a role in a queer-themed TV series because it would have required him to speed along revelations about his personal life he wasn’t ready to make, is prepared to embrace the power of vulnerability when it feeds the work. Although a member of his inner circle expressed doubts about “Fellow Travelers’” steamy sex scenes, for instance, the actor intuited that they were what made the project worth doing: “I was like, ‘I’m telling you, they are the reason why this is going to be brilliant.’”

‘He’s changed my trajectory in my own life’

To those who would complain about the state of sex in film and TV, “Fellow Travelers” is the perfect riposte. All of it matters, from Tim’s first flirtation with Hawk to the finale’s closing minutes, because the series, at its core, is about the importance of soft power: the strength required to bend, but not break; to adapt, but not abandon oneself; to survive without shrinking to nothing in the process.And depicting that through sex, specifically gay sex, makes “Fellow Travelers” radical indeed.

Bailey understands that baring so much comes with certain risks. When I tell him that research for the story has filled my algorithmic “For You” feed on X (formerly Twitter) with speculation that his onscreen relationship with Bomer has a real-life element, he notes that “shipping” fictional couples and costars alike has long been part of Hollywood fantasy. But he bristles at the implication that he and Bomer are anything but skilled actors at work.

“I would love for people to know that the success of our chemistry isn’t based on us f—. It’s actually about us leaning into the craft,” he says. “It’s a vulnerable situation to be in, talking about it on record. I don’t want to rob people of their thoughts. But I do have a set of values, and as an artist, you don’t need to be f— to tell that love story.”

Underlying that craft, Bailey adds, is the confidence to speak up, as with one scene in “Fellow Travelers” that was adjusted because he said, “I don’t want to be naked today.” He learned to use his voice the hard way: In his early 20s, he recalls, he was once “bullied” on set when “someone was threatened” by him and vowed to himself, “I’m never going to do that to someone. I’m never going to allow that to happen.”

This impulse to direct his influence in support of others has blossomed further with “Fellow Travelers.” On the day of our interview, Bailey enthuses about an upcoming meeting with legendary gay rights activist Cleve Jones and shares his idea for a docuseries recording the stories of elders in the LGBTQ+ community while they are still here to tell them. He describes lying in a hospital bed on set on World AIDS Day, in character as Tim, surrounded by gay men who had lost friends and lovers during the crisis, and finding himself thinking, “What do I want to leave behind?”

“I think he’s changed my trajectory in my own life,” Bailey says.

This is, perhaps, the most common reaction I know to diving deep into queer history — the understanding that we, like our forerunners, are responsible for shaping the queer future, whether in politics, society or art. No one is going to do it on our behalf.

As we stand on the nondescript corner now named for her, I relate the story of the late queer activist Nancy Valverde, who was arrested repeatedly while a barber school student in the 1950s on suspicion of “masquerading” because of her preference for short hair and men’s clothing, and later successfully challenged her harassment by the police in court.

“What a hero!” Bailey exclaims, wondering at Valverde’s bravery. “The thing that’s so interesting with power battles is, ultimately, identity is the thing that gives you the most strength and power in your life, isn’t it?

“Because that’s one thing people can’t take away from you: who you are and how you express yourself.”

Source

[the-ace-with-spades]

trying to get myself in the mood to finish slow down (you're doing fine) so here are some headcanons, technically fic-specific but can be read as casual, mostly about the icemav fam feels and bradley

-Whenever they would go out to things like fairs, museums, amusement parks, etc Mav and Bradley would be running around from place to place trying out every thing available with Ice trailing behind them. Bradley grows out of it and is now more trailing behind Jake, letting him choose where to go, whenever they go out somewhere

-Mav met Carole in his last group home in foster care, kept in contact after he aged out and he was the one who introduced her to Goose

-When Carole was still alive, she and Mav would teach Bradley how to play the piano - years later he turned out to be much better than both of them despite being mostly self-taught

-When Ice was stressed out, he would sit down and ask Mav or Bradley to play something for him

-Bradley actually has perfect pitch - he can name any note without the aid of a reference. this makes him incredibly sensitive to musical errors and things being out of tune. Despite that, Bradley was taught by his mom that music performed by loved ones always sounds better, no matter the actual performative value. Despite being a music teacher, Carole would never sing/play at home, always asking Mav or Bradley to do so for her, for the same reason.

-Years later, he realizes Jake has an absolutely terrible singing voice and no sense of rhythm. Despite that, he purposefully tells Jake his shower singing is annoying, knowing fully well Jake will keep doing it to annoy him more and he could keep on listening without being caught being sappy.

-This is also why he never taught Jake how to play piano - he knew it'd be an otherworldly experience and he was pretty sure he'd cry the first time Jake would be able to play the smallest of melodies on his own

-Mav was absolutely terrified that Bradley would end up like him - with a dead pilot for a dad, a sick mom who died before he made enough memories with her and then landing in foster care. In case something happened to Ice and Mav, they had plans C, D and E for Bradley's legal guardianship

-Ice and Mav argued about who would teach Bradley how to shave -- ended up doing it together

-Most admirals (and people who work with Ice in general) know that Bradley is his son, heard him gush about him throughout the years - from Bradley's high school musical roles, baseball matches to Bradley's scholarship and getting his wings and ending with Bradley winning TOPGUN

↑ Literally the proudest dad ever, it's adorable

-Ice hadn't liked a single boyfriend/girlfriend Bradley had and the jury's still out on Hangman

-Mav, on the other hand, hadn't been even aware that Bradley dated - he'd literally invited his high school girlfriend for family dinner and Mav had thought they were 'close friends' and when Ice told him about Hangman and Bradley moving in together after flight school (keeping tabs on Bradley during the no contact era), Mav didn't realize he meant together-together until Hangman told him years later

-Ice also has a photo from Bradley's winging ceremony in his office, standing in front of one of him and Mav and one of the three of them

-Mav absolutely teases him about it even though he literally once blocked up a queue in a grocery store to tell the cashier all about his naval aviator son who had a baseball scholarship and could play the piano after she asked if he has kids. Bradley was already over 25

-When they settled in for Bradley's high school years, they rented a house off-base so he could go to a better school than the ones around the base

-Phoenix is the first girl Bradley slept with and he was the first guy she had slept with. It happened during the beginning of flight school and they did it as friends.

-Bradley's homeroom teacher (who was also his drama club teacher) knew about Mav and Ice since Bradley's freshman year as they would sometimes both come to P-T meetings

-Ice started climbing ranks because he thought Bradley needed more stability and that way he would be able to stay home/in one place - he knew it would break Mav if he was the one to stop flying

-After Ice stopped being deployed, Slider became Mav's RIO for the few years he was still on active duty

-They would both take Bradley flying a lot but the first time when he was allowed to pilot was when he was 14, with Mav in the plane

-Ice would actually take Bradley on unauthorized flights in jets more often, just because he was smarter about it - when he didn't know how to make Bradley feel better, he would pack him in the F-14's backseat and fly

-Whenever the '86 class would meet, Ice and Mav usually would take Bradley with them since they didn't have anyone to leave him with most of the time, hence a twelve-year-old Bradley sitting in a bar late at night with about ten navy guys and goating them into bets over card games that Mav taught him how to cheat at

↑ that's also how Bradley learned to play pool

-Bradley didn't know they weren't married because they couldn't get married until he was 12 and was absolutely horrified when he found out gay marriage wasn't a thing

-Ice, while loving being Bradley's dad, struggled with not feeling guilty about it - legally, only Mav was his godfather, and he felt like he built his happiness (their family) on Bradley's tragedy

[allhalesterekstilinski]

I want to talk about the Teen Wolf siblings, particularly their age differences.

Brett is a freshman in season 4. We don’t know how old Lori is, but later she says Brett only accepted the scholarship at Devenford if they would accept her as well. This means either Devenford includes some middle school as well as high school, Lori was smart enough to skip a grade or two, Brett and Lori are 9 months apart, or they’re twins. It’s also possible she’s a couple years younger and was only recently accepted, but since he bargained for her from the beginning, I don’t think it’s as likely.

Based on the short audio clips from “Motel California” it sounds like Boyd and Alicia were close in age, both pretty young, but when we see her body she looks a little older. I would assume he’s older since he was in charge of watching her.

Malia and Kylie were close in age based on the framed photo in her room. In “Ghosted” Kylie has mysteriously aged from about 7 to about 12. Though this is likely due to forgetting information and not caring enough to fact check their own work.

The same could be said for Theo and Tara. They seem to be close in age, but the actresses playing Tara look like different ages. I would guess in season 5 flashbacks she was 11 or 12 when Theo was 9, but in season 6 she looks 17.

Isaac is 16 in season 2 and Camden would have been 24. There is a discrepency unless I’m missing something. Since season 2 is early in the year I’m willing to bet Camden would be 25 later in the year. If Isaac is 16 and Camden would be 24, that’s an 8 year gap. But if he graduated in 2006, he was born in 1988 and is approximately 6 years older. There’s no concrete evidence of when either of their birthdays are, so perhaps Isaac’s birthday is before Camden’s and there’s a short period of time the gap is 7 years. The calendar puts his birthday in February.

Kate said that growing up Chris always tried to make her look like the bad guy.  In 3B Chris says he was 18-years-old 24 years ago putting Chris’s birth year about 1969. Kate was born in 1983. That is a 14 year gap. Either she exaggerated or lied, which I would believe, or Chris was an incredibly shitty brother, which I would also believe. Could you imagine 17 year old Chris blaming 3 year old Kate for him coming home late one night or breaking their mom’s favorite vase?

We don’t know how old Gerard is. Alexander was 27 when he died. Alexander was 19/20 years older than Chris, so Gerard was probably in his early to mid twenties when Chris was born. A lot of actors’ ages coincide with their character’s approximate age. Michael Hogan was born in 1949, so if Gerard is around his age, he’s 20 years older than Chris and 34 years older than Kate. But then he would one year older than Alexander. Not impossible, but he is likely older.

Hayden is about 16 in season 5 because she can drive. The youngest a cop can be is 20, so at the very least Clark is 4 years older. It sounds like Clark had been her guardian for a while, so the gap is likely larger.

If we are going to believe the “In Memorium” video from MTV, Laura was born in 1982 and Peter was born in 1976. We never actually know how old Derek is. Jeff said his ID, putting his birthday in November 1988, was fake, but why? What is the significance of it being fake? It served no purpose and I think Jeff just wanted to fuck with us. Especially because it’s not canon in the show, he said it outside of the show. And if we believe the calendar that makes Derek a Christmas baby, why would he make himself only a month and a half older?

I’m going to assume Derek was “with” Kate leading up closely to the fire, meaning late 2004. If Derek was 16, or almost 16 if his birthday is Christmas, that would put his birthday in 1988. So in the pilot he’s 22. In the script he was meant to be 19 but then he was aged up because Jeff thought it was more important to traumatize him than find a way around it. In 3A Cora says she’s 17, which would put them at a 5 year gap. Laura is 6 years older than Derek and 11 years older than Cora. And if Cora was 11 by January of 2005, she was born in 1993.

I don’t know if this is canon or fanon that Talia raised Peter. Regardless, he is about 5 years older than Laura, 12 years older than Derek, and 17 years older than Cora. But Talia would have to be at the youngest 8 years older than Peter, and that’s if she had Laura at 13. In “Visionary” she appears to be about mid-forties. If this is within a year of the fire, then Peter is 26/27. The gap between Peter and Talia could range from 8 to 20 years.

I’m just so interested in these dynamics.

[captainzigo]

since I have been making my little pony comics for the past few months, I have basically forgotten what every single one of my duckverse comic prompts means. I had a big list full of one sentence prompts for duckverse comics that I was going to make, and I was reading through it yesterday, because I thought about making one. I was surprised to find out that I have no idea what any of them mean. instead of just deleting the list, I have decided to share with you. For what good it will do you. Think of this as a little shout out to the people who followed me for duckverse content. i havent forgotten about you. it’s also a little peek in my twisted mind. my horrible creation process. a behind the scenes look from hell. the list of prompts is below the break

max college fund

launchpad rescue hero

costco 22¢ per bite

house of mouse

door to darkness

because i’m hispanic?

donald cousins catch and release

fish wife

the greatest skateboard trick in the seven seas

backyardagins movie

evil versions boy band

gladstone gay moms

the poor part of town

private army of freaks vs my boys

you own the town. you are politics - what do you think taxes are for - not gladstone bail - id be doing everyone a favor

kids table is great actually

donald cry gold swim

beautiful gold moon

villains table

these lovebirds

gladstone can’t read

gladstone hyper specific thrift store shirt

louie seeing anyone right now?

managed my uncle’s finances

june dolls episode

may louie webs spy episode

house of mouse christmas hdl want to come

propeller cap start to turn. big wind. its a helicopter landing. thanks babe

double gay batteries

daisy likes donald snoring

if you can understand anything he says then yeah!

sora. quack pack. bald monkey

i respect your pronouns. i dont not respect YOU scrooge

why are you friends with my rival’s girlfriend

we’re sisters now too???

The dancing hacker - do you know how hard it is to lucid dream

are you guys playing dancing hacker?

how did you do that? Those dice were rigged i mean.

you guys were supposed to prepare a musical number every session

Lady in pink but with a knife

girl boss? No girl lady. But not a girl.

sephirof at the door. never seen Donald that serious in my life.

I have a superhero alter ego - like super Grover?

louie x robin the frog

daffy: i’m getting you a job in Hollywood, kid! You gonna make big times. Why? uh… i’m friends with your mom.

Duckburg community college is the only community college that does dance scholarship

duckberg community ducks, and the Duckburg University geese

in helicopter: you ever going to get tired of having our dates like this? no never.

donald take responsibility for our son! panchito what

babe your costume is terrible. why are you still in a sailor hat

tasha austin gay lesbian solidarity

hey webby! *glittery hands*

webby diary

shake for trust? glitter on hand. body slam

why did t you tell me your girlfriend is a pilot? tasha said i shouldn’t tell you because of what happened to you pilot ex. he’s still alive!

pablo: sleeper agents be like time for my next mission

CHRISTMAS GIFTS

WHATS UP T-BOYS?

donald’s boyfriends what does gladstone have against gay people

donald you should wingman for me. i thought you were gay

dugan duck is your secret kid isn’t he

huey ponytail

donald has three boyfriends why can’t i have two

woops i mexed up their super powers - let’s go, t boys! i didn’t make them trans! they were like that before, right?

your brother donald has like five partners. yeah and i’m not my brother donald. you’re right. i should date your brother donald

dewey damn girl your ass phat what are your pronouns. katy nun/ya

tying normie trans girl to a chair turbo pablo

don’t worry. the promise ring is just a tracking device

punch buggy gets steadily more and more violent

dewey’s many licenses

duck twins cobwebs

beaks: help! #911

katy can not entertain in her tiny trailer

uno gaydar donald i finally give you a job and you’re being gay on the clock??

when mom comes in and you have to hide your DS under your pillow

HDL Tulin

HDL chart

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 2

Part 1

AU Summary: Had some ideas about the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is back-up commander and CAPCOM on the ground at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read and liked part 1! I have this whole story very loosely plotted but have no publishing schedule. I'll be out of town this week, so it may be longer before part 3 is up. Also, fun fact, this was originally going to take place in the 70s during Apollo, but I really wanted to write Clegan as out and proud. I think you can see why.

See end notes for term definitions.

--

September 8, 2025 Houston, TX

Growing up, Gale Cleven was always just Gale Cleven. Top of his class, quiet but kind, a little something wild but innately good. He doesn’t talk much about his childhood, about his parents. He grew up too fast, learned too early that life is unfair, that people are unkind – even the ones who are supposed to take care of you. He grew up with his head in the clouds, dreaming of elsewhere. He wanted to be someone, to do something. He wanted to fly away. 

So when he needed money to go to college, he took a scholarship from Air Force ROTC. He would become a pilot. He would get a degree in aerospace engineering. He would learn about math and physics, and about the giant universe he dreamed of. He would do something important, something worthwhile, because he needed to be better than the man who raised him. 

Weirdly enough, being an astronaut was never a serious consideration. The space program was about impossible to get into as it was, and getting smaller. The heyday of Apollo and the shuttle were over. NASA was under fire once again in the early 2000s following the Columbia disaster, and space travel just didn’t interest the public, or the politicians, as much as it once did. Gale was fascinated by it, always had been, but he was much more interested in the physics, the math, the engineering. Even as he wanted to be a pilot, he hardly entertained the idea of being an astronaut. 

All of this, until he met John Egan. 

Freshman year of college, a talk, lanky, dark-haired boy with the most beautiful smile Gale had ever seen barreled into their assigned dorm room and hit Gale’s life like a freight train. He called himself Bucky, and he started calling Gale Buck, no matter how many times Gale repeated his actual name. Bucky Egan was also in AFROTC with dreams of being a pilot. A mechanical engineering major, not because he wanted to be or because the Air Force wanted him to be – physics really was not suited to him to be honest – but because he knew NASA would want him to be. And Bucky Egan fully intended to be a NASA astronaut. 

Gale could tell from day one that nothing would stop this boy; he was a force of nature, and if something stood in his way he simply jumped over it. 

What Gale did not know from day one was that, 16 years later, this was the man he would marry. What he did not know was that this man would completely change his life. 

It was John Egan that, one random night during their time in college, drunk on tequila shots, looked at Gale and said “still think it’s crazy you don't wanna be an astronaut. You’d be NASA’s poster boy.”

Gale Cleven was always just Gale Cleven, future pilot and engineer. Until he met John. Now, standing in a crowded bar in Houston, Texas, he’s Major Buck Cleven, astronaut. One of NASA’s poster boys. 

The Hundred Proof Bar, just down the road from Johnson Space Center, is a long-time local favorite of astronauts and JSC employees. It’s decorated with military and space program memorabilia, with a tradition almost as old as the bar itself: once an astronaut goes to space and returns from their mission, they get their astronaut portrait hung on the wall behind the bar, joining a small and coveted community of great pilots, explorers, and scientists. Among the Houston NASA community, having your picture behind the bar almost means more than having it at NASA. 

Over the bartop, Gale stares at his own portrait. Like most of the others, he’s in a bulky white EVA suit, one hand resting on top of a space helmet, an American flag in the background. The photograph was taken nearly three years ago, ahead of his inaugural six-month ISS mission, the culmination of over a decade of hard work in school, the Air Force, and astronaut training. You can read the expression on his face like a book in that picture: pure excitement, like it was everything he had ever dreamed of. 

Bucky’s picture is right next to his. Even though their first missions didn’t coincide, Jackie, the owner of the place and head bartender, insisted that putting them beside each other was the only correct course of action. Bucky looks just as ecstatic as Gale. Soon, though, there will be a new portrait of him in its place, one specific to Artemis 3.

“Here you go, love.” Jackie sets a glass of soda with lemon in front of Gale and he thanks her before taking a sip. He stands there at the bar, one hand on his glass and the other shoved in his pocket, just staring at the photographs. A little legacy to the world that’s representative of something far greater. They’d really made it, in the end.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” a voice says beside him. Gale looks over at Marge and smiles as she wraps an arm around his back and squeezes. 

“Thought you weren’t coming tonight,” Gale says as he hugs her back.

When she steps away, she shrugs. “Miss John’s birthday? He’d kill me.”

Gale laughs, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Please, you can pretty much do no wrong in his eyes. He’d forgive you.” Bucky had come to love Marge like a sister over the years. Gale was worried at first that they wouldn’t click, back when Marge visited them in college for the first time, but he had rarely been so wrong. They get along like a house on fire, for better or for worse.

Marge shakes her head and chuckles. “No babe, that would be you. Pretty sure John would help you get away with murder if you asked.”

“Who says he hasn’t?”

Marge just shakes her head again. “Well, I just popped in to say hi, wish the birthday boy well.” She pokes Gale in the chest, looking pointedly at him. “I meant what I said. By all means, have fun tonight, but I don’t want to hear about any scandals, okay? I’m good at my job, but the press will have a field day if they get a whiff of the next moon walkers doing anything… unruly.”

“Marge,” Gale says, pushing her finger away gently. “They’re young astronauts. Unruly is their middle name.”

Marge cocks her head and stares him down. Gale tries not to squirm under the intense, disapproving gaze of a terrifying woman several inches shorter than him. “Please just-” 

“HEEYYYY!” Cheers erupt around the Hundred Proof as the front door swings open. Marge sighs and looks at Gale with an expression that says ‘you’re not off the hook and you better do as I say,’ but she drops it. Bucky walks inside, followed by Curt, Rosie, and Alex. He smiles and laughs and shakes hands, thanks people for the birthday wishes, hugs friends he hasn’t seen in too long. The place is packed with astronauts, NASA employees, space program families, and even some Air Force friends that were able to make a quick trip in. Gale turns around and leans back against the bar, watching Bucky work his way through the crowd.

He’s changed into a white tee shirt and an old black leather jacket on top of dark jeans, a timeless look that’s followed him since he first met Gale in college. He’s pretty sure the jacket itself has been with him through many of those years. Once he spots Gale, his smile gets wider and he pushes his way towards the bar. First he leans in and hugs Marge tight. “Happy birthday,” she says, ruffling his hair before he lets go.

“Thanks for coming,” he tells her. “I promise I will not be on my worst behavior tonight.”

Marge rolls her eyes. “That may be all I can ask for.” She pats him on the arm lovingly. “Enjoy yourself, okay?” She looks at both of the men standing in front of her – two men that she still sees as college boys; men who she is endlessly proud of and who also endlessly test her patience. “Sorry I can’t stick around, but I have to fly over to Cape Kennedy in the morning for some press. I’ll see you boys in a few days.”

They both hug her again before she walks off, slipping through the crowd effortlessly even in her heels. Bucky turns and looks at Gale, glances him up and down before breaking into a grin again. “You wore something cute.”

Gale looks down at himself, picking at the cuffs of his shirt. He’d picked out a black on black outfit: some nicely tailored black jeans and a black dress shirt with the top two buttons undone, complete with polished black leather oxfords – a look he admittedly knew would please Bucky with the way it fit his body so perfectly, the way it accentuated his shoulders and his waist at the same time. “Did I?” He asks innocently. Bucky nods, biting at his lower lip. Truthfully, everything looks good on Gale anyways. Gale shrugs, smirking at him. “Well, I live to please.” Before Bucky can really get any ideas in his head, though, Gale leans in and puts a hand on Bucky’s hip as he kisses him on the cheek. “Happy birthday, John,” he whispers.

They’re pulled away from each other by the sound of someone tapping loudly on a whiskey glass. Curt is standing on a nearby table, bringing in the attention of everyone in the room. He glances at Gale and Bucky. “Sorry lovebirds, but it’s not your wedding night yet. Give it a rest so I can say some words about Bucky here.” Gale blushes and pinches the bridge of his nose as their friends laugh around them. Bucky takes a step to the side, but still grabs Gale’s hand in his. Curt nods and goes on. 

“Most of us are here tonight to celebrate Bucky’s birthday. Quite frankly I’m shocked he has this many friends, but thank you for being here.” He laughs with the crowd as Bucky holds a hand dramatically to his heart. “No, really though, Bucky’s an amazing guy. I’m real lucky to know him, and I’m lucky to have him in that Artemis lander with me when we go to the moon in November.” Raucous applause and cheering fills the room at that and Curt puts his hands up as he yells over them that he ain’t finished yet. He looks at Bucky and raises a glass. “Happy birthday, brother. You’ve worked hard to get here, and you deserve every bit of it. May we make history this year!”

Applause rises again, louder now, and people stomp, holler, and shout as Curt motions for Bucky to take his place on the table. He climbs up and takes in the room. “Very touching, Curt, thank you,” he says. “I’m honored to be commander of this mission.”

“Of all the drunks in this joint!” someone calls out jokingly from the crowd.

Bucky laughs and puts a hand up defensively. “Listen, someone’s gotta make a nest for the rest of you dodos. Make sure it’s safe. Just think of me as an overpaid guinea pig. Or, actually, rather underpaid for the circumstances.” This gets some laughter as well, even as no one in the room would ever truly doubt Major John Egan’s capabilities as a pilot or as an astronaut. They all know it’s true, however, that astronauts are not compensated enough for the risks they face. The money really isn’t why they do it though. “I’m not gonna stand here and wax sentimental,” Bucky says. “So thank you all for being here tonight. Now let’s get this party started!” 

–

The evening is a blur of drinks, music, friends, and more drinks. It starts innocently enough, with Bucky making the rounds and greeting everyone he can. He and Gale talk shop for a while with Albert Clark, flight director of Artemis 3, and a few of the flight controllers tasked with monitoring the crew and spacecraft for the duration of the mission. Harry Crosby, FIDO; Jack Kidd, FAO; and Joseph “Bubbles” Payne, GNC. Bucky then declares that they need shots, and he remembers a lot less after that.

At some point, Gale loses track of him while he chats with a few of the engineers at JSC, including a hell of a woman named Helen who flew on the ISS with him. They’ve remained good friends ever since, and she’s about the smartest person and one of the best engineers he knows. He’s happy to talk about EVAs and the astronaut vs. engineer experience working in the neutral buoyancy tank, rockets and lunar rovers, even office gossip and who has the cutest dog (Gale, hands down, no room for objection). But it’s been a long day, and Gale – despite finding himself smack in the middle of the public eye with interviews and networking and photo shoots to the point that he isn’t really sure where he ends and the extroverted facade he’d crafted begins – is starting to feel drained. He talks and he smiles and he nods, but he can feel autopilot starting to take over. He brushes his fingers over the glass in his hand, smearing the cold condensation as he takes a sip of soda water. He’s perfectly sober but the music is starting to make his head pound. He blinks and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

“Hey Buck,” Helen says, trying to hide her laughter with a hand over her mouth. Gale turns to see what she’s staring over his shoulder at and lets a quiet fuck slip out of his mouth.

“Hold my drink please,” he says to Helen, shoving the glass into her waiting hand before pushing through the crowd to where Bucky is standing in front of the dart board, crouched down so the top of his head is below the bullseye with a hand over his eyes. “And what exactly is this about?” he cries as he pulls Bucky away from the wall.

“Hey!” Curt exclaims, echoed by Alex. They’re both visibly drunk, darts in their hands as they look at Gale with displeasure all over their faces. 

“We gotta settle this, Buck,” Bucky insists, trying to tug away from the hand gripping his arm. Bucky may be bigger and stronger than him, but Gale is more sober by about a thousand miles.

“Settle what?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Well we ended in a tie,” Alex explains, like it makes all the sense in the world. “So now we gotta settle it somehow.”

The four of them stand in a loose approximation of a circle, staring each other down. Bucky has given up resisting and is leaning lazily back against Gale’s chest, fiddling intently with Gale’s fingers. Gale stands with one hand on his hip and the other wrapped around Bucky’s middle, holding the other man still while he tries to make sense of this. “And… the best way to settle that… is to throw darts at your commander? At my fiancé?”

Curt perks up defensively but his words are slurred. “Oh fuck no! We’re throwin’ ‘em above our fiancé.”

“My fiancé,” Gale corrects, as if that’s the most important part of this altercation.

Curt tilts his head and looks at him, his eyes shifting back and forth like he’s trying to make some sort of calculation in his head. Then he nods and points to Gale. “Yeah, yeah. Your fiancé.” He points to himself. “Our commander. Thassit.”

Alex adds, “whoever gets the dart closest to the top of his head wins.”

Gale rubs his face with one hand, groaning quietly. “No,” he finally says.

“No?” Curt asks, pouting. 

“No,” Gale asserts again. “Last thing we need is for John Egan to get kicked off Artemis cause he’s lost an eye. Now give me those.” He pushes Bucky gently to the side – which is met with a grumpy protest – and grabs the darts from Alex and Curt, who are surprisingly willing to hand them over.

“Buucckkk,” Bucky whines, tugging at Gale’s free hand as he gives the darts to Jackie to keep behind the counter for a while. “You’re no fuunnnn. Woulda been jus’ like when Tommy threw one at me tha’ time. Was fine.”

“Curt and Alex are a lot drunker, you dummy. You’ll thank me later.” Very unlikely. He probably won’t remember this later. Gale turns to address all three of the men. “Now go entertain yourselves in less destructive ways.”

–

An hour or two later – who can really say – as the crowd starts to thin out, heading home in hopes of getting some semblance of sleep before a full work day tomorrow, Gale finds Bucky standing at the bar, talking to some of their military friends. Jackie – saint that she is – had switched just about all of them to non-alcoholic beverages some time ago. When Gale tries to pull Bucky away, Bucky pouts and leans against the bar. “Come on, Buck, the night is still young.” It’s past midnight, actually. It’s officially Tuesday, and they have to go to work in the morning. Schedules are packed a couple months out from launch.

Gale shakes his head and wraps an arm securely around Bucky’s mid back, pulling him close. Bucky struggles at first but then pauses, turns his head to press his nose into Gale’s neck. “You smell good.” He sniffs again before Gale feels lips gently kissing his neck, making him freeze and try to keep from blushing too hard. 

“Okay,” he grunts, pushing Bucky’s head away from his collarbone while he tries to wrestle the rest of him away from the bar. “It’s definitely time to go home. Come on.”

Saying some hurried goodbyes, Gale pushes his way through the thinning crowd with Bucky half hanging on his shoulder and half stumbling beside him. Turning to look around is not an easy feat with 6’2 of muscular astronaut weighing him down, constantly switching back and forth between shouting out to friends across the room and trying to kiss Gale anywhere he can reach. But Gale manages to find who he’s looking for. Pushing between a small group of tipsy women with a mumbled apology, he reaches a hand out to grab Rosie by the shoulder. “You seen Alex?” he asks, raising his voice over the music.

“He left a little while ago!” Rosie yells back despite their proximity. Gale doesn’t know if he should be relieved that the number of drunk guys he has to wrangle has decreased or concerned over whether or not Alex was capable of getting home alone. But then Rosie adds, “Macon drove him home, don’t worry.”

Gale nods and steps closer. “You drunk?”

Rosie tilts his head to think for a moment, looks around the room, wriggles his shoulders back and forth like he’s trying to test his balance. “Eehhh.” He holds up a hand and tilts it back and forth in a ‘sort of kind of maybe’ motion.

Gale sighs as he pulls away Bucky’s hand, which is grabbing at his chin, and pins it down at his side instead. “Alright, you’re coming with me,” he says to Rosie. Then he points across the room to Curt, who is dancing on a table with a man and a woman to cheers from the crowd around them. He wonders how many people Curt has kissed tonight alone. “Grab him and meet me outside. Y’all can crash at our place.”

Rosie nods and heads off to extract Curt from… whatever is happening over there. Gale looks at Bucky, who is staring at him with his pupils blown wide. Bucky smiles drunkenly and kisses Gale sloppily on the mouth. Gale chuckles, long suffering, and presses his lips to Bucky’s temple. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Bucky taps him on the nose. “Cause you love me.” He can’t argue with that.

–

It takes some wrangling, some arguing, a little bit of threatening, and a lot of protesting, but Gale and Rosie manage to drag Bucky and Curt out of the car and through the door of the pretty ranch-style home on Nassau Bay. The second they walk in, they’re assaulted by two giant huskies all too excited to welcome them home. Meatball – who is really Demarco’s dog but has found himself in a weird co-parenting situation between Benny and Gale as the two alternate space missions and other work trips – just about knocks Curt to the tile floor right at the entryway. Pepper – the one year old husky who Gale and John adopted from a rescue earlier this year – slips and slides her way across the floor in her excitement to press her nose lovingly against Bucky’s legs.

“Hiya Pep!” Bucky immediately drops to the floor by the doorway to give Pepper all the hugs and kisses she deserves, laughing as she, very much not small enough to be a lap dog, wriggles her way into his lap anyways. Curt, meanwhile, stumbles away to the living room. “Couch!” he exclaims, before dramatically collapsing onto the couch and burying his face into a throw pillow.

“Shoes off!” Gale calls. Curt groans but awkwardly tries to kick off his dress shoes to no avail. Rosie rolls his eyes and goes to help. Gale bends down to scratch Meatball under the chin. “Benny’ll be home soon, bud.” He’s been on the ISS for over 6 months now and is due for splashdown next Wednesday. Meatball licks Gale’s hand before running out the door into the yard.

When Gale looks down at Bucky, still on the floor even though Pepper has run outside after Meatball, he’s staring forlornly at his feet. He looks up at Gale. “Buck, can you help me tie my shoes?”

“Your shoes are tied,” Gale says matter of factly, hands on his hips.

Bucky looks back at his shoes thoughtfully, touching the laces with oddly gentle fingers. He tugs halfheartedly. “Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t get them off.” 

Gale flexes his jaw, unimpressed, and nods. “Mkay.” He kneels down on the floor and carefully removes Bucky’s shoes, sets them neatly by the door. Then he hauls the man back to his feet. As he leads Bucky awkwardly to their master bedroom, he looks in on Curt, who is already passed out on the couch. Rosie had managed to get his shoes off and ensure he wasn't lying on his back. He then peeks into the first guest room where Rosie, mercifully still in his right mind, has already claimed a bed. “You good?” Rosie nods and gives him a thumbs up. Gale nods back. “See you in the morning.” They are in for a hell of a training day tomorrow. The only saving grace is that at least half of Johnson Space Center will probably be just as hung over.

Gale manages to get Bucky out of his jacket and settled on the edge of their bed before he goes about changing out of his own clothes, stripping down to his underwear before pulling on a pair of sweats. He is acutely aware of Bucky’s eyes tracking his every move until he goes into their en-suite to brush his teeth. Once he’s done in the bathroom, he returns to find Bucky staring out the big picture window at the full moon lighting up their backyard. 

He turns his head to look at Gale with wonder in his eyes. “I’m going to the moon, Buck.”

Gale smiles fondly as he sits beside him to look out at the night sky. He wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of his head. It really is everything Bucky has ever dreamed of, for as long as they’ve known each other.

“Yeah, John. You’re going to the moon.”

--

--

Part 3

Terms: EVA = extravehicular activity (space walks and moon walks)

FIDO = Flight Dynamics Officer; monitors the flight path and trajectory of the spacecraft

FAO = Flight Activities Officer; in charge of preparing the flight plan; manages changes in the flight plan and crew activities

GNC = Guidance, Control, and Navigation Officer; operates spacecraft navigation and control software during flight; responsible for spacecraft orientation

ISS = International Space Station

Neutral Buoyancy Tank = giant water tank at Johnson Space Center used to simulate working in zero gravity

[madlysage]

my stardew valley bachelor headcannons:

(basically just me creating my own characters as fodder for fic atp :,)

elliott (my darling)

- is from a wealthy family- his dad is british and a distant descendent of the royal family

- went to college for an english and philosophy double major and graduated with honors

- had an affair with a professor in college (he didn’t know she was married) and is estranged from his parents as a result

- secretly loves trashy bodice ripper romance books

- always comes in without knocking (dramatic man that he is)

- cannot garden to save his life

- an ugly crier

- yappiest yapper ever

- LOVES dancing (and was classically trained as a child- hello rich preppy parents)

-bi king

^^ like this but longer red hair (UGH)

sebastian

- bi-icon

- he’s mixed white and native american (choctaw to be specific)

- i always picture him with long ass black hair (it’s hot sorry)

- literally always picture billy wirth….

- he has a secret belly button piercing (but he’s hiding it from robin)

- his mom and dad had him as teens and his dad abandoned them because his family didn’t approve

- wants to be closer to maru but doesn’t know how

- alternates having crushes on sam and abigail (but let’s be so real it’s gotta be sam)

- has a soft spot for classical music

- smokes weed even more than cigs- feels responsible for how much sam smokes too

sebastian fans come at me all u want this is the man in my head when i picture himmmmmmmm

sam

-another bicon (could honestly be pan)

- secretly a smoker (don’t tell jodi)

- has tons of army men in his room- he started collecting them when his dad got deployed

- loves crop tops and will cut any and all of his band tees- but his mom keeps throwing them away

- is still kinda in the closet and a little girl crazy (particularly for abigail and penny)

- is teaching jas to skateboard on school breaks ever since she asked (a bit to impress penny)

(this just works for me idk- he gives me this vibe but like grungier and spunkier maybe)

harvey

- refuses to drink anything but black coffee

- king of anxiety

- secretly a good cook

- loses his glasses at least once a week

- can name any model of plane just from the sound of the engine

- wants to get his pilot’s license

- has a phenomenal record collection

………… yes this is my harvey and I WILL TAKE 0 NOTES GO ATJ GO

shane

- leaned how to braid hair just for jas

- was on the gridball team in highschool but keeps it a secret to avoid alex begging him to join his rec team

- was also best friends with jas’ dad in highschool from the gridball team and since his death he hasn’t been able to bring himself to play again

- wanted to go to college for agriculture but the loans would have been too much

- let’s jas paint his toenails any color she wants but is too embarrassed to let her do his finger nails

- got his ears pierced one night on a bender in the city but never wears them

- has a little crush on emily but is too embarrassed by it to ever tell (he doesn’t think she would ever feel the same)

- 1/4 indian on his mom’s side but isn’t in touch with the culture

- is a vegetarian but never talks about it

likkkke COME ON

alex

- wears a specific cologne and gets very upset whenever he runs out and can’t have his “signature scent”

- gets up early and makes breakfast for his grandparents everyday

- is poly but doesn’t rlly know that’s an option- and it ruins most of his attempts at monogamous relationships

- went to college for human physiology on a gridball scholarship but got Cs the whole time (but he’s still smarter than u would think)

- does yoga with evelyn every sunday and does george’s physical therapy each day too

- is the stardew equivalent of a freaking baptist christian (he’s all into Yoba)

likeeeee is this not bro

[respectthepetty]

I have my chrysanthemum tea soy milk latte with baby tapioca, my solidified colors, THE STALKER IS BACK, and Pat and Joke are in serious trouble! I'm thriving in episode 7 of Hidden Agenda!

My heart - Oh, these boys can kiss kiss? Tee ain't never had a bad kissing pair. NOT EVER!

My brain -

THE BLACK AND WHITE!!!!!!!

THE BLACK AND WHITE ARE BACK!

Joke and Zo switched colors, but still had traces of their color (Zo is wearing Joke's shirt!).

Then those helmets as usual.

And Zo changed from this darker striped shirt

to this lighter one

because the darker one call backed to a time when he tried to step out of his comfort zone and change his ways only to be humiliated, which makes sense why he was projecting so much since he was made to not trust his own feelings.

But because of Joke's dedication, Zo is more willing to try new colors things.

Even if he sticks with his tried and true.

Joke has taught him he that there is nothing wrong with trying something different (Joke was dedicated to trying all the rides at the amusement park even though he didn't like it) because all life is an experiment for this sunflower. The transition from night to day . . . chef's kiss.

But Nita's stalker is not too pleased to learn he has been lied to.

So he's going to befriend Zo with evil intentions.

Is this the rabbit in the bear trap finally happening? Because Zo has trash taste in friends (if you want trash, hire Title!).

And Pat and Joke are going to be in serious trouble after this little doozy of a comment because LOOK AT JOKE'S FACE!

Zo can't trust anybody!

Grandma foreshadowed he was going to have to toughen up!

Mostly when Joke is pulling stunts like this.

And by "stunts like this" I mean conspiring with your best friend to get you to date him.

Give me what the pilot trailer suggested!

Give me the angst!

And if Nita wins that scholarship . . .

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Bigger Than The Whole Sky ☁️ | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: pilot!reader (call sign: Cloud) x Dagger Squad (platonic), Best friend!Natasha Trace x reader

Content Warnings; major angst, major character death. Description of car accidents caused by drunk driving, blood, and fatal injuries. Sudden miscarriage. Mention of teenage pregnancy & dysfunctional family dynamics. Emotional with no happy ending—read at your own risk. Profanity. | female reader (she/her) | wc: 7.5k+

Premise: It was supposed to be a happy reunion, instead it ended in tragedy. Saying goodbye to friends was not uncommon for their job, but never did it get easy. For the members of the 2019 Top Gun detachment, the last thing they expected was for a senseless accident to take away one of their own. In their grief they relive memories of the woman who, in their eyes, was bigger than the whole sky.

Note: I’m sorry.

—————————————

Gray clouds painted the sky. A fitting yet cruel joke for those who stood below on the grass, staring ahead past the hills as though they could not see the caskets before them. One of which had the American flag draped over the white painted wood. Light rain dripped down from the skies, mixing with the tears cascading down the cheeks of every guest. Off to the side stood six servicemen holding rifles, awaiting their time for the 21 gun salute.

A final send off to their sister in arms.

Dressed in their Dress Whites, members of the uranium enrichment plant mission stood behind the family of Lieutenant Y/n ‘Cloud’ L/n.

Cloud. ‘What an odd call sign’ many of them thought when they first met her in October of 2019. Soon they realized it was perfect for the pilot who always appeared like she was on Cloud 9. Never had they met someone with so much optimism and bliss. Even after getting to know Y/n and discovering all she had gone through in her life, they could not believe she lived everyday with a smile.

From the beginning, Y/n was dealt with a challenging life. Father wasn’t in the picture, mother working two, sometimes three jobs to keep them afloat leaving Y/n to take care of her siblings. A social life was none existent, therefore Y/n put all her focus into caring for her family and school. She worked her ass off in school in hopes of getting a scholarship to college for it was her dream to become a fighter pilot. Having done Navy JROTC all four years in high school, Y/n learned the beauty of aviation, taking school trips to air shows and museums which made the desire grow. At seventeen her dreams were nearly put on hold when she fell pregnant to her high school boyfriend the summer going into senior year. The relationship with her boyfriend didn’t last once the news broke, leaving Y/n to face the reality her own mother went through.

Determined to achieve her dream and give her baby the life they deserved, Y/n got a job as a hotel receptionist while finishing high school. Instead of going to prom, she was in the hospital where she gave birth in March of 2005 to a baby boy she named Atlas. A healthy and perfect baby who stole her heart in ways only a mother would know. Atlas gave Y/n hope. He was her motivation to do better. Being his mother gave Y/n an endless state of bliss, always starting her day with a smile, with the goal of bringing nothing but happiness to Atlas’ life. He would never know hardships like she did. And although his father wasn’t in the picture, Y/n would be both mom and dad.

Good news and bad news came with the birth of Atlas. The good news was Y/n received a full ride to Boston University through their Navy ROTC program after Y/n’s successful interview. The bad, unfortunately, meant Y/n would have to waive her parental rights and give her mother custody at some point before commissioning, as she could not have dependents when coming into the Navy. Until then, Y/n could have her son with her through college. She and her best friend, who also was attending BU, found a little apartment close to campus and coordinated their schedules so her best friend could watch Atlas during Y/n’s morning PT and ROTC classes since her other professors for her major allowed her to bring the baby with her to class. Atlas loved going to Y/n’s classes, sleeping in his carrier or playing with his toys. Sometimes if he got fussy her professors would hold him which made the students' hearts melt.

Much like high school the young woman didn’t have a social life. It was hard to have one, being a full-time student and single mother to an infant. Though her college was paid for, Y/n found a part-time job on campus as a desk assistant for one of the dorms. Doing so allowed her to have Atlas with her while she studied and brought a paycheck to care for him. It was an easy job that pretty much consisted of her watching the lobby and making sure residents were safe. It gave Y/n all the time in the world to get her homework done. All four years she kept the job and split the money between savings and depositing into a trust fund for Atlas.

Commissioned to the rank of Ensign upon graduation from Boston University, Y/n waived her parental rights to her mother, who now had a well paying job and could care for Atlas until Y/n finished flight school and was assigned a squadron. It took a few years, with Y/n seeing her son only for holidays and once in a blue moon but just before Atlas’ eighth birthday Y/n was re-granted custody. She was assigned to the VFA-41, more commonly known as the Black Aces from NAS Lemoore, Atlas became her dependent, the two found a nice home off base to rent. Atlas was enrolled in the base elementary school, and at the end of the school day he’d go to the base youth center where Y/n would pick up after work.

With the Black Aces, Y/n, now known to her fellow aviators as ‘Cloud’ due to constant state of happiness like she was on Cloud Nine 24/7, met Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace. A woman who would become one of Y/n’s best friends. Together they made up the small percentage of female aviators at Lemoore, becoming so close they actually decided to be roommates with Natasha moving into the spare bedroom of Y/n’s home. Nat was surprised to learn Y/n had a child when they first met, but grew to see Atlas like a surrogate nephew, the boy always asking Nat to tell him stories and play games whenever Y/n was busy. “Aunt Tasha, can we play Just Dance?”

“I don’t think that’s fair since you always win, little man,” she teases, causing him to pout, “Oh alright. This time I get to pick the first song.”

A year after Natasha was selected to attend Top Gun, Y/n received the same invitation at 27 and therefore Atlas remained at Lemoore with Nat as his temporary guardian. Upon returning life seemed to be hectic with Y/n running mission after mission to the point she considered sending Atlas back to his grandmother. He was now ten and had trouble with the idea of moving. A momma’s boy through and through, the two were very close considering it was only them at one point in life. “No!” He protested, causing her to frown. “I wanna stay here with you. With aunt Tasha and my friends. Please don’t make me go back to grandma’s, momma.”

“Baby, I don’t want you to leave either,” she tells him, pushing away the hair on his forehead. “But I have to go off shore and aunt Tasha might be coming too.”

“Then please ask Jason’s mom if I can stay with them.” Hesitant to ask such a huge favor, Y/n does so for the sake of her son’s happiness. Jason’s mother was an angel, thank God, having no problem with Atlas staying with them whenever both Y/n and Natasha were on assignments. “I owe you big, Gwenyth. I can’t thank you enough for doing this. You’re an absolute lifesaver.”

And so for the next few years Atlas would stay with Jason or another friend’s family during times Y/n and Nat were on missions. It only happened a few times a year, the longest in 2019 when both pilots were called back to Top Gun for a special detachment. Atlas wanted to come with Y/n to San Diego but unfortunately it was in the middle of October during Atlas’ freshmen year of high school. She’d be gone roughly a month with three weeks for training and possibly one for the mission itself. Kissing her son goodbye, promising to call him everyday, Y/n and Nat left for Fightertown.

Coming into the Hard Deck was like deja vu. Dressed in their Service khakis Cloud and Phoenix led Fanboy and Payback into the bar where they met up with Hangman and Coyote, met Natasha’s new backseater, Bob, and reunited with Rooster and Halo. Of all the aviators besides Nat, Y/n only knew Halo coming into the detachment. She only knew Hangman by reputation and Rooster by name through Phoenix. It was the first time meeting everyone else.

When Y/n strolled up to the bar she was met with a bright smile from Penny. “Y/n!” She came around the bar to hug the aviator, “How are you? Gosh it’s been a while—Are you here for the same reason this place is swimming with Top Gun alum?”

Unaware of the Captain sitting at the bar, Y/n smiled back at Penny, “It’s great to see you again, Penny. And yeah, it looks to be that way,” she nods to the group, “Wasn’t told much details, but it must be something big to call that many of us back.”

“How’s your boy? Atlas is fourteen now, right?” At Penny’s question, Maverick’s hand paused as it was bringing his beer glass to his lips. He didn’t know much about his students besides the basics, so this was the first he was hearing one of them had children.

“Yup, God I can’t believe it sometimes. Feels like yesterday he was starting first grade. Now he’s in high school—plans to try out in spring for baseball. He wanted to come with me but it’s currently the middle of the school year.”

Glancing briefly, Mav didn’t find a ring on Cloud’s finger, causing his head to fall. Stress now consumed him tenfold, knowing the details of the mission could very easily have a flag draped coffin as the outcome. Later that night, after getting kicked out of the bar, Mav looked into Y/n’s file to find she was 31, unwed with a teenage son, and had given up parental rights at the beginning of her career before retaining them years later. Doing the math wasn’t hard, Mav piecing together the pilot had her child young. Right there his worst nightmare would be having to face Cloud’s son to tell him his mother died in action.

What should have been a three weeks of training, turned out to be two when the Pentagon received word the uranium plant would be operational earlier than planned. Brutal was the best way to describe the two weeks Y/n endured. Having to push her limits further than anything she’d ever done. At least she could say she pulled 10Gs and survived to say it. In the end she was part of the reserves, going out with Hangman to save Mav and Rooster from a fifth generation fighter.

“Thanks for the backup, Cloud,” Hangman snickered into the coms. “I guess I wouldn't mind having you as my wingman.”

The woman scoffed, but smirked not nemesis, “Please, you were my backup, Seresin.”

“Good eyes up there, Cloud,” Mav complimented. “I owe you big time.”

“Just doing my job, Captain. I’ll see you boys back on deck. And Hangman, I have a three mission rule before accepting candidates for the position of wingman.”

Arriving back to shore, Y/n was shocked to hear a familiar voice calling out, “Mom!” Immediately her eyes landed on Atlas running across the parking lot.

“Atlas?” She grunted when he slammed into her. The 14 year old was nearly as tall as her and full of straight muscle from all the years of sports Y/n had placed him in. Body already sore from the week she had, the impact made her stumble before steadying. Hugging him first, sighing in relief knowing she made it back to him, the pilot pulls away with a look of incredulous, “wha-what are you doing here? Who brought you here?” Before he could answer she looked up to find his best friend Isaac and his parents walking toward them.

“We’re so sorry to show up without warning,” Issac’s father Brian says, nodding to Atlas, “but he grew really worried—we all did, when we couldn’t get a hold of you the last few days. We called the commanding officer and he said you were off shore with the Pacific fleet.”

Y/n mentally cursed, bringing a hand to her nose while apologizing, “I’m so sorry, the cell service on board isn’t good and every time I tried to use the phone on deck there was a line. I’m so sorry for worrying you.”

“We’re just glad you’re okay,” Julie, Issac’s mother told her, smiling softly at Atlas curled into Y/n’s side.

“Thank you for coming all this way—bringing him to me. I’ll compensate you for the gas and time. Gosh, again I’m so sorry.” The couple politely declined, saying it was no trouble at all and to not worry about it. Still, Cloud made a mental note to make it up to them. While Y/n made the arrangements with Issac’s parents to take Atlas back home with her, the teenager sneaked off to find Natasha.

“Aunt Tasha!” The pilot spun around in surprise, a grin forming as she opened up her arms for a hug.

“Hey, little man!” They did their secret handshake after pulling away. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Well you and mom didn’t answer my calls. I thought something bad happened to you two.” His expression indicated he was a little upset. The anxiety the past couple days was nauseating for Atlas, unable to sleep thinking his mom and surrogate aunt by choice were dead.

Nat ruffled his hair, much to his displeasure, “Awe buddy, I’m glad you care about me that much.” Behind the pilot, the guys—minus Mav—appeared as though they suddenly grew two heads, looking between each other as the same questions popped in their mind: ‘Cloud’s got a kid?’

“Will you clowns stop staring and come over here?” Nat rolled her eyes, throwing an arm around Atlas’ shoulder. “Kid I’d like to meet the greatest pilots the Navy has ever seen,” she then lists them off by callsign, “Fellas, this is Atlas L/n. Cloud’s son.” There was an immediate bond between the dagger squad following the mission, and the discovery their colleague had a child—who she had at 17 and the father bailed—resulted in the guys becoming very protective of the two. That night when they celebrated at the hard deck, Y/n found the guys teaching Atlas to play pool and darts while also answering any questions the teenager had. It made her heart sink a bit, longing for Atlas to have that father figure in his life. For 14 years she was both mom and dad. The two amigos against the world.

The men of the dagger squad, including Maverick, became that ‘father figure’ for Atlas, though he referred to them as uncles like Nat was his ‘aunt’. Whenever he needed advice on something Y/n could not give him, one of the guys would be right there for him. Rooster and Atlas bonded over baseball, the two on each other’s team when the whole squad played a game, which was one of the best days the whole group had with each other. “Let’s go, Atlas. Let’s go, my man,” Rooster clapped, edging off of third base as Atlas came up to bat, “Bring me home. You got this.” Y/n was pitcher, giving a mock glare to her son before throwing the ball which Atlas his dead out of the field in a home run. Rooster ran home in glee as he cheered with their team, all waiting for Atlas to arrive back where the pilot lifted him onto his shoulders. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Hangman, much to Y/n’s annoyance, gave Atlas tips on how to pick up women for when he gets older. “The key is to swoon them. Make them feel like they are the only girl in the entire world. Once you do that, you just gotta keep the charm up.”

“Jake, you better not be having my son become a playboy. I will not have it.”

Bob, Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote loved to play games with Atlas, making it a tradition every Saturday night to reserve a few hours to hop online and join Atlas in whatever game they were currently loving. Sometimes it was Call of Duty, other times it was Fortnight (Which mostly occurred during the pandemic), once in a blue moon they would play Among Us for the hell of it or Friday the 13th. On Among Us nights the others, including Y/n, would join in and they’d all use their call signs for their names. Bob and Atlas were an unstoppable imposter duo, always winning whenever they were paired.

“Dammit, not again!”

“Hey, watch the language, Mickey.”

“I still don’t understand what I’m doing.”

“Mav, you gotta just stay alive and defend yourself if you get accused of being the killer.”

2020 was a hard year. One where the team did not meet up in person until nearly a year after lockdown. In the months leading to New Year’s they decided to get together to ring in 2021 together, taking days off and planning in advance. Luckily it worked out, with the team and their partners/families having a blast as they said ‘fuck you, 2020,’ and ‘hello, 2021.’ That night Mav and Y/n were chilling on the back porch of the hard deck while everyone else was dancing and having a good time. The cool breeze was comforting, the two basking in the relaxing tune of the ocean waves.

“I don’t know how you managed to do it,” Maverick said, making Y/n turn to him confused. “Being a single mom so young, getting through college and flight school all on your own and having to make the difficult decision to not have your son with you for four years. I don’t think I could’ve done it. The kid’s lucky to have you, Cloud. You’re an amazing mom and I don’t think you get told that enough.”

Glancing to her feet, Y/n softly smiled, “you know when I found out I was pregnant I was scared out of my mind. Then the man who I thought loved me and would love him walked out, leaving me alone. It felt like I was that little girl again when my dad left and my mom had to pick up the pieces with so many of us,” she paused as the memories flashed in her mind. “My greatest fear was disappointing him—I could’ve never forgiven myself if I did. The first time I held him, and he stared at me with those baby doe eyes, I said, ‘I guess it’s just you and me buddy. You and I against the world.’” In the window she spotted Atlas playing pool with Hangman and Coyote, smiling at the sight. “I used to go through life like it was a constant weight on my shoulders. Then he came along and I felt an endless bliss that never ended—like I was always walking on Cloud Nine. It’s why I named him Atlas, you know,” she turned back to Mav, “after the Greek Titan who holds the heavens and skies. I’m lucky to be his mom. He’s had to sacrifice a lot, had to adapt to things, but managed to stay happy. I’m so grateful everyday he’s never had to deal with what I went through as a kid. He’s happy, and that’s all a mother could ask for.”

Throughout 2021, meet ups with everyone from the dagger squad were roughly every other month. Usually it would be two or three, but not once since the New Year’s party did all of them find themselves under a single roof. They’d all returned to their squadrons or received new assignments. Phoenix and Bob became Top Gun instructors, leaving Y/n in Lemoore. Hangman was still with the Vigilantes, who were also located in Lemoore, and so was Coyote so Y/n saw them the most throughout the year. They came to Atlas’ baseball games and even house sitted when Y/n was on missions. Fanboy, Payback, and Rooster were back in Virginia, but often called to check in every once in a while. The team also had a group chat which was great when planning get togethers.

2022 was to be a big year. Atlas was turning 17 and would graduate high school with a full ride to UCLA in the fall. Y/n was beyond proud, literally on cloud 9 when he told her the news. She also finally allowed herself to open her heart to someone near the end of 2021, connecting with a nice man who was a civilian contractor. For months they saw each other before making it official. Not long after, about halfway through April, both were rendered speachless by the results of a certain test. Y/n was scared shitless again, but this time she didn’t have to worry about him walking out on her because he was more excited than her, spinning her around with joy. Atlas happened to walk in at that moment, saw the test, and nonchalantly said, “I hope it’s a boy. I’ve always wanted a brother,” playfully giving a disappointed look to Y/n, he added, “Thanks for waiting till I’m about to leave to do so.”

Nat was the first person she called, the pilot screaming into the phone, “Oh my God! Oh my God, Cloud! This is amazing—I’m so happy for you! Holy shit!”

“Don’t tell anyone!” Y/n laughed over her screams. “I wanna tell them when we’re all together next month!” To celebrate Atlas’ impending graduation, the team had all planned to meet in Fightertown to have a pre-celebration. Everyone was excited, taking leave just to travel for the weekend.

Never did they anticipate the tragedy that laid ahead.

On a warm late spring evening in San Diego, just as the sun was starting to set, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Hangman, Coyote, and even Hondo gathered in their usual corner exchanging hugs and greetings before starting the night with a round of beers.

“When are the others getting here?” Payback asked, settling on a stool while Bob and Mickey racked up a game of pool.

“Cloud and Atlas are staying in TLF on base,” Phoenix explained, “They got in about an hour ago and said they’d be on their way once they settled in. Rooster’s picking up Mav—he texted me he’d be leaving in fifteen or so.”

And so they waited. The bar wasn’t too crowded yet, however some people were already pissed drunk. Many of course were servicemen, including the new Top Gun students. One guy was kicked out and another Penny had to take his keys, telling him to call an Uber.

Unfortunately, those at the bar missed how he took them back when Penny was occupied with a customer…….A grave and ill-fated mistake.

Thirty minutes later and still the four the group were waiting for hadn't shown. Checking her phone, Phoenix saw Cloud had messaged her at about 7:55 saying she was on the way with Atlas. Rooster’s message was just five minutes before saying he got Mav and should be there in ten. The bar wasn’t too far from base, so hypothetically all of them should have arrived. Dialing Y/n, Phoenix waited for her to answer, but it went to voicemail after several rings. She then dialed Atlas. Again, no answer. Next was Rooster and Mav. No answer.

Not wanting to jump to conclusions, Phoenix decided to try again in a few minutes in case they were just around the corner. Maybe they got all the red lights. Maybe Y/n had to stop for gas. Maybe Rooster wasn’t in the mood for bar food and got fast food on the way. Nat didn’t want to worry herself, so she put her phone back down on the table and watched the game.

Ten minutes later Pheonix feels her stomach start to flip, “Something doesn't feel right.” The words aloud strengthened her intuition, the air around became unsettling. Dialing Y/n again and trying to keep a calm demeanor, Nat cursed when it went to voicemail again.

“What are you talking about, Trace?” Jake said, standing straight after taking his turn on the pool table. By now everyone’s attention was on the former Black Ace.

“It’s been over half an hour, and they’re still not here,” tapping Atlas’s contact, she pressed the phone to her ear, each ring making her nerves rise. “And no one’s answering,” she dropped the phone to the table, Atlas not answering the call.

Bob came over, dialing Rooster on behalf of Nat, “Maybe the car broke down. I’m sure they are almost here. Let’s not think ahead of ourselves.”

“I don’t—,” Nat waves a hand in front of her, closing her eyes to calm her breathing, “I don’t want to think of the worst…but they should've already walked through the door. None of them are answering—Cloud always answers and if she can’t she texts me to let me know and calls me back the second she can. I-I—-.” The words fall flat when Nat opens her eyes to see Penny, pale-faced and clutching her belly, approach the team. “Penny.”

The guys turn to see the woman, inhaling deeply as they take in her state. Blue green eyes were glossy, her hands were shaking as they hovered over her stomach.

Payback stood from his seat, breaking the silence no one seemed to want to do, “What’s going on, Penny?”

Her voice was low, cracking as she said, “Y-You guys need to come outside. Right now. Mav a-and Rooster are waiting for you.” Relief came at the news Mav and Rooster were there, but did nothing to settle the unease regarding Cloud and Atlas.

Nat was the first on her feet, practically racing out the door and not missing the fact a police officer entered looking completely distressed. The anxiety was nearly crippling, becoming numb as Nat threw open the doors of the Hard Deck—the others following behind, where they all froze at the sight of Mav and Rooster beside the police car in a state of agony.

Like they’d just witnessed someone die.

Nat felt the bile surface in her mouth, swallowing it with a loud gulp as she pointed an accusatory finger at the pilots, “What is that?” No one could miss the large dark red stains painting Mav’s white tee, Rooster’s Hawaiian shirt, their jeans and hands. If it even remotely belonged to them, they’d be hauling ass to the hospital.

But they weren’t injured. And it wasn’t their blood.

Nat made a pained sound, water lining her eyes at their reaction. Behind her Bob’s knees buckled, as did Fanboy’s and they lowered themselves to the ground. Hondo covered his mouth, Hangman grasped his hair while Coyote and Payback seemed to shake their heads like they didn’t want to accept the silent answer.

They were only missing two people.

“Bradshaw,” Nat hissed, anger now in her tone. She didn’t know why she was angry, but it was the first emotion she felt. “Who’s. blood. is. that?” She took a step with each word, still pointing at his stained shirt, daring Rooster to tell the truth. Deep down she wished it could be a lie, but alarm bells took over her entire body. “Tell me right now.”

Knowing Rooster was in no state to talk, Mav gently came in front of Phoenix, willing himself to stay composed. “There’s been an accident….Y-Y/n and Atlas are en route to UC San Diego,” he pauses to take a shaky breath, making Nat’s stomach plummet. “I won’t lie to you—to any of you. It-it doesn’t look good, o-okay. Rooster and I w-were coming around the corner and saw it happen—we think it was a drunk driver. They were struck head on. We got them o-out and stayed until the ambulance came.”

Now it made sense why a cop was at the bar. If it was a drunk driver who hit them, it was likely they came from the Hard Deck. Phoenix vaguely remembered seeing Penny take away a guy's key cause he was plastered. Never would she allow someone to drink at her bar and get behind the wheel.

Nat’s breath caught in her throat, tears slowly falling down her cheeks, “How bad, Mav? How bad is it?” Judging by his reaction, he didn’t want to say—a haunted look in his eyes. It only made Nat angry.

“How about we go to the hospital, okay? That way the doctors can tell us—.”

“Goddammit, Mav, she’s pregnant!” The only ones who didn’t react with absolute shock were Mav and Rooster, meaning Y/n had to have told them. She had to have been awake when they pulled her out. Her voice cracked again, “S-she’s pregnant. She was planning to tell everyone tonight,” she ended the sentence with a sob. “Oh God, don’t tell me they’re dead. N-No!”

Letting his own tears fall, Mav gently pulled Phoenix into a hug, careful not to let any of the blood stain her clothes. While the two were embraced, Hangman pleaded to Maverick, “Just please tell us right now they were alive when you pulled them out.” Rooster is the one to give the answer, finally speaking after staying silent for so long.

“Cloud passed out right when the ambulance pulled up,” he pauses to let them take it in…before giving the devastating news. “Atlas wasn’t breathing.”

“Oh my God,” Bob hurried to the trash can, feeling like he was about to spill his guts. Nat let out a muffled scream into Mav’s chest, already feeling the loss of her nephew. In tears Fanboy muttered, “Fuck,” as did Coyote. Hangman sank to his knees, while Hondo and Payback looked to the sky in a silent prayer.

“The paramedics were working to get it back,” Mav assured, but it was to no avail. “Let’s all go to the hospital and be there for them. That’s all we can do now.”

No one was in the right mind to drive themselves so Ubers were called. The whole way everyone was quiet or silently crying. Mav had the difficult job of calling Cyclone, who would in turn get in touch with Y/n’s commanding officer, who would then relay the news to her family.

Rooster couldn’t stop replaying the crash.

He’d just picked up Mav, the two catching up as they drove to the bar when they approached a red light in a four-way intersection. They would have turned left once they got the green light, so they waited patiently for it to change. Both had turned forward just in time to witness a silver Hyundai Sonata get completely rammed head on by a speeding black Ford truck as they were coming into the clear intersection. The force of the impact crushed their hood, pushing the poor little Sonata back until it spun away and rolled once over.

“Holy shit!” Without hesitation Rooster and Mav flung the doors of the Bronco open, racing to the Sonata as fast as they could. They could see gas spilling from the car, a tell tale sign it could explode given it was still running. The windshield was destroyed, the front bumper nonexistent. As Rooster used all his strength to get the driver’s door open, the two were met with a gruesome discovery when it finally opened to reveal the bloody and bruised face of their friend they were just minutes from seeing at the bar. “Oh—oh my God,” Bradley furiously worked to unbuckle her seatbelt, “Oh God, Cloud.”

The entire left side of Y/n’s face was covered in blood, spilling from the nasty contusion on her temple. Judging by the crack on the driver’s window they put it together her head collided with it. The other half they could make out pieces of glass from the windshield embedded into her skin. Burns from the airbag and seatbelt were visible on her neck. Her right arm was at a bad angle, so was her left leg which was being crushed due to the hood caving in. And that was only what they could initially see, not counting what internal injuries she sustained.

Coughing, which came out more like a wheeze because her chest was on fire, Y/n put all her energy into saying, “G-get him o-out. M-Mav-M-av…Atlas—get A-atlas out. Please.” The Captain cursed, remembering the boy was with her. The shock from discovering it was Cloud in the car made his entire being blank. Now adrenaline kicked in and he was rushing around the car to get the boy out. With the car running and gas spilling it could blow at any second. They needed to get them out fast and far away from the vehicle.

Rooster hated having to cause pain to Cloud, but her legs were broken and stuck so he had to do what was needed for her to have a chance at surviving. “Baby, put your arm around me okay—I’m gonna drag you out. It’s gonna hurt but I promise I’m gonna make it quick. On the count of three,” Weak and pushing herself to stay awake, Y/n put her good arm around Bradley’s neck, leaning into him when his own went under her thighs and around her back. A light scream escaped her followed by a choked gasp. Rooster apologized, “I know, I know, baby. I’m sorry. On the count of three, Cloud—okay, one…..two….three!” All his strength and adrenaline combined helped him get Y/n out of the vehicle, the woman screaming in his ear. He ran all the way to the Bronco, noticing more people had stopped to help. Some guys in flight suits were attending to the driver of the truck and another man was with Mav, taking a crowbar to open the door to Atlas.

Setting Y/n down as gently as he could, Rooster hurried to get his phone from the car, dialing 9-1-1 in a flash. Y/n was shaking from the pain, Rooster unable to imagine what she was going through. He took her hand in his, kneeling beside her as the operator answered, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“My-my friend and her son have been in an accident. They were crossing the intersection just off the freeway heading away from NAS Fallon. We’re about two miles from the Hard Deck bar,” Rooster looked up to find Maverick and the good samaritan dragging Atlas’ limp body toward them. “A black truck was speeding and crashed straight into them. I don’t know about the other driver—bu-but my friend and her son are badly hurt. We need an ambulance here immediately.” Y/n squeezed Rooster’s hand, gasping for air, causing him to look back at her. It broke his heart to see her so scared. “Help is coming, Cloud. Just hang in there.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Rooster’s stomach dropped at the sight of Maverick performing chest compressions on Atlas. “What’s happening, Mav?”

The teenager looked worse than his mother. Nearly unrecognizable by the injuries sustained to his face, The airbag no doubt broke his nose, glass coated his skin, both his legs were bent awkwardly, and a small piece of metal impaled his side. Then Mav gave a grim look, shaking his head, “he’s not breathing.”

“W-what?” Y/n wheezed, pulling Rooster’s attention again. She saw the blood drain from his face, the man pushing her cheek so she couldn’t view the scene behind him. “He—h-he’s not..breathing? Roo—.”

“Cloud, keep your eyes on me,” he gently cradled her cheek, not caring blood was getting all over him. Rooster didn’t want his friend to see the state of her son, especially when it wasn’t looking good for him. Y/n kept calling for Atlas, sobbing when he didn’t answer her. Rooster was having difficulty keeping composure, “Mav is with him—he won’t leave his side. I promise you. Just stay focused on me.”

“Is her son not breathing, sir?” the operator’s worried tone made him blink, forgetting he was on the phone with 9-1-1.

“N-no, no he’s not. My Godfather is currently doing CPR.”

“Paramedics are enroute, have him keep doing compressions until they take over.” Rooster relays the information, all while trying to calm Y/n as she starts to cry.

“My b-baby,” she groans as a new wave of excruciating pain consumes her body. “Roo—ba-baby.”

Thinking she was referring to Atlas, Bradley shushes her, “Your baby is right here, Y/n. Mav is with him—he’s not going anywhere.”

“C’mon kid,” he heard Mav grunt between compressions, “Stay with us. Breath, Atlas. Breath, kid, c’mon!” In the distance sirens could be heard.

“N-no!” Y/n cries suddenly, good hand going to her stomach at the feeling of her womb being torn to shreds, followed by the feeling of moisture in her underwear. Rooster saw the action, look of horror on his face as Y/n kept repeating, “Ba-by. My bab-y. It hurts. Roo it hu-rts.”

“Fuck,” he pulled the phone away, tears springing his eyes. “Oh God.” Hand shaking so bad, he didn’t know how he managed to bring the phone back to his mouth, “My friend just told me she’s pregnant and she’s having pain in her lower abdomen.” The sirens were getting louder, and Y/n’s eyes started to flutter causing Rooster to panic.

“Cloud, stay awake. Don’t close your eyes yet, the paramedics are almost here,” he lightly slapped her cheek, the pilot groaning.

“M-my head hur-urts, Roo. Ev-everything hurts,” Clouds good hand went to her temple, coating it in blood as she winced and shivered. “I feel…I feel tired Roo. My-my head hurts so bad.”

Rooster’s swallowed, holding back the tears threatening to fall. Words could not describe the agony consuming him that his friend, who likely just lost her baby, was dying and her son was too. “I-I know, baby. I know it hurts—but Y/n you gotta stay awake. You gotta stay strong for Atlas,” her eyes were still fluttering, but at the mention of her son she took in a choked breath. Rooster could tell she was fighting back the urge to fall asleep. “That’s it, Cloud. Just keep your eyes open. We’re gonna get you and Atlas to the hospital and you two are gonna be okay.”

As the ambulances pulled up, Rooster stayed by Y/n’s side while they worked to get Atlas on the stretcher. Mav came over to them when the paramedics took over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder while they encouraged her to stay awake. “It’s gonna be okay, Cloud. You guys are going to be in good hands.”

An oxygen mask was placed over Y/n’s nose, the EMT’s strapping her to the stretcher. Rooster continued to hold her hand until they were ready to place her in the ambulance, bending down to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead not covered by glass or blood. “We'll be right behind you, Cloud. We’re gonna go get the others and be right by your side.” The second Rooster finished his sentence, Y/n succumbed to exhaustion. Letting the sleep finally take over.

It unnerved Rooster and Maverick when she did lose consciousness, fear surfacing at the possibility she would never wake up. It lingered the entire time they were at the Hard Deck delivering the news and when they arrived at the hospital. By the time they arrived, Warlock and Cyclone were already there and the entire former detachment was escorted into a private room. Penny arrived roughly ten minutes later and the waiting game commenced.

In the corner Maverick was talking with the Admirals, Cyclone telling him, “I got in touch with her commanding officer. He’s on his way from Lemoore and her mother is on a flight to SAN and should be arriving around two-thirty close to three. I’ll send someone to pick her up and bring her straight here.”

Everyone was restless. It was pushing 10 pm and they hadn’t heard anything. They weren’t sure to see that as a good or bad thing. Jake and Javy were kind enough to bring coffee for everyone from the cafeteria, but hardly anyone smiled in thanks.

At around midnight the entire room stood from their seats when the doors opened, a doctor, a nurse, and a lady dressed in a suit. All three wore solemn expressions, enough to make Nat and Penny lose it right there while the Admirals dropped their heads, and the guys lost it after the heartbreaking news was announced.

“I’ve been told you all are here for Lieutenant Y/n L/n and her son Atlas on behalf of her family who are currently traveling from out of state. I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this. The boy was pronounced dead on arrival—the blood loss and the impact alone was too severe. In regards to Lieutenant L/n…we did everything we could, but the injury to her head was catastrophic. There’s no brain activity. I’m so sorry.”

Nat doesn’t remember screaming and collapsing into Rueben’s arms, the two sinking to the ground as she pleads it was a lie and her best friend and nephew were alive. “NO! No-no-nooo!!!” She rammed a first against paybacks chest, the man a complete mess as he let, “Oh God, please no—not them!” But she did.

Bob doesn’t remember sinking to his knees, letting out a broken sob as the doctor continued to say Y/n was on life support and they were awaiting her mother to sign off on pulling the plug. But he did.

Mickey doesn’t remember sliding down the wall, curling into a ball on the ground while silently praying it was all a dream. But he did.

Bradley doesn’t remember kicking a chair into a wall and throwing a cup of coffee against another, “Fuck!!” He just kept cursing. But he did.

Jake doesn’t remember asking about the driver who caused the accident and was pulled away by Maverick, Hondo and Coyote when he attempted to go after him after discovering he was alive and well, “that bastard gets to breath while Cloud and her kids are in the fucking ground!? Dammit let me go! He fucking deserves to be dead-not them!” But he did.

Three lives. Three lives were taken by a senseless tragedy. All because some idiot decided to steal back his keys when he knew he shouldn’t have been driving.

Y/n would never get to have her baby. Never would she be able to share the immense love like she had for Atlas with them.

Her baby, who they discovered was going to be a boy, would never live the life he was supposed to have.

And Atlas would never make it to his high school graduation. Never experience college or fall in love. His life was cut short at the young age of 17. The same age his mother was when she brought him into the world.

For hours they stayed at the hospital and grieved together until Y/n’s heart stopped beating. Her mother arrived, broken and in despair, signing the papers with shaky hands. While her mother remained in the room, holding Y/n’s hand, the squad and admirals plus Penny stayed outside. Nat, Jake, Maverick, Rooster, and Cyclone were the only ones to look through the window at Y/n’s sleeping figure. The others couldn't bring themselves to face the scene, but the door was open for them to hear the steady beep of her slowing heart until only silence was heard.

Using all her strength to be composed, Nat came into the room and stood beside Y/n’s bed. The others watched as she leaned down to kiss her bandaged forehead. Nat’s lips quivered, but she mustered the ability to whisper, “you’re safe now, Y/n, go be with them okay?” Nat stoked her best friends hair, “Atlas is waiting for you in the clouds. We’ll take it from here.”

The day of the funeral the sky was covered in gray clouds, a light drizzle pouring down and mixing with the tears of those in attendance. Three white caskets laid ahead; one draped with an American flag, another covered in black sharpie writing with farewell messages from classmates and friends, and the last smallest in size.

Friends and teammates of Atlas’ high school baseball team were his pallbearers. Y/n’s boyfriend, Maverick, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, Hangman, Payback, and Rooster carried her casket. And Nat, Halo, Y/n’s childhood best friend, and sister held the baby’s.

Y/n’s portrait of her in her Dress Whites stood in front of her casket, as did Atlas’ senior portrait in front of his. A lone teddy bear Y/n had picked out the day after discovering she was pregnant was placed on top of the tiny casket reserved for her unborn baby.

Nat held it together when it came time for her to pin Y/n’s wings into the casket, but the second she lifted her hand to salute as the guns fired off in the distance, the tears flowed at the sight of the sun breaking through the cloundbank. Earth’s atmosphere clearing to allow safe passage for the souls waiting to crossover at the right time. The rain seized, a rainbow in its wake as the clouds turned from gray to white before slowly dispersing into a clear blue sky.

A small smile formed on Phoenix’s lips, a weight lifting off her shoulders. She knew it was all going to be okay.

They were all together. In a place that was bigger than the whole sky.

………………..

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001

[baltears]

idk how else to describe this like i think the kind of traditionalist/hyperliteral read of buffy not catching feelings for spike until late s5/s6 just misses the level of iron grip buffy keeps on her feelings. apropos of nothing other than seeing this read one too many times and im not up on my buffy meta scholarship so forgive me if im making the same points everyone and their mother has been making for the past two decades

keeping tight control over her feelings is not something buffy started doing after a certain point, it's a behavior she has coming into the pilot bc we see that at that point there's already a level of emotional distance between her and joyce (not only re the slayer stuff and the later retconned-in betrayal & invalidation trauma from being thrown in an institution when she tried to tell her parents the truth, but also for instance the intensity of buffy's distress over the divorce). she already has a home life consisting of not voicing most of her difficult and 'close to the chest' emotions. when she tries to be genuine in a way that asks for space for her frustration or anger or more 'selfish' feelings, this is often not met with understanding (worth mentioning that giles does a MUCH better job on this than joyce for the most part, but other characters including willow and xander respond poorly a substantial number of times). as a result she is well practiced at suppressing emotions that are too inconvenient or complicated to feel acceptable to verbalize, so she tends to just kind of whistle past things that feel hard to tackle until she reaches a point where she can no longer bear to ignore them. this is a core part of her canon characterization that is also visible at many points in buffy's relationship with angel (s3 comes to mind, when she spends a good chunk of the season operating under the convenient belief that they're in a functional platonic friendship when she subconsciously knows they are still too hung up on each other for that to be feasible). so like we know this is something buffy does. it is not at all unusual for her to feel things that she keeps beneath her conscious awareness + does not allow herself to process and admit to having felt until well after the fact.

this takes me to the oft cited point that from the first time she interacts with spike, there is a different vibe happening than is typical for buffy and vamps. it just feels very obvious to me that from basically minute one (or maybe more accurately from their first fight, when she isn't so much on the back foot) she registers him on some level as a person who happens to be really interesting and hot, but has a fairly easy time of it keeping this feeling out of her conscious awareness bc 1) he's also an unsouled vamp, meaning she can choose to dismiss his personhood as nonexistent and his personality as mere performance or game-playing (ie he is not a 'real' person, therefore the relationship need not be acknowledged as 'real' either – taken to extremes in s6 when she has to actively abuse him and continually reaffirm his lack of humanity and lack of worth in order to sustain the self-told belief that she doesnt see or experience his personhood and doesnt feel a human connection with him), 2) they're mortal enemies, 3) he likes to be really annoying on purpose + as a vampire also has a baseline level of generally acting like a bit of a creep, and 4) for much of their relationship she has other romantic objects on whom she can more acceptably focus her attention (insert reference to spuffy being a queer coded relationship here).

i think this state of noticing-slash-not-noticing persists from 2.03 through s3&4 and into season 5. by then she is so good at studiously ignoring how weird and flirtatious and intense their dynamic has always been that the revelation that spike is now acting very obviously like hes in love with her, to the extent that someone else could notice, takes her totally by surprise. getting more specific idk how else one could possibly explain how her ass was acting in something blue pre-spell, like i absolutely canNOT see buffy behaving like that around any other vamp literally ever. they were both being so unceasingly annoying with their creepy little flirty back and forth that both giles and willow were completely over it and just wanted them to shut up and stop paying so much attention to each other. ig the point im getting at is i think it's weird and dont get it when ppl seem to read buffy's character as if shes basically just saying the things she feels and vice versa rather than like regularly and even habitually lying to herself, bc i just don't think that's in line with the character that we're shown. buffy SAYS for a very long time that she doesnt care about spike and basically says and does everything possible to deny that she has any attachment to him at all, but frankly i think the level of aggression and frequency with which she expresses variations on that sentiment in and of itself gives the lie to that idea. anyways i think she was down bad pretty much immediately and just took a very long time to let herself notice

[pathogenic]

could you chat a little about bioinformatics? And how you found yourself interested in it?

Idk anything about it but I’m curious 😅

Bioinformatics is basically what you get when you combine biology, computer science, and mathematics. It's using compsci to help digest and analyze large amounts of biological data to find useful information.

The field of genomics (which is basically studying genetics at a population level versus a personal level) is dependent upon bioinformatics to work due to the fact that most genomes are billions of basepairs long. A lot of the work I do is just on a virus by virus case, so it's a touch easier.

The main thing I've seen bioinformaticians like myself do is assemble genomes. Sequencers generate a lot of data and most operate by cutting genomes into small pieces, so someone has to put it back together so we can do anything with the genome. That's when we step in. It used to be a lot harder to do, you either had to build your own programs or know exactly what program to use and when.

When I was in college everything I did for bioinformatics was run off of command line, now I have a GUI system that automatically does a lot of the work for me. I don't know if I like it yet or not!

The way I fell into it though was that I was between degrees. I knew I didn't want a German degree anymore and I remembered liking genetics in high school, so I started with a gen biology degree. My advisor told me that a new degree opened up and I might be a good fit for it since my math scores were pretty high. We made the agreement that if I took a Comp Sci class and I did good, I'd help pilot the Bioinformatics degree at my college.

So I took the class and walked away with an A and realized I fuckin love programming like that, so I switched degrees and kept going with it. I ended up in a scholarship program to help poor and minority students get PhDs and did some actual labwork and applied my degree to study bacteriophages, which really cemented my love for my pafh here. At the end I gave my feedback on what was useful, what wasn't and then I graduated.

And then I worked health insurance for 2 years because of Covid. :V

But now I'm here and back in my field lol.