#F-22 Pilot

[nocternalrandomness]

F-22 Pilot Capt. Nichole "FIRE" Bahlman from the Air National Guard 199th FS at Hickam AFB, Hawaii

[mal1k3th]

I talked to a recruiter yesterday ❤️

[wallpapers4screen]

[pilot4008]

"Stealth Jet Fighter Illustration" Cap for Sale by PatternFusions | Redbubble

[joelslegalwhre]

drunk confessions

word count // 2.056k

pairing // jake “hangman” seresin x f!bradshaw!reader

summary // You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it

warnings // established relationship. (slightly)drunk!reader, mentions of alcohol, lightweight reader, nicknames for reader (bubbles, sweetheart, etc.), Bradley is in big brother mode, the mission I mentioned isn’t from the film, the pilots still live in their own apartments (all near the base) for this fic, soft!hangman (that man alone is a warning but him being soft???), affectionate Jake and a ton of fluff

a/n // This is the new version of "drunk confessions" from '22! I just changed the wording a little, but nothing of the plot has changed. I loved writing this two years ago and if anyone wants more Hangman, don't worry I have more to come because same haha Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers ❀

(as always, please tell me if I missed a warning)

Masterlist

You and Jake started dating almost a year ago when Bradley and him were together at Top Gun. 

Rooster and Hangman had never been the best of friends, everyone knew that, so it was never the right moment to tell him about the two of you. The risk of Bradley being angry or perhaps even disappointed was too big. At least that’s what you thought. 

Jake understood why you didn’t want anyone to know. And although he’d love to just scream it out into the world, that he was dating the younger Bradshaw, that he was without a doubt the luckiest man on fucking earth, he respected your decision. 

Jake knew that you’d do the same for him without a question.

You wanted to tell Bradley eventually, just right now wasn’t the right time. But the real question is, when was it really? 

Jake had a hard time keeping away from you whenever you were at the Hard Deck with the team. You mostly spent your time at the bar with Penny, to keep her company and to catch up with the latest news - often involving your godfather. 

She and Maverick were so obvious sometimes it made you chuckle, but you really hoped he wouldn’t let her down this time. But Amelia and you would ensure that. 

From your seat at the bar, you also had a perfect sight at the pool table. A lame excuse to stare at a certain blonde pilot all night. 

Jake would always be the first to voluntarily get a new round of beers for the group, and no one complained about it. They were all so caught up in what they were doing, that no one noticed how he eyed you all night, ready to be by your side in seconds if anyone were to bother you. 

-

“Hey Penny, sweetheart. Another round please!” he gave her a wink and shot her one of his handsome grins. Penny nodded with a smile in return and turned around to get seven cold beers for the young pilots. 

“You look smokin’ hot, baby.” he whispered to you as his bright eyes met yours. They had this glow in them every time he looked at you. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Seresin.” you teased him with a wink. 

“I can do way more than look good. Whatever you want, Bradshaw.” he grinned while his hand secretly found yours on the bartop, his broad frame shielding it from preying eyes. 

You chuckled lightly, “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah, babe. You better wait for me when everyone’s gone. I need to take ya home with me.” he flirted shamelessly in his southern accent you loved so much. Jake knew you’d do exactly that anyway, since you basically lived at his apartment at this point, but where would be the fun?

-

Not even Phoenix knew about the two of you, so you could say both Hangman and yourself did a rather good job. 

This time was different though. 

They were all going to meet up at the Hard Deck tonight, for another night of pool, darts and what not. The next mission was in less than a week, and you just wanted to spend as much time with Jake as possible. Just like he wanted to with you. 

Jake hated to keep his hands by himself when you were just a few feet away, playing darts with Fanboy or Bob. You never hid from them, after all, Rooster was your older brother. If you weren’t talking to Penny, you spent your nights with them, laughing, drinking and chatting. 

Not tonight… tonight would be different.

You met Penny at the bar in the late afternoon, to help her get everything ready before the first guests would come in. Amelia was staying at a friend’s house, so you gladly took over her part. 

When everything was ready for the Hard Deck to open, you sat down at your regula seat at the bar. 

Penny looked at you from the side while she turned on the lights underneath the bar. “Can I get you anything?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Can I get a beer?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Penny smiled gently. She put the bottle down in front of you, and you took a large sip. 

“So,“ Penny started, putting her hands on the bar, arms on each side of your beer. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’ve been out of it today.“ You looked up at her, and she had this look on her face that gave you so much comfort. You knew you could tell her everything and she’d keep it safe. 

„I… I’ve been thinking about…„ Yeah, what exactly was it that you thought about ever since opening your eyes today? 

You didn’t even know. Not really. 

You thought about telling Bradley about your relationship with his rival, screwing everything. But you’ve also thought about keeping it to yourself just a little longer. The upcoming mission was creeping into your mind at every thought; What if they didn’t make it? You didn’t want to think about that more than just a second. Not about your brother nor Jake. 

He would come back, and he’ll be fine. This wasn’t his first mission.

“I don’t even know Penny, I’m so confused.” you sighed and let your head fall into your crossed arms. 

“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know you will.” she said, caressing your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes, her kind smile calming your racing thoughts a little. 

Not enough, though. 

That night, you kind of ignored your limits of how much alcohol you could handle in one night. You got pretty much drunk. Not to a point where you could throw up or blackout, Penny was in charge of the bar after all, but the kind you’d be rewarded with a nice headache the next day and your mind to be pretty foggy. 

Drinking wasn’t one of your strengths. That’s why Jake liked to jokingly call you a lightweight, and he couldn’t be more accurate with it. 

You’ve been sitting at the bar for a good part of the night now. The team had already greeted you when they came in, asking you to come with them, but you declined, telling them you’d maybe join them later.

“Penny.” you tried to get her attention, a sudden certainty in your voice, “Please excuse me. I have to go and get some kisses now.“ 

“That’s his boyfriend duty,” you said with a confident nod. “You know, happy wife, happy life.” 

Penny had no idea how no one of the team could see the glances Hangman gave you. How he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. If anything happened, he’d be there in a heartbeat. And those poor guys who tried to flirt with you were quickly intimidated by his death stare. 

Penny just laughed. She had kept a close eye on you since your third drink of the night, the last two she gave you were non-alcoholic, but you didn’t have to know that. 

She ignored your choice of words at the saying, not changing ‚wife‘ to ‚girlfriend‘ with a chuckle and motioned you to go. “Go and tell Jake then.” You looked at her with wide eyes, “How did y‘know I’m talking about Jake?” 

Penny tilted her head with a smile, “Sweetheart, I notice things.” she winked, “Now go and get your man.” 

The next thing you knew, you were trying to your boyfriend at the pool table. 

“Hey, Jake!” 

His head snapped in your direction at the use of his first name. You were the only one calling him that. And the first name basis got everyone else’s attention as well. 

“Yeah?” he tried to not be too obvious. But his concern about how you were feeling was rising with every second. 

You didn‘t stop at the pool table, but walked up to him. Until you stood right in front of him. You looked up into his bright eyes, filled with curiosity.

“I need kisses.” you told him with a pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so thrown off by what you were saying, that he almost forgot the others around him.

Jake unwrapped your arms from his neck and placed his hand on your lower back. “I think you need some water and sleep, bubbles.” he couldn‘t suppress the small grin that grew on his lips.

„Kisses?! What the fuck is-„ Rooster started but was quickly interrupted by you, “Oh for god’s sake shut up Bradley.” you hushed your brother in honest annoyance, turning to him. 

“I love you, but I’m sick and tired of hiding something from you that’s important to me, just because I’m scared of what you’ll think or do.”

Hangman’s gaze was a mix between shock and pride. That you just straight out told your brother and all of your friends standing around you, about the two of you. Not keeping it a secret anymore. He knew it took a toll on you, and he’d told you multiple times to just tell Bradley for your own sake.

“Oh my god” you heard Phoenix breath out a laugh, while the others couldn‘t find words, still shocked, while some of them were exchanging amused looks.

Bradley didn’t. He looked back and forth between you and Jake, not able to process it all quite yet.

„Sorry man, listen I-„ 

“Just give me a second, okay?” Rooster cut Hangman off, stomping to the bar. 

“Let him be,“ you said while curling yourself into his side, hugging his arm close to your body, “He’ll be fine by tomorrow, the old drama queen.” Sober-you would probably be scared Bradley would be angry or disappointed. 

Good thing you weren‘t sober right now. 

“Babe, how much did you have to drink?” Jake whispered, as he bent down a little until his lips reached your ear.

“Ohh, not that much.” you assured him as you tried to sound sober, looking up at his face, only inches away from yours.

He looked back to the bar, finding Penny’s gaze. She mouthed something like “water” easing Hangman’s concern about your drunken state.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh, sugar?” he softly smiled at you. A real smile, one he had reserved for only you. 

You instantly shook your head in disagreement, “I swear, I’m not-„ you yawned, “that tired.” 

“‘Course you aren't” he mockingly smiled down at you.

“C‘mon, on my back.” he ordered, putting his hands behind his back, ready to hold your legs for support. He bent down, and you tried your best to hop on his back. You wouldn’t win anyway, and sooner or later - you preferred later - he’d carry you out the bar. 

You rested your head on Jake’s shoulder and wrapped your hands around his body. Your eyes already closing as the exhaustion betrayed you.

“Wow, Hangman, nice one.” Coyote teased him, the others joining in with laughter. Who would’ve thought Hangman had a soft spot.

“Shut it, Coyote.” Jake said with a look that would make anyone run for the hills.

“See you tomorrow, lover boy!” Phoenix joked. 

You giggled on Jake’s shoulder, “That’s a good one!” you lazily turned your head in her direction and smirked, Phoenix and the others laughing back at you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Jake complained, giving your ass a little smack.

“Hey.” you giggled, but did nothing in response. Your head ached a little, and you hadn‘t had the strength nor willpower to do so. Just relived to be carried, you let your head sink back on Jake’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” you whispered to Jake as he carefully sat you down on the passenger seat of his car. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding yours. Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips and he smiled. 

The slight smell of alcohol was surrounding you, but Jake couldn’t care less. „I love you, and I’ll never let you go, that’s for sure. You’re all mine, baby.“ he whispered back between small kisses, giving you goosebumps. His scent surrounded you as you wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him even closer. “Good.” you grinned and pulled him into another, longer kiss.

Masterlist

[pilot4008]

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F-22 Raptor intercepting a Russian Tu-95 Bear

[huxhsz]

✈ — weightless paradise

transmigrated non-mc!reader x caleb

prev ch: 06 - name┆series masterlist ┆next ch: 08 - fear

This isn’t how the game was supposed to go. You're not supposed to be here. You're an anomaly. But if you’re already here, then… can’t you just enjoy it for now? Just for a little while? Before the main story begins? Before everything inevitably falls into place? ...Right?

— content warning/s:

n/a

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

CH. 07 — DREAM

The shelter smells faintly of metal and disinfectant, the lights overhead flickering unsteadily. It's cramped, the thin walls barely holding out the noise of the chaos outside—the distant screams, the sharp cracks of gunfire, the low rumble of something massive moving through the city.

You sit near the back of the room, knees pulled to your chest. Eden is beside you, small and quiet, her head resting lightly against your shoulder. Caleb sits across from you, legs stretched out, a book open in his hands.

It’s been days since the Chronorift Catastrophe. Days since the world fell apart.

Outside the shelter’s narrow window, the sky is hazy with smoke. Occasionally, sleek black shapes cut through the gloom—fighter jets. The only organized response left, streaking through the sky like sharp lines of silver and black.

“Look!” Caleb’s hand shoots out, finger tracing the sky.

You follow his gaze, squinting into the glare of the sun as a sleek, gray aircraft cuts across the sky. Twin afterburners flare behind it, leaving a faint vapor trail in its wake.

“The F-22 Raptor,” Caleb breathes, eyes alight with rare excitement. “Fifth-generation stealth fighter. Twin-engine. Thrust-vectoring nozzles give it insane maneuverability. Those wings? Delta configuration for reduced radar signature.”

He grins, teeth flashing as he watches it arc into a sharp bank. “Mach 2 top speed, internal weapon bays for reduced drag. And the AESA radar? Practically untouchable in a dogfight.”

He’s glowing—animated in a way you rarely see, his hands moving as he explains. You can’t even pretend to understand half of what he’s saying, but you don’t stop him.

“Imagine flying that,” Caleb murmurs, voice soft with wonder. His gaze follows the jet until it disappears beyond the clouds. “You wouldn’t have to answer to anyone. Just you and the sky.”

Freedom. That’s what he means.

“You really know your stuff,” you say, glancing at him.

Caleb shrugs, but the edge of his mouth lifts in a self-satisfied tilt. “I read.”

He taps the battered book on his lap. A technical manual of some sort, the cover worn from overuse. You’ve seen him pouring over it for days now, flipping through diagrams and schematics. The people at the shelter didn’t have much to give, but someone handed Caleb a box of old books, and he’s been devouring them ever since.

“You want to fly?” you ask, and you already know the answer.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice soft with longing. “If I could…” He trails off, shaking his head.

You think of the facility. Of the cage you lived in. Of the walls that Caleb once tried to tear down with his bare hands. Flying—leaving it all behind—wouldn’t that be… freedom?

Caleb sighs, stretching his arms behind his head. “Guess I’ll have to settle for the next best thing.”

“And what’s that?”

He smiles. “Learning how to fix them.”

He says it so casually, like it’s normal to talk about high-level military tech. Like it’s not strange for someone who was raised in a lab to know this.

“You’re seriously into this, huh?” you say.

Caleb’s gaze follows the fighter jets until they vanish behind the smoke. His expression softens, a rare crack in his guarded exterior.

“You want to be a pilot?”

“Maybe,” he says. Then, quieter: “I want to know what it feels like. To leave.”

You don’t know what to say to that. He’s never known freedom. None of you have.

“I’d become a Deepspace Hunter.”

Eden’s voice is soft but steady. You and Caleb both turn toward her. She’s sitting up now, her dark eyes bright despite the dim light.

“To protect myself,” she says. “From the Wanderers. So I don’t have to rely on anyone else.”

She’s so sure of it. Like she’s already decided.

Caleb hums, his mouth curving into a small smile. “Good plan.”

She tilts her head toward him, her expression earnest. “And you? Would you protect people too?”

Caleb’s smile fades. He looks back toward the window, his gaze distant.

“I don’t know,” he says. His voice drops lower. “I think I’d just want to go where no one could reach me.”

Silence settles between you. Eden leans her head back against your shoulder. Caleb’s eyes linger on the sky.

And you—

You don’t know what you want.

You were pulled from your world and dropped into this one without warning, without preparation. You’d adapted to the lab because there was no other choice. But now?

You stare down at your hands. They’re shaking.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

Eden closes her eyes, breathing evenly. Caleb’s hand shifts, resting lightly beside yours on the floor. Close, but not touching.

It’s not much. But it’s something.

[rosalyn51]

“I’ve got great stories from those [Downton] sets. We actually gave Maggie Smith one of the greatest days of her life, she said.” -Matthew GoodE

From Deadline June 7, 2025

DEADLINE: I know why you are not doing the third Downton Abbey film. You had knee surgery and you’ve explained all that, but —

GOODE: It was a half-a-page scene.

DEADLINE: Were they going to kill you off?

GOODE: I spoke to Michelle [Dockery] at length about what we could possibly… I think we were going to try and ask for a slight rewrite or something or other. And then eventually it was just that they were moving ahead. It was a big racecourse day, so the thing was booked, and I was never going to be able to do it, which was a shame because I love that cast. To be on a set with Hugh [Bonneville] and Allen [Leech]. I’ve got great stories from those sets. We actually gave Maggie Smith one of the greatest days of her life, she said. She came off [set], and she said, “I think that might’ve been my favorite day on a set ever.”

DEADLINE: What did you do?

GOODE: It was the wedding of our characters, and we shot it out very secretively somewhere out in the countryside. I think in Oxford somewhere. And our green room for 20 actors was the garden of an ex-Concorde pilot. This is going to sound jolly unprofessional, and it is a bit unprofessional, but it’s f*cking funny. He came out with a bottle of rosé and just put it on the table, a bottle of Minuty, which was a nice Aix-en-Province rosé. And obviously all the other actors, they looked at it and they’re like, “No. Well, obviously we can’t do that.” I’m just a bit naughty. I don’t know if it’s coming across or not. And it was really hot, and it was looking at me and the perspiration was rolling down the bottle and I said, “I’ll have a glass, thank you so much.” And I sat and I quaffed it bloody quickly. And I said, “Is it OK if I have another one?” And then you started to see all the other actors, particularly the ones that didn’t have any lines that day, just a big ensemble piece, none of us had that much to do, really. So we all started drinking. We went through 22 bottles of rosé. No one was drunk. But my god, were we merry. And if you’ve made Maggie Smith happy, then it can’t be wrong. He was a gentleman and it was a gorgeous house and gorgeous garden as well. And also we gave them good stories because then suddenly they’ve got a ton of half-cut, quite famous people in their garden having great fun. So, they’ve got anecdotes for the rest of their life. I wouldn’t do it again though for any future producers listening.

DEADLINE: No, of course not. I know this is the final Downton film, but if there was a spinoff, would you ever do it?

GOODE: Ultimately, it’s a very difficult thing to balance. And if you think about Mary [Dockery] I was sad I wasn’t going to go and do it because it would’ve been a giggle. But when you think about it in the terms of she’s a modern feminist, a feminist icon, Lady Mary. Wouldn’t it be great if something surprising happened to her? I don’t know, I didn’t read the script. I only had the page that they sent me. So, let’s hope that someone from her past, the people who Downtonites adore, like a Charles Blake or someone like that. There are a lot of people that loved Charles Blake for her. If he comes back and scoops her up. Or, she doesn’t need a man. You know what I mean? Why does she need a man? Why can’t she just be Lady Mary? And why can’t she keep a harem of men? Use them for sex and then get back on the tractor?

DEADLINE: Right? That was who she was when we met her. She didn’t need a man.

GOODE: Yeah. She was killing men when we first met her.

[falafels]

FAMILIE GORDON of Birmingham, Alabama

For the purposes of the socmed, which has spawned lore in my horrible little rat mind

Obviously none of this is relevant or real, but this is just for reference when they come up in the socmed au. I also might change my mind on half this shit. never let em know your next move

oldest to youngest: Marcus, Jeremy, Tabitha, Ricky, Seth, Jessie, Michael, Jamie, Scotty

EC canon says 7 boys and Jeremy as second oldest who was basically in charge after Bryan Sr. left and Rebecca (mother) gave up when Seth was 8 and started going by Seth (Bryan Seth Gordon officially). Seth was 22 at the start of tfc i believe so the ages are going from there

Marcus (33) was born when Rebecca was still in high school so he’s a bit older than the others and had moved out, which is why Jeremy ended up raising the rest of them. Also because Marcus lowkey sucks. He means well and gets involved for big stuff but is generally just a bit unpleasant and directionless. He offers Seth his first joint at 11 years old and it doesn’t occur to him that maybe don’t do that

Jeremy (29) was the only one to leave Alabama. When Bryan Sr. left and Rebecca checked out, Jeremy ended up pretty much raising the rest of his siblings. Marcus didn’t, but the unofficial deal was that Marcus would deal with Rebecca- her stumbling in as the sun came up, her missed bills, her drunken vitriol about Bryan. This arrangement went on for years, and when Jeremy was confident they could take care of themselves, he packed his shit into the car and didn’t look back. He drove to Atlanta and stayed in Georgia, where he now lives with his fiancée May and his dog Pedro, and he’s training to be a pilot. He stays in contact with some of his siblings, mostly the older few, but those years took a huge toll on him in a way he never really processed. he feels guilty for how he handled it and how order just came from beating the shit out of each other, he feels angry for having been put in that position, angry for the childhood that ended so abruptly, angry at every adult who stood by. He doesn’t talk much to Marcus and he never speaks to their mother again, but he does come to Seth’s final college exy game and his graduation.

Tabitha (27) looks just like her mother and inherited her horrendous taste in men. She goes by Tabby if she’s in a good mood, which is rarely but you don’t find that out until she’s backhanded you for calling her Tabby. Having also taken on a decent amount of responsibility when their parents gave up, Tabitha never really got the time or energy to grapple with teenage self-loathing so it followed her and manifested in a string of men who treat her like shit, more than one of them violent. She stayed in Birmingham because she’s more attached to her family than she’d like to admit, and because she’d become a bit obsessive around Jessie. As the only two girls, their relationship with each other was a bit different to the others and for someone who comes off as cold as Tabitha can, it seemed suffocating to Jessie. Tabitha did genuinely mean well and was trying to stop Jessie from making the choices she did, but ended up alienating her by coming off controlling or cruel. Like Seth, Tabitha has a bit of a history with harder drugs, but she’s less willing to name it or the grip that addiction had on her and writes it off as phases with boyfriends.

Ricky (24) is Seth’s closest brother and greatest tormentor- all in good fun, but he has also locked Seth in the trunk and done doughnuts in his car before. Ricky wanted to be a race car driver and ended up working at an auto body shop and loves it. it’s not entirely above board but he gets to throw tyres around and sometimes drive the cars really fast down dirt roads so what the hell else does he want. He got Seth a job there in high school (didn’t last) and everyone there has been there forever so it’ll probably be his someday. he has an on-and-off girlfriend called Rita but she’s a bit too into oxys for it to work. he tries to cut it off with her for good after seth’s first overdose but ultimately it’s just endemic and so many people in his life are on drugs that it barely makes a difference and he stays with her

Seth (22) is closest to Ricky and Jessie just because of ages and he’s the only one to have gone to college so they all think he’s gay (idk if the american south has this as well but the meth division of my family all think im gay because i went to uni. thats not why) and half of them just call him college or treat him as wikipedia, which aaron finds out one day and has to physically school his reaction. Seth is teaching him how to make a bong out of an egg when Jamie calls and asks Seth what language they speak in Indonesia and when to know if you need to amputate your foot if it’s been stuck inbetween trees for six hours

Jessie (21) is probably chained to a tree somewhere in South America. Jessie was the one who taught Seth (and the others) Sylvia Plath, mostly through brute force, because she thought the bell jar was important reading. She wasn’t the smartest student, but she’d engage hard with the work that she did do, hence getting very into poetry, feminist theory, climate science, canadian history, and cajun cooking, and making it all everyone’s problem - if Jessie has an interest you are Going to hear about it and you are Going to care. or your ass is getting beat. climate science was the one that really stuck, and Jessie joined some environmental groups, initially largely for the freely shared weed but the cause is important to her, something about being able to save something or preserve it. She’s the one that found Seth after his first overdose and she threw out every drug in the house as well as Jamie’s vape, which earned her a broken wrist from being thrown at the wall by a teenage boy who doesn’t realise his strength but would probably have done it even if he knew that would happen. Jessie is the only one to speak plainly to Seth about his addiction, and she’s the one that convinces him to accept Wymack’s offer. Matt is terrified of her.

Michael (19) and Jamie are twins (non-identical so what’s the point of all that nonsense really) but Michael is the quieter of the two. this isn’t to say he isn’t still a primary actor in any gordon sibling shenanigans, it just means he’ll sit thoughtfully in the corner while the others debate whether a chainsaw or punching is the quickest way to take down the fence before he gets up and drives the big sit on lawnmower right at and through the fence. Michael is very bright in a way that’s overlooked by his teachers because he isn’t particularly enthusiastic, but he would like to study more if he got the chance. Seth used to make Michael and Jamie be defenders if he was practicing exy out the back of the house, but this just meant giving them motorbike helmets and diy body armour (bbq lid duct taped to chest) and running at them full force. Michael would just kind of let this happen because he knew Seth would beat him in a fight if he said no, but resisted enough that Seth realised a bribe would be necessary if he wanted Michael to actually participate, so brought him books (as recommended by the elderly local librarian Seth had been flirting relentlessly with)

Jamie (19) would be easy to write off as a moron, but it’s actually just that he genuinely enjoys a lot of stupid shit. makeshift exy was his favourite- he didn’t know or care what a backliner was but he got to chase Seth with a stick and slam him to the ground. he went through a bit of a skater boy twat phase (think like a young carl gallagher with a vaping problem and a skateboard) where he mostly just hung out with dickheads that only really ended when a girl in his class was so unbelievably vicious to him about it (justifiably) that he changed his ways and also decided he was in love with her. it will never work because his idea of a fun date would be tasering each other in a car park then shooting fireworks at each other and hers is. well not that

Scotty (16) also responds to ‘cuck boy’: having eight older siblings who have all heard the song “Scotty doesn’t know” is basically a death sentence RIP Scotty. Scotty is so much younger than the rest of them that he’s kind of living in a whole different genre- Seth is on his whole college sports underdog thing and wrestling with addiction, Jeremy coming to terms with parentification and quietly looking into CPTSD, Tabitha in her limbo of trauma, Jessie determined to save the world because she can’t save anything in front of her, Ricky in the fast and furious franchise driving fast enough that he never has to think too hard about why he needs the adrenaline, while Scotty likes science but wants to be a musician and is finding this to be the primary source of inner conflict in his life. He’s a sweet kid who barely knows Rebecca and drags Ricky to most of his parent-teacher conferences (his teachers, horrified, try to end it quickly, having survived him and come to consensus that Ricky Gordon was the worst student they’ve ever had. Scotty knew that and it’s why he chose Ricky), and hands out flyers and demo CDs for his band around the city centre.

I’ve also decided in the socmed au that Seth didn’t die but that overdose did still happen and he was hospitalised and in and out of a coma for the rest of the season, and given that his contract with PSU was five years on the team, he’s redoing his senior year.

[nocternalrandomness]

F-22 Demo Pilot Maj. Paul "Loco" Lopez getting ready to show off the Raptor at the Offutt AFB Open House

[gunsandspaceships]

MCU Timeline: Iron Man. Part 4 (May 2008, after Afghanistan)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

May 4:

10 am - Pepper helps Tony change the reactor.

~12:30 - Tony goes to Edwards Air Force Base to offer Rhodey the chance to become the armor test pilot. Having been refused to be heard, he decides to become the pilot himself.

May 5 - Tony begins the Mark II project.

May 14 - Board of Directors meeting in New York. Stane came back with pizza to inform that "they" are filing an injunction against Tony. Pepper brought the "Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart" reactor to Tony's lab along with a mug of coffee.

May 15 (Day 11 of "Mark II" project):

Morning/afternoon - after 36 tests, Tony has a successful 37th. However, he does not immediately go on a full test flight.

Evening - he puts together Mark II and goes for a full flight test in LA.

Night - Tony finally notices that poor coffee mug and Pepper's gift.

May 15/16 - photos of the Jericho and other SI weapons in the hands of the Ten Rings were taken. Which means that Obadiah supplied the terrorists with a new batch of weapons, including this missile system, sometime between April and May 15. Around this time, the Ten Rings attacked Gulmira.

May 16:

Before 22:09 - Tony rests from the test flight and his injuries, makes notes for suit upgrades, gives Jarvis instructions for Mark III.

Night (May 16-17), (2 weeks after the press conference) - 3rd Annual Charity Ball. Tony is there after 11:00 pm, May 16 (his watch shows 10:09 pm, add the time it takes him to get ready and change, plus the drive from his house to Disney Concert Hall takes about an hour, but this time he's driving, so the drive takes less time). Coulson is there and asks him for an appointment on May 24th. Tony spends some time with Pepper.

May 17:

~12 am - Christine Everhart informs Tony of a new arms shipment to terrorists from SI. Tony asks Stane about the under the table deals, and Stane tells him that he's behind the attempts to lock Tony out.

3 am - Mark III is ready. Tony returns from the Charity Ball, takes off his jacket and shirt, and while finishing his glove watches the report from Gulmira.

Evening/Night (~8 pm) - Tony gets into Mark III and flies to Afghanistan. It probably takes him about 3-4 hours to get there with his speed of about 2000 mph.

May 18:

~10:30 am (Afghanistan) - he attacks the Ten Rings in Gulmira, saves the villagers, and destroys the Jericho.

~11 am (Afghanistan)/11:30 pm (LA) - Air Force spots him in the no-fly zone and tries to shoot him down. Tony saves the pilot and escapes.

~6 am (LA) - Tony is back home. Pepper finds out about his adventures.

Marvel forgot about the time difference and forced Rhodes and Major Allen to work at night.

Afternoon/Evening - Rhodey gives a press conference about the "unfortunate training exercise involving F-22 Raptor". Stane watches this on tv.

May 19 - Stane in Afghanistan. He meets with Raza, takes Mark I and kills the terrorists. He orders SI engineers to begin work on the Iron Monger suit.

May 19-24 - Tony repairs his armor and recovers from his injuries. Stane and SI engineers build the Iron Monger suit.

May 24:

~4 pm - Tony sends Pepper to retrieve the shipping manifests from the SI mainframe.

~6 pm - Pepper at SI. She gets the data and learns that Stane was behind the assassination attempt on Tony. Stane finds out about this.

On the computer in Tony's office we see the time 13:46. But throughout the whole scene with Pepper it remains the same. It also doesn't make much sense if Coulson just sat there all day knowing his appointment at 7 pm. Thus I assume this time is incorrect.

7 pm - time of Coulson's appointment with Tony at SI. He and Pepper go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. Stane rushes to his engineers, demanding an update on the arc reactor. After receiving bad news, he decides to take it from Tony.

Coulson tried to catch Tony for a debriefing from May 2nd to May 16th, and then waited for his scheduled appointment on May 24. He wasn't hanging around there for 6 months (until October 24th), as stated in some timelines. It's simply ridiculous.

~9 pm - Pepper calls Tony from the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. Stane paralyzes Tony and pulls the reactor out of his chest, leaving him to die.

In 10-15 minutes - the paralysis begins to subside and Tony goes to get his first reactor. He barely makes it in time due to arrhythmia (but Dum-E saves him) and loses consciousness after inserting it.

~ 10 pm - Pepper calls Rhodey and he rushes to Tony's house.

~10:30-11 pm - back at SI Stane inserts Tony's reactor into his armor. Rhodes finds Tony unconscious in his lab.

~11:30 pm-12 am - The Battle with Iron Monger.

Remember that the time required to get from Malibu to the SI headquarters by car is approximately 1.5 hours, and from Malibu to Edwards AFB is almost 2 hours. Let's make allowance for the fact that Rhodey had to drive like crazy in Tony's Audi to get there ASAP, so it took him about an hour to get there.

May 25:

Afternoon - "I am Iron Man" press conference.

Evening/Night - Tony meets Fury, who broke into his house.

MCU Timeline: The Infinity Saga

[wickedwanchii]

Happy late birthday to the world's favorite Lieutenant Colonel, Alfred F. Jones ✨️

Here he is sporting his brand new P-47d, the Darin' Dallas, ready to take to the skies and show the world what all an Ace can really do! You can find him flying with the rest of them boys in the 317th, so be sure to give him a kiss when you see him next, for extra good luck!

Extra nerd stuffs below the cut

Alfred can be seen here standing atop a P-47d, AKA a Razorback. This is a sturdy escort fighter and a low-level bomber, notorious for being able to sustain some serious damage and remain flying. Alfred flew two P-47s during his piloting career, with this being the second known as the Darin' Dallas (fictional ID 42-25824). While this plane met a kinder fate than it's predecessor, the Desert Dandy, it saw a small but distinguished portion of its time in service under the capable hands of LTC Jones as he flew with the 317th Fighter Squadron.

Jones flew the Darin' Dallas from December 42-September 43, where it was withdrawn from service as the Squadron transitioned from using mostly P-47s to P-51s, which was when he went on to fly his finest set of wings yet- The Franklin Express. The Darin' Dallas continued in service after leaving the 317th, where it saw continued action in the Pacific Theatre until 1945, and then remained in service with Air National Guard until it was fully retired in 1948.

The Darin' Dallas is a P-47D-23-RA, a variation of the 22-RE from the Evansville Plant, and was one of 889 planes of that variant type built at that location. This is one of the last production blocks before the plants began producing the Bubbletop D-variants, which was a switch done to improve rearward visibility. One of the most common complaints from pilots flying the Razelorbacks was limited visibility towards the aft of the plane, as the design restricted the view since the entire back portion of the cockpit was constructed of metal with glass panels inlaid. When the switch to the bubbletop was made, this replaced the metal with a full glass "bubble," effectively increasing cockpit visibility to cover the entirety of the plane.

[usafphantom2]

How the SR 71 program died

Someone once wrote that her enemies will not be natural.

They embodied the worst human emotions: envy and greed, a burning anger toward something that they wanted, but they knew in their small hearts that they would never obtain.

It angered them knowing that there were men that were so much better than they were.

They weren’t good enough, so they made the good ones pay. They didn’t care if they ruined careers or stalled promotions because bringing them down was what brought them up.

The Pilots and RSOs (reconnaissance systems officers) flew in an airplane without any armament at 85-90,000 feet above the Earth. Theirs was the fight for justice and freedom from 1964 to 1990 of a War that never ended. We are still fighting a Cold War against communists. They put their life on the line for the freedom of the United States.

These SR-71 Warriors were going to battle as they dressed slowly and precisely in their pressure suits. These brave men knew they may never come home again to their family. ( 12 Blackbirds were lost to accidents) Their families shared in the glory, and in the tension that surrounded them, I noticed that some of my fellow Habubrats have anxiety disorders. That is understandable.

SR-71 was not designed for airshows or any glory it was designed by the Skunk Works to stealthily find out what our enemies were planning.

THE SR-71 PREVENTED WAR.

Satellites could never replace the SR-71. Satellites don’t orbit east to west. Satellites can’t collect 100,000 miles of data per hour and it is easy to predict the path of a satellite. There was new money for projects in the Air Force if they went with satellites.

The Air Force Chief put Lockheed out of the SR 71 business. The Chief said that Lockheed trying to keep the SR 71 alive was going to hurt their chances of winning the F-22 contract! Contractors like Lockheed only have one customer the Department of Defense.

The SR 71 funding was in trouble because first off the Air Force did not use the data collected by the SR. The users were the Navy, Army, DIA, and a little bit (ELINT) for NSA.

U-2 funding was in the General Defense Intelligence Program DIP controlled by the DIA. The Air Staff could not get at that money or they would have.

The SR money was in Program One called Strategic Forces. The reason once this very large amount of money was being spent on satellites they no longer wanted to fund the SR-71 The SR went from a national collection platform to a Tactical intelligence asset.

The SR 71 would be flying today like the U-2 if the Air Force had not gotten the funding data. ( The U2 is supposed to be retiring again. I’ll believe it when I never see a U2 in the air again.)

Linda Sheffield

My source is the soon-to-be-published book “SR-71 to Skunk Works “written by Colonel Richard “Butch” Sheffield

This is a picture of the SR 71 retirement ceremony at Beale Air Force Base, California.

@Habubrats71 via X

[pilot4008]

F 22 raptor

[oceansssblue]

100 celebration — PROMPT 22 = FORCED TO SHARE HEAT/ONE BED.

PAIRING: WRECKER/F READER

WARNINGS: FREEZING TEMPERATURES, SUGESTIVE&MENTIONS OF WRECKERS BIG BOY BUT NO PROPER SEX SCENE (IMPLICIT AT THE END), PURE FLUFF 💖🔥

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"Fucking pirates".

Your low, grumpy mutter echoes in the Starfall; your body slumping down on the pilot's seat like a toy whose battery has finally ran out. A deep sigh of relief follows your closed eyes; stress and adrenaline slowly disolving inside of you. You can still feel your heartbeat pounding inside your chest. This has been too close to death to your liking; and even with Wrecker at the gunship, the Starfall has not escaped unfased.

You let yourself breathe for five too short seconds before you're jumping out of the chair to run a check on the ship's system; brow inmediately frowning at the flickering lights and the myriad of warning signs fighting for your attention.

"How bad is it?" The thump of Wrecker's steps are tired and heavy as he climbs up from the gunship, voice echoing against the walls of the Starfall as well.

You take a glance at his worried face –the scars pulling at his skin– and study the system again. You inmediately start to tincker with your ship –you know it like the palm of your hand by now–; redirecting energy and efforts where it's most needed.

"We'be been badly hit. We can't jump into hiperspace as it is" you explain, humming distractedly while you continue to work on your ship. The light's stop flickering, turned off by now, and another set of softer ones replace them. You give him the bad news, voice full of dissapointment and resignment. "It'll take us two extra weeks to get back to Pabu. Apart from that, our main worry is gonna' be the cold. I've set the emergency heat reserve on, but it'll probably only last us a day or two".

Wrecker shrugs and grins. He had almost expected to hear that they had one engine less or a wing of the ship had been completely shut down; more time alone with you and a bit of cold isn't going to kill him. Hell, the worst part of this situation is probably how worried Hunter will be; and the cost of the repairs needed.

"Are coms still available?" He asks, hopeful.

You nod tiredly; at least you can give him that...

Wrecker smiles and pats your shoulder comfortingly.

"Then we'll let them know what happened with those pirates and we'll take this as a small vacation break" he suggests, and even if you're exhausted and frustrated, it's impossible to stay grumpy around him for too long

At least you're stranded with Wrecker and not Crosshair, you say to yourself. Wrecker is a very easy-going person; and his positivity may make this delay feel less catastrophic than it is. You can't imagine how irritating two weeks of listening to the sharpshooter's dry sarcasm and complaints would be. He'd probably blame you for not navigating your ship good enough; even though everyone knows your piloting skills with the Starlight have no one to envy.

Well, there's nothing you can really do now. You'll try not to fret and follow your friend's advice.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first night the temperature starts to drop, but the cold is managable and only really noticed after a sneeze or two and the need to throw an extra blanket on top of your current ones. On the second, the cold hits hard; your body shivering and trembling unconsciously throughout the night and making it impossible to sleep for more than a pair of hours straight without waking up. It starts to get dangerous on the third night; fingers hurting in small pin pricks of pain and muscles and joints loudly complaining with each move.

It's in the middle of that fitfull night when something carefully dropping on top of you makes you groggily blink awake. You try to scan your room in the darkness of the Starlight, barely making sense of Wrecker's figure there.

"Mm?" You manage to mumble half asleep.

"Sh... Go back to sleep, mesh'la. Just checking on you" Wrecker's soft voice inmediately answers back.

You're so exhausted you fall back to unconsciousness almost inmediately; your body relaxing in relief at the sudden extra warmth.

In the morning when you wake up again and find two extra blankets on top of you, you quickly understand the small interruption of the night. You push them aside in order to stand up; but the cold inmediately bites back, and you decide to pad over to Wrecker's small room in front of yours with two of them wrapped around you.

When you peak your head inside and see him trembling in his sleep without any blankets on, your heart clenches in gratefullness and affection. A bit worried too, you touch his forehead gently to check on his temperature; Wrecker inmediately groaning and catching your hand in his while he blinks awake.

"Your hand feels like an ice cube" he mumbles, and you apologise inmediately, taking it back.

"Wreck..." you sigh with a small grateful smile. "You shouldn't have given me all your blankets. You're cold too".

Wrecker yawns and pulls his body up in a sitting form. He rubs his face and then his neck and the top of his shoulders with his hand before focusing on answering you.

"Mm. I have my thermoregulator blacks on, and I always run warmer than you anyways" he explains gently. "You were unconsciously whimpering in your sleep from how cold you were, mesh'la. I couldn't go back to sleep after hearing you suffer like that".

"Thank you" you say, and you really mean it. Wrecker's one of the most selfless persons you've gotten to know. "You know... We could sleep in the same cot. It'll be a tight fit for sure, but we could share all the blankets together. That way we'll both stay warm".

While your voice is completely casual and unbothered, Wrecker's facial expression fills with genuine surprise.

"Oh... If you're good with that, mesh'la" he seems a bit hesitant, perhaps not wanting to invade your space or privacy, so you smile soothingly.

"I'll get us some nutribars to eat. Let's just try it out tonight, alright? If it doesn't work we can go back to how we were" You suggest, and Wrecker nods distractedly.

His eyes don't leave your retreating figure til you dissapear in the direction of the cockpit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a day of both interesting and just-to-kill-time conversations pass by, the night starts fairly well for the both of you. You're not really cuddling together at first; just laying on your sides and doing your best at fitting together in the same bed, trying to respect each others spaces as much as you can. Your natural body heats are enough to make the temperature under the four piled blankets warm enough; and for the first time in three days, you go to sleep without a single mind curse against the cold around you.

The kriffing cold doesn't take a respite, though; and perhaps because your body is no longer moving your temperature drops a few hours after and you wake up trembling again, swallowing your groans of dissapointment at the no longer functionating idea. Wrecker doesn't seem to hold the same problem; you can practically feel his body heat besides you.

You don't really think it through before you're slowly and quietly pressing closer to him; freezing toes trying to find a warmer spot below his legs.

Wrecker makes a small pained rumble with his throat, and you stop on your mission, glancing up at his sleepy face. He doesn't bother to open his eyes, though you know you've woken him up from his slumber. You fill a tiny bit guilty.

"Sorry" you whisper quietly. "Can I?"

Wrecker hums in reluctant acceptance, and one of his big hands plops down on your back, hugging you towards him with a mumble under his breath you can't even descipher even if you strain your hearing.

You shrug it off and enjoy the warmth of his body with a pleasant sigh, toes finding their perfect home under his body and hands being tucked in between your chests. You can feel Wrecker's deep sleepy breathing in front of your face. You're tempted to stay awake for just a pair of minutes if just to watch him in this relaxed state –one you've never really seing him in–; but you're so comfortable and tired you follow him into dreamland in a matter of seconds and you barely move an inch until late in the morning.

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On night number five, you take the liberty of directly cuddling against him; hiding your cold nose in his neck and hugging him gently under the blankets.

"Mm" you mumble with your lips almost pressed to his skin. "This is great".

Wrecker chuckles and his hand tightens on you involuntarily.

"Yeah... Ur' so small. Fit like the perfect teddybear".

You grin and nuzzle against him. He's so big and warm, and such a good person... You've always felt safe around him.

"Mm, so I'm Lula's replacement now?" You joke around, and Wrecker's chest moves once again with his low chuckles.

"Only til I get back to her" he follows your joke, smiling in the near- darkness of the room.

You both chat for a bit til you start doing a competetion of yawns and you decide to call it a day; falling asleep with a smile pressed against his neck. This is starting to feel like a vacation, yeah.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A week after your unfortunate encounter with the pirates, movement wakes you up in the middle of the night. There's no day and night in space, really; but the lights on the Starfall are designed to dim with the hours until they completely turn off, so it helps you to keep track of the days that pass by.

You start making sense of your surroundings as your mind slowly drifts back to counsciousness. For once you're incredibly warm, and it pulls a satisfied smile upon your face. You stretch slowly, lazily. Wrecker mumbles behind you; pressing his body firmly against you. The movement pushes you forward slightly, not too far away because of the tight grip he has on your hip; and you inmediately understand –and feel– what exactly has woken you up, blushing in flustered embarassment. Wrecker's erection is iron hard –and so big, fuck– against your ass; his own hips slowly thrusting back and forward periodically.

You call him in a mortified rasp.

"Wrecker..." he doesn't react at all, so you clear your voice and call him more firmly, squeezing his forearm, voice loud now in the silence of the ship. "Wrecker, wake up".

The clone stirrs with a confused, disorientated hum.

"Mm? Whats'up?" He grumbles, breathing pattern changing and body finally stilling with his return to consciousness.

"Wrecker, you've been... You are..." you try to say, your cheeks on fire, and he suddenly processes the situation he finds his own body in upon openning his eyes.

He's aroused, and his erection is firmly nestled against your ass. He vaguely remembers himself moving while he dreamed of...

He inmediately backs off with a curse, back pressing against the cold wall behind his bunk.

"Kark, I'm sorry!" Maker, this is so fucking embarassing. He wishes the ground could just swallow him. "I-I didn't mean to... I was dreaming and..."

He tries to justify himself, cringing at how he's not really fixing the situation much. He suddenly grows a bit worried and anxious. He holds so much respect for you... What if you just lose it for him, what if you now see him as someone who'd take advantage of a situation like this, of you being asleep? Luckily for him, you don't seem to take it as an offense or anything of the sort; just looking as mortified as he is.

You try not to picture what he could be dreaming of and ignore your own warmth bubbling inside of you; turning around to face him in understanding.

"S'alright, Wrecker" you soothe his worries. "We all have one of those from time to time, nothing to be ashamed of. We're just happening to share a bed in a bad time for that".

You chuckle nervously, and Wrecker feels partially relieved.

"Maybe we can just cuddle the other way?" You carefully suggest. "Or do you want to..."

You let the ending of the sentence fall on him, and Wrecker inmediately shakes his head.

"I'm not going to rub one out in the bathroom" he winces at how crude the words sound coming out of his mouth, but he really doesn't want you to think worse of him.

Hell, this is uncomfortable as it is right now; he can't imagine how it would feel if he dissapeared for some minutes in the sonic before returning and joining you in bed again.

You try to ignore the situation and act unbothered. It's the best way to dissolve this awkwardness. It's not his fault, really. You're feeling a bit aroused yourself now, inevitably.

"Okay, turn around then" you encourage him with a grin. "I'll be the big spoon for once".

Wrecker sighs and gives you an unsure smile.

" 'Kay" he whispers, moving to face the wall and showing his back to you. "Jus' hit me if I make you uncomfortable, please".

You laugh quietly and settle on your side behind him.

"Noted" you whisper cheekily, and to your own surprise, you spontaneously gift his left shoulderblade with a quick affectionate peck.

Wrecker hums almost as a way of saying "thanks"; and you're left awake with a million thoughts and questions in your head.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It happens a few more times along the week –sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes in the early hours of the morning–; til the point you both develop a kind of rutine out of it. You nudge him and gently push him away as he lingers between reality and sleep; both of you re-arranging your positions in the bunk quietly before losing yourselves to dreamland again. If it's in the morning you just stand up and check the Starlights' curse in the cockpit, update Hunter; while he stays alone in bed until he appears through the corridor with a tiny guilty smile on his scarred face.

"We'll be arriving Pabu tomorrow" you announce finally one day, shooting him a grin. "Not having to share a tiny bed with me much longer, Wreck. You're gonna' have your Lula back".

He gives you a hesitant smile. You don't know if you're seeing things after the recent sudden realisation of your own feelings or if he is indeed dissapointed by this.

That night when you cuddle in bed your grip on him is a little bit tighter than usual. You'll miss this.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter is inmediately relieved upon your arrival on Pabu. Omega, already recovered from her injury –the main reason why they had stayed back this time– runs to greet you; and you chat with her while you answer all of her questions about your encounter with the pirates. Tech greets you politely and inmediately asks permision to take a look at your ship; and you don't think it twice before giving him full access to the Starlight. You know he must have enjoyed a bit of de-stress time with Phee; but also miss putting his incredible mind to the test. You'll let him entertain himself.

After two weeks without natural light and a permanent scenery, Pabu looks prettier than ever with it's colourful sunsets and the beauty of the sea. It'll be great to eat something other than nutribars as well.

That night, though, when you lay down on your bed in the bedroom you share with Omega, you can't help but feel a bit lonely. You're surprised at how incredibly quickly you've goten used to Wrecker's sleeping presence beside you; at how much you wish he were still here.

When at breakfeast he asks you if you slept well, and lightly comments on how good you probably feel with your big bed back, you hesitantly push the truth out there with the slightest bit of humour. You're not sure if he really likes you or if all of his reactions these past few days have been a result of needed closeness, and there's nothing more to look in there. You don't handle rejection well, you don't like feeling vulnerable; so you'll joke around it for now til you're sure of it.

"I don't know, Wreck. You make a good pillow" you smile at him, and Wrecker answers with his own personal grin.

Un-noticed by the two of you and having his breakfeast in silence, hip pressed against the kitchen counter and bandana abandoned in his nightstand for once, Hunter studies you in quiet surprise.

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That night when you're unable to fall asleep again, mind always spinning in the direction of the man sleeping in the adyacent room, you make up your resolve and quietly pad to Wrecker's door. You open it as carefully as possible; scanning his sleeping form while nervously biting your lip. He's awake, thankfully; taking a glance at the door sleepily to see who it is.

"Hi" you whisper, adding in a shy, unsure tone. "I'm cold. Can I..."

You're beginning to think this was not a good idea. It's definitively not that cold. There's no excuse anymore, and maybe you've read it all wrong and...

Wrecker opens the single blanket to the side and makes a lazy gesture for you.

"C'mere" he answers, interrupting your spiral of thoughts, and making you sigh in relief.

You climb in bed with him and melt onto his welcoming hug.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Every night after that one, once Omega falls asleep, you quietly move to Wrecker's room; the clone always inmediately making the space for you to lay with him. He doesn't ask, and you no longer explain; both of you tip-toing around your growing feelings, just a tiny bit hesitant to take the final step.

Summer starts to arrive in Pabu. First you both abandon the warm blanket; then the bedsheet, and finally swith to short-sleeved pijamas. You're a bit wary and nervous about the lack of an excuse; but Wrecker chuckles and softly tells you that you can go cuddle with him even when you're not cold. You give him a happy smile and your lips slowly press against his cheek; Wrecker blushes, and you grin. Everyone notices the slow progressive development between the two of you; the rest of the Batch arching eyebrows and glancing at each other while they try to remain patient in their expectancy.

The next lazy morning, when you wake up spooning and feel his erection again, you bite your lip and squirm involuntarily. Wrecker wakes up with the shuffle –not jumping away anymore at the realisement–; and mumbles a sleepy "sorry" before moving to turn around to face the other side of the bed.

You're quicker than him. You feel your body burning in affection and heat. You grab his hand so that he stays as he is; and turn around to look at him. You finally sigh and give in.

The kiss is slow, sweet and soft; yet deep and heartfelt. Wrecker makes a tiny surprised sound with his throat before he's completely melting in the bed; hesitantly resting his right hand on your hips and gently tugging you towards him. You hum in delight and welcome him; one leg going over his own hips so you can press your bodies closer together, feel him against you. You kiss him more intently, heart beating furiously inside your chest and impatience growing; Wrecker's hand finally cupping your ass and pulling a small pleased moan that makes him groan as well.

You take a moment to breathe and bite your lip. Wrecker makes another low sound with his throat; glancing at them before looking at you in the eyes.

"Not fair for you to be this sexy this early, mesh'la" he whispers in a raspy voice.

Your cheeks flush, but you smile suggestively and caress his scarred cheek affectionately.

"I can show you sexier if you wanna' " you whisper back at him.

Wrecker's big hands gently squeeze your ass before he's pulling you on top of him in a smooth movement. His smile is radiant while they travel upwards to caress your back.

"Oh, I wanna' " he chuckles, joining your lips together again inmediately, and you grin into the kiss.

I'll have to thank those pirates for this, you think, some minutes later, while you lose yourself into the bliss.

THE END.

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Here we have the first prompt of the 100 celebration! Hope y'all liked it. 9 more to go!

Xx,

Blue.

PS. You'll be able to find all my other prompts under the tag "100blueprompt" or in this list as I publish them (I recommend saving the following link and check it from time to time):

Or You can also let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any/all.

In the mean time you've got a lot of other stories in my sw masterlist!

<3

[pinturas-sgm-aviacion]

1942 12 27 New Guinea, Commonwealth Wirraway - box art MPM

Wartime History: Assigned to No. 4 Squadron code D. On the left side of the nose was painted "Ugh!" with a character wearing a derby hat with "A. R. P." and a fork. On the left side of the nose was a scoreboard with three bomb markings indicating missions flown and a single Japanese rising sun flag indicating the aerial victory claim on December 26, 1942.During early 1942, operated from Canberra Airfield (Fairburn). In early November 1942 flown northward to 12 Mile Drome (Berry) near Port Moresby.On December 22, 1942 took off from from 12 Mile Drome (Berry) near Port Moresby and flew four sorties, two piloted by P/O Ranson and two by F/O Utber. The first two were reconnaissance over Buna and two artillery observation and gun spotting over Buna.On December 26, 1942 took off from 12 Mile Drome (Berry) near Port Moresby piloted by P/O John S. Archer, 409285 with observer Sgt J. L. Convulsion on a tactical reconnaissance over the north coast of New Guinea searching for Japanese barges at the mouth of the Kumusi River then southward to Gona. Next, Archer made a single strafing pass against the shipwreck of the Ayutosen Maru. Pulling up to make another run, Archer spotted another plane approaching 1,000' below and incorrectly identified it as a Japanese "Zero". In fact, this was Ki-43-I Oscar pilot W/O Tadashi Yoshitake. Taking advantage of their higher altitude, Archer dived down onto fighter firing a long burst with his two machine guns and as he pulled away saw the enemy plane crash into the sea and explode. This was the only time a Wirraway made a confirmed kill against an enemy fighter. Later, Archer stated that he had acted on impulse and was lucky to get in an effective first burst. On January 20, 1943, Archer earned the American Silver Star from U.S. Army Air Force (USAAF) Brigadier General Ennis Whitehead, commanding general of Allied Air Forces in New Guinea. On October 16, 1944 at 1:00pm while Wirraway A20-80 was taxing, it accidentally collided with this plane causing damage. Afterwards, this Wirraway was withdrawn from service.