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Bigger Than The Whole Sky ☁️ | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

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

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

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

Note: I’m sorry.

—————————————

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

A final send off to their sister in arms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dammit, not again!”

“Hey, watch the language, Mickey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Never did they anticipate the tragedy that laid ahead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like they’d just witnessed someone die.

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

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

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

They were only missing two people.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rooster couldn’t stop replaying the crash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

………………..

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

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abrahamshipwreck · 6 months

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'Americans arent talking about this anymore!' 'The world is ignoring it!'

Meanwhile record breaking marches are going on calling out for freeing Palestine. People are being blacklisted, losing jobs, being labelled as members of hate groups by asking for a ceasefire. Social media sites are restricting #FreePalestine #Palestine and conversations advocating for Palestinian voices. The phrase 'From the River to the Sea Pestine Will be Free' is now considered worse than actual N.azi dogwhistles openly calling for deaths to Jewish individuals (while ignoring said dogwhistles because it is still in the Christofadcist's best interests for Jewish people to die as well). News media is painting people as ignorant, as silent, while actively silencing them. It is in the USA's best interest to keep it that way.

The US military machine is actively working so hard to supress information. They learned how dangerous information could be during the Vietnam massacre, it was easier to supress during the Middle East occupations. But now we live in an age with faster and widespread internet, and the US is funding to keep people shut up.

Many still call for the ceasefire, the end to occupation, the disbanding of the colonial settler state of Israel. Many have been doing so for decades. Scream through the gag of an American flag until lungs burst.

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somewhere-to-be · 1 year

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Insatiable - Rhys Montrose x Reader

You're a journalist covering Simon Soo's gallery opening when you meet Rhys Montrose and get a bigger story than you bargained for.

Joe Goldberg is replaced with a reader insert - I'm sorry Joe, I wanted to write Rhys working with a more willing companion. Reader also has questionable ethics because finding out the killer's identity will not be a turnoff or a red flag (later - this is just part 1).

Covering a gallery opening by the rich, for the rich was not a part of your career checklist. But Kate Galvin's galleries were too 'important' to London's snobby elite circle that it just had to be covered. Since the paper's resident art critic was out of town, someone had to attend it. That someone just happened to be you just because you had made the mistake of debating with him about how critics didn't know shit because when impressionism started as a movement, the artists were criticized as being too lazy to complete their paintings. Somehow, he thought it made you qualified enough to cover anything important in his absence. So, here you were, attending this party and seeing art that you actually didn't care enough about so you could make sure it appeared in prominently in the Culture section, letting all the plebians know what they were missing out on. In other words, a snoozefest.

You tried not to feel underdressed in your version of a black-tie attire but it was hard when you knew everyone here had outfits that probably cost more than what you would make in a year. At least there was an open bar and hey - free champagne! You picked up the flute of bubbly wine in front of you, downed it in a go, and picked up another glass. Yet another thing that was probably more expensive than anything you'll ever own.

The paintings themselves were fine but Simon Soo came across as too much of a try hard. You had even got in touch with Kate to ask if he'd want to do an interview - you were going to try to make it a good piece even if you didn't care about it - but he'd declined. Kate had been apologetic enough, she was a professional. She took down your email to send you the pictures of the art to accompany what you were writing, but even she knew it wasn't a big deal if Simon turned down interviews. He got enough publicity anyway and all of his art was going to be sold. After getting done with your 'job' quickly, jotting down a few notes in your phone of the cat paintings hanging on the walls, you looked around at who was in attendance.

You saw the usual celebrities in the crowd - Lady Phoebe with his boyfriend - the American who had opened up the knockofof SoHo House the Entertainment & Celebrity Gossip section spent way too much time talking about. But you spotted another familiar face that you hadn't expected to see here - London's favorite boy, Rhys Montrose.

You'd read his memoir, of course. Everyone had. He was too good of a writer. You'd then also listened to the audiobook with his narration and the way he told his story had mesmerized you. If he decided not to run for mayor like everyone wanted him to and never wanted to write another word again, he would make a killing as a voice actor. But you would still judge him for the name of his book. Good Man in a Cruel World. Come on. Self-important much?

"You're - " "Yes, I am." he said. He greeted you with a smile. "Enjoying the exhibit?"

Two seconds into a conversation with him where you had said one word and you knew why everyone liked him so much. It wasn't just how hot he was - and he did look better in person - but he just had an effortless charm in the way he carried himself. The way he made you think he did actually want to talk to you even though you were sure he must have been tired of meeting his fans at this point.

But when would you get this chance again? You introduced yourself and mentioned you were covering the show.

"Just a stupid fluff piece. As if the internet doesn't have enough cats, real or painted, and for free, without paying the millions for the privilege of a name attached," you finished talking and then immediately regretted everything you had just said. It wasn't a great look to talk shit about the event you were supposed to cover while you were there. Maybe you shouldn't have had that third glass of champagne. You tried to save it with an awkward laugh. "All off the record, of course."

Surprisingly enough, he chuckled. He leaned in and whispered with a conspiratorial smile, "Off the record, I agree with you. But you'll keep my name out of it, won't you? I'm just here as a friend."

"Of course," you said. People would be more interested in reading about what Lady Phoebe had worn anyway. You were relieved that your little slip-up hadn't gone wrong. If anything, he seemed to like you more because of it. Finishing the rest of the drink and very knowingly making the choice to say it that had nothing to do with the buzz you felt from being near him and not just the alcohol, you added,"Besides, you haven't done anything I'd want to write about."

"Is that a challenge?" he said, his eyes twinkling. "Nothing at all?"

You were extremely aware of his complete attention - on you, on the conversation. But you weren't sure if you were imagining it or if he really was flirting with you or if he was just indulging you. You decided to go with option one and play along.

"It's been what? Months? Almost a year? Since you published your book? You've received enough praise for it already. You can't expect it to last forever. What did The Times call your book again? Unflinching, gut-wrenching, and painful?"

"It was unflinching, painful, and humorous, actually," he said, tucking his hands into his pockets.

You smiled at him. It wasn't fair that he got to be handsome, smart, funny, and be not able to take things seriously.

"Well, there you go. You don't need any compliments from me then, do you?"

The way he looked at you, just you, it made you feel like you were the only person in the room there with him. You hated how much it made your heart speed up. You hated how well this worked.

He leaned in to add in a low voice, "I have a terribly insatiable appetite for praise."

Before you could figure out how to react to that, you spotted Gemma coming your way with the Nigerian princess in tow, presumably to talk to Rhys. "Time for me to go," you said, looking over in their direction.

Rhys followed your gaze. His smile didn't go away but it didn't reach his eyes anymore either. He didn't like them but he didn't want them to know it. "Sure you can't stay?"

"I'm sure you can fend for yourself. Unless you wanted to tell me you're running for mayor."

"Ah, I'd love to but I can't."

"You can't blame me for trying. Here's my card," you said, tucking it into the pocket of his suit. "I'd love to hear from you when you do want to tell me that. Or anything."

You slipped away quickly before you could see how that went over. You had flirted with Rhys Montrose and gave him your card. It was entirely unprofessional and it was the most exciting thing you'd ever done.

All that was left to do was eat more bite-sized appetizers until you didn't need dinner and then go back and type up the article.

Until there was a commotion. A girl - couldn't be older than early 20s - in a fur-lined jacket. She splashed red paint. And ran away as security chased after her. There was silence - a general wave of shock - followed by a few murmurs. Was this real? Was this a part of 'the act'? until Simon strode forward and picked up the paint and splashed it on the painting again.

People clapped - they were all too willing to believe this had been an orchestrated performance communicating a message. You knew Soo wasn't that deep. Across the room, you locked eyes with Rhys, who wasn't clapping along.

The crowd dispersed and you hung around, trying to see if you could find Kate for a quote on this surprising new development. There was no point even trying to get to Simon. But she seemed to have disappeared and so did the girl after having been dragged away by security in what definitely did not look like a performance.

Very curious indeed. You couldn't see Rhys either, it was disappointing that he'd left. Not that you thought anything might happen between you, it was ridiculous to think that, right? He hadn't struck you as a flirt from his memoir but there was no way there was anything more there. It was just him having a cheeky little chat. But still, who whispered things like I have a terribly insatiable appetite for praise with that look on his face and not mean something by it?

You were jolted out of your thoughts of Rhys by someone's scream. Was there more to this performance that you'd have to add to your article? As you made your way towards the direction with the others, you saw security hurry past. The doors to the exit were blocked off and soon, you discovered that there was another headline that would be about Simon Soo that would now be on the front page - the one about his murder.

#rhys montrose #rhys montrose x reader #you netflix #sorry there's no goldrose #and no joe goldberg #but i wanted to write this for myself #will post to ao3 later sometime #my writing

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hibiscusangel15 · 2 years

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Merch haul from the SF Gorillaz concert. The Murdoc button was handmade by a fan who passed them out to us while we were waiting in line :’)

Image ID under the cut:

[Image ID: First picture is a combination of buttons, stickers, and a pink water bottle with the band members on it. Pins have magenta backing and the individual characters on them plus two Pazuzu buttons. One Pazuzu button has lightning bolts and the other has black arrows spinning out from the middle.

Button on the bottom is of Murdoc holding his bass and sticking one of the strings through his teeth as he smiles. It was handmade by a fan who kindly handed them out to others waiting to get in.

Water bottle is pink and has band members encompassing it from left to right: Murdoc, 2-D, Noodle, and Russel.

Several stickers with a gray backing. Pink Gorillaz logo, pink lightning bolts and fists, pink lightning bolt Pazuzu, pink Pazuzu with black arrows swirling out, triangular sticker with pink backing and Murdoc floating cross-legged (and cross-eyed) in the middle in his cult leader outfit, a head with pink liquid pouring out of a pitcher into it that reads: “Just doing OUR JOB”, The Last Cult sticker, No more Zeitgeist anymore sticker, and stickers of each of the band members.

Gorillaz North America Tour Fall 2022 poster. Pink Gorillaz graffiti logo across the top. Band members stand to the right with Russel in the top center, Murdoc hiding behind him and poking out of his right side, Noodle in the bottom left, and 2-D in the bottom right. Tour dates are listed on the left.

A poster of the Great Leader Murdoc. He is wearing dark magenta cult garb and has a scraggly black and white beard. A gold chain hangs off his neck and swings to the left. A wheel logo with arrows sticking out of the spokes rests over the right side of his chest. He holds his hand over his abdomen to reveal his thumb and middle fingernails painted red. He is also wearing a gold ring with Pazuzu stamped in the middle on his middle finger. The background is a spotlight on him from behind.

Pink Russel shirt. He is smoking a cigar and holds his hand out while he faces right with his eyes closed. His other hand rests on top of a three drums with the American flag painted down them. Russel is wearing a blue beanie and red jacket with gold cuffs.

Purple Murdoc shirt. It’s more elderberry colored. Murdoc holding a black and pink bass straight in the air with one string stuck between his teeth as he grins at the camera. He is wearing a dark green leopard-print shirt and black pants. He wears his gold anticross necklace and a new chain with Pazuzu’s gold head in the middle. There is a faint blurry purple background of a city and white car behind him. On his bass is a faint Ace of Spades card and a crude doodle of 2-D behind the strings.

Magenta Noodle shirt with her crouching down and holding her guitar slanted right and down towards the floor. She has short red hair and round, white sunglasses with red lenses. Her jacket is extremely colorful and full of random logos. She is also wearing a Crayon Shin-chan necklace. She is wearing brown boots with tan straps over the toes. A white Kabuki mask hangs off her hip.

Light pink 2-D shirt as he stands facing left with his eyes closed. He holds a white melodica over his head. He is wearing a fuzzy blue and pink shirt, a silver beaded cross necklace and a yellow and blue bracelet on his arm.

Black Gorillaz North America Tour shirt. The front features the band members while the back lists the dates.]

#bought damn near everything #dont ask me how much i spent i will cry #Gorillaz #Noodle #Murdoc Niccals #Russel Hobbs #2-D #Stuart Pot

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kaiyablog · 3 months

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bawling my eyes out in the sunshine state: The Floria Project movie review

“This movie made no sense … It had no plot whatsoever .. the ending didn’t make any sense” (Zia’s Google Review, 2024).

While Zia may have only rated Sean Baker’s film, “The Florida Project,” one star, her reasons are precisely what makes the film such a masterpiece. The film follows a mother (Halley, early 20’s) and daughter (Moonee, 6) through a Florida summer living at Magic Castle Inn and Suites, a budget motel less than 20 miles from Disney world. Halley and Moonee are at the bottom of a capitalist society, with no viable means of upward mobility. Much like life, there isn’t a distinct beginning, climax, and resolution to the story and Baker doesn’t invent a happy ending for a story representing people without one.

The movie captures the slice of life spirit, especially because it is shown from the perspective of Moonee. Baker wonderfully captures the mind of a 6-year old with quotes like: “Ooh a spider lets see if it farts,” and “I love oranges but not the lid.” But it’s not just the portrayal of kids’ play, it’s the insight into how they see objectively dysfunctional surroundings. The only way viewers know Halley turned to prostitution is because Moonee has to take a lot of baths with loud music playing and try to understand the subsequent ostracization her mother faces from neighbors.

While the film isn’t shown from Halley’s perspective, it paints a representative picture of her situation. She relies on TANF and free food from her friends with jobs to provide for her daughter, because no matter how hard she tries, she can’t get a job anywhere. After trying everything else, Halley resorts to stripping and then prostitution. In a highly capitalist society in the shadow of Disney, the only way Halley can make money is to sell her body.

Baker is not afraid to talk about sex in controversial ways. Sex is one of the recurring motifs of the film, with portrayals of sex work, pedophiles, boob jobs, and nudists with varying degrees of ambivalent representations. It’s also interesting how the kids intersect with the idea of sex. The kids' most exciting summer moments are when Gloria is shirtless at the motel pool, and they can look at her “boobies.” The kids might not know what sex is, but the film reveals just how much they are influenced by a society that capitalizes on sex.

My only critique of the film is that there is almost too much unnecessary symbolism and unexplained motifs. For example, why the pedophile? There was one three minute scene about him and then never touched on again. Why were there constantly scenes of helicopters flying overhead? That said there were symbols and themes I appreciated. For example, it’s clear whether a character was important by their name. The main characters are: Moonee, Halley, Scooty, Dickie, Bobby, Jancey, and Ashley. Rainbows are a symbol of better things to come, often reliant on money (the pot of gold at the other end). The movie is characterized by bright colors in the surroundings (green nature and the motel is purple), the way characters dress and Halley’s hair and tattoos. The color is symbolic of childhood wonder and the perceived brightness of Disney World.

The final motif that I think had the biggest impact was the appearance of the American flag at the scenes that would make any nationalist question their faith in America. The irony felt the strongest when DCF comes to take Moonee away. Even though Moonee is in a dysfunctional situation, the film makes viewers frustrated in the system. Taking Moonee away to bounce between families for 12 years is not a solution. Halley is not perfect, but she loves Moonee and would do so much more for her if she had a reliable source of money.

The ending of the film turns the American Dream on its head. DCF tries to take Moonee but she runs and escapes. She sobs outside her best friend Jancey’s motel door. Jancey grabs her hand and together they run to Disney World and hold hands in joy together outside the real Magic Castle. (Filmed on an iPhone 6 so that Disney would not make money on the film)

One of Moonee’s quotes from the film is, “Do you know why this is my favorite tree - cuz its tipped over and it's still growing.” Despite living in one of the poorest communities in America, Moonie still finds joy in life. That said, there is no possible happy ending for Moonee as her mother is arrested and she goes away. That’s precisely why the non-sense ending that many Google Reviews complain about is so beautiful. If you want a movie that will have you sobbing and questioning everything, as well then this is the perfect film.

Sources:

Sean Baker explains why the ending is imaginary: https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-the-florida-project-review-20171005-story.html

A look at the experiences of people actually living in the motels outside Disney:https://newrepublic.com/article/164335/homeless-gates-disney-world-florida-sunbelt-blues-review

#the florida project #florida #poverty #ron desantis #fuck desantis

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naiadnb · 5 months

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i think one of the results i didn't expect from becoming more involved in pro-palestinian activism but which has had a nonetheless profound impact on me is how much deeper i feel both hope and love.

i have already despaired too much in my life, and we american fuckers have been asked so little. overcoming my phone anxiety, reaching for my community to make all of our voices louder, continuously hoping and believing that palestine WILL be free—whatever challenge i am facing, it is smaller than what every gazan is facing every day. if my immediate safety is secure, my job is to throw every resource i can access into telling everyone i can, as loudly as i can, that israel is a terrorist state killing innocents by the thousands. if i do not do this, i will forever know that when it mattered, i was a coward.

and so... i've learned how to find and join protests. i've stuttered through voicemails and felt like a fucking idiot after. and then i've dialed the next number.

it's distress tolerance trial by fire, but in the midst of everything i find myself less and less fueled by useless guilt, and more and more by real hope and love. seeing the families, the random weirdos who still cared enough to show up, this community of othereds in the american south—how can i not love? how can i not hope? during a speech, i saw a muslim mother help her daughter sit on a statue of a dog so she could pretend to ride on it. her brother sat in front of her, waving a tiny flag and grinning and clearly too young to have much understanding of what was happening. on my other side, a protester held a small stuffed cloth bag painted with red streaks.

we have the ability to choose to despair or to hope. so in this situation, where despair is cowardice, i am also learning what it means to really hope for a future where no mother ever fears the death of her children from colonists, anywhere. the harder i grasp the thought that this will someday be true, the more solid it becomes. i hope if i keep going, maybe one day it'll be a real thing that we pull into the world together. it'll be hard. i think it'll be less hard the more people show up.

free palestine. end the unlawful occupation. we can scream louder if we work together.

#long post #palestine #free palestine #rllllly hope i don't get nuked for this lol #kinda rambling but i think it matters #oh also ok to rb

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punchout-ispunched · 6 months

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New punch out oc ‼️ Abigail Lewis the ring girl (Abi for short)

I will colour this soon enough but I hope you like her! I think she’s a pretty interesting character to have in the WVBA 🤔

A description:

Colours:

Hair: really light blonde

Eyes: Light Brown

Outfit: the colours of the American flag with white stars

Skin: fair tanned (not overly tanned like SMM’s)

Accessories: she has 3 earrings in each ear and false nails which are painted red & blue with white stars in the middle of each

Abi/Abigail Lewis is a 22 year old, stunningly gorgeous American Ring Girl from California, America. Abi is friendly,flirty,a strong believer in female empowerment and loves her ring girl job. She enjoys the competitive aspect of boxing and is a fierce supporter of her favourite fighters.

She's in a group with Mac, Disco Kid, Super Macho Man, and Abi Lewis herself. She loves talking with them but Macho Man is one of her closest friends because she thinks that he's very funny and cool. She does think he's VERY obnoxious but overall she enjoys his company in and outside the ring.

She surprisingly really likes Glass Joe and talks to him before matches and just generally likes watching him fight against his opponents. She might even want more than a friendship to him 😱.

#punch out #punch out wii #punch out fanart #punch out au #punch out oc #my ocs my beloved #oc artwork #oc insert #oc art #original character

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disasterarea-podcast · 1 year

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Okay, wow, so a bunch of new people followed me. Hi! *waves shyly*

So just for a little Podcast 101 introduction:

My name is Jennifer and I’ve been doing this podcast since the very last day of 2015. I’m a neurodivergent bisexual with a very cute beagle mix named Professor Pancakes. I like road trips, gay romance novels, and little crafty things like paint by numbers kits and mini DIY dollhouses. My personal Tumblr is @trollprincess.

Each episode of the podcast is focused on one disaster in particular, although I do sometimes stretch one disaster over multiple episodes if necessary. For example, not long ago I covered the Grenfell Tower fire, which took three episodes. I’ve also covered tangentially related emergency organizations and groups like care teams and the RNLI.

I wish I could say I get an episode out a week, but I have two other jobs, one full-time on the weekends and one part-time during the week, so episodes come out when they come out. To get them early, I have a Patreon for the podcast which can be found at the link below. I post episodes there as soon as I record them, and they’re also ad-free there.

My definition of “disaster” is pretty broad. I will cover anything from shipwrecks and plane crashes to financial disasters (“Cats” the movie is on my request list) to DashCon. Yes, I did an episode on DashCon. I couldn’t resist. (It’s episode 132, fyi.)

As an addendum to that, I also cover mass shootings. (It’s my podcast, I make the rules.) The rule for me on covering mass shootings is that the shooter’s name will only be mentioned once, if that, and that each victim will be named if possible.

As an addendum to THAT, disasters and tragedies can be very difficult subject matter. Please understand that episodes may feature death and destruction and decide accordingly if listening to each episode will be good for you and your mental health. I provide more specific trigger warnings at the start of each episode if necessary, but I will completely understand if a new episode is not something you’re comfortable listening to and you’d rather go watch Taskmaster or something.

There will be mentions of politics in episodes, but very much because emergency declarations, evacuations, regulations, etc. are an important part of disaster response. I also talk about mental health a lot, both for my own sake and to normalize talking about it. Like I said, difficult subject matter.

I am not a conspiracy theory sort of person. Don’t expect me to use the phrase “false flag” with anything other than sarcastic disdain.

You don’t have to start at the first episode! Honest. The first episodes of a podcast are almost a mess with people trying to find their footing, and this one is not any different. I’m not perfect, and I make mistakes, but I’m totally up for correcting myself if I screw up.

Every hundredth episode I cover a fictional disaster like a real one. Episode 100 was the attack on Nakatomi Plaza, and Episode 200 was the events aboard Trans American Flight 209. I’ve got a while before I decide what to do for episode 300.

Episodes I’d recommend: I’m very proud of episode 170 about United 93 (I read and watch everything I can get my hands on about 9/11, but I don’t plan to cover the whole event on the podcast because with the way I cover disasters, it’d be twenty episodes long at LEAST). I also very much recommend Episode 72 on the “Twilight Zone: The Movie” helicopter crash, mostly because someone told me to stop mentioning American movies so much so I did a whole episode in which I mentioned as many movie set disasters as possible. I’m also absurdly proud of myself for the Chernobyl series, because I never did finish the AIDS series and I learned I very much could pull it off. (I did mispronounce roentgen, but that’s on me.)

If you listen to older episodes, I have taken requests in the past but I am currently on hold with those because my request list right now is at 62 disasters. (Yes, including “Cats”.) So give it a little bit and let me get a few more done and we’ll see if we can start those back up again. 🙂

Thanks so much for being here!

#disasters #history #disaster area #podcast #podcasts #historypodcast

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floridaboiler · 26 days

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#American Flag Paint Job #Hot Rod #Automobile #Car #Vehicle #Auto #custom car #unique car

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streamingcolors-gvf · 1 year

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Boys of Summer - Part II *Revised*

Moodboard created by @allieboop, edited with the help of @garbagevanfleet

Pairing: Josh Kiskza x f!reader, Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Summary: It’s the summer of 1986 and you find yourself starting your first job on your own. You were drawn to the beaches of Ocean City in search of a new start, expecting to fill the days of enjoying whatever the coastal town had to offer. You find yourself thrown into a world you couldn’t have anticipated and the memories made were sure to last a lifetime.

Word count: 10k

A/N: This is the new edited and revised edition of this chapter. No one is obligated to reread it, but if you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend this one over the first!

Warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption, kissing, mentions of blood, and implied violence.

Boys of Summer Playlist, Masterpost

The coastal air blowing through the Pinto’s open windows whipped through your hair and filled your lungs with its sweet, salty nostalgic feeling as you drove over the bridge back onto the mainland, leaving the mile-long stretch of Ocean City behind you for the rest of the evening. It served as the perfect reset for your soul after what you had endured throughout the last few hours of the day.

Your ever-growing collection of cassette tapes piled onto your passenger seat gave a chance for you to distract yourself, and you popped in and rotated through your favorites while you made the short drive back to your new place.

It was modest given your tight budget on a waitress’s salary, but you were more than thankful you found your wonderful roommate, Cindy. You had only arrived here less than a week ago with your small hatchback bursting beyond its capacity with the majority of your belongings.

When you were away from the crowded city that was usually packed with tourists, the area around here was quite peaceful and serene. The coastal farmland that stretched with fields of corn and soybeans remained relatively quiet and untouched throughout the seasons. After driving a couple of miles inland, you turned the Pinto off the back road and onto a gravel drive leading to your house.

The tiny bungalow you shared with her was tucked away close to the inlet shoreline, only about a quarter-mile out from the bay. The thick covering of trees created a sense of privacy but still allowed you to peek out and see the view of the water.

The very faded canary-yellow paint of the house had begun to chip away over the years, reflecting its age and wear. It had been paired with cornflower-blue shutters that framed the few windows, giving the home a certain charm that you didn’t find back in the suburbs of your hometown. You immediately fell in love the moment you laid your eyes on it as if everything had been aligned perfectly for you.

With the help of other roommates throughout the last few years, Cindy had done a decent job at keeping up with most of the maintenance of the property. Although the stained white railing that lined the small front porch needed a thorough scrubbing, she had added her own little touch by scattering a few flower pots that contained blooming marigolds in a variety of colors. An American flag was fastened to the banister, flapping away with the warm breeze rolling off the bay.

You let out a sigh of relief when you didn’t spot Cindy’s car parked in its usual spot in the driveway, because when you cut the engine, all emotional and mental fatigue of the afternoon had found its way to your muscles, making you wince from pain as you crawled out of your car. At this point, you only wanted to shower and crawl right into bed and forget about everything that had happened.

It was upsetting that you allowed someone to speak to you the way that Jake had, especially with everything you should have said back to him playing in your mind on repeat during your drive home. A part of you just wanted to believe that he was simply a horrible person, someone that you should never give a second thought from here on out. Yet, somewhere tucked away in your heart, you believed there was something in the way he looked at you that said otherwise.

How could he be so different from Josh?

Twins. Two brothers who shared the same upbringing and parents were taught the same morals, and even experienced most of the same life events. You wracked your brain for an explanation but came up empty-handed. Josh radiated positivity and energy, welcoming you with such an overwhelming friendliness, comforting you when he could have easily shrugged you off.

The sudden shift in thoughts back to Josh made your stomach flip into knots with unease. That was another thing about your day you could have never anticipated. It was your first day on the job, and you were already crushing on a coworker.

How professional.

You doubted yourself, thinking these new feelings were simply due to him being the first person who showed you genuine kindness and respect in an unfamiliar environment. That’s what you tried to tell yourself as you metaphorically stomped the embers out before they had a chance to catch.

While you tried to convince yourself that the fluttery feeling in your chest was nothing more than your delusions, the small piece of scrap paper with Josh’s number was beginning to burn a hole inside the small green fanny pack that was still hitched around your waist. You stood in the kitchen, replaying the interaction you had with him over and over in your mind while you poured yourself a glass of sweet tea from the fridge.

Its mere existence would destroy any chance for you to decompress, causing your anxiousness to churn in the pit of your stomach, knowing if you blew him off tonight he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it tomorrow. If you did decide to go, you would possibly run into Jake and relive everything that went horribly wrong today, and dealing with him made you feel like a timid dog with its tail tucked shamefully between your legs.

You dug it out of the tiny bag, carefully smoothing out the wrinkled paper with your fingertips. You mouthed the digits as you read them, smiling at the little doodle of a sun at the bottom. You placed it onto the center of the counter and stood back as if it contained some supernatural ability to suck you in.

You weren’t sure how long you had been pacing aimlessly within the confines of the tiny kitchen when you heard the familiar crunching of a vehicle’s tires rolling over the gravel outside. You peeked out the front window to see Cindy making her way into the house with two large brown paper bags in her arms.

“Hey!” she chimed in her usual cheerful voice while coming through the front entrance, kicking the door closed behind her with her foot.

“Hey!” You called back, trying to match her upbeat tone with your greeting. “What’s in the bags?” You tipped your chin to gesture at the two brown paper bags as she sat them down on the avocado-green Formica countertop.

Despite her petite frame, she was able to carry in the bulky groceries with ease. She was dressed in her uniform that was similar to yours, a baby blue t-shirt with a fish printed across the front and khaki shorts. She was effortlessly pretty with her natural, sandy-blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail with one of her pink scrunchies. You were envious of how the sun had kissed her tan skin with a perfect dusting of tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks.

“I was driving from work and stopped by that one produce stand on the way home. I couldn’t let it go when you said you’ve never tried the sweet corn here, so I just had to get some. I swear, it’s like the yummiest thing ever. A little bit of butter, and a sprinkle of salt and you have perfection.” She rambled on while pulling out several ears of corn that were still covered in their husks. She looked over her shoulder as you made your way around the island. “Have any plans tonight?”

For a moment you considered sharing Josh’s bonfire invitation, but because you were still undecided about it, and realizing she was the kind of friend that would drag you out of the house from the idea of having a night out, you stayed tight-lipped.

You shook your head through a yawn, “I don’t think so. I’ll probably just go to bed early. It’s been a pretty rough day.”

“Oh my god!” Cindy gasped and threw her palm over her open mouth with eyes widened in guilt. “I totally forgot it was your first day! How did it go?! What happened?”

“Honestly, it started fine for the first day. It was the usual training stuff, but one of the bartenders was really rude to me all day for some reason,” you explained, stacking the ears of corn on themselves as she pulled them out of the bag.

Her maintained brows pulled together, causing a tiny crease to form between them when she asked, “Who?”

“I forgot you told me you know everybody around here,” you chuckled, picking at the stringy bits of corn husk that have started to litter the countertop.

A smug grin tugged at her mouth. “That I do, but I also go to Queen’s Anchor a lot with the girls, so I probably know who you’re talking about.”

You hesitated giving up the information but the wiggling of her brows in anticipation of your answer made you finally give in, “Jake.”

She stopped pulling the fresh produce out of the bag, freezing her movements to look right at you. “Jake Kiszka?”

“That’s the one.” You shrugged, but still noted her strange reaction and the way she said his name. “You know him?”

She paused in silence for a few seconds before her dark brows in a confused expression, clearly not believing what you said. “Yeah…but he was rude to you?”

“Like, exceptionally.” You physically cringed at those encounters that were playing in your mind. A shudder rolled through you when you thought about how he reprimanded you in front of everyone.

“That’s very weird considering he practically flirts with every woman on the planet,” Cindy snorted loudly. After emptying the paper bags, she neatly folded them up and tucked them underneath the sink cabinet.

“Oh, don’t worry. I got to see that too. In rea-time,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes to fully express the day’s frustration to her. You followed it with a deflated sigh, “I guess there’s something about me that’s incredibly off-putting.”

She reached into the cabinet for a glass, muffling the sound of her voice behind the wooden door, “Hey! You know that’s not true. It’s not your fault he’s a total idiot.” You watched as she meandered over to the fridge to retrieve an ice tray. “Maybe you can do him a favor and pull that stick out of his ass.”

“I’m sure he’d tell me I was doing it wrong,” you muttered under your breath with a heavy roll of your eyes.

“Sounds about right,” she giggled as she walked towards you with glass in hand, but her eyes locked onto the folded piece of scrap paper laying on the counter. Picking it up, she asked, “What’s this?”

“The guy I trained with today gave me his number,” you explained, hoping it would shift the topic of conversation from Jake. “He invited me out to a bonfire tonight.”

She nearly squealed in excitement before you could finish your sentence, “You should go! It would be great for you to get out of here for the night. Summer only lasts so long, ya know.”

She was right. Summer would pass quickly before you knew it, and the last thing you wanted was to spend it all working and staying at home.

You considered it, tossing the idea around in your head. “Yeah, I guess. I’m not sure if I should though.”

Something in her eyes flickered when she remembered to ask for a vital piece of information. “Wait… who’s the guy you trained with?”

“Josh,” you blurted out without a second thought.

“Kiszka?!”

You were taken aback by her sudden outburst. “Is there something wrong?”

“No! No, not at all, I mean…you should totally still go tonight…” She trailed off, picking at the polish on her nails, making it obvious she was holding something back.

“Cindy-“ you pressed.

“It’s really nothing. Just-“ She did that same awkward pause when she heard about Jake. She brushed her fingers through her teased bangs while huffing out a sigh, “Be careful with him.“

The warning didn’t seem to match, and you thought she might have mixed him up with someone else. You played along to hear her out from your curiosity. “How come?”

She didn’t answer right away, as if searching for the right words. “Uhh… It’s just that he’s a bit of a flirt as well. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

You wondered what he could have done to give that impression to her, but at the same time, her saying that about Josh didn’t surprise you from how he seemed to be based on your short time spent together today. He was undoubtedly charming, and to most people, definitely flirtatious. Although he didn’t seem the type to play women, you could never be too sure.

You quickly interjected, brushing away the thought, “No, no. I think it's just a friend thing. I don’t think he’s interested in me like that anyway.”

Her brows were still drawn together in a look of worry as she attempted to gauge your reaction, searching for anything that might be off. “Are you sure?”

“Cindy, I just met him a few hours ago.”

She shifted into her usual relaxed, cheerful demeanor - maybe to backpedal the whole exchange in fear that she might have upset you. “He is cute… I was just curious.”

“I know you’re curious. I think you know more about everyone in this town than anyone I will ever meet,” you laughed, but you were having a hard time shaking the things she said. “I’m not sure if I should even go now,” you mumbled quietly, shifting uncomfortably to stand on your feet.

“No, you should go! I really didn’t mean to freak you out. If it's a friend thing it's not a big deal, right?” She handed the piece of paper that was sitting on the counter back to you. “Seriously, give him a call.”

You chewed on your lip anxiously. “I don’t know…“

“Give him a call or I’m going to drag you there myself.”

For over an hour, Cindy had gossiped about her job with you, falling right back into the familiar banter you have grown to enjoy through the past week of getting to know her. Yet the feeling like she was hiding something about Josh had snuck away to the corner of your mind. Sensing your apprehension about spending time with him, she insisted a few more times that everything was fine and she had overreacted.

After dealing with her persistent nagging, you eventually got the courage to make the call. You were careful with dialing the numbers as you pushed the plastic buttons, slow and precise to ensure you didn’t make a single error. Holding it up to your ear, you heard it ring and ring. By the fourth ring, someone had finally picked up.

A raspy voice answered, “Hello?”

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating just hanging the phone up altogether. “Hey, Josh?”

“Yeah? Who’s this?”

So he didn’t recognize you over the phone by voice alone.

“The girl you trained today.”

“Who?” He asked in a groggy voice, sounding like he had woken from a long nap.

Great. He had already forgotten you.

Letting out a deep frustrated sigh, you gave in to using his ridiculous nickname bestowed upon you, “It’s Greenie, Josh.”

“OH! Greenie! So are you coming tonight?!” You almost had to pull the phone away from your ear from the sudden raise in the volume of his voice.

Even though you were calling him, you were still hedging your bets with everything, preparing yourself to tell him you weren’t going to make it. You were making this call as a courtesy to tell him not to hold out his plans for you, but maybe you wanted to know if he still would try to convince you to go. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”

“Come on! You’ll have a blast. I promise.” He was already tugging at the strings of your heart with that saccharine-sweet voice of his. He could probably convince you of anything if he really tried.

“I don’t know. I won’t know anybody but you.”

A breathy laugh scratched its way through the line. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“Josh!”

“Okay, okay. I’m just saying it will be great, and you’ll get to meet everyone too. I’ll make it worth it to you, okay?”

You chewed on your lip again, and that fluttery feeling in your stomach returned. “Okay. You promise?”

“I pinky-swear.”

“You can’t pinky-swear over the phone.”

“Just give me your fucking address, Greenie!” He laughed into the receiver.

You had successfully won you over, and you gave up your address to have him tell you he would pick you up in about an hour from now. Cindy had gotten ready to spend the evening bar-hopping with some of her girlfriends. She wished you luck as she walked out the door, demanding that you let her know how everything went when you got home.

Knowing Josh had already seen you in your work attire, you weren’t going to bother stressing out about your looks or outfit. What you desperately needed was a hot shower and a change of clothes. It was quick, only really out of the necessity of washing off the sweat and restaurant funk from your job off your body. Knowing you’ll be by the ocean, you threw on one of your basic swimsuits and covered it with a pair of cotton shorts and a simple t-shirt.

Looking into the bathroom mirror, you were thankful that recent sun exposure in the last few days blessed you with more of a tanned glow than usual. You only applied a thin coat of mascara to your lashes and a sweep of pink blusher across your cheeks.

You did your best not to pace anxiously around the house in anticipation knowing you had about twenty minutes to spare - if Josh happened to be here on time. You flipped on the radio and decided to kill the extra time by cleaning up the dirty dishes that were piling up in the sink and tidying up the living space.

A white ‘77 Jeep Wrangler pulled into the drive almost thirty minutes past the original time Josh had given you over the phone. The soft top had been pulled down, leaving you with the view of him waving frantically from the driver’s seat. He added the touch of a few impatient honks to signal his arrival.

You scrambled around to gather your things, locked up the house, and ran over to greet him as he idled behind the Pinto. In any other circumstance, you might have been annoyed at someone running as late as he had, but the way his smile beamed at you made you forget the inconvenience.

“You’re late.” You popped the door handle and crawled into the Jeep.

He ignored your scolding, and quipped back, “We’re on beach time, baby.” He had his aviators pulled down over his eyes, and was still dressed in a similar white t-shirt and shorts combination like he had earlier in the day, matching your choice of outfit as well.

You settled into the seat, grumbling, “You’re so corny. I’m pretty sure only retired old people say things like that.”

He shifted into reverse, and with a hand behind your headrest, he replied in his usual soft, warm tone, “You could learn a lot from them, darling. Seems like they might have stuff figured out.”

When Josh took a left instead of a right turn- which would have led you both back into Ocean City- you asked, “We aren’t going back into the city?”

“No, Greenie, we would be arrested within five minutes if we had a bonfire on the beach there,” Josh chuckled.

“Oh, right. Where are we going then?”

“Assateague.” He looked over and asked, “Been there?”

You shook your head. “No, I don't think so.” The name seemed kind of familiar to you, but it had been years since your family had brought you to this area for vacation.

“It’s not far from here. It's just a bit south of Ocean City. The park is normally closed off for campers but my younger brother, Sam, usually comes in clutch for us when he dates one of the lifeguards each summer.”

“That seems hella convenient for you guys.”

A grimace flashes on his face before he continues, “Usually it all works out until they figure out he’s dating another girl at the same time. Let’s just say we’ve learned to take advantage when we have it.”

Fantastic. Another Kiszka brother that was a flirt with women.

“Why don’t you date a lifeguard?” You teased, curious and nervous about the potential answer. He only laughed again at your question, so you add, “Have you?”

This made him break his view on the road to look at you, and he flashed another one of his playful winks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Josh calling you out made you flush hot with embarrassment, and you wondered to yourself why you had even asked in the first place.

Would you have been jealous if he had said yes?

You just decided to let his question linger in the air between you in an attempt to save some of your dignity. Thankfully, he didn’t let you sit in the tension for too long before blurting out with his tone more serious than you’ve heard yet, “Oh! Just giving you a head’s up. And trust me on this one. Do not, I repeat, do not go up to the horses.”

You huffed out a breath of laughter, “Horses?”

“Yeah. There are wild ponies that live on the island, and speaking from experience-“ he paused to laugh as he shook his head while reminiscing back on a memory. “Let's just say that you do not want to be drunk and decide to pet them. It did not end very well.”

“Sounds to me like you’re a dumbass,” you giggled to yourself and let the image of him being chased by a very angry horse on the beach play in your mind.

You look over to see that crooked smile of his. “You have no idea.”

As much as you wanted to play this game and avoid the topic, it had continued to eat away in the back of your mind. “So what happened with you and Jake today?”

“Oh...nothing really,” Josh mumbled and you witnessed his body instantly tensing up as if you just flipped an internal switch.

“Nothing?” Guilt instantly settled in your gut. You hated thinking that you started a feud between the twin brothers.

“Yeah, nothing that you need to worry about or stress over, Greenie.” When he glanced over for a second and saw your frustrated expression, he quickly reassured you, “I promise. Just try and enjoy tonight and not think about him, okay?”

You accepted his words and just nodded in response, staring out to watch the scenery as the sunset was casting over in its final moments of the day. Both of you continued the drive in the few minutes of silence with the radio's volume set just above a low hum until “Raspberry Beret” started playing on the station. Josh gasped and immediately turned the knob so the music was blasting out of the speakers.

The once tense atmosphere between the two of you quickly dissipated when Josh started to sing along, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the Jeep’s steering wheel. He would break away from watching the road to look at you, with that massive, goofy grin plastered across his face. Your giggles only fueled his antics more. He would take his hand off the shifter to wave it around in animated movements in unison with the little dancing in his seat while he sang along. He would even point to you in an attempt to get you to join him during the duet portion of the song.

Through the fit of laughter, you asked, “You like Prince?”

He held up his index finger, warning you, “Be careful. I’ve been known to seduce women with “When Doves Cry”.”

“So I’ve been told,” you nudged his shoulder playfully with the taunt.

It was almost like his ear pricked up to make sure he heard you correctly. “From who? Was it Kat?”

“No. Cindy, my roommate,” you corrected him, and the things she mentioned before you left started to pop into the forefront of your mind again. You shook off the concern with a laugh and a side glance at him. “What’s this about Kat?”

“I plead the fifth, your honor,” he lifted his right hand from the shifter once more up in the air to mimic taking the oath.

“You would,” you teased him, shaking your head in faux disapproval.

“What did she say about me?” He asked, keeping his voice light and casual, but ultimately allowing his curiosity to peek its way through.

“Cindy? All she told me was that I need to be careful with you because you liked to-' You caught yourself before you were about to admit the rest of Cindy’s warning to you. You didn’t want to dampen the evening by making Josh uncomfortable or implying that you were even a little interested in him. “You know what? Don’t worry about it.”

ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ

The sun had almost completely set on the horizon as you crossed over the bridge from the mainland onto the small island. Josh pulled the Jeep off onto a hidden dirt path that was tucked away from the main entrance to the campgrounds. It was out of reach from the public, offering the seclusion they needed. It didn’t take long for you to see the orange-red glow from the flames of the bonfire up over the sand dunes and the hum of drunken voices from the group of people already on the beach.

After cutting the engine, Josh quickly hopped out and started towards the crowd, almost too eager to wait for you by the car. He looked back towards you with a shit-eating grin, “Come on, Greenie!”

“Josh, wait up!” You shouted after him, kicking off your shoes as soon as you hit the soft sand. His strides seemed effortless as he made his way down the dunes to greet everyone that had already arrived. You fell back behind him, holding the sandals in your hands as you closed the short distance, thankful the sand had cooled off considerably since the hot afternoon.

The initial concoction of nerves that made your stomach do nauseous flips when you got here started to slowly subside as you took in the scene around you. Music was playing on the radio from a small boombox someone had brought along. People were gathered around the roaring fire, perched up on folding beach chairs, blankets, and a collection of plastic coolers. Muffled conversations were intertwined with the dull lapping of waves hitting the surf, allowing you to set your mind at ease.

Josh made sure to introduce you to the group the best he could, sometimes getting distracted from being pulled into other conversations. It left you alone to fill in the interactions with strangers with the standard small talk. In reality, you were out of your comfort zone, and after a while of pushing through the initial awkwardness, you ended up sitting by yourself on one of the large coolers placed around the bonfire.

You had a feeling that this exact thing would happen, but at least Jake didn’t seem to be here yet. You didn’t feel any anger at Josh for not giving you his full attention, but rather you were more frustrated with yourself at not being able to mesh right into his inner circle of friends right away.

You spent the time alone either watching the fire in front of you or studying how the moonlight danced across the ocean waves. You even considered for a moment that you should take off from the group to walk along the shore to look for shells, waiting for when Josh was ready to take you back home.

That’s when you spotted two young men walking along the shore holding surfboards under their arms as they approached the rest of the group. You assumed they came straight from the water, as they were still dripping seawater with a coating of wet sand sticking to their feet and legs.

One of the guys broke off running, dropping his board at his feet to tackle an unsuspecting Josh into the sand, sending them both tumbling over into a pile of limbs. Fits of laughter were broken up with a string of curses and grunts from the both of them as they wrestled on the beach.

The other man had long, jet-black hair that started to curl as it began drying in the summer air. He was slightly taller than the first with broader shoulder muscles that flexed as he stuck the board upright into the sand.

He greeted a few people as they approached him, either with a friendly smack on the shoulder or bumping fists together. At first, watching the simple interactions from the distance warmed your heart. It also made you ache with the reality that you were alone out here, and the realization that you’re far away from your childhood home set in more than ever. You envied the closeness they developed, even with the strangers around them.

Even throughout childhood, you always struggled to make close bonds with people at home or even when you were older in college. It seemed to come second nature to the people here. It could have been due to working together through the summer seasons here, or maybe building friendships just came more naturally to them. Even with new scenery in your life now, you still felt like the odd one benched on the sidelines looking in.

“Jake’s new girl?” The male voice pulled you from the mental fog of your daydreaming. Your eyes refocused on the man with the dark curly hair that had come in from surfing in the ocean.

It took you a moment for your brain to catch up to his question. He had given you a friendly, warm smile while your brain took a few seconds to process what he had said while he started drying off with a towel.

You caught a glimpse of Jake walking past with a blonde woman he flirted with hours beforehand at the restaurant. She had her arm wrapped around his waist, giggling away at something he must’ve said. He has dressed in a pair of light-wash worn denim jeans rolled up at the ankle, paired with another button-up shirt that was mostly opened to reveal his chest. His long hair wasn’t pulled back in the loose bun he had sported at work earlier, but instead, it was worn down with a pair of black Ray-Ban’s sitting on the top of his head.

“Oh god, no.” you scoffed loudly, shaking your head so violently at the idea that his smile shifted into a confused look, but for only a second before it returned to a friendly expression.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.” He lifted his hands in defense. “It’s just that usually when there is a new face around here, it's because of him,” he explained while draping the damp towel over the back of one of the beach chairs behind him.

“That’s funny because I don’t think he could hate me any more than he does,” you mumbled to yourself, trying hard not to wince while you replayed the harsh words Jake said to you earlier in the day.

“I don’t think I believe that.” He brushed you off with a lazy wave, but when you gave him a pained expression, he added, “But if that’s true, he’s missing out because I really can’t imagine how anyone could hate you.”

“Maybe you should ask him.” You pointed a finger behind him, gesturing to Jake introducing the woman he had brought around the group.

“Hmm.” He clicked his tongue without even glancing over his shoulder. “I’d rather not. I’m enjoying talking to you way more,” he hummed softly while popping the plastic lid to dig around the cooler, grabbing two bottles from the melting ice. He offered one of them to you. “Can’t buy you a drink, so this is the best I can do for now.”

“Thanks!” You smiled at the offer and reached out to grab the beer, but he quickly pulled it back.

“Hold up.” He leaned over and popped the metal cap on the lid of the cooler with a smack of his palm. He handed the beer back to you, looking around to find the man who brought you here. “So you’re not with Jake, but what about Josh?”

“No, no. It’s not like that!” You insisted in a voice louder than you expected, protesting the idea for a second time tonight.

Did it really appear to people that this was a date?

“You sure?” He tipped his chin in the direction behind you, making you turn your head around. It was clear he was hinting at Josh, who was looking at you while immersed in a conversation with someone beside him. He smiled when you made eye contact before turning away to respond to the person.

You spun back to the man that offered you the beer. “Maybe he just has a staring problem.”

He flashed you a smile that edged the line of just being friendly. “I don’t blame him.”

“So do you flirt with every girl as soon as you meet them?” You teased, letting a smile form as you brought the lip of the glass bottle to your lips. He took the chance and decided to sit next to you on the cooler close enough that your knees were barely touching.

“No, just the pretty ones,” he whispered while leaning in, closing the already short distance to only a few inches between you. His smoky-brown eyes, framed with long, dark lashes, looked right into yours. His blatant interest in you should have scared you off running in the other direction, but there was something so calming and inviting about him. The brief, intimate moment you were sharing was quickly interrupted when someone cut in.

“I see you’ve met Daniel.”

You both looked up to see the same man who had tackled Josh, standing before you while he tried to catch his breath from the exertion of fighting around in the sand. Now that you got to see him up close, you noted how young he looked with the features of his face holding onto their boyish youthfulness. He extended out an open hand, one that was covered in gritty sand, and introduced himself, “Hey, I’m Sam, the youngest and clearly the most handsome and undeniably charming Kiszka brother.”

Daniel cleared his throat and rolled his eyes, “Thanks, Sam.“ His expression returned to a much softer one meant for you. “And just Danny is fine.”

You offered your name and nodded in response, taking Sam’s hand in your own for a loose handshake. Brushing the sand off your fingers and on your leg, you asked, “You’re Josh and Jake’s brother?”

“I am! How long have you known them for?” He reached and pulled out the towel Danny had used and started drying off his hair which was now tangled and caked in sand.

“Just met them today, actually. I started-“

“Hey, Daniel. Can you help me with this cooler?” Jake’s voice cut through the air unexpectedly, interrupting another one of your thoughts - something he seemed to be an expert at. His tone and body language were direct and stiff, coming across as almost upset about something Danny might have done.

“Sure, man.” Danny glanced back at you, revealing another confused look on his face before letting a heavy sigh escape his chest as he stood up to his feet again. Jake waited for him with arms crossed over his chest while standing across the other side of the bonfire and made sure to avoid looking at you the entire time. Danny gave you a reassuring smile.“I’ll be right back.”

In his friend’s short absence, Sam filled you in on some details of the relationship between him and his older brothers. You were tempted to pry further, but he didn’t get the chance to get far in conversation before a girl came running up from behind and pulled him into a tight, intimate hug. Based on what Josh had told you earlier, and the recognizable red bathing suit peeking out from underneath her clothes, you assumed she was one of the lifeguards that would find himself involved with.

As they stayed locked in their embrace while exchanging kisses and affectionate touches with each other, you averted your eyes only to see Jake and Danny walking back over the dunes with another large cooler. After dropping the heavy container in the sand, Jake made his way back over to sit next to the woman he brought along. Danny grabbed another ice-cold beer and started to join in the drunken chatter with the others. You couldn’t hide the soured expression on your face when it seemed like he was now ignoring you. He hadn’t even bothered to look at you once since he came back to the group with Jake.

What did Jake say to him?

You swallowed back the negative feeling aching in your chest, convincing yourself that the drastic change in his demeanor was nothing to be concerned about. You knew that you could be in your head about these things as overthinking tended to be one of your bad habits throughout your life. You shook off any intrusive thoughts, summing it up to him catching up with buddies and he had only given you a friendly introduction before.

Throughout different points in the night, Josh dropped in to check on you when he could break away from the others, usually with another beer in his hand reserved just for you. Through your quiet observations, you quickly learned that many people within the group knew each other through working in the many restaurants that lined the beachfront area. It was a small community and coming here together after working their shifts like this was their sacred ritual.

It would take a little more time spent together to feel genuinely included in the tight-knit group, but you could tell that they truly welcomed you with open arms. You still held out for Danny to come around again, especially after having an exchange that you would consider an interest in you, but he never made his way back over to talk to you again.

Thankfully, the rest of the night progressed smoothly without any other confrontations or issues, and you made an effort to stay clear out of Jake’s path. Much to your luck, he had been too preoccupied with the blonde under his arm to even really notice your presence, and he didn’t make a point to acknowledge you in any way. It was only when you were close enough within earshot, that you learned that her name was Jenny and that she was only visiting for the week on vacation.

From a first impression standpoint, she seemed decently friendly from what you could tell given that you were never properly introduced to each other. She was young and flirty, vibrant with bubbly energy, and perhaps even a bit naive to everything around her. There was a fiery determination in her to have as much fun as possible, living freely through life without responsibilities, and she clung onto Jake as if the experience depended on it. You could have been envious of it, letting yourself wonder if she thought Jake would call her when she finally went back home after her vacation had ended. In hindsight, it might have been a conniving thought, but you smiled to yourself whenever she commented “you would love this” about her life back home when talking to him. His responses usually consisted of a single nod or hum at the sentiment, letting her carry on with her rambling as the hours passed by.

As the beers continued to flow through into the late hours of the evening, the once high level of energy started to shift as drunken conversations slowly dragged on.

“Is this all you guys do out here?” You asked no one in particular, but it was Josh, who was laying out on a beach blanket looking up at the night sky, that answered your question.

“What do you mean?” He asked with a rasp to his voice that stitched seamlessly into the crackling embers of the bonfire.

“I just figured there’d be like a party game or something,” you huffed out after finishing the last sip of warm beer from a bottle that had its label picked off completely out of boredom.

“What, like ‘Truth or Dare’?” He chuckled as he started to prop up himself on his elbows, giving you a better view of his face. The image of him in the flickering light from the fire casting over his tanned skin, making the apples of his cheeks glow in the orange flame, almost made you lose your thought completely.

“I was thinking of a game more like beer pong-“

“Did someone say ‘Truth or Dare’?!” Sam shouted over everyone else, scrambling to his feet with beaming excitement when he caught wind of the idea. You weren’t sure how much he had to drink but it was becoming obvious that the amount was starting to catch up to him. His unbridled enthusiasm was unfortunately only met with a few groans and verbal protests to the idea.

“Sam, what are we? Ten years old?” Jake mocked with bitter distaste and judgment, finally adding input to the group’s conversation for the first time this evening.

“Shut up, Jake. You are never any fun,” Sam snapped, letting the last few words slur together while waving a hand to dismiss his older brother’s judgmental remarks.

With everyone eventually giving in, Sam started the game off by going around the group, and nearly everyone chose the option “truth” which put a significant lull in the excitement that Sam was biting for. One of the guys who was feeling brave chose the other option and was dared by the others to strip naked and run nude into the freezing, cold ocean. The moment of cheers and clapping was only followed by another round of “truths”, causing Sam to feel incredibly impatient.

When you followed around the circle listening to people spill their secrets, your eyes fell on Jenny sitting across Jake’s lap while they snuggled together on the beach chair. They were both unbothered without a shred of concern with the game the majority of you got roped into playing.

He was busy trailing his fingers across her tanned skin, studying her reaction with each languid stroke of his hand up and down her arm. He let them slip effortlessly under the tiny strap of her swimsuit that rested on her shoulder in an attempt to grab her undivided attention. You watched as they stared into each other's eyes. She giggled when he tugged playfully at the thin strap, and the gasp that was just barely above a whisper leaving her lips when he released it to snap against her. He tipped the bridge of his nose into the crook of her neck while tracing his fingertips across the area right above the hem of her top, dancing teasingly along the exposed, bare skin.

You knew it was something you shouldn’t stare at, but you just weren’t able to avert your eyes even if you tried. You just weren’t sure why the sight of them like this elicited these uncomfortable feelings inside you.

Was it Jealousy? Disgust? Were you just upset that he didn’t reveal the sensitive side that he was showing her? Or was it because you wanted to be her?

The latter made you physically shudder and you scrambled to bury the thought as quickly as it entered your mind.

It was when he broke away and looked directly at you - with the darkness of his pupils boring deeply into yours - and tilted his head and bit into the soft skin of her jawline below her ear that made you realize he wanted you to see this. You just couldn’t comprehend the reason behind all of it. She let out a whiny moan, quiet enough so no one else could hear her if they weren’t paying attention. You froze, and threw your eyes to the sand knowing that you were caught red-handed.

“Come on, guys! Someone needs to pick ‘Dare’ already!” Sam’s pleas were the thing to save you from having to watch the scene before you any longer. He made eye-contact and shouted your name while pointing an index finger towards you.

You aggressively shook your head, bringing up your hands in protest. “I don't think so. I’m probably going to sit this one out, guys.”

“Please! It will be fun!” He clasped his hands together at his chest in his act of shameless begging.

With everyone’s eyes honed in on you, and with his pleading eyes, you eventually gave in. “Okay, Sam. Just one.” He cheered in victory with winning you over, and pondered for way longer than he should have for a dare to your turn in the game.

“I think she should kiss Josh.” Kat’s taunting voice cut through the silence, and she darted her eyes back and forth between you and Josh to gauge your reaction.

You hadn’t spoken a word to her since you arrived, mostly due to the fact it was obvious that she wasn’t a fan of yours. Her suggestion was laced with the same disapproval and judgment towards you earlier that day when you first met. It was also clear, like it was written upping her forehead that this was not said with the best of intentions as she pulled her lips into a devilish, cocky grin.

“No, no. Greenie, you don't have to listen to them. Seriously.” Josh insisted as he suddenly brought himself to a sitting position on the blanket spread out across the sand.

Sam whooped and hollered, drowning out Josh’s voice entirely. “She totally should! This is great!” His glazed eyes found you. “Greenie, I dare you,” he teased, using Josh’s nickname through his slurred speech.

“Greenie-“ Josh tried to interject one more time with his brows pulled up in concern.

“No, it’s fine,” you insisted through a weak smile, not entirely sure what motivated the decision you were about to make. This was all meant to be an embarrassment for you, but you didn’t want to give anyone, especially Kat, the satisfaction of bailing out.

Any inhibitions you could have had were pushed right off to the side as you stumbled from your sitting position on the cooler to close the distance between Josh and yourself. Your clumsiness did not fail to show its face when you suddenly caught your foot over something piled in the sand in front of him. You tumbled and fell forward faster than you had anticipated and instinctively reached out to brace yourself on his shoulders.

Thankfully, he was able to catch you in his open arms and steadied your body over his. Feeling more bold in your slightly drunken state - and without another second of hesitation, you smashed your lips harshly against his. Thinking back, it probably should have been a chaste, friendly kiss, because you must have surprised him with how he instantly froze underneath you. His hands stayed wrapped around your upper arms from when you fell into him.

Josh pulled back slightly leaving only enough space to smile against your lips and let a soft giggle bounce in his throat. He slowly trailed his open hands up your arms, over the tops of your bare shoulders to finally wrap around the back of your neck. He guided you back into the kiss, making you melt effortlessly into him as his lips brushed gently across yours. Every movement he made was feather-light and almost calculated with a calm steadiness to test these uncharted waters with you.

If it wasn’t for every single one of your senses being completely focused solely on Josh, you might have noticed that everyone was sitting around the both of you in silence, if not total shock. They had only expected a quick, maybe even slightly awkward peck between the two of you. If you were to look back on the experience, you might admit that you probably had forgotten their existence altogether.

You were simply too immersed in how his slender fingers weaved delicately through your hair to pull you into him tighter than before. With your own hands placed firmly on his chest, you started to feel his breathing shake with each ragged exhale of his lungs under your palms. He must have been sharing the same amount of bravery when he flicked his tongue across your lip in an act of asking permission. You were quick to grant it to him, opening your mouth slightly with the invitation.

It had been too long since you had shared anything remotely similar to this with anyone, and you wished you could live in this moment forever. He let out a desperate moan into you as soon as your tongue danced across his. You melted into it, finding everything about Josh to be warm and addicting. It enveloped you in every sense, from how he tasted to how his skin felt on your face as he brushed his thumbs across your flushed cheeks. It was delicate with a subtle sweetness, yet still containing the burning desire that made your heart flutter wildly in your chest.

You should have been embarrassed by how you straddled yourself on his lap while you dragged your hands up the length of his neck and through his hair. Maybe you should have been ashamed of your hungry desire when you instinctively tugged the loose curls through your fingers and pulled them from his scalp. The simple action had caused him to groan and nip at your bottom lip in response. The sharp sensation was enough to elicit a hiss through your teeth and make you pull away from him for the first time.

The break in contact gave you both the chance to catch your breath, and also allowed everyone else to finally react with them erupting in a mix of cheers and whistling that would make anyone blush a beet red hue.

The way Josh looked over you, combined with alcohol flowing through your system, made you giggle from the unexpected predicament you were now both in. He ignored everyone around you and let his half-lidded eyes drift slowly down the features of your face while he swept his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip. He let his tongue peek out to wet his own lips as if he was reliving the memory of how you felt, or maybe the action was just out of wanting a little bit more of you.

He leaned forward so his lips brushed ever-so-slightly across the shell of your ear and whispered in a panting breath, “You’re pretty good at that.”

The intoxicating warmth of his breath fanning across your skin made a shudder roll through the length of your back. Despite the warm summer air and heat rolling off the bonfire next to you, goosebumps instantly formed on the surface of your skin. You leaned into it for a desperate chase for more. Before letting it all come to an end, he gave a final playful nip to your earlobe and leaned back on the blanket under him.

The commotion going on behind you catapulted you back into the reality of what just happened between you. You had made out with Josh for the first time within twenty-four hours of meeting him in front of everyone - in front of a group of people that you barely even knew. Hell, you couldn’t remember most of their names if you’d tried. You weren’t even entirely sure if you liked each other more than being friends.

The flood of overwhelming thoughts and feelings circling around in your clouded mind were nearly enough to ruin everything if it wasn’t for how Josh smiled at you. Everything about it was perfect, somehow easing the nerves and convincing you that everything was okay, but also leaving you with uncertainty of your situation.

Before you really had the chance to process any of it, your eyes flicked from his face and locked onto the silhouettes of two people standing off in the distance. After taking a second to focus your eyesight, you realized it was two men standing near the entrance of the dunes.

“Josh, who are those guys?” His expression dropped the second he heard the new panicked tone in your voice. You signaled with your eyes to look behind him, making him turn immediately.

It seemed like every muscle in his body tensed all at once when he saw them. You watched a heavy swallow bob low in his throat as you sat trapped in silence together until he scrambled to his feet. “Uh…hold on.”

“Are they cops?” You asked in a meek voice that let your anxiety and fear break through. You remembered that Josh implied during the drive that all of you really shouldn’t even be on this beach, and that being arrested for trespassing - something that was not on your summer checklist - was a very real possibility.

“No, no. I’ll take care of it. Just stay here, okay?” He shook his head, darting his eyes back and forth between you and the men off in the distance. The hint of stress now coating his voice did little to reassure you. You reached to grab his hand to stop him from leaving, but he patted your shoulder instead.

You looked around for anyone else to butt in, eventually locking eyes with Sam, but he only shrugged lazily in response. The only one that seemed to share any amount of concern with you was Jake.

He was also looking in the direction of the strange men, albeit still choosing to ignore you altogether. You followed his focus, and continued to watch in the distance as Josh caught up to them. He stood there for a few seconds and had the two men follow him back where the cars were parked, disappearing out of your line of sight.

You sat on the blanket for what was probably close to a half an hour, waiting for Josh to return to you. You were undeniably restless as you stared at the spot where Josh left, and if you had picked up the habit of nail biting in your past, they would have been chewed down to raw nubs at this point.

Everyone had shuffled along in an unbothered state as they started to pack up their belongings, working their way back to the lot with their coolers and chairs. Jake and Jenny were nowhere to be seen as they broke off from the group minutes beforehand.

You had concerns that Josh could have left you there stranded without a ride home. You didn’t think he would do it intentionally, but the obvious change in body language when he saw those men made the worry brew inside you.

Having had enough of waiting around, you grabbed your shoes and headed your way back towards the Jeep, praying under your breath that it was still sitting where Josh had left it. The surface of the beach felt quicksand with how your knees wobbled and ached with each exhausted step. When you were nearly off the beach, you were cursed with the sight of Jake and Jenny entangled together once again. This time however, Jake had ditched any subtlety, no longer teasing the idea to you.

He had her propped up with her back against the wooden stall of the shower that was used to hose off sand from the beach. One of his legs was slotted between hers, and you wanted to ignore how she grinded her hips against the top of her thigh. His hand was tugging the hair at the nape of her neck with the other grabbing her chin to pull her lips to his. She had hitched her knee around his waist with her arms locked around his shoulders. You grimaced as you saw his tongue slipping into her mouth, an action that had abandoned any sense of propriety.

The mess of hungry, sensual moans and desperate grabbing of hands that made you so sick to your stomach you could have vomited. Not wanting to witness another second, you shielded your face and walked by as quickly as you could hoping that they didn’t notice you. You were not willing to give him the pleasure of knowing how much it was affecting you.

You padded across the pavement, and a feeling of relief washed over you when you spotted the white Jeep parked in the same spot. When you approached the passenger side door you almost jumped out of your skin seeing Josh already sitting in the driver’s seat alone in the dark.

“Where have you been?!” You scolded, driving the frustration in your tone.

“Oh fuck!” You had startled him as well, making him flinch dramatically from the sound of your voice. “I’m sorry, Greenie. I didn’t mean to-“

When he turned to look at you, he swept his thumb and finger across his nose to wipe a wet streak of red that appeared to be blood from his face. “Oh my god! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just get nosebleeds sometimes,” he sniffled and wiped the drips of blood from his nose with the back of his hand and onto his shorts. It was so dark out that you couldn't really make out any of the details of his face, but you swore you saw his left cheek starting to swell.

“Josh…” You reached your hand out towards him, but for the first time he recoiled from the action.

“Greenie, it's nothing. I promise.” He shifted his body away from yours so he was looking away out the driver’s side to hide the injuries on his face.

“Was it those guys?” You kept your voice low and gentle, yet still direct. The thought of them hurting him made your heart drop from your chest, but you didn’t buy the random nosebleed excuse either.

“I said it was nothing, okay?!” He shouted with his fists clenched against his legs, making you jump back in your seat. This was the first time he raised his voice or showed any anger towards you. Stunned, you could only sit in silence and stare at your nervous hands.

His shoulders slumped in shame and guilt as he let out a frustrated sigh, “Hey, I’m sorry-“

“Josh, it’s fine. Just take me home.” It was the only thing you could mutter out without tears starting to well in your eyes.

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davekat-sucks · 23 days

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Honestly the rhetoric of “Japan isn’t a perfect place” is so hollow at this point because of how obvious Japan’s societal problems are. Yes, Japan does have low birth rates, yes Japan has a harsh and unforgiving work culture, yes Japan does not have a society that reaches out to or discusses mental health of its population, creating a drive towards the growing hikikomori culture where you just stay inside your house all day and ROT. And finally, yeah many Japanese people do not like immigrants, immigration, or foreigners. This is a mix of European tourists being inconsiderate of their culture (it’s getting so bad tourists are getting banned from some districts of Japan for repeatedly taking pictures of geishas even though there are signs with visual clues of stick figures taking pictures of a geisha with a BIG CIRCLE WITH A SLASH THROUGH IT and this also applies to even simple stuff like ignoring the painted rows for getting on trains in a filed line, and a lot of little cultural divisions that you gotta learn before stepping into Asia’s biggest cultural exporter.

Of course, it’s not just the tourists, Japan also hates immigrants mostly because of the continuous cloud of Japanese nationalism that remains in the nation even after the war, which at best preserves landmarks and iconography of old imperial Japan (the naval flag hasn’t changed since 1868, even though the rising sun flag is now associated by Americans, many Chinese mainlanders, and Southeast Asians as a flag of oppression and war crimes since WWII, unless your Thailand, because Japan let Thailand keep their king and even join the Axis powers as an independent state) and at worst racism against Koreans and Chinese people that denies the terror at unit 731 and the massacre of Nanking.

Finally a lot of societal pros and cons of Japan come from 2 things:

1. America is Japan’e sugar daddy, it raised the country from rubble after WWII and created an economic miracle that modernized it so fast that by the 1980s it was developmentally ahead of countries like Italy and France.

2. Japan is dominated by one party since WWII and it only lost that majority for about 4 years after the economic crisis in 2008. It was Shinzo Abe that got the party’s grip on Japan, and economic state, back in the groove.

So Japan is a complex society with many people, a long history, complex politics (did you know Japan is one of the only countries in the global north to have a communist party represented in its parliament?) and it has problems, very human, and some of it does stem from the free-market Conservative politics of the country, and some of it was practices and cultural norms translated to the modern day.

The issue is the phrase “Japan ain’t a paradise ya know” does not address any of this, it more or less just attacks a superficial belief that people who like anime and complain about “wokeness” in western media like anime because anime generally does not explore or address social movements or political philosophy that deals with LGBTQ rights, racism, economic inequality, social justice, or political theory compared to modern american media which has integrated many more openly queer main characters and usually fights a villain who is a megalomaniac aristocrat who wants to get rid of some “other” to return society to “the good old days” and take power as this “great man” which must do what the unwashed masses could not stand up to. The assumption is since anime, and generally in genres like slice of life and shonen (and even beyond the scope of anime, tokusatsu) does not cover topic of modern political and social climate, it’s because Japan doesn’t have to deal with these issues, and is to the anime viewer, a harmonious, enriched, and bountiful society where there’s no crime, no poverty, and everyone is proud to be Japanese and accepts their place in society no matter how trivial their job or position in their community is.

The thing is: NO

Many popular anime and cartoons in Japan can cover modern social issues or political philosophy, it’s just that not all of it is going to get so popular that it gets dubbed or shipped to translation publishers like Crunchyroll or Viz media. The other thing is some Japanese media can cover older or more personal struggles in their works, it can get popular, and that’s alright! Not every piece of media that avoids talking about modern issues is anti-woke! Sometimes a fine story is a fun break from reality, a way to ease your stress from a day at work.

I think when people say “Japan isn’t a paradise you think it is” I think they’re saying that Japan has active movements that fight for more modern political causes like LGBTQ rights and economic reform, and that inevitably, they will win. Some courts in Japan are already considering same-sex marriage to be a right. That’s great.

The thing is, what the nu-fan is also saying is that the pressure of the American audience, and the growing progressive movement in Japan will reform the production and distribution of Japanese media that will introduce a new wave of authors, writers, and even animators who will be more woke than any previous generation of Japanese artists that preceded them.

And when Japan’s media landscape goes woke, where will you turn to to “escape the nu-fans” South Korea?

As if there’ll be 2 Koreas within the next decade.

🇰🇵🇰🇵🇰🇵

Then there's Western companies that are trying to ask JP creators to change, edit, and censor their works in order to fit the standards for Western audiences. If they don't try to persuade them, they do it in more subtle ways through localization without their knowledge. And they will take that advantage that the creator will be fine with it because most don't understand English or Western culture. Sites like Pixiv that is limiting US and UK NSFW content because they don't wish to change the rules for other countries for a site that was exclusively made for Japan. It's why people are starting to accept AI translations as a new way to translate anime/manga/video games over localizers like Crunchyroll. I also think there is a difference in addressing Japanese's political and society issues over policing their media and having to alter it in order to make a quick buck. It's just as bad as Disney removing one gay reference since it isn't part of the big plot to get dem Chinese bux. At least stuff like Apex Legends is having some balls to not LGBT+ shit for Saudi Arabia release without fear of losing money or being killed.

#fandom #fandoms #Western fandom #Eastern fandom

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mariisntreal · 1 month

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I can’t escape the feeling that I’m not smart enough. There’s more to learn, more to know, and I know nothing. I’m not a philosophy student who spends her birthday writing. I’m not an English lit student who reads every minute of the day. I barely know how to pronounce municipality (apparently, I can barely spell it either). I am a poser at heart. I listen to jazz and pretend I know everything. I answer questions with false confidence and accept the undeserved praise with open arms. But I know nothing, and I am nothing. I add documentaries and courses to my to do list, but they sit there collecting dust. If I really craved knowledge, I’d have it. But I am a poser at heart. Do I want to seem smart but not actually be smart? Is that what it is? At night I lay down and obsess over my behaviour during the day

Did I say the right things? The smart things? I dissect everything I did and said until there’s nothing left and I go to bed feeling dumber than I did when I woke up.

I read books with a dictionary by my side because of the number of words I don’t understand and have to look up. I use a dictionary instead of just googling the words on my phone because I’m a snobby, pretentious dick who wants to appear smarter.

I have no socials, and while it’s better for my mental health, I secretly crave the surprise on peoples face when I tell them that.

“Wow, I could never! I love posting on Instagram”

I know, that’s what makes me so much better than you. I don’t waste my time on rubbish like that. I spend my time writing and reading because I’m sooooo much smarter. Except I’m not better nor smarter. I don’t even know if my use of nor in the previous sentence was correct.

But I speak two languages! Surely that makes me a bit smarter than the average person?

No, that’s not impressive, it would be slightly impressive if I spoke 3 or more, but who am I impressing exactly with two languages? My mother who laughs at my occasional pronunciation and spelling mistakes? Or my friends with the thick British and American accents who giggle when I let my Arab tongue slip.

I know I’m a snob, I know I can be an asshole, but I need to fill this desire to be the smartest person in the room, the most impressive, the most interesting. I know nothing, I know nothing, I know nothing.

It will drive me insane.

Why can’t I know things? Like who painted that crappy old painting that’s hung in that crappy old museum. What was the technique used and what the artist wanted us to know. I don’t even have a favourite painting; my favourite movie is toy story and I have a regular degree in psych (a real smart person would have an honours degree). I’m 22 with no job and no great accomplishments. What gives me the right to demand knowledge when I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it.

I study the flags and states in hopes that somebody will ask me to name them, and I’ll have my moment to shine. I read the news and look up interesting articles in hopes that I’ll get to tell someone about it and impress them.

“Oh no I actually read an article; I don’t get my news from social media like other people”

What a piece of shit.

It kills me, it hurts me that I don’t know. What am I then? What am I if not an intelligent, charming, and interesting woman? I’m nothing but a fraud, nothing but a poser. There’s nothing inside me but a tangled-up mess of different desires I’ve had in my life that have never been satisfied.

I feel so small. I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t think I’ll change. My worth is defined by my knowledge and smarts. By grades and praise. But maybe I’m not cut out to be a smart person. Maybe smart people don’t behave this way, smart people are just smart. They don’t act, they just are. Me on the other hand, I’ve been acting since I was young.

But I do really want to know everything. I want to see and experience everything. I want to be wise for my sake as well! Not just for others. I realize there’s a problem in me, I know something is wrong with me. I need so much approval and validation. Boo hoo. Everyone does.

I need to become everything.

I want to swallow the entire world. I want to become the universe. I want to be God.

Even as I write this (supposedly for myself) I imagine you, the reader, and how you’d react to it. Would you maybe highlight something and always remember it? Or would you look away unimpressed and call my work rubbish. How lame…

But I’ll try to not care, I promise I’ll try. I’ll try (and fail) to ignore the voice inside me that craves your admiration. You. Person I’ve never met. Do you think I’m smart?

#personal essay #writing #essay #journal

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katiesharms · 2 years

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the first annual seresin vs bradshaw softball game (or, how to turn moving in together into a competition)

fandom: top gun maverick pairing: rooster/hangman rating: T wc: 3.5k

summary: Jake wants to buy a clock. Bradley doesn't. Somehow, this becomes every one else's problem.

a/n: hey hey! this is my fic for the tgm fic exchange, which fills olympicprune's prompt (i believe your tumblr is @whoreothins. she asked for hangster or hannix and anything domestic. competition is domestic, right? i think it would be for them. i tried to work in as much of the prompt, such as jake's texas roots and his particular tastes. hope you like it!! it was fun to write fluff instead of my usual angst, even if i think the prompt got away from me a bit haha

“Babe,” Jake starts, and before he can even think about finishing, Bradley shuts it down.

“No.” They came to this antiques place in Old Town for furniture, not to outfit a southern honky tonk bar.

“C’mon,” his boyfriend practically whines. “It’ll look great above the mantle.”

“It’ll look great in the dumpster.”

The piece of decor in question is a truly bafflingly large, a clock in the shape of Texas and made of wood painted to look like an American flag. Not only does it offend every design sense Rooster inherited from Carole Bradshaw, but it’s also rather difficult to read. Texas is not shaped to be conducive to clock reading, unlike more sensibly shaped states. Like Colorado or Montana. He’d even accept Washington.

“Don’t you think I deserve to have some representation in our home? I’m moving to California for you, Roos, you gonna deny me this connection to my roots?”

Rooster just rolls his eyes at Hangman’s dramatics, his boyfriend pouting underneath the heinous piece of decor.

“I’ll tell you what,” he offers, “beat me at softball and we get it.”

Jake’s face morphs into a grin. “Oh, Bradshaw you’re so on.”

The softball game has been planned for months, slotted in for their reunion with the rest of the special detachment from the uranium mission. Rooster and Hangman are default team captains, having organized the whole thing as a combination reunion and housewarming party. Adding stakes to it seems like a great idea, in Rooster’s opinion. Especially when he knows there’s no way in hell he’s losing.

After the Mission the two of them scraped off the veneer of hostility over their relationship to reveal something much sweeter and much more honest. Rooster still can’t quite believe that Hangman was just pulling his pigtails for the last 10 years, but he can let it slide, considering it all worked out in the end.

Their relationship progressed quickly after they were finally honest with one another, and barely six months after making it official, they decided to move in together. Going from the decision to actually moving in took a few more months.

Bradley, after the Mission, decided he was done flying, at least in combat missions. He’s still haunted by the way Mav fell out of the sky and how he was told to leave him behind. He’ll never fly a mission again if he can help it.

Instead, he took advantage of the rather generous offer from Cyclone to the dagger squad: a permanent position teaching at TOPGUN. It was extended to all of them who flew the mission, but he was the only one who took it. He doesn’t begrudge the others, though, not even Jake, though he’d prefer if his boyfriend weren’t putting his life on the line for his job. Whatever, he’s learned how to pick his battles.

Once he knew that he’d be in the San Diego area long-term, Bradley started looking for a house. It took way longer than he expected, and by the time Jake came back from his deployment, he still was living in a short-term rental, scouring the area for a suitable place. At that point, they both decided that they’d rather have Jake come home to the house they shared, and decided to move in together.

It took until Jake was sent out again a couple of months later for training to finally find a place. It’s a bungalow a few miles from base, with three bedrooms and a lot of land. The realtor told them it’s a good place to ‘grow into’, and Bradley hopes the two of them do that. When he left, Jake told Rooster to ‘make the house a home’, whatever that meant. Rooster tried his level best - they have furniture, curtains, cookware, even a couple of plants. Honestly, it’s the nicest place he’s ever lived.

But when Jake got back and Bradley asked if they should have a housewarming party that weekend, his boyfriend scoffed.

“Darlin’, we got so much work to do to make this house ready for guests.”

Rooster, confused, glanced around. They had a couch, a TV, and the place is clean. What else is there to do?

“What could we possibly need to do?”

Jake just laughed. “God, you’re such a bachelor,” he said and did not elaborate.

So that’s how Bradley found himself spending his weekends bouncing around Ikea, Hobby Lobby, and more, looking for wall decor, pillow shams, and something called a console table. Frankly, he finds the whole ordeal rather exhausting and isn’t even sure it’s worth it. They spend more time arguing than buying anything, their competing aesthetics making it hard to find a middle ground.

Overall, despite their conflicting interior design sensibilities, living with Jake is easy. Bradley likes to cook, Jake likes to clean, and they both like to fuck on any surface possible. It’s a kind of easy harmony, so different from the push and pull of their early relationship.

One night, as they’re curling up together to fall asleep, Jake says, unprompted, “you know, I’ve never lived alone before.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Rooster asks into the crook of Jake’s neck. “Because I’m pretty sure that mortgage is legally binding.”

Jake snorts but otherwise ignores the interjection. “I lived at home, and then with Coyote at the Academy. Then it was base living and barracks, packed like sardines on a carrier. Even when we were called back to TOPGUN, we were all sharing rooms.”

Bradley has no idea what Jake’s trying to get at. “Okay, and why are you telling me this?”

“What I’m sayin’,” he drawls, his accent getting thicker with drowsiness, “is that I’ve learned how to live with people. It’s a skill not everyone has.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad roommate?” Rooster asks, bewildered. It’s true that he’s spent more of his life living alone than with someone - no siblings, never went to the Academy, and he inherited a house at the age when most of his peers were still living with multiple people. He likes to think he’s considerate, though. He’d even let Hangman buy that huge Brita, taking up space in their fridge.

“I’m saying that it wouldn’t kill you to wipe down the counters after you cook.”

Bradley laughs, a surprised huff more than anything. “Okay, yeah, I can do that. No need to beat around the bush, giving me a heart attack.”

“You know me, I love to hear my own voice,” Jake mumbles, burrowing further into Bradley’s arms. “If there’s ever anything you need from me, let me know.”

“Nah, you’re perfect,” he mumbles, the sentiment genuine, even if he’s glad Jake is sleepy enough not to register the ego boost.

It takes a few weeks, but eventually, the house is acceptable enough, by Jake’s standards, to have guests. They still haven’t furnished the second guest bedroom, and there’s a large, noticeable blank area over the mantle, but it’s a real home now.

(One day, Bradley walked in to see Jake staring at the blank space. “You know,” he started, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I stopped in that place on 12th today. The clock is still available.”

Rooster just flipped him the bird and otherwise went about his day.)

The place is ready just in time, since the one-year anniversary of the Mission and their reunion with the rest of the special detachment is the next weekend.

It’s a miracle that all 12 of them plus Maverick were able to secure leave for the same weekend and manage to travel out to San Diego in time, but Rooster’s stopped questioning miracles in the past year. It seems like every aspect of his life is thanks to a miracle, so he’s learned to accept it.

The pilots arrive in waves, and by 2 pm, everyone is there, Fanboy finally rolling in a good 15 minutes after everyone else. They all spend some time catching up, exchanging stories from their deployments, and meeting each other’s significant others.

Eventually, Jake decides it’s been long enough and raises his voice to be heard above the din. “If I could direct y’all out to the backyard, I believe it’s time for our first annual softball game.”

Rooster hears a few people chuckle at Jake’s direct tone, but everyone obliges, heading out to their spacious backyard. It’s frankly huge, with plenty of space for a makeshift softball game, and backing up onto some open land in case anyone hits some real crazy homers. He and Hangman already set out the bases - four pieces of cardboard repurposed from their moving boxes - as well as set up the batter’s box and pitcher’s mound. Penny provided the bat and ball from her time in college. It’s all ready to go; they just need to pick their teams.

“Alright,” Hangman starts, surveying the crowd in front of him. “Rooster and I will be acting as captains since this is our home. We’ll rock paper scissors for the first pick. Standard softball rules apply, but we’re only playing 5 innings. Three strikes, you’re out, and Mav will ump any base decisions. Any questions?”

The group exchanges a few wary looks, but no one says anything. Satisfied, Jake turns to Bradley.

“Shall we?” he asks, holding his fist out in his palm.

Rooster engages, and the two of them play a best of three set. To his annoyance, Hangman wins.

Grinning, Hangman turns back to the group. “Halo,” he says easily, and the WSO walks up to stand next to him.

“Bro!” Coyote protests, offended that his best friend passed on him for the first pick.

“C’mon dude, you know I had to. She’s the champ,” Jake explains.

It’s true; it’s why Rooster wanted the first pick so badly. Everyone knows Halo won a softball championship in college and continues to play in pickup leagues when she’s on leave.

Rooster makes his pick next, the choice easy. “Phoenix,” he says, and his friend saunters over, a smirk in place.

“Coyote,” Jake picks next, and the draft continues quickly until the only two people left are Bob and Yale.

Rooster assumes he’ll be stuck with Bob. Not that he has anything against the man, but he’s not exactly confident in Bob’s athletic skills. He’s not sure there’s a lot of power behind his throw or his hit.

Then, Jake surprises him. “Bob,” he chooses easily, and Yale, looking offended, shuffles over to Bradley’s team. “Looks like you’ve got both the wonder twins.”

“I can’t believe you picked Bob over me,” Yale says incredulously, and this is why no one wanted him on their team. He’s got a big ego and not a lot of skills to back it up.

“Bob’s my sleeper pick,” Hangman says matter-of-factly.

Rooster’s stomach drops, immediately recognizing the look on Jake’s face. The I know something you don’t look. “Sleeper pick?” he asks nervously.

“Bobby boy here was all-state in baseball in high school. Got a full ride to USC for it. Ain’t that right, Bob?”

The man in question just smiled sheepishly, saying, “yeah, that’s right. Made it to the College World Series my junior year.”

“Mother fucker,” Bradley hisses. Not only does his boyfriend have softball champion Halo on his team, but he also has Bob. “I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

“All’s fair in love and war, baby,” Jake winks and Bradley suppresses an eye-roll.

“How did you even know?”

“I knew he looked familiar when we first met, and after the mission, I figured it out. The 2012 College World Series. He was the cute shortstop I had a crush on.”

Bob chokes on air. “You didn’t tell me THAT was how you knew.”

Jake just shrugs, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Bradley wants to kiss it off.

He turns to survey his team. Phoenix he’s confident in, knows she can field well, and hold her own at bat. Fritz is athletic and a speedy runner, so he can be sneaky and steal a few bases, turning singles into doubles. Payback has great aim if the way he used to pelt Rooster and Hangman with any object near him whenever they made out for too long in public is any indication. He’s a little worried about Harvard and Yale, but he’s hoping their weird synchronicity translates to a pitcher/catcher dynamic. If not, he can shuffle them to the outfield. At least they both have strong arms.

Both teams are three people short, so they’re bolstered by the various plus ones. Harvard’s wife gets stationed at first base once she tells Rooster she used to play in a league before she had kids, and Fanboy’s boyfriend is placed in the outfield when he asks, not ironically, how they can score a touchdown. Rooster’s team is rounded out by Penny, whom he immediately places at shortstop. He trusts her with his life, and his softball hopes. Jake gets Omaha’s wife, Halo’s boyfriend, and, to Rooster’s relief and Hangman’s chagrin, Amelia. Maverick decides to act as umpire, and Rooster hopes the furtive glances he sends his godfather’s way are hint enough that he’ll tip the scales in his team’s favor. He’s afraid Amelia has him beat on the manipulating Maverick angle, her youth working to her advantage.

“So,” Jake addresses the group before they flip the coin for who bats first, “I hope y’all know that this isn’t just any game of pickup softball. This game has stakes, consequences. It may be the most important game of your lives.”

The significant others start exchanging worried looks with their partners as a few of the pilots try to suppress giggles.

Rolling his eyes, Bradley cuts in, “basically, if Hangman wins, we have to hang the gaudiest clock in the world in our house. If I win, we don’t become candidates for ‘Ugliest Home in America’.”

“C’mon dude, you can’t say that and not show us a picture,” Fanboy protests.

Acquiescing, Rooster pulls out his phone and shows them all a photo. He took one of Hangman pouting under the clock. Even if the clock is ugly, his boyfriend is cute. He hears Phoenix let out a low whistle while Fritz suppresses a snort.

“Don’t worry, man,” Payback says, “we will not let that happen.”

It turns out, they do let it happen. Harvard and Yale end up being practically useless, and Fritz pulls a muscle in the third inning. Amelia, to his shock and horror, was the first freshman in school history to make her high school’s varsity softball team, and Rooster can’t believe Mav and Penny let her play them like that. Soon, it’s the bottom of the fifth, and Rooster’s team is down by three runs with almost no hope of coming back. He decides to rally the troops for one last hail mary.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says to his huddle. “We’re changing the order. I’ll bat first, then Phoenix, Payback, and the Fritz. Fritzy, you have to hit a homer. Failing that, Penny, you need to bunt a run or two in. Got it?”

His team looks at him like he’s a bit crazy, but they nod in agreement.

The plan goes to shit pretty quickly. He and Phoenix both get on base, but Payback gets caught out. Fritz hits a double instead of a homer, so they’re able to score, but then he’s tagged out limping to first. Penny bunts a single, and then his interior decorator hopes and dreams rest on fucking Yale.

He hits a line drive straight to Bob, and it’s over.

Bradley collapses to the ground, groaning in defeat as Jake whoops in victory. He can only hope that someone with worse design aesthetics than his boyfriend has already bought the clock.

He’s on the ground for an indeterminate amount of time, but definitely too long for it to be normal (hey, he has a penchant for dramatics, sue him!), when he feels a pair of arms drape themselves on either side of his neck, lacing together across his torso.

“Aw, darlin’, don’t be such a sore loser,” Jake drawls into his ear, brushing his lips against his earlobe just enough to make his skin tingle.

Despite his less than amorous current feelings towards his boyfriend, Rooster finds himself leaning back into Jake, feeling his knees hit his lower back.

“You’re one to talk,” he eventually responds. “Remember when I beat you at pool and you wouldn’t ride me for a week.”

He can feel the heat of Jake’s face blush rather than see it, keeping his eyes trained carefully on their friends in the middle distance.

“Gonna dole out a similar punishment?” Jake’s voice is even, if a bit breathy.

Bradley chooses then to turn his head towards Jake, making eye contact with where he’s leaned over.

“Forget about that clock, and you won’t have to find out.“

Despite his best efforts to keep a real threat in his voice, Jake doesn’t believe him, laughing immediately.

“Not a chance, babe. You agreed to the rules of the game, so you have to hold up your end of the bargain. Don’t go pot committed if you can’t afford to lose.”

Bradley lets out an annoyed huff and pushes himself to his feet. He allows Jake to keep his arm draped across his shoulders, but he’s not happy about it.

After the game, it’s the perfect time for dinner, so Rooster starts up the grill, preparing to throw some burgers and corn on it. He’s whistling to some 80s classic, focused on scrapping the grill off, when he notices that people are staring.

“What?” he asks, a little annoyed.

“New apron?” Phoenix is trying valiantly, and failing, to suppress a smile.

Scowling, Rooster looks down. “Fuck off,” is what he says instead of answering.

“It is new,” Jake answers for him. “Housewarming present.” He winks at their friends, and then proceeds to follow the instructions on the apron and kiss the cook. They only break away when Rooster can hear Amelia gagging. Rooster continues to scowl when Hangman pulls away, but he knows his boyfriend can tell it’s a front.

Jake starts to set the table and put out the sides while Bradley grills the meat, the two of them working in the easy tandem that’s come to define their relationship.

Dinner is a loud, chaotic affair, full of overlapping conversation and raucous laughter. Bradley loves it. He’s spent so much of his adult life alone, drifting from assignment to assignment with no real roots, spending his leaves by himself in his empty house. But now, he has his Uncle Mav back, he has all these other pilots. He has Jake. A real infrastructure of love and support to prop him up through life.

After they all eat and start drinking in earnest, everyone splits off into separate parts of the backyard. Normally, Rooster would be in his element, flitting from group to group, entertaining with his loud shirt and his loud personality. Right now, though, he’s content to watch Jake do it. He’s still not used to having so many people greet him with warmth instead of hostility, and Bradley delights in watching Jake enjoy it.

He’s alone for only a few minutes when someone sets a beer down on the table next to him, sliding into the empty seat.

“So, Rooster,” Coyote says, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I’ve got a very important question to ask you.”

Bradley tenses immediately, thinking of all the possible things Jake’s best friend could want to ask him. “Yeah?” he prompts nervously.

“Does Phoenix ever ask about me?”

He laughs involuntarily, relief bleeding into the sound. “No!” he answers, truthfully and easily.

“Does she ever look like she wants to ask about me? Or that she’s thinking about me?”

“Coyote, I can say with absolute confidence that the inner workings of Phoenix’s mind are a complete mystery to me.”

“I can’t believe Hangman told me to ask you; I knew you’d be useless,” Coyote laments, and Bradley decides to take pity on him.

“Look, since you were such a help when Jake and I were still figuring stuff out, I’ll offer you some Natasha Trace insider info.”

Coyote perks up immediately, shooting Rooster a grin. “My man!”

“Phoenix likes men who are confident, direct, and respect her. You’re definitely the first, and you already do the last, so just be direct with her and I’m sure she’ll respond.”

Coyotee nods along, absorbing the advice. “Okay, okay, sounds like a plan. Thanks, dude.” And then he’s gone, sauntering over to where Natasha is holding court with Bob and Halo.

Bradley feels a body settle into Coyote’s empty seat, and when he turns, it’s Jake.

“How much you wanna bet he crashes and burns?” Jake asks, gesturing with the beer in his hand towards where Coyote is practically swaggering towards Phoenix.

Rooster pretends to contemplate it, gauging the way Natasha leans her body slightly towards the other pilot.

“How about one Texas-shaped clock?”

Jake grins. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he says, sealing it with a clink of their beers.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #hangster #my writing #jake 'hangman' seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw

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