#rooster has a crisis

[spacewinter]

Ik it's probably been done a million times, but (if you're still taking prompts) I'd love to see your thoughts on the flyboys and/or the daggers finding out that IceMav are together. Like, a lot of the times it's portrayed that all the flyboys knew before IceMav told them, but what if they didn't? What if they were actually FANTASTIC at hiding that they're in a full-on, committed relationship? Or on the opposite end, all the Daggers suspecting IceMav are together, and finally getting confirmation, but in some hilarious way, like walking in on the two mid-makeout session?

As much as Bradley likes to make fun of his Uncles, they're smart and competent men who achieved great things. Sure, Mav may be a reckless idiot sometimes, but he didn't get where he is by being actually stupid. Iceman is a whole new level of brilliant, perfectly controlled and only showing what he wants to show.

They managed to keep their relationship secret from the Navy for years and years, and Bradley is yet to get out of them exactly how much time it took the class of '89 to figure out they're together.

Point is, Iceman and Maverick are good at hiding their relationship, passing their affections as close friendship and long years of knowing each other. They're subtle but smitten, and Bradley's heart skips a beat whenever he sees their smiles. It's cute, as much as two decorated Naval aviators can be cute.

He's reveling in the fact that he's the only one to really know, to see them being silly and in love. Ever since he and Mav reconciled, Bradley has been a frequent guest at their house, and he got to see that their love never weakened. Still, they only for better at hiding (probably out of habit).

This is why Hangman’s teasing remark comes as such a surprise.

They're discussing their plans for the weekend after a whole week of being cooped up doing paperwork. Bradley is ready to tear his hair out, and his friends aren't doing much better. The only one who seems unaffected is Hangman, but Rooster is used to it by now - the blonde is almost annoyingly cool and level-headed at all times.

"What are your plans, old man? Risking your life on a bike instead of a plane?" Payback teases, getting an elbow in the side from Fanboy.

Maverick finishes his beer and stands up with a smile. "Nah, I'm staying inside. An old friend is coming to visit, so no strenuous activities for me this weekend."

It's only because Rooster is so (unfortunately) attituned to Hangman that he hears what the man mutters under his breath.

"Oh, so getting railed by your hunky blonde lover ain't strenuous? I see how it is."

Bradley chokes on his drink, and Mav shoots him a concerned look before finally walking away after Rooster shakes his head. As soon as he calms down, he turns fo glare at Hangman.

"What did you say?" he hisses.

Hangman raises a slow eyebrow. "That...getting railed can be a strenuous activity? If you never took a lover that's on you, Roo, but my partners were always left exhausted."

He forcibly removes all thoughts of Hangman taking a lover (taking him maybe, all golden skin and sharp grins, strong hands on Rooster’s hips-). That's not the point now.

"How- No, I mean, how did you- Hunky?" Rooster ends up squealing. Other Daggers, the traitors, just look on in amusement.

"I mean, I'm not into older blondes but I have eyes, and Kazansky's still got it," Hangman drawls with a smirk. "He was a serious hunk in his younger years, I don't blame Mav."

"No kidding," Fanboy chimes in. "Even the frosted tips were hot, it's unfair."

"He was pretty climable," Coyote agrees. "And they gave that whole opposites attract going on."

Rooster listens as his friends talk about how hot Uncle Ice, the actual Admiral Kazansky used to be, and just tries to understand how he ended up here. Years, decades even without anyone realizing, only for the Daggers to click it immediately.

"Roo, you good?" Hangman asks suddenly, a warm hand on his shoulder snapping Bradley out of it. "Don't tell me you haven't realized. You fucking lived with them, for fuck's sake!"

Rooster takes offense. "Of course I realized! But no one ever did, so how did you-"

"Honestly, Bradshaw," the blonde mutters. "I have a pair of eyes and a working gaydar, it's not like it's hard."

"They're not being super subtle," Payback agrees. "But it's sorta cute."

"They've been going for decades, I bet, and they're still this disgusting," Hangman chuckles. "Makes you hope, ey?"

Rooster locks his gaze with Hangman's, and them immediately looks away when he feels himself blush. There's heavy implication in the man's voice, and he's not sure what to do with it yet. For now, he's too busy wondering if his uncles and the Navy are just that blind and stupid, or are the Daggers that observant and smart.

Neither option is attractive to consider.

Curiously enough, the Daggers don't bring it up with Maverick, but now that he's looking, Rooster can see their smirks and eye rolls whenever Mav smiles at his phone or blushes. Slowly, he has to admit defeat - maybe Mav and Ice aren't being as sneaky as they used to be.

It all comes to a head a few weeks later, when Mav invites them over for barbecue. Iceman isn't due to be back until Wednesday, and Rooster knows that Mav is feeling a bit lonely, which is why they're invited. The older pilot even invites them to an actual house, instead of the hangar, and Rooster had to admit it's not very subtle.

"Damn, this is nice," Payback whistles looking at the huge house. "Must be nice, being a kept man."

Phoenix elbows him in the side, but doesn't deny. "Well, the Admiral sure makes good money."

Rooster rolls his eyes, leading them to the door. He knows it's going to be open because Mav always keeps it open when he invites him over, and so he confidently walks in, the Daggers following after him. He's just about to call out for the older pilot, when a loud moan sounds in the house.

They all freeze.

Then, Hangman smirks like a cat that got the cream and firmly turns around. "Trust me, folks, you don't wanna take a glance at the couch," he whispers. He was the one closest to the entrance of the living room, and the only one with a good view. "I dunno about you, but I don't need to see our Captain getting his back blown out."

That breaks the tension and they spill outside, sniffling their laughter and leaning against each other. Rooster has experience with this, having caught his guardians foing at it multiple times, but it's much funnier with friends.

"My gaydar is never wrong," Hangman announces when they calm down. "Good for them, honestly."

"What, you also wanna rail a mouthy brunette into a couch?" Coyote asks with a shit-eating smirk, throwing an arm around Jake's shoulders.

The blonde shrugs and his eyes meet Rooster’s again.

"If he's willing."

When Maverick finally opens the door with a sheepish smile, Rooster ducks inside immediately if only to hide his furious blush. Hangman's laughter follows him through, and he almost walks into Iceman.

"Hi, Admiral, please say you disinfected the couch," Hangman says immediately, respectful but cheeky. "Or do we have to avoid it?"

Iceman is silent for a long while, before he bursts out laughing. He turns to his blushing husband and smirks.

"Mav, you didn't tell me your Daggers were worse than you."

It's a nice evening. They did disinfect the couch.

[roosterforme]

The Adventures of Dr. Tits | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Jake gives you the world's most obnoxious nickname. Bradley has an identity crisis. And you're the one making sure everybody gets home safely on New Year's Eve.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, suggestive language, drinking, beer pong

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist for the reading order

Bradley walked into the bedroom and froze as you were putting on your favorite pair of earrings. "What's wrong?" you asked, shaking your head at him. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"You look fucking hot."

"Oh," you said with a smirk.

"This is a new dress," he rasped, running his fingers along the black fabric at your shoulder. "I really like it."

You kissed his cheek and whispered. "I knew you would, Beer Boy. It has a very low neckline."

He scoffed, "That's not the only reason I like it." But his eyes hadn't strayed from your chest for nearly thirty seconds. When his gaze finally met yours, he added, "My wife looks beautiful in everything."

"We're not married yet," you reminded him as his hand skimmed down your arm to your left hand and your engagement ring. 

"Only because you didn't want to get married the day after I proposed."

"We were standing in a Denny's parking lot!"

He just shrugged and laced his fingers with yours. "Sounds perfect to me. As long as it's us."

"A Denny's parking lot," you emphasized, and you could tell he was trying not to smile at your look of indignation.

"Nothing's too good for my girl," he replied, barely concealing his laughter. 

"Incredible," you muttered as you tugged him closer for another kiss. "You can take the Beer Boy out of the fraternity..."

He followed along, fingers linked with yours, as you led him into the dining room so you could finish setting up. "Wait, wait, it's like mistletoe. We have to kiss when we stand here," he said, leaning down to kiss you hard and proper in front of the doors that said SUGAR WILL YOU MARRY ME?

"Like mistletoe? I can't believe how sweet you are," you whispered as his lips trailed down to your neck.

"Let's call everyone and cancel." His tone was coaxing and his lips felt amazing.

"No," you moaned softly. "It's your Top Gun holiday party. And it's New Year's Eve."

When his mustache grazed the top of your chest as he said, "I'd rather tell everyone else to beat it so I can fuck my fiancée," you almost caved. But you promised everyone months ago, when you first moved to San Diego, that you and Bradley would host the annual party. There was a running joke that they got so wild one year, they almost got kicked out of a restaurant. But there was no way that was true. 

"We have to host. I promised."

"This better be low key. Seriously, I just want a nice, quiet night in," he grumbled.

You laughed while he acted like he was being tortured as he helped you carry the pretty punch bowl and crystal glasses you found at a thrift store into the dining room. "Everyone will be gone right after the stroke of midnight," you promised him. "And I thought you liked your coworkers?" 

He grunted and shrugged. "No, I like Nat. Bob's okay. Jake's annoying. The rest of the guys are fine."

"Oh my god," you whispered in awe, wrapping him up in a hug. "You love me the most, and I'm the only person you're not cranky for, Beer Boy." 

He chuckled and pressed his lips to your temple. "You're just catching onto this now? Ten years away from you has made it so that I want to be with you all the time."

Okay, well now you were thinking about canceling after all. If he was going to be extra sweet like this, you wanted him all to yourself as well. But then you heard someone knocking on the front door. Before you let Bradley go, you said, "If you're well behaved tonight, we can talk about wedding plans tomorrow."

He perked right up. "I'll be so good."

"But it's still a firm no to the Denny's parking lot." 

When you let Nat inside, she gave you a hug and said, "Hey, nice tits," before carrying a bottle of champagne to Bradley. At least now he had his friend to talk to. And you really didn't think your dress was that low cut...

After another knock, you let Bob in, and as soon as he looked at you, he was blushing profusely and stuttering. "Welcome, Bob," you said, really starting to regret wearing this dress in front of anyone except Bradley. When you leaned out onto the porth, the neighborhood was all lit up with twinkle lights. This was your first December outside of Virginia or Chicago, and it was still fairly warm outside. As you propped the door open for the others, you didn't think you'd ever get used to this kind of luxury. You had warm weather and the love of your life.

Soon Javy, Mickey and Reuben arrived with three identical smiles as they looked at you and gave you lingering hugs. "Okay, yep, that's enough," you said as Mickey squeezed you extra tight.

"Hey, Baby! Sugar!" Bradley was calling from the kitchen as you followed the guys in. "Oh, there you are. Do we have any solo cups and ping pong balls? And didn't I buy a case of PBR?"

You just looked at him like he'd lost it. It was New Year's Eve, and you were in your new dress. You even made sure he actually looked nice tonight instead of wearing one of his ratty old tee shirts. You had champagne, and he made crab dip and mini quiches to serve everyone. 

"Maybe in the hall closet? And I'm pretty sure I talked you out of the case of Pabst Blue Ribbon," you said with a frown. "That's cheap fraternity beer, Bradley. We have actual incomes now. Only good beers all the time."

"That's okay," he told you with a quick kiss as he headed for the hall closet. "We can just play with the champagne!"

"What?" you asked, ready to follow him, but the guys had turned up the music. When you looked in the dining room Nat was moving your punch bowl to the floor in the corner, and Reuben was carrying four glasses precariously stacked up in each hand. "What's going on?"

"Rooster said he's a beer pong master," Javy said, before shoving three mini quiches into his mouth at one time. 

Reuben was laughing. "He said he used to party at his fraternity house, but we don't believe him. Not Rooster."

"No," Mickey added. "Rooster always follows the rules. Never breaks them. And he never gets drunk."

"We're playing fucking pong," Bradley said when he returned wearing a backwards cap and holding red solo cups and a pack of ping pong balls. Everyone cheered. "They don't believe I'm a ringer, Sugar," he whispered just to you. "I'm about to fucking smoke their asses."

"Don't get too drunk," you said as Nat took the solo cups and squatted down to fill them using the punch you made with extremely expensive champagne. "Oh god."

"Happy New Year," drawled a voice behind you, and you spun to see Jake holding two more bottles of champagne. His gaze dipped quickly down to your cleavage before returning innocently to your face. He shook his head and said, "You know, sometimes I think Bradshaw might be onto something here."

"I'm never wearing this dress again," you muttered as he handed you both bottles with a huge grin on his face. 

"Now where's everyone else?"

Just then, loud cheering erupted from the dining room, and you walked through the doorway to find Bradley and Javy playing against Bob and Mickey. Nat changed your playlist to one that sounded like it belonged at an actual frat party, and Reuben was scooping one of your crystal glasses into the crab dip and eating it with a spoon. 

"What the fuck?" you gasped. It was like you were back at the Beta Gamma house ten years ago as Bradley took his nice shirt off and tossed it onto the doorknob of the door that said MARRY.

"I'm about to kick your ass, and the dining room table isn't even regulation size," Bradley told Mickey as the WSO missed a shot. "Sugar, we need to look for a table that's regulation dimensions, okay Baby?" he shouted over P.I.M.P. by 50 Cent. He just kept sinking shot after shot into the cups, and Bob was already looking drunk.

So maybe they all really did almost get kicked out of that restaurant before? 

Jake was unbuttoning his shirt as well now as he said, "I have next game. There's no way Bradshaw can get this lucky all night long."

Bradley smirked and laughed as he looked at you. "I can, and I do, Hangman. Don't act like you haven't seen Sugar before."

Jake laughed, and the other guys cheered. You cradled your forehead in your hands as Bradley wolf whistled at you. "Jesus," you muttered, trying to decide if it was a good idea for you to get drunk yourself or if you needed to babysit the whole group.

"Why isn't your wife playing with you?" Nat shouted, and you contemplated closing the front door before your neighbors complained about the noise.

"We're not married yet!" you replied, but Bradley had his arms wrapped around you immediately. 

"Sorry, Baby. I got excited and just grabbed Javy. You know what they say about old habits, and I haven't played beer bong in years. You're my partner next, okay? Your boobs will help distract the opponents."

You gave in and started laughing, because this whole thing was ridiculous. You let Reuben serve you some crab dip in a crystal glass, and you ate it while everyone around you got progressively drunker on your champagne punch. 

Once Bradley and Javy handily won the matchup, he kicked Javy to the other side of the table to team up with Jake who was now completely shirtless. "You're up, Baby," Bradley said, reaching for you with so much excitement. "We're going to kick ass like we used to." His lips tasted faintly of champagne when he kissed you, and you were surprised. He was so good at this game, he rarely had to drink anything. 

"Winning team goes first," Jake said, rolling the balls across the table to you as Nat set freshly filled cups in front of you. Bradley arranged the cups perfectly like this was actually his profession instead of aviation. And you just stood there and laughed as he stepped behind you and helped you square your hips.

"Okay, now, you need to be awesome, Sugar. Just like college. Because I've got like street cred on the line here."

"I got you, Beer Boy," you promised him and he moaned softly in your ear.

"Remember, it's all just a math problem, and you're so fucking good at math." He released you with a little pat on your butt, and then he was peeling his sweaty undershirt off and tossing it aside before fixing his hat. As soon as you were able to stop laughing, you tossed the first ball with a perfect arc, and everyone in the room watched it splash into the solo cup right in front of Jake while Bradley whooped. 

"What did they teach you people in Virginia?" Jake asked, looking at you like he was thoroughly impressed. And then you watched Bradley toss his ball into one of the cups, and Javy groaned as he and Jake picked up their cups and drank. 

"Roll those balls back over here, boys. We made both of our shots, so we go again," Bradley said before he kissed you hard in front of his friends. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to marry you in that Denny's parking lot tomorrow?"

You were laughing as Nat, Reuben, Mickey and Bob all lined up on your side of the table to cheer you on with the crab dip. "Kick their asses! Jake and Javy are good at everything!" Nat shouted over Big Pimpin' by JAY-Z. You did a little dance and then tossed your ball directly into another cup.

"It's just math!" you said with a smile.

"It's math!" Bradley reiterated to Javy and Jake. "And I feel bad for the two of you, because she's a mathematician." Then he made his second toss, too. "And I lived in a fraternity house for three years."

Jake and Javy looked miserable as you chanted, "Chug, chug, chug!" until they emptied their cups. Then you made another absolutely beautiful throw, and Bradley didn't let you down. In fact, the two of you made every single cup, and Javy and Jake didn't even get a chance to throw a single ball.

"House rules! You drink our cups, too!" Bradley informed them, gesturing to the untouched solo cups lined up at your end of the table. 

"Get to it boys," you said as the others cheered. 

Bradley was all over you again as Javy coughed and sputtered as he tried to chug champagne. "I swear to god, Sugar, if we weren't already engaged, I'd propose right now," Bradley told you as you adjusted the cap on his head and ran your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath it. 

"I'd say yes again," you whispered just for him. "Who's ready to get their asses kicked next?" you asked everyone. 

You and Bradley cleaned up so handily, the two of you were barely buzzed, but everyone else was hammered by midnight. The front door was still wide open, and the TV was on as you waited for the countdown to the new year. Bradley popped a bottle of champagne just for you and he to sip as Nat sat on the floor right in front of the TV with the punch bowl on her lap. Most of the guys were lined up on the couches, but Jake came right over to you when he stumbled out of the bathroom. 

"I need to know how you did it," he slurred to Bradley as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pointed at your chest. "How did you manage to get Dr. Tits here? She's exquisite."

You sputtered as you laughed. "Did you just call me Dr. Tits?"

Jake leaned in close to your ear and laughed. "I'm sorry, but I can't even remember my own name right now, darlin'."

"Okay, Hangman," Bradley said as he handed you the bottle of champagne and pulled Jake off of you. "Clearly she has a thing for fuckboys. You can look, because she's smoking hot and it would be impossible not to, but you don't get to touch."

Well, you couldn't deny that. Jake winked at you as he sat down next to Nat before laying on the floor. Bob had the hiccups, Javy was asleep, Reuben was still eating the crab dip, and Mickey was running to the bathroom to throw up as the clock struck midnight. "I love you," Bradley promised before he kissed you sweetly. "And I think we should spend the day tomorrow laying on the couch and talking about getting married. What do you say, Dr. Tits?"

You pressed your lips together and then said, "Only Jake is allowed to call me that," as you erupted into laughter at the scandalized look on Bradley's face.

You kissed his cheek as he said, "I swear, just for that, it's Denny's or nothing, Sugar."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow," you replied laughing as you looked at the sloppy mess of Bradley's coworkers on all of your living room surfaces. "Now help me get all of them in Ubers so you can help me out of my dress."

"Oh, hell yes," he replied as he started clapping loudly. "Wake up guys. Rides are coming. Time for you to go so I can get lucky."

The two of you herded everyone outside and into the two cars when they showed up. "Night, Dr. Tits," Jake announced loudly to your entire quiet street as he kissed your cheek before Bradley shoved him into the waiting SUV. 

"Dr. Tits..." Reuben said with a laugh. "Sounds like a superhero who is very good at beer pong."

"She is a superhero. She puts up with Rooster's shit," Nat said as she climbed in behind Jake. 

"I think my sister went to Comic Con as Dr. Tits one year," Mickey said deliriously as Bradley helped him with his seatbelt. "The many adventures of Dr. Tits. She's my favorite Avenger."

Javy was already asleep on Bob as the cars pulled away, and Bradley scooped you up on the driveway and carried you back toward the porch. "You wanna go on an adventure with me, Sugar?"

You took his hat off and put it on your own head. "Are you talking about undressing me or marrying me right now?"

"Both," he replied easily as he kicked the front door closed behind you.

"Then yes."

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

Beer Boy and Sugar warm my cold, dead heart. Fuckboy Jake, drunk on champagne, also warms my heart. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right. The scalloped white one with gold rim it'll be.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please? This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby.”

Bradley feels the moment your body relaxes into him.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach, not wanted to disturb the magic in the domesticity.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as he two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks, a soft grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Caroline Bradshaw and Olivia Saylor Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[ohtobeleah]

Terms Of Endearment // Bradley Bradshaw

Series Masterlist

Summary: They always say when you aren’t looking for love it tends to find you. So when you and your daughter turn up in Fighter Town, Bradley Bradshaw is instantly infatuated. With reluctance to trust and harbouring a bad past, you don’t make it easy for the fighter pilot to love you.

Warnings: Will be allocated to appropriate chapters. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin x Platonic!F!Reader.

~ Terms of Endearment Main Masterlist Link ~

1. Matchmaker // Jake Seresin decides to take your love life into his own hands when an opportune moment falls into his lap.

2. Sunny Side // Rooster picks up your daughter from daycare.

3. Pillow Cases // After looking after your daughter for the afternoon, Rooster questions you about the pile of unwrapped Christmas presents in the closet. Your response? Something he’ll never forget.

4. Branded Father Figures // Bradley stays the night only to join in on a tradition Jake Seresin had been keeping a secret. Learning a few things about your past.

5. Christmas Crisis // Jake spends Christmas with his family and is told an ugly fact. Bradley spends Christmas Eve and morning with you and Dot—enjoying the calm before the storm.

6. The Calm Before The Storm // After Christmas lunch at Penny and Pete’s house, you and Bradley venture home. But don’t make it without a hitch.

7. The Clash // When Jaidyn Dolan moved to town Bradley Bradshaw gears up for the fight of his life. Having your back without question.

8. In Shades Of Terror // Things between you and Bradley and you and Jake reach a boiling point when Jake returns home, he finds himself spilling the beans about how him and Bradley knew about Jaidyn being in town.

9. To Build a Home // You’re finally approved for your own home through staff accommodation. But when you find out who your neighbour is you’re at a loss for words.

10. Biggest Stans // We see just how long Jake Seresin as been your biggest stand for and Bradley asked an all important question. If you’d consider moving in with him.

11. Trifecta // Jaidyn’s on a revenge driven path that’s only just the beginning.

12. Chase That Feeling // An unhinged Jaidyn causes chaos as Jake meets a woman who’s willing to put her front foot forward and Bob plays the hero card.

13. Dammed if you do, Dammed if you don’t // Jaidyn takes the games he playing to a whole knee level while Jake and Bradley do all that they can to get the higher ups involved.

14. Unlikely Savours // Jake and Bradley butt heads over what they need to do when Jake gets a call. Everyone’s racing against the clock, to find you and get to Dot.

15. Bringing in the reinforcements // Bob makes a call to someone he knows will be able to help and Amilia stalls Jaidyn to give Jake enough time to reach Dot.

16. It’s been a long, long day // Jake and Bradley reunite after having gone their separate ways. You need surgery and it’s not a good prognosis.

17. Not So Malice Intentions // When you wake up from surgery to find out Jake wants to keep Dot from seeing you for a first days, all hell breaks loose.

18. Cowboys & Apologists // When you wake up from being heavily sedated to a stranger but familiar man sitting in the corner of your room—you don’t take well to the carbon copy of Bob Floyd

19. It’s Personal // A week passes you by and you’re still in the hospital. You miss your daughters third birthday, Bradley goes in to bat for you against the Secretary of Defense and Jake has a run in with an intruder.

20. Yellow Polkadots // In the aftermath of Jakes unexpected intruder, decisions are made that bring you and your baby girl back together. Bradley struggles with a hard interior design decision & Jaidyn gets comfortable in his finale plot to end your happily ever after.

21. Heaven // (Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) Discharged from hospital after suffering severe injuries from a near fatal run in with your ex has you high strung and on edge. For good reason too, you should always trust your instincts because no one around you is safe from the chaos that transpires in our final two part finale.

~~ Complete ~~

Concepts & Blurbs

-> Marked // Jake sees the infamous cattle prod mark your ex left behind.

-> Bobby Bear // Robert Floyd left this world too soon. But does Odette see his ghost when she’s a little girl?

-> Lessons in Love & War // On one of your first shifts back at work after the events of ToE. Odette is plagued with an illness that sends her to the emergency room with a very panicked Bradley Bradshaw.

-> Bath-time // Bath time isn’t always an easy feat when your little girl is afraid of baths. But they do make for some core memories.

-> Tunder Storm Sleep Overs // With a heavily pregnant wife and a toddler afraid of a raging thunderstorm outside. Bradley kicks into his favourite mode. Dad mode.

-> Easter Time // You don’t have an Easter Bunny—you have an Easter Rooster.

-> The sex positive couple // You and Bradley are busy getting it on when your daughter wakes up from hearing noises in the night. Afraid you’re hurt she calls for you.

-> Baby R // Riley Carole Bradshaw makes her big entrance to the world when Jakes in Texas and Bradley isn’t sure if he’s ready to be a dad twice over.

-> The Eternal Mark // When at the Abbott Ranch for thanksgiving, the sound and sight of a cattle prod has you feeling like you’d been thrown back in time into the arms of the man who swore blind he was going to kill you.

-> From Tooster to Rooster // The first time Odette calls Bradley Rooster and not Tooster.

-> Dots Promise Ring // Odette forever keeps the promise ring Rooster gave to her as a child. But one day she throws it away.

-> The not so real dad dad // Young, dumb and oh so impressionable Odette Bradshaw freaks out after the police show up at a house party she snuck out to. Calling her uncle to come get her didn’t go according to plan.

-> Sticks & Stones // The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment. And the one you find out you weren’t the only one who kept parenting secrets.

-> Dots Pot // Bradley knows his oldest daughter smokes weed on the roof. I’m an attempt to stay hip with the youth he joins in—only to be left a paralytic on the couch. Outsmarted and out numbed.

-> Fruit of my loins // Odette Bradshaw is full of existential dilemmas about who she is and where she fits in. In an attempt to figure herself out, she goes to see the man who never wanted her in the first place.

-> Brother & Sister love // The dynamic between the Bradshaw siblings.

-> Uncle Jakes second wedding. // Jake has a no kids wedding and Odette isn’t too happy about the situation. Giving him one hell of an attitude about it.

-> Jake & Amilia // A glimpse into the fuck around that is Jake Seresins first marriage to a woman called Ellie who would never be Amilia.

-> Dot & Chase - The Dagger babies // Odette Bradshaw isn’t the easiest girl to get along with, and doesn’t Chase Fitch know that. -> Dot & Chase 2.0

-> What does Odette do for a living? What Nicky & What Riley Do for a living. The Bradshaw’s siblings go leaps and bounds in their respective careers. From soccer players to aviators to lawyers.

-> The Commanders Daughter // Odettes TopGun instructors.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

[accioprocrastination]

Another Bad Date

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader

A/N: I haven't proof read this so it's probably terrible but here's a fluffy meet cute.

Summary: Reader meets Rooster

The date starts worse than you were imagining... Tyler has already: ordered food for you, got you an alcohol free drink after you said you wanted a gin and tonic, commented on your figure and checked someone out across the room. You've not even been here 30 minutes and you need a reason to leave.

Excusing yourself to the ladies room, you take your bag to go text your best friend for help.

Scrolling quickly to find her name on WhatsApp you type your message:

I need an excuse to leave a date early

Phoenix is across town in the hard deck when her phone pings with the text message. Hangman comes up behind her to give her a beer but reads the text over her shoulder.

"Family member was in an accident; Friend is having a crisis; my ex just text me; I'm sick; I'm needed at work" he reels off his answers, placing the beer in her free hand. Phoenix gives him a look of disapproval in response.

"Don't read my texts Bagman!" She orders him.

"What does your friend look like, If she's hot I'll go be the crazy ex." Hangman winks at Phoenix.

"Absolutely not! It's Y/N, she's not your type and I'm not saving her from a shit date by pushing her in your direction." She states rolling her eyes as he smirks.

Nat this is urgent help me. You text again to chase up her answer, needing a response as soon as possible lest Tyler thinks you've got some form of gastrointestinal problem.

Sighing at her slow typing you exit the bathroom and collide straight into a tall brunette guy, dropping your phone in the process. "Shit, sorry." You instantly start apologising as he stabilises you, placing his hands on both of your shoulders.

"Are you good?" He asks moving his hands down your arms slightly, leaving goosebumps in their wake as you nod. "Yeah, are you?" You respond as he reaches down to grab your phone. He laughs slightly at your concern and says, "I'm bigger than I look, I think I can take it."

"You know Phoenix?" He queries, unable to stop himself looking at the screen as he hands your phone back over to you, enlarged on the contact photo of her from how you were holding it before you dropped it. "Yeah, I met Nat when she was in flight school. Guessing you're an aviator too?" You respond glancing him up and down to assess the outfit - not really something her associates would be caught dead in but he's toned and has got expensive sunglasses attached to his Hawaiian shirt so it's not completely out of the realm of possibilities.

He nods with a smile blossoming on his face. "Yes I am. I haven't seen you around before; I wouldn't forget that face." He remarks making you blush slightly.

"What do you do?" He asks unsure of whether you're in the Navy or know Phoenix through something else.

"I'm definitely not a pilot, as you can see I have zero hand eye coordination. I work for the government." You say with a giggle, not really telling him anything about your job.

"Ooh pretty and smart." He doesn't register himself thinking aloud until it is too late.

"What brings you to fighter town, this is literally the middle of nowhere." he remarks. You smirk slightly because he's right.

"Work asked me to come here for a bit... I live in Washington so not really used to having so little to do here." You comment.

"Do you want to get out of here and grab a drink?" He asks. You look between him and the table where your date is sat.

"Sorry if that's too forward, I haven't asked anyone out in ages... For all I know you're here with someone, there's no hard feelings if you say no." He waffles, nervous talking.

Your phone pings with a text presumably Nat responding to you.

"You're cute, I think I could make that happen." You say to the beautiful stranger whose name you're still unsure of.

You glance down at your phone to see a list of excuses signed off by Hangman. You roll your eyes having met and disliked Jake from the offset but his list gets so obscure by the end that you have to laugh.

"Boyfriend?" He raises an eyebrow, suddenly concerned that you are laughing at your phone.

"No but I am here with someone... I was literally just texting Nat for excuses to get out of the tinder date from hell, but it looks like Hangman has taken her phone judging by the unhinged message he just sent me." you explain the situation.

"He wants me to tell this guy that I've got to go because my fish drowned." you state in utter disbelief at Jake's list of excuses. The brunette chuckles across from you, and gives you such an animated smile that you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

"Give me two minutes to go let him down then we can leave." You state looking up from your phone and into his honey brown eyes.

"Okay, I'll go tell my friends that I am abandoning them then we can figure out where to go?" He questions raising his eyebrows. You nod in agreement and temporarily part ways.

*

Tyler has a momentary meltdown at you saying this is not going to work out and decides to start shouting at you from across the table. Bradley is back by your side in under a minute backing you up.

Once he's spoke Tyler down he grabs your hand and pulls your out of the restaurant.

"Thank you." You say squeezing his hand.

"No need to thank me, that guy was an asshole." he says making me smile slightly.

"Maybe if I went with the fish excuse he wouldn't have been so pissy." You mutter making him giggle.

Your phone pings with another text, Hangman still clearly has Nat's phone and has sent you a photo of your best friend head down on a bar. You smile at the photo, knowing he's gentleman enough to take her home and make sure she's okay.

You turns the phone around so Mr Hawaiian shirt can see what you're giggling at. "Ooh that looks messy! Thank god we don't have an early start tomorrow" He says sarcastically.

You're so glad that you don't have to deal with their kind of early starts... Morning people are unhinged.

"Do you want to go to the hard deck and meet up with them or should we go get food?" you ask him.

"Definitely food!!" He responds excitedly jumping.

"Great that's the right answer! Where's good around here?" you look to him for an answer. He looks around thinking for a minute.

"Nowhere in our immediately vicinity stands out but there's a really good place like 30 minutes away, they make a mean Hamburger." He exclaims.

You nod, "That sounds perfect, lead the way!"

"Whose car are we going in?" He asks me.

"I walked here from my hotel, so yours." I answer. I'm not afraid he's going to kill me because he just saved by life from my incel of a date who seemingly hates women, and I can see his dogtags under his shirt, so I know he's telling the truth about knowing Phoenix. That instantly put me at ease because she is an amazing judge of character.

"Where were you from before Washington, you sound English?" Bradshaw remarks.

"Yeah, I grew up over there in a tiny town in the Midlands... I moved here after uni." you answer.

"What did you study?" He asks walking alongside you to wherever he's parked.

"Pol sci and international relations." You respond.

You two mindlessly talk about your lives and what got you into your careers as you continue to walk to his car.

After what feels like twenty minutes of walking you stop and turn towards him. "Are you really shite at parking or something?" you question with a smirk held on your face.

He starts laughing.

"I got a lift here, I'm parked at my place." He responds grinning ear to ear. "It's just around the corner." He adds as you give him a look of disbelief.

You're watching him intently as you round the corner, noticing the sudden purpose in his step as he walks towards not a car but the front door to his apartment.

"I feel like I was warned about stranger danger." You say meeting his eye as you cross the threshold. The corner of his mouth lifts slightly into a smirk.

"You also agreed a burger in a place thirty minutes away was a good idea, so welcome to the only place that's good around here." He says leading you into his kitchen.

"Ah... Very smooth." You say as he swings open a cupboard door and raises two bottles in what you presumed was going to be a silent question: wine or gin.

"I can offer you some uncomfortably warm wine or gin... but I'm not sure if I have tonic?" he says raising his eyebrows, tone of voice implying he's asking you if he has tonic water somewhere.

"Wow, I can see why this is your favourite place around here. I bet the reviews are glowing." You tease him. Bradley doesn't verbalise the butterflies that break out in his stomach in response to your wink.

He laughs about to feel guilty for bringing you back here to his limited drinks options when he opens a different cupboard and pulls out a single can of tonic.

"Ah there we go - one of us can enjoy our evening." He says making you giggle.

He raises both again at your lack of a definitive answer.

"I want the gin but I feel bad that you only have one tiny tonic water... If you want that I'm good to go on the warm wine front." You respond and he gives you an unreadable look that you don't recognise.

"What was that look?" You whisper feeling oddly nervous at how good looking this man is.

"What look?" He whispers back, the look no longer visible on his face. His eyes are squinting, laughter lines visible on his face as he stares back at you full of a giddy playful energy.

You watch in silent amazement as he pours your drink without breaking your eye contact. You know without tonight going any further, without even knowing his name - this is not a one time thing.

[reiverreturns]

can’t stop thinking about the fact that phoenix, as a female character, is not once used as a emotional wayfinder for rooster or the audience. i’m not yet over how damn COMPELLING it is as a facet of her character.

so phoenix is presented from the off as someone with an obvious close connection with rooster, and through her perspective we see bits of their history - deadpanning him when she nails him with the pool cue because he didn’t tell her he was stateside (and she’s not angry or disappointed, she clearly didn’t expect him to); how she gets out of the way for rooster and hangman to face off (she’s knows what’s coming but also that it’s not her fight); the way her face lights up when rooster sits at the piano (because she knows him well enough to know what makes him happy and how he expresses it). 

these moments all tell us things about phoenix and rooster’s friendship, but none of it serves to solve rooster’s problems or help him work through his emotions. phoenix never steps into that role. you could argue she gets close when rooster admits to her that mav pulled his papers, but even then phoenix doesn’t sympathise or validate rooster’s anger. she pauses, considers, and only asks “why would he do that?” - the one question rooster should be asking but doesn’t, the one his anger’s been pushing him away from for years.

and i just love that. phoenix isn’t there as a character to serve others, she isn’t a woman that exists to push forward the arc of a male protagonist. she’s there as the architect of the web that pulls all of these pilots and their shared histories together. she’s there to show how friendships can be deep and sustained and caring without being emotionally crippling. she’s there to show that knowing a person isn’t the same as understanding them. she doesn’t know rooster fully, but kneeling on the tarmac she understands him better than anyone in the world.

to illustrate my point by comparison, think about penny. to mav she’s a reminder of the past (one he’s constantly wrestling with because he can’t forgive himself for what’s happened, whether he’s earned the blame or not.) she steers him back towards what’s important and inspires his action when he has a crisis of confidence after cyclone pulls him out of the programme. the grand goodbye before mav goes on the mission in his dress whites with the cavernous black sea behind them is the cinematic equivalent of holding up a sign to the audience that says ‘you should be sad and worried! this little man’s in danger! hope you left room for catharsis after dinner.’

now i’m not saying one is better than the other (i stan penny and will hear nothing bad about her.) both characters serve purposes in the narrative that progress the plot. all i am saying is that it would have been so easy for the writers to write phoenix as that feminine emotional touchpoint for rooster and the audience. they could have inserted a scene after rooster and hangman’s fight where rooster starts to sift through his complex emotions about mav and his dad with her. they could have had a shot of her flying back looking distraught after rooster goes back for mav. what they did instead; in making her the connective glue of the group, using her to colour in their unseen past relationships and dynamics; is force rooster’s arc to come from within. and i’m telling you, the entire freaking movie is stronger for it.

so yeah. i really love phoenix. can you tell?

[beezelarts]

Comment on this post by @munchariffic:

Honestly, I feel like Hangman is both. To me, Rooster screams "instructor, retirement, instructor for civilian pilots or smth (+ dad of 2-3 kids an a dog)".

Like, Hangman entering a room in his fifties or so:

"Holy shit, that's Admiral Seresin!"

"Doesn't he have, like, three air-to-air kills?"

"Yes, he's a legend."

(And yes, I don't think that Hangster would be Bradshaw-Seresin, but I also believe that they'd still be referred to as Admiral Seresin and Captain Bradshaw.)

They'd both be legends, no doubt, but to me, it always felt like Bradley became an aviator because of his dad and Mav (at least partially) and because he, for some reason believed that this was the only way to make them proud.

People always told him that he was so much like his father, so he started to dress like him and style himself to make other people - who knew and liked Goose - like him.

I also think that when he and Mav reconnected after TGM, he started to realize that Mav somehow saw Goose in him and not Bradley. Bradley, therefore, felt inclined to act like his father and not as himself in front of Mav until he realized that he is, in fact, his own person.

What follows is a short crisis in which he has to work through in order to decide who he really is based on his own personality and not on what other people told him about Goose.

God, this is a long ass post and maybe an unpopular opinion.

Comment and tell me your thoughts!

[sunlightmurdock]

Is there one time that Ice does walk in on Lil Kazansky and Rooster or is it just all close calls?

Oh no, there’s definitely a time when Ice gets back from a particularly long work trip, right before he’s retired for good — and decides to pay his youngest daughter and her new husband a visit right from the airport.

What he isn’t expecting is to see the pair of you, each wrapped in only a pair of fluffy white towels. Bradley’s got you lifted into the air, your legs around his waist and his tongue in your mouth. Neither one of you hear the door open, until Ice makes a sound of immediate horror.

Bradley’s the first to notice, his cock hard and tenting the towel, luckily covered but unfortunately covered by your ass resting against it. He turns his head and briefly looks your father in the eye. They both turn their heads so that neither one of them has to look at each other.

“What the fuck—“ Bradley almost drops you, still half slippery from fucking you against the shower tile five minutes ago. He’s torn between catching you again and being stuck with you still naked and in his arms or putting you down and making a run for it.

“Dad! We agreed! The key is for emergencies only!” You’re fighting to untangle yourself from Bradley and keep the towel secured around your body. Your father’s eyes are already closed and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, backing away from you.

“I — yeah. That’s a good rule,” Ice mutters dejectedly as he fumbles blindly for the door handle again. He tears it open and rushes backwards out. “Give me a call. Whenever. Bye.”

Bradley doubles over and exhales deeply as the door swings shut again, running a hand over his face. You reach out and stroke through his curls.

“I can’t believe your dad just saw that.” He groans out, wincing at the idea of looking his boss in the eye again on Monday morning.

“I’m sorry about him,” You trail your fingers up along the ridges in Bradley’s bicep, over his thick shoulder. The look in your eye is outright devilish as he straightens up again. He watches as you reach out and hook a dainty index finger into the fold of the towel around his hips. “Can I make it up to you?”

He leans his head back and sighs, then remembers to look to the left. If he cranes his neck, he can see out onto the street. He grabs your hand, pausing you until your father’s mid-life crisis sports car has sped off down the street.

“Yeah,” He breathes out finally, swallowing as you sink to your knees in front of him. “You and your family are going to be the death of me. You know that, right?”

You tug the towel and it falls to his feet compliantly. He hums as you lean forwards and kiss the underside of his cock, letting it rest, thick and hard against your plush lips. “Aren’t I worth it, though?”

Closing his eyes and knowing that you’re right, Bradley just groans as he trails his fingers over your scalp, grabbing a fistful of your roots.

[nolita-fairytale]

call sign: tennessee whiskey | rooster x fem!reader & hangman x phoenix | chapter nine

summary: you spend one last night at the hard deck before the remaining daggers go their separate ways. jake and nat finally talk, and rooster introduces you to maverick as his father-figure -- not just your captain.

warnings: fluff, minor angst, suggestive language, swearing, mentions of death, military & aircraft carrier inaccuracies, second person pov

wc: 5.3k

listen to: she's gone - hall & oates | the playlist

a/n: how appropriate that i would finish this story during mdw. anyways, this is the final chapter for this story with so much more to come! thank you to all who have read, liked, reblogged, and shared your thoughts. it really inspires me and makes me happy to hear that others are just as excited about these characters and story as i am. while it's the end of the series, i have a longer oneshot coming up that checks in with these guys in about a year and a half, a rooster x whiskey christmastime oneshot, and... well we'll go from there.

chapter eight | masterlist

“Eject! Eject! Eject!” 

Phoenix can hear the voices screaming in her ear as she finally gives up on saving the plane. 

Only she can’t eject. 

And neither can Bob. 

“Phoenix, it’s not working!” Bob shouts over the radio. 

“Hang on, Bob! I’m going to try again,” she yells back. “I’m gonna get us out of here. I’m gonna get you home, Bob.”

But it’s too late and the plane begins to spiral. It doesn’t matter what she does. She’s lost control and the plane is on fire, falling out of the sky, taking them both down with it.

“Phoenix, what do we do?” Bob asks, a panic in his voice. 

Before she can answer, she feels the jarring sensation of the plane crashing against a mountain before it spirals into the Pacific Ocean, jolting her awake. She swears under her breath, realizing that she’s no longer in her F/A-18 but in the California king of the hotel room that Hangman somehow sweet-talked her into. 

“Doesn’t have to mean anything, darlin’. Just think we deserve to get out of the barracks. Sleep in a real bed,” he’d persuaded her, making a perfectly reasonable case for her to accept, considering she’s nothing if not logical.

But she shoves the memory of Jake’s proposition aside as her mind reels back to her nightmare. Her heart is pounding loudly in her ears and she feels dizzy as she reaches up to place a hand on her chest.

It was just a dream, she reminds herself.

A nightmare. 

She runs a hand through her hair, finding it to be damp with sweat as she sits up in bed, her heart still thudding loudly. Hangman stirs next to her in bed, one his hands moving across the sheets, reaching for her. 

“Nat, you okay?” he murmurs, blinking his eyes open. He turns to her, awake now, and he recognizes the all-too-familiar look on her face. “Nightmare?”

“How did you know?” she asks, her voice quiet. 

“Because I get them too,” he answers, honestly. Hangman sits up in bed, bringing a hand up to rub her back. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” she answers curtly, flinching as he touches her. 

She doesn’t mean to reject him, but she’s still a little jumpy from the nightmare. 

Jake sighs in response, feeling how sweaty she is underneath his UT t-shirt. The comforting, tender touch of his hand should be calming, but it only alarms her even more. She can’t stand the idea of being fragile and certainly has mixed feelings about Hangman being the one to soothe her in her moment of crisis. 

“I think I just-, I’m just gonna get up. Splash some cold water on my face and change,” she murmurs, sliding sideways off of the bed so that she can get as far away from this feeling as possible. Jake opens his mouth to say something, but she’s halfway across the room before he can. 

She heads into the bathroom, flicking one of the lights on. The harsh light of the bathroom helps bring her back to reality, and Natasha takes a moment to press her back against the wall. The cold and rigid plane of the wall is grounding, so she closes her eyes for a second, allowing her body to relax against it. After a few moments, she pushes herself off the wall, moving to turn on the cold tap water. 

With two hands braced against the bathroom sink, she examines her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is messy from tossing and turning, pieces stuck together with sweat. She pushes her out of her face, tying it up into a bun with the hair tie around her wrist in an effort to provide herself some structure. 

“Get it together, Trace,” she whispers to herself, focusing intensely on the sound of the running water. 

She splashes cold water on her face, before using one of the plush hotel room towels to dry off. The last thing she needs to do is get out of this sweaty t-shirt, stripping off Jake’s old tee and tossing it to the floor behind. 

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, she reminds herself, as she reenters the bedroom, flicking off the bathroom light behind her.

Jake’s still awake, sitting up in bed in all of his shirtless glory when Natasha returns. Her eyes are glued to the floor, searching for another shirt using just the peripheral moonlight to guide her. She wraps her fingers around the button down Jake had worn to dinner the night before, sliding it over her body. 

“Woah,” Jake marvels, running a hand through his messy blonde locks. 

“I’m not fucking you right now, Bagman,” she grumbles, her feet carrying across the room. 

“Didn’t mean it like that,” he replies, unable to hide the irritation in his voice at her assumption. 

He can tell she’s shut down, so he’s not going to push back, and he’s sure the last thing that she wants to hear right now is how breathtakingly beautiful he finds her. Nope, definitely not going to be helpful. Natasha pulls the covers from her side of the bed back, realizing her side of the bed is still damp with sweat from her nightmare.

“C’mere,” he encourages, his voice low as he scoots over so that she can fit on his side. “Plenty of room over here.”

Thank God for the California King.

Instead of putting up a fight like he expects her to, she only nods. Hangman pulls her into his arms, scooting the both of them over, and allowing her to settle in. 

He’d be lying if he said this didn’t feel good. 

It feels too good. 

He likes being this guy, and he likes being this guy for her. 

He likes it too much, maybe.

Jake waits a beat before speaking again, asking again, “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Yeah,” she manages to get out, barely above a whisper. 

He knows he can’t push her – knows her well enough to know that’d never work – knows this, PTSD, well enough to know she’s going to have to reach out on her own time. But he wants her to know that he’ll be there for her if she wants him to be.

“It doesn’t have to be me, Nat… but you should talk to someone about it. I-, it helps me… to talk to someone,” he drags out, cautiously. 

He braces himself for her response, but is pleasantly surprised to hear she sounds more like herself as she dryly quips in response:

“Don’t tell me the great Hangman sees a therapist.”

She’s not expecting the answer he returns with.

“I did for a while, yeah” he admits, taking a more serious approach. “And Coyote and Whiskey too… They’ve been good to me too. They’re good friends. Good listeners.”

“Can’t imagine you being a good listener,” she teases, and he can tell that she needs to pick on him just a little. 

Just a little. Just something to feel like herself. 

He chuckles and she can feel the low rumble of the sound resonating in his chest as she rests against him. 

“Like I said. Doesn’t have to be me.”

“Yeah,” she half-heartedly agrees, as she feels him pull her closer. 

“Anything I can do?” he asks, softly, his voice so gentle it startles her. 

Phoenix is just surprised, is all. By Hangman.

By his kindness. 

By his generosity. 

She knows she has a long road ahead – that the bird strike had changed things – but the least she can do is not be a dick to Jake when he’s trying his damndest to be helpful. 

She shakes her head, “No, I-. No. But thank you.”

“Just tryin’ to get in your pants, Trace,” Hangman jokes, earning a small laugh from her. 

But she knows it’s more than that. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Bagman,” she fires back, beginning to close her eyes. 

He thinks it may be inappropriate to say – like he’d be taking advantage of her in a vulnerable state if he admitted it now – so he doesn’t, but the words echo in his head as he closes his eyes in an attempt to drift off to sleep. 

You. You help me sleep at night.

*

“Anything to drink?” the waitress asks, looking from Bradley to Maverick as they wait for you. 

You were running late. Of course. 

“Uh.. just coffee. And keep it comin’, thanks,” Maverick requests, a polite smile on his face. 

“Why don’t you come check out the hangar? I’m packing it up… been looking for a place here. I’ve got some planes I’m workin’ on. Think you’ll find ‘em interesting,” Maverick offers over his first sip of coffee. 

“Yeah, that sounds great!” Bradley agrees, wondering if he sounds a little too eager to bond with his previously-estranged-father-figure. 

Maverick watches carefully as Rooster doctors up his coffee, a few creams and one sugar, before using his spoon to stir. 

“Leave early tomorrow morning?” 

“Sure.”

Maverick takes a beat. He wonders for a second what the hell he’s supposed to talk about with the kid. Sure, they’ve spent the last three weeks together, but they’ve been buried in training and things left unsaid. Now that the mission is over he’s not sure where to begin with the kid. 

“So you and Whiskey…” he trails off, figuring he might as well start with why Rooster asked him to meet for breakfast in the first place. “I put two and two together when I saw the two of you on the carrier.”

Bradley blushes, “You saw that, sir?”

“It was uh.. Hard not to,” Maverick answers, half-apologetically. 

“Right, yeah, I uh… thought you guys should meet. Not as captain and lieutenant but as uh… you know…” Rooster trails off, nervously, a warm blush running across his cheeks. 

“As… something that may involve… paperwork?” Maverick asks, hoping to fill in some blanks for Rooster. He shoots the kid a reassuring smile in an attempt to put him at ease. 

Maverick can see the pure adoration and happiness in Rooster’s eyes when he answers with, “Think so, Mav. We can talk more about it at the hangar. If you want.”

Maverick nods, mentioning a quick ‘sure’ before they’re interrupted by your arrival. He watches as Rooster’s eyes light up, and he’s not sure he’s seen Rooster like this… ever. Then again, he knows he’s missed a few years too.

“Hey. Sorry, catching up with my Dad and lost track of time,” you apologize as you slide into the booth next to Bradley. He gives you a soft kiss on the cheek as you’re all smiles, the two of you sitting across from the captain. 

“Don’t worry about it. ‘S given us some time to catch up,” Maverick smiles. “Coffee?”

“Please,” you answer as you begin settling in. 

Rooster gives your leg a squeeze underneath the table. He can tell you’re nervous. You’ve obviously met Maverick before, but that was as your captain. 

“Thank you, Captain Mitchell,” you say, formally, as he pours coffee from the carafe into your mug. 

“Here, uh… you can call me Pete,” he replies, a friendlier tone in his voice. “But tomorrow, at 0800 sharp, it’s back to Captain Mitchell… or at least, Maverick.”

“Yes, sir,” you agree with a nod and chuckle. 

It’s an honor, really, you think to yourself, as you lift your coffee mug to your lips, taking a first sip. 

“Well then, Pete,” you begin, making conversation. “I’m still dying to hear that story you never told us from class. From your last Afghanistan deployment.”

As Maverick grins, more than happy to share stories of his exploits, there’s a warmth that spreads inside of Rooster’s chest. He watches gleefully as you and Maverick talk, Maverick busy telling his elaborate tale as you listen attentively. He grows even quieter as the two of you debate pancakes over waffles, his heart swelling as he realizes what’s happening. After years of being alone – of being lonely – Rooster realizes that he just might have people now.

*

As you enter the Hard Deck this evening, everything feels different. It feels like an ending of sorts. Even though you’ll return in a few weeks for another Dagger mission, Bradley won’t be here. And neither will Jake. Or Natasha. 

And you’re still processing just how much has changed in the last three weeks.

“You still want to do this?” Rooster asks, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“Yes,” you answer, confidently. 

You lead him to the pool table that your friends are all crowded around, drinking beers, shootin’ the shit. Nat grins as she spots the two of you – holding hands, no less – and you reach out, tapping Coyote on the shoulder. 

“Hey, I want to introduce you to someone,” you say, a sly look on your face as Coyote turns around. His face goes from happy to see you to confused in under two seconds, looking from you to Rooster once more. 

“I don’t get it. We already know Rooster,” Coyote states.

“I know,” you answer, shooting Nat a cheeky grin across the pool table. “... But you don’t know him as my boyfriend!”

“Oh my god!” she squeals, practically jumping over the pool table towards the two of you for a hug.

“Oh noooooo,” Jake groans, sitting up from the barstool he was previously perched on. 

You catch his gaze as Phoenix drags both you and Rooster into the tightest group hug, watching as Jake approaches cautiously. While Nat is more than overjoyed to hear the news, Jake waits, his stance steady as he watches the celebration. As much as he’s pretending not to be, the look in his eyes gives him away, and you know your best friend is genuinely happy for you. 

Bob rolls his eyes playfully as soon as he realizes what’s going on. 

“You guys are so cheesy,” Bob scoffs, flicking another peanut shell into the empty cup. 

“I’ll cheers to that,” Jake says, raising his near-empty beer bottle in Bob’s direction. “Ah shit. Anyone need another round?”

“A first round for the happy couple, please, Hangman,” Nat orders, gesturing towards both you and Rooster. 

“Sure,” he mutters, keeping up his charade of disapproving-annoying-older-brother.

While he may think he’s thrown you off his trail, you can still sense the tension between both Jake and Natasha. It’s not exactly subtle, and you wonder if they’ve had a chance to talk about what happens when you all leave yet. 

“You got plans for leave, Coyote?” Rooster asks, in an effort to make conversation. 

“Yeah,” Javy sighs in response. “Headin’ back up to Lemoore tomorrow. Gotta break it to the Mrs. that I got back to back deployments. Can’t believe you two are crazy enough to do the whole dual military thing.”

You and Rooster exchange glances with a laugh before Rooster excuses himself to offer Hangman a hand with the beers. 

“Maybe Helll really has frozen over,” Nat comments, joining the conversation as she watches Jake hand Bradley two of the four beer bottles.

“They’re… civil… chummy, even,” you add, watching the interaction carefully.

“It’s weird,” Coyote says, shaking his head. “Like a harbinger of doom.”

“It’s disturbing is what it is!” Bob declares loudly, earning a laugh from all of you. 

You watch as Jake leans in, muttering something to Rooster, and slapping him on the back before grabbing the other two beers. 

“You take care of her. And don’t fuck this up, Rooster.”

The two head in your direction, and you’re sure that Nat is right: Hell must’ve frozen over during the uranium plant bombing. 

The rest of the night is filled with drinks, rounds of pool, darts, and is certainly not complete without a few rounds of Rooster on the piano. After his grand finale of “Great Balls of Fire,” it hits Natasha that this is all coming to an end: her time at TOPGUN for a while, the singalongs, and most likely, whatever this thing is with Jake. 

It hits her as she watches him pull you onto his lap, playing something instrumental. It’s the look in his eyes and the way you look at him in return. 

Her and Jake were no you and Rooster. 

She’s happy for you guys. Of course, she’s happy for you guys. Hell, she’d been the one to parent trap the two of you in the first place! But tonight had been a glaring reminder that she still wasn’t ready. 

For someone so fearless and action-oriented in an F/A-18, the don’t think-just do mentality isn’t something she’s figured out how to apply to her life. She’s got too much to do. Too many aspirations that don’t include having a partner. Too many many thoughts of how having one would hold her back. 

She entertains the thought for a second that maybe it’s her specific bedfellow. The fact that it’s Hangman. Jake. 

But she knows it’s not. 

It’s not about Jake. 

Natasha excuses herself from her conversation with Bob, before going in search of some fresh air. She hates what she has to do and wonders if it was worth it all to get involved with Hangman in the first place. As her mind reels, her feet take her further away from the Hard Deck and out onto the beach, wondering when the hell she started to care about Hangman’s feelings. 

With the sand beneath her feet and the sounds of the ocean in the background, Natasha finds a good place to sit. Wearing a pullover sweater that was maybe Coyote’s, she curls up, hugging her knees into her chest as she watches the waves crash ashore. 

It’s not long before she hears footsteps behind her followed by a familiar Texas drawl. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she replies, turning her head to confirm that Hangman’s followed her out here.

“Mind if I sit?” Hangman asks, hesitantly, still standing behind her. 

“Go ahead,” she exhales, patting a spot on the sand next to her. 

Jake knows what’s coming. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. He lets out a heavy sigh as he sits down next to her, so that they’re sitting side by side. He steals a glance her way as he works up the courage to have the conversation they’ve both been avoiding. 

“Nat, I-,” he starts. 

“Jake, please don’t…” she warns, a fragility in her voice that surprises her. “Don’t… say the thing you’re going to say.”

A pang of disappointment finds itself in his belly. He swears under his breath, then swallows as he waits a beat. 

He knows she’s scared. He’s pretty freaked out too. He’s not sure if either of them knew what they’d be getting into when they hooked up on the carrier. Jake could feel it last night – that something shifted – and he can feel that they’ve come to different conclusions on what comes next. 

“Trace…” he trails off, his voice steady. 

“I’m not ready,” she states, her voice sure. “I wish I was… but I’m not.”

Three words. 

Three little words that had been nagging him all weekend.  

She’s not ready.

The three words he could feel in his bones, but he’d pushed them to the back of his mind, not ready to acknowledge the truth. 

He takes another beat, because hearing them feels different than feeling them. 

“I know,”  he finally says, in acceptance. 

Nat sighs disappointedly, turning her head to look at Jake once again with an apologetic look in his eyes. She opens her mouth to say ‘sorry,’ but she’s also not sure if that’s the right thing to say. Hell, she doesn't know if there is a right thing to say. She open her mouth again, but Jake beats her to it, putting a hand on her knee to give her a comforting squeeze.

“I really like you, Natasha Trace. And I want you to know that,” Jake confesses, holding her gaze with an intensity that surprises her. 

She’s quiet – his admission weighing heavily on her. 

Would it be unfair to say it back? Does she even feel the same way? This feeling inside of her that’s settled in her belly – a fondness for the last man on the planet she ever thought she could feel this way about – only confirms her suspicions. 

I really like you too. 

“You don’t have to say it back but… I wanted… to tell you that. Not just for you. But for me,” Jake continues, his voice steady, knowing it’s something he needs to get off his chest. 

In all honesty, he’s felt this way for her for a long time, but he knows now isn’t the right time to tell her that either.

She nods, as if she’s processing what he’s just said. 

“Jake, I… it’s not like I expect you to wait for me or anything but-,” she begins, still stumbling over her words as she searches for the ‘right’ thing to say. 

“Wasn’t gonna, Trace,” he interjects with a chuckle, lightening the mood.

She laughs, and the feeling seems to lift some of the pressure off of her chest. 

“I guess I just-. Thank you for telling me,” she says, mustering up all the sincerity in her body that she can. She’s not ready to say it back, but she doesn’t want it to go unacknowledged. “And… I’ve… I’ve enjoyed this… whatever the hell this was.”

Jake smiles softly, stealing a glance in Natasha’s direction. It’s not like he expected her to say it back, but the look on her face seems to quell any pangs of disappointment he may have had. In his silence, Nat observes the soft smile on the aviators face, narrowing her eyes at him before she follows up with:

“But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll kill you.”

“No one would believe me even if I did,” he drawls, leaning back on his hands and relaxing into the sand. 

“Right,” she mumbles with a dry laugh. 

She takes a breath, then a beat before asking:

“Are we going to be okay?”

Jake sits up once more to gently bump his shoulder against hers. 

He shrugs, “Yeah, Trace. We’re gonna be okay.”

She’ll admit that she’s surprised by how well he’s taking this rejection. Was Jake Seresin actually much more mature than he led on?

“So what do we do now?” she asks, a hint of defeat in her voice. 

“We enjoy one more night together,” Jake answers truthfully. “That is… if you want to. And then we go our separate ways in the morning.”

Her eyes search his calm expression, caught off guard by his casual tone. Could it really be that easy? Could it really be that simple when she feels so damn conflicted inside? And for Jake, it isn’t, but for now, it’s going to have to be. 

Before she can give him the credit, in typical Hangman fashion, he’s got more to add, taking a much more playful approach this time as he wraps an arm around her shoulder. 

“Then, by the time you get back to base, you realize you can’t get me out of your head. After agonizing over your decision to let me go, you come to said realization in a rom-com-worthy montage,” he goes on, telling his wild tale. “Doesn’t matter where I am: Texas, Japan, the middle of the Pacific Ocean – you book the earliest flight you can – and it’s all pebbles on my bedroom window, boombox blaring the cheesiest love song you can think of in a chivalrous attempt to win me back.”

She laughs, shaking her head incredulously at his described scenario. 

“Don’t push it, Bagman,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“Can’t help it if I’m always right, Phoenix,” he gloats, earning another eye roll from her. 

Natasha returns her attention to the ocean, watching the water ebb and flow like they’ve done so perfectly since the dawn of time. 

“It’s a nice fantasy,” she admits, breaking the silence between them. 

Jake nods, and they exchange a laugh; the look in both of their eyes, bittersweet. 

Jake takes a breath before standing, making sure to offer his hand to help her up. Natasha gladly takes it as he helps her up to her feet, before they start their walk back up the beach. As they reach the back of the Hard Deck, shoes in hand, Jake pauses so that they can both put their shoes back on. 

“Oh and Nat?”

“Hmmm?”

“I want a real boombox. Not a bluetooth speaker. I want authenticity and I’ll settle for nothing less,” he warns playfully. 

“Fine,” she gives in, because it really is a nice fantasy. “I’m sure arrangements can be made.”

It feels dangerously close to making a promise. 

“Shall we?” he asks, holding out a hand to her.

It’s an invitation – a promise of one last time – so she takes it. 

Just one more night, she thinks to herself.

*

In the morning, everyone goes their separate ways. Bradley heads out to Maverick’s hangar early in the morning with a promise of a reunion. 

“Why don’t I spend the rest of my leave with you at Lemoore? Before I head back to Oceana,” he’d proposed when you’d discussed what next. “Should be with Mav for a few days. Then I’ll drive up over the weekend.”

“Are you sure? If you want more time with Mav-,” you’d hesitated. 

“I’m sure. The week will be plenty of time.”

And you’d found no other reason to argue with him, more than happy to have more time with your new boyfriend. 

It’s less of a goodbye and more of a see-you-later. 

But for Natasha and Jake, this morning feels far more bittersweet. He’s unsure of when he’ll see her again, the weight of it feeling heavier this morning. After she leaves in the morning, LA bound in a rental car, Hangman’s not ready to sit with it just yet. He changes into some workout clothes, eager to clear his head. 

The weight of goodbye had colored their last night together, turning up the intensity – the intimacy – of their interactions. He’d had some of these feelings for Natasha Trace for a long time. It was her hunger for excellence, her fire, the fact that she could hold her own when it came to his quips and banter. 

And after what they did on the carrier? After this past week? He knew he knew she'd carved out a permanent space there, taken up residence in his head (and maybe even in his heart) that he’d never quite be able to shake. 

After parting ways with Rooster, It’s not hard for you to find Jake. He’s never quite figured out how to turn off his location sharing from that one time a few years ago when you’d showed him how to turn it on. 

You find him on the beach, sitting and watching the waves. He’s sweaty from his run, his running sneakers somehow still in perfect condition. 

“Bagman,” you call after him, the familiar nickname bringing a smile to his lips because of who it reminds him of. 

“How’d you find me?” he asks, as he turns, watching you take a seat next to him. 

“I swear to god, you barely know how to work a smartphone, grandpa. I’m pretty sure your location is shared with me eternally,” you tease him, sitting side by side with your best friend. 

“Damn it,” he mumbles, returning his attention to the ocean. 

“How ya doin?” you ask him, as if you know he needs to talk. 

He wonders if that’s why you came to find him in the first place. 

He shrugs, thinking about his answer, “I’m alright, kid. 

You nod slowly, trying to read him as you ask:

“You got plans for leave?”

“Dunno,” he drawls, searching for answers in the pattern of the waves. “Might head back to Nevada early. I got booted off the shortlist for the next mission for defying orders to stand down but… you know how it goes.”

“Ahhh the price of being a hero,” you sigh, bumping your shoulder up against him. 

He laughs, but there’s a sadness in his eyes as you exchange glances, that you notice immediately.

“Or I could head back to Texas. Might go visit Sarah and the kids,” he thinks out loud as he explores the options he has for the next few weeks you all were given.

Go see his sisters, Sarah and Caroline. Catch up with old friends. Maybe (and it’s a big maybe) see his parents. 

“Texas, huh?

“Yeah.”

This time you turn your whole body towards him, scooting over in the sand. 

“In that case… how would you feel about a pit stop in Austin? I could… get a ticket too and go see my dad. I’m gonna have to tell him I got called up for a top secret mission and all I came back with was a boyfriend he’s now gotta worry about,” you propose, dressing your offer with a little humor. “You wanna come with?”

“Someone’s gotta give him an honest and unbiased opinion on Rooster, kid,” he teases, taking a much more light hearted approach. 

“Unbiased? Thaaaat’s not the word I’d use to describe your perspective of Bradley!” you fire back. 

“Bradley, huh?” he asks, shooting you a look. 

“You don’t think I call him Rooster when we-,” you begin to ask, before immediately being cut off by Jake. 

“Woahhhh okay, kid. Way more than I need to know!” he interjects, because he really doesn’t want to picture you, his best friend, and Rooster doing anything right now. 

He waits a beat before asking:

“So it’s serious?”

You smile, and the look in your eyes is all he needs to know as you answer, “Yeah, I think so.” 

Jake hums in response before checking his phone. While he swears he’s checking the time, he’s only alotta disappointed when he doesn’t see a message from Nat. 

“You… wanna talk about it?” you ask, noticing the shift in him. 

“Hm?”

“You and Nat.”

“Ahhhh.”

He pauses and he can’t look at you when he drags out:

“She’s not ready.”

You sigh. 

“I’m sorry. I know you’ve liked her for a long time,” you console him, giving his shoulder closest to you a squeeze. 

“It’s-,” he starts to stay, before realizing what you’ve actually said. “What do you mean by ‘you’ve known for a long time’?!”

“Because… I have eyes!” you cry out with a laugh. 

“I’m not that obvious,” he protests, shooting you a look that says, ‘oh, c’mon.’

“Oh you so are!” you reply, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I-,” he begins to say, before giving in. 

You exchange another look with Jake before he just laughs, shaking his head this time too. You see him, you know him better than anyone else (except for maybe Coyote), and there’s no point in fighting you on it. It’s not like he’d been keeping it – his feelings for Nat – a secret, but he hadn’t thought it was that noticeable either.

“It’s okay,” he finally says, steering the conversation back to your question. “I should’ve known. Not all of us can just throw ourselves into it like you and Rooster.” 

And even though he says it’s okay, you can tell he’s disappointed. You shift your position once more so that you can rub a few soothing circles over his back.

“Jake, you two are gonna figure it out one day. I know it,” you declare, reassuringly. 

“I’m not so sure about that, kid,” he shakes his head, letting out a doubtful huff. 

“Well, I am. C’mon,” you encourage, giving him a rallying slap on the back. 

He laughs again. 

“Have a little faith, Seresin.”

the end.

[notyourdaisybuchanan]

I just think it's special that Rooster and Hangman have kind of equal and parallel journeys in terms of character + flying development over the course of the film. What I mean is that their big individual triumphant moments in the narrative use their piloting choices to reflect emotional development. The film shows us from the start that they each have a Big Flaw--and the finale shows them overcoming these flaws.

Not only that, but the narrative uses their dynamic to introduce these individual shortcomings to us, the audience. Their first on screen conversation with each other is how we learn about their Big Flaws in the first place. Because of their relationship and the way they interact, we know how Rooster and Hangman are going to fly before we ever see them in the air.

For Rooster, it's "snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment...that never comes.” We hear this over and over again, from both Hangman and Maverick–"Now you got it, don't think, just do." "Rooster, you got him, drop down and take the shot!" "Too late, had your chance.” "...same old Rooster." "You're not. flying. fast enough. You don't have a second to waste." This is Rooster’s Big Flaw–he doesn’t trust himself. He flies too slow, and he’s too careful, too hesitant in moments when he needs to believe in his abilities and let instinct take over. This is what Maverick and Hangman are trying to pound into his head the whoooole time. 

And then he’s on the mission, and Fanboy’s laser doesn’t work. And instead of waiting, well: "There's no time, I'm dropping blind." "Bullseye bullseye bullseye!"

This moment is HUGE for him. Fanboy is literally telling him to wait so he can line it up, and maybe a prior Rooster would have done that, but this Rooster has finally learned that he gets one chance and he has to take the shot that's in front of him. [Cue Hangman cheering.] The decision he makes as a pilot in this moment shows that he's learned what Maverick and Hangman were trying to teach him and that he's grown emotionally. He's more sure of himself now–he was always capable of taking the shot, but now he actually trusts himself to do it.

And then we have Hangman, Bagman, Mr. "Where's he going?" "That's why we call him Hangman, he'll always hang you out to dry." "Leaving your wingman, there's a strategy I haven't seen in a while." He's not a good team player; he flies solo both literally and metaphorically. We hear this over and over again, especially from Rooster–"Watch your back, Phoenix." "You put your team in danger and your wingman's dead." Hangman’s response? “They couldn't keep up." (And I can't stop thinking about "Hangman, the only place you'll lead anyone is an early grave." There's so much history there, and so much belief from Rooster that Hangman is Not a person to depend on in a moment of crisis.)

But then, Hangman’s ultimate moment of triumph is that he refuses to leave Maverick and Rooster hanging, that he is the one person who has their backs in a moment of crisis. We see exactly how concerned he is while waiting on the carrier, and we see him ASK to go engage in the fight to fly cover for his squad when the bandits aren’t even attacking anyone yet!! Like I could seriously cry about "Dagger spare, request permission to launch and fly air cover." Because he is specifically asking so that Rooster can go back and get Mav, something that we know is completely at odds with his Big Flaw. And then we see him presumably disobey orders to show up and save Maverick and Rooster's lives anyway. He learned from Maverick and Rooster–he's part of a team now, those are his wingmen out there, and he's not leaving them behind. 

So the film uses their big triumphant moments in the air to show Rooster and Hangman overcoming their respective flaws. It’s part of what makes the action of the finale so fucking good, because while yes, it is very satisfying action on its own, it’s also rooted in their character development. We’re not just happy that Rooster made the shot, we’re happy because Rooster making the shot means something about him. We’re happy that Hangman is the one to come through for Rooster and Mav because that means something about him and his growth.

The most iconic part is that the traits they each needed to adopt belonged to the other. Rooster is set up from the start as the pilot who won’t leave his wingman, even when it’s gonna cost him–“Should be us down there.” “But it’s not. And now you know a little something about Rooster.” This is the exact thing Hangman struggles with, and it’s what he overcomes to have his moment of triumph. Meanwhile Hangman is set up as the one who flies by instinct–”Yeah, you’re good, I’ll give you that.” He flies fast, he doesn’t overthink, and above all, he trusts himself as a pilot. This is the exact thing Rooster struggles with, and it’s what he has to overcome to have his moment of triumph. 

The fact that the two of them have parallel arcs like this? The fact that they both learn to be better, more complete pilots by adopting the strength that comes naturally to the other?

I just think that's beautiful.

[strykingback]

So... the Volume 9 Epilogue has gotten an extended epilogue sequence and...

What the actual FUCKING FUCK.

So just like before it starts where Volume 8 ended with everyone mourning the loss of many people who died cause the four little dumbasses and Harem wannabe knight and his team brought down all of Atlas. And thus reintroduces Sun and Neptune. Team CFVY and others.

So then cue a timeskip where we see things in Vacuo arent good as Atlesians and Vacuans are all trying to live together but at the same time shit has hit the fan literally between them. As the Vacuans do not appreciate them being here.

And oh right Mercury is there with Tyrian as they are joining forces with the Crown of Choice group from the stupid RWBY books or should I say forgettable.

To make matters even worse everyone is on edge with eachother as Nora steps up to be a leader while Ren is trying his hardest to keep everyone together to work as one. Oscar is trying his best to resist the merger between him and Ozpin and then after some yadda yadda talk and more refugee interactions.

An airship is in the distance and its from Vale and none other than Professor Port and Oobleckas they reveal that Vale has been destroyed by Salem.... and with no sign of Glynda Goodwitch.. it can be assumed she died.

(Literally my genuine reaction to hearing that info.)

HOLD THE FUCKING FUCK UP.

You cant be serious. The writers fucked up one the most easiest cliche's ever. That me and many RWBY fans agreed that the final battle would take place in FUCKING VALE. And they decide to OFF-SCREEN ITS DESTRUCTION.

Like oh my fucking sweet baby rays on top of RIBS! This is garbage. Not only did they fuck up the most easiest CLICHE of all time the "It Ends Where It Began" but utterly fucked it up and placed it in a trash fire. Just Cause!!!

Whats even is the four dumbasses (RWBY) even fucked over Atlas by deriving Remnant of its ONLY SINGULAR MILITARY FORCE!

Oh? No Consequences in RWBY okay how about this then.

Thanks to Vale's destruction this would mean:

Millions of people may have died in Vale from Salem alone and those who managed to survive are suffering from starvation. Faunus Rights May Have Been Set Back By A THOUSAND STEPS because the White Fang attacked Vale and Beacon Academy.

The Humanitarian Crisis in Vacuo has went from bad to worse to "We're fucking cooked!" We've now been derived of a Glynda and Ozpin reunion.

SALEM NOW HAS GAINED ANOTHER RELIC!!

Anyways. It seems all hope is lost and then Raven reappears with none other than RWBY+ J as everything now is sparked up into a fire once more with everyone getting hyped up.

Like... okay. This is some ol' bullshit right here chief!!!! Like not only the writers just once again think its a good fucking decision to fuck over what many agreed to be Vale as the final battle location of RWBY or its final Volume. But the fact that Rooster Teeth couldn't even write a proper fucking ending to this show. So Basically to sum things up.

Fare Thee FUCKING WELL RWBY Heres hoping to your inevitable Reboot.

[compacflt]

you're a legend for referencing lauren berlant and michael warner in relation to your top gun fic and I'd like to think that they would say the same!! the stories that you've created are beautiful explorations of some of the biggest questions posed in queer theory: who are we in public? who are we in private? where is the line that separates the two (spoiler: there is no way to actually separate the two, no binary) and what are the structural forces bearing down upon all of that bullshit! I for one would love to see your questions about privacy and respectability explored with rooster and ice and mav. especially considering the generational cliff between them, with the aids crisis in the background of rooster's childhood when they were all the closest, in your world. anyway! you are an incredible writer and it's been a privilege to read you work :)

thank you so much for this ask!! yes i have spent so much time thinking about this. In March i started working on a new-yorker-style interview that tried to address a bunch of these questions. Since I didn’t do wip wednesday yesterday (sorry) here’s some relevant sections of that wip related to your ask. I don’t think it’s spoilers since I’m not sure id ever post this anywhere—you can see for yourself how entertaining the writing is and it’s overly political and didactic. Just a lame hegelian dialectic where im interrogating my own characters (at least, my own interpretations of them) on their politics. And I’m not an expert on any of this stuff (currently on the slow uphill climb out of the valley of the dunning-kruger graph—trying to learn). Nor am I fact-checking it & that feels irresponsible to post For Real. so just take this post as a fun (for me) exploration of what i (20y.o., ignorant, no editorial oversight, smooth-brained) think Might be some political implications of my fics, trying to write from a lib-moderate pov (tough!)

talking points I wanted to address:

The politics of ice’s career, both internationally & domestically (some wild navy scandals happened under his “tenure” [fat Leonard most pressingly—would LOVE to know how actual TGM’s ice & mav felt about that bc it was SO FUCKING CRAZY, navy officers & admirals having wild sex parties paid for by a singapore defense contractor (the details are so fucking crazy i can’t even say them here—one anecdote involves 7th fleet officers using WWII/Korean war general macarthurs historical memorabilia during sex acts—go read about it) a couple PACFLT RDMLs were charged with actual crimes, 60 admirals (of the navys total 160 admirals) were under investigation & both my and TGM’s ice & cyclone would probably have been two of them, basically if you were a pacflt officer in the mid-2000s-2010s you were under investigation it was so fucking wild]) —and another geopolitical look at the implications of both top gun movies (reagan weighs in from beyond the grave)

Ice and mav who can’t win—they want their relationship to Not Be A Big Deal. leave us alone. We’re Normal. we’re not Weird or anything. —but can’t understand WHY their relationship is so sensational/political—yes, boys, it is a big deal, sorry!! mavericks probably the last Ace the world will ever see & ice is the secretary of the navy and they’re married, fuck yes that’s newsworthy!!!

my version of Ice acceding to SECNAV at the intersection of a couple crucial contextual moments for the navy/military as a whole: 1. Recruitment is currently fucked. This interview takes place in 2020/early 2021, and things were bad then, but the numbers just came out for the Navy this year, and hoooooly shit they are so bad. And blame is falling along partisan lines like always: Ds blame low recruitment numbers on lack of benefits etc, Rs literally i am not shitting you are mostly blaming low recruitment numbers on the military going Woke. The USN has long been seen as the most obnoxiously woke/gay (derogatory) service to conservatives & there’s a lot of political baggage that comes with having a SECNAV who, while not openly identifying as gay, is openly married to another man. especially with a recruiting crisis like this one. 2. Withdrawal from afghanistan obviously. kind of a shit way for ice to end his career ngl. It Did Not Go Super Well. 3. rising tensions in eastern europe pre RU-UA invasion in 2022, what that means for the MIC and procurement, etc. 4. The joint chiefs openly declaring they (& by extension the military as a whole) would not support trump’s coup attempt post-J6—the end of that extremely politically polarized presidency—what does it mean for the following Dem president to then have a gay secnav after that? It’s HUGE. SO no matter what, Ice as SECNAV is going to go down in history. He just wants it to be for his actions, not the fact that he’s gay.

Icemav’s relationship with their identities. We really really don’t want to be known for being gay. “Ask me what my proudest achievement is, I’ll tell you without a second of hesitation—my family. Without a doubt. But does any military man really want to be best-known for his marriage?” We want to be known for being the BEST at our jobs, which we are. We’ve earned that title! There’s so much more interesting stuff about us than who we got married to.

AND how that is a liberal-moderate-conservative median-50% meritocratic WET DREAM of an ideology. an interview like this one is a straight fluff piece pre-ice’s confirmation to secnav—it lets him prove to the moderate liberals that he’s left-leaning enough to protect social justice interests in the USN, AND prove to conservatives that he’s right-leaning enough to not let identity politics/“woke bs” get in the way of the navy’s mission of providing a lethal maritime fighting force. the merits of this ideology are up for debate.

maybe helping the conservative viewpoint of that ideology: The fact that the Kazansky-Mitchell-Bradshaw-seresin family is so not-stereotypically gay. Like, look at these four guys. 9-to-11 combat kills between them (11 in my universe where ice gets an extra 2, 9 canon confirmed) in a period of history/modern warfare when ANY air-to-air kill is/was massively historically significant. Extremely macho & tough. They present themselves about as traditionally and toxically masculine as you could possibly get. Theyve KILLED PEOPLE. They’re not “soft” by any stretch of the imagination. Physically & emotionally they ARE extremely conservative, and there’s something to be said about the politics of that too—molding yourself into the shape of what you think a man should look like, just to avoid persecution, and then performing masculinity BETTER than even the men who would want to persecute you…!

Related to your ask: the modern/young ppl inclination to make sexuality SO political and public. When asked how he could reckon with joining a DADT-ruled navy, rooster answers: “hope I could do something to destroy it before it could destroy me.” When asked why he DIDNT use any of his considerable power to influence the repeal of DADT, ice answers: “it was better than the blanket ban that came before it. And maybe I’ve always wanted neither to tell nor to be asked.” the conservative respectable opinion that your intimate relationships ought to be PRIVATE, doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight—just do your job, and preferably do it well. yeah, don’t ask and don’t tell. It’s not anyone’s business. ice doesn’t have a philosophical problem with DADT, because he agrees sexuality should be private & secret. —is it anyone’s business? whose business is it? How much of your personal life do you owe the public if you’re a public-facing individual like the COMPACFLT or SECNAV? all good questions!!!!

[shouldershimmycity]

Brother Knows Best (Rooster x Sister Reader)

"Hey! I absolutely loved your latest fic! Is there anyway I could request a reader who is Roosters adopted teenage sister she’s like 16 or 17 and he has custody over her.

Maybe she gets involved with a older guy who is around 19 or 20 and Rooster has a huge problem with it and starts a fight because he is so over protective and can see that he is bad news, and the reader sneaks out that night and runs away to the guy but ends up getting hurt and Rooster and maybe Maverick find her and she apologizes and it’s just a cute sibling moment.

I would love if you could write this but I also completely understand if you can’t!! Thanks in advance!!!"

FIRST OF ALL, YES I CAN ABSOLUTELY WRITE THIS!

SECOND OFF ALL, I LIKED THE IDEA TOO MUCH TO NOT WRITE IT TONIGHT SO MERRY CRISIS/CHRYSLER/CHRISM TO YOU DEAR ANON! *MWAH!* I KNOW IT'S KIND OF SHORT BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

TW: Assault, swearing, and being drunk

*****

You were tuning out your older brother. He was in the middle of scolding you for something you didn’t care about. He was too uptight, being a military man. You on the other hand, were the complete opposite. You weren’t even related to Bradley by blood, which explained so much about the differences between you two. 

Carole Bradshaw adopted you when you were six, and she died when you were ten. You loved her to death, but it made you upset to think about her when you ended up with him. Bradley was such a friggin’ control freak and it drove you up the wall. You looked over to find Bradley staring at you, waiting for a response.

“Sooooooo are we done?” you asked him, the boredom dripping from your tone. Bradley made a face that was something between frustration and just giving up. 

“You’re not seeing Jared again. He is seven years older than you! You are seven-fucking-teen!” he ordered.

“You joined the fucking Navy when you were eighteen, I’m basically an adult, Bradley!” you shouted back. He looked around and threw his hands up in the air. 

“I got a JOB, when I was eighteen, I didn’t date a MINOR!” he countered. 

You rolled your eyes and walked upstairs, Bradley shouting after you. FUCK he was so annoying. You slammed your door for good measure, and turned to read the text message that had caused your phone to ding. 

“Hey baby, we still on for tonight?”

You texted Jared back with zero hesitation, wanting nothing more than to piss your brother off again. 

“Hell yeah. Do you have my fake ID for me?”

‘“Course babe. Can’t fuck shit up without one.”

You turned your phone off and grinned like the Cheshire cat. 

Excellent.

*****

Bradley sat on the couch, flipping through the TV blankly. Maybe he was too hard on you. He knew you had been given the crappy cards, crappier than his. But he just wanted you to be safe, that’s all he needed to know. He sighed and turned the TV off, it was nearing eleven thirty at night and Bradley wanted to try and have a civil conversation with you so he could sleep alright tonight. 

He trudged up the stairs and knocked on your door lightly. You didn’t answer. He looked at the bottom of your door. Lights are on. He turned the knob and the door creaked open quietly. The pilot stuck his head into your room to peer around. SHIT. He pushed the door open all the way and looked chaotically around your empty room. He opened your closet to make sure you weren’t hiding from him, and he looked around maybe six times until he realized he was just spinning in circles.

Ripping his phone out of his pocket, he called the only person who knew you better than Bradley did. 

“Maverick, my sister snuck out, and I think she ran off with that dickhead boyfriend,” he explained quickly. 

“Any idea where they might have gone?” he asked, putting his shoes on in the background.

“None, maybe a bar? She wouldn’t go to the Hard Deck, Penny knows her. God, Mav, I have no idea,” he said, his words rushed and nervous. Maverick was quiet on the line for a second, and Bradley waited for the older man to answer him.

“Let me make some calls.”

*****

You were on the beach, sitting in the bed of your boyfriends truck. There was a bonfire going while Jared and his friends drank all the liquor your group of “friends” had collected. You were drunk, but not as drunk as Jared. 

Jared was going on a very loud tirade about how all military men were a bunch of cowards and bitches. It was starting to make you uncomfortable. You often got pissed off by your brother, but he was a hero for all the shit he’s done and gone through. Don’t even get started on Maverick. You would defend your uncle until the day you died. You were starting to want to leave.

You saw it before you heard it, what with traveling faster than the speed of sound. An F/A-18 flew in a low pass past the beach, and you smiled a little. Late night training. Jared, on the other hand, threw a bottle into the air, with the hope he could hit the aircraft that only a drunk man could have.

“FUCK! OFF!” he slurred, shouting. Alright, enough was enough. You got out of the bed of his truck, hopping down to talk to Jared.

“Jared, I’m ready to go now,” you stated. He gave you a sneer.

“I’m not going anywhere yet,” he said. You stared back at him.

“But I want to leave now,” you said, trying to reason with him. You didn’t like Jared when he was like this, drunk off his ass.

He turned to look at the rest of the group, who were glaring at you, then backhanded you across the face so hard you fell into the sand. His rings had cut your face in a few places and you stared at him in shock.

You stood back up shakily and he punched you in the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You looked at your boyfriend with wild eyes, unsure why he was doing this. He slapped you once more and this time you didn't stick around. You were, literally, pounding sand. You ran into the dark night, unsure of where you were going to go.

You needed your brother.

***** 

“They’re down by the beach, I had some late night trainees see if they could find his truck anywhere public they might be,” Maverick said, hanging up his cellphone.

Bradley’s phone began to buzz and he answered it before he could even read the caller ID. 

“Hello?” he asked, frantic.

“Rooster, I just saw your sister come into the Hard Deck about five minutes ago. She was looking for you, man. She’s got some cuts and bruises on her face,” Bobs voice filled the other end of the line, full of concern, “I tried to make it over to her but she left and I couldn’t find her.”

“Bob! You’re the best!” Bradley hung up his phone and grabbed his keys. On the way out to his Bronco he told Maverick the information Bob had relayed to him. 

The drive to the Hard Deck was about ten minutes, and Rooster gripped the wheel like his life depended on it. He was so concerned with finding you, it left the question of what Jared had done to you unanswered. Was Jared looking for you too? Were you in danger? Rooster was so caught up in his thoughts that Mavericks cry of surprise made him jump.

“There she is!” he shouted, pointing you out. Bradley pulled over and his headlights showed in your face. You squinted and prepared to bolt, scared that Jared found you and wanted to kill you or something. 

Then you heard your brother and Maverick call your name, Bradley walking out from behind the bright lights. 

“Bradley!” you sobbed, running into your brother's arms. You hugged him so tight he could take 9Gs of force and say awake. 

“Don’t you ever do that to me again! Oh my god are you hurt?” He pulled you away to look at your face. Bob was right, you were super banged up. “What happened? Did he do this to you? I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

You hugged Bradley again, sobbing loudly, and he just cradled you, rubbing your back and telling you it was all gonna be okay. 

“I’m so sorry Bradley,” you cried, pulling away, “I should have listened to you, the guy is a FREAK!” You hugged your brother again.

He didn’t care whether or not he was right or wrong, but he was right. He wasn’t going to ever vocalize it to you, but he just stood there, appreciating the fact that you were safe in his arms, his baby sister.

*****

“Bradley!” you shouted. 

“Will you hold on just one second!? God you are so impatient!” he complained across the house. 

You sat in front of the TV with the remote in your hands, as Bradley walked in with two bowls of ice cream. You laughed, then looked at him with the most intense deadpan stare that you could muster. 

“Bradley, is the ice cream in your hands, fudge brownie?” you demanded.

“What else would it be?” he asked, concerned.

“Thank God,” you smiled. Bradley shook his head at your antics, handing you your sundae. 

“You forgot my sprinkles, fucker.”

“Get them yourself.”

“If I ask for sprinkles, I expect sprinkles Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw!”

“Just press play.”

“Okay.”

[ohtobeleah]

Dot having a baby sister makes me so sad for teenage Dot. If she struggles with her brothers her sister must be worse. She definitely feels replace 🥺 I hope eventually Dot realizes how much Rooster loves her.

Warnings: under age drinking? Terms of Endearment Masterlist

Dot has two siblings. Riley Carole Bradshaw & Nickolas Jacob Bradshaw. But let's get into it, shall we? 

Dots so rebellious in her teenage years. Especially around the time she’s sixteen boarding on twenty one. She’s dealing with an identity crisis, doesn’t know who she is or wants to be and that comes out in the form of her teenage angst. Where she believes everyone in the world is against her and that nobody understands what it’s like to be her. 

“I wanna go see dad—“ Odette is barking at you one morning while you’re getting ready for work, making Nick his sandwich and packing his fruit snacks into his lunchbox. 

“He’s literally out the back in the shed Dot—“ You don’t register what your oldest is saying to you until she metaphorically backhands Bradley Bradshaw so hard you know he feels the sting in his heart from the tool shed. 

“Not Bradley—my real dad? The one in prison?” You’re freezing in your place, the knife covered in peanut butter in your hand nearly breaks the slice of bread in half as you feel every muscle in your body tense. 

“No.” You answer sharply, shaking off the fear you felt radiating under your skin. Even after all these years Jaidyn Dolan still had a power over you. He scared the ever living Christ out of you. “End of story—no.” 

“But why not? I mean, it’s not like you ever talk ab—“ Just as Bradley is making his way into the house via the back door, he hears you raise your voice to an octave he hardly ever hears you reach. 

“I said no Odette!! For once will you just listen to me when I tell you no!!?” The whole house falls silent and Dot is just looking at you like she hardly knew you. “Christ! That man has never been a part of your life and he never will be! Do you hear what I’m telling you?” Bradley can see the pain in your eyes, he knows that even still to this day you can’t talk about it—any of it. He knows you and Odette have been on the rocks the past couple of months, to no fault of your own. It’s just teenage angst: 

“Loud and clear Commander.” Odette sasses you as she grabs her lunch bag, rolls her eyes and walks right past Bradley who’s just standing in the archway that separates the kitchen and living room. “Bye—“ He watches her open and slam the front door with the force of a thousand suns. Flinching as the sound of the door hitting the frame echoes throughout the house. 

“What the hell was that?” Roosters asks as he looks over his shoulder at Riley who’s just standing there bewildered at the way her mother had just yelled at her older sister. Frowning a weird expression at his middle child who shrugs her shoulders back at him. “Fe?” 

“Dot wants to go see Jaidyn in jail—“ Is all you say without looking up at your husband. “She’s not going, end of story—“ 

Bradley doesn’t reply. He simply processes what you just said and sighs. He takes a few strides over to where you’re busy taking out your anger on the piece of white bread that’s now full of holes and covered in peanut butter. Bradley stands behind you, he slowly but surely reaches out to take the butter knife from your hand and kisses your cheek softly. Watching as you whisper out a sob and cup your hand over your mouth. 

“I’m not telling you what to do here honey, but maybe if she knew—“ 

“I can’t tell her Rooster.” You turned around into Bradley’s chest, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I just can't.” Bradley understands, he still has nightmares from time to time about everything that happened. He’s woken up with sweat covering his entire body after tossing and turning, dreaming about what could have been if he didn't get to you. He understands. 

“Alright, well, we’re just gonna have to keep managing this phase she's going through.” 

Which you do. For about two days before you can't take the silent treatment any longer. You can't take the disgruntled looks Dot sends you from across the dinner table, the way she looks at Bradley like he didn't raise her since she was two, like he wasn't her father. Instead a stranger sitting across from her pretending to be someone to her that he wasn't. 

“Odette honey will you come here please?” You call out from the living room, Dot just rolls her eyes when she hears you calling for her. She’d been grabbing a drink from the fridge. 

“Yeah mum?” 

“I want you to look at these two pieces of paper for me.” You don't even look at your daughter as she walks closer to the coffee table that has two pieces of paper sitting side by side on top of it. You're watching old reruns of Gilmore Girls and Dot thinks you're just being a bitch with the whole not being able to look her in the eyes bullshit. But what Odette doesn't know is that if you look at her, you’re gonna break down. So you don't bother. “One of those pieces of paper is termination of parental rights form.” You explain softly. “Signed by Jaidyn Dolan himself.” 

Dot just stared at the document that had her biological dads signature on it, his name in print above it. 

“The one next to it is an adoption form, a legal guardianship form that Bradley signed the day after Jaidyn signed all his rights away.” You tried so hard to hide your tears in the glow of the TV. Tried to silence the voices you heard inside you heard that you couldn't turn off. The screams, the pleading and the begging. “You want to go see the man who signed his rights away so be it sweetheart, but I need you to know he’ll never be your dad and he won't ever be your father and he never was to begin with.” 

“Will you take me?” Is all Dot asks as she barely looks at the paperwork. “To see dad?” It kills you whenever she calls Jaidyn her dad, whatever identity you hope Odette finds you hope it's soon and hope it's quick because you can't take the pain of the knife she's slowly twisting into your heart. 

“No baby I won't.” You finally turn to face your daughter, Dot sees the tears in your eyes and wonders why you're crying, but she doesn't bother to ask. “And don't bother asking your father because he’s not taking you either, and Uncle Jake said he’d rather be arrested again than take you anywhere near him.” Dot frowns at the work again in that sentence, like she missed the story about the first time uncle Jake was arrested. “But your aunt Amilia said she will.” 

“Why won’t uncle Jake take me either?” Dot asked just above a whisper as she watched you wipe your tears away, collecting the documents you needed to keep safe incase of an emergency. Copied twice with one set being kept safely in Jake Seresin personal study as well as your own. 

“Because he knows if he's let anywhere near him he’ll kill him, Dotty.” You explain, leaving it at that before your looking at your oldest daughter, hardly recognising her. “Look, I dont wanna have this conversation again, so if you must go see him, by all means do so, but don't tell me about it when you do, because me and your father dont wanna know about it.” 

So Dot doesn't talk about it again. She never mentions it. She just keeps on keeping on with her bad attitude and her teenage angst. Until you get a message from Jake saying that Dots just left with Amelia to head up to the jail. Jake loved his wife to death but he hated that she’d offered to take Dot. he was seething. 

“This just isn't gonna go well Fe.” 

“I know.” You cried. Completely and utterly distressed while you sat on the floor in the shower in all your clothes, fighting off a full blown panic attack while the kids and Bradley were out. “I know but I can't not stop her from going.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

It's about an hour's drive. And the entire Time Dots’ palms were sweating. She had so many questions that needed answering. She can't remember Jaidyn or what he looked like, but when she sees him being led out in his orange jump suit in handcuffs? Her heart sinks into her stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. It just became glaring obvious that her father was a criminal. 

“Odette Bradshaw.” Jaidyn is smiling ear to ear when he sits down across from his daughter for the first time since she was two. A total of forteen years had passed. “So, your mother did end up marrying him huh.” It made Jaidyn so mad to know he’d lost. 

“Yeah, I guess she did, hi dad.” Dot had dreamed of this day, she’d always wondered what her real dad was like, what he’d done to end up in prison. Braldey always responded with ‘He’s just not a good man Dotty’ which never gave her much to work with. 

“Hi baby, god look how much you've grown hey?” He wore a maniacal smile that for a second, creeped Dot out as she sat across from the man who had helped you create her. “I wish I was around to see you grow up, kid.” It was a lie, Jaidyn wished Odette was dead. But something inside him told him that you would have hated the fact she was here with him right now. “But your mother ran off with you when you were only two, took me ages to find you and when I did she’d already started dating–” Jaidyn pretended to forget Bradley's name. So Dot filled in the blanks. Falling into the trap so easily because she was so utterly desperate to find out who she was. 

“Bradley, she’d already started seeing Bradley.” 

“That's his name!” Jaidyn just smiled, overly ecstatic. “Yeah, wouldn't let me see you at all.” There's a silence between the pair of them as they sit in the monitored room with guards watching Jaidyn like a hawk, because they know what he tried to do to the little girl Dot used to be. But she's none the wiser thanks to you. 

“Dad, why did you sign your rights away?” Odette asked, leaning in as she spoke a little quieter because it felt illegal to question it. “Did you not want me? Or–” 

“I was made to, your mother made me sweetheart, she wanted a life with that Bradley fellow and she forced me to sign those papers. She didn't want me involved with your life and I regret not fighting harder for you.” 

“But why are you in prison?” 

“I was set up for something I didn't do sweetheart, but I think you should ask your mum about that. If you don't know why I'm here then I guess she hasn't told you the whole story.” But as Dot shook her head, Jaidyn knew he had her hook line and sinker–

And he had one final chance to fuck with you. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

It's quiet in the car ride back home between Odette and her aunty Amilia. Dots hit her boiling point, she feels so utterly betrayed. She's sitting in the passenger's seat with her arms crossed looking out the window to hide the fact her bottom lip is quivering. 

She always knew you were hiding something but she never thought what you were hiding was that you’d set her dad up and forced him to sign his parental rights away. 

“Can you please keep the car running please?” Dot asked under her breath as she undid her seatbelt. Amilia just puts the car in neutral as she nods silently, sending her niece a soft smile of sympathy. Waiting for her to get out and march up to the house she couldn't stand to be in for a second longer with parents who’d lied to her her entire life. 

“Hey honey–” Amilia is greeting her husband over the phone. “I think Odette is coming back to stay with us tonight.” 

“I'm gonna tear that little pipsqueak a new one if she doesn't pull her bloody head in with all this crap baby.” Jakes pacing up and down the back deck back at home. He’s got a folder in his hand that explains everything. Jaidyns case file. The one that exposed you as the one thing you wanted to keep a secret from your daughter. 

That you were a victim of domestic abuse and attempted murder. 

“I said this wouldn't go well.” Amilia is taken aback when she hears shouting coming from inside the Bradshaw household. It's so loud that even Jake hears it on the other end of the line. “Holy fuck was that Dot?” 

“I think it was–but I can't be sure.” Amilia frowns. Deciding to stay in the car and wait for Odette to make her less than gracious return. 

“Dotty! Hey can you braid my hair for school tomorro–'' Riley is asking as Dot bursts through the front door, Odette just shoves at her younger sister till she's stumbling back. Dropping the brush she held out for Dot. 

“YOU LIED TO ME!! ABOUT EVERYTHING!” Odette is shouting at the top of her lungs. You just stare back at her with wide eyes as Nick, your eight year old, turns around to look at his older sister in complete shock from the spot on the floor in the living room he’d been playing his xbox at. YOU SAID HE DIDN'T WANT ME BUT HE DID!” 

“Honey, let's talk okay?” You try to reason with Odette as you take a step towards her, but all she does is shake her head as tears stream down her cheeks, stepping away from you to keep the distance between you. “Dot–?” 

“He told me that you took me from him, and when he finally found you after you ran away! That you'd already started dating Bradley!” 

“Who'd you take Odette from mum?” Nick is asking as he stood from where he’d been sitting on the ground. Dot just scoffs at you, watching as your eyes begin to fill with tears. You're shaking, so afraid of losing your daughter because you’d been too afraid to just own up and tell her the truth about it all, about everything her father did to you. 

“My real dad!” It's at this point Bradley is racing down the stairs after hearing Dot go off. He’s still putting a shirt over his head as he misses the last step. Slipping and stumbling before catching himself not so gracefully. “Because dad over here–” Dot spits in Bradley's direction as Riley and Nick look his way. “ISN'T MY REAL DAD!” 

It's the first time Nick and Riley ever hear that Bradley isn't Odette's biological dad and in the heavy silence that follows, they both erupt into tears. Not understanding what's happening and it breaks your heart. Your little family is being torn apart by a man you hadnt been in over forteen fucking years. 

“He’s a fake and a phoney and forced my real dad to sign his parental rights away because mum wanted to hurt him.” 

“That's enough young lady–” Bradley is squaring his shoulders and pointing a finger Dot's way. “You don't know a single thing about any of this–” Bradley doesnt want to raise his voice, he doesn't want to scare his children but the way he wanted to storm out the front door right now, grab Jake and storm that prison just to get rid of that son of a bitch once and for all was consuming him entirely. “You don't get to speak to your mother that way, or me.”

“Dad told me what you did to him!” Dots laughing at Bradley and in that moment you swear you see Jaidyn all over her sixteen year old face. “That you almost killed him and yet he’s the one rotting in prison for the rest of his life!” Bradley doesnt know what to say when he looks over at you with panic in his eyes, watching his son hug his mama because you're crying, watching as Riley stands clear away from everyone because she doesn't understand what's going on. “I hate you and I hate mum and I know everything I need to know to understand that you both lied to me for sixteen years–!” Odette steps towards Braldey who's still standing in the way of the stairs. “I'm going to get my stuff, I'm going to Uncle Jakes.” 

“Uncle Jake won’t put up with your attitude Odette.” Bradley hisses, stepping aside to watch his daughter stomp up the stairs. 

“I dont care, at least he won’t fucking lie to me like you two did.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jakes irate when his wife, Amilia Fisher-Seresin and his spawn of satan niece Odette Lillian Bradsahw are pulling up in the driveway. But, he's going to be the bigger person in all of this chaos. Jake knew why you didn't want to tell Dot about everything that happened–but he was going to because if he didnt? He was afraid that Dot would never quit this behaviour, this totally unreasonable moody teenage melodrama she’d been living in for the past two years. 

Someone had to tell her to pull her fucking head in, and if she wasn’t about to listen to you or Bradley? like fuck was she about to not about to sit and listen to every word her dear old Uncle Jake had to say. 

Jakes sitting on the front veranda when Dot steps out of his wifes black suzuki swift, Dot catches his gaze the second she's throwing her overnight bag over her slumped shoulders. He's got a six pack of Budweiser next to him, a bowl of salt and vinegar chips and a cream coloured folder that's full of all your deepest darkest secrets. 

Dot trudges her way over to Jake as Amilia stops to give her husband a kiss before leaving him to be the person Odette needed right now. A friend, someone to loop her in on the situation. 

“Before you yell at me for yelling at mum, just know, I don't care.” Dot mumbles as she drops her bag and plops down beside Jake. He doesn't say anything, but the corner of his lip turns upright into a barely there smirk. It vanishes seconds after when he realises what he's about to do. You might end up hating him for this, but then again, what are brothers for? 

“Grab a beer.” Jake reaches down to grab his own, twisting the top off before taking a sip, sighing as his back hits the back of the cushiony lounge that sits perched on the veranda. “Go on–” 

“I’m sixteen–” Dot’s still trying to pass herself off as the goody goody niece. But Jake cuts her off before she can get too far along with it. 

“Shut the fuck up kid, Roosters told me you’ve smoked pot together on the roof, I’m not stupid, I know you drink–” Jakes trusting a sixteen year old girl to not throw his ass under the bus and tell the authorities on him for providing a minor with alcohol. He could lose his job for this if he was found out. But as he takes another sip, he watches as Dot leans forwards–grabs the beer bottle, and cracks the top off on the side of the small table that's holding the bowl of chips like a pro. She’d done this a million times before. 

“Did Rooster also tell you that he almost killed my dad?” Dot mumbles as her lips press against the dark glass of the beer she holds up. That's Jake's cue. He sits up, picks up the cream folder and hands it over to Dot. “What's this?” 

“Everything you’ll ever need to know about that dickhead you've been calling your real dad for the last couple of months when your dad’s been standing right in front of you.” Jake explains with a solemn tone. “You’re pissed because you think your mum hasn’t been telling you the truth, but that's not true–she hasn't been lying to you Dot, but she's too scared to tell you the whole truth because she thinks you’ll think she's weak.” 

“Mums a lot of things but being weak isn’t one of them.” Dot snickers, taking a sip before she's putting her beer down on the table, sitting back and opening the folder. Her eyes scan the photos that fall out into her lap. There's pictures of you, battered and bruised. There's pictures of Bradley, beaten half to death. And there's a photo of Dot, being held in Jake's arms in a towel, soaking wet, it looks like she's screaming in the picture. “What are these?” 

“Jaidyn Dolan is in jail for assault and battery, murder, attempted murder and commision of domestic violence in the presence of a child.” Jake Seresin had memorised those charges ever since he’d first heard them. It was like a lullaby to him nowadays. Those words soothed his soul to repeat, hell he wanted to engrave them on a plaque somewhere just to commemorate the momentous day that was Jaidyns sentencing. “Should be a lot more but that's just the charges they could get him on while he was in North Island, none of that accounts for the fact he used to be your mother black and blue when she was pregnant with you, the daughter he actually asked her to abort.” 

“Why has mum not told me any of this?” Dot asked, completely stunned as she trailed her fingertips over the picture of your younger self, she hardly recognised you. 

“Like I said honey–” Jake sighed, taking a sip of his beer as he pushed his hair from his face. “She didn't want you to feel sorry for her, she didn't want to and still doesn't want to be seen as weak.”

“He said Brad dad tried to kill him? Is that true?” Dot asked as she turned her attention to the report, reading bits and pieces of the faithful night that made her want to throw up.  

“Dadliey did.” Jake confirmed. “But only after Jaidyn tried to kill you.” 

Dot sat with her Uncle for about three hours, reading, listening, crying because she knew she broke your heart by even asking to go see that awful man who’d used her to get to you just one final time. The final twist in the metaphorical knife that would let you know he won. He was always going to win. 

“Holy shit I need to go home and apologise–” Dot sobbed as she whipped her tears, she’d had three beers by the time her deep and meaningful with Uncle Jake was over. “I need to go ho-home.” When Odette went to stand, she stumbled forward, unable to use her legs to support the eight of the world that had come crashing down around her. God she’d been such a dick to you, to Bradley. All you ever did was love her, protect her, and she'd just been throwing all that back in your face. 

Jake just sighed, watching as Odette cried her heart out on his veranda, crouching down beside her to rub small circles against her back. 

“I think you should give your parents some space for the night Dot, post up in the spare room, think about how much crap you've given them over the last few months, and when you do go home tomorrow, you can hash it out with them with a clear head.” 

“They’re gonna hate me forever.” Dot cried as she fell into her Uncle's chest. Jake just held her in his arms as she did, letting her let it all out in a safe environment. “Oh my god poor mum–!” 

“Please for the love of god dont say poor mum to your mother kid she’ll have me castrated on site.” Jake chuckles as he kissed his niece's forehead. “And no darlin, they could never ever hate you.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

When Dot does arrive home the next day, Jake is dropping her off with a hangover that makes him question his own morals. Odettes almost as bad as Jake, she's wearing sunglasses because the suns far too bright and her head is pounding like crazy. 

“Hey Dot?” Jake's groaning, letting his head rest against the steering wheel of his wifes swift. 

“Yeah?” 

“Start pulling your head in before I shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll taste my shoe.” 

“On it–” Dots groaning back, she feels like death. But the self pity drinking she’d done with her Uncle late into the night wasn't going to help her now when she had to face her parents. So, she's fronting a brave face, dragging her feet through the threshold of the front door and into an eerily silent home she wasn't used to. She spots Riley at the dining table doing her homework. “Where is everyone?” 

“Nicks at soccer practice, it's Monday.” Riley doesn't even look up from what she's doing. “Not that you'd care anywhere, dad and I just got back from the beach because the swell was up.” 

“What about mum?” Dot mumbles as she drops her stuff, heading in the direction of the stairs. Riley just sighs, she's still mad at her older sister for making you cry. 

“Mums been in bed all day.” Guess Uncle Jake wasn't the only one who called in for a sick day. “Dad said she just needed a day to be by herself.” 

“Seems fair enough—“ Is all Dot manages to mumble as Riley looks at her like she doesn’t know who her sister is anymore. 

“Hey Odette?” 

“Hmm?” Dot looked over her shoulder. 

“Dad told me and Nick last night you have a different dad than us.” Riley confessed as she stood up from her spot at the dining table, collecting her work before she made her way over to the staircase that Dot had already started walking up. “And if you’re gonna keep treating him like he hasn’t been the best dad ever then I’m glad you aren’t really his.” Dot’s stunned to hear her twelve year old sister say something so confronting, but she knows she deserves it. 

“Thanks Rils, I’m sorry—“ 

“Don’t say you're sorry to me.” Riley sighs, stomping up the stairs with her homework. “Say you’re sorry to mum and dad.” 

Which is what Odette does. But it’s not an easy feat. She knocks on your bedroom door and there’s no answer. When she pushed the door open slowly? Odette is met with a darkness she’s never really seen your room shrouded in before. You and Bradley always seemed to have the curtains drawn—but right now? Dots stepping into your depression pit. Finding you still in your pyjamas, in the middle of the bed laying on your side, still teary eyed and full of sadness because this all could have been avoided if you’d just stuck to your guns and told her no. Or told her the truth for that matter. 

“Mum?” Bradley’s in the bathroom trimming his moustache, he can hear Dot talking apprehensively before she shuts the door behind her. “Mum, can I talk to you for a minute?” 

Bradley’s heart breaks a little more inside his chest when he doesn’t hear you answer, he hadn’t seen you like this since right after everything happened. The version of you who laid in the middle of the bed without speaking a peep all day was the same version of you Bradley Bradshaw first met when he came face to face with you in the threshold of Jake Seresin home when he’d come to check on him. The broken version. 

“I spoke with Uncle Jake—“ Oh fuck this can’t be good. Bradley thought to himself as Dot crawled up the bed into your arms. Nuzzling into you as Bradley stepped out of the bathroom with a towel slung low on his hips and a half shaved moustache. “He told me everything, about what happened—“ 

And with that you're bursting into tears, Bradley dips a knee on the bed as he leans in to hold you, but all you do is hold onto Odette a little tight as she cries with you too, hiding her head in your chest. 

“I’m so sorry—“ You sob, kissing her forehead. “I never wanted you to have to know.”

“No I’m glad I know, I’m so fucking sorry mum, dad—“ 

“You’re so grounded—“ You chuckle out through a whimper, still kissing Dot's cheek. “Like forever.” All Odette does is hug you tighter, accepting her punishment without a single complaint. 

“I expected that.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~****~***

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[celticjade13]

I started reading IceMav after seeing Top Gun: Maverick. I didn't ship characters when I was younger, so seeing the first movie didn't trigger any IceMav feelings. (This also happened to me with Star Wars. Maybe an ace/aro thing?) So I'm new into the fandom, but y'all, I have some questions after going through fic on AO3.

Firstly, do fic authors know that DADT didn't exist until 1993? I've seen a handful of fics that address this but the policy in 1986 (the year of the first movie) was dishonorable discharge if you were caught. I see a lot of references to DADT in the 80's, and while it was absolutely a terrible policy, I can assure you the policy before it was way worse. I feel like this is linked to a lot of baby gays not knowing queer history. I posted last spring about a Target salesperson not knowing that the black t-shirt with a pink triangle saying, "Silence = death," was referencing the AIDS crisis. History isn't as far back as you think it is, kids.

Secondly, and completely unrelated to the previous thing, Tom Cruise is short. Kind of. He's actually the perfect height for a real-life fighter pilot and he's basically short compared to the absolute giants that are most other Hollywood stars. I understand fanfic's desire to want to capitalize on the size difference between Ice & Mav. But OMG, Maverick is a fighter pilot. (Naval aviator, whatever.) He's a badass. He lost Goose and he's got a rough relationship with Rooster, and I really only read fanfic where Ice lives, so we don't have to worry about that. And the Navy hasn't exactly been at the cutting edge of mental health treatment at any point in their history*, but he's really woobified in fic. I mean, I see it, fandom loves to take the small character who's been through the emotional wringer and turn it up to 11, but good goddamn, y'all, he's still Maverick. He's still arrogant and a smartass and has Tom Cruise's smile and flies fighter jets for the Navy.

So here's the crux of the matter: Are these developments from the recent influx after TG:M? Or have these been around since the first film? (I feel like anyone around during the first film knows DADT wasn't a thing because those letters in that order wouldn't even have meant anything until the early 90's.)

*A friend's parents were career officers in the Navy before retiring so she & her sister could spend all 4 years in one high school instead of moving partway through. Her mom was a nurse. One sailor came through the hospital/medical station/wherever and was given an evaluation. Sailor mentioned he slept with a weed wacker under his bed. Doctor asked why. Sailor said at night, the weed wacker came out and told him what to do the next day. Sailor was sent home very quickly after that. I asked how he even got into the Navy & my friend shrugged. This is the US military, y'all.

[pilvimarja]

🔥= smutty ‼️= read the warnings 😭 = emotional ❣️= fluffy and sweet ✅️ = completed

Mach 10.5 by proprioception, explicit, bottom Maverick ❣️🔥✅️

Rooster's breath was heavier than it had any reason to be, other than that he was living out a fantasy twenty years in the making. "Bradley," Maverick finally said, his voice strangely thin, "you should kiss me again." "Should I?" Rooster murmured lowly into his ear. Or: Rooster doesn't know when to quit. Neither does Maverick.

His Best Boy by emseebeans, explicit 🔥✅️

Considering that Bradley is more or less an oversized puppy, wiggly and doe-eyed and eager at all times to make Maverick happy, it’s not really surprising that he wants to play at being one in bed.

When I'm Sixty-Four by Brenda, teen ❣️✅️

Bradley's having a birthday crisis. Mav helps him through it.

For The Birds - For Keeps by ParseLey, explicit, omegaverse, bottom Bradley ‼️✅️

Pete is in the basement, locked in the cramped half bath in the far back corner. He’s staring at the silicone casting kit in his hands, reading the instructions once more before he starts. It seems fairly straightforward. He bought the alpha version of the kit – almost twice as expensive as the beta version – because it advertised a larger plastic tube with an additional flared section at the base to accommodate his knot. It comes with more of the moulding powder, too, and extra silicone mixture. Along the top of the kit, there’s some cheery font that declares FUN FOR PARTNERS! Pete grimaces. He doubts his and Bradley’s relationship is what the makers of the kit had in mind.

I lost where I was goin' 'cause I forgot where I came from by FuddleWuddle, explicit, bottom Maverick ❣️🔥✅️

Five different sexual experiences Bradley has that are intrinsically linked to Mav, and one time he knows what it's like to make love.