#top gun maverick halloween

[niobe-loreley]

Smells Like Halloween Spirit [tg:m]

Dagger Squad + Reader

Belated Happy Halloween!! Gaaah, I'm so late! Hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick, its characters, or plot. I do not own the pictures of the cast. I only own the reader's character/nickname, the fic's banner, and the story of this one-shot.

pictures credit to @fanboygarcia

warnings: the word count. haunted hospital. spooky. reader nickname. platonic reader. slight bobnix. organized ghost hunting. paranormal evidence. comedy if you eat halloween candy while reading.

wordcount: 5k You/Reader = Burton

SUMMARY: you invited the Dagger Squad to hunt for ghosts at an abandoned hospital. They only agreed because you threatened to go there by yourself; plus, you have an awesome paranormal hunting game plan, it’ll be a shame not to test it out. But you know some of them are already regretting their decisions after seeing the spooky building. Especially Fanboy, since he gets to venture alone (lucky him).

20:15

"Do we really have to do this?"

Inquisitive, quivering words from a non-spooky person. You finish putting batteries in your flashlight and look over to them with a wolfish grin. "C'mon, Fanboy, where's your Halloween spirit?" you quip merrily.

"It left when I pulled the shortest straw," he snaps, arms crossed.

“I told you we can switch.” you say.

“Yeah, but they won’t let you.” Fanboy shoots daggers at Rooster and Hangman. He huffs as he playfully bumps you with his hip, “And as if I’ll really let you go in there alone, Burton. No matter how much you like creepy stuff.”

You playfully pinch his cheek. “Oh, you’re so sweet, Micks!” you coo and shove him away, “Now, the game plan!”

Since the teams/pairs have already been established, you begin the briefing of the assigned roles and location, as well as a few reminders.

“Everyone knows and understand their roles and locations?" you inquire.

They give you a scattered response, so you viciously bark at them— "Hey, I asked a question!"

"Yes, ma'am!!!"

"Good.. now, listen well to these reminders."

While everyone keeps their eyes and brains open, Bob jots down your crucial reminders in ghost hunting.

“Always wear your face mask and gloves on. It’s an abandoned hospital, we don’t want any microbes or tetanus now, don’t we?”

“Keep comms on. As much as I want to capture paranormal sounds, it is imperative we contact each other every 5 minutes. But the Getaway Squad will contact us every 12 minutes.”

“Have your baseball bats at the ready at all times. But please be certain before you swing, or else we’ll send each other to the hospital.”

“The Getaway Squad is our foundation. As soon as they call for help, we all go.”

“If any one of the paired teams needs help, inform Maverick or Coyote immediately so they can contact the other squads assigned to them.”

“Got it?" you regard each of them, "Answer me or I'll force you all to go alone in there— yes, even the Getaway Squad."

"Understood, ma'am!!!"

The Investigator squads soon bid their goodbyes to the Getaway duo. Firing up your phone, you begin recording as you excitedly lead them into the hospital. Cautiously stepping through the broken glass doors, you halt at the middle of the lobby and turn to your friends. "Welcome, one and all, to an abandoned hospital!" you exclaim, listening to your voice bounce around the first floor.

Fritz, Halo, Omaha, and Payback choruses a whoop; Rooster, Yale, Harvard, Bob, and Phoenix applauds; Hangman whistles like he's in a soccer game; while Fanboy crosses his arms and grumbles.

"Okay, this is the meetup point." you gesture to the darkness around you, which is briefly illuminated by your headlamp. You then point to a map on wall, directing your phone camera as well. "There are still coherent maps around if your squad gets lost. So, to those in charge of your squad's comms, make sure to always let your location be known during the 5-minute and 12-minute check-ins."

"This is the most organized ghost hunting ever," Phoenix comments, amazed.

You curtsy. "Best be prepared for anything. Plus, no matter how organized it is.. if any of us sees something paranormal, panic will spread like COVID-19."

Everyone regards Fanboy in unison. "Why the hell are you all looking at me?" he yells, frowning.

You laugh. "Even though we might not stay calm in those situations, I would still advise everyone to stay calm. Is that clear?"

"Crystal!!"

"Okay, let's do a short pop quiz to calm our nerves!"

"Pop quizzes irritate me," Fanboy remarks.

"Then stick with that feeling when you're ghost hunting later!" you beam, "Better to be vexed than frightened!— Now, first question.. what's the appearance of the camera person in a squad?"

Bob's hand shoots up. "They're wearing a headlamp, carrying an extra flashlight, and holding the camera all throughout the investigation!"

"Correct!" you give him a thumbs-up, "Second question.. why do we need to separate into teams?"

Halo answers this time. "So that we can explore every nook and cranny while having each other's backs!"

"Nice!— Third, why do we need baseball bats?"

Surprisingly, Hangman is the one to answer next. "To whack the shit out of any ghosts or hobos who threaten our safety."

You and everyone else stare at him in deadpan. He stares back confusedly, saying that he's right.

"In short, for protection." Rooster chimes in.

"Title of your sex tape," Hangman scoffs.

"Thank you, gentlemen." you interject before a royal rumble can start and ruin the paranormal investigation.

The pop quiz continues for another five minutes. You then turn the camera around while the group stands behind you. "We'll be starting our Halloween ghost hunting!" you announce enthusiastically, "Hands in!"

All of you huddle up and place your hands together in the center. "One.. two.. three— GO DAGGERS!"

"Meetup back here in one hour!" you remind, leading your teammates and the other teams to the stairwell.

"Why's it gotta be an hour?" Fanboy cries.

"C'mon, Fanboy, we'll stay with you until the entrance to the East wing." Bob claps him on the shoulder.

"Will you switch with me?"

"No." says Phoenix.

"Aww, worried for your boyfie—" Fanboy croaks in pain after receiving a punch to the gut.

"Say one more thing and we'll take your flashlights."

5th Floor | 21:03

"See you three on the other side!" Fritz waves as he and Halo enter the 4th floor.

"Be careful!" you call and proceed up the staircase.

"So many stairs," Rooster groans.

"How much candy did you eat to still have that energy, Burton?" Hangman asks, huffing and puffing.

You chuckle. "That's between me and my stomach."

Soon, the three of you reach the 5th floor. Hangman offers to push the door open when it only budges two inches. But you tell him it's better for Rooster to help you since Hangman is their safety officer / weapon carrier.

"Shall we start on the rooftop? That way we'll just be exploring the 5th floor for the rest of the hour." you suggest, taking a gander around the blackness.

Rooster shrugs. "Why n—?"

He's cut off by a sudden sound. 

With how quiet the abandoned hospital is, a rattling from somewhere in the floor appears as though it's right next to them. "What the fuck was that?!" Rooster whispers, wildly looking around.

"Backs against each other!" you instruct, and the guys oblige.

"Sounds like it came from there," Hangman tips his flashlight towards the west wing.

"Where? Let's move our circle around so I can get it on camera," you start sidestepping, Rooster and Hangman follows suit.

"It's probably just the wind," says Hangman.

"The wind?" Rooster glances at him incredulously.

"Or a rat," you add, zooming the video to the end of the hall, where the flashlight of both your headlamp and phone barely reaches.

"A rat? I thought you believed in ghosts?" Rooster questions shakily.

"Yeah, I do, but I'm a logical believer." you're now zooming in at doorways, trying to capture anything moving (or peeking). "We have to think realistic when ghost hunting, not just believe that every clink or clank is a ghost, doy!"

Hangman snickers. "Scared, Rooster?"

Rooster scoffs. "You wish, bitch."

You swivel around to face them. "Can you two try that one more time but with a British accent and pretend your flashlights are wands?"

"Or maybe you know a spell to make Bradshaw less scared?" Hangman quips, whirling the baseball bat around.

"Why don't you just kiss him?" you retort.

"I thought you're on my side." Hangman frowns.

"I'd rather side with the ghosts." you sashay away to the map on the wall next to the reception desk. "C'mon, the stairs to the roof are straight across here."

You round the reception desk and enter the main corridor dividing the west and east wing; Rooster and Hangman swiftly strides at each of your sides. There's a low groan that attracts your attention back to the reception desk. Looking over your shoulder, you point the camera and notice the stairwell door is halfway closed— when you and Rooster pushed it all the way open earlier.

4th Floor | 21:08

Coats of blackness are periodically vanquished by Fritz's flickering headlamp. He and Halo have ceased their venture to try and fix the device, they're in a lounge area at the east wing.

"No way Burton didn't put fresh batteries in that," says Halo.

"Then, what? I'm being haunted?" Fritz makes ghostly sounds, snorting.

She frowns. "I'm just saying.. it's unlikely the headlamp is broken or has old batteries."

The pair were walking in every room that's open, looking around for any paranormal signs, Fritz aggressively asking the ghosts to show themselves, before moving to the next room. It was after the ninth room they've been in when his headlamp starts acting up.

Fritz is sitting on a single couch with his phone propped against a vase on the coffee table. While Halo is standing between the table and a sofa as she’d rather not have her back turned to the darkness.

"This should do it," Fritz murmurs, taking the batteries out and putting them back in.

"Ingenious.."

"Thanks," says Fritz.

"What?" Halo blinks at him.

He chuckles. "It's only the two of us, Halo. Don't be embarrassed about complimenting me."

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

"You just said ingenious."

She furrows her brows. "I wasn't saying anything until you said thanks out of the blue."

Fritz and Halo share an astounded look, everything going quieter and darker than it already is, until he doubles over with laughter. "Nice try, angel." he snorts, securing the headlamp shut, he slips it on his head and powers it up. "Vióla!"

“Don’t point it at me,” Halo turns away, eyes squinting until they widen abruptly. She swivels and directs her flashlight to where was looking, “Who’s there?! Seresin, I swear to God..!”

Fritz jumps to his feet. “What? What?!”

Halo gulps. “I thought I saw somebody in that room.. same height as Hangman.” and bobs her chin towards the room adjacent to the lounge. “But it was too shadowy…”

“It’s just your shadow,” Fritz sighs exasperatedly, grabbing his phone.

“How could it be my shadow when I’m right here and there’s no mirror to reflect it over there?!” Halo snaps, pointing from the wall behind her to the room across.

Fritz feels his scalp sweating. “Fair point. But I’m not checking that out— have you watched Wrong Turn? And if there’s some insane, experimented freak as tall as Hangman, I ain’t confronting it.”

Halo rolls her eyes. “Would you rather we still go around the floor not knowing if there’s something in that room or not?”

“Well, I’m certain there’s nothing in that room.”

“You just said that there may be a cannibal in there.”

“And if there was, I ain’t walking into its trap.”

“You fucking— shit! Fritz! There it is! Quick, the camera!”

3rd floor | 21:10

Team 4 / The 3rd Floor Squad are either somewhat enjoying their time or trying to preoccupy their thoughts instead of thinking that something lurks in the dark besides their shadows. 

Payback frequently hits the doorframes of every room they pass with the baseball bat. Sometimes, he’d even pretend to kick down an imaginary door and yell— “FBI” —while pointing the bat into the room as though it’s a gun. Meanwhile, Omaha is narrating everything he’s recording on his phone, down to the last rusted doorknob. He would also turn the camera to him and Payback from time to time, telling any “ghosts” to take a selfie with them before he snaps a photo.

“Have you had any.. paranormal shit happen to you?” Payback inquires, glancing over his shoulder.

“A few when I was young. But they were only told to me by my family, I don’t really remember them.” Omaha shrugs, “So I don’t really believe them. How about you?”

Payback sighs. “None,” and raps the bat on a closed door thrice. “That’s why I’m excited to see some ghosts tonight. Burton sure knows how to make Halloween more fun.”

Omaha nods in agreement. “Burton is the go-to when it comes to spooky stuff.”

“I hope this becomes an annual event for the squad.”

“Fanboy would disagree.”

The pair roars out laughing in unison, slightly drowning a knock, which Omaha somewhat catches. “Hey, what was that?” he stops laughing, pointing his camera to the closed room they passed. “I heard a knock over there.”

“That was me earlier, dude.” Payback says in between laughs.

“No, we were laughing and there was a knock.”

“Ooh~ somebody finally answered my knocks!”

Omaha brusquely shushes him, steps up to the door, and brings up his fist to slowly knock twice. The sound bleeds into the room and echoes around the hallway hauntingly. Payback shakes his head, looks around, and can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched.

“Hello?” Omaha calls, glancing at Payback.

[“Hey, you guysssss!”]

“Jesus—!” Omaha jumps back like a cat dumped with water.

[“What’s the situation on the 3rd floor? Over.”] Coyote’s normal voice crackles through the transceiver in Payback’s hand.

Omaha snarls. “Fuck you, Machado!” and stomps back to Payback.

Payback snickers, pressing the ‘talk’ button on the device. “Nothing much.. but you just scared the living shit out of Omaha. Over.”

[“Whoops. Sorry, didn’t mean to. Over.”]

“Yeah, you better be sorry!” Omaha snatches the transceiver, “I thought a ghost or some shit responded when I said hello!— Over!”

Coyote laughs. ["Are you mad because you didn't hear a response? Or because you thought you heard one? Over."]

"Neither! Over!"

"Anyway," Payback snatches the transceiver back, "We're at the.. west wing, finishing up on Room 3-A11 to 3-A20 corridor. Over."

["Copy that. Stay frosty. Over and out."]

"It's still 21:14.. what do we do when we sweep the whole floor and still have time left?" Omaha asks, eyeing the closed door sideways.

"Weren't you listening? Burton said to find a place on the floor that we think is the creepiest and attempt contact there," Payback says and pockets the transceiver.

"Oh, right, right.."

"Let's hussle."

When Payback and Omaha are out of earshot, scratches can be heard from behind the closed door of Room 3-A17. Two soft knocks follow, along with a gentle response in the voice of a little boy.

2nd Floor | 21:21

"I can't believe you're still Team Christopher!"

"I can't believe you won't respect my ship!"

"That's because you said Luke doesn't deserve Lorelai!"

"And I still stand by it!"

Harvard shortly lets out an exasperated yell. While roaming around the 2nd floor's east wing, Yale and Harvard have made a silent agreement to chat in order to think about anything else other than walking around a haunted hospital. TV show after TV show they exchange titles and plots, and even comment on a show that they both have watched. 

It's a great bonding experience, if they're being honest. 

However, a difference in opinion regarding Gilmore Girls couples has induced a heated kerfuffle.

Their team has yet to encounter anything paranormal. It’s possible the ghosts were disturbed and decided to move to a different floor. Yale likes to encourage that thought to ignore the occasional chill enveloping the back of his neck. Harvard, on the other hand, thinks there’s a cobweb on his shoulder whenever he feels a little weight on it before brushing it off.

In the back of both men’s minds, a terrifying thought remains: what if the ghosts on this floor decide to bother them since they loudly invaded their premises?

With such an oppressive notion, it’s hard for Harvard and Yale to contemplate that their minds may be playing tricks on them. Or that it’s just them feeling such spectral stirrings.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Yale scoffs out of the blue, puffing his chest out, he takes a gander with his phone. “And I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”

Harvard heaves a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Mind over matter, pleb.”

“You’re scum.”

“You’re a joke.”

“Says the jester.”

“You fucking—!”

“....”

Yale cuts himself off, sharing a wide-eyed look with Harvard, he pans the camera around. “Did you fucking hear that?!” he whispers panickedly.

Harvard gulps. “It sounded like it was behind you.”

“Bitch, don’t say that!” Yale shrieks, blanching from head to toe. “Let’s stand back-to-back!” 

They press their backs against each other, eyeing every direction for any threat. Harvard adjusts the angle-head flashlight hooked on his jean pocket and hoists the baseball bat up. Yale tries to hold his phone still and picks up debris from the ground, ready to yeet it at anything that may pop up in their faces.

“Burton, if you’re pranking us, please stop!” Yale laughs shakily.

“She would never.” Harvard shakes his head, “It’s probably either Hangman or Fritz.”

“Show yourselves, pussies!”

“Can you elaborate that it’s our friends who are the pussies and not the ghosts?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts, okay?!”

“And if there are, my friend over here is insulting our friends not you!”

“Sshhh..”

Harvard glares at Yale over his shoulder. “Don’t shush me, bro!”

“That,” Yale is trembling, “That wasn’t me, bro.”

1st Floor, West Wing | 21:30

“Did you hear that?”

Phoenix turns away from the room she’s inspecting. “Yeah.. probably just the dipshits jumping at their shadows.” she smirks, inclining her head sideways. “I’m surprised you’re cool, calm, and collected.”

“Burton and I actually bond over paranormal things,” says Bob sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah.. you two were watching those top 5 ghosts caught on camera videos a few days ago.”

“Yeah, we were.”

“You know most of those are fake, right?”

“Of course.. but it’s entertaining and creepy, which— as Burton would say— is a fun combination for a good time.”

Phoenix laughs and nods approvingly. “Definitely her ingredients for a nice cup of tea.”

The pair have been meticulously traversing the west wing of the 1st floor, scanning every room from ceiling to wall to floor.  Phoenix is a skeptic to the paranormal, more concerned about real people rather than the apparitions of dead ones. While Bob shows concern for both. People have dubbed him as a scaredy-cat for how “soft” he is for a man, which Phoenix scoffs at and tells them that he can watch the Saw movies while eating spaghetti without his eyes leaving the screen.

He and Burton are extraordinary beings, Phoenix respects the two of them equally in and out of fighter jets. As she pans her phone around the darkness, she can’t help but think she’d be lying if she said this isn’t the best time to spend Halloween. Organizedly hunting for ghosts with friends absolutely captures the spooky season’s essence.

“Hey, Phoenix—”

“Pretty bird…”

She swivels around, scrutinizing the corridor they just walked out of. “What was that? Was that you?” she questions, synapses firing fear to her every nerve at the sudden voice that was neither from her nor her partner. She composes herself with a quiet breath in and out.

“No, it wasn’t me.” Bob shakes his head, taking a gander, he raises the baseball bat.

“Hello?” Phoenix calls out, strong yet wary. “Anyone there?”

There’s no answer.

“Maybe it’s just the wind,” she suggests.

Bob gulps. “It’s possible.”

The pair restarts their gait, moving cautiously now, until they halt outside the morgue. Phoenix peers in, the blackness recedes from the light of her headlamp and phone, and she takes two steps in.

“Careful,” Bob says, entering sideways, he keeps his back to the wall and glances out of the corridor.

“Ugh! Smell that?” Phoenix coughs, “The facemask is not helping at all.”

“Do you think there’s still dead bodies in there?” Bob nods toward the mortuary fridges.

Phoenix jabs him on the shoulder. “Why would you think that, doofus?” she sighs exasperatedly, “But to answer your question, no.. this smell is not of a decomposed body. I know because my sister is a mortician.”

“There's probably a dead animal in here. Let’s go,” Bob gently grabs her elbow, leading her out of the room.

Three steps out, they cease as a humming from inside the morgue freezes their spines.

1st Floor, East Wing | 21:33

“Yeahhh~ I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road. I’m gonna.. riiiide ‘til I can’t no more~”

Fanboy continues to sing as he marches around the pool area. His cautious footfalls ricochet around the empty vicinity, like slow, rhythmic clapping. He shortly tightens his grip on the baseball, relaxing after a deep breath in and out, he adjusts his phone on the breastpocket of his jacket. It’s as though he’s fated to explore the haunted hospital on his own, wearing a jacket with too many pockets enough to attach ten angle-head flashlights (but he only has one on the right breastpocket since he’s already wearing a headlamp).

The east wing of the 1st floor isn’t as noisy as Fanboy. Sure, there’s the occasional gust of late October wind, inducing scraping and rattling noises, and the momentary groan of the old building. Other than those, nothing has bothered him, and he has bothered nothing.

No doors swinging on their own.

No whispers in the wind.

No shadows leaping away from the light.

No—

Footsteps behind him.

Fanboy quickly spins around, ready to swing. “Who’s there?!” he demands when he finds no one. “Hello!?”

[“Fanboy, this is Bob. Do you read me? Over.”]

“Fuck,” he flinches at the transceiver crackling and fishes it out of his jean pocket. “Fanboy here, I read you Bob. Over.”

[“Where are you?” Over.]

“At the pool.. but on my way out since I’ve already circled it.”

[“You didn’t check the locker rooms?”]

“No way I’m going in there, Jose.”

Bob laughs. [“Okay, okay.. we’ve got something mind-blowing, Fanboy. You probably won’t believe this, but we heard someone humming in the morgue. Over.”]

“Are you sure it wasn’t the wind? Over.”

[“No, it definitely wasn’t—”]

[“..Hmmm…”]

Phoenix’s gasp shoots out of the transceiver. [“There it is again!”]

[“Did you hear that, Fanboy? Over.”] Bob asks.

“Guys, please, this was supposed to be a check-in. Not a prank! Over!” Fanboy shouts, hastening his pace to the doors.

[“It’s not a prank. Over.”] says Phoenix.

“Whatever—”

Fanboy freezes from opening the door, and once he hears it again, he slowly turns back to the pool area, where footsteps are echoing from. “H-Hello?” he sputters, trying to illuminate every inch of the premises at once, still he finds no one but himself and the darkness.

Hushed footsteps respond to his call, then soon they become rapid, as though the owner is running. And when the footsteps become louder, Fanboy realizes it’s coming nearer— heading right for him.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Parking Lot | 21:36

With nothing else to do, other than contacting the ghost hunters every 12 minutes, and nothing else to discuss.. Coyote invites Maverick to play a mobile game with him.

He offers to the older naval aviator the infamous Two-Player Games. The app consists of a variety of games from sports, board games, and children’s games— but make it all virtual. 

Coyote regrets challenging their most-favorite instructor.. because Maverick has won every round. And he owes him a week’s worth of drinks at the Hard Deck.

They have just finished a game of tag, wherein Maverick has held the crown the longest. “How are you beating me?” Coyote is stupidly, exasperatedly baffled.

Maverick lifts a shoulder. “Apparently, instincts can age like fine wine.. kind of like me.”

“Wow, poetic.” Coyote remarks flatly, but he can’t hold being monotonous for long and shares a laugh with Maverick.

The haunted hospital’s parking lot is pitch black if it weren’t for the cloudless sky that freely lets the moon highlight the darkened parts of the Earth. The getaway squad hasn’t experienced anything paranormal, probably because music is slightly blaring from the car’s radio. They decide to let the car run after the first 12-minute check-in— obviously, for emergency purposes. 

Not because they thought they spotted a black-eyed child wandering behind the treeline.

A trick of the moonlight and probably just a wild animal, as Maverick reassures.

“Team 2, check-in. Over.” Coyote lifts his finger off the button.

[“Team 2, checking in. We’re near the morgue. Over.”]

“Thanks, Bob.” Coyote pauses, “Fanboy, check-in. Over.”

Fanboy screams through the device. [“COYOTE! HELP!”]

The getaway squad exchange looks. “Fanboy, what’s happening?” Coyote asks puzzled, “Are you okay? Over.”

[“SOMETHING’S FUCKING CHASING ME!”]

[“Fanboy, where are you? Phoenix and I will meet up with you. Over.”] Bob chimes in.

[“I don’t know— I don’t fucking know! Shit!”]

“We should help him,” Coyote begins gathering his things.

“Wait, we can’t leave our post.” says Maverick.

“But—”

He claps Coyote on the shoulder. “Let’s move the car right outside the hospital.” and climbs in the driver seat in a flash, “Contact everyone else about the situation.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Damnit, where is he?” Phoenix pants, waving her phone around, which is still recording, to highlight every corridor.

“Follow the screaming?” Bob suggests and glances behind them.

“Contact him—”

“AAAHHHHH!!”

They exchange wide-eyed looks and rush to where the screaming resounds from. Beams from their artificial lights bounce around the hospital’s blackness like a signal of a rave party. The first floor of the hospital is teeming with their urgent footfalls, echoing from one hallway into another.

“Fanboy!” Phoenix hollers, “I swear if this is a prank..!”

She and Bob round a corner, stopping at the sight of Fanboy bolting through the corridor, they sigh in relief.

“Hey, you’re okay—”

“JUST RUN!” Fanboy bursts past them.

“The hell, man?!” Phoenix yells at him.

“What’s that?” Bob narrows his eyes at the corridor, hearing another set of footfalls.

“What’s what?— BOB!” Phoenix explodes when her backseater suddenly carries her onto his shoulder. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I’ll ask for permission later!”

She lightly elbows the back of his head. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Someone was running towards us.” Bob blurts out, evading every debris in the way. “But I couldn’t see it.”

Phoenix looks back to the corner of the corridor— heart dropping at the sight of a shadowed head peeking out. She raises her phone and still sees it through the camera.

“Holy fuck… Bob, go faster.”

Bob obliges, pumping his legs like The Flash, and catches up to Fanboy’s side. Neither of them look back as they hurtle out of the hospital, even Phoenix has kept her eyes down but continues to direct her phone towards their rear.

“What the hell happened?” you ask, strolling out of the hospital with Hangman and Bradley.

“Something was chasing me!” Fanboy cries.

“Something?” you repeat, gesturing for him to continue, you stand at the top of the steps.

“Maybe it was a rat,” Fritz shrugs.

“A rat? After what we just saw?” Halo scoffs.

“You two saw something, too?” Phoenix asks.

“Too?” Fritz begins sweating.

Fanboy glares at him. “Why the hell would I run away from a rat?”

"Alrighty!" you loudly clap your hands five times to silence the growing squabble, "Let's focus on Fanboy for now before we all share our encounters, okay?"

They scatteredly murmur in agreement, you thank them and turn to Fanboy. Just as you're about to interrogate him, you hear a rustle and look over to the entrance. "Heard that?" you ask, pointing your camera to the direction. "It sounded like shoes stepping on glass."

The color on Fanboy's face drains. "Can we get out of here first?" he asks pleadingly.

"I concur," Maverick nods, "I'm getting an unpleasant vibe now that I'm up close to the hospital."

You pout. "But the hospital in the background while we exchange our experiences is brilliant!— Okay, okay, sorry," you quickly say when you sense Fanboy becoming livid, "We can go—"

You stumble forward, but manage to stay in place at the top of the stairs. "Really?" you pull a face at Hangman, "I said we'd go, you don't have to shove me, Seresin."

He looks stupefied. "I didn't. I was actually going to catch you 'cuz I thought you were going to trip down."

"There's a lot of witnesses here.."

"Burton," Phoenix gulps, glancing between you and Hangman. "He didn't touch you."

Your arm moves up on its own. For a second, you think your reflexes have ordered your body to smack Hangman. But that isn't the case.

You let out a yelp while everyone else shouts your name and chases after you. Someone— something unseen is yanking you back to the hospital.

Rooster and Hangman grab hold of you first since they're the closest. Whatever that was pulling you has ceased. "Start the car!" Phoenix yells to Coyote, who snaps out of his stupor and jumps in the driver seat.

Half of the squad clambers in the van while the other half hauls you to follow suit. "Floor it!" Fanboy screams at the top of his lungs, sitting at the rearrest seats, accidentally looking back at the hospital. "I said— FLOOR IT!"

"Wait!" Maverick yells and swiftly does a headcount from the passenger seat, "Everyone's here?"

"Yes!!!" The rest of Dagger Squad yells back.

"So that person by the window near the entrance is not one of us?"

Dagger Squad looks over instinctively. A woman in white is standing by the window, eyes boring straight into each of theirs.

"Of fucking course not— DRIVE!" Fritz shrieks, closing his eyes.

Coyote has practically made the van soar as he drives all of them away from the haunted hospital. No one complains about the first bumpy minutes, everyone is more than glad to have distance between them and the hauntedness.

“OKAY! I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE RELIGION OR NOT, AND IF YOU’RE RELIGIOUS OR NOT—" Fanboy bellows, "—WE’RE GOING TO A CHURCH RIGHT FUCKING NOW AND GET BLESSED BY A REVEREND WITH HOLY WATER AND WEAR ROSARIES FOR A WEEK!”

You roar with laughter. “Now, that’s the Halloween spirit!”

A/N: IF THERE'S SOMETHING STRANGE~ IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD~ WHO YOU GONNA CALL?! gosh im so late asdfghjklqwertyuiopzxcvbnm i think this is the first Top Gun fic i posted? altho i actually already made 3 chapters for a Rooster x Reader dagnabbit

[almondcroissantsandink]

they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery :)

(a silly 4-pg comic I've loosely titled Seeing Double, for fun! I know it's only mid-September, but I'm so so so getting into the Halloween mood)

[heartsofminds]

my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.” 

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have. 

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him. 

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing. 

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be. 

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?” 

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.” 

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used. 

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.” 

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan. 

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving. 

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options. 

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more. 

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt. 

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is. 

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman. 

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop. 

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him. 

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.” 

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs. 

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed. 

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that? 

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy. 

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once. 

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.” 

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go. 

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason. 

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans. 

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.” 

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?” 

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.” 

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”  

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her. 

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him. 

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.” 

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year. 

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry. 

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl. 

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort. 

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.” 

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.” 

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks. 

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures. 

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be. 

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid). 

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox. 

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms. 

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?” 

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears. 

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair. 

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs. 

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?” 

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick. 

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” 

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween. 

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.” 

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated. 

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is. 

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest. 

God, this girl is so dramatic. 

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness. 

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.” 

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can. 

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why. 

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.” 

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby. 

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.” 

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him. 

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.” 

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return. 

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.” 

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up. 

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.” 

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle. 

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends. 

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him. 

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue. 

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them. 

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion. 

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?” 

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.” 

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?” 

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!” 

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.” 

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –” 

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend. 

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar. 

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up. 

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew. 

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face. 

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper  “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there. 

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice. 

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight. 

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed. 

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night. 

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello. 

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume. 

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley. 

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak. 

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?” 

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween. 

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy. 

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet. 

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.” 

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows. 

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.  

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm. 

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!” 

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize. 

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically. 

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.” 

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head. 

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in. 

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley. 

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened. 

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles. 

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her. 

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.” 

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.” 

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in. 

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead. 

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway. 

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses. 

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips. 

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.” 

“She’s what?” 

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!” 

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately. 

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him. 

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex. 

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding. 

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad. 

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position. 

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder. 

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.” 

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now? 

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.” 

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can’t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?” 

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for. 

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him. 

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself. 

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.” 

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand. 

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.” 

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father. 

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be. 

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her. 

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.” 

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews. 

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby? 

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest. 

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor. 

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017). 

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob. 

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week). 

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores. 

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention. 

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?” 

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you. 

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there. 

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that. 

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language. 

Fuck. Why do I always do this? 

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend. 

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces. 

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind. 

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.” 

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –” 

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off. 

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you? 

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”  

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use. 

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –” 

“Weird?” he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.” 

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you? 

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.” 

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you? 

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table. 

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.” 

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?” 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you. 

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it. 

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend. 

Some things just aren’t meant to be. 

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha. 

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,”  Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth. 

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth. 

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks. 

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?” 

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry. 

“You what?” 

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.” 

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?” 

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron. 

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him. 

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?” 

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact. 

“You did what?” 

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.”” 

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say. 

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.” 

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it. 

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all. 

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person. 

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain. 

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago. 

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how. 

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.” 

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you. 

[yeagrave]

halloween prepping

[ close ups below the cut + click images for better quality🫶✨ ]

[make-me-imagine]

Scaredy Cat

Request: "telling scary stories around a campfire" and she gets scared and gradually moves closer to him until she's almost on his lap and he's all cocky and everyones teasing them?? Maybe a kiss and some cuddling at the end (to ward off any lingering ghosts ofc!) < turned gn!reader

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Nothing! Though, this is not super Halloween themed, just a cute story :)

Words: 750

The cold ocean breeze blew past the fire, as a shiver crawled up your spine. You weren't sure if it was because you were cold, or if it was the story Rooster told from across the fire. His voice was low, and everyone was slouched, eyes trained on him as he recanted the story.

All you could hear was the cracking of the fire and the ocean waves rushing nearby.

In most situations you were brave, I mean, you flew military jets for a living, you got caught in fire fights, you had nearly died on more than one occasion. All of that was relatively easy for you.

But scary stories in the darkness? Apparently that was your limit.

You hadn't even realized that you had slowly been creeping closer to Jake, who had been sat beside you. He however did notice, and he was loving it.

As Rooster lunged forward with a loud yell at the climax of the story, you jumped back with a gasp. The others groaned and started laughing as Rooster cackled at the reaction his antics received.

You let out a deep sigh as you lowered your head, before you froze, when you felt Jake's breath in your ear.

"Who knew you were such a scaredy cat."

Looking up, your breath caught as you realized just how close you had gotten. In the moment you leapt back in fear, you had unknowingly grabbed Jake's arm, practically throwing yourself into his lap in fear.

"Shut up!" You whispered forcefully as you repressed an embarrassed smile as you pushed him away, though only lightly.

He grinned and you felt him wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. You felt his lips connect with your temple, as he smiled into the kiss.

Pulling away, he whispered just enough for you to hear, "Don't worry, I got you baby."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't ignore the way your heart fluttered. You and Jake hadn't been in a relationship for too long, so his flirting and teasing still affected you heavily. Though you didn't particularly mind it.

As the others slowly rose to wander back to the hotel, you and Jake lingered around the fire. Glancing back at the water, you felt goosebumps tingle up your arms as Roosters story repeated in your head. Of course he would have told a ghost story centered around the ocean, while you were sitting on a beach at night.

Jake caught your stare at the water, and he smirked before tugging at you suddenly and gasping. You flinched and let our your own gasp before he started to laugh.

Groaning, you smacked his shoulder again "Jake!' You almost whined, making him laugh even more.

You tried to pull yourself away from him in retaliation, but his grip simply tightened around you.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He apologized, but the smile was still bright on his face. "I couldn't help it, you're so cute when you're scared."

You rolled your eyes at him, "I'm not gonna be so cute when I'm drowning you, am I?"

He laughed as you continued to playfully struggled against him. But when a loud splashing was heard behind you, you both froze.

Your eyes both darted towards the water, which you could barely see in the darkness as the fire started to die out.

"What was that?"

"Fish." Jake said simply but you could hear the uneasiness of his tone.

"Right, fish."

Before your nerves could settle, you were both startled as someone ran out of the darkness with a loud yell. Yours and Jake's yells of terror where drowned out by the cackling of Rooster and Coyote as they cackled nearby.

Jake cursed at them as you held your face in your hands.

"I hate you guys." You grumbled, just loud enough for them to hear as the continued to laugh as they ran off towards the hotel, proud that their prank succeeded.

Looking up at Jake, his frown faded as you smiled at him, "Now who's the scaredy cat?" You teased.

He repressed his own smile, but you saw it tugging at his lips. "Shut up."

You giggled as you took his had in yours, "Can we go back now, before I have another heart attack?"

Hearing another loud splash in the water behind you, you both tensed as your eyes locked.

Jake quickly tugged you along, "Yep let's go."

You both jogged towards the hotel, refusing the look back at the water.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @onuen, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun/Jake Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07, @pockyandme, @iceman-kazansky, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @linkxneptune, @creativitybeware, @callsignmaverick5, @merlin-dahlia, @blueoorchid, @oliviah-25, @writerfulltime, @readingwithatorch,

@phoenix1388 (I lost part of the tag name? Is it you who requested a top gun tag??)

[cherrycruise]

happy halloween ♡🦇

[sorchathered]

Le Sang de Rêves

Vampire!Robert Floyd x OC

Chapter 1 coming soon!

——————————————————————————-

Dolly Lawrence had been having the same dream for six weeks. She was in a dark alley, and a monster stood before her. Only Dolly wasn’t the one that needed saving, the monster- he was the one in danger. It was like a tether tied their fates together, she didn’t know where he was or how to find him, but he needed her, and she couldn’t stop herself from pursuing him if she tried.

In another city, the monster wakes from his own premonition. He doesn’t know her face, but his heart stirs in his chest for the first time in a hundred years. Her soul calls to him, and he’d be a fool to ignore it.

———————————————————————————

[gothampot]

My first ever comic for the @topguntrickortreat event inspired by a prompt from @betanoiz - got some things to learn about detailing and backgrounds but I'm happy with my silly little comic :)

[thatsrightice]

F-14 FUN FACT OF THE DAY #25

There’s a reason Top Gun’s opening scene was a night carrier landing. When they talked with fighter pilots about the most harrowing and terrifying aspect of being a fighter pilot, nearly every one responded with night carrier landings. That’s because F-14 Tomcat pilots land aircraft at night with no ambient light and little to no headlights. They’d be so high on adrenaline after they’d landed that their knees (and entire body) would be shaking.

Check out this video of F/A-18 pilots landing on an aircraft carrier at night with an INSANE pitching deck due to rough seas. One pilot even shows the intensity of the shaking after their landing.

[captainmaxatx]

Daggers: *dressed up for Halloween*

Cyclone: I can’t believe I’m saying this but Maverick is the only other grown up here!

Maverick: actully I am dressed up

-points to name tag that says “admiral Simpson”-

Maverick: I’m you

Maverick mimicking cyclone: shut up, Mitchell

Cyclone: SHUT UP, MITCHELL!!

[milesdickpic]

Halloween with the Ohana | H.C |

This one is within the same universe as HLG!

click here to see the master list

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Halloween, besties! Please be safe and have a great night! 🎃

Hangman, Phoenix, and Austin decorated the inside and outside of the house for Halloween. While you, Bradley, the boys, and Leia were passed out in your bedroom.

They were all already in their costumes. Austin was Buzz Lightyear, Phoenix was Jessie, and Hangman was Woody. 

Hangman and Austin set up the front yard with webs, spiders, signs, skeletons, ghosts, and pumpkins. The arch way leading into the house was cute and fun for the trick or treaters that would come later on.

Phoenix was hard at work decorating the inside to surprise all of you for when you woke up. 

She decorated the kitchen counters with webs and skeletons. She hung spider webs, spiders and ghosts from the ceiling. She bought an illuminating globe to shine little pumpkins and ghosts on the walls. 

Hangman and Austin joined Phoenix back inside to help with desserts and games. 

Austin created a festive snack board and some worms in dirt cups for the kids.

Hangman made spooky Jell-O shots for the adults and spooky punch for the kiddies.

Phoenix blew up black balloons and put spider webbing on them to decorate the house some more. 

After Austin and Hangman finished their contributions to the party, they got together and came up with games. The created the zombie eyeball toss, pumpkin ring toss, and they set up some toilet paper for a mummy game. 

You and Bradley finally woke up and got ready for the day. You all had a family theme, Star Wars. 

You dressed as Padme, Bradley dressed as Anakin. Bradley got Leia up and got her ready. After she was ready, you and Bradley got the boys ready while Leia got Gunner ready. 

Leia was Princess Leia. Luke was dressed as Luke, baby Bradley was dressed as BB-8, and Gunner was dressed as Chewbacca. 

Leia jumped around your room in her costume. “Momma I am so excited for trick-or-treating! Can Lukey bear and Braddie come with me?” She smiled up at you as she held onto your legs. You kissed her head. “Of course, my Leia!”

Bradley carried both of the boys down stairs while you, Leia, and Gunner trialed behind. 

“WOAH!!” Leia screamed as she saw how the down stairs was decorated. She ran over to Phoenix, Hangman, and Austin giving them all hugs.

Bradley looked around at all the decor. “Damn, you guys really out did yourselves! Are we having a party?” 

“Uh, duh, Bradshaw. We have to keep the tradition up.” Hangman laughed as he showed Leia around. 

The doorbell rang and Austin went to get it. In came Phantom, dressed as Mr. Incredible, Evelyn as Elasta-girl, Kamalani as Violet, and Kaia as Dash. 

Evelyn brought over some more goodies for the party. She made pretzel witch fingers and strawberry ghosts. 

Leia screamed as the girls came through the door. “YAY! We all get to go out together!”

As the night went on more of the pilots from work started to show up for the Halloween party. Everyone was enjoying themselves. You, Bradley, Austin, Phoenix, and Hangman brought all the kids out for trick-or-treating.

You and Bradley watched on excitedly as Leia went up to every house with three pumpkins. One for her, one for Luke, and one for baby Bradley. 

“Momma! Braddie and Lukey Bears pumpkins are full!” She ran over to you and Bradley with candy falling from their pumpkins. 

Bradley took the pumpkins and started to eat the candy from them. You slapped his arm. “What babe? They’re not old enough to eat it yet. We can’t let it go to waste?” He started to laugh.

You all made it back home to out the boys down for a nap. You all rejoined the party.

You and Bradley played some of the games and mingled with your friends.

Hangman and Austin stole Bradley for a game. Everyone made teams of three. There were 6 teams. One team member was going to be a mummy while the other two team members wrapped the one in toilet paper.

Everyone had 45 seconds to make a mummy.

Once the timer started Bradley stood still as Austin and Hangman ran around him with toilet paper.

“WHY DID WE PICK THE BIGGEST DUDE TO BE THE MUMMY?” Hangman yelled as he ran around Bradley.

“You’re the one who wanted him to be it!” Austin yelled as he sprinted in circles around Bradley.

”SHUT UP AND HURRY UP, GUYS!” Bradley yelled at the both of them.

You and Phoenix laughed as you kept track of the time. “10 Seconds!” Phoenix yelled.

“SHIT!” Hangman panicked. “SHUT UP, SERESIN. THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE!” Bradley yelled at him.

“STOP!!” Phoenix yelled. You and her went and judged the mummies. Everyone was covered completely, but Bradley. He still had a human head and his arms were ripping out of the toilet paper.

“Well I know who is getting last place.” Phoenix laughed.

Bradley looked at the guys annoyed, “You guys suck!” He started to laugh. “Now take this TP off of me and re-roll it. I am not wasting this.”

The party went on and you all danced together to the Halloween playlist.

When everyone left, you, Phoenix, and Austin started to clean up the house. You didn’t know where Bradley, Hangman, and Leia were.

The three of you finally found them, Bradley and Hangman passed out under a table with Leia and candy wrappers everywhere.

You placed a kiss on Bradley and Leia’s head. “Like father, Like Daughter. Happy Halloween, Party Animals.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy Halloween, my friends! I am sorry I haven’t been posting! And I am really sorry if this sucked 😭 I have been away for a mental health clinic and I have been so drained mentally, physically, and emotionally. I promise to be posting more soon for HLG! Thank you for being here and I love you all so much! Be safe and ALWAYS CHECK YOUR CANDY!! 👻🎃❤️

Halloween Party guests are in the comments 🎃

[driftershunt]

hiiiiii!! Trick or treat! :D

HELLO BRUCE (i know that's probably not your name but. calling you that) !!! for you i have a goosemav <3

[jungle-angel]

Going as their favorite movie character for Halloween and quoting the whole film with jake! please and thank you, my dear friend!!🤍

Rachel.....it would be my utmost pleasure!!! (lol).

Penny and Mav's annual Halloween party was in full swing even as Jake helped you out of the truck, making sure that you didn't wobble in your good heels.

"M'dear you're looking gorgeous as ever," Jake remarked.

"Picked it out just for you Jake," you said before giving Jake a kiss on the cheek. "Shall we go in?"

"Don't mind if we do," Jake answered. "Of course I'd better check in about some business, last I heard Luca Brasi was sleeping with the fishes."

You snorted and tried to stifle a laugh as he led you in, Penny catching sight of you both immediately at the bar.

"Well, well, well," Penny said. "Look who it is."

"Penny m'dear, sorry for the delay," Jake apologized. "Ran into a bit of an issue with an officer in the middle of road construction."

"How'd you get out of it?" Penny asked as she mixed his rum and Coke.

"Simple," Jake answered. "I made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

Once again, you were trying not to laugh and so wasn't Penny. After having rewatched The Godfather for the umpteenth time with Jake, you were almost certain that your little couples' costume as Michael and Kay would be a flop, but soon, the two of you were getting more compliments than jabs.

"Aw shit!" Coyote exclaimed. "Somebody get me some salt and a crucifix!"

"Bro what is your deal?" Jake laughed.

"She's wearing orange!" Coyote pointed out.

You smiled slyly as you adjusted your pretty little sunhat on your head, your hair perfectly curled in that familiar 1950s style and your orange dress swaying as you danced a little.

"What Javy? You a little scared of a pretty girl in an orange dress?" Penny teased as she handed one of the customers their drink.

"Penny have ya'll not seen The Godfather?" Coyote asked.

"Lighten up Francis," Jake chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "Nobody's gonna kill you."

"You sure?"

"I don't like violence Javy," Jake quoted again. "I'm a businessman. Blood is a big expense."

Coyote rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure you'd let (y/n) do that first."

"What can I say?" Jake chuckled again. "In Sicily women are more dangerous than shotguns."

You and Penny just couldn't stop laughing. At any rate, it was going to be a very long, Halloween night.

[eternalsams]

Hey folks! I'm planning on doing something special for Halloween, I already have my idea of one-shot and all I can tell you is that it's gonna be a Jake Seresin x reader.

Now the thing is, I'm asking you if you want to be a part of the taglist or not. Reblog this if you're interested to be in and I'll make sure to tag you when I'll post it on October 31st!

[kazanskys-mitchell]

listening to danger zone dressed as mav in my car with a top gun license plate was just the perfect halloween

[make-me-imagine]

'What Happens in the Haunted House...'

13 Days of Halloween: Day 5

Plot: When going through a haunted house with the squad, you and Jake end up on your own.

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Nothing really, except a kiss towards the end.

Words: 2.k

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Your eyes darted around the space in front of you. Payback was only a few steps in front of you, and it took everything in your power not to reach out and grab onto him. You don't know how you ended up a the back of the group, with only Jake behind you, but you felt almost isolated.

Every noise made your heat jolt, and your breath catch. You weren't even half-way through the haunted house, and you were tired of it. You were annoyed at yourself for letting them drag you into this. And with every scare and scream you regretted it more and more.

You felt a small clench of your chest when you felt something come up behind you. But you hid it well when you remembered it was Jake.

As he slid into step beside you, leaning in, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. His voice was low so only you could hear him.

"There's a stopping point ahead where you can give up on the house if you need too."

"Looking for an excuse so you can leave too?" You countered as you side-eyed him.

Before he could response, a clown leapt out of the darkness and yelled, causing you to yell and jump away. Out of reflex, with Jake right beside you, you had grabbed onto his arm, pressing your head against his bicep for a moment.

Realizing, you met his gaze, and felt your heart leap when you saw him grinning at you.

"Now I think you're the one looking for an excuse."

Pulling your arms away, you stuck your tongue out at him before you jogged to catch up with the others. You heard him chuckle as you did.

---

Jake let out a breathy chuckle, ignoring how his own heart was pounding from the most recent jump scare. The actors seemed able to know you were the most afraid. Nearly every corner something jumped out at you.

After yet another scare, he watched you as you leaned over, taking a deep breath, before you straightened up.

There were two paths ahead of you, that you had now just noticed. Jake had seen the group go to the left, but knew you had not. You paused, staring at the paths, uncertain of which one to take.

Coming up behind you, he whispered in your ear, making you jump lightly "They went right."

You glared at him as he smirked at you "I know" You excused, obviously lying, as you made your way down the right path.

Jake smirked to himself as he followed you, wondering what he just gotten you into. Hoping, that somewhere along the way, you'd end up clinging onto him again. He could not ignore how much he liked it last time.

The path grew darker, fake spiderwebs draped down in front of you, as fake fog swirling around your feet. It was unusually quiet, with no music or ambient sounds playing like before.

You slowed down in your steps, allowing Jake to catch up with you.

Hearing the sound of shuffling footsteps coming from within the walls, you moved away, leaning into Jake. Hearing a loud thump that made your jump, you ended up grabbing onto him.

Looking over at him, he was smiling again and you glared. "If you tell anyone about this I'll kill you."

He smiled as he leaned closer to you "What do I get if I don't?" you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips for a moment.

You felt your heart palpitate, and for a moment forgot where you were, as your ears burned hot.

Before you could think of a reply, something ran past behind you with a screech. This time, as you yelped, you heard another noise as well. Something unusually high pitched, that came from the previously cocky blonde beside you.

There was now silence between you as you stared at each other. Jake broke the silence with a monotone voice "I wont tell anyone if you wont."

You nodded your head "Deal."

Slowly, both of your lips twitched, before curling into smiles as you laughed with each other. Continuing down the path, you still had a grasp of his arm.

"Oh, by the way." He began, softly "They went down the left path."

You paused in your step as you looked over at him "Oh, you dick."

He chuckled "What can I say, I wanted to be alone with you."

You rolled your eyes "Or you're lying and are trying to hide it by being your usual cocky self."

He shrugged his head before he spoke softly with a smile "Either way I get what I want."

Your ears were still burning, as you felt flustered at his apparent advances. You kept quiet as you continued through the haunted house, aware that another scare could come at any moment.

Even as prepared for it as you hoped you were, when a man jumped out of the darkness with a fake chainsaw, you screamed and turned to Jake, who let out a shocked yell as well.

When the man ran away with a wicked laugh, you let out a groan. After a moment of silence, you looked up, realizing you were still clasped onto Jake's shirt, and his arms were holding you against him.

When his eyes locked onto yours, you saw him about to speak.

"Shut up." You said first.

He smirked "Never."

"I'll tell everyone you scream like a little girl." You challenged.

You saw his smirk disappear. "I do not. "

"Do too."

"Do not."

At this moment, Jake spotted a small group of actors running up behind you. Quickly pulling you close to him just as they screamed and ran past the two of you. You flinched as this happened, burying your head in his chest for a moment until the actors were gone.

When they were, you slowly pulled your head away and looked up, feeling a small rush of embarrassment, knowing Jake would be staring down at you with a cocky smirk.

You were mildly surprised though, when you met his eyes, and he was looking at you with a soft smile, rather than a teasing one. Heat rose up your neck, as you also realized your faces were not very far apart, noses almost brushing, lips noticeably close.

As you gently pulled away, you mumbled out "Thank you."

His smile widened a bit "Any time."

You silently continued down the corridor, your heart pounding, and ears still burning. Rounding a corner, you were met with a thin hallway with holes in the walls. You new the purpose was to be unable to avoid the hands that would surely come through.

You let out a soft sigh, as you prepared yourself. Feeling Jake lean in close to you, he whispered "Want me to hold your hand?"

Rolling your eyes lightly, you turned your head back to face him "Why don't you go first this time? Or are you too scared?"

He smirked at you, challenging you with his gaze. Stepping past you, he purposefully keep his face close to yours as he slipped past with small smirk.

Watching as he made his way down the hall, you smiled to yourself as you began to follow him. You both let out gasps of surprise, when as you expected, various hands reached through to grab at you. You kicked your legs as you felt things brush your ankles. You were right behind Jake, silently hoping he would go faster.

Finally getting out of the hallway, you let out a relieved sigh, before you looked down another darkened room. Realizing there was still more, you let out a groan and lifted your hands in defeat.

"Oh come on, how big is this place?"

Jake chuckled, but you could tell he was getting tired of this as well. But he covered it with a smile "What? Not enjoying your time alone with me?"

"What is there to enjoy? Your constant cockiness? Your teasing and jokes?" You replied with light sarcasm.

Jake stepped closer to you, challenging you with a flirty smile. "Oh, I thought you might be enjoying grabbing onto me when you're scared. You know, the comfort of being in my arms."

"I don't need you to comfort me." You replied, trying to sound bold, but the hammering of your heart as he slowly crept closer to you was had to ignore.

"No?"

"No."

Just as you spoke, a loud clap of thunder erupted through the room, paired with the sound of screams, laughter, and flashing lights.

As you jumped in surprise and fear, Jake lunged forward, ignoring his own shock. Grabbing your face he pressed a sudden and surprisingly passionate kiss to your lips, causing you to freeze in surprise.

When the noises faded and you were left in silence again, Jake pulled away from you. His eyes met yours, as he left his hands on either side of your face.

Finally finding your voice, you spoke softly, clearly confused. "Why did you do that?"

A faint smile pulled at his lips as he shrugged his head lightly "I was trying to distract you from the jump-scare. And I wanted to."

You blinked as you racked your brain for a reply. Pulling away a bit, Jake let go of your face, allowing you to step back. You could see the notes of anxiety in his gaze, wondering if you were going to hit him, tell him off, or even just walk away.

Flinching as the sound of distant screaming could be heard, you recognized the voices being from the rest of the group. Your gaze locked with Jake's and you opened your mouth to speak, but your voice caught in your throat as Jake reached up and moved a stray piece of hair from your face.

"Don't worry, I wont tell them. What happens in the haunted house, stays in the haunted house."

You eyed him for a moment "Not something you want to brag about?" There was a hint of amusement in your voice, that made Jake relax a bit.

He shrugged lightly "I'd love to brag about kissing you, but, I'd also like to keep it to myself. I can brag about it next time."

You rose your brow "Next time? You're that confident I'll let you kiss me again?"

He smiled before he gently grabbed you by your arms turning you and pushing you to walk through the next room.

Leaning in, he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear "I am."

Making it through the last room with only one loud scare that made you flinch. You exited the last door, seeing the rest of the group standing around outside.

When they saw you and Jake, they all let out a cacophony of laughs, and cheers.

"Where they hell did you two end up?!" Coyote asked as he walked up to Jake.

You eyed and pointed at Payback, "Maybe next time you go down a path, you should make sure everyone goes down the same one." You said with an annoyed tone.

The group snickered, understanding exactly where they lost you.

"Oops, my bad." Payback mumbled as he patted your shoulder.

"I hope Jake didn't make it too unbearable for you." Phoenix teased as she turned away, all of you beginning to make your way out.

You looked over at Jake, to find him already looking at you.

"Unbearable isn't the word I'd use." You said softly, but loud enough for him to hear.

Turning to follow the others out of the exit area, you felt someone fall into step beside you. You didn't need to look to know it was Jake.

Feeling his hands brush yours, clearly on purpose, you spared a glance at him. As he caught your eyes, you saw the knowing look behind his gaze, as he repressed a smile.

You repressed your own smile as you looked away from him, the events of the haunted house replaying in your mind. Maybe you didn't regret coming after all.

xx End xx

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