#Naval Homecoming

[ltwilliammowett]

First Home, by John Chancellor (1925-1984)

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never felt like this before in his life. As soon as he spent a few minutes in your presence, he needed to keep coming back for more. Your touch and your voice were already making this homecoming something he was hoping to repeat, and he decided to keep pressing his luck.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley getting handsy

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley promised he would pick you up in an hour. That gave you essentially no time to get yourself ready to go out. At least you didn't have those typical first date jitters, because you and he had already taken the time to slowly get to know each other over the past few months. All of the emails from him that you'd archived into their own folder in your inbox felt precious now that he was home. Now that he surprised you at work. Knowing what he felt like and seeing the way he moved in person seemed to be the only missing pieces, and now everything fit perfectly in your mind when it came to Bradley Bradshaw. 

While you weren't nervous about getting to know someone new, you were a little antsy about trying to make yourself look as nice as you could in an hour. After you'd worked all day. For your first date with a man you already couldn't get enough of. He reminded you that he wanted to take you to the beach, as if you could forget the splendid details he'd divulged over the phone a month ago.

He told you he was going to wear jeans, nothing fancy, but when you looked in your closet, everything seemed tragically terrible. You could practically feel time ticking away as you yanked a simple sundress from its hanger and pulled it on over your cute underwear set. Not that he was going to see that tonight, but it made you feel good regardless. It also made your skin feel flushed as you thought about the photo you'd sent him where you'd gone topless under your bedding, and you squeaked when you heard knocking on your door. 

When you pulled it open, he was there, like a dream. Earlier in your classroom, when he interacted with your students, it felt like you had imagined the whole thing. But nothing felt as real as the warmth in his voice when he softly said, "Hey, Gorgeous," as he filled your doorway with his broad shoulders.

"Hi, Handsome," you replied, even as he leaned in closer until your lips were met with a kiss as sweet as the ones he treated you to earlier. He seemed to be taking your desire to be kissed as soon as he saw you to heart. Either that or he just couldn't help himself, and you were more than okay with either scenario. 

Your fingers ghosted along the buttons of the loud tropical print shirt he was wearing. The fabric was soft as he deepened the kiss enough to let you feel his rough mustache against your skin before pulling away. All of the teasing kisses from a few hours ago made you want to pull him inside toward your couch, but he was already reaching for your hand.

He looked a little tired, and once again you got butterflies knowing he wanted to spend his first evening home from a very long deployment with you. As he smiled and wrapped his big hand around yours, he asked, "You ready for me to show you why deleting that dating app was the best decision you'll make all year?"

Your lips parted in soft surprise at his confidence and his little smirk. Granted, so far, he had no reason to behave otherwise. You let him guide you outside, and you locked your door as you said, "I thought getting my students to send mail to a deployed Naval aviator was my best decision?"

He hummed softly. "Seems as though you can do no wrong."

It was like floating on a cloud, having his attention and gaze fixed on you. How in the world this man wasn't already locked down was mystifying. As his rough thumb trailed back and forth across your knuckles, the butterflies started up again in a big way. It was actually happening. The first date that you'd been daydreaming about on repeat was here. He was following through with it, and now you were expected to act normal.

When he unlocked the door and helped you climb up into his insanely cool truck, he said, "It looks like you can't stop smiling, which is great, because it's a beautiful smile."

You laughed softly and covered your eyes before groaning softly. "I'm just still kind of in shock." You peeked at him from between your fingers. "When I woke up this morning, I was convinced something terrible had happened to you... or that you ghosted me."

Bradley looked truly concerned as he coaxed your hands away from your face and said, "Baby, you thought I ghosted you?"

You gave him a little shrug and said, "The thought crossed my mind. I know you said sometimes they shut off communication from the aircraft carrier when-"

He silenced you with his lips on yours, cupping your cheek with his big hand before breaking away to say, "I've been thinking about you since I unfolded the first letter you sent. And I've been thinking about today since you gave me your personal email address. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not going to ghost you, Gorgeous." Just as you felt embarrassed for having admitted that much to him, he kissed you again and said, "I want to get you Thai food and take you to the beach. It only took me thirty-seven minutes to get here in traffic, and it should be even shorter now. Since we're going to be doing this drive with frequency, I want to learn the best times for it."

You made a soft sound as his thumb continued to stroke your cheek, and you nodded as you said, "Let's do it."

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

Bradley laced his fingers with yours as he drove down along the coast back to Coronado. The time it took to get to your place was really no big deal to him, but he didn't want it to seem insurmountable to you. Traffic in San Diego could be a nightmare at times, especially in the evening, and he didn't want you to think he wasn't more than willing to do this. Especially after you thought he may have ghosted you. And especially since he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend. 

You and your students got him through his deployment in a way nothing else ever quite had before. Your letters and emails were informative, funny and thoughtful, and you had this addictively subtle way of always letting him know he was on your mind. After months with Vanessa, all he got was a bad attitude, a partner who clearly wasn't invested, and an email about a water bottle. 

You were singing along to a song he happened to love when he chuckled to himself as he changed lanes. "What's so funny?" you asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "My singing voice isn't that bad."

"Your singing voice isn't even slightly bad," he replied easily, glancing at your face in profile as you smiled. "I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend."

"Oh," you said as your smile vanished, and your hold on his hand loosened. 

"Shit," he grunted. "Not like that," he promised, tugging on you gently while trying to focus on the road. "You and I had exchanged more emails halfway through my deployment than Vanessa and I did in seven months. And I'm hoping you'll keep emailing with me on occasion, even though we can text and talk on the phone right now, too. I associate my inbox with you now."

"Vanessa?" you asked, avoiding the rest of his statement. "Isn't that the name of Jayden's dog?"

Bradley nodded. "It sure is," he replied with a laugh. "One of the reasons I always liked his notes the best."

You were looking out your window now as the pretty coastline started to give way to a view of North Island across the bay. "I'll keep emailing you. How could I not? Texts and phone calls would be a bonus."

"I told you, you're going to get sick of me soon, Gorgeous. That's how many of my texts and phone calls you're about to be on the receiving end of." Bradley kissed your fingers as he turned to cross the bridge that led to Coronado, and he murmured, "Start thinking about what you want to eat for dinner. We're almost there."

He would erase all doubts about him from your mind. Your hand already felt like it belonged in his as you and he walked into the takeout restaurant while you listed off some of your Thai favorites. The two of you seemed to translate well from interacting through screens to physically being together, and the fact that he already wanted to put a label on this was a bit surprising to him. But there was still a lot he wanted to ask you about and tell you first, which was proving difficult when you looked up at him with bright eyes as a beautiful smile. He practically blurted out the world girlfriend as you told him you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat.

"What are you getting?" you asked. "I'm torn between Pad Thai, Yellow Curry and Tom Yum Goong."

"Let's get all three," he replied before kissing you. 

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as you asked, "All three? I can only finish one."

"Yeah, we can share them," he whispered, kissing you softly again. "My appetite is huge." When the person who was working at the counter had to clear their throat to keep Bradley from pulling you closer to his body like he had earlier in your classroom, he begrudgingly ordered not three, but four entrees while you laughed. 

"You weren't kidding," you mused as he paid for dinner.

"Listen," he told you as he put his credit card away. "There are three things I'm never going to joke about. Food is the first one. My mom always made me clean my plate, and I never outgrew that. If I'm willing to eat two servings of dinner from an aircraft carrier mess hall, then I'm probably going to eat at least that much if it's food that actually tastes good. And second, if I say there's a spider and that I need you to come quick, there is absolutely a spider that I need you to take care of for me." You laughed and bit your lip as he said, "And third, I'm never going to joke about how attracted I am to everything about you."

Bradley tried his best not to cause a scene in the small restaurant, but when you ran your fingers along the scars on his face and up into his hair, his hands found their way to your hips, and your body was snug against his. He didn't say another word, and you didn't either. Neither of you moved any closer for a kiss. You just brushed your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally tugging a little bit, and he thought he could lose his mind this way. With you smiling softly at him, silently and unknowingly showing him that your touch was uniquely something he'd been craving for so long.

"I'll take care of the spiders for you. Don't worry," you told him as you grinned.

"Baby, that's like dirty talk," he replied, his words making him think of that one photo you sent to him of you in bed. You dipped your head, trying to hide from him as you laughed, and he leaned in to kiss your jaw just as his name was called. "You ready for dinner?" he mumbled, knowing he was about five minutes away from his stomach growling loudly even though standing here with you was one of the nicest feelings in his recent memory.

"Let's get you fed," you told him, patting his firm stomach and accidentally snagging one of his belt loops with your finger. He had to bite the inside of his cheek against the growing need he felt for you as you reached out to grab the bag of food, and he followed you back out to his Bronco like a lost puppy.

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

After some debate about where you wanted to sit since the wind was starting to pick up, you chose a blanket on the sand over the back of his Bronco. You honestly weren't sure Bradley could even fit back there comfortably with you. He was so tall and broad, and his legs were so long, you'd practically have to be on top of him so he'd have room. Your mind wandered to the idea of him spilling off of his couch while you snuggled with him, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face as he helped you down onto the sandy asphalt of the parking lot.

With your hand in his, Bradley led you around to the back door where he pulled out a picnic blanket and a cooler. The wind picked up and you shivered a bit, wondering if he would let you curl up against his warm chest and his tropical shirt. 

"I brought this just in case," he told you, turning to reach back inside and grab a well worn, gray sweatshirt that said TOP GUN across the front. He held it up, and you nodded, and then Bradley pulled it over your head for you, his fingers skimming down your sides as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks," you murmured as the oversized garment kind of swallowed you up. It was so soft over your sundress, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to take it off. And the look Bradley was giving you as you stood before him in it warmed you up as much as the shirt itself.

"I like the way that looks," he said, voice a little raspy as the wind pushed at his wavy hair.

"Bradley."

He shook his head, brown eyes fixed on you. "And I like the way that sounds."

You didn't need to eat anything. You could be sustained on making out in the backseat. You thought about telling him as much when he groaned softly, handed you the beach blanket and picked up everything else. "If we don't get settled, we'll miss the sunset, and the food will be cold."

He pressed one hot and heavy kiss to your lips before nudging the door shut with his hip, and you scampered after his long-legged gait to catch up with him. When he asked you to pick a spot for the blanket, you spread it out near some tall dune grass, away from some of the other couples who seemed to have been lured out by the promise of a pretty sunset. And just as you predicted, Bradley sprawled himself out and took up most of the space, leaving you sitting right at his side.

You helped him open up the containers of food and the disposable utensils, and then you watched him reach into the cooler and hold up a bottle of Prosecco and a bottle of a local craft beer. You pointed to the Prosecco, and he opened it for you as you said, "I know you told me you don't have much family, but you mentioned your mom? And how she always made you clean your plate?" You couldn't help but be curious, especially since you'd already told him a bit about your own family through email.

"Yeah," he replied evenly as you took a sip of Prosecco right from the bottle when he didn't hand you a cup. It was sweet and cold, but you almost choked on it when he said, "She died years ago. So did my old man. He was in the Navy, too."

"Bradley," you gasped, sloshing some of the wine onto your fingers as you tried not to drop the bottle. "I'm so sorry." He just shrugged and waved you off, but you ended up with your arms around his neck and the cold bottle pressed to his back as you whispered, "Is that why you didn't really have anyone writing to you other than me and my class?"

His big hand found your lower back through the sweatshirt. "Baby, the only other person who ever writes to me is my best friend, and even that is pretty sporadic."

You pulled away a little bit to meet his eyes as you asked, "What about Vanessa? The human, not the dog."

Bradley laughed and said, "The dog would make a better pen pal than the human. Probably be nicer to me, too."

You were completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He kissed your cheek before getting you settled at his side again, and you watched him scoop some noodles onto his fork. "Means she's not like you. And I'm going to try my best to prove that I'm not like your ex boyfriend who didn't like it when you talked about your job. Shouldn't be hard since I already think your kids are so cool, and I probably read at about a fourth grade level."

"Bradley," you balked as you laughed that he remembered what you told him about your ex, but he was already holding the food out to you.

"Try this and tell me what you think." You took the fork from his hand, tasted the dinner and moaned in appreciation. "It's pretty great, right?"

"Oh my goodness," you told him, digging the fork into the container for more. "It's even better than the place by my school."

You tried the curry next as the sun just about hit the horizon, and Bradley casually said, "We can do this all the time. Or I can surprise you with dinner after work."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me that," you told him before taking another sip of the wine.

"You don't like surprises," he said with a smile, and you realized for the second time tonight that he probably remembered everything you ever told him. The butterflies were back in full force as you and he chatted while you shared the meal. It wasn't like a first date at all. It was like some highly romantic reunion where he kissed you with a bit more frequency as the food containers ended up empty and the sky turned purple.

He was so warm as you snuggled up against his chest with your head on his shoulder. As the first few stars appeared in the clear sky, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, his fingers dipping inside the hem of your dress as the breeze made you cuddle even closer to him. "Was your last mission dangerous?" you asked, remembering how apprehensive he looked and sounded over the FaceTime call.

When he didn't respond right away, you thought perhaps he didn't hear you, but he squeezed your thigh and cleared his throat. "All of them are, Gorgeous."

Your heart clenched. You had him here with you after months of wishing and dreaming. You didn't want to seem pushy by asking, but you couldn't help yourself. "I never thought about what it would be like to... be with someone who deploys for work. Not until we started talking. But now I think about it a lot." His soft grunt next to your ear had you quickly asking, "Is that what it would be like? Always worrying if you're okay? Always wondering if you miss me as much as I miss you?"

He took your breath away as he kissed you, parting your lips with his and tasting your tongue. His lips were sweet from the wine, and his nose bumped yours as his big hand slid around to the back of your thigh. All you could do was hold onto him as he treated you to kiss after toe-curling kiss. You shamelessly moaned his name when he finally let you take a breath, but then he was right back on you. Your fingernails scraped softly along his faded scars before digging into his hair, and he broke the kiss and held you to him.

"You would never have to worry about the last bit. I would make sure of that. But yeah, Baby, the rest of it would kind of suck."

The only thing you could say was, "Bradley," as his eyes searched your face in the darkening evening light.

"I would have been miserable," he whispered. "If you never sent that first package, I would have had nothing to look forward to each day and nothing I was excited to come back to San Diego for." His voice was impossibly deep and alluring as he said, "I thought about that a lot. What if you never sent it? Or what if someone else got it instead of me? What if I didn't somehow manage to earn your attention? I don't like thinking about that. And I don't like the idea of you worrying about me even though, at the same time, it feels really fucking good knowing that you would."

You were melting. You were going to turn into a puddle for this man. This lonely man who had an ex who hadn't been nice to him and never emailed him enough. This man who cleared his calendar today to bring you flowers and visit your kids as soon as he got off of the aircraft carrier. You wanted to say so much as you pushed gently on his shoulders, and Bradley slowly leaned back until he was laying flat with you on top of him.

"Gorgeous," he crooned in the moonlight with the sound of the ocean behind you and his big hands on your thighs. 

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered, "You just got back today, and you gave all of your time to me."

His cheek was warm and rough with some stubble as your lips found his scars. You kissed them just like you told him you wanted to as he said, "It was just me being selfish. I wanted to be around you so badly. I'm already dying for more. Please go out with me again tomorrow?"

It took you all of a split second to agree. And maybe you were being selfish too, but you weren't prepared for the way your heart was racing in time with the butterflies. And how warm his big hands were as they inched up your legs while you tasted his tongue. And how much you knew you were going to want him to stay when it was time to say goodnight.

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

Your hands were all over his face and shoulders and in his hair, and Bradley was nothing short of delighted by this. Your lips drifted from his mouth down to his chin, and he had to try very hard to focus as they grazed his Adam's apple. He had your apartment keys in his hand, with which he was also squeezing your hip though his sweatshirt. It felt serendipitous that he was the one who got your letters, especially since he went from halfway in love with you to most of the way there after one day in your presence.

"Baby, you need to go inside," he warned, but something in his tone of voice just had you clinging tighter to him. "I need you to go inside."

You broke free from where your lips ended up on the side of his neck, and you whined. "I know, Bradley."

"God," he rasped, releasing you completely and taking a step back. "Say it one more time."

You unlocked your door, turned to look at him over your shoulder, and your kiss-swollen lips curled into one of those simply gorgeous smiles that earned you your nickname. "Bradley."

It sounded so fucking good. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered. "Lock the door behind you."

You did as you were told with one more little smile just for him, and then he was left standing there alone, trying to catch his breath while he got his phone out and worked on taking date number two from daydream to reality.

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

Why is he like this? They are going to get even more handsy on their second date, and I can't handle it. And he can't even go more than a day without seeing her? He needs to be locked away. Thanks for reading! And thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[sunflowerlando]

Homecoming

Pairing: Hangman x female reader (first person (no use of Y/N)) Synopsis: Hangman arrives home early from a deployment to surprise you Word Count: 1.3k+ Warnings: smut (seriously this is 18+), mentions of masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), protected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all), multiple orgasms, Hangman is his own smut warning

This is a rewrite of an old story (combined with some other parts of other writings I've done as the original was never finished). I took a poll on who people wanted a homecoming romp with, and Jake was the winner. Sorry this has taken so long to get out! I did a brief proofread after finishing, so apologies for any mistakes or if this just sucks 🙃

18+ content below, do not interact if you’re a minor.

I woke up around 6AM thinking I heard something, but as I lay listening there was no noise out of the ordinary. I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable again, rolling onto my side and stretching my leg out. My leg rubbed against something hard, and my eyes shot open immediately. I should have been alone in my bed, but there was a shirtless, green eyed, naval aviator lying next to me.

"Hi babe." Jake said quietly, and I threw my arms around him.

"What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be home until tonight."

"I can leave and come back then if you'd like."

"Only if you want to die a slow and painful death." I said grumpily and he laughed, kissing me gently.

"Are you sure you didn't know I was coming home early?" He asked.

"How could I have?"

"Well, you've got a sexy nightie on," he started before lifting the sheet to look at me.

"I've been wearing it for 2 nights now," I laughed "but I will admit you have good timing."

"Why's that?" He asked and I slid the hem of my nightgown up, revealing my lacy black underwear.

"Well hellllooo." He replied, wiggling his eyebrows at me before pulling me back against him for a deeper kiss.

"Fuck, I missed you so much." I said as my leg wrapped over his hip, and I ran my hands up his abs.

"Same. I thought about you every night."

"Did you ever touch yourself while you thought about me?" I asked a little shyly.

"Almost every day." He replied and I groaned slightly.

"Shit." I said under my breath as my heartbeat picked up.

"Did you ever think about me in bed and get hot and have to take care of it cause you were so turned on you couldn't stand it?" He asked, running his hands up and down my sides.

"You always make me hot, Jake." I told him and I could feel his cock twitch against me.

"Good. It better only be me." He said, before crashing his lips into mine and rolling us over so he had me pinned beneath him.

My hips rolled against up his and we both groaned into the kiss.

"Jake, please..." I mumbled against his lips.

"Please what?" He asked, smirking down at me.

"You know what." I replied.

"You need this so bad, don't you baby?"

"I have for a month now..."

"Then let's get cracking." He grinned, shifting to pull my nightgown off me.

His gaze trailed lazily over me before he kissed down my middle, gently caressing his hands over my breasts as he made his way further down my body. His kisses teased the inside of my thighs until his mouth was pressed over the top of my panties, torturing and pleasing me at the same time.

“Jake,” I sighed, and he moved to pull my panties down my legs. He then spread my legs gently, kissing the inside of both my thighs before lowering his head to push his tongue against me.

I groaned as his tongue flicked across my clit; one of my hands finding its way into his hair, the other gripping the sheet on the bed.

“You’re incredible” he said with a moan, in between sliding his tongue through my folds and sucking gently on my clit.

He slipped a finger inside of me, curling it to press against my g spot.

“You’re almost ready to cum aren’t you baby? I can feel how wet you’re getting and you're clenching so tight on my finger.” he said as he added another finger, and I felt the coil in my stomach tighten. Jake was an expert at pretty much everything he took interest in, and he was very interested in my body and making me feel good.

"Please," I begged before breaking into another loud moan as he upped his pace.

“Cum for me, baby." he said, and I broke. One of my hands came off the pillow and to the back of his head, holding him to me as I started to come undone. My legs were shaking as he sucked on my clit and fingered me through my orgasm.

"Fuck! Jakeeeeeee," I moaned, "fuckkkkkkk."

"Good girl." He said with a smile.

As I came back down from my orgasm, he slipped his boxers off and reached for a condom in the bedside table. I took the packet from his hands, ripping it open and caressing a hand down his length before sliding the condom on.

"Ready?" He asked, rubbing the head of himself against my clit.

"Please" I whined, and he smirked before obliging.

As he slid into me fully my eyes rolled back in my head, and I cried out at the feelings rushing through me.

He started moving slowly, both of us groaning at the sensation.

"Fuck, Darlin, you're so tight."

"Oh god; go harder." I begged and he pushed in and out of me quicker.

"You always feel so good after I've been away. So tight and just like you've been waiting for me to stretch you out again." Jake said, sliding a hand down between us to play with my clit.

"Mmmm... Jake I needed this so bad."

"I know baby. Me too."

"Jake..." I gasped as he shifted his position and pushed up against my front wall, hitting me effectively and sending stars into my vision as he thrust hard repeatedly and rolled my clit between two long fingers.

“Do you think you can give me another one?” he asked.

“If you put in the work, yes.” I grinned and he smirked down at me.

“You’re asking for trouble now.” His head lowered to suck at my left nipple as his other hand came up to pay attention to the right. His hips were still snapping against mine rapidly.

"Fuck. Jake... baby..." I gasped, trying to get some air into my lungs as he assaulted me with pleasure. My legs shook from the effort of holding back but the fire was spreading rapidly across my body, and I knew it was a matter of seconds now. I quivered underneath him, clawing across and down his back as he pounded into me, and my second release shot through my body.

“Goddamn. I forgot how good it feels to be inside you when you let go like that. I almost blew at that babygirl.” He said roughly into my ear, and I laughed lightly.

“It’s your fault.”

“You’re welcome for that.” He kissed me gently as he continued to thrust softly into me.

“My turn.” I replied, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking him by surprise as I rolled us over and sat up in his lap.

“Fuck. You know I like it when you ride me baby.”

“I know. Lay back and enjoy it, Jake.”

I started to roll my hips slowly against his and watched his eyes slide closed at the feeling. I ran my hands over his abs and settled them on his chest for some leverage as I moved up and down over him.

“Shit.” He ground out, gripping my hips and thrusting up off the mattress to meet me. Our pace was becoming more frantic as he raced for the end.

“Just like that, Lieutenant.” I groaned, scratching my nails along his chest.

His thrusts grew sloppier each second, and he groaned as he came. He'd turned into a shaking, swearing mess and I loved knowing I was the one who made him that way. He pressed a kiss to my lips before rolling us, so we were laying on our sides as we tried to settle our breathing and heartrates.

“I’m gonna have to make sure I keep a shirt on around the squad.” He laughed, looking down at the scratch marks I left on his chest.

“You probably have some on your back, too.” I chuckled.

“What can I say, my girl’s an animal.” He grinned.

“Welcome home, Aviator.” I smiled as he leaned over to press a kiss to my lips.

[trickphotography2]

Overtime

It was just supposed to be a football game. But then Hangman took Syla up on her invitation to watch the Blue Angels perform at the Miramar air show. A month after meeting and facing the last home show of her career, the history making Naval Aviator invited Hangman to visit her in Pensacola. She didn't actually expect him to accept. Payback definitely wasn't happy.

A continuation of First and Goal. This got away from me at 5.1K words. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Cross-posted on Ao3.

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

The humidity hit Jake in the face as he exited the Pensacola airport. His eyes darted up and then to the line of cars. “I’m under the Delta sign.”

“Okay, I’m pulling out of the cellphone lot,” Syla said. He heard her humming and felt his lip twitch. Over the month they’d been talking, he’d heard it many, many times, usually when she was focused on something. Once, when they’d done a video call while she was in Oregon, he’d asked her if she hummed while flying and was promptly flipped off. “I...think I see you.” The call disconnected as a blue convertible Mini Cooper stopped in front of him. Payback scowled, elbowing him out of the way as Syla got out and circled the car. 

“Reuben!” she squealed. Jake rolled his eyes, grabbing the other man’s bag as he hugged Syla, lifting her off her feet. Payback hadn’t been thrilled to find out he wasn’t the only one who had requested leave to head down to Florida for the Blue Angels homecoming show. Hell, Syla had been surprised when Jake had quickly accepted her half-joking invitation.

Jake had gone to the show in Miramar. It was his first time seeing them since their flyover at his Academy graduation, which he’d only half paid attention to back then. The Blue Angels were good PR for the Navy but had never caught his attention - pilots stuck repeating the same maneuvers every time? Sounded almost as bad as being assigned to desk duty. He'd take dog fighting every time if given the choice between it and the flying equivalent of synchronized swimming. But, after going through flight school and some experience with formation flying, he had a new respect for the Angels. 

The way Syla filled out her tight blue flight suit definitely didn’t hurt matters. Jake had managed to get close enough to watch the team march in a line to their jets and climb in, trading out their caps for helmets before taxiing and taking off in formation. For an hour, he watched them execute loops, inversions, pitches, and breaks. After the show, he’d joined the queue for her autograph and grinned at her surprised look. As she signed the team picture, he asked her about not wearing a g-suit that helped keep blood from pooling in the lower extremities and forced it toward the brain. From his estimation, they were pulling at least 7Gs at points.

“Can’t,” Syla had shrugged. “We have our right arm on our thigh for stability and to help with the 40-pound spring tensioned on the stick. Air bladders would inflate at the worst time and ruin the maneuver. ‘Sides, since we fly it constantly, we know when to tense to avoid G-LOC.” Sliding her aviators down her nose, the Blue Angel smirked and slid the picture across the table to him. “Good to see you again, Hangman.” 

Her phone number was under her loopy signature. 

“Hey,” Jake said when she turned her attention to him, eyebrow raised over her sunglasses. Crossing her arms over her chest, forcing her breasts higher into the tank top she wore, Syla cocked her hip. 

“I have so many questions. First - what the hell is with the pornstache?” Grinning, Jake ran a hand over his mustache. 

“Don’t like it?”

“You look like the other guy in your squad… um…” she snapped her fingers, glancing at Payback.

“Rooster.”

“Rooster! That’s right. He can pull off a mustache.”

“I make a mustache look good,” he chuckled, dropping the bags into the open trunk. Shaking her head, she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“Jury’s out. Also, people are gonna think you’re a Gator or Canes fan in that orange.”

“Hook ‘em, baby.” Over her head, Jake caught Payback’s eye roll.

“Alright,” Syla said, stepping out of his loose embrace and slamming the trunk closed. “Get in so we can go grab dinner. I’m starving.” 

“Please tell me we’re getting some seafood,” Payback moaned, beelining for the front seat. Jake rolled his eyes, following Syla around the car and pulling open the door for her before ducking into the back seat. His knees pressed into her seat, and he shifted to try and get more comfortable. 

The two aviators chatted while Syla pulled out of the airport and drove through Pensacola. It had been years since Jake had been back. Like many Naval aviators, his career had begun at a local flight school while stationed at NAS Whiting Field, just across the bridge and a couple of miles down I-10 in Milton. While he’d enjoyed his time at Annapolis during the Academy, it had been fun to cut loose and spend weekends on the white sand beaches, flirting with tourists and drinking at dive bars. But after he’d moved on to Intermediate Flight Training, he’d never looked back. North Florida had little appeal for him. If he had to be stationed in the state, he would go for the Keys.

“You good back there, Hangman?” Syla asked, pulling him from his musing. She’d twisted in her seat, strands of hair that had escaped her regulation bun framing her face.

“All good, just looking at how much it’s changed.” She smiled, turning back around when the light turned green.

After grabbing dinner by the beach at a local spot called The Oar House, the trio made their way to Syla’s place. It was a cute little white house with a red - “garnet,” she’d corrected - door. As another condition of his coming, Payback claimed the one guest bedroom while Jake was relegated to the couch. 

It helped to know that Payback only had the bed for one night and would join him in sleeping in the living room when Syla’s parents arrived the next day. 

So, while Payback went to bed early to call his kid, Jake and Syla hung out. At first, there had been some initial awkwardness, trying to navigate a friendship conducted mainly over the phone. It didn’t take long until Jake found himself itching to tuck her hair, free from the tight bun and damp from her shower, behind her ear. 

“Okay, I have to know,” she said, setting her glass on the coffee table before facing him. Propping her elbow against the back of the couch, she buried a hand in her hair and smirked. “What’s with the mustache? You weren’t deployed, so it’s not a deployment ‘stache. Or is this like a normal thing for you?”

“Definitely not a normal thing for me,” he chuckled, setting his beer on the coffee table and turning to mirror her. At her cocked eyebrow, he shrugged. “Payback.” 

“Are we talking Reuben or revenge for something?”

“A bit of both. He’s real protective of you and wasn’t happy to hear that we’ve been talking. Or that I was coming here.”

“Oh god, are you telling me you look like that because of me?” She let her head fall back at his shrug while taking a deep breath. The move pulled her sleep shirt tight against her chest, and he could see her pebbled nipples through the material. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“It’s fine.” And it was. It was worth it if this was the penalty for violating the bro code - as the rest of the Daggers had ruled when they found out about his contact with Syla. 

“Your pretty face shouldn’t be sacrificed for his petty male ego.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” Jake teased. Syla lowered her head and gave him an unimpressed look. With a huff, she ran her thumb over his mustache. 

“When you don’t have a fuzzy caterpillar on your face.” Amusement sparkled in his green eyes when Syla raised hers from his mouth to meet his. Her fingers rasped on his stubble as they glided across his jaw. Jake watched, biting back a groan when she played with the hair on the nape of his neck. Gentle pressure guided him closer as her tongue darted to wet her lips. A smirk curved his mouth as his gaze narrowed to hers. 

A throat cleared, and Syla jumped, her hand falling to her lap. Payback stood beside the television, arms crossed over his chest. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. 

“Absolutely,” Syla replied, even as pink dusted her cheeks. Payback’s eyes darted to Jake, who shrugged. “Oh no - this is not… If you have a problem with me talking to Jake, you’ll talk to me about it, Reuben.” 

“Okay. I don’t like it. You don’t know Hangman.” 

“Cool. Good to know. That’s part of why we’re talking - to get to know one another.” He groaned her name, running a hand down his face. 

“He’s got a reputation in Miramar.” Jake flushed with embarrassment. Sure, he enjoyed a one-night stand, but he hadn’t had one in a while. Definitely not since he’d started talking to the pilot beside him.

“So you’re telling me he knows what he’s doing and can probably find the clit. That’s great to know.” Both men sputtered, and Syla laughed. “In case you haven’t noticed, Payback, I’m not the 22-year-old girl you met. And as much as I appreciate you looking out for me, I’m a pretty good judge of character. So if I want to talk to Jake, kiss him, and maybe have sex, that’s our decision.” Patting Jake’s shoulder, she stood and gave Payback a sweet smile. “And with that, gentlemen, I’m going to go to bed since I have work in the morning. You know, where I’m a history-making Naval aviator whose judgment is tested and proven every day that I’m in the air flying inches away from other aviators, where one small deviation could mean death for either of us. Night boys.”

The two men watched Syla walk to the hallway, pausing to pat Payback’s chest and closing her bedroom door. 

Jake fell a little bit in love.

“Morning,” Jake said, his voice rough with sleep. Syla smiled and waved, continuing towards the kitchen where the coffee pot gurgled. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he joined her, taking the mug she slid across the counter and leaning against the stove, scratching his bare chest. 

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“Not the worst place I’ve bunked.”

“It’s a step above the carrier.” He smiled over the rim of his mug. He’d never dated a woman in the military and never would have even thought about pursuing another aviator. Sure, he enjoyed flirting with Phoenix to get a rise out of her, but their careers overlapped too much for him to ever think about pursuing anything. Plus, Rooster would kill him if he ever worked up the nerve to admit his feelings about his “best friend.”

But there was something comforting about talking with Syla. Over the last month, he’d enjoyed not having to explain things in his daily life. No explanation was needed when he rescheduled calls because he was doing late maneuvers. Honestly, she was the one doing the rescheduling more often than not. She was also the one who fell asleep when they were on the phone. He’d never admit it, but Jake usually stayed on the line for a few more minutes, listening to her soft breathing and half-heartedly hoping she’d wake before hanging up. 

“What’s your day look like?” he asked. Syla frowned and stepped past him to look at the calendar hanging on the refrigerator. 

“We’re briefing the show this morning and then going to a middle school. Not sure if we’re doing the interview there or if the camera crew is just getting footage. Then final dress rehearsal over the Gulf.” There was something sad in her eyes when she turned to meet his gaze. 

“What?”

“I just…” To his surprise, tears gathered in her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling and swallowed. “Sorry, just kinda hitting me that this is it.” Setting his mug down, he opened his arms. Syla rested her head on his shoulder, palms flat on his chest. Jake's hand ran up the back of her flight suit, tugging her closer as he brushed his lips against her temple. When she lifted her head, he kissed her cheek. But when he tried to do it again, she turned to meet him.

Their first kiss was a sweet one. Syla’s hands drifted up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck and tug him down as she surged onto her toes. He steadied her with hands on her hips, gripping the blue fabric tightly as she licked into his mouth. A groan escaped him as she smiled. The mustache prickled against her skin. 

“It’s too early for this.” 

“Morning, Reuben,” Syla sighed, dropping back onto her heels and resting her forehead against Jake’s chin. Slowly, she pulled away and looked at her friend. “Sleep well?”

“Other than a nightmare, yeah.” Chuckling, she stepped out of Jake’s arms and grabbed her travel coffee mug. 

“Duke is gonna pick me up so you can have my car for the day. I’ll be home around 5:30 or 6:00. My parent should be here around that time, too, so we’ll go out for dinner. I have to have an early night for the show tomorrow, but we can take two cars so you can have fun downtown.” The flight leader was happy to help her with a ride, seeing as he lived down the street. 

“An early night sounds good to me,” Jake nodded. 

“Great. Duke’s pulling up, so I’m headed out.” With a quick peck to both men’s cheeks, she left.

“You’re an ass,” Payback grumbled while opening the cabinets for a mug. Ignoring him, Jake returned to the couch and grabbed his cell phone, quickly pulling up their text thread.

Can confirm I know where the clit is

A few minutes later came her reply.

Seeing is believing

Syla woke early and pulled on her running gear. It was hard to sneak out of the house with the two aviators crashing in the living room, but she managed it. After slipping her earbuds in, she started her pre-show tradition of a five-mile run while mentally practicing the flight maneuvers. Hands clenched in front of her, she imagined Duke’s voice and positioned the stick and throttle. Deployed the smoke that allowed the crowd to follow them as they climbed. She would have the privilege of a sneak attack on the beach, buzzing the crowd who watched her wingmen fly ahead. 

Even after three seasons, every show made her nervous. And performing in front of the hometown crowd, while amazing, brought its own level of pressure. North Florida was the home to a huge military population. These people saw them the most - they practiced over the Naval Aviation Museum twice weekly and signed autographs. Hell, there was a sign as you got into town that said ‘Home of the Blue Angels.’ Pensacola had the Blue Angels, Corry Station, and Whiting Field, where many aviation careers started. The Air Force had three bases just an hour up the road - Hurlburt Field, Duke Field, and Eglin. Eglin had its own place in military aviation history, as it was where the pilots of the Doolittle Raid - the US’s retaliation on Japan following Pearl Harbor, where modified bombers had launched from the USS Hornet with no fighters as backup - had trained. The Air Force had their own fighter and test wings stationed there, and the Army was training special forces.

Further out were the two bases in Panama City - the Naval Support Activity Panama City and Tyndall Air Force Base, which housed their own fighter wing. That wasn’t even considering all of the veterans in the area. Syla had briefly dated someone who worked for the Veteran’s Administration, who had told her that the Gulf Coast was one of the fastest-growing areas for vets. 

So yeah, hometown shows made her nervous. And her dumb ass had invited a certain Lieutenant, who made her even more nervous. Who she outranked. As a Lieutenant Commander, she was responsible for ensuring they didn’t break any fraternization rules. And even though Jake wouldn’t be under her command - the Daggers were stationed at Miramar under TOPGUN but were not instructors - they might still get some looks.

Which was presuming that Jake even wanted something other than a fling. Panting, Syla stopped running and bent, wiping away the sweat on her brow. Even this early, the humidity was killer. “Fucking focus,” she ordered herself. 

There was nothing like an airshow. From the moment Syla stepped onto the tarmac, the energy was electric. For her last home show, they’d picked the theme of Celebrating Women in Aviation, focusing on the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPS) that began in WWII when the US needed pilots. Women could join the military to ferry, test, and deliver planes for repair. 

From the civilian aerobatic pilots to the Air Force’s Viper and F-35 demo teams and the explosive Tora Tora Tora reenactment, there was something for everyone. She joined her parents, Reuben, and Jake after the Angels’ morning briefing. While her parents and Reuben stayed in the tent, she and Jake did a quick walk around, pausing so she could sign autographs and take pictures. She was glad her sunglasses were on when a little girl traced over her embroidered wings and said she wanted to be a pilot, too. Jake’s fingers brushed hers as they walked, and she fought a smile. 

And then it was show time. Syla forced herself to focus on the moment. Doing anything else would endanger the team and her aircraft. So, she focused on saluting her flight crew and doing her checks. She wasn’t part of the diamond take-off formation but would be doing a high G vertical climb into an inversion. And then she thought about Duke’s final order - “Have fun.” 

So she did. She allowed herself to smile as she fought against gravity, admired the beautiful ocean she flew over, and laughed at the startled crowd as she executed the sneak pass. 

And yes, she did hum while doing it. 

Sunday was harder. Syla woke up early for her run and was surprised to find Jake awake in the kitchen, shirtless and wearing running shorts and sneakers. He joined her, her extra reflective belt wrapped around his bicep. It was still dark, their way lit by streetlights and the occasional passing car. Jake glanced over as she ran through the show, hands at her stomach moving the imaginary stick and throttle. 

Everything for her last show needed to be perfect. 

“You’ve got this,” he said when they turned back into her cul de sac. Feeling like a teenager sneaking around, she tugged him around the side of the house and pressed him against the siding. His hands wrapped around her hips, holding her tightly as her hands slid up his sweat-slicked skin to wrap around the back of his neck. It was still dark out, the sun not due to rise for another hour. If her neighbors looked out the glass door in their living room or someone drove past, they would easily be spotted. But that didn’t stop her from pressing against him, feeling his heat through her sports bra and running shorts. 

Jake pressed teasing kisses to her forehead, nose, and cheek before Syla gripped his hair and kissed him hard. His hand slid to her ass, squeezing and tugging her closer. She could feel his cock through his jogging shorts and dug her nails into his skin to keep from touching him. Nothing in the world would make her jeopardize her career with a public indecency charge. 

When his attention shifted to her neck, licking the salt from her skin, Syla forced herself to push against his shoulders and step back. His grip tightened, not letting her go too far. “Everything okay?” he asked. In the semi-darkness, she could barely make out his confused expression. 

“I need to know,” she said, biting her kiss-swollen lower lip. “I know we’ve only known each other for a month, but am I pissing off one of my best friends for a fling?”

“A fling?” 

“I outrank you, Jake. If there’s blowback, it’s gonna come back on me. Not only because of rank but because I’m a woman. I will always have Blue Angels in my bio, so I will always be held to the highest standard. So I have to know - is this just having fun? Or is this something we want to pursue? Because I’m fine either - ”

Jake’s lips silenced her, his tongue insistently licking into her mouth as he turned them to pin her against the siding with his hips. With his hands braced by her head, he pulled away, smirking when she chased his kiss. One knuckle traced from her temple and swept across her jaw before tilting her head up as he tutted her name. “You think I’d risk pissing off my entire squad for a fling? If I wanted that, I would have just waited for you to get to Miramar instead of coming out here, annoying Payback, and meeting your parents. This is my first vacation in years, and I wanted to spend time alone with you. If you want this to be a fling - ”

“I don’t.” 

“Good. Cause I don’t either.” They stood there, smiling at one another for a long moment until they heard a dog bark. Shoving him away, Syla turned and waved at her neighbor as he stepped out of the house across the street, dressed for his own morning run. Taking Jake’s hand, she tugged him back towards the front door, enjoying how he pressed himself against her back as she unlocked it. “Just wait until we’re alone, and I’ll show you just how well I can find your clit,” he growled in her ear as she gripped the doorknob.

“Just out of curiosity,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Did you tell Reuben that you were staying for a week? Or does he think you’re flying out tonight, too?”

“Now, where would the fun be in telling him?” Jake asked. Syla laughed, turning in his embrace to pat his cheek. 

“It’s your funeral, Hangman.” His grin was blinding as he leaned down to kiss her.

“What a hell of a reason to go.”

Emotion nearly choked her as Syla drove down Blue Angel Parkway toward the base. She’d left her parents to drive the other aviators in, wanting some time alone that morning. The squad had invited her guests to watch the last briefing of the season so they wouldn’t be too far behind. Reuben or Jake would be able to get her parents on base. While the air show gates didn’t open until 8:00AM, a few cars were already waiting at the Visitor Control building’s parking lot. After flashing her ID to the gate guard, she made her way to the hanger to quickly inspect her plane. Their flight mechanics were among the best in the world, and Syla trusted them with her life, but you could never be too careful. Once assured that everything was fine, she made her way to the briefing room, pausing to talk to some of the other early birds and to grab a shitty cup of coffee from the break room. Rather than take her seat, she took the opportunity to read the plaques that decorated the walls, running her finger over her name engraved on the list of pilots. 

“Big day, Syla. You ready for it?” Duke asked, coming into the briefing room and standing beside her. She glanced up at him and rolled her lips together, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. 

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied hoarsely. 

“One more flight, and then you’re back in the greens,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. 

“I look so much better in blue,” she smirked, glancing down at her flight suit. After three years, going back to a green suit that didn’t have her name and plane number embroidered on her chest, that had a different squadron patch, would be strange. This wasn’t the first time she’d left a squad, but it definitely was the hardest. Their team, from the flight and ground crew to the Marine pilots that flew Fat Albert, the C-130J that carried the crew show to show, spent so much time together. From January to November, they saw each other every day - on Thursdays, they flew out to the show location and returned to Pensacola on Mondays; Tuesdays and Wednesdays were practice days. For three years, Syla had celebrated birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, and graduations with these folks. She’d babysat for their kids and hung out at their houses. They had gotten her drunk to celebrate her promotion before dragging her to the beach and tossing her into the Gulf in her whites - she made sure that they also got drenched - and teased her relentlessly whenever she dated someone. 

The other squad members slowly filed in, and Syla was subjected to brotherly teasing. When her guests arrived, she introduced Jake and Reuben by their callsigns. The looks her squad sent her when Hangman shook their hands were priceless - they’d seen his name pop up on her phone more than a few times. The corner of Jake’s eye twitched at every shake, making her wonder if they were squeezing his hand harder than necessary. Payback looked happy at the cooler welcome the other pilot got. 

“Alright,” the flight leader said once everyone had taken their seat around the table, him at the head. Crew and her guests sat along the wall. “We’ll leave the sentimental stuff for the boat party later, but as you all know, this is Syla’s last flight with us. And while we’re excited to welcome Lieutenant Commander Reyes in a few months, she will have big shoes to fill. So we’ll be perfect today, not only for Syla but for our hometown crowd. I want the debrief to be short this afternoon so we can go celebrate another successful season and get some downtime. Now, conditions today allow for the high show…” Syla opened her folder and retrieved the aerial map of Pensacola as he read out the wind and view data. The tip of her pen traced the maneuvers they would go through, as he called them.

She could feel eyes on her as they pushed away from the table and did a chair flight, Duke’s comforting cadence helping her block out everything else. Her own eyes remained closed as they talked through the flight, visualizing and practicing the throttles and stick positions, where they would have pull on the stick, tensing to fight the Gs, her calls on the radio, turning to check the alignment of their synchronized ascent into the loop, deploying smoke - every second of the 45-minute show.  

And when she opened her eyes, they caught on a pair of green ones that stared at her from across the room. The corner of Jake’s mouth twitched as he gave a curt nod. Beside him, her parents beamed. Payback sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and grinned. 

Syla couldn’t help the tears that fell as she taxied back into position. Even over her engine, she could hear the crowd cheering as they announced her name and thanked her for her years of flying with the Blues. As the canopy rose, she swiped at her face and took a deep breath. 

It was over. 

After three years, she was now returning to the fleet. She would be assigned a new Super Hornet, grey instead of bright blue, with her name and callsign painted below the canopy. The next few months would be spent reviewing tactical and weapons updates, and she’d have a few weeks to refresh her air combat skills before taking on her first TOPGUN class. She was pretty sure that she'd spend some time with the meatball, the machine that helped baby aviators learn the dimensions of the ship's flight line; she felt rusty even with over 600 carrier landings under her belt. 

Thankfully, she was sure there was an active-duty pilot who would be more than happy to help her study.

“You good?” Syla looked up at her crew chief and nodded at the woman. Quickly, she handed over the helmet, realizing it would be one of the last times she wore it. Soon, she would be back in her garnet one with gold arrows - her nod to her alma mater. After smoothing down her hair, she put her cover back on and prepared to exit the cockpit. 

Three years. Over 900 days on the road. Hundreds of hours in the air. 

It was over.

A Week Later

Fanboy glanced at his phone, frowning at the text from Hangman. The Miami game was on a commercial break, so he quickly opened it and saw it was a video. 

He recognized the place immediately - Florida State’s football stadium. Doak Campbell. Fucking Hangman was at the Miami-FSU game. Hangman panned the camera around the stadium, and Fanboy realized he was standing on the field. In the endzone. The announcer’s voice was a bit muffled but became clearer as Hangman refocused the camera on Syla. 

“Callsign Syla made history as the first female aviator on the Blue Angels, carrying on the proud FSU tradition of excellence. Let’s give a loud welcome home to Syla!”

The crowd roared, chants of “USA” echoing as Syla held up her hands and waved before doing the tomahawk chop. In the background, he saw that she was being broadcast on the jumbotron. As it cut away, she held her hands up again. She brought her thumbs together to form the University of Miami ‘U’ symbol before dropping all but her middle fingers. The student section started a chant of ‘Fuck U’ as she laughed. 

“Fuck Miami!” Syla grinned. 

“Fuck Miami!” Hangman echoed, swinging the camera around to show himself flipping off the camera, that god-awful mustache still on his face. For once, he wasn’t wearing Texas gear but had swapped it out for a Seminoles cap and t-shirt. 

Oh, Fanboy thought. He was definitely gonna have to deal with way more bro code violations once he got back. Especially after he forgot to turn off the recording before kissing Syla. 

Fanboy debated forwarding it to the group chat but decided against it. Having a bit of blackmail was never a bad thing.

The group chat started popping off in the 4th quarter. 

What the fuck is this? Payback fired off, sharing a picture of Hangman with his arm around Syla and their back to the field. Her hand rested on his stomach. 

Damn, Rooster replied. Phoenix added a gif of Stephen Colbert eating popcorn.

Looks like fun, Bob added. 

Fuck the Noles, Fanboy typed out.

Is no one bothered by this??? Payback demanded. The chat went silent until Hangman’s name popped up.

Syla here. Two things - 1) Fuck Miami, and 2) I’m begging you to let the man shave the fucking mustache. Facial hair is not my thing.

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

Note: I didn't expect to write a follow up to First and Goal, but I also didn't expect the engagement with it. Thank you to everyone who read it. A major thank you to @mayhemmanaged for helping talk me through this fic and reading a rough draft of it. And @dreamlandcreations for saying she wanted a part 2.

The North Florida panhandle has a huge military population. I recently moved away from the Gulf Coast, after my dad was stationed at Eglin AFB. That is where I first got to see a jet engine up close and see how beautiful the afterburner could be. It's where I went to my first stateside air show. I completed an internship at the VA in Pensacola, and was able to see the Blue Angels fly every week. Like Jake, I didn't really appreciate the panhandle until I left. There's nothing like shifting from pine trees to an ocean view as you cross the I-10 bridge, going from Whiting Field to Pensacola.

Like Syla, I'm a diehard Seminole, graduating from there a total of 4 times. I actually stole her flight leader's callsign, Duke, from a guy I went to high school and college with, who flies for the Air Force.

So long story short, this fic was inspired by aviation and Lieutenant Commander Amanda 'Stalin' Lee, the first female Blue Angel. Thanks for reading ❤️

Tagging those who reblogged and commented on First and Goal:

kmc1989; gigisimsonmars; starset21; the-slytherin-library-12; ssa-sadboi; fanficfandomlove; shanimallina87; myfaveficrecs; roosterforme; thefandomimagines; dreamlandcreations; topherwrites; roosteraloha; tgmreader; love-in-light; starlightmoon2020; clockworkballerina; bibissparkles; top-hhun; just-in-case-iloveyou; scarlettwidow19; themusingofagothicsoul; milani-marie; rooseresintg; lets-turn-and-burn; bellaireland1981; shanimallina87; sydthekid1518; gspenc; mimi-8793; novagreen04; fulla02reads; alldaysdreamers; atarmychick007; onceupona-happilyeverafter-love; rosiahills22

[salubriwrites-blog]

My self indulgent fanfiction. You Chose Sitri

This is only the first half, I'm writing the 2nd half in a feverish haze. But I KNOW THAT THERE ARE SITRI ENJOYERS OUT THERE AND THIS IS FOR YOU BABY GIRLS UPDATED: Here is the full story, on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/59305870

ANOTHER UPDATE: My demons won and I wrote a part 2. It’s in the above AO3 link ^^^^^

“How long will you be gone?” 

His eyes, red like guilt, now smiled at you as Satan stepped back into your space. You thought you’d have gotten used to it by now, but it was like a string was tied to your naval, reeling you in as the devil placed his hand on the small of your back. An undeniable magnetism parted your lips as his breath poured down your face, close enough to kiss-

“Shorter than you think, longer than you’d like,” he laughed as he pulled away from you. Unsure if he was laughing at his own cleverness or the flush on your cheeks, you folded your arms to guard your heart. “I need to meet with the other Princes to form a union. We won’t be able to combat Heaven if we all fight as separate nations.”

“I understand, but what if,” you purse your lips, thinking of the best way to pose the question without blushing anymore. “What if I need more, you know.” Your body still felt tight from your first encounter with the devil. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, bending you in half as you gasped for air. Gasping for more pleasure than oxygen.

Face tightening with knowing, the devil laughed and pinched your chin endearingly. “The energy I transferred you is pretty potent, you shouldn’t need more for quite a while.” Satan’s eyes traveled from your face to the attendants who stood behind you. “As long as you don’t push yourself, you will be able to hold out until I get back.” Looking past you as he spoke, and in turn you could feel another pair of eyes on you. Softer ones that didn’t feel quite right on your shoulders, not yet anyway. 

“I-I could just, you know, get it from another devil, if necessary?” You asked, and his eyes snapped like a scope on you. Asking why you would want it from another devil.

“We will attend to Solomon’s every need with the utmost importance in your absence,” Sitri said, you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to see him bowing deeply. Those crimson eyes glared at the sharply dressed attendant, you were still standing close enough to see his jaw clench at Sitri’s words. Did he not trust Sitri with your care? 

Instead of contesting the devil’s promise, a great red wind swept over the cobbled streets and the King of Gehenna was out of sight. 

A part of you went with him when he vanished, you had no emotional attachment to His Majesty, but something felt amiss when his laughing eyes weren’t following you. Just as you were about to hold yourself as compensation, a foreign pair of fingers caressed your elbow to get your attention. 

“Shall we, Solomon?”

“That’s not my name,” you replied uselessly, knowing that he was going to reply with something quietly snarky like, “my apologies, Solomon”. To your surprise, he didn’t, just nodded in acknowledgement before ushering you from the ruins of the town square.

Together you returned to the palace that sat high at the valley’s edge, looking down on Gehenna as the city was already buzzing with reconstruction. Of all the places to find yourself relaxed, sitting in a layer of Hell, drinking tea on a balcony, and looking down on a nation of devils was not it. You were left to the quiet, replaying the mere hours that you’d been down there over and over. Has it really not even been a day? So much happened already, and you felt so at ease amongst the attendants who waited on you hand and foot, it was like you had always been here. It was less of a welcoming and more of a homecoming. 

All the while, waiting in the wings, Sitri patiently stood in preparation for your next breath. You knew that if you so much as whispered to yourself, he would be there, as if he could hear your thoughts even before they formed on your tongue. Once you wondered why he didn’t come to sit beside you, he had been so eager in Satan’s presence to always be walking on the other side of you. Now that the King was away, you had thought that Sitri would be at your elbow the whole day. Hells, you even hoped that he would badger you with stories of Hell, the history of Gehenna, the 72 devils. Any excuse to watch his eyes glimmer with life and his hands animate. Instead you settled for Ppyong’s attention, allowing him to massage your feet on the promise that he would not kiss or hump them.

“Are you content? May I get you anything?” The devil asked once, his voice a welcome interruption to your peace. It turned out, Ppyong had a firm grip that was good for working the balls of your feet. 

You pretended to think, though you knew exactly what you wanted. The answer was him, Sitri, to pull up a chair beside you and listen to how homesick you were. Maybe even to stroke your hair while he talked. What about? Anything, you would listen gladly. Instead you asked for a glass of wine, not having the confidence to ask him for his time. 

“Sit with me?” You asked when he returned though, rushing the words out before they could hide back in your belly. “I want your company.” 

Instead of yielding instantly to your request, Sitri hesitated while putting the empty glass on the table beside you. The tense silence as you watched him uncork the bottle and pour a sample for you made your stomach hurt. 

“I’m afraid I cannot, I have to see that your dinner preparations are underway.” He excused himself, hurrying off before you could find an excuse for him to stay. You drank the whole glass in one breath, and then hurriedly poured yourself another bottle. The wine was delicious, but it did not overpower the traces of vinegar and turpentine that sat at the back of your throat. Is this what rejection tasted like? 

It was worse that night. 

Of course it had to be Sitri who led you to your quarter that night. High ceilings with hand painted murals depicting galaxies, and stationed on a raised platform was a bed large enough to sleep all of Hell. Sheets made of velvet whispered seductive ideas as you dragged your fingers over them, feeling the draping tassels of the canopy that obscured it. 

“Is it to your liking?” Sitri asked from the doorway, filling it with his sharp figure instead of just coming in to follow you. You wondered if devils were like vampires and he could not enter unless invited. “All the amenities and pleasures you may desire have been provided.”

“It’s gorgeous,” you called back, feeling the satin that hung from the bed’s canopy like sweet dreams. “Big for just one person, though.” When you cast your gaze backward, Sitri wasn’t looking at you as if he anticipated your suggestion. Those pink eyes were scrutinizing his boots rather than watch you return to the doorway. “Sitri.”

“I’m glad that you like it, if that’s all I will retire for the evening, and bid you sweet dreams.” He said quickly, excusing himself before you could reach out to stop him. 

“Hold on, wait,” you called, but he walked with purpose out of sight. Closing the door behind you, you let out an exasperated sigh and stripped. You didn’t care if he heard your frustration, you wanted the devil to know that he had left you wanting. Maybe if you huffed and puffed enough he might come back to check on you.

Crawling between the sheets, you thought that you would be out in an instant. As you walked around the bedroom, sleep sounded exquisite. There would be time to go looking for all the pleasures that Sitri had alluded to later. Sleep had been calling your name since you were allowed to enjoy the peace that Satan’s absence bestowed on you. Now that the time had come though, sleep teased you. The sheets grazing over your nipples reminded you of a man’s tongue, and you caught the moan just as it was bubbling on your lips. 

You tossed and turned in the velvet embrace, your skin tantalized by the snagging of the fabric. You couldn’t sleep, because no matter how decadent and soft this bed was, it wasn’t really yours. No bed of yours was complete without company. Staring at the swirling stars and winking nebulas that watched over you, you thought about what you would paint on it instead. Satan, maybe, undressed and using one finger to hold up his erect member. Leapfrogging through all the devils you had met, you landed on Sitri last. Though perhaps not because he was the last on your list of devils you would touch.

Sitri, on his knees wearing only those gold and black boots, white leather squeezing his chest tight. Hair curling gently around his face, frizzy with sweat and slack jawed as he stared up at you. Soft Sitri, panting hot breath on your mound as his tongue lolled over your thighs. His pink eyes complimenting the flush on your belly as he watched you writhe at his technique.

A bolt of feeling struck your core and it was like a bubble had popped inside you. Your thighs coated with arousal as you squeezed them together, wondering if the devil could smell as well as he could hear. Wait- why were you thinking of him still?

The answer was simple, even though you were stubborn to realize it.

Satan was a perfect specimen, you fit perfectly in his arms and your legs landed nicely around his hips. Except he was too much, too intense. He had grabbed and thrown you around like a doll, pushing you against walls and bending you in half. Your pleasure wasn’t what he had been after in that comfortable place, it was your cries and your discomfort. 

An idea that boiled in your belly reached up and took control of your arms, forcing the blanket out of your way. The chamber floor was cold, but it only strengthened your resolve to do something about the heaviness in your belly and the tingle between your legs. You were horny, plain and simple. You spent some time navigating your room, looking in the furniture and admiring all the toys and clothes. Plotting out your plan. 

When Sitri had explained that this was your room, he hadn’t told you that this was Solomon’s room, but as you investigated the walk in closets full of sex toys and clothes, your epiphany took shape. Solomon had one whole walk-in room devoted to sex. Toys, harnesses and leashes, lubricants, clamps and leads of rope adorned all the space. Dragging your fingers over the leather, you wondered how many devils he had had in his bed. If all of the restraints were designated to different ones. Whether he had favorites. You certainly would, you thought as you admired a white harness with matching butt plugs adorned with exotic fevers and furs. 

You played dress up in the old wraps, the black and gold accentuated your lilac hair. Twirling like a princess in front of the mirror, you watched the way the togas trailed behind as you strutted. Beads to thread your locks into lay out perfect and uniform on the dresser, and you fed a few of them into the braids you weaved. It was pretty, you tilted your chin back and forth and admired how the gold and turquoise caught each other. It had been fun, you felt irresistible doing a slow turn in the mirror. Would it be enough though?

Outside the full moon shone so bright it didn’t feel like midnight at all. The breezeway of the palace was well lit, your naked feet slapping the marble and echoing off the walls. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but you followed the smell of dry tea leaves, the aroma curling its fingers for you to follow. The closer you got to his room, the bigger the rock in your stomach formed. Your thighs were soaked with excitement and your stomach was heavy with nerves. 

Standing in front of the tall, white wood you put your fingers through your hair, feeling that the accessories were secure. What exactly were you hoping for, you asked yourself as you smoothed down the folds of your ensemble. That, by presenting yourself as an echo of your great great great grandfather whom he had once greatly adored, he would fall to his knees before your irresistible silhouette? 

Yes. You thought with finality as you reached out to knock on his door. That’s exactly what you were hoping for. 

Before your knuckle could rap against the wood, it was opening for you. Had he been standing just on the other side of it? He had to have heard you coming, your heart was pounding in your throat, a siren song that he could not restrain against. He looked exhausted on the other side of the door, eyes cast down and looking weary, unable to recompose himself as he addressed you.

“What can I,” he began to say, but his voice trailed off as his eyes began at your feet, taking in the dark nail polish you had painted on your toes. It was an onyx black that twinkled against the moonlight. “What have you done?” Sitri choked on his own voice as he took in the rest of the outfit, the black and golds that embraced your hips, the twinkle of gold and precious gems in your hair like constellations. His expression was illegible, though his eyes had widened and you could hear his heartbeat for once. 

“Do you like it?” You asked, looping your hands behind your back. In all the poses you practiced in front of the mirror, you hadn’t rehearsed what to do with them if he didn’t immediately grab them to drag you into his room. Which he wasn’t doing, so this was the next best thing. Your heart raced the longer he just stared at you wordlessly, looking at you like you were out of your mind. “I thought that it might make you more… comfortable with me.” 

“You did this for me?” Sitri demanded, though his voice didn’t harshen as he leaned out of his bedroom. “You shouldn’t let anyone see you like this, let me walk you back to your room-”

“No,” you insisted, standing square in the threshold. At your new proximity, those big eyes of his stared down at your chest, which the toga did a wonderful job of accentuating your cleavage. “I won’t go back… unless you join me,” you added, remembering how you were trying to bully around a devil. A devil who lent his power to another, probably because he was an overwhelming font. That only made you wetter, and wetter still when he drew in a deep breath. Could he smell how much you wanted him?

“I should not be seen with you.”

“Why not?”

“Should Satan find out,” he stopped himself, biting his lip as if he had something he shouldn’t. “If His Majesty were to know about this, there would be consequences.” 

“Why would there be consequences? You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?” You asked, stomach churning at the break in his composure. 

“No, no, no,” he insisted, reaching out for you, but stopping himself short of your hips. “I would revere you, give you whatever you asked, hear your heart’s desires and do everything in my power to fulfill them.”

That sounded just fine to you, still he stepped back when you tried to advance. “Then what’s the problem? What consequences?”

“His Majesty has chosen you.” Sitri said, nearly shouting it like an incantation. He had squeezed his eyes shut when he spoke, as if afraid of your reaction. 

“Chosen me?” You echoed, thinking back to all of Satan’s behavior that day. His extreme possessiveness, literally beating away other devils when they tried to touch you, was all behavior you would expect from a romantic visual novel game. “But I don’t choose him.” 

Sitri didn’t seem to hear you though, too caught up in his own worry. “Satan has deemed that he is the only one to adore you. If he saw this, or heard about it, he would forbid me from ever seeing you again.” 

“Sitri,” you said softer, trying to be patient as the devil seemed to be scaring himself with something that would never happen. So caught up in his own fear that he didn’t notice you stepping closer, your toes pressing on top of his boots. 

“I could love you so much better than he, but he is the King of Gehenna and will have his way. He could make it that I never see you, or hear you, again. If I couldn’t… If I wasn’t… I might-”

“Sitri,” reaching to touch him, the devil’s eyes snapped to attention, pupils dilating at how close you were. “I don’t care, because I don’t choose Satan. I choose you.” What had begun as a hormone-fueled rash decision that you may regret later, was evaporating into your heart pounding so loud in your ears it might have deafened Sitri. You were starting to understand the significance of choosing Sitri. 

Before he could question you further, you leaned in to silence him. How soft his lips were, they trembled and a sound that started as a moan strangled itself into a cry in his throat. Unlocking your fingers from behind you, you pushed your way inside, and closed the bedroom door with your foot.

[imawkwardlysoc]

you wonder how he got his call sign

Song: Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

Paring: mickey garcia x reader (afab)

Warning(s): None, just pure fluff!

Word Count: 2,767

Summary: A little story on how Mickey got his call sign.

Call signs. No matter if you’re in the Marines, Navy, or Air Force, you get a call sign. Some badass ones like Iceman and Maverick may have a cool background if you assume, but in reality, most of them come from pretty embarrassing things. Like Payback for example and the amount of bets that he lost. Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia, on the other hand, has another story.

The first of artists covering other artists' songs first came out in the 1950s. Soon over half a decade later, cover videos started to come out more on YouTube. Singers like Sam Tsui, Christina Grimmie, Conor Maynard, and many others have risen to fame with their covers coming out in the late 2000s/early 2010s. Some have also got the chance to be signed to record labels and winning awards like Y/N L/N. To Mickey though, he doesn’t think of Grammy Award winner Y/N L/N, he thinks of Y/N L/N who he used to help record her cover videos in her bedroom or the backyard of her house.

Every Friday since meeting each other freshman year of high school, Y/N would drag Mickey out of their last period class and out of their high school in Miami to her house to start recording cover videos. As she uploaded her videos onto YouTube, her views went from a few hundred to a few thousand until one day.

“Mickey! Mickey!” The junior yelled her best friend’s name as she ran down the school hallway. “Where are you?”

“Yo! What’s going on?” Mickey closed his locker after grabbing everything he needed.

He turned to face the singer whose face was all red from the running as the screen of her BlackBerry Bold was in his line of sight. Squinting his eyes a little, he looked at the screen which showed one of the recent covers she uploaded.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed. “One hundred thousand?”

“I know right!” The two of them started to jump together in celebration, ignoring the looks they’re getting.

“This is crazy!” Y/N said, still not believing that her cover of Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood reached that many views.

“You know what this means?” Mickey’s eyebrow was raised. “The chance of you getting signed to a record label.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Y/N let out a laugh. “Never in a million years.”

“Hey,” he gently squeezed her shoulder. “It’s going to happen. I have a good feeling.”

Y/N shook her head at her friend’s nonsense and dragged him to their first class of the day.

Years passed and their friendship grew even more. They shared homecoming and prom dances together. They had many all nighters studying for the AP tests they signed up for and working on college applications. The both of them dated people but their relationships only lasted for three to four months max because they both were missing something. Mickey still continued to help Y/N post her covers on her channel which grew after that one day.

Towards the end of the summer break after they graduated, the duo had to head their separate ways for college. They still kept in contact though by the emails they sent each other and visiting each other in Miami during breaks. With every visit, their feelings grew more without them realizing it.

Mickey had achieved his dream of getting into the Naval Academy and became a weapons system officer, getting the callsign Fanboy from his classmates seeing him geek out and watch Y/N’s covers. Y/N continued uploading her covers onto YouTube while studying literature at the University of Miami. It wasn’t until her senior year of college she got the best news of her life.

The sound of her sandals slapping the concrete sidewalk boomed as she ran down the concrete path which led to the park her and Mickey would sometimes hang out at. With his back facing against her, she leaped on his back which took Mickey out a little.

“Hey, you missed me that much?” Mickey laughed.

“Yeah, but I have some news,” Y/N answered.

“Which is?” He asked.

She didn’t verbally answer but she handed him the small stack of papers. Going through the papers, she saw the look on Mickey’s face as his face lit up with each page.

“No, you’re joking.” Mickey pulled her into a hug.

“I’m not,” she confirmed. “You’re looking at the newest artist signed with Atlantic Records.”

“You’re not going to forget me when you become famous right?” Mickey joked.

“Are you kidding? I won’t forget my best friend.” Y/N lightly punched his shoulder.

“Yeah, best friend,” Mickey sighed.

“What? Are you okay?” A quizzed look formed on her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mickey brushed off his emotions.

“Hey Mick, tell me what’s up.” Y/N held his hand which sent sparks through the both of them.

“You’re going to hate me when I do this,” he said.

“Do wh-” Y/N was interrupted when Mickey’s lips touched hers.

Butterflies and fireworks exploded inside them as their lips moved in sync. Detaching their lips from each other to catch their breath, they looked each other in the eyes questioning what just happened.

“Did that just?”

“Yeah.”

Kissing each other again, they confirmed that their feelings for each other were true. After the second kiss, Mickey decided to take Y/N for an early dinner to celebrate her getting a record deal and have a pre-first date date.

More years have passed with the both of them graduating with their degrees. Their relationship grew more as they became official. Mickey was out doing the five years required to serve after he graduated after the academy. Y/N on the other hand was busy writing and recording her first album. Constant filming for her music videos and traveling to promote her album.

Despite them being hundreds or thousands of miles apart, they managed to keep their relationship alive. They had many video calls together and if she toured in an area where Mickey was at, he would watch her concerts with Reuben “Payback” Finch, who is the only person that knows her and Mickey are together other than close friends and family. When Y/N started to become more well known, she wanted to keep her personal life private. She did post pictures of her and Mickey together on her social media accounts but they didn’t show Mickey’s face.

On the eve of Mickey’s last deployment, she came back home with the living room of their shared house decorated with flowers and lit candles. In the space where their coffee table used to be, Mickey was on one knee holding a velvet box in his hand. With a short and sweet speech as tears ran down their faces, Y/N nodded her head saying yes to his proposal. A few months after Mickey came back from his deployment, the two had a small private ceremony with their close friends and family in a cabin up in the Santa Cruz mountains. Reuben as Mickey’s best man and Y/N’s college roommate as her maid of honor.

Luckily for Y/N, she could travel and stay anywhere with her job. With Mickey being moved from base to base because of his job, she would follow him while still making music while renting a house off base. From time to time she would have to travel and stay in New York for a little bit for meetings and to record her music. Thankfully when Mickey got called back to Top Gun, they resided permanently in a house that was only a fifteen minute drive away from base after the Dagger Squadron was made permanent in San Diego. Many dinners with her, Mickey, and Reuben were shared as they told stories of the other squadron members they met for the mission. Y/N continued to make music and released her next album which caused her to be away from Mickey to promote it and tour around Europe and North America.

After a day of training, the Dagger Squad decided to head to the Hard Deck for some drinks.

“Amelia has been depressed since the LA tickets for Y/N sold out,” Rooster said before taking a sip of his beer.

“Really?” Mickey raised his eyebrow.

“Yeah, Y/N is one of her favorite singers. Ever since those tickets sold out the first day, she’s been blasting her music in her room and headphones,” the aviator answered.

The WSO nodded his head and excused himself. Taking his phone out, he checked the time to see that Y/N wasn’t on stage yet. Calling her and waiting for a few rings, she answered her husband’s call.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” She asked. “How was work?”

“It was good, got our asses handed by Maverick but that’s normal,” he chuckled. “How are you?”

“I’m good, just two hours before we head onto stage,” she replied. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, but hey can I ask for a favor?” He asked.

“What is it?” She said.

“You know Rooster right?” Y/N hummed in confirmation. “Well, his little sister wants to see you in LA but the tickets sold out immediately. Is there any way you can get a ticket for her?”

“I’ll check, give me a minute,” she told him. “Stay on the line.”

Taking a sip of his drink, he waited for his wife while admiring the cooling winds of San Diego while the sun setted.

“Hey, you’re still there?” Y/N voice popped into his ear.

“Yeah, so what’s the verdict?” He replied, mentally crossing his fingers.

“Yeah, how many tickets do you need?” The singer asked. “Twelve plus your captain, his girlfriend, and daughter, that would be fifteen. Is that good?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, we have more than enough tickets. Just tell everyone and I’ll send you the info. Also, all of y’all need a break from training.”

“Wow, I’ll tell everyone. Thank you for doing this. I love you.”

“I love you too. You can thank me later when you get to LA.” Mickey could already imagine the smirk on his wife’s face.

Hanging up the phone with a grin on his face, Mickey headed back into the bar and stood next to Rooster.

“I managed to get a ticket for Amelia,” he told the pilot.

“Wait, how?” The pilot questioned.

“I know someone who’s one of the guitar techs on her tour. I managed to get all of us plus Maverick and Penny a ticket,” he told everyone.

“Wait, we’re seeing Y/N in LA?” Phoenix started to fangirl a little. “Don’t mess with me Fanboy.”

“I’m not, I’ll text you the information into the group chat,” he confirmed.

“We’re going to see Y/N baby!” Coyote cheered.

While everyone celebrated, Reuben sent his WSO a smirk knowing who gave them the tickets.

*Concert Day*

“Mick, are you sure we’re supposed to park here?” Maverick asked as he got out of Rooster’s Bronco.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Mickey answered his captain.

“Because we’re by where Y/N L/N’s tour bus is,” Rooster added.

“Trust me, we can be here,” Mickey reassured them while pulling out his phone.

Making the call, they waited for a few more minutes before Y/N’s manager came out of the Forum with VIP passes in hand. Mickey greeted the manager and they handed Mickey the passes. All of the members were shocked when they saw the passes they got, questioning how Mickey managed to get these. All of them thought they were getting tickets up in the nosebleeds, but they were mistaken.

“Mickey!” The singer jumped into her husband’s arms when she saw him.

“Hello my love,” the Navy man mumbled before kissing her.

Everyone except for Reuben was shocked at the sight they were seeing. They couldn’t believe that one of their WSO’s was kissing the singer they would soberly and drunkenly sing out the lyrics while doing karaoke.

“I missed you,” the singer wrapped her arms around Mickey’s neck.

“Me too, four weeks is too long.” Mickey moved a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face. “Everyone’s here already.”

Y/N moved away from Mickey and saw his pilot standing there with a grin on his face. “Ru-Ru, it’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you again too,” the pilot returned her hug.

Letting go of the hug, Y/N looked at the rest of her husband’s squadron who had shocked expressions on their faces. “Hi, you must be Mickey’s squadron and you must be Amelia, is that right?”

“Y-Yeah,” Amelia stuttered as her idol stood in front of her.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled at her and looked at Maverick who stood behind her. “You must be Captain Mitchell. Mickey and Reuben have been telling me great things about you.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you m’am. Thank you for inviting us,” Maverick said.

“Anything for Mickey's adopted family,” Y/N smiled. “Also, call me Y/N.”

“I will if you call me Pete or Maverick,” Pete smiled.

“That’s a deal,” Y/N chuckled and faced the squad again. “Mickey, wanna introduce me to your team members?”

Mickey nodded his head and introduced his wife to the rest of the Dagger Squad. After the introductions, everyone headed to the greenroom.

“So, you’re telling me that Reuben knew that Fanboy over here is dating Y/N?” Hangman asked. “The same Y/N who won a Grammy and many Billboard Music awards?”

“Not dating, we’re married,” Y/N corrected the Texan.

“What!” Everyone yelled/exclaimed.

“Married for almost five years.” Mickey and Y/N looked at each other in admiration.

“You knew that already didn’t you?” Halo asked Reuben.

“He should, he was my best man,” Mickey answered for his pilot. “Also, who do you think Don’t Blame Me is about?”

“And I thought Bob over here had secrets we don’t know about,” Omaha chuckled.

“Nah, she’s the only secret that I have.” Mickey tenderly pressed his lips onto his wife’s.

Soon after that, the topic of conversation changed, promising them the couple would host dinner to get to know Y/N more.

After spending an hour or so in the greenroom, Y/N had to start getting ready for the show. Giving his wife one last kiss, he met up with the squad following one of the assistants to the VIP booth Y/N set them in. The booth provided food, snacks, and drinks for them while giving them a view close to the stage.

The lights in the venue started to dim down as the crowd’s cheers started to rise. The band started playing the introduction and the cheers from the audience elevated as Y/N rose into the stage.

Throughout the concert, the energy was amazing. Everyone was screaming and jamming out to the lyrics. All of the Dagger Squad and Penny and Amelia were enjoying the time they were having and thanking Mickey for the tickets. Mickey was pretty sure he saw Hangman and Coyote doing the choreography to I Did Something Bad.

“Alright, before we do this next song, how is everyone doing?” Y/N asked the audience as they replied with cheers. “That’s good. Fun fact, the person that I wrote this next song about is in the crowd tonight with his friends. This song is dedicated to him. Love you darling.”

Y/N sent him a wink and he winked back at her. The band started to play Don’t Blame me and everyone was taken to church by the way she performed it. The singer got down on her knees, belting out the high note which caused Mickey to form a proud smile on his face.

After a few songs and the encore, the last show of the tour was finished. Mickey and the gang headed backstage to see Y/N in a pair of sweat shorts and one of Mickey’s old t-shirts.

“You were amazing.” Mickey picked her up and spun her around.

“Thanks,” she laughed. “So, what did you guys think?”

Everyone started to compliment her performance at the same time. Y/N blushed because she wasn’t used to compliments they were giving her and let out a laugh.

“So, instead of driving back to San Diego this late, my producer is out of town and allowed us to use her house to sleepover,” Y/N told them. “What do y’all think?”

Everyone nodded their heads in approval and started to leave the venue.

[redfurrycat]

🤠🧒💟🐓Childhood Sweethearts-Friends Fic Recs🐓💟🧒🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Blood_mocha_latte, Dracculaura, Greenstuff, Hangmanbradshaw, Happypuppys, Haridwar, Hugheschierdaddy, Lesbiseresin, Orphan_account, Renai_chan, Stardustsunflower, Whimsicule.

> High School & College/University AU

You Make Me Live by Renai_chan {E}

Once upon a time, Jake met Rooster. Eight years later, he's a freshman at the US Naval Academy, and Bradley Bradshaw comes back into his life. Except, they've both grown up, and with growth, paths diverge.

bombs are falling everywhere (it's heartbreak warfare) by blood_mocha_latte {T}

He doesn’t really remember the first time that he met Jake Seresin. (Or, the childhood friends to enemies to lovers to rivals to lovers we all desire, coupled with angst with a happy ending and a side of icemav)

crickets sing in the fields near by by dracculaura {T}

After the death of his mom, Jake moves in with Bradshaws.

come hell or high water by orphan_account {G}

Bradley Bradshaw, determined to live up to his father's legacy, enlists in the Navy right out of high school, leaving his best friend, who is also probably the love of his life, home with his godfather to finish out high school. He definitely isn't worried about Jake at all. Jake is definitely fine. He definitely isn't worried about that thing that happened at the airport that they never actually spoke about. And he definitely isn't worried about these feelings in his chest that keep threatening to spill out of him. Everything will be fine, right? Or, how Bradley falls in love, finds a home, and remembers how to be happy again.

Always by greenstuff {E}

Jake meets Bradley for the first time when they're eighteen. This is the story about how they fall in love, break up, and then spend years finding their way back to each other. A modern Persuasion, if you squint a bit.

in this world, it's just us (you know it's not the same as it was) by happypuppys {_}

He changes in the bathroom quickly, brushing his teeth and fixing his hair before he walks out, rolling his eyes when Bobby wolf-whistles. “Really objectifying me.” Bradley grabs his phone, and Bobby laughs. “You just look like you need objectifying.” Bobby replies, laughing again when Bradley wrinkles his nose. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave that to Jake.” “I don’t even like him.” He argues, but even he can hear how much of a lie that it sounds like. or, the story of Jake and Bradley, from childhood to what comes after the mission

change is alright by haridwar {M}

Jake bet fifty-fifty on whether he was going to enjoy this conversation and stepped up to the passenger side door just as the window rolled down. He was greeted with a warm, smiling, moustachioed face which took him off guard. Though Jake didn’t recognise the driver, something about him verged upon familiar. His smile faltered as his gaze flitted over Jake’s face, eyes tightening in a way Jake didn’t want to overanalyse, but it made him seem no less friendly overall. “Where you headed?” “Closest ranch,” Jake replied, trying to keep his tone neutral as he made the snap decision to not identify himself for reasons he would rather not think about. or... little bit of homecoming, whole lot of drama

I’m alright with a slow burn by lesbiseresin {M}

Maverick’s eyes lower to focus on the figure whose head barely reaches Copperhead’s hip, a blonde boy that looks to be around Bradley’s age. “And this must be Jacob.” “Jake,” the boy corrects. He only crosses his arms when Copperhead taps his shoulder in a silent reprimand, but Maverick doesn’t seem to mind. He laughs and exchanges an amused look with Copperhead before moving his hand into a similar grip on Bradley’s shoulder. “Well, Jake. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Maverick. This is Bradley.” Bradley blinks owlishly at them both until Maverick nudges him. “Hi.” (alternatively: jake & bradley over the years)

racing ghosts by stardustsunflower {T}

Jake hasn’t seen Bradley in almost two decades, and hasn’t seen Maverick for longer than that. But here they are again, the people he’s supposed to work with to save the country or the world or something, and hopefully not die in the process. Bradley is still just as angry as he was back then, which Jake doesn’t want anything to do with anymore. He got caught up in that mess years ago, and he isn’t about to do it again. Really. He’s staying out of it. So far out of it.

be the ocean where I unravel by whimsicule {T}

He’s not even thirty years old. A lieutenant in the United States Navy. A highly-decorated aviator with two air-to-air kills. And he’s suddenly gone ahead and become scared of the goddamn sea. What a fucking joke.

take me home where we met so many years before by hangmanbradshaw {_}

On the day of Jake and Bradley's wedding, three best friends look back on how they got there. Or the Seresin-Bradshaw guide to laying under the stars through all stages of life

(i'll still look at you) like the stars that shine by hugheschierdaddy {T}

When Jake Seresin was four years old he met Bradley Bradshaw. Jake and Bradley fall in love over the course of their lives, with the tree house present for each big moment.

[usafphantom2]

EP-3E Aries II Spy Plane Has Flown Its Last Operational Mission

Current tensions in the Middle East prolonged the final deployment of the EP-3E Aries II intelligence-gathering aircraft.

Posted on Nov 7, 2024 3:41 PM EST

Another long-serving U.S. military aircraft has completed its final operational deployment, with the return of the U.S. Navy’s EP-3E Aries II surveillance platform from the 5th Fleet area of operations. The countdown to the spy plane’s final retirement is now on, which will see its vital intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) mission handed over fully to the MQ-4C Triton high-altitude, long-endurance drone.

VQ-1

Another long-serving U.S. military aircraft has completed its final operational deployment, with the return of the U.S. Navy’s EP-3E Aries II surveillance platform from the 5th Fleet area of operations. The countdown to the spy plane’s final retirement is now on, which will see its vital intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance (ISR) mission handed over to the P-8A Poseidon maritime patrol plane, the MQ-4C Triton high-altitude, long-endurance drone, and other assets, including ones in space.

The last EP-3E deployed on operations was Bureau Number, or BuNo 159893, which completed its final flight in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operations on October 29. The aircraft then made a homecoming to its base at Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, Washington, according to the Facebook account of Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VQ-1), the “World Watchers,” which posted photos of the event yesterday.

Ground crew welcome EP-3E BuNo 159893 on its return to Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, Washington. VQ-1/Facebook

The U.S. 5th Fleet area of operations covers approximately 2.5 million square miles of water and includes the Arabian Gulf, Red Sea, Gulf of Oman, as well as parts of the Indian Ocean. The area includes three highly strategic choke points at the Strait of Hormuz, the Suez Canal, and the Strait of Bab el-Mandeb at the southern tip of Yemen.

The tense security situation in the region at the moment saw the EP-3E’s final operational deployment extended.

240928-N-AC117-1132 (Sept. 28, 2024) A U.S. Navy EP-3E Airborne Reconnaissance Integrated Electronic System (ARIES) II, assigned to the “World Watchers” of Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VQ-1), transits within the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operation.

EP-3E BuNo 159893 transits within the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operation, in a photo dated September 28, 2024. U.S. Navy Commander, Naval Air Forces

Originally, the U.S. Navy had scheduled VQ-1 to cease operations by September 30, 2024, ahead of the formal deactivation of the unit on March 31, 2025.

According to the VQ-1 Facebook account, the squadron was first ordered to delay the cessation of operations until October 8, 2024, after which it was required to continue its missions in the region until an undetermined date.

240928-N-AC117-1118 (Sept. 28, 2024) A U.S. Navy EP-3E Airborne Reconnaissance Integrated Electronic System (ARIES) II, assigned to the “World Watchers” of Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VQ-1), prepares to take flight within the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operation.

EP-3E BuNo 159893 prepares to take flight within the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operation. U.S. Navy Commander, Naval Air Forces

Another VQ-1 EP-3E that had been deployed also recently returned to Whidbey Island, with photos of that aircraft’s homecoming posted by the unit on November 4. This was BuNo 161410 that had been operating from Souda Bay, on the Greek island of Crete, under U.S. Central Command.

For some time now, the Navy has been sending EP-3Es into retirement, delivering them to the 309th Aerospace Maintenance and Regeneration Group (AMARG) at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Arizona, for storage.

As we reported last month, the most famous EP-3E of all — BuNo 156511, which was involved in a collision with a Chinese J-8 interceptor over Hainan Island in 2001 — has been moved from the AMARG boneyard to go on public display in the future at the Pima Air & Space Museum in Tucson, Arizona.

The spy plane at the center of one of the most notorious post-Cold War Today air incidents, a U.S. Navy EP-3E Aries II, has arrived at the Pima Air & Space Museum in Tucson, Arizona, for future public display. The EP-3E’s journey to get to the museum has been a long one, starting with the dramatic collision with a Chinese fighter in the so-called Hainan Island incident in 2001.

EP-3E Aries II BuNo 156511 is towed to the Pima Air & Space Museum last month. Pima Air & Space Museum

Pima Air & Space Museum

Meanwhile, the end of the EP-3’s operational commitment after nearly six decades of service has been commemorated by the Navy. A press release from the service included recollections from EP-3E crew members, providing a rare glimpse into a highly secretive community, and one with a very sensitive mission.

“It’s amazing to think of the number of folks who have been part of the EP-3 heritage over the last 55 years,” said Lt. Cmdr. Justin “Gump” Roberts, the VQ-1 detachment officer-in-charge. “Success in this platform has solely been because of our hard-working maintenance team while on deck and our aircrew’s superior ISR while on station. It’s an honor to be part of a legacy that’s bigger than the sum of its parts.”

The aircraft commander at VQ-1, Lt. Bradford “Chad” Holcombe, added that he was “tremendously grateful” to be part of the EP-3E’s history.

“From my first day at VQ-1, it’s been obvious to see the pride each member has in the platform, the mission, and most importantly the effort it takes to execute wherever and whenever we’re asked,” he said. “Flying the last mission flight is a privilege.”

240928-N-AC117-1132 (Sept. 28, 2024) A U.S. Navy EP-3E Airborne Reconnaissance Integrated Electronic System (ARIES) II, assigned to the “World Watchers” of Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VQ-1), transits within the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operation.

240928-N-AC117-1132 (Sept. 28, 2024) A U.S. Navy EP-3E Airborne Reconnaissance Integrated Electronic System (ARIES) II, assigned to the “World Watchers” of Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 1 (VQ-1), transits within the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operation. Commander, Naval Air Forces

Finally, words were offered by Capt. Dennis “Rudy” Jensen, Commodore of Task Force 57:

“My father was a P-3 pilot during the Cold War, and I’ve flown the variants of the same aircraft since 2002. Few other airplanes are as ‘time-tested and mother approved’ as the P-3,” Jensen said. “Its longevity and ability to operate from remote locations in austere environments for over half a century is a testament to those who designed, built, maintained, and operated it. Much like the ever-changing platforms onboard the flight deck of an aircraft carrier, the mission systems inside the EP-3E have evolved over time. The ability to evolve has enabled the EP-3E to remain viable and effective through today.”

During its time in operational service, the EP-3E played a fairly covert role as a central intelligence-gathering asset within the Navy’s Maritime Patrol and Reconnaissance Force (MPRF).

Derived from the P-3 Orion maritime patrol aircraft, the EP-3E was optimized for operations in the maritime/littoral domain. It was packed with equipment to gather real-time tactical signals intelligence (SIGINT), including intercepting communications and locating and classifying emitters, especially those related to hostile air defense systems.

The cabin of the preserved EP-3E BuNo 156511 as it appears now. Pima Air & Space Museum

A typical EP-3E comprised six flight crew and a reconnaissance crew of 18, who would be drawn from the Navy, Marines, and Air Force.

Data could be processed and analyzed onboard by the crew, then fused together with other critical information. The resulting ‘product,’ including full-motion video intelligence, could be provided in near real-time to fleet and theater commanders.

Overall, the EP-3E was able to provide commanders with specific indications and warnings, as well as build a better picture of the battlespace for situational awareness. Intelligence it gathered on air defense systems would be potentially vital for suppression of enemy air defenses and destruction of enemy air defenses, while other information would be used for anti-air warfare and anti-submarine warfare applications.

Successive upgrades ensured that the EP-3E remained a valuable asset and also added new capabilities. While it was primarily a SIGINT platform in the early years, it later became a ‘multi-intelligence reconnaissance aircraft,’ with new equipment that could hoover up a variety of electronic emissions including at long standoff range.

An EP-3E Orion aircraft, center, is followed by two EA-3B Skywarrior aircraft during flight operations near Gibraltar. The three aircraft are from Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 2 (VQ-2).

An EP-3E followed by two EA-3B Skywarriors during flight operations near Gibraltar, circa 1991. The three aircraft are from Fleet Air Reconnaissance Squadron 2 (VQ-2). U.S. Department of Defense PH3 FRANKLIN P. CALL, USN

The EP-3E’s mission saw it operate in various high-threat areas throughout its career. As well as around the coasts of China — which led to the Hainan Island Incident — regular areas of interest included the Mediterranean Sea, the Middle East, and the Caribbean. In the process, intercepts by hostile or potentially hostile fighters were commonplace.

The video below shows an encounter between an EP-3E and a Russian Su-27 Flanker fighter jet over the Black Sea, in 2018. On that occasion, the Navy says the jet came within five feet of the surveillance aircraft, causing a mission abort, and return to base.

Replacing the EP-3E with the MQ-4C has been a gradual process. Tritons have been operating from forward deployment bases in Guam in the Pacific and Sigonella in the Mediterranean, for some time. Most recently, a third Triton deployment base was established in the U.S. 5th Fleet area of operations, on October 1, allowing the EP-3E to stand down from its duties there.

A Navy MQ-4C Triton drone arrives at NAS Sigonella in Italy on March 30, 2024. U.S. Navy

Flying at a higher altitude and offering a longer endurance than the EP-3E, the MQ-4C offers some significant advantages. While a multi-mission platform, it’s the Triton’s so-called Multi-Intelligence (Multi-Int) configuration with additional electronic and signals intelligence capabilities that will take over from the EP-3E. Since it’s uncrewed, there is also no risk to the crew, something that EP-3E operators were exposed to on a fairly regular basis.

Despite this, in 2022 the Navy decided to dramatically reduce its total planned purchases of MQ-4Cs from 70 to 27. This came after increased questions about the drone’s survivability after one of the interim Broad Area Maritime Surveillance Demonstrator (BAMS-D) aircraft was shot down by Iran in 2019.

Some of the EP-3E’s missions will also be taken over by the P-8A Poseidon maritime patrol aircraft. The baseline Poseidon has a signals intelligence capability, allowing it to detect, geolocate, and classify emissions, including from radars and other air defense nodes, which is also now set to be upgraded. Some P-8s are configured to carry other intelligence-gathering payloads, such as the AN/APS-154 Advanced Airborne Sensor, as well. Boeing has internally funded the development of a modular multi-mission gondola-like pod for Poseidon, which is set to offer an additional way to relatively rapidly integrate sensors and other capabilities.

A U.S. Navy P-8A carrying the AN/APS-154 Advanced Airborne Sensor (AAS), a powerful and secretive radar system mounted in an elongated pontoon-like pod under the fuselage. cvvhrn

“The transition from the EP-3E to the P-8A Poseidon and MQ-4C Triton platforms has been carefully planned to avoid capability gaps,” the Navy says. “These platforms offer enhanced intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance capabilities, with greater range, endurance, and the ability to operate in more complex environments.”

The Navy will also be able to leverage other emerging U.S. military ISR assets, including new spaced-based surveillance capabilities.

While the EP-3E’s time is now nearly up, there remain a handful of other Orion variants still in U.S. Navy service. These include P-3C, NP-3C, and NP-3D aircraft flown by Air Test and Evaluation Squadron 30 (VX-30) at Naval Air Station Point Mugu, California, and by Scientific Development Squadron One (VXS-1) at NAS Patuxent River, Maryland. Many of these are also in the process of being replaced.

While many secrets of the EP-3’s exploits are still to be revealed, there’s little doubt that this platform made an enormous contribution to gathering intelligence from hotspots around the globe during its long and eventful period of service.

Contact the author: thomas@thewarzone.com

[novastories]

Line Without A Hook

Title and chapter loosely inspired the song “Line Without a Hook” by Ricky Montgomery.

Summary: Aurora arrives back in San Diego, and reunites with people she both expected and unexpectedly anticipated. 

Warnings: Swearing/language and mentions of PTSD

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Sorry I haven’t been posting as much, been going through some stuff mentally. But without further ado, here’s a longer chapter and enjoy the reunion of the BAP trio 💛

Thanks to my beta reader and editor @reginleight!

As always, likes are great and all, but comments, reblogs, and feedback are highly appreciated and loved! 🤭

Previous | Next | Masterlist

“Where do you want this last box, Rory?” Amelia asks from the living room.

“Over there in the kitchen please!” Aurora replies to her sister.

Aurora was so happy to be back in San Diego. She, Maverick, and her puppy, CJ, arrived in San Diego late last night and stayed in a hotel. Aurora had called her mom and Amelia the day she had left Washington DC, to let them know that she was going to be back in San Diego.

Penny and Amelia were currently spending the morning and afternoon with Aurora as they were helping her move into her new house within the city. Maverick had yet to see Penny and Amelia as he went straight to the Navy base where they had provided him lodgings for the upcoming mission. In the afternoon, he would be going to the Admirals to be briefed a little more on it. 

“I still can’t believe my little star is back in San Diego!” Penny gushes over her daughter, as she gives Aurora another hug for the hundredth time today. Aurora groans as Amelia cackles, taking the box into the kitchen.

“Mom,” Aurora whines as Penny refuses to let go of her eldest daughter.

“She gets worse with age. You should have seen her last year when I bought my dress for the homecoming dance,” Amelia snickers, holding CJ, who Amelia had already bonded with.

“My babies are growing up. I’m getting so old,” Penny groans, releasing her daughter.

Aurora and Amelia both roll their eyes and chuckle, knowing their mother looks so much younger than her actual age.

Aurora kisses her mom’s cheek as she finishes unpacking the box she was working on before Penny left, walking into the kitchen to most likely unpack the remaining box Amelia had brought in.

Aurora was lucky that NCIS had helped her find a nice three-bed and two-bathroom house she was able to rent on short notice.

Apparently, Gibbs and Director Vance had pulled a few strings to help her find a good place that was a ten minute drive from the Navy base since the NCIS office was also located there. As well as her mom’s house being fifteen minutes away, with another five minute drive from Penny’s house to Goose and Carole’s.

She would sometimes hear the sounds of the naval aircrafts flying above her house, and it made her smile remembering Bradley. And Jake and Peyton obviously, but mostly Bradley. Everything seemed to be settling in place.

“So, when do you start work?” Amelia asks, sitting on the floor and tossing CJ’s ball for him to chase after. The dog ran after the ball as it bounced away, skidding across the hard floors and almost tumbling straight into the wall. 

“On Wednesday,” Aurora recalls from the email she got from her new boss. Since it was a Saturday, her boss had figured Aurora would need a few days to get used to her new surroundings before she started her new desk work. 

Amelia smiles at her big sister from where she sat. She had missed Aurora so much, always looking up to her. When Amelia heard she would be coming home, she was so happy she screamed with excitement.

The two sisters were always close, with Aurora helping out as much as she could, especially when Amelia’s dad had left them. Amelia didn’t really consider her father as a dad, as Maverick had helped fill that void a while ago. But she never said it out loud. 

“Have you heard from Peyton lately?” Amelia questions her, as Aurora pulls out a framed photo of the family. Aurora sighs as she hears the question. She stares longingly at the photo, where it was Maverick, Penny, Amelia, Peyton, and her at their graduation party.

“You know for being the talkative one out of all of us, he sucks at replying to letters,” Aurora responded, setting the frame down on the table next to her. 

“I hope he’s doing alright,” Penny sighs, walking back into the living room.

She knew not to worry too much about her son, but it never got any easier when he went on deployments. She preferred if all her children lived in the same place, even though she encouraged them all to live out their own lives and dreams.

“He’s fine. He has Bradley,” Amelia surmised.

“That’s what I worry about,” Aurora chuckles, as she pulls out the stuffed rooster that was given to her by Bradley when he told her his callsign.

Aurora thinks back to the letter she wrote to both of them. She didn’t tell them about meeting Hangman, or any of her cases. Just that she was usually drowning between paperwork and fieldwork.

Penny and Amelia give each other a look as Aurora stares off into space.

Even though they were both happy that Aurora was home, they noticed she was different, even though they just saw her today. Sometimes she would go into a daze for a bit before returning back to normal. She would flinch and reach for her knife at a loud noise sometimes, occasionally falling silent and biting her cheek, or even fidgeting with her bracelet.

Penny knew a bit of her PTSD to an extent, but not the whole story, where Amelia didn’t know anything. They didn’t say anything though, wanting Aurora to get settled before saying anything. 

“Any big plans tonight?” Penny asks, drawing Aurora out of her mind.

“Probably nothing as fun as what you’re going to ask me,” Aurora smirks at her mom.

“Well, how about a little help tonight at the Hard Deck then since you don’t have to work yet?” Penny suggests. “Amelia is sleeping over at her friend’s house. I had a coworker have something come up and I need someone to help me with the Saturday rush.”

“Sure! I haven’t bartended since college, so I might be a bit slow,” Aurora shrugs.

“No, you’ll be fine,” Penny reassures her. “Plus, you’ve always been good at it.”

“And there’s always hot eye candy to look at too!” Amelia pipes in.

“Amelia!” Penny turns to her youngest daughter. Aurora bursts out laughing at her sister’s antics.

“Not that it matters, you only have eyes for Bradley,” Amelia teases in a singsong voice.

Aurora rolls her eyes, not objecting to her statement, and throws bubble wrap at her. Amelia catches it and tries throwing it back at Aurora and soon they end up throwing a lot of the leftover bubble wrap around, with CJ jumping up and down, joining in the chaos.

Penny chuckles at her daughters, wishing Peyton was there to complete the family.

—

Maverick had just finished his meeting with Cyclone and Warlock as he sat at the bar of the Hard Deck. How was he not only supposed to train this new group of aviators but also work with his godson who had still yet to even talk to him ever since he pulled his papers from the Academy? 

He had already spotted two of the students he was going to be training for the mission at the dartboard, noting that he could already sense the ego of the blonde guy. He was texting Ice about his meeting before he heard a voice speak to him.

“Dad?”

He looked up and saw Aurora had walked in with her purse in hand with a confused look on her face. Maverick turned to her, confused about what Aurora was doing at the bar.

“Sweetie? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same question. Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting with your higher-ups about the mission?”

“I finished. Why are you-”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” a voice says behind the bar. Maverick turns back towards the bar and sees Penny. “Pete.”

“Penny? What are you doing here?” Maverick questions, stunned and confused, until remembering the bar he’s at and laughs to himself. He was so deep in his thoughts, he had forgotten that Penny owned the bar and was most likely working.

“I should ask you the same thing,” Penny answers him. “Hi sweetie, you can put your bag in the office near the kitchen,” Penny tells her daughter. 

“Sure thing, mom.”

“You’re working the bar tonight?” Maverick asks Aurora. 

“Duh, gotta help mom out,” she winks at both of them heading towards the kitchen/back area and leaving her purse inside the office before walking out toward the bar area.

“No way. Artemis?!” a voice calls. Aurora freezes in her tracks and turns to the voice.

In all his glory, stood Jake Seresin in his khaki uniform, standing next to the dartboard. 

“Holy shit! Hangman?” Aurora was stunned.

Last she had heard from him, he was stationed down in Texas, near his family for the time being. They would message each other now and then, as they had truly bonded quite a bit ever since Aurora had saved his life.

He holds out his arms, as Aurora walks quickly towards him and launches herself into his arms. 

“What are you doing here?” Jake questions the woman after pulling back from the hug, holding her within arm's length.

“Reassigned to the office here in San Diego. What about you?”

“Called in for an assignment at Top Gun. They called in the best of the best,” Jake answers proudly. Aurora freezes for a bit. 

Does that mean Bradley would be called back? What about Peyton? No way, she thought. They would have called her. She shakes that thought from her mind, focusing back on the guy in front of her.

“Who’s this?”

Aurora and Jake turn to the friend he was with, the other guy confused as he had never met the woman who had hugged Jake.

“Oh, crap right. Coyote, this is Aurora. Aurora, this is my friend, callsign Coyote,” Jake introduces.

“Lieutenant Javy Machado, at your service ma'am,” Javy says as he puts out his hand for Aurora to shake, to which she does. 

“Aurora Benjamin-Mitchell, nickname Artemis,” she smiles proudly. 

“Wait, hold on. As in THE Artemis? The NCIS agent who is part of the infamous Gibbs team in DC? The team that solved the Port-to-Port killer case?” Javy questions incredulously. He wonders how Jake knew her.

“The one and only,” she proudly smirks at him before shortly being called by Penny to hurry and get behind the bar.

“Sorry for the short introduction. Duty calls,” Aurora winks at both of them before hurrying towards her mom, who was still talking to Maverick.

“Wait. Mitchell? As in?”

“Apollo? Yeah.”

“Holy fuck.”

“Holy fuck is right. C’mon. I’ll tell you all about it while I beat you at pool,” as Jake drags Javy to the pool table.

Aurora was behind the bar and she could hear her mom and dad talking, and she smiled at their interaction. She loved seeing her parents together.

Even though many times they’ve told the kids to never get their hopes up of them getting together, Aurora also held hope for them. She saw the way her dad looked at her and her mom never talked badly about Maverick, even though Maverick would leave constantly. They loved each other too much to ever talk badly about each other.

Aurora was drawn out of her thoughts when her mom rang the bell. She looks at her dad and sees that he has his cell phone on the bar, looking around confused.

“What am I missing?” He asks his daughter. She chuckles and gestures to the sign.

“Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your phone on my bar,” he reads.

“And you buy a round,” Penny finished his sentence. Aurora laughs as she scoops ice into a shaker and makes a drink for someone. 

“For everyone?” Maverick looked around, nervous as there were quite a few people in the bar.

“I’m afraid rules are rules,” Penny smirks at him.

“You’re lucky it’s early dad,” Aurora chuckles as she leaves to serve the drink. 

Aurora smiles as she hands the drink to a lady, taking her card to open a tab for her. She was getting into the groove of things behind the bar with her mom.

She used to bartend a bit in college before her NCIS internship in order to earn a bit of money on the weekend. It helped her out a lot during an undercover case, as well as when her mom purchased the Hard Deck. 

“What do we have here?” Aurora hears Jake call out from across the bar. She turns and glances at who he’s talking about, seeing a woman and two other men wearing their khaki uniforms enter into the bar.

“If it ain’t Phoenix!” Jake smiles at the woman who had stopped in front of him. “And here I thought we were special, Coyote.”

Aurora rolls her eyes at Jake’s ego literally oozing out from him, as she turns to reach the beer tap next to her, filling a drink for someone. A bit goes by and she hears Jake call for her.

“Artemis, my dear.”

Aurora rolls her eyes as she turns to him.

“What do you want, Hangman?” 

“I’ll have four more on the old timer,” Jake says, as he makes eye contact with Maverick.

Jake didn’t know who he was, which made Aurora want to laugh, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Say please,” she teases.

He rolls her eyes as her mom comes up right behind her.

“I got it, can you get some glasses in the back for me? And fill up the kegs as well,” Penny tells her.

“Sure, mom.”

“Mom?” Jake asks, as Aurora was about to leave. She winks at him, as she rushes to go to the kitchen, but before she does, she goes up to the jukebox and puts on the song “Tramp.”

It was a song Bradley had added to the Spotify playlist that he, Aurora, and Peyton shared, and it reminded her of him. She smiles as it comes on, before running to the back. 

Outside, Bradley had just parked the Bronco outside the Hard Deck and turned to Peyton. 

“You ready?”

“Hell yeah.”

Together, they both exit the car and strut into the Hard Deck with their sunglasses on. Both of them decided to forego their khaki uniform and wear comfortable clothes instead.

“Ha! Someone’s playing your song Rooster,” Peyton chuckles, as Bradley rolls his eyes, not that Peyton could see it.

“Bradshaw! Mitchell! Is that you?”

Penny and Maverick turn to see the two standing near the Hard Deck doorway, shocked. Maverick knew Bradley was going to be part of the mission, but he didn’t know about his son being stateside. Penny didn’t know either of them would be back. 

Bradley and Peyton walk up to Natasha. 

“This is how I found out you both are stateside?”

“We just thought we’d surprise you,” Peyton smirks, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into his shirt pocket.

Bradley chuckles at his best friend’s remark, but then grunts in pain as Natasha hits him with the pool stick as she hits her ball into the pocket.

“I guess I surprised you back,” Natasha replies as Bradley looks up. 

“It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.”

Bradley pats her shoulder before standing up to say hello to everyone else. Peyton hugs Natasha before greeting Mickey, who was also someone he had met during his time at the Naval Academy.

“Here you go,” Penny says, before handing over the beers to Jake.

“Thank you,” he genuinely says to Penny, now that he also realized that Penny is Aurora and Peyton’s mom.

“Much appreciated Pops,” Jake says to Maverick, winking at him before heading to the jukebox. 

Maverick shakes his head going back to nursing his drink. 

Aurora, still in the back, was bobbing to the faint music as she moved a few of the empty kegs so she was able to change the hose to the full kegs. The full kegs were always heavy to move, so she knew this would take a while. 

The jukebox changes to the song Jake had put on, “Slow Ride,” and Aurora in the back chuckles knowing that it was him that put the song on. Jake soon walks back to the pool table and spots Bradley Bradshaw.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe,” Jake smirks as he hands the beers to Coyote and faces him. He takes the pool stick from Bob as he lines up to take a shot.

“Hangman, you look…good,” Bradley admits before giving a quick glance to Peyton next to him, to which Peyton, who was sitting on a bar stool, kicks him.

“Well, I am good Rooster,” Jake says as he shoots the ball into the pocket. “I’m very good. In fact, I am too good to be true.” 

He stands up and sees Peyton and tries to keep cool. “Apollo, still attached to Bradshaw's hip I see.”

“Hangman, still vying for attention I see,” Peyton retorts back.

“So,” Payback interrupts the two. “Anybody know what this special detachment is about?”

“Well, a mission’s a mission. They don’t confront me” Jake replies.

Bradley had to hold in a chuckle before turning to Peyton, who was trying his hardest not to let out a groan, as Peyton had repeated those exact words to Bradley that day. 

“What I want to know is,” Jake continues, “Who’s gonna be team leader?”

The pool balls clatter. 

“And which one of y’all has what it takes, to follow me.”

Bradley was over Jake’s ego, so he decided to say something back.

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.”

It quiets around them, besides the music playing in the background, while you can hear Mickey let out a small laugh. Peyton smacks Bradley’s arm, while even Natasha looks at Bradley with a little disbelief. 

Jake smirks at Bradley as he makes his way in front of Bradley, passing by Payback and Phoenix. 

“Well, anyone who follows you is just gonna, run out of fuel,” Jake smirks as he sits on the edge of the pool table. Bradley smirks at him, keeping eye contact and never backing down.

“But that’s just you, ain’t it Rooster,” Jake sighs as he stands up to eye Bradley, chest to chest.

“You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment, that never comes,” Jake whispers to him.

Not only did Jake mean in the sense of Bradley’s flying skill, but also meaning Bradley’s waiting for Aurora. Jake wondered how long Aurora would wait for him if Bradley would ever make a move. Aurora would brush it off whenever they talked about it via letters and texts.

Him and Bradley stand chest to chest, neither backing down. “Slow Ride” continues playing in the background.

“I love this song,” Jake grins, as he walks away and leaves Bradley, pondering what Jake had said. Natasha walks up to Bradley, who both were watching him walk away towards the bar.

“Well, he hasn’t changed,” Nat says.

“Nope, sure hasn’t,” Bradley looks at Nat and they both just roll their eyes at Jake.

“So am I the only one who felt the sexual tension, or…?” Peyton speaks up.

Bradley swats at him, and they both laugh it off. Bradley sits next to Peyton, both watching the next pool game happen, their seats against a pillar blocking the bar.

Aurora walks back out of the area, and lugs the box of clean glasses from the kitchen, to the bar. 

“Need help there, hon?” Penny asks her, moving out of the way so Aurora could set the box down.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll set them down over there on the other side of the bar.”

Aurora sets down the box as she huffs to take a breather.

“You look like you were struggling for a bit there.”

Aurora looks up and sees Jake leaning against the bar, smirking at her.

“You think you can do better?”

“Oh, I know I can,” Jake teasingly winks at her as she laughs.

She fiddles with her bracelet, and Jake realizes how much Aurora was still struggling with her PTSD and anxiety. He gave her a worried look, to which Aurora shook her head, not wanting to talk about it.

“Need another beer?” Aurora asks.

“Please.”

Nat looks back over to Jake and sees him flirting with a woman, whom she felt she recognized, but couldn’t quite place her.

“Hey, who’s Hangman flirting with? She looks familiar.”

Mickey, Bob, and Payback look to where Nat was gesturing towards. 

“Oh, that poor girl. She must be a new bartender,” Mickey assumes.

“She’s pretty cute though,” Payback admits.

Coyote looks over to where they were looking, laughs to himself, and takes a glance at Peyton and Bradley who still had yet to look at Jake and Aurora. 

“Wait, who?” Peyton was confused, feeling a bit jealous, but trying not to show it. 

“Look, over there,” Bob says as he points behind Bradley and Peyton, towards the bar.

Peyton and Bradley both get out of their seats to look at Jake and this so-called new bartender and they froze.

Aurora and Jake were laughing as Aurora handed him a beer.

Peyton was the first to react as he got up and walked past Nat, Bob, and Mickey who were staring at the two.

“Wait, Apollo, what are you-? Rooster? Where the hell are you two going?” Natasha was confused at their sudden urgency.

Bradley trails behind Peyton, knowing it was best to let the twins have their own reunion first. 

Peyton walked faster towards the bar. Soon he could hear his sister and Jake talking until he spoke up.

“Rory.”

She froze and looked over Jake’s shoulder, gasping.

“Pey?” 

She exited the bar area and ran straight into her brother’s arm, tearfully wrapping her arms around him. It had been about 3 years since they last saw each other, the longest they had been away from each other.

Jake smiles at the two, before leaving to go back to the pool table to give them space for their reunion.

“What are you doing here?” They both asked at the same time before laughing and looking into each other’s eyes.

Peyton examines his little sister, who didn’t look so little anymore. Her dark brown hair now had faded blonde tips, Peyton guessed from when she had dyed it and just decided to let them grow out.

Aurora smiles as she puts her hand on her brother’s cheek. She could feel the stubble underneath her hand. Peyton and Aurora, as different as they are, were the spitting image of each other, especially now that they had grown up. 

“Wait, if you’re here then…” Aurora trails off before looking over Peyton’s shoulder, tears filling her eyes.

There stood her best friend, all grown up. Bradley was not the lanky boy she had left those years ago. He had filled out, and had a mustache just like his father. She would poke fun at it later, but all she could do is take him in.

Bradley couldn’t believe the girl he was just thinking about was finally right in front of him again. He had to be dreaming. It wasn’t until Aurora tore herself from Peyton and started running towards him did he finally realize this was reality.

He took her into his arms, lifting her up and swinging her into a little spin, as she gripped onto him tightly, giggling and burying her face into his neck.

He stopped after a few turns, setting her down, before taking a good look at her, cupping her face in his right hand, and leaving his left hand on her waist. Aurora stares at the man in front, her heart beating fast, finally being back in the presence of her best friend. 

“Am I dreaming? You’re actually here?” Bradley wistfully asks her, still not believing Aurora was right in front of him.

Aurora smirks as she keeps her hands around his neck, even with the height difference, she was on her tippy toes to help reach around his neck.

“Dream of me often, Bradshaw?”

Bradley chuckles in disbelief. He gives Aurora a kiss on her forehead before replying.

“Every hour, every minute, every second that I breathe princess,” he whispers with his raspy voice into her hair.

Aurora’s breath hitches at the nickname. It had been so long since she had heard him say that. She would never get enough of Bradley calling her nicknames.

Her heart was full of love, as Peyton approached the two, grouping all of them into a hug. 

The trio was back together as they held each other tightly, before letting go. 

“What are you doing here, Ro? Aren’t you supposed to be back in Washington DC?” Peyton asks her.

“I was reassigned to the San Diego NCIS office after uh…after realizing I wanted to come home, especially for Amelia and mom,” Aurora changes her answer quickly, remembering she had yet to tell them about her PTSD. Technically it was the truth, just half the truth.

Aurora then realizes that the two idiots in front of her didn’t even call her to let her know that they were both stateside.

“And you two! When were you both going to tell me you were stateside?” She accuses the two. 

Bradley and Peyton suddenly both looked interested at their surroundings, refusing to look at Aurora.

Peyton soon spots his mom and his dad across the bar. He sighs, relieved that he found a way out.

“Oh my gosh, is that mom and dad?” Peyton interrupts Aurora mid-rant of telling them off for not letting her know they’d be in San Diego. “I better go say hi to them!”

Immediately, he’d taken his way out and left to go say hi to their parents.

“Peyton, get back here!” Aurora follows her twin. Peyton tries not to run into people as he tries to escape his sister’s wrath. 

Bradley chuckles, realizing how much he missed the twin’s antics before following them, knowing he also had to say hi to Penny and Maverick.

As much as he wanted to avoid Maverick, he knew his dad would be mad at him for not saying hi to his godfather. 

“Oh, my baby boy!” Penny hugs Peyton tightly, just as Aurora caught up to him. Aurora rolls her eyes, as Peyton sighs, realizing he had safely escaped her fury. For now at least.

“I’m not done with him yet, mom!” Aurora hisses at Peyton.

“Now, now little star. You and your brother behave while you’re in the bar. Don’t make me ring the bell.”

“For what?!” both the twins exclaimed.

“For Peyton, disrespecting a lady. For Aurora, disrespecting the Navy.” Penny shrugs, with a mischievous grin.

Both the twins start to protest until Penny reaches for the bell, about to ring it. They stopped arguing, realizing it was best not to piss off their mom.

“That’s better. Oh, Bradley! It’s good to see you as well, hon!” Penny smiles, as she reaches to give Bradley a hug. Peyton and Aurora roll their eyes, knowing the Bradshaw boy was well-admired by Penny. Peyton turns to give his dad a hug.

Aurora stares at Bradley, realizing how much Bradley looked different from a few years ago. His biceps were bulging from the gaudy Hawaiian shirt he wore, and she could feel his chest when they hugged.

Realizing she was still staring, Aurora turned to join Penny behind the bar again, an attempt to calm the blush that was threatening to show on her face. She fanned herself a bit, feeling hot all of a sudden. Aurora couldn’t believe she was ogling at Bradley so outwardly.

“How long are you two here for?” Penny asks both the boys after Bradley had given Maverick a nod, not wanting to interact with him much more beyond that.

“Not sure yet, we’ll know after we find out what our assignment is tomorrow,” Peyton answers his mom.

“Where are you two staying?” Maverick questions both of them, wondering if they were staying on base.

“Mom and dad said we could stay at their house until they come back next week,” Bradley answers, giving a side glance to Maverick, before settling his eyes on Aurora.

Staring at her, he was really seeing how much she had changed since the last time they’d seen each other. He couldn’t help but admire Aurora, watching as she moved about behind the bar, helping her mother. He was full-on ogling her, and as soon as Peyton noticed this, he elbowed Bradley to stop. 

“Wait, I have two spare bedrooms at my place! Just move in with me!” Aurora suggests. 

“Are you sure? We don’t want to be a bother,” Bradley was hesitant and gave Peyton a glance. 

Peyton smiles, as he wouldn't mind sharing a house with his two favorite people. Plus, it would get Peyton more opportunity to get Bradley and Aurora together. He was already plotting out a scheme in his head. 

“Of course! You’d have to share a bathroom though. Oh and I have CJ, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Bradley’s heart sank. Who was CJ? Was it her boyfriend? 

“CJ?” Peyton speaks up for both of them, as they were confused at who Aurora was talking about.

“Oh, yeah, CJ! My emotional support puppy!” Aurora chuckles, realizing what it had sounded like at first, not noticing Bradley’s reaction.

Bradley lets out a sigh. Okay, so not a boyfriend. 

“Wait? Why did you name your dog CJ?” Bradley wonders. Penny laughs, as she hands someone a drink.

“She won’t tell anyone else, but whatever it was, she told Amelia and they laughed for like ten minutes straight.” 

“Well, if you’re okay with it. We’d love to be your two new roommates!” Peyton smiles as Bradley nods along with his statement.

“Wonderful. We’ll settle everything tomorrow then,” Aurora smiles at both of them.

They nod as they realize that work was really starting to pick up for Penny and Aurora at the bar. Bradley and Peyton decide to head back to the pool table where some of the other newcomer aviators had joined the rest. Aurora smiles before giving them a wave.

Before the evening rush could get any worse, Maverick decided to ask Penny to close out his tab for the day. Penny leaves to close it, while Maverick talks to his daughter for a bit. He started noticing Aurora getting a bit apprehensive, chewing her inner cheek.

Reaching out his hand, Maverick offered it to Aurora to ground herself with. Glancing over, there was little hesitation before taking it and slowly taking a few deep breaths. Once calmed enough, she whispered her thanks to him before releasing the grasp.

Penny then comes back with news about his card. 

“It’s been declined,” Penny states. Maverick looks at her in disbelief while Aurora arches a brow in amusement.

“You’re kidding?” Maverick sputters.

Penny shakes her head. Maverick reaches for his wallet, and pulls out a few bills. Glancing at the receipt Penny held in her hand, Aurora’s eyes went wide at seeing the total.

“How about-?”

“That’s not gonna cover it,” Penny shows him the paper. Maverick chokes at the sight and awkwardly chuckles.

“Uh, I’ll come by tomorrow and bring you the cash.”

“I’m afraid rules are rules, Pete,” Penny says as she rings the bell. The crowd cheers at the sound as someone yells overboard.

Aurora groans, feeling second-hand embarrassment that her dad was getting kicked out of the bar, and also the fact her mom had rung the bell.

“Overboard, overboard!” 

Jake, Javy, and Reuben show up behind him. Jake smirks at Maverick, before the three boys lift him out of his seat to throw him out of the bar.

Aurora waves her dad goodbye, as she knew he could handle himself. She wished she could be in the room on Monday when Jake found out that not only did he throw out his instructor for their mission, but Aurora and Peyton’s dad as well. 

“Great to see you, Pete!” Penny waves at Pete being carried away. Aurora uses the rag that was on her shoulder to whack her mom for her stunts. Penny smiles, realizing how much she had actually missed Maverick.

The jukebox soon stops working, and the crowd groans at the lack of music.

Penny sees the Bradshaw boy, followed by her son going towards the bar, before realizing that they had been the ones to unplug the jukebox.

She takes a glance at her daughter who was starting to get a bit restless. Penny knew it wasn’t because she was tired, but the crowd was getting a bit much for her, as Aurora started fiddling with her bracelet again. 

Penny looks through the crowd and sees Bradley and Peyton walk their way towards the two.

“Hey Mama Pen, do you think Aurora can go on her break?” Bradley asks her with a pleading face.

Penny laughs. “She’s done for the night actually, take her for me, will ya Bradshaw?”

“Gladly!” Bradley smiles. Aurora turns upon hearing this.

“Are you sure, mom? I can finish up here-”

“Nonsense, Jimmy and I have it from here. Now go, before I change my mind.” Penny reassures her daughter. She gives Aurora a quick kiss on the cheek before heading to the other side of the bar.

Aurora smiles before putting her rag down, and stepping away from the bar. Bradley grins at her exiting the bar area, before lifting her over his shoulder.

“B! Put me down!”

“You’re coming with us, sweetheart.” Bradley smiles, as Peyton pats his sister’s back before they traipse towards the piano.

Bradley sets her down on the piano bench, while Peyton stands next to her, as Bradley sits on the other side of the bench. He smiles at Aurora before showing off his piano skills, playing a little jazz melody, knowing Aurora was a sucker for jazz. She rolls her eyes, as Peyton leans on her.

Soon a few people joins them.

Nat pats Bradley on the shoulder before turning to introduce herself to the girl sitting next to him.

“I’m Natasha Trace, callsign Phoenix.”

“Aurora Benjamin-Mitchell,” Aurora smiles at the woman shaking her hand.

Nat lights up at the name. No wonder she looked familiar to her. She was the girl in the photo Bradley had in his cockpit every time he flew. Peyton and Bradley always talked about her whenever they had the chance.

They were interrupted as Mickey, Reuben, and Bob came to introduce themselves to the girl.

“Wait, you’re Artemis, right? Apollo’s sister?” Payback asks, as Bradley continues riffing on the piano.

“Unfortunately,” she sighs as Peyton hits her arm.

“Holy crap. Is it true you saved Hangman from a killer?” Mickey asks. Peyton and Bradley turn to Mickey confused. 

“What?!”

“I don’t know, ask him yourself,” Aurora gestures to Jake and Javy who were walking over to join the group. Bradley huffs, scooting closer to Aurora, feeling a bit threatened by Jake's and Aurora’s friendship, knowing he would ask her about it later. 

“Yo, Hangman. Is it true Artemis saved you from a killer?” Mickey repeats the question to Jake when they get closer. Jake laughs and looks at Aurora.

He takes a sip of his beer before nodding at the question. “She brought a knife to a gunfight,” he answers. They all gasp as Aurora rolls her eyes.

“You’re leaving out details,” Aurora says.

“Holy damn, you’re badass. How are you Apollo’s sister?” Natasha wonders out loud.

“Hey!” Peyton protests.

They all laugh. Aurora turns to Bradley who has gone silent, still playing a bit on the piano. She smiles softly before putting her hand on his thigh. He looks up from his hands, meeting her gaze. 

“Great balls of fire?” She asks him.

Bradley smirks. “Only if you sing it with me, princess.”

Aurora nods, and soon Bradley starts off the song.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Bradley looks at Aurora and Peyton before they join in with him singing.

Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

Everyone around them starts singing along, and soon the whole bar starts cheering and singing along as well. 

Outside, Maverick watches all of this happen from outside. He gets flashbacks of him and Goose singing the exact same song, with Bradley and Aurora on top of the piano, and Peyton on Goose’s lap.

He remembers how he almost lost Goose, and how this mission could change almost everything. Maverick wonders if Bradley was ready for the mission, and if he didn’t choose Bradley to fly, what would happen to their relationship? Bradley would never forgive him.

Maverick then looks at his son and daughter and sees their smiles. He hadn’t seen Peyton in a long time, but Maverick was just happy to see Aurora smile since they had left Washington DC. He walks away, leaving them to enjoy their moment. 

Kiss me, baby.

Bradley gestures his head for Aurora to give him a kiss on the cheek, to which Aurora smacks her hands on her lips and uses the hand to push Bradley’s cheek away. Peyton chuckles as Bradley fake pouts at Aurora for not giving him a kiss, but continues on singing. 

Ooh, that feels good, baby

Hold me, baby

I wanna love you like a lover should

You're fine, you're so kind

I'ma tell the world that you're mine, mine, mine, mine

Aurora glances to see Jake nodding along to the song, who was looking at Peyton. Peyton seemed to actively refuse to look his way. Making a mental note of that, she knew she would have to ask her twin about this later.

For now though, she decided she was going to take in this moment, watching the people around her play off of Bradley’s energy.

Kiss me, baby.

Aurora gives Bradley a kiss on the cheek to which he grins and glances at Aurora. 

Ooh, that feels good.

Bradley gives a little fake shudder, as Aurora laughs at his action, singing until they end the song.

Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

Everyone in the bar cheers for Bradley. He stands up to give a little dance and Aurora shakes her head and laughs.

“Rooster! Rooster!”

Aurora stands up and claps along with everyone as she watches Bradley twirl and give a few more dance moves. Finishing his dance break, Bradley smiled at the scene around him. He glances at Aurora who was standing next to Peyton after the song before dragging the twins into a tight hug.

For now, everything felt right. Not worrying about the past or future, and instead living in the present with each other. 

- - -

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—

Disclaimer: This story is fictitious. All works are written by me and only posted here. Please do not copy, repost, or plagiarize on any other platform without my permission!

[salantami]

As Captain James Stockdale climbed into the cockpit of his A-4 Skyhawk on September 9, 1965, he could scarcely have imagined the seven years of hell that awaited him.

Stockdale’s plane was shot down over North Vietnam that day. He ejected, breaking his back and badly dislocating a knee when he fell to earth. Soon captured, he was beaten severely then sent to the now-infamous “Hanoi Hilton” prison. Over the next seven years he was submitted to brutal torture 15 times. Malnourished and denied medical attention, for four years he was kept in solitary confinement, and for two years in leg irons.

A graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy with a master’s degree from Stanford, Stockdale was the highest-ranking naval officer American POW in North Vietnam. A respected and natural leader, he organized a system of communication and support among his fellow POWs, helping to keep them unified and alive. (Meanwhile, back in the States, his wife Sybil was relentlessly lobbying the government on behalf of the POWs, eventually launching a highly effective public awareness campaign. A hero in her own right, she deserves and shall have a Dose of her own.)

When Stockdale learned in the spring of 1969 that the North Vietnamese were going to display him and other POWs to a selected group of foreign journalists, presumably as evidence of the good treatment they were receiving, he cut his scalp with a razor and beat himself in the face with a wooden stool so that he couldn’t be used for their propaganda. Denied the opportunity to parade him before the press, his captors punished him with more brutal and agonizing torture. Later, when his covert intra-POW communication network was discovered, Stockdale was singled out for another round of torture. To prove to them that he would never submit, Stockdale slashed his wrists. As his Medal of Honor citation reads: “He deliberately inflicted a near-mortal wound to his person in order to convince his captors of his willingness to give up his life rather than capitulate. He was subsequently discovered and revived by the North Vietnamese who, convinced of his indomitable spirit, abated in their employment of excessive harassment and torture toward all of the Prisoners of War. By his heroic action, at great peril to himself, he earned the everlasting gratitude of his fellow prisoners and of his country.”

In February 1973 Stockdale was released as part of Operation Homecoming. He returned to the United States, the torture having left him barely able to walk.

Already one of the most highly decorated officers in Navy history, in 1975 Stockdale was awarded the Medal of Honor. In 1979 he retired from active duty, with the rank of vice admiral.

After the Navy, Stockdale devoted himself to academics and college administration. He was awarded 11 honorary doctoral degrees.

[thenavysealkie]

Homecoming (Marcus Solo)

Timing: Late August

Location: Navarro, Oregon; Marcus’s childhood home and home of Mr. and Mrs. Fremont.

Parties: @thenavysealkie

Triggers: Gun use, Familial death

It had been some time since Marcus had seen his parents in person. In fact, he had only recently spoken with them for the first time since going AWOL from the navy and being presumed dead. He knew that if he left any trace of himself near where he had gone missing, the navy would be after him with their bloodhounds. He would rather be dead to most of the world than have to endure the level of humiliation that arrest would cause. 

He had had a long drive from Maine, literally driving across the country. While a plane ticket would have been much more convenient, again, Marcus still had to lay low. As he pulled into his old neighborhood, memories of his childhood and adolescence came flooding back to him. As he went by the old park, now covered in graffiti and appearing abandoned, he remembered the times he would spend playing with his cousin Archer. Archer lived only two blocks away and was three years older than Marcus. In spite of the gap in age, the boys still loved playing together and were inseparable into their adolescent years. 

At long last, Marcus had arrived at his childhood home, his parents’ cars both in the driveway. They were ready for him. When he had first called his mother, she was overwhelmed with relief at learning that her little boy was still alive. When she went to hand the phone off to his father, a sense of dread filled him. His time in the military, his rank and status, it was all so he could continue to bring pride and honor to the Fremont name, which his grandfather had worked so hard to build up. His father drilled in this sense of virtue and accomplishment his whole life, and he was worried he would be seen as a failure. 

As it would turn out, Marcus didn’t have to be worried about anything. His father sounded as though he was nearly in tears at learning of his son’s safety, and only expressed concern about the missing pelt. They both knew what could happen if Marcus was away from it for too long, and the last thing his father wanted was for his son to be in mortal danger after just getting him back. He agreed with his son that for right now staying in William’s good graces would be his best course of action until he can find a way to steal it back from him. 

When Marcus approached the front door, both of his parents greeted him warmly before letting him inside. They had updated the furniture a bit, but everything else was just as he had remembered. He passed by photos on the mantle in the living room: his graduation from the naval academy, his parent’s wedding, and a picture of the whole Fremont family together. His grandparents had long since passed away, but his aunt and uncle were both still alive and well. 

“I made some pigs in a blanket for you, hun. I know they’re your favorite.” His mother’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he turned his attention towards the kitchen, where both of his parents now stood. 

He let a slight smile pass across his lips before simply saying “Now we’re talking. Thanks Mom!” He couldn’t help but feel like a kid again. Both of his parents looked as though they’d barely aged a day, and now here he was enjoying some nice food that his mom had cooked for him. Sure, it was just pigs in a blanket, but that was a meal that always reminded him of his childhood. 

“So,” his father began, gruffly “how are things over by where you’re staying at? I know you told me over the phone that the residents of that town are a little…unusual.” 

“They’re like me and you Dad. In fact, some of them are even weirder. They all think I’m a regular person though, just a very strong swimmer who tends to the lighthouse.” He decided not to let him know that two people in town actually did know who he actually was. He especially didn’t want to tell him about the hunter by the beach, since it was still possible he could turn on him for profit at any second. But the man had saved his life, and seemed trustworthy. Mackenzie, too, seemed harmless enough to trust with his secret. After all, she had confided her identity to him first, so it was only fair. 

“Well don’t let anybody find out. And I mean anyone.” His voice became more stern, it was the authoritarian attitude Marcus had grown accustomed to hearing from the man. “Letting it slip to one person is how you found yourself in this mess to begin with. I’m glad you’re safe Marcus, honestly I am, but you’ve got yourself in such a mess right now…”

“He’s breathing and sitting across from us at our dinner table!” his mother cut in. “That’s ‘success’ enough for me.” His father deflated, deciding it wouldn’t be worth it to try and lecture Marcus any further. His mother then turned her attention back towards him. “Obviously you’re not in the best spot right now, but you’re making the most of it and doing everything you can to make things right. That’s all I could ever ask for, I’m proud of you baby”. 

Marcus felt comforted by her words; he couldn’t help but feel like a colossal failure by having his pelt and, in turn, his livelihood stolen by someone he thought he could trust. Hearing her say she was still proud of him in spite of everything was the reassurance he needed to not get too down on himself. 

“We both think you’re a good man who just made a mistake” his father added in. “We just want you to be careful, that’s all. There are a lot of bad people in this world, you don’t want to end up like Archer, do you?” “Earl!” His mother tried to stop the words from leaving the man’s mouth, but it was too late. They both knew his experience with his cousin when they were younger was a traumatic one that was still a sore spot to this day. 

When Marcus was 15 and his cousin Archer was 18, they were swimming off the coast of their hometown as they always had. Archer had mentioned to him earlier that day that he felt as though a pale man had been following him home the past few nights. He would always follow from across the street, but would never let Archer leave his sight. He joked to Marcus that if somebody was trying to kidnap him they’d have a hell of a time doing it in the water. 

Not too long after, they heard the sound of a boat speeding towards them. Thankfully they had already changed back into their human forms at this point. It wasn’t driven by the pale man Archer had mentioned, but another man with a full black beard and wearing a vest over a flannel shirt. He looked like a standard fisherman that would usually fish in these waters. 

“You boys are out pretty far from the shore, must be pretty strong swimmers to withstand these currents. Need a ride back to shore?” 

Marcus was wary of the man, especially since they had no good way of disguising their pelts to the man. Currently they were just under the surface of the water, likely barely hidden from the man’s view. He wasn’t confident that the man wouldn’t know what the pelts were or what value they held. 

Archer, however, was not raised to be cynical and questioning of every stranger he met, so he gladly accepted the ride before Marcus could say anything. To this day, Marcus regrets not speaking up sooner in that instance. Both boys boarded the boat, Marcus taking care to hide his pelt behind his back as inconspicuously as possible. His cousin, however, boldly held his in his hand as though it were a pair of sandals. 

“Fancy wetsuits you boys have…are those wetsuits? They look awful unique.”  The man quickly put the boat into gear and began soaring across the water again. 

“Oh yes, very unique. And also very tight. It was starting to mess up my swimming, which is why we ended up just taking them off.” Archer replied, again all too quickly.

The man nodded. “Almost like a second skin, eh? Well in spite of being uncomfortable, I have it on good authority those go for an extraordinarily high price.” 

Both boys now became nervous. Was this a human that knew more than they had assumed, or did he really think the wetsuits cost that much? 

Swallowing hard, Archer asked “And, uh, whose authority is that?” 

“Mr. Deveraux, of course. He’s been watching you, and he’s been getting hungry.” 

Archer’s blood ran cold. The pale man. 

“Very kind of you to bring a friend with you, make it a two for one deal. He’s already paid me very handsomely for bringing you to him. He even said I could keep the pelt to myself.”

Suddenly, the man turned around with a pistol in his hand and fired three shots into Archer’s chest. They boy dropped to the floor, clutching at his chest and trying to hold pressure over the bleeding. “Marcus, run!” He managed to shout out as the man fired two more shots in Marcus’s direction, narrowly missing both shots. Marcus had backed up towards the back end of the boat and quickly jumped overboard, donning his pelt as he did. He swam away as quickly as he could. He heard the man curse behind him before something long and metallic nicked the side of his seal body. It was a harpoon gun, one that would have surely spelled death for him had the hunter’s aim been a mere two inches to the right. 

“Marcus!” His mother’s voice finally snapped him out of his memory. 

“I’m sorry, son. I shouldn’t have brought up what happened that day,” his father said apologetically.

“Nah, it’s okay," Marcus began, shaking himself from his daze. It was a memory he relived often, although he usually tried to pull his mind towards something else quickly if he caught himself starting to think about it. "I understand that there’s danger everywhere. And until I get this situation with William sorted, the danger is never going to go away. That’s why I have to go back.”

“We understand, son”, his mother said, nodding. 

“We wish you could stay longer, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. You’ve got your demons that you're facing, and you’ll conquer them. I’m sure of that much.”

The next day, when it was time to leave, Marcus and his father stood face to face. It wasn’t until Marcus had experienced this disaster of losing his pelt that he felt as though he were a man in his father’s eyes. Now, facing him, he didn’t feel like a teenager desperate for his father’s approval. He saw himself as a man facing another man. His equal. One that showed mutual respect. His father simply gave him a salute and a firm handshake before saying “make me proud, son. It was good seeing you”. 

And with that, Marcus prepared for another long journey back to Wicked’s Rest. Land of the undead, hunters, and all varieties of cryptid. But, more importantly, the land of William and his pelt. He waved goodbye to his parents who were standing at the doorway before driving off. As he came out of the neighborhood, he kept his head turned to the left, not wanting to look at that goddamned park again. He was done with memories for the time being.

[brooklynislandgirl]

[Beth and Seal] - ❤♡❥ღ💕💘💝💓💌💟💙💚💜💛

Heart Eyes || -

❤: who is more affectionate in public? in private?

There are rules that are expected of service-people and their partners, especially when it comes to being in uniform and on base. Hugging, kissing, holding hands and even holding children are considered acts unbecoming. The only exception to this is a homecoming greeting after deployment. The senior officers understand and might be willing to overlook a hug that lasts a little too long, or a kiss that is just the other side of modest. Luka never had to explain this to Beth like some people do; she was born and bred into the Naval life.

So it is under those auspices that she only hugs him for a few seconds when she meets him at LaGuardia. She has told him a hundred times that she doesn't mind driving to New Port but he always turns her down. Says it makes it easier on him. It isn't until his apartment door closes behind him that she turns and jumps. Arms around his neck, legs wrapped around his waist. Six feet, five inches and two hundred some pounds get toppled back toward the door by five feet and less than half of him as she launches into him, before his bag even hits the floor. ♡: who is the bigger romantic openly? secretly?

People don't understand how difficult it can be when their partner is spending nine months or more at sea or overseas, though Luka does try to email every day, or text multiple-times on his off-duty hours. Phone-calls are much rarer between them, and sometimes with operational security to consider he can't always keep up his end of the conversation, which is where traditional letter writing comes in handy. Somehow, her scent manages to linger on the stationary, and he's yet to find a single speck of the purple glitter of her pen staining his uniform. Sometimes he holds them close to his nose to remind himself of what he's missing, rereads each word a hundred times like they're new. Sometimes he can wait up to a month to reach port, only to find thirty or thirty-one envelopes to greet him when she can't. He lives the details of her life in those lines and he keeps her picture ~laminated against the elements~ taped to the bunk above his own. She'll never know just how much he hates knowing that's the only way he can see her smile every time he wakes up. Nor does he know that half the world away, she's doing the same thing. ❥: who is more likely to plan something big for valentine's day?

"Hey you comin' O'Rian? Doin' drink an' drown in Nonbei Yokocho." "No' tonight, House." He shakes his head. "But bring me back a bucket o' karaage, would ya?" "If I remember." "If." Shore leave in Tokyo is always a good time, but tonight is Valentine's. Which means for the next four hours he's got his hotel room to himself. In forty-five minutes, he showers, shaves, puts on his PT sweats and a tee-shirt. The lights get turned down and the door gets locked. He makes up a batch of his own drinks from the mini-bar but mostly it's room-service coffee, and a few things from what would be considered the snack menu. Props himself on the bed and gets comfortable. Makes sure the camera on his laptop captures his best side. She calls exactly five minutes later. "Aloha, Lulu." "Y'sound tired, luff." "No, jus' long night. But I got sunrise, an' a bottle of wine, an' I got you f' 'least next two hour." They've been planning this for weeks, ever since he'd brought it up and the tilt to her chin says no matter how sleepy she might be, they're having a proper movie date. Especially when he'd confessed to never having seen Casa Blanca before. "D'at ye do. Tell me when ya press play." ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public? It isn't jewels or shoes or dresses that catch her magpie gaze. The things that would set him back a year or more but for her is just a whim to indulge and forget. No, what has her periodically catching his wrist, what makes her sparkling eyes widen beyond their already Disney proportions, and sounds that only bats could register? Plants in a nursery at the farmer's market, organic soil potted and ready for transplant. Heirloom tomatoes and hen-of-the-wood mushrooms. Sustainably sourced cotton hand-sewn stuffed animals, the shark and the ray in particular. A frog they can't leave the open air market without her bringing home. Luka smiles over each and every instance, doesn't mind carrying the bags over his shoulder if it means she'll keep holding his hand as she skips back to the car. 💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people? One of the things that Beth keeps in her hope chest, laminated to within an inch of its life, is the red-vines sign that Luka first made then used to snare himself a nurse-shark. She remembers being in mortal peril of dying via embarrassment seeing him stand on the lawn in front of the hospital doors, waiting patiently for her to see him holding it as high above his head as possible. She remembers the other nurses flocking in around her, each of them first commenting on him, then on the first date proposal. Sometimes she'll take it out and run her fingertips over the encased red candy and she smiles. It's nothing like she'd ever expect and that was why it worked. 💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

Maybe the first time it was really evident that Luka liked her was the time, now lost in the archives of Beth's memory ~had it been a Superbowl party? Some other huge gathering?~ that everyone was sitting around the apartment. Andy and Brian, Corey and Tabby, Martin and Jay, and they'd been playing silly party games but somehow, Beth had ended up with very hurt feelings. She remembers slipping out of the house and making her way down to the beach-side walk. And Luka, in a show of solidarity, or perhaps only wanting to make sure she didn't do anything stupid, had followed her. She remembers telling him she wished she could be a boat. That was the first time she ever recalls him looking at her the way he does. And at the time, she didn't really understand. Thankfully, he had the patience to let her bloom and in that way, proved he plans on being in it for the long haul.

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

Gift boxes sit all around Beth's living room. She more than most has the space to collect them and organise them. And maybe because of her connections, the wives and husbands of Luka's team appreciate her help. Now, that doesn't necessarily mean that they'll get their holiday care-packages on time and because of that, there has to be nothing with a short-shelf life or that comes under the list of contraband, including sexy photos of one's spouse or significant other. Gifts have to meet customs standards set forth by both the Military and the host country. Packages have to be addressed properly with their FPO address, down to the full ship designation and which fleet they are assigned to, and so on. Beth understands why a lot of people in their situation tend to wait for their soldier or sailor to come home before celebrating birthdays and holidays. But she also hates the idea of having nothing to look forward to, and so she starts packing another box. 💓: who initiates most physical contact?

As soon as they are far enough away from the idea of Command and Luka has ditched his day-wear for jeans and a tee-shirt, Beth is the first to launch herself into his arms, hers wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist. Fortunately, he's strong enough or she's negligible enough that he can carry her around like some demented koala bear for a good hour. At home, she often tends to dip her toes under his leg or curl up at his side when he's watching something or playing a game. She doesn't need his constant attention, so long as some part of her is directly touching some part of him. She even tries to be the big spoon at night. He has to give her credit though, knowing when she can leave behind impressions of her teeth, and when not to put a single hickey on him. Destruction or damage to military property and all. 💌: who is more likely to send cutesy texts to the other?

One arm exits the cover of her duvet and blindly gropes around for her phone. Once she's taken hold of it, she drags it back under the blankets and squints hard as she can to type in her pass-code and then read the text she has received. Despite the urge to throw the device across the room, she smiles and sends back a couple of sort of sloppily chosen emojis. She's been asleep only long enough to disengage from the world, where as Luka is coming off his watch. Today it's a school of dolphins from the port bow. Yesterday, it was clouds that reminded him of the Cliffs of Mohr. Tomorrow it might be a kiss from inside his rack, if he can get three seconds alone and away from his ship mates.

💟: who spends time reading their zodiac compatibilities?

"Well, Pisces men are ruled by planet of Neptune, known as da God of da Sea, an' dis relates to dreams, delusions, perplexion, an' aspect of da psyche. Cancer women are ruled by da Moon itself, which deals wit' subconscious states of da Mind, varied sentiments, an' is associated wi' discovering one's true self. "He is a person who is very sympat'etic, always tryin' his best to be helpful to oddahs. Apart from bein' too kind and warm-hearted, he is also a creative an' intuitive soul. She also empat'ises wi' her loved ones, showering dem wi' care an' affection. She is emotionally strong but very sensitive, loaded wi' passion an' mood swings." Beth peeks up over the magazine cover, trying to gauge his feelings, or at least how hard he tries to keep a straight face. "Da rulin' element of Waddah makes dem bot' have a wavering mindset, so inspite of t'inking a lot, are not good wi' expressin' dey feelings. Dis makes it difficult for clear communication to take place, which also hampers da Pisces Man/Cancer woman compatibility. Togeddah dey tend to be physically clingy, an' da sex is supposed to be phenomenal; romantic, emotional, an' steamy all a' once." She pauses, then rises and tosses the magazine into the recycling bin. "Yeah, I t'ink it's all nonsense." 💙: who is more protective? They look at each other for several minutes, not saying a single word. The conversation flies fast and loose in a series of meaningful looks, some fantastic eye-sex, and ends with two very different sort of grins. One then points to the other. 💚: who tends to get sick more often? who is better at taking care of the other? Beth has is almost never physically sick though there are days during her meds cycle that sometimes lay her low, and others when her depression is so severe, she can barely stir much less get out of bed. Luka is equally a hearty soul without some of Beth's more delicate issues, but when he does come down sick, it hits him hard. She has never forgotten helping him into the shower to help take down a fever.

💜: who said "i love you" first? or, if neither has said it yet, who is more likely to say it first? It comes to the surprise of absolutely no one that those particular words came out of Luka's mouth, and maybe he regrets them. She doesn't know. She has tried to say them back. Beth feels the emotions that she thinks can only be described by the word but every time she tries, they get caught up in her throat until she nearly chokes on them. So instead, she tries to show him in every way she can. Sometimes, she can manage a quiet but silly little 'lava you'. Riley doesn't think his sister will ever really get over her fear of abandonment and her fear of the L word. 💛: who believes in soulmates? Each will accuse the other of this. They both know it's true.

[gitanjalithoratsblog]

Delayed Homecoming: Sunita Williams' Continued Journey in Space

Astronaut Sunita Williams is currently making headlines as she extends her stay aboard the International Space Station. Initially scheduled to return to Earth in a week, Williams and her crewmate Butch Wilmore are facing a delayed homecoming due to technical issues with the Starliner spacecraft.

Who is Sunita williams?

Sunita Williams is a Indian born American naval officer and NASA astronaut. She holds several records for her accomplishments in space exploration. She was born on September 19, 1965, in Euclid, Ohio, to Indian-American parents.she graduated from the United States Naval Academy in 1987 with a degree in physical science. Williams served as a test pilot in the US Navy before being selected as a NASA astronaut candidate in 1998.

Space Missions :

Sunita Williams' first space mission was STS-116, launched on December 9, 2006, aboard the Space Shuttle Discovery. She spent 195 days aboard the International Space Station (ISS) as a flight engineer, marking the beginning of her remarkable spaceflight career. Instead of returning to Earth, Williams stayed on the ISS and joined the mission, STS-117, which launched on June 8, 2007. She finally returned to Earth on June 22, 2007, after an extended stay in space. This continuous 322-day stay in space set the stage for her future records and achievements."

Sunita Williams' second space mission was Expedition 32/33, which launched on July 15, 2012, aboard the Russian spacecraft Soyuz TMA-05M. During this mission, she spent 127 days aboard the International Space Station (ISS) as a flight engineer and later became the commander of the ISS. She was return to earth on November 19, 2012.

Sunita Williams is currently on the International Space Station (ISS) as part of the Boeing Crew Flight Test mission . This mission launched on June 5, 2024, and was expected to return after eight days, but technical issues with the Boeing Starliner's return module have delayed her return indefinitely.NASA has been considering alternate options for their safe return. NASA is conducting multiple checks and testing to insure the starliner's safety before returning to earth.

Health Concern:

Prolonged space travel can pose several health concerns for astronauts such as Radiation exposure, Increased risk of cancer,Muscle and bone loss,vision problems and eye damage,Sleep disturbances,increase risk of cardiac problems,Increased risk of infections.

Reportedly, Sunita Williams is experiencing Spaceflight Associated Neuro-ocular Syndrome (SANS) a condition observed in astronauts that affects the eyes and brain during and after extended space missions. It is characterized by changes in vision, increased intracranial pressure, and structural changes in the eyes.

As Sunita Williams continues her extraordinary journey in space, we pray for her safe return and marvel at her remarkable achievements, inspiring generations to reach for the stars.

Jai Hind🇮���🇮🇳🇮🇳

Gitanjali Thorat (Press Article Blogger)

22/08/2024

[gulfcoastinspired]

Soaring to New Heights: Celebrating 75 Years of Excellence with the Blue Angels Homecoming Event in Pensacola

November 5, 2021, Pensacola, Florida – In a dazzling display of precision, speed, and aerial artistry, the legendary Blue Angels returned to their roots in Pensacola to celebrate their 75th-anniversary homecoming event. The skies above Naval Air Station Pensacola became a canvas of excitement as the iconic Navy flight demonstration squadron showcased their prowess and paid homage to their storied…