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roosterforme · 9 months

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The Intern Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley had an easy way about him that you appreciated. Working for him all summer sounded promising, and you were determined to make it fun for both of you. But as you dipped your toes into getting to know one another on the flights from San Diego to Lisbon, you ended up closer to him than you ought to be, both conversationally and physically.

Warnings: Language, brief mention of drugs (eventually 18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

"I still can't believe someone is paying me fifty thousand dollars to spend my summer on a yacht," you mused as the private Cessna jet gained altitude over the California desert landscape.

Bradley turned and looked at you from his plush leather seat across the narrow aisle and smirked. "You needed the money that badly?"

"Don't play games," you told him, and he laughed. "My point is, I would have done this for free just to get Ted off my back."

His fingers tightened a bit on his armrest, knuckles growing white as he closed his eyes and said, "Now you tell me. My department budget could be looking a lot fatter right now if it wasn't for you."

You could feel the airplane leveling out as the flight attendant, a woman named Melissa, stood and made her way back toward the two of you. "Oh please," you groaned, earning one of those grins from him that made you feel light inside. "I know how much the shareholders make, Mr. Bradshaw. It's not like it's not listed on the Nasdaq Composite if you dig deep enough."

"Can I get anything for either of you?" Melissa asked.

"I'll take an Old Fashioned, please. Hold the cherries," you replied while Bradley just shook his head in a jerky motion.

When Melissa disappeared behind the black curtain, you asked, "Why are you so tense? Have a drink and relax."

He huffed out a laugh. "It's eight in the morning. A drink is not going to help me."

You leaned a little closer, and his gaze definitely dipped down to your unzipped sweatshirt. "Don't tell me you're into something harder?" you asked, already thinking you'd be disappointed by his answer. You'd been there and done that. Hung out with and dated guys who were users, and it was not something you wanted to be around. Even out of your sorority sisters, there were only a handful who weren't high all week during grad school.

Bradley looked at you with alarm. "I'm absolutely not going to allow drugs on the yacht, Ivy League."

"Good," you replied right away, already feeling more at ease as Melissa dropped off your cocktail. "Thank you."

But she was looking at Bradley now as she said, "Please let me know if I can get you... anything."

He waved her off as you took a sip of your mediocre cocktail. Melissa had gone a little heavy handed with the bitters, probably because she was too focused on your hot boss to measure things correctly. "Take a sip," you told him, reaching across the aisle with your glass. "You look like you need it."

He grunted and accepted the drink, and a few seconds later, he had downed the whole thing. "Thanks," he whispered. "I hate this part of traveling to Europe for Avio. The flights are going to take forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him and took back your empty glass while he white knuckled the armrest again. "You were an aviator, Mr. Bradshaw."

When he looked at you again, his cheeks were a little flushed as he softly said, "You don't have to call me that. Bradley is fine."

"Bradley," you said with a smile, and his face softened a little bit. "Why don't you like the Cessna? I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also hoping for something at least a little more luxurious from Avio, but it's not that bad."

He shook his head at you, something you were pretty sure you were just going to have to get used to for the summer. But his mustache twitched as he licked his lips and said, "Maybe chartered flights are normal for you, Ivy League, but I got used to being the pilot. Of something much less comfortable than a Cessna Hemisphere. So this just feels inherently wrong to me. I mean, I just drank a cocktail."

"Inhaled," you corrected. "And technically it was my cocktail," you said, waving to Melissa and holding up the glass and two fingers.

"Semantics," he grunted. "I miss my Super Hornet right now. Not only were there no drinks, there wasn't even a bathroom."

You watched Melissa duck behind the curtain again, probably to forget how to make a cocktail again. "Well, we'll be there soon," you told Bradley.

"I doubt these pilots can do Mach 2, so not fast enough for me."

You sighed, knowing this would probably be a lot easier for him if you could get him to drink a second Old Fashioned, but when Melissa dropped two more of them off, they were both garnished with a cherry. "I asked you to hold the cherries."

"Oh, yes. Sorry," Melissa muttered. "I can remove it for you."

"I'm allergic, so I'll actually need you to remake mine," you replied, and Bradley started to hand his back as well.

"Remake hers, and mine too," he grunted, suddenly looking far less nervous about the flight as he made to stand up. "Fresh glasses and everything. I don't want cherries anywhere near her." You looked up at him in surprise as he kind of rolled his eyes and followed Melissa. "I'll make sure she does it right," he whispered, and you watched him walk up to the curtain, as confident as he usually was.

"Thanks," you replied, even though nobody was there to hear you now. Well, he had promised he'd do everything he could to keep you safe and comfortable. You watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, and you pressed your lips together. That blue Oxford shirt was the exact best color he could possibly wear, and you wondered if he knew it or if it was an accident that he chose it.

When he met your eyes, you didn't look away. You didn't really care if he knew you were checking him out. Until you did. Because when he walked back with two new drinks, you realized how little you knew about him. "Here," he grunted, voice deep and raspy. Then he clinked his glass to yours before sinking back into the aisle seat opposite yours again and buckling his seatbelt once more.

"Thanks for doing that."

He smiled at you. "Can't lose my intern on her first day. Especially since I've never had one before."

You perked up, loving that you'd cornered the market. "I'm your first intern?"

"Yeah." He was back to downing his drink and looking miserable now, practically throwing the empty glass aside in favor of gripping the armrest. Abandoning your drink after one sip, you stood and stepped over his outstretched legs, his eyes following your every move as you eased yourself down into the window seat next to him. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little amused now that you were just inches away from him.

"I am, but you're not," you told him with an air of authority. "Just relax," you added as you took his hand from the armrest and held it in both of yours. His brown eyes went a little wider, and his lips parted like he wanted to say something. Probably question what you were doing. But you said, "You'll feel better in a few minutes," as you worked your thumbs along the pressure points in his big, rough palm. And then he closed his eyes and without a word, he leaned back in his seat with his hand cradled in yours. Soon he was sound asleep.

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

Bradley woke up to an almost pleasant humming sound all around him. His hand was warm and wrapped up in something soft, and when he opened his eyes, your face was just a few inches from his as you slept. His body thrummed with something akin to desire as you pursed your haughty lips in your sleep, long lashes grazing your perfect cheeks.

Shit. His hand was resting on your body, fingers tangled up with yours and wrapped in your designer hoodie. His knuckles were pressed to the soft skin which was exposed between your high waisted pants and your damn sports bra. And based on the way the plane was started to descend, he'd taken a five fucking hour nap all cuddled up with his intern. With Ted's goddamn daughter.

Hands off. He'd been telling himself to keep his hands off of you, and just a few hours in, he was literally doing the exact opposite. But you'd been sweet to him, carefully massaging the pressure points in his hand until he was able to fall asleep. You must have drifted off then, too. And now he was loath to remove his hand from your body or look away from you.

He needed another fucking drink. Or several. He leaned carefully over you, and sure enough, he could see the New York skyline coming into view through the small window. And he could smell your perfume. And that was when you opened your eyes, immediately sitting up a few inches and nearly bumping noses with him.

"Sorry," he grunted. "I was just trying to see where we were."

"Where are we?" you asked, your voice soft and a little rough from sleep. Jesus, he liked the way that sounded.

"Almost to New York. Want me to ask the pilot to circle back to Philly so you can wave to your alma mater?"

You laughed and sat up a little more, arching your back, but you didn't immediately let go of him. "No, thank you. I've only been gone for a week, so I'm sure the City of Brotherly Love is enjoying this break."

Bradley found himself continually laughing at your words, but now you were looking at his hand all linked with yours, so he started to pull his free. You didn't stop him, and when you looked up at him, you even asked, "Did you sleep okay?"

He nodded his head once. "I did. Thank you. For making me feel better."

You sat up the rest of the way and stretched, and he had to look away as you said, "A good intern is good at everything."

Your words weren't dirty, so why the hell were his thoughts? He should be trying to find out more about your father, not imagining you wearing a fluffy white bathrobe while you drank an Old Fashioned sans cherry next to his bed. He was miles away in his mind when the plane touched down on the runway before taxiing to the refueling spot. His stomach was growling wildly now as Melissa walked back and offered them a very late lunch.

"I didn't want to interrupt anything," she said, looking between you and Bradley like the two of you had been all over each other. When she turned away to get the salads and sandwiches ready, you climbed over him to use the bathroom, and Bradley watched you ignore a phone call as you went. He also realized that he'd have to tread very carefully around potential clients over the next few weeks. It was one thing for Melissa to make a comment like that, but it would be something entirely different if a line like that got back to Ted.

While the plane was refueled and the pilots switched places for the longer flight from New York to Portugal, you and he ate in companionable silence. You'd returned to your seat across the aisle, and you ignored another call before tucking your phone away in your bag. Bradley also used this time to drink a gin and tonic in the hopes he'd be able to sleep again, slightly afraid you wouldn't join him on his side of the aisle to make him feel cozy again.

"We'll be taking off again in five minutes," Melissa informed him as she cleared away the meal and brought pillows and blankets. Your phone was out again now, and you ignored yet another call as Bradley shook his head.

"Are you going to keep me up at all hours of the night on the yacht yelling at your little boyfriend on the phone?"

You scoffed and looked right at him as you said, "I don't date little boys. Are you going to keep me up calling your wife and kids back in San Diego?"

He didn't want to laugh at the way you talked to him and kept him on his toes. He also registered that the way you'd let him hold your hand while he slept had only come from a platonic place if you were just now asking if he was married. "I don't have a wife or kids."

"Why not?" you asked, leaning on your armrest with your tits smashed together. "You could be married. If you wanted. You're tall and you have all your hair."

"Are those the only prerequisites?" he asked, trying not to look anywhere other than at your face. God, your little bikinis were going to be the absolute death of him if he didn't get fucking laid soon.

"No," you replied without missing a beat. "You're smart, too. Handsome. Tons of money. And you seem nice. Good manners. You make me laugh. Seems like someone would have snapped you up off the market by now."

His cheeks felt warm again as he tried to figure out how to answer. You'd just complimented him nine different ways, and he was reeling a bit. "Because I was in the Navy. Nobody in their right mind would trust a Navy guy with that level of commitment."

"Why not?"

"They lie and they cheat," he said, repeating the lines women had been telling him since he was twenty two. "Nobody you'd want to settle down with."

But you didn't look convinced as your smile tilted a little higher on one side. "Are you a cheater?"

He knew somehow he wouldn't get away with speaking anything but the plain truth to you from here on out. "No."

"I didn't think so." You looked satisfied as you settled back in your seat, about to snuggle under your blanket. The sky was a little darker now, and there was nothing below except for the Atlantic Ocean.

He had a slight buzz from the gin, and he felt a lot better than he had earlier this morning. He reached for his bag and pulled out his laptop before crooking his finger and coaxing you back to the seat next to him. "We have a little work to do, Ivy League."

While he expected you to complain, you didn't. Rather you popped out of your seat with your pillow and blanket, climbed over him and settled in the window seat once more. "What is it?" you asked eagerly, and when he logged in to his email account, he saw something from Ted right away. Just a reminder to keep himself on track.

"I'm going to teach you a little bit about the Avio software we will be marketing, so by the time we land in Lisbon, you'll know as much as I do."

You curled up with your pillow and blanket and looked at him, your words doing more to him than you probably intended. "Don't test me, Sir, or I may end up knowing more than you."

"You're a brat."

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

This time when you woke up, it wasn't to Bradley's touch or his brown eyes. This time it was to Melissa's laughter and Bradley's soft voice. "When are you flying back to the states?" she asked him as you cracked your eyes open.

"Not any time soon," he replied smoothly. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Well I hope I'm on your flight back," she said flirtatiously as you propped your head up.

But Bradley wasn't paying attention to her now as he turned your way. "You're up," he mused, and you just nodded, wishing you'd had time to shower or check how you looked before he saw you. "We'll be landing soon. And then we'll get you and your designer luggage to the yacht."

You watched Melissa roll her eyes at you before she stood. "I'll be right back with coffee and some breakfast."

"Hold the cherries! Please!" you reminded her, just to be obnoxious. When she pretended she didn't hear you, Bradley chuckled. "You know, it's kind of refreshing being given an attitude. Is this how you feel when I give you one?"

His eyes went a little wider. "Don't make me call your father."

"I thought you valued your intern," you replied with a smirk. "So don't make me spread that nasty little rumor around Avio that you went to the University of Bumblefuck."

"Virginia," he snorted.

"Whatever."

Melissa dropped off mugs, a carafe of coffee, cream, sugar and pastries. "No cherry," she said blandly as you reached for a blueberry muffin.

"Much appreciated," you replied as you peeled back the wrapper and took a nibble while Bradley ate an apple danish in two bites before he poured coffee into both mugs. Clearly the two of you were hungry. You also had no idea what time it was. You had to put your phone on silent since your dad wouldn't stop calling you, even though you told him you'd talk to him when you got on the yacht.

"How do you take your coffee?" Bradley asked as you silently chewed. You went to reach for the creamer, but he pulled it away and looked at you.

You swallowed down your muffin and said, "Cream and sugar, but you don't have to do it. I should probably be doing it for both of us."

He shrugged and got your coffee fixed up exactly the way you would have made it yourself, as he said, "You and I will be working in close proximity, and I feel like this is the kind of detail I should know."

"Well how do you take your coffee?" you asked, but he set down the cream and sugar without adding anything to his. "Black, no sugar."

"Black, no sugar," he confirmed before taking a sip. You watched the alluring scars on his neck as he swallowed, once again surprised that he wasn't married. He didn't seem as helpless as your father, but he seemed like the kind of person who should have someone warm at home when he returned from work each night. Someone to look after him.

You took a sip of your own coffee and smiled, because it really was perfect, especially for something that was made on an aircraft. "Thank you."

"Any time," he responded, and you eased back in your seat and looked out the window as the Portuguese coastline came into view. You drank your coffee and picked at the muffin, watching as the very early morning sun made the Atlantic Ocean glitter. There were marinas filled with yachts and sailboats, and you wondered if Avio's was amongst them.

"Were you on the yacht with my dad last year?" you mused as the plane dipped lower in the sky.

Bradley set his mug down, and maybe it was just you, but his features suddenly seemed a little guarded. You'd always been good at reading people, which made it easy to get a favorable response when you needed one. But he'd never looked at you this way before. "For a few days. One of my buddies from the Navy was there too. Jake Seresin."

You blinked and his expression was neutral again. "The name sounds familiar."

Bradley laughed as the plane touched down. "The face will be familiar, too. Soon enough. He's champing at the bit to get onboard for a few days here and there this summer."

You set your mug down as well and said, "Don't worry, Sir. I'll dazzle him to bits during the dinner parties."

Bradley's nostrils flared, and his pupils grew wider. "I don't doubt that."

When you laughed, he smiled before looking down at his hands. "Well, Bradley, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get on the yacht. I wonder what kind of caviar the chef will serve for lunch."

You unbuckled your seatbelt, prompting him to do the same. "There are different kinds of caviar?" he asked, one eyebrow raised as he picked up your tote and handed it to you.

"Don't embarrass me, Bradley. The other interns will all laugh at me behind my back."

But he just shook his head as he moved to the side and said, "After you, Ivy League." So you led the way to the front of the aircraft, thanked both pilots and Melissa, even though she clearly didn't like you, and you climbed down the stairs onto the warm tarmac.

You shouldn't and absolutely couldn't keep reacting to Bradley the way you were, but when he placed his hand on your lower back and said, "This way," you nearly moaned. You looked up at him as he tried to guide you toward the waiting limousine. "Go climb in. I'll grab the bags."

"I can get my own bags," you insisted.

"I know you can, but you have nine hundred of them, and I'm still hungry, and I can do it faster."

"Fine," you replied, and you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked toward the driver who was holding the back door open for you. "Thank you." As you slid across the leather seat, you watched Bradley effortlessly lift multiple pieces of your luggage at the same time while you bit your lip. What the hell was it about him? You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but he was enjoyable to watch. His voice made you feel a little fuzzy. He was raw and genuine like your favorite pair of well worn Levi's which were tucked away in your Dior suitcase he was carrying with one massive hand.

You looked away. You counted to ten. You already knew this was going to be an issue, so you weren't sure why it was hitting you now. When you glanced his way again, he was bringing his own two, nondescript pieces of luggage to the limousine trunk, and then he was sliding across the seat next to you.

"Twenty minutes to the marina from here," he murmured, his hand coming to rest on the seat next to your thigh. "And then we can get to work."

You pursed your lips. "I was under the impression we would be playing, too."

He chuckled as you started to look through the compartments next to the seat. "We can play a little bit."

You opened what turned out to be an ice chest, and ran your fingers along a bottle of chilled Dom Perignon. "We can start with this," you said, pulling it free from the ice and holding it up.

He was looking at you, not the bottle, but that little twitch of his mustache was his tell. Even though his eyes seemed stern, he held out his hand, and asked, "Think we can finish it in twenty minutes?"

You smiled brilliantly as you handed it to him. "Don't ever ask me that again."

"Sassy," he muttered, unwrapping the foil and slowly twisting the cage loose before wiggling the cork free with his big hands until it popped. "Here you go."

"No," you insisted as the driver pulled out onto the main road. "You first. Drink to a successful summer."

Bradley nodded once and took a sip before handing you the bottle. His eyes were on your lips as you pressed them to the bottle where his had just been. "To a successful summer," he echoed, his voice a deep rumble as the city went by in a blur. You couldn't stop smiling, and neither could he, and approximately eighteen minutes later, when he helped you out of the limousine, his cheeks were flushed pink.

"Is that it?" you asked, very slowly removing your hand from his as two men rushed your way in matching gray shorts and navy polos. There was a massive yacht with Down to Business lettered across the back and Avio Technologies along the side.

"That's it," Bradley confirmed, slipping his black sunglasses on as he reached to shake hands with the two men who introduced themselves as Antonio and Nikolai. Bradley told them your name, and they both took your hand in turn. "She's my intern for the summer," he said smoothly, and then they started to unload your luggage.

"Let's go," you said, glancing back at Bradley as you started down toward the marina gate, and then he was right next to you again with a few long strides. "I hope you can find your Armani swim shorts quickly, because that pool is calling my name."

"I can, actually. One of the benefits to only bringing two suitcases." He helped you over the gap, and as soon as you were on the yacht, you felt at home. You knew this was going to be the summer you needed.

"Let's go meet the captain," he murmured, his hand finding your back again.

"Do you think he has more champagne?"

"Ivy... it's nine in the morning."

"I'm still on San Diego time."

Bradley paused for a beat while he did the math. "It's one in the morning back home."

"Exactly," you told him with a little pout that you knew wouldn't actually faze him. He just smiled as he guided you past the pool you couldn't wait to jump into and an enormous jacuzzi. You walked through a dining room that could seat twelve people and past a fully stocked bar. It was like the best offerings from your sorority house and your dad's estate all rolled into one.

"Welcome aboard!" boomed a voice with a French accent. "We've been expecting you. I'm Captain Marcell." He was probably in his sixties with gray hair and a matching beard, and he reminded you a bit of your favorite professor at UPenn.

"Pleasure," you replied, shaking his hand after Bradley told him your name.

Next to him were lined up two friendly looking women, one with short brown hair and one with long brown hair. Beatriz and Lucia, the stewardesses, would be taking care of everything you needed. And next to them was an attractive man wearing a bit of a scowl.

"I'm Rocco. The chef. I can make anything. I don't like changing the menu at the last minute."

Oh, you liked him already as you shook his hand. And then your heart fluttered as Bradley said, "I need to speak with you about removing any cherries from the yacht before we leave the marina."

"Cherries?" Rocco asked, scowling deeper.

Bradley glanced at you as he removed his sunglasses, and his mustache twitched. "Yes. Can't have any onboard. That applies to the kitchen and the bars. My intern has an allergy."

"I'll take care of it," Rocco replied before turning away, and you'd never been more certain that someone would take care of something in your life. Then Captain Marcell handed Bradley a folder.

"Rough itinerary. Weather report for the week. List of phone numbers. Please let me know how long you'd like to spend in each port. I can of course adjust anything as needed. Now if you will select your cabins, Antonio and Nikolai will deliver your luggage."

"Thank you," Bradley replied, handing the folder to you. "You're in charge of this. Now why don't we head down so you can choose a room?" He nodded his head toward a wide set of stairs.

You walked down to the lower deck, and once you and he were alone again, he pointed to the left. "The sooner we get settled, the sooner the swim trunks come out?" you asked softly.

"Something like that." His soft chuckle was right behind you as you stopped at a mint green door with gold trim.

"Is this my room?" you asked, placing your hand on the doorknob. There was a little keypad next to it.

"If you want it to be," he replied. "Or, there are three others you can choose from."

"Which one are you taking?"

His eyes flitted from your face to a spot a little further down the hallway. "White door."

When you turned to investigate, you saw a pink door directly across from that one. "Wouldn't it be easier if my room was near yours?"

"Probably." His expression was neutral, but that damn mustache was giving him away.

"I'll take the pink one."

"Very good. I'll get the room codes from Beatriz, and I'll tell them where to deliver the luggage."

"Great," you replied, still standing close to him, but he didn't move.

"Perfect," he said, brown eyes focused on yours. The hallway was narrow, and now he was placing his hands on his trim hips, taking up even more space. "Try not to get into too much trouble while you look around."

Finally he turned toward the stairs, but you called his name right away. "Bradley?" He glanced back over his shoulder with a questioning look. "Thanks for mentioning the cherries."

"Sure," he replied easily. "I got you, Ivy." Then he was walking back up the stairs and out of sight.

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

We are about to set sail. Let's get into a little trouble. Let's have a little fun. Already feeling a little tension between Bradley and Ivy League. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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ranticore · 7 months

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visored longwing harpies & the hall of faces

I did say there was no exclusive global culture on Siren shared by humans of a certain body type, and I lied, because there is One.

The early settlers on Siren were the unaltered human workforce of a certain megacorporation. While an almost unlimited budget was poured into the dodgy gene programs, since that was why they chose to settle a planet so far out of the reach of The Authorities, everything else was done pretty cheaply, including the settling itself. In order to map out their new home planet, incredibly cheap mass-produced aircraft were used by pilots. These aircraft could be made quickly and easily at the settlement site because they lacked a flight computer or any real sensors - or any equipment at all in the cockpit. Rather than a multitude of different equipment loadouts on an aircraft that would take time and effort to swap out or maintain, the pilots instead used these visors which were universally compatible with the one-size-fits-all aircraft. It's kind of like how it's easier to just carry a phone around with a calculator app than it is to carry a phone and a calculator, even if the phone app calculator experience sucks by comparison.

The visors were the real expensive kit, each custom built to a pilot's exact needs and flight style, and they were built to last. the aircraft fell apart in the following centuries but the visors remained, hyperlight plastic powered by the planet's native star, and something interesting happened. The remains of the first settlement were largely inaccessible to anyone but longwing harpies, and these harpies had the right head shape to fit the visors. Many of the pilots had filled their visors with video and photo files from home, from Earth, like a worker decorating his cubicle with photos of his family. Some had been decorated on the outside, as well, resembling birds. The harpies that found the visors obviously tried to use them. They found themselves experiencing visions of strange worlds, recordings of long-dead pilots and ATC, and found that each visor can interface with every other one, no matter how far apart. Each visor came with its own callsign, its own name, which has remained for thousands of years - and because of this, each visor is considered by the cultures of Siren to be a named character with a distinct personality (eg. the swan visor was cygnus2, it is known now as Signastoo)

I keep posting the map and it needs to be redrawn but essentially every red triangle is an ancient telecomm tower. These became the only remaining waypoints on the visors' HUD and mapping software, meaning that 1. a true global culture could emerge, with longwings gathering at these sites, and 2. visored longwings became the gold standard for navigation on Siren. In a world that is basically just water, that's a big deal.

There exist only a few thousand visors (about 3k I'd say). The unused visors are kept in the Hall of Faces, the ancient aviation bay at the first settlement in West. Because of how water levels and land structures have changed over the years, this building exists on a mesa that rises another few thousand feet out of the water, with sheer sides, and is utterly inaccessible to anyone but a longwing harpy. When a visored harpy dies, the visor is returned here. If you want to claim a visor, you need to hold an interview with one of the elders at the site, who will test you rigorously to see if you can inhabit the character of one of the visors. If not, too bad. If you do get it, it's yours until either you die or you do something considered 'out of character' for the wearer of that particular visor. It is DEEPLY discouraged to steal a visor off anyone because it would be largely impossible, given how they all can communicate (imagine a gigantic worldwide discord server where the location & name of every person is known at all times... the drama is likely insane but at least if someone steals a visor, everyone will know about it)

not every longwing desires a visor because it comes with a lot of responsibility alongside its automatic prestige, and you can't really give it up once you have it. also there's always the possibility of being diagnosed with a super annoying, glitchy, or hated visor character lol. but among the roughly 2700 visored harpies on Siren there does exist a global culture exclusive to them. they chat to one another long-distance, engage in closed-practice ceremonies where they all get high and look at videos of Earth, and essentially become a class outside the mundanity of normal life on Siren. to the rest of the population, they basically become telepathic wizards

Terwyef's visor (first pic) is called Scrappercharlee and is one of the more common models, tho it has been decorated over the years with extra bits. Scrappercharlee is a bit busted and half the HUD is missing. Miakef's visor (second pic) Signastoo is one of the very fancy and well-known ones, it's shaped like a swan's head and likely belonged to a high-ranking pilot who could afford a bit of frippery and showmanship back in the day. Birds do not exist on Siren and harpies are mammals so the swan itself is symbolically meaningless, but the bird-style visors introduce the idea of 'a bird' in the abstract, and this has been imbued with its own form of meaning by harpies.

#setting: siren

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responsivethoughts · 26 days

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The Grumman X-29 Experimental Aircraft

The Grumman X-29 was an experimental aircraft developed by the United States in the 1980s, aimed at testing advanced aviation technologies. One of its most unique features was its forward-swept wings, which improved maneuverability and reduced drag. However, this design introduced significant aerodynamic challenges, such as the tendency of the wings to twist under stress. To address this, the X-29 utilized advanced composite materials, which provided the necessary strength without adding excess weight.

The X-29 was inherently unstable due to its forward-swept wings, necessitating a sophisticated digital fly-by-wire control system. This system allowed a computer to continuously make adjustments to keep the aircraft stable during flight. Additionally, the aircraft featured canard control surfaces, located in front of the main wings, which enhanced control and maneuverability, particularly at high angles of attack.

Another key feature of the X-29 was its variable-geometry engine inlets, designed to optimize airflow into the engine across different flight conditions. This design allowed the aircraft to maintain efficiency at various speeds and altitudes. Together, these innovative design elements made the X-29 a complex and advanced aircraft for its time.

The X-29 first flew on December 14, 1984, under the management of NASA and the United States Air Force. Two X-29 aircraft were constructed, and they accumulated over 400 test flights. These tests focused on exploring the aircraft's unique aerodynamic and flight control characteristics, providing valuable data on how forward-swept wings performed under various conditions.

The primary objective of the X-29 program was to investigate technologies that could be used in future fighter aircraft, with a particular focus on improving maneuverability and control at high angles of attack. Although the X-29 was never intended to enter production, the insights gained from its development contributed to future advancements in aircraft design.

While the X-29 did not see operational service, its legacy is significant. The technologies it explored, including forward-swept wings, composite materials, and digital flight controls, paved the way for innovations in fighter aircraft. Today, the X-29 is remembered as an important milestone in the study of unconventional aircraft designs and aerodynamics.

An interesting and lesser-known fact about the Grumman X-29 is that, despite its radical design, the aircraft reused components from existing fighter jets to save on development costs. Specifically, the fuselage of the X-29 was derived from the Northrop F-5A Freedom Fighter, and its landing gear was taken from the General Dynamics F-16 Fighting Falcon. This blending of cutting-edge technology with proven components from earlier aircraft helped keep the project within a more manageable budget, demonstrating a creative approach to experimental aircraft design during that era.

#responsive thoughts #aircraft #flight #experimental aircraft #x-series #military #jet fighter #x-29 #forward swept wing

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chronicsheepdeprivation · 2 years

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I love airplanes so much but if you try and talk to me about modern military aircraft I'll start biting.

#avgeek #commercial aviation #On the Friendship #They're just more ways to misuse the grossly inflated military budget in my opinion #I don't care if that super sleek craft can break the sound barrier give me my chunky passenger planes

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bekolxeram · 3 months

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7x03 analysis part 1 — Everything Air Ops

I promised helicopters, so now we get helicopters. I want to look into how Air Operations work in the 9-1-1 universe, in comparison to its real life counterpart in this first part. Then, I will try to figure out the location and intensity of "hurricane Ethel" during the clandestine operation in the second part. And finally, I will prove how risky it is to fly a helicopter into a storm and why Tommy deserves every bit of his Medal of Valor.

Location

Real!LAFD Air Ops operate (Station 114) out of Van Nuys Airport (VNY/KVNY). It's not only one the busiest general aviation airports in the world, it's also smack dab in between major green areas of the city of LA itself.

This location makes perfect sense in real life. Air Ops might get the occasional highway car wreck or urban structural fire calls, but most of their missions still consist of wildfire suppression and rural search and rescue. Being based at Van Nuys makes sure they can respond to emergency in a timely fashion.

in the 9-1-1 universe, the LAFD Air Ops are based at "Harbor Station", or Station 217. (Harbor and 217 are the same station, Chimney especially asked if Tommy was still at the 217 in 2x14 when requesting air support, unless the 911-verse LAFD has 2 different air operation units, which I highly doubt.) Obviously it has to be at an airport, because that's where the hangers and helipads are, and going by "harbor" I can only speculate that it's in the Harbor Region of LA.

The only non-military airport in the LA Harbor Region is Long Beach Airport (LGB/KLGB), but it's quite a busy commercial airport, probably not a good one to run emergency services from. There's also the Zamperini Field (TOA/KTOA) nearby in Torrance, although not exactly inside the Harbor Region, it's coastal and close enough to the 2 LA ports I guess? Feel free to create a whole new airport using your imagination though, as you know 9-1-1 is set in an alternate universe where geography and physics work differently.

Helicopters

The LAFD Air Ops have 5 medium (FIRE 1-5) and 2 light duty (FIRE 6/7) helicopters, you've heard Tommy in 7x04. Everything applies to the real world counterpart, but the medium type that real!Air Ops operate is AgustaWestland AW139, the Italian-made medium sized twin-engine helicopter with a 5-blade main rotor primed for emergency response and off-shore oil rig transportation.

It has auto-pilot, an anti-icing system for harsh weather and even auto-hover suitable for hoist rescue missions. In a passenger transport configuration, it can carry up to 15 passengers in a 3 row seating plan. In an SAR (search and rescue) configuration though, the middle row can be removed for gurney space. It's big and powerful enough to transport multiple patients, but at the same time, light and agile enough to get into difficult terrain.

The AW139 is designed to be flown by 2 pilots, flying solo is also possible, but only under VFR (Visual Flight Rules), with an additional certification, which LAFD pilots can and do. To fly it under IFR (Instrument Flight Rules), it always requires 2 pilots according to the FAA last time I checked.

The light helicopter type real!LAFD flies is the Bell 505 Jet Ranger X, a single engine twin-blade made in Canada. It's an relatively new airframe, set to replace the aging Bell 206, which the LAFD used to operate. It's quite a bit smaller than the AW139, it can only fit 1 pilot and 4 passengers.

While it's perfectly capable of carrying a Bambi bucket to assist with aerial firefighting missions, it's mainly used as a training aircraft for new pilots and HLCO (Helicopter Coordinator) when there is a major catastrophe that requires on-the-site air traffic coordination.

These are all brand new and sophisticated aircrafts that a mere TV channel can't get their hands on without a government budget. So for 911!LAFD Air Ops, ABC went to their usual helicopter service company for prop aircrafts.

Helinet Aviation provides all sorts of helicopter services from aerial journalism, medevac, delivery to regular chartering. All the 911!Air Ops scenes in 7x03 and 7x04 are naturally filmed in the Helinet hanger, for convenience's sake, at VNY, just a runway across from real!Air Ops.

911!Air Ops

Helinet hangar Street View

I believe I've identified all the helicopters shown in 7x03 and 7x04, but let's get the 2 in the background which probably do not belong to 911!Air Ops out of the way:

N72EH, a Sikorsky S76C++, still in its Boston MedFlight livery. Sold to Helinet in 2022, possible used as a medevac vehicle currently? Unlikely to have anything to do with 911!Air Ops, probably just happened to be in the background to make it seem like there were many helicopters.

The one Tommy flies Eddit to Vegas in is N67TV, an Eurocopter AS350B2 Écureuil (aka squirrel). No fire department would ever let employees take their expensive equipment out for a joy ride so it's likely that in universe, Tommy rented it from somewhere outside of the station. IRL though, according to this forum post, it's used as a backup helicopter for all its customer news stations, but also any TV or film production purposes outside of journalism.

Now, for the one seen in the hangar, therefore explicitly belonging to 911!LAFD:

N29HD, also an AS350B2, also a news helicopter. According to this reddit comment, it used to be shared between CBS and FOX, but now it seems to be configured as a dedicated aircraft for ABC7.

The one the who cares gang stole to rescue Bobby and Athena though has a fake registration number on it:

You just have to look up Helinet's fleet, and you will see this is obviously a DHL livery, and it's quite easy to find out that this is actually:

N211FN, an AS350B1 (so an even older variant than the previous two), operated on behalf of DHL for package delivery service.

Don't get me wrong, the AStar (how the AS350 is called in the US) is a versatile and reliable aircraft. It the 4th most produced rotorcraft in the world, someone even managed to land one on top of Mount Everest. But it's kind of small? It can seat only up to 5 passengers with 1 pilot, and there is hardly room left for any gear. There is also no space for stretcher, so anyone they rescue would have to sit upright. It's just not very realistic.

I have no idea what medium duty helicopters 911!Air Ops operate, we're unlikely to see them in the future. There is this Bell 205 in 4x12 Treasure Hunt, but it clearly says L.A County Rescue on the tail.

youtube

Pilots

Real!Air Ops pilots wear beige flight suits, it's the aeromedics who wear blue, and helitac crews wear orange. I'm not complaining too much though, Tommy looks good in blue. (I think the chief pilot wears dark blue, but I'm not sure.)

Helicopter pilots in general usually wear helmets, in case a particularly strong pocket of turbulence slams you against the body of the aircraft, or a bird decide to fly through the windshield into your face, but I get that it gets in the way of the camera, so I'm just gonna enjoy Tommy's beautiful face.

Real!Air Ops pilots work on a 24/48 shift schedule just like any platoon firefighters. Due to the danger of pilot fatigue on aviation safety, they do try to limit their continuous flight time to 6 hours before taking a prolong break.

There are 5 levels of pilots: pilot I (trainee), pilot II (probational), pilot III (full pilot), pilot IV (lead pilot) and pilot V (chief pilot). The chief pilot oversees the entire Air Ops and work on a 10 hour per day, 4 days a week schedule. The rest of the pilots are put into 3 shifts, each shift with a pilot IV, 2 pilot IIIs and 2 trainees/probies, together with 4 aeromedics. (Can't find the most updated version, the lastest one I can get my hands on is from 2022, so good enough?) Therefore Tommy's Bobby would not be a captain, it would be a lead pilot.

I've already explained in detail the timeline of Tommy's career as a firefighting pilot, but here is the short version of it: Once accepted into the LAFD pilot training program, he would have to train with the LAPD for 180 hours then back to the LAFD for 200 hours, that takes around 2 years, and by then he would be a probie. After that, he would have to slowly build up flight hours then train and certify for all types of missions on the medium duty helicopter, that would take another 2-3 years, and after that he would be promoted to a pilot III, which is probably the rank he holds now.

We can see from the form Hen submitted in 7x03 that she initially asked for Lucy as their pilot, as she's forgotten that Tommy also worked there. Fortunately Chimney called Tommy, as Lucy most likely would've still been a probie if not just a trainee.

Melton

I have no idea who he is.

I can sort of see his badge says "firefighter"? At real!Air Ops, everyone wears a flight suit as uniform, so that they can hop into a chopper in an emergency. I don't know what a dude in a regular uniform with the regular LAFD patch on his arm doing there.

Tommy's arm has the Air Ops helicopter patch on it.

Real!Station 114 though do have a crash unit staffed with regular firefighters, maybe Melton is with them? But then, why is he doing with Hen's helicopter requisition?

#911 abc #911 on abc #911 show #911 meta #tommy kinard #tagging the ship for fic writing reasons #bucktommy #tevan #kinley

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yellowbunnydreams · 9 months

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(Part 1) ~ William Afton/Steve Raglan x F! Reader

~Hello lovies, I'm aware I'm like....four? Uploads behind schedule, but I have been visited by the idea bunny again and I couldn't not write it now! It would be rude!. This is a slight Mechanised Devotion style, so if you enjoyed that, you may enjoy this too.~

Taglist: @ruh--roh-raggy

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Want more or something different? *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 50's), mention of crimes and violence, blood, mentions of child death (it's FNAF, what did you expect?), past trauma; abusive relationships, stalking, angst

The waiting room for a career counsellor was all too bleak, but you supposed when somebody had reached the point of seeing one, most of the hope from their life had gone and didn't leave much room for colour. But you supposed there was a desperation to your reason too.

After you'd moved half-way across the country to be with a long-distance partner, you'd found yourself in a small, remote town with nobody and nothing, and your boyfriend disappeared with nothing more than a 'sorry, I couldn't wait for you'. You'd spent two days crying in the small apartment you'd rented for the both of you on your limited budget, but now the bills were threatening to catch up with your savings and leave you with not even a roof over your head.

Something about the town was familiar however, although you couldn't place it as you walked around, it was like you'd been there before in some sort of dream a lifetime ago. Though you supposed that everything was relatively easy to find, despite the de-ja-vu you felt constantly plagued by.

You were snapped from your thoughts when your name was called, making you look up from your worn out yellow converse and towards a slightly plump lady who sat behind the reception point. Silvery hair neatly curled and a warm smile on her face as she pointed down the hall as you approached.

"You're seeing Mr. Raglan, down the hall, final left. Good luck sweetie."

"Thank you ma'am." You smiled back at her, making the older woman beam at your manners as you headed off. Adjusting the ill fitting blazer and pencil skirt as you walked, trying to not give off the impression they were from a thrift store solely for the purpose of the interview, despite the fact that was exactly what they were. You'd supposed you never thought about smart clothes when you packed everything.

The hall dragged on forever, but finally you found the door you needed, knocking brightly if nervously.

"Come on in." The deep voice called, surprising you with the brightness to it despite the baritone, nervously writing your hands together as you opened the door and smiled warmly, hoping to make a good first impression.

The man sat at the desk looked up, smiling back at you and stood up to greet you, immediately towering over your smaller frame as he extended a large hand to shake. The rough callouses along his fingers catching you off guard slightly for a man in a yellow and purple pin-stripe shirt and purple tie. The bagginess of his clothes betrayed his frame slightly, as you could tell that whilst perhaps he was a little softer with age, the grip in his hand and the way his forearm twitched told you that he was strong.

"Please, take a seat, I'm just reading the resume you provided for us."

"Thank you sir, it really means a lot that you could fit me in on such short notice." Seeing the man raise a greying eyebrow as he peered through his gold-wire aviators at the manilla folder in his hands, nose scrunched up in concentration slightly.

"It was a little inconvenient, but you seemed like you'll be an easy case. Young lady with a gold-standard work history, fairly educated too from this." He said, gesturing to the folder. You weren't sure on how to feel about the back-handed compliment, whilst you were glad he seemed optimistic about your prospects, it still stung to be called inconvenient. Shuffling in the too small office chair as you waited for him. "So what brought a little thing like you to a place like this?"

"Oh I um.. I would prefer not to disclose it all, but I moved here recently for...Promises." The defeat crept into your voice towards the end, shoulders slumping as the man looked up at you. Missing how his silvery eyes raked over you assessing how you presented yourself. He'd already read the file, but people lied a little too easily when it was on paper, and reading people was all too easy for him.

"Promises? Promises don't provide I'm guessing." He muttered, making your cheeks flush as you nod in agreement, turning a paper over in the folder and humming in thought before he snapped it shut, making you jump slightly as your attention landed back on him. "Coffee?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Would you like some coffee? I've got some brewing." Gesturing to a small coffee pot that you hadn't even noticed in the small office space, pausing before nodding slowly at the prospect.

"Please."

"Now I don't have cream and sugar, I forgot to stock up, you seem like the type who usually has those fancy flavoured things that cost, what...Seven bucks each?" Making you wince again at the back-handed compliment as you chuckled through your nerves, swallowing dryly.

"I mean, I'm flattered that you think I look that rich, Mr. Raglan." Watching his pour the coffees into the mugs beside the pot, the one in his hand looking almost comically small in his large hands as he handed you yours. Muttering your thanks as he stood over you for a second, seemingly lost in thought as you sipped at the drink. Scratching through his salt and pepper beard, the grey concentrated on his chin predominantly, matching his greying hair as you got a chance to look over him a little more.

"Just an observation I've run into with most people your age." Taking his seat again, he opened a different folder and hummed as he thumbed through it quickly, sipping his coffee between pages as you waited nervously for whatever he was about to say. "Welp, it looks like I haven't got much for you."

You sat stunned for a moment, blinking rapidly as you looked at Mr. Raglan and felt your heart begin to pound inside your chest as your stomach sank through the floor. Knuckles turning white as your gripped the coffee cup in your hands tighter, feeling your breathing hitching as Raglan watched you neutrally.

"Y-You're sure? I mean... Nothing?" Feeling that sinking feeling get lower as he simply shrugged his shoulders and offered a sad smile as if condolences were being passed by a stranger at a wake.

"It looks like everything's been assigned and waiting for confirmation of continuation or for somebody to come back here after getting fired." He shrugged, watching your face turn pale as you soaked in the information he'd laid onto you. How your last lifeline had been snapped right in front of your eyes.

"Thank... Thank you for your time then, Mr. Raglan." You breathed eventually, placing the cup on the desk and standing slowly, leaving him sat at his desk and leaning forwards on his elbows, head resting against his hands as he watched you walking towards the door. So mild and complacent with his words.

As you opened the door, he spoke again, giving you a moment to pause.

"If anything comes up, I'll give you a call?"

You nodded, heading back out before the tears took over and made your hot eyes prickle painfully. Taking deep, shaking breaths as you could only hope that something came up right for you for once since you'd moved to the stupid town in the middle of nowhere.

You were eating instant noodles from a folded foil lid-cup when the phone rang, carefully answering it as you put your food down. Heart pounding as you imagined the sound of a rep telling you your water or heat was about to be cut, or worse, your landlord.

"Hello there, have I got the right number for," you heard papers shuffling before your name was said. It took a second for you to register the voice on the other end before you spoke cautiously.

"Yes, this is she. May I ask who's calling?"

"Steve Raglan, from the careers office. I said I'd call if I had any updates for you?" You felt guilty for felling suspicious of the call initially, perking up slightly as the prospect that this was a good phone-call.

"Oh of course! Does this mean you have good news, sir?"

"Well, good is subjective, but I do have news," he began, more shuffling in the background before you heard him having a sip of something, presumably his coffee. "there's a job. Nightshift, security gig. Pay's bad, the hours are worse, but no people to deal with." He quoted to you, making you wince as you thought about how poor the pay potentially was, if it would be enough for what you needed to survive.

"Where is it? And what's the details?" Hearing a small chuckle on the other end as you waited for his reply.

"It's an old restaurant from the eighties and nineties, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza." The name rung a bell somewhere in your mind, although it took it's time coming back to you as to why it was familiar. Steve Raglan continued to talk as you were lost in your own thoughts. "You'll be expected to look after the place and tidy up, make sure nobody breaks in and destroys stuff. The owner's a sentimental guy, but you could start tomorrow night if that works for you?"

"It's perfect. I'll take it." Barely able to get the words out fast enough and feeling your cheeks heating up as you heard the chuckle on the other end of the line. Heart pounding faster as you felt a smile creep onto your own face.

"Great, just collect the keys from the reception and we'll have a catch up in a week to review how you're doing. Of course, you can always call if there are any issues." The click of the phone being hung up settled the matter with some finality, but left you with something dangerous in it's wake.

Hope.

Looking down at your clothes and realising you were still in your pyjamas, you decided to take the day to unpack a little more and prepare for your new job the next evening. A little excitement for a job and a potentially stable source of income, as well as a small part of you wondering if you would have that same sense of familiarity about everything when you arrived at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

As you stood in front of the old building with the dilapidated neon sign, skeletons of old ivy clinging to the outside of the building telling you that nobody had really taken care of the building for a long time. The smiling bear on top of the building only built the nostalgia in your stomach, forcing you to take a deep breath before you walked towards the front doors and allowed yourself inside the belly of the beast.

The archway with the word 'Welcome' printed neatly above it was what first tickled the sense that you'd been there before. Blinking as each step became measured as controlled, trying to get ahold of your senses, but your body seemed to have a mind of its own as you ran forwards into the darkness, clicking on a flashlight that had been provided for you and staring at the inside with a sense of awe.

Though the colours were muted in the low light, nostalgia hit you like a train and threatened to take your breath with it as suddenly memories of children screaming in the same area came through. Screaming as they ran to play on the arcade machines, games of tag and arts and crafts going on in the remote corners. The now dusty prize-counter that had always been crowded with kids and grown-ups alike trying to pick prizes.

The animatronics. You remembered them too. Heart pounding loudly in your ears as you made your way to the stage, pulling back the curtain and gasping loudly in surprise to see the worn and well kept fur of a purple bunny first, then a brown bear and finally, a yellow chicken holding a cupcake. A wide smile split your features as you recalled everything suddenly, a wave of long forgotten, fond memories that you weren't sure why you'd left them behind until now.

Cautiously, you waved to the inanimate objects, whispering as if somebody might hear you despite being alone.

"Hi Bonnie, hi Freddy, hi Chica. Is Foxy still around too? I can't believe you guys are still here!" Excitedly whispering as you gave them a final wave and allowed the heavy red velvet to fall back into place before you spotted the purple starred material around a smaller stage set to one side, eagerly jogging over and waving to Foxy behind it. Though you had less memories of him, you knew that he hadn't been your favourite growing up, but still wanted to say hello. You felt childish, like you'd been transported back to your childhood as you wandered the halls in search of the security office.

Once you'd found it, throwing on the breaker was easy, hearing the sound of things warming up and sputtering to life in the main hall as you settled yourself down in the office chair, ready for a long night of watching what appeared to be an ancient, grainy camera system that was probably installed when the building was originally constructed.

You weren't sure how long it had been before you heard something moving. Curiously peeking your head out of the door and staring into the now partly lit dining room, eyes narrowing suspiciously as you tried to reason with yourself that it was possible just old creaks from the concrete of the building. Turning back to the cameras, your stomach sank through the floor as you realised that Bonnie was gone from his spot on stage. Swearing profusely as you grabbed your flashlight and headed out into the dining room with a sense of urgency, hoping that he wasn't being taken apart by metal scrappers.

Now the room was full of light once more, you could really see the memories that had come back. Bright lights and kids, the arcade cabinets bleeping and blaring when somebody had hit the jackpot for the machine. Employees in confetti print tops and red vests that would run around the place with a sense of urgency.

You were a Freddy's kid.

"Hello? Anybody there?" You called, quickly moving to check the stage and wondering how you hadn't heard or seen somebody moving a several hundred pound animatronic, or at least, you had presumed somebody must have moved him. Did you hallucinate that he'd been there?

Just as you turned around to check other places, you bumped into something heavy and soft at the same time. Gasping as you blinked and took a step back, trying to make sense of what was happening as you realised that you were looking at pale purple fur. Blinking more as you looked up, finding the soft curves of a purple bunny face staring back at you with dead eyes. Head tilted to one side curiously as it stared at you.

"Bonnie! How- You- But that's not-" You kept cutting yourself off with your train of thought as your mind moved at a million miles an hour, looking back at the stage and the animatronic, trying to figure out how it had moved. And so silently at that. "Did you get stiff joints? I would too if I stood up for so long too." Laughing as you realised you were talking to a machine, but it simply felt right as the animatronic cocked his head the other way.

The whirr and hum of other things moving caught your attention and you turned to spot the other three animatronics moving, a careful shuffling step and a head tilt as they regarded you. Ears and eyebrows moving as if testing the motor functions still as they woke up. You guessed it was the animatronic equivalent of a stretch as you found yourself grinning widely that these things were still functional after all these years.

Some faint, half-remembered dream of being a young girl and wishing you could have sleep-overs with the animatronics came to you, and you squealed in delight. Freddy's eyebrows shooting up in what you interpretted as a confused expression.

"You guys can move! Oh my god, this is amazing! Can you communicate? Do you move every night? Oh! I need to introduce myself, I've been here before, but you probably don't remember me." Offering the mascots your name as they stared intently, seeming almost like they were thinking of something before they slowly began to move again. Heading off into different parts of the resturant and leaving you alone in the dining room once more.

"Oh of course, gotta stretch those legs! Well, you can stop by my office when you like! The door's always open!" Laughing as Foxy seemed to give you an acknowledging nod, heading back to the office filled with glee that such important things to you still existed, although, you felt a little sad that there wasn't something else there. You weren't sure what, but you were sure it would come back to you eventually.

Settling into the seat back in the office, you were unaware that you were being watched. The man behind the cameras cursed that they weren't equipped for audio, so he couldn't make out what you'd said, but he was curious as to why the children had simply acknowledged you. They'd been so good at taking out the nightguards usually, although the last one had been rather witty to say the least.

His curiousity piqued, he decided to observe some more before he made a move. Wondering what the smiling face on the camera was thinking about as you seemed to regard everything around you with a child-like wonder.

Perhaps it was time for the yellow rabbit to make an appearance once again and teach his children compliance once more.

#william afton #springtrap #steve raglan #william afton x reader #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #springtrap x reader #william afton x you #william afton smut #fnaf x reader

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disturbedbeautywrites · 1 year

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New Beginnings - Jake Seresin and Bradley Bradshaw x Roomie! Reader

A/N: So this is based off a request I got, it was really fun to write! This is the first imagine I've written in a hot minute, hope you guys like it

Warnings: Peanut allergy, mentions of allergic reaction, mentions of stalkers, mentions of domestic violence, and tooth rotting platonic bradley and jake

Moving to a new place is supposed to be an adventure. It's supposed to be filled with new opportunity. It is a time to create a new you and it gives you a fresh start. New place, new you.

You tried to keep that optimistic point of view as you attempted to find a place to live. However, almost everything was too expensive for your budget. California was a lot more expensive then where you used to live and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Bradshaw, I am telling you that we are never going to find another roommate." You heard a gruff voice exclaim in exasperation from across the room. You were currently sat in a coffee shop across from the navy base in Miramar, your laptop open and scrolling through house and apartment listings. "Hangman, you just gotta have some faith." The brunette man that was sitting across from the other one finally spoke up, his tone more easy going and laid back.

You watched the two men for a few minutes before you decided to approach, your eyes scanning over them. You cleared your throat as you stood by their table, their eyes landing on you. "I heard you guys are looking for a roommate." Your voice was quiet and you were realizing that you were setting yourself up to be murdered, but you were desperate. "I'm also looking for someone to live with." You could feel their eyes running over you, the blonde man shaking his head immediately. "Absolutely not. No." However, you saw the man he had referred to as Bradshaw start to smirk. He looked at you with eyes full of mischief, deciding to piss off his friend. "Have you ever been convicted of a felony?" The answer threw you off and you looked at him with confusion in your eyes, but you slowly shook your head. "No, I haven't."

The man immediately clapped his hands together, a wide smile on his face. "Well, then it looks like you have yourself a new place to live. I'm Bradley and this is Jake, we're going to be your new roommates." You were shocked at where the conversation had gone, your mouth agape as Bradley handed you a card with an address on it. "This is where we live, come check it out and see what you think." You took the card and nodded, deciding to follow along after them.

The tension between the two was palpable as you walked into the house the two of them shared. It was nice, a lot nicer than what you were expecting. It was decently sized and clean, naval awards and pictures of the two men you had met lining the walls. It was astounding, really, to see all of the things the two had accomplished at such young ages.

"There is no way this is going to work out." Jake's voice could be heard from the kitchen as you looked around, your head hanging a bit as you tried to listen to the reply that came. "Come on, she needs a place to stay and we need the help with rent. Just trust me for once, damnit." Bradley's voice was the next to ring out as you walked towards the room that they said would be yours, eyes scanning the room as you got decorating ideas immediately. "Just try to be civil, please." As you heard a disgruntled fine mumbled from Jake, you decided to walk into the kitchen. Two pairs of eyes met yours as Bradley raised his eye brow at you expectedly. "I'll move in." You were met with a hug from Bradley after you agreed, laughter leaving your lips as you set up plans for moving your stuff in.

The two men helped you get your stuff into their house, Bradley more enthusiastic than Jake, as was to be expected. The blonde aviator was convinced you were not going to fit in. You were going to ruin the vibe of the entire place. You were going to gripe about every little thing and you were going to ruin the man cave. You tried to win him over, offering to cook, or help him around the house when he was cleaning. However, he would always turn you down. You tried to not let it get to you.

But, that was easier said then done. "Why don't you like me?" The words left your lips as you walked into the living room, seeing Hangman immediately turn off the TV and get ready to head back to his room. "You just don't fit in." His words seemed to make so much sense to him, his cockiness spilling through into his words as he leaned against the doorframe to his room. "And sweetheart, I don't think you ever will."

You narrowed your eyes at him and nodded once, biting the inside of your cheek as you debated on how to respond. You were not one for confrontation, at all. But, this was getting ridiculous. "You haven't even given me a chance." Your words were small and timid as you shot Jake one look before walking into your room, your door shutting behind you. You didn't have to put up with Jake being rude and you were tired of getting your feelings hurt because of what he said.

As the weeks went by and you were getting settled, you figured that Jake would start to warm up to you. However, that did not seem to be the case and he kept giving you the cold shoulder. Bradley told you that you just needed to give him time and he also said that Jake was just an asshole, it's just how his personality was.

For every bad interaction with Hangman, there was an opposite and nice reaction with Bradley. The two of you were slowly becoming really good friends and were making movie nights and dinners a nightly occurrence that Hangman was left out of. He was getting sick of it. So, he decided to try and make things right by making you cookies.

As you walked into the kitchen, you could smell the cookies that had just come out of the oven. You noticed Jake standing over them, taking a bite of one before offering the plate to you. You gladly took one, eyeing it suspiciously before you heard him huff. "They're not poisoned, I swear." You took a bite and made an approving sound, immediately tasting the chocolate chips inside of it. "They're peanut butter chocolate chip, my moms secret recipe." At the words he said, your eyes widened. Fuck.

"Hospital. Now." Those were the only two words that could leave your lips as you felt your skin start to itch. The inevitable red hives were already making their way down your arms and your legs, causing a whimper to leave your lips. Jake's eyes were wide and panicked as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Bradley! Get in here now!" His words were desperate as he walked over to you, hearing your breathing coming out in panicked pants. "What the hell is happening?" Bradley's voice rang out as he walked out of his room, headset on and an xbox controller in his hands, "I was just about to clutch my damn match.." His voice trailed off as he looked at you, the controller soon falling out of his hands. "What the hell."

You looked at the two boys, panic in your eyes as you pointed down to the purple bracelet on your wrist that had the words peanut allergy written on it. All the color drained from Jake's face as he looked at Bradley and they both helped you out to the car. "Jake, you drive and fast." Bradley held you close in the backseat, trying to keep you calm. You were terrified, having no epi pen because you had used your last one a while ago and hadn't had time to go get another one. "You're going to be okay.." That was the last thing you heard before blacking out in the back of the bronco.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital and you had an IV taped into your arm. You were groggy from the medicine that they had given you, the room slowly coming into focus as you noticed Jake sitting next to your bed. His head was down and he looked absolutely wrecked, guilt written all over his face. "What happened?" The shakiness of your voice absolutely killed him, a frown on his lips. His hair was extremely unruly, telling you he had been combing his fingers through it relentlessly. "I uh, didn't know you were allergic to peanuts." He refused to look at you, hands shaking as he tried to wring them out. "Hey-" You started before a nurse walked in, interrupting your conversation. She apologized before starting off on what your treatment plan currently was. "Oh, and we called Jason, your emergency contact. He was so happy to hear you're okay." The color drained from your face as you heard those words, your blood running absolutely cold. "Y-you told him where I am?" Your words barely left your mouth as she grinned at you and nodded, your eyes darting around the room. No, this couldn't get any worse.

Jake was noticing your reaction, confusing clouding his vision. Who was Jason? You had been living with them for a few weeks now and you never mentioned a guy before or brought anyone home. But, he did remember some nights he heard you up crying. He wasn't trying to pry, but sharing a wall with someone means you hear a lot of what happens on the other side. Maybe, this Jason person was just an ex or someone. Or maybe even a parent, Jake didn't know. But, he did know you looked absolutely terrified. "Hey, our girl is awake!" Bradley's voice boomed into the room, ignoring the traumatized look on your face. However, he suddenly went quiet when he read the room and saw you trying to curl into yourself.

"He can't know where I am." The words left your lips and you could feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. "He just can't. I have to go, now." You started to try and mess with the IV in your arm, Jake's hand covering yours. "Sweetheart, what is going on?" The name he usually used to tease you was now laced with concern, his blue eyes meeting yours as you let out a shaky breath. "Just please get me out of here, that or make sure I can't have any visitors other than you guys." Your voice was pleading as the blonde haired boy nodded, him and Bradley going to talk to your nurse. They weren't sure what was going on, but they could tell that you needed them to do this for you.

After the two of them left, they came back to you full on sobbing. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to be free. Both the boys looked super concerned as they took in your shaking form, each of them carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. "H-he's going to hurt me." The words were desperate and full of fear as you felt Jake wrap his arms around you, pulling you into his side. His embrace was surprisingly warm and inviting and was a stark contrast to the cold exterior you were used too from him.

His cologne engulfed you as you sobbed into his shoulder, feeling his hand run up and down your spine. "Who is he?" His voice was soft as he tried to will you to open up to him, knowing he was the reason you were in this situation. He had to try and get you out of it. "H-he's my ex boyfriend. But, I have a restraining order out against him.." Your voice was shaky and broken, it betraying you as you tried to not sound as fragile as you felt. You felt so exposed. You knew you weren't safe anymore. You had two badass navy pilots beside you and you felt unsafe. It was a complicated feeling.

"He has been stalking me for months. I finally thought I got away from him." Your voice was so fragile that it broke Jake's heart, his eyes softening as he reached down to wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. "He's not getting anywhere near you, trust us." His words were reassuring as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his care finally showing through as Bradley made the same promise.

They were not going to let him get to you. As you sat there in the hospital bed, you kept telling them about all the bad things you were running from. About all the abuse, all the hurt. All the yelling, all the fights. It was enough to make Hangman want to kill this guy if he showed up anywhere near the hospital. You don't hurt women, he was taught that at a very young age. But, apparently not everyone knew that simple rule.

As you sat in the hospital, the two boys took turns watching over you. If one had to go to the cafeteria, or somewhere similar, the other made sure to be there for you. It was nice, having someone there to watch over you. The two even pitched in together to get you a bear and some flowers from the gift shop; insisting that they had to do it. That's how they were raised.

They did everything for you, acting as if you were the most fragile person they had ever met. It got even worse once it was time for you to get discharged. They would not let you carry anything. Hell, they even had a hard time letting you walk out to the car. You had given them a major scare and they never wanted to go through that again, because A205 needs to stay alive. Or, that's the cool slogan Jake tried to come up with. You and Bradley went along with it to make him happy, but you secretly laughed about it behind his back.

You had found a family in two unlikely naval boys and you wouldn't change a single thing about it. They were your protectors, best friends, and most of all, the best roommates you could ask for.

#bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick one shot #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick imagine #jake hangman imagines #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #jake seresin angst #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick x reader #jake seresin x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 year

Text

Fic idea I'll probably never write:

Actor Bradley + still naval aviator Jake AU

Bradley was a theater kid and he was a really good theatre kid - his last high school won a national award for a musical he had the main male role and a play he's the main character and his theater club teacher encouraged him to send audition tape for acting schools. He does, just to get her off his back and he gets further auditions for Juilliard and Tisch, somehow.

Mav, who is trying very hard to change Bradley's plans to join the Navy by encouraging him to apply to as many colleges as he can, tells him to go, just in case he likes it. He gets a spot in Juilliard around the same time he finds out Mav pulled his papers from USNA. It's supposed to be just something to fill the time until he can join NOCS when he gets his degree, he doesn't actually think he'll be an actor full time, he just wants to be as far away from Mav and Ice as he can.

Things happen fast - he has his first Broadway role before he graduates. Within the next few years, he stars in an extremely popular TV show in one of the main male roles, he's got a side role in a box office breaking movie, and then he gets cast as the main character for a series of action movies (ala MI or FaF). He's one of those actors that does dangerous stunts himself and who is called a madman by most of his co-stars and gets a reputation as the crazy but absolutely the funniest and kindest guy ever who stars in way too many productions every year. Fans know him as the guy who engages in charity work, donates and promotes charities for orphans, veterans and minorities and as the guy that goes to random bars and sings musical numbers on untuned pianos. His main revenue are the popular action movies but he stars in more traditionally demanding roles for the challenge (dramas, tragedies, thrillers) and romantic comedies and musicals for funnsies and in indie movies way under his budget for the sake of artistic creation.

(Mav and Ice watched every single production he had been in, a few unavailable Broadway productions aside. Most of them, they have on DVDs.)

He had a lot of luck because his breaking side role was directed by one guy and that guy loved him and pushed him into many of his movies later and then the same happened with another two directors.

His career hits a tough point when his sexuality comes out (unwillingly). There are rumors and a lot of people who were fans of his action movies come around and talk shit about him and he decides to take a break from acting for a bit.

He's a year into the break when his friendly director calls and says he's got a military action movie for him. A movie about naval aviators, about fighter pilots. To be filmed raw, in real planes, in real flight, with real pilots.

Bradley says no straight away. But then his friend is like, I know you've got a pilot licence already and you fly planes for fun, don't you want to share the fun with the rest of the cast, don't you want to fly a fighter jet?

Bradley has always wanted to fly a fighter jet, that's what hurts most about it all, so he agrees.

He hasn't talked to Mav or Ice for over fifteen years when he finds out that the Dagger Squadron the cast got their assigned pilots from is led by Pete Maverick Mitchell and said Pete Maverick Mitchell is going to be performing the most demanding jet stunts needed for the movie.

Bradley's assigned pilot for the rest of the film is a very reluctant Jake Hangman Seresin.

Hangman doesn't watch movies and definitely not action movies. He's a romantic comedy kinda guy because his life is an action movie with ad breaks for paper work and training. So he doesn't know Bradley and like hell he's going to be flying for some hollier than thou actor - he's going to put him in his place and make him puke as many times as possible the minute he sits in his backseat.

It doesn't work. Bradshaw doesn't puke once. He's almost impressed.

He's definitely impressed when Bradshaw stops by the Hard Deck, looking absolutely not like someone who earns millions every year, wearing an old Hawaiian shirt, an old pair of jeans, sunglasses and a worn out Casio watch, and Nikes that have seen better days and sits down at the piano with Jake's squad and bursts out songs after songs, sounding like a freaking angel. He has to leave when people start asking about autographs from left and right.

Maybe Bradshaw is hot, whatever. He still doesn't think he's a big deal, he's probably a mediocre actor at best, some pretty boy with rich parents that could send him to acting school and who probably grew up with money that could buy him a career.

They have problems working together, obviously, and Bradley is like, fuck that, and tells him the address of a private airport and tells him to show up at four.

Jake thinks he's going to make him fly a small private plane for the sake of bonding but instead Bradshaw packs into the passenger seat of a new piston sport plane and starts it off. Doesn't explain anything, just takes Jake up in the sky, ignores his chatter until they're in the air space where he can do some funny bits and maneuvers.

At some point, the plane tells him Bradshaw is pulling 6 Gs.

In the end, Bradshaw tells him, "I don't care what you think of me, I just want you to fly the goddamn plane like I'd."

And okay, maybe Hangman starts finding him a bit hot.

He googles him. And watches some of his movies. And his rom coms and his musicals and he reads and reads and maybe Bradshaw isn't that bad.

They start to talk between film takes and then he takes Bradshaw to relax to a taco stand where he won't be recognised. Then to an ice cream place, and bowling, and surfing, and then again and again, until finally, Bradley lands at Jake's house.

In Jake's bed.

Everything would be absolutely fine but not even a few days later not only tabloids find out all about Bradshaw's gay navy romance - his sexual orientation being a topic Bradley's been avoiding as much as he could in the past year - but also about all the things he's told Jake during their dates, like about Goose and about his (unnamed) Navy gay parents and about how tough it was for him in college and then how tough it was being in the closet while in the industry.

Obviously, Bradley thinks the worst about Jake and how all that info surfaced.

(this gets somehow resolved but I didn't think that far - they get together and Bradley reconciles with Mav and Ice and they have an awkward meet the parents moment when Hangman finds out)

#hangster #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #sorry brain rot moment needed to be articulated or else #fic ideas #op #charlie writes

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