#bradshaw baddie

[thedroneranger]

Call You Mine

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: It's hard to get over Bradley Bradshaw. And who can blame you? Love makes us crazy. If it doesn't, are you doing it right?

Note: Excited to finally post this! Life made this one take a little longer. This is one of two entries for @cherrycola27’s #top gun taylors version challenge! Congratulations, on the milestone, babe—I'm sure we'll be celebrating another soon! This fic is inspired by a T. Swift favorite of mine, Don't Blame Me. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit: stalking, violence, attempted murder, masturbation.

Word count: 3.5k

What did he see in her? 

It wasn’t the first time that thought had crossed your mind, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

Her hair was down, and her outfit casual—light-colored jeans with a loose-fitting t-shirt front tucked. Sunglasses shading her eyes, she sipped coffee and scrolled her phone while she waited for him. After what seemed like an eternity, he joined her. 

Through narrowed eyes, you watched as she stood to greet him and they embraced. She threw her arms around his neck, getting on her tiptoes, while his arms slung low on her waist.

You and Natasha met a handful of times. Bradley insisted he and Nat were friends and nothing more. Of course, you didn’t believe Bradley for a second. Every touch, every hug, every late night phone call said otherwise. 

They were so natural together. Like birds singing as the morning sun rose or crickets crooning in the twilight. 

No wonder Bradley thought it couldn’t work with you. How could he when there was five-foot-seven worth of gorgeous grin and glowing skin staring at him over a coffee cup?

She had to go.

Sinking lower in the driver’s seat of your vehicle, you watched as they got up together. After disposing of their cups, Bradley walked Natasha to her SUV, which you knew was parked around the corner. As they disappeared, you punched the ignition button and pulled out of your curbside spot across the street.

“Catch you later tonight?” Natasha asked as she slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Absolutely.” Bradley rasped, holding the door open. They grinned at each other as he closed it. As she pulled away, and they exchanged waves through the window. 

Bradley waited on the street, hands in his jean pockets and watched until her tail lights illuminated at a stop sign before she drove through the intersection. Then, he walked a few spaces up to his Bronco and hopped in. 

This morning, when you tailed Natasha, her day was rather uneventful. You waited until you spotted her sleek SUV rolling out of the private garage of her condo building. Shifting into drive, you followed as she first stopped at the post office. Once she came back out, Natasha took a call while she sat in the vehicle, shuffling around, looking for something she eventually found. 

Next, she stopped for gas and went inside to get a shitty gas station latte. Seemed to be a routine indulgence for her. After that, she spent what seemed like an eternity in the grocery store. Once all her groceries were loaded into her vehicle, Natasha headed back to her condo that was tucked in a mid-sized building on the downtown main drag.

You’d found the building plans in the public records and knew which unit was hers. Although the building wasn’t that large, it was well-secured. In contrast, Bradley’s bungalow had a much lower security threshold. Plus, you were familiar with the layout. 

Since you’d followed Natasha this morning, and would bet your next month’s salary that she and Bradley were meeting at the Hard Deck tonight, you decided to see what Bradley was up to this afternoon.

Leisurely, you drove to Bradley’s, taking an elongated route. As you turned onto Bradley’s street, you killed the music, glided by his house, confirmed his Bronco was parked in the driveway and continued on to the street parallel to his. You parked in the spot that gave you the perfect view of his backyard and into his house through a couple curtainless windows. 

There he was. Shirtless. Floating around, bopping his head to the music surely streaming through the living room sound system. Watching through your camera lens, you snapped a few images. 

As you captured photos, you recalled the couple times you’d witness him and Natasha twirling around, dancing. Faces lit with laughter as he spun her around, and then dipped her for the finale. 

Bradley never did that with you.

The burn of jealousy you felt quickly washed away as your lens zeroed in on Bradley’s broad back. Your thoughts drifted to touching Bradley—every dimple, every tendon, every scar. 

Of course, the few months you and Bradley spent together weren’t sexless. For you, it was some of the best sex of your life, and Bradley seemed to have no complaints. A matter of fact, each moan or toe curl you were able to pull from Bradley seemed like a badge of honor.

Thinking about Bradley laying underneath you as your hand steadied yourself on his sculpted chest had you sighing deeply. You could practically feel his hip bones cradling your thighs as you rode him and his hands curving around your hips.

The memory of his thumb drawing tight circles on your clit had you sinking into your seat, squeezing your eyes closed and heat gathering in your lap. Replays of your sexcapades continued to flood your mind, filling your dam. You needed a release. Soon, your jeans were unzipped and your legs as wide as the car seat would allow.

Your lip disappeared between your teeth as you slipped your middle and ring fingers into yourself, slicking them to then paint your swollen clit so you could attempt to recreate even a fraction of the pleasure Bradley had given you several times over. 

Envisioning Bradley’s large hand palming your chest, and then sliding up to cover your throat, had you gripping the door handle with your free hand as your pace quickened. The heat in your belly was building to boil, the pot lid close to skittering off.

Bradley’s face as he finished—the furrow of his brow, twitch of his mustache—flashed through your mind and pushed you across the finish line. A sigh only for you left your lips as you let your release wash over you, dissipating the tension. Pulling yourself back together, you continued watching Bradley through the back windows. 

On his days off, he always hit the gym late in the afternoon. You attributed it to keeping his daily shower count to one. Because, undoubtedly, Bradley would come home post-workout to get ready for the Hard Deck. 

While Bradley was at the gym, you were going to the hair appointment you’d scheduled a few weeks ago. A smile pulled your lips as you perfectly parallel parked across the street from the salon. Marc, your stylist, was there to greet you with open arms and an Americano.

Like all trusted stylists, Marc knew all about your life, including Bradley. He knew all about Bradley’s longtime friend who had had her chance to shoot her shot with him. However, she hesitated too long, and now you were in the picture. But that didn’t stop her from crossing boundaries even though you asked her to stop. 

Tonight, you were going to end it once and for all.

After an afternoon in Marc’s hands, you were practically a new person. A cute sundress would compliment your makeover perfectly. Back home, you twirled in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, deciding which dress was best. Eventually, you decided on the knee-length one with flutter sleeves and a deep V-neck. 

Tonight was a night that your inability to be anywhere in a timely fashion paid off. By the time you reached the Hard Deck, the parking lot was fairly full, allowing you to park toward the back of the lot undetected. With one final look in the rearview mirror, you slid out of the driver’s seat and headed for the front door. 

Bradley’s Bronco was unmistakable, proudly parked as close to the entrance as possible. A few spaces down was Natasha’s luxury SUV.

The bar was crowded, so you easily disappeared into the sea of civilians and servicepeople. Head on a swivel, still waiting for Natasha or Bradley in your peripheral, you causally wound through the crowd, venturing around the venue. 

There he was. The floral print Aloha shirt wrapping his broad shoulders gave him away. Natasha stood tucked into his side, his arm draped over her shoulders. You recognized many of the faces they were laughing with from photos. 

With them in your sight, you headed to the bar to find a spot with a view but that also kept you in the crowd. The woman behind the bar didn’t recognize you as you ordered. One of the few times you’d been here with Bradley, he had introduced you to the bartender, who also owned the establishment. 

Drink in hand, you slipped into a seat that had conveniently opened up. Bradley and Natasha bantered with each other, with their friends and shittalked while facing each other in a game of pool. 

“Hey.” The greeting bore a hint of southern drawl. You turned to see one of their friends, the good looking blond, dragging his gaze over you. You coolly returned his greeting and took a sip of your drink. 

The man had no clue who you were. Not that you could blame him. He’d met you once and had seen you maybe two or three times total. Plus, with your drastic cut and color, you might as well be a complete stranger. 

He made small talk while he waited for a fresh round of drinks. As he departed, he invited you to stop by the group. Upon his departure, you gave him an open-ended response and a wink. 

It amazed you how few boundaries Bradley and Natasha had with each other. As the night wore on, you watched each touch grow more intimate. At one point, Bradley had his arm wrapped around Natasha’s hips with his hand in her front pocket. It was a move he had put on you while you two walked to keep you close. 

You watched as each drink made them a little looser, a little flirtier. At one point, you watched Natasha play wingman for every man in their group—except Bradley. 

At last call, the crowd began to thin. You finished your drink, cashed out and slunk to your vehicle. Hand on the door and a glance over your shoulder, you slipped into the backseat. Sitting behind the passenger seat gave you a better view of the building. To the unassuming eye, your vehicle was one of several destined to spend the night in the lot.

Before Bradley and Natasha spilled out of the Hard Deck, you watched the blond from earlier climb into a black F-150 Raptor. You were surprised to see him alone. Must be all talk. A few more familiar faces filtered out. 

Finally, they shuffled out with another friend. The friend you were convinced was pining for Natasha but was too shy to do anything about it. He and Bradley chatted while Natasha clung to Bradley’s side. She clearly was not driving tonight. They parted ways, the shy friend going to his vehicle, and Bradley putting Natasha in the passenger seat of the Bronco before getting in. 

First, Shy Friend eased out of the parking lot. Then, Bradley backed out and headed for the exit. A smile pulled your lips as he turned left, signaling he was taking her home with him.

This time you drove straight to the spot on the street parallel to Bradley’s that had the perfect sightline into his house. From there, you watched as he carried Natasha through the hall, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. Eventually, the lights died and a stillness fell upon the house.

Quiet as possible, you slipped out of your vehicle. As you walked, you slipped on leather gloves you’d had for ages but never had a reason to wear. Knowing the family living in the house directly behind Bradley’s was away on vacation, you took the most direct route to his house. Under the cover of the thick trees and sparse streetlights, you snuck down their side yard and into the back. 

You easily scaled the standard chain-link fence that conjoined their yards. Thankfully, Bradley kept his yard tidy. Looking at his grill and the outdoor dining set made you think of the few times he’d grilled for you. Surely Natasha was reaping that benefit tenfold now. 

Standing in front of his backdoor, you gingerly grasped the handle and twisted the knob. It gave you zero resistance as the door floated open. Bradley would absolutely be locking his back door after this. Making sure the hinges didn’t  betray you, you took your time stepping across the threshold and closing yourself in. 

Enveloped in a new level of darkness, you stood for a minute, allowing your eyes to adjust. Slowly, you began to see the familiar lines of the counter and the silhouettes of appliances. 

You wanted to touch everything but knew to touch nothing. Your ears were on alert, listening for the slightest disturbance. So far, the only thing you could hear was Bradley’s deep breathing that, arguably, was a light snore. However, it didn’t sound like it was coming from his room.

Curiosity piqued, you glided toward the living room. Bingo. Splayed on the oversized, for his comfort, couch was Bradley. He was in a deep slumber. You admired him. Lips barely open, but enough to produce his audible breathing. Curls mussed and resting on his bulging bicep that acted as an extra pillow. The man ran hot, so the blanket he started his slumber with was now tangled at his feet, leaving his form clad only in drawstring gym shorts. 

As you watched him, the streetlight in front of his house gave the living room a bit more light, his chest rose and fell. Your mind wandered to why he was on the couch and not in his bed with Natasha. You didn’t think too hard about it, though. It made your task easier.

Releasing you had your fists balled at your sides, you unclenched them as you turned to head for the bedroom. The door was ajar, just the slightest. Using the back of two gloved fingers, you slowly pushed it open. 

Natasha was nestled under the fluffy bedding in the center of Bradley’s huge bed, sleeping soundly. Your eyes stayed glued to her as you crept into the room and put the door back the way you found it. Staying to the edge of the room, you calculated your plan of attack. Watching her sleep with a neutral expression, seemingly relaxed, you thought you might be beginning to understand why Bradley was so taken with her.

Gaze never leaving Natasha, you approached the edge of the bed. She didn’t stir. Removing a glove, you gingerly leaned onto the bed, knee first. Eyes still glued to Natasha for any sign of movement. Eventually, you were leaning over her, face-to-face, really studying her. 

Unable to help yourself, you ran your thumb along her full bottom lip. She was soft, angelic—maybe that’s why Bradley liked her so much. Your face was so close to hers—you really wanted to know what her lips would feel like against yours. Add evidence to the case for why Bradley liked her so much.

While you thought about Natasha’s lips, keeping your gaze on your face, you managed to mount her without disturbance. The amount of down bedding between the two of you was a huge aide in minimizing the movement ripples.

You looked at her one last time as you took one of the pillows her head wasn’t resting on and held it in front of your chest. “Sweet dreams,” you said barely above a whisper as you leaned forward to cover her face with it. 

Your grip was light until you felt her tensing. She was waking, trying to free her arms that were bracketed by your legs and trapped underneath the blankets. Her screams were muffled. “Shh, I’ll take great care of him.” Your closed eyes as you hugged her head with the pillow. Natasha was fighting less and less. 

“What the fuck?!” you heard from behind you. At the same time, you heard the door bang against the wall. You looked over your shoulder to see Bradley charging toward you. Before you could move, his hand was around your neck, ripping you off the bed. Natasha scrambled to the edge of the bed furthest away from you. Bradley was there, arms open, waiting to embrace her. 

Sheer size allowed him to throw you against the dresser a few feet away from the bed. You heard a thud and felt a sharp pain in the back of your head as you hit the heirloom dresser. Your eyes were having a hard time focusing as you slid to the floor. Involuntarily, your hand moved to the back of your head where the pain seared most. As your hand re-entered your field of vision, you could see your blood on your fingertips.

Bradley’s voice sounded distant. Question in his voice as he said your name. However, you looked up to see him kneeling in front of you. Your vision was slightly blurry. “You’ve gone too far this time.” Of course, Bradley still recognized you—some hair dye and a drastic cut wouldn’t fade your face from his memory. 

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice pulled you out of your mind and back into the room.

Natasha bound into the doorway, wearing one of Bradley’s t-shirts. He must’ve dressed her before he put her to bed. They exchanged looks before her gaze dropped to you on the floor. She quickly turned and disappeared.

“Let’s go.” Bradley gruffly grabbed your bicep. He gave you no time to get to your feet. Instead, three quarters of your body dragged along the floor as he pulled you to the kitchen. When he let you go, you slumped to the floor, your forearms stopping your face from hitting the tile. You were still lightheaded with fuzzy vision as you pressed yourself up on your palms.

“Bradley…” You slowly moved into a cross-legged sitting position.

“Don’t.” He cut you off. Bradley squared his body to you, arms across his chest. “There’s no coming back from this.” Bradley was pissed. 

You shook your head. “No, no.” Panic set in. “Don’t blame me!” you squeaked. Tears were beginning to well as you tried to get to your feet. 

“Stay on the floor,” he commanded. His look was deadly. Tears rolled down your cheeks. 

He sighed and ran his hands over his face. Bradley should’ve seen this coming. You were insane. The letters, showing up at his home unannounced, somehow frequenting the same places he did at the same. However, it never crossed his mind that you would try to murder someone, let alone his best friend.

While you reasoned with Bradley, Natasha was standing next to the couch, arms wrapped around herself, staring toward the kitchen. Eyes dilated from shock. She kept forgetting to breathe. When her body finally remembered, the sharp inhale would jolt her back to reality. She could hear Bradley’s voice but was not comprehending his words. The tones of your voice were grating her nerves, causing her arms to constrict tighter around her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the front door slowly open. Iced to her spot beside the couch, she watched fingers curl around the edge while the barrel of a standard-issue pistol poked inside. Holding the gun was a plain-clothes police officer. “Jay.” Relief washed through Natasha as she identified the face holding the weapon. 

“Hey, Nat.” Jay mouthed and flashed a reassuring smile. Quickly, he pressed his free pointer finger to his lips. A curt nod from Natasha let him know she understood his command, and then she watched as he stalked toward the kitchen.

A friend of Bradley’s, Jay was supposed to meet them at the Hard Deck earlier but had to cancel due to work. Of course, Natasha’s heart sank a little when she heard, but the text message from him promising to make it up to her eased the discomfort. 

Jay huddled in the kitchen doorway shadows, waiting for his partner to reach the backdoor. Natasha had briefed him on the situation when she called, so they plotted their entry on the drive over. Familiar with Bradley’s house, Jay knew the entry points, so your odds of escaping were minimal. 

Back to the door, you didn’t see a face appear in the corner of the window. Bradley noticed but did not acknowledge in a way that made you aware. Not that it mattered—your vision was hazed between your head injury and the tears. Plus, you were occupied mumbling apologies to Bradley.

Everything happened all at once. The backdoor sprang open, someone jumped on top of you, and a man you had seen a few times stepped out of the shadows, pointing a gun at you. Bradley had fallen back and was standing with Natasha in his arms at the living room-kitchen threshold.

Your mind was numb as the officers cuffed you and read your Miranda rights. The last thing you remembered was falling to your knees in the driveway and yelling for Bradley to forgive you. Standing in the doorway, he looked you dead in the eyes and closed the door.

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The Bradshaw Baddie™ Bunch (my taglist): @cherrycola27, @roosterforme, @galaxy-of-stories, @taytaylala12, @malindacath, @violyn20, @awildewit, @potato-girl99981, @shanimallina87, @i-simp-much, @blue-aconite, @djs8891, @linkpk88, @furiousladyking, @daggerspare-standingby, @princess76179, @jstarr86, @hecate-steps-on-me, @chicomonks, @darkheartcherry

[slut4motherearth]

{ig: iamgia}

[thedroneranger]

Nik! This is Dadley Dadshaw, but make it presidential. I did take some creative liberties. This board is how Wise-woman sees Bradley in the first weeks after the twins arrive. He's leveled up, mastering the art of parenthood but also running a country.

President Dadshaw | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw | requested by @cherrycola27 | Red, White, and Rooster universe

The Drone Ranger’s Moodboard Mania

Taglist: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @mayhemmanaged @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @seitmai

[attapullman]

Stupid White Car | Neighbor!Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Pretty trees and cozy fire pit nights are all you expected when Robert mentioned wanting to landscape his backyard. And then the architect in the slutty white Benz shows up.

Word Count: 810

Warnings: none except sorry if your name is Alyssa 😬

A Note From Mo: The world's biggest shoutout to my favourite Bradshaw Baddie @roosterforme for coming up with this delicious idea and beta-ing this sake-written, jealousy-fueled oneshot for the neighbor!Bob anthology. Hope this satisfies everyone's appetite until Part III graces your screens.

The project was supposed to be done a week ago. No more white Mercedes in his driveway, no more lemonade on the back patio, no more mulch deliveries outside business hours. No more her.

When Robert announced he was finally landscaping his boring grass lawn while on leave, you had encouraged him. Dreams of sitting out there with him by a fire pit under some string lights danced before your eyes. But now you’re wishing he had kept his patchy lawn that turned into a mud pit at the slightest chance of rain.

Then she showed up.

You were working in your home office, deep into a spreadsheet, when you heard a female voice in the yard next door. Face pressed into the window, turning just so, a tiny postage stamp of his yard visible from your vantage point. Your sweet boyfriend walking around his desolate lawn, pointing out problems, while the most stunning woman followed him, smiling and nodding and jotting down notes. 

It should be illegal for him to look so good in faded jeans with grass stains. Or for her to pull off work boots so well. 

You missed your three o’clock meeting observing them from your hideout, having moved to the laundry room where you could see his yard better. Watched them sit at the little finicky table he needed to replace and go over pages in her catalog, pointing out the design features he liked and what she recommended. 

You didn’t know words like drip irrigation and concept plan could sound so…intimate.

Now it’s been weeks, and that annoying little car is always in his driveway. When she’s not “supervising” the subcontractor, she’s delivering supplies or needing to go over the plans one last time. The 15th has come and gone, and yet she’s still here. And you’re not sure whether it’s your imagination or not that her blouses suddenly have one less button done.

It’s a beautiful spring day outside, and you wish you were out there instead of holed up trying to make sense of this budget. The window is open to allow a soft breeze, tickling the skin not covered by your thin tshirt. An hour ago you shot Robert a text asking if he wanted to have dinner out tonight, try out that new bistro with the cute patio and enjoy the sunshine and some tiramisu. 

Maybe add in an evening walk along the beach? Ending with a night cap and him wrapped in your overstuffed comforter, enjoying his last night of leave blissfully unaware of the rest of the world.

Checking your quiet phone again, you settle down to your computer. And then you hear a perfect twinkle of a laugh. 

You abandon your computer and race down to the laundry, face pressed against the glass as emerald green jealousy licks along your skin.

No wonder you haven’t heard from Robert, his full attention is on his landscape architect as she has him choose between gravels for the stepping stones they’re finally installing. He’s brought out lemonade. Innocent blue eyes trained on her and laughing good-naturedly as she makes a joke about mortar. A joke a little too sultry for your taste.

You didn’t even hear her car pull in. When you talked to him last night he acted like all decisions had been made, one more full day of work and his backyard would be summer ready. It’s not a surprise she has weaseled herself into another visit.

Their hands accidentally brush as they flip between sample pages. Your entire being is rigid, the world in front of you an ominous red. How dare she touch what’s yours!

Before reasoning can interfere, you’re slipping on sandals and racing to the back fence. Pupils wild, heart racing, the green-eyed monster hot on your heels. 

The latch on his fence, newly installed, nearly pulverized in your jealousy-fueled mission. The gate swings open and there they sit, too close for your liking, her manicured fingers gliding along his forearm as she explains costs. 

Robert stands from his chair, shock and surprise written all over his face. He’s never seen this look in your eyes, this possession written all over your features. The woman raises her eyebrows to you, mildly shocked, mildly irritated you’ve interrupted her meeting with her favorite client.

“Alyssa, this is my, uh, neighbor next door…” he trails off awkwardly, realizing he’s never had to introduce you since that fateful night in your kitchen.

You see her smirk. Her revealing blouse. Her eyes that pity you. And from the corner of your eye, you see that stupid white Mercedes.

Rounding the rickety table, Robert’s eyes are filled with nothing but affection. A gentle reminder that she’s had his time, but you have his heart.

Your shoulders relax, returning her smug smile as you complete his sentence. “Neighbor…and girlfriend.”

taglist: @bella-maria2018 @berryvanille @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @bradshawsbaby @cosmoeticss @creatchie8 @desert-fern @drxgxnslxyer @erospecies @hangmanapologist @hauntedduckdefendor @hiireadstuff @himbos-on-ice @jessicab1991 @just-in-case-iloveyou @kmc1989 @livingoutsidethetardis @mariaenchanted @maryelizabeth13 @melsunshine @midnightmagpiemama @petersunderoos96 @pinkdaisies9285 @primroseluna @roosterforme @seitmai @senawashere @sometimesanalice @sorchathered @sweetwhispersofchaos @sydsommersss @topherwrites @unpretty-reader @xoxabs88xox @yuckosworld

join the taglist for any fic

[bradleysbradshaws]

it's amazing to think that we can get new perspectives on life all because of something or someone we love. to love truly is to be changed.

[dragon--sage]

just read that dragon age: dreadwolf has been renamed to dragon age: the veilguard and i am……… not hating it, but i am going to miss dreadwolf, i think it had a ring to it?

interesting to think about the idea of a ‘veilguard’ in a set up where solas has sworn to tear down the veil.

maybe the mc? or their party? hopelessly trying to plug up holes in the veil while solas and his demon buds zip in and out of them and create more constantly??? it’s giving ‘i have one job and it’s going very poorly’. definitely appreciate that lmao.

i can’t help but wonder (*carrie bradshaw voice*)…….. why they made the change? was someone eternally bothered by the fact that as it’s written in the series dread wolf has never been one word lmao (which if that’s the case….. same)? or that it implies solas is the main focus/baddie of the story when that’s not what they’re going for ????

lots to ponder and i guess it’ll be under a new tag now

[108garys]

Mayshaw

Of all the things I could have drawn I chose Lady Bradshaw and Jenny may because why not put to Midcentury blonde bombshells together ❤

I have named the ship of these two villianess baddies "mayshaw"

@kassiekolchek22 @delurkr @tatjana-fantasy @blubary @unhingedlesbear @ctrvpani @qusok @mybrainrotforreal @kindheartedgummybears(Agnes is short but Jenny is also sitting in her lap lol)

[lesseraive]

gifwrapped 2023!!! i was tagged by @facethesuns @irlvernon and @doyeons thank you guys so much <333

rules: link your favorite and/or most popular post from each month this year (totally fine to skip months) and tag some CCs you love!

ps: i'm including gifs posted across all the blogs i'm apart of! i did a similar tag on my enhypen blog

january: - most popular: the boys yunjin - my fav: sugar rush ride mv

february: - i barely giffed this month so just gonna share my fav: ay-yo mv i love the colors in this one!

march: - most popular: jennie for calvin klein - my fav: liz and liz !!!!

april: - most popular: giddy xiaoting!!! - my fav: coachella jennieee

may: - most popular: MY MANNN MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN - my fav: my man ^^ and spici winter

june: - most popular: chaechae :] - my fav: apple jungwon

july: - most popular: eleven wonyoung - my fav: fav releases and gee eff :]

august: - most popular: jihyo in the rain + carrie bradshaw 😭 (including both bc im pretty sure they are the most popular sets i made this year) - my fav: the return of blonde liz and long hair gaeul!

september: - most popular: samantha jones,,, okay satc fandom outperforming kpoppies - my fav: rainbow after like!

october: - most popular: ending baddies~ - my fav: off the record whispering and performance so sad this one flopped

november: - most popular: winter ヾ(☆▽☆) - my fav: criminal love hee and all my 111823 stage gifs

december: - most popular: jay peekaboo - my fav: i've mine era + do not touch mv and my ive/aespa gifs from gayo daejeon!

i'm just gonna tag ccs i love i'm not sure who has done this so !! @twiceland @fawad-khan @jeonwonwoo @emoremix @ajusnice @saerom @tutontawan @komca @toplines @kwon-eunbi @shnryjn @prkjihyos @solojihyo @backformores @mimisamo @miyawaki @yutito

[thedroneranger]

Every time this hits my dash, I re-read and reblog 🖤

The 1%

In which Rooster reminds you he’s not just a king in the sky. He’s that good in your bedroom too. Rooster x Reader. 18+. Slow smut, nsfw.

Please don’t hang around if you’re underage. This is not for you.

It wasn’t often Rooster slept so soundly. He was cooked, you knew he was. Every time he’d go away and return, he’d say he’d never felt adrenaline like it in his lifetime of flying and instead of coming home and making love… well, he asked if you would just stay with him. He stripped and showered, needing the decay of the fight removed from him. He wanted you curled around him and remind him it was all okay. You gave him what he needed, stayed close and hoped he was having pleasant dreams.

He’d been out a few hours and every once in a while, you’d kiss between his scorching shoulder blades, run your fingers through his short curls, or tell him you loved him. He’d smile faintly or mumble something inaudible but would never fully wake. It was okay, your restraint could hold on. What was one more night? He was home, he was safe.

But you were in HELL. Hell, watching him in your bed and not filled with the same urgency and pent-up frustration of needing his body, just like you were. You trekked a fingernail down the curves and ridges of his shoulder blades and back of his ribs, a new part of his body to be obsessed about. “God, you’re beautiful. But I’ll let you sleep this one time,“ you huffed to yourself.

He gave a low chuckle, surprising you. “Why are you still awake?” his already raspy voice thick with exhaustion. "What time is it?”

Keep reading

[thedroneranger]

Babe, first off, so proud of you

Second off, I need a moodboard (or two) of Bradley and Wise-woman on their Rhode Island baby-moon and them with the first babies!

Third off, ILY😘❤️🍒🖤

My Little Miss Onion 🧅, tumblr bestie, Nik! For you, of course, I made two boards. I must thank you for your patience. Because...I was dragging me feet. I didn't want the President Bradshaw universe to end! So I'm glad I got to take a little bit and relive it while I made these boards. Up first: the Rhode Island babymoon!

I will say, the creative juices really got flowing when my work session was soundtracked by Ms. Elizabeth Gerardi ;)

Here with Me | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw | requested by @cherrycola27 | Red, White, and Rooster universe

The Drone Ranger’s Moodboard Mania

Taglist: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @mayhemmanaged @blueoorchid @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @seitmai

[ereardon]

For your Recco List, might I recommend "false god" by @cherrycola27

It's a gender bent retelling of the myth of Hades (and Persephone aka the worst goddess ever)

In Nik's version, Hades is a female fighter pilot with a legendary career who's been banished to Earth. She gets station with the Dagger Squad and falls for one Bradley Bradshaw. As the story evolves, we see Hades go from isolating herself, to letting herself fall in love and be loved while dealing with and healing her past trauma. It's a work in progress, and I can't way to see where Nik takes it. The way she incorporates her own spin on mythology in it thrills me!

Omgosh this is such a fun and interesting premise @cherrycola27!!!

My husband is a total mythology nerd so he would love this if he had one millionth as much of a crush on Bradley as I do lol. Love that you've recommended a WIP, I feel like sometimes people feel like they can't make reccos until a series is over but that doesn't have to be the case.

This is totally going on my TBR! And for any Bradley Baddies™ out there, this sounds like one for y'all!

Here's the series masterlist

Recommend a fic you love and spotlight a writer!

[roosterbruiser]

how’re my Bradshaw baddies today…….

[thedroneranger]

- Sugar, to Phoebe 🖤

Old Habits Die Hard Part 7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: As much as you want a sleepover, it's probably not a good idea. And you notice that Bradley is in need of some defending.

Warnings: Angst, swears, smut, fluff

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check my profile for my masterlist

Now you could completely understand the appeal of sleeping with Bradley. His dick was huge and satisfying. His body was strong and attractive. His kisses and voice were completely addicting. Simply put, he was good in bed. 

Yeah, it all made sense now. All the girls. Wanting to write their names on his door. Yeah, you got it. 

But the way he was still kissing you and murmuring against your skin after making you come was something else entirely. You could feel yourself blushing and wanted to hide your face when he said, "My Sugar."

You almost moaned again when he rolled over and you sat up in his bed. You could tell your hair was a mess, and your head was still spinning a bit. Bradley looked up at you, raking his eyes over your body before he climbed out of bed to remove the condom. 

"Where's your bathroom?" you asked, your voice soft and hoarse. 

Bradley leaned down to kiss you before saying, "I'll show you." You watched as he pulled his boxer shorts on, but when you stood to gather all of your discarded clothing, he gently took you by the hand and held out his robe for you. He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist to tie the sash tight, making sure you were well covered. "It's across the hall."

Then he led you right out of his room, clearly not caring who saw you together. Of course he was probably this way with all of his conquests. There were some guys hanging out at the end of the hallway, but they barely glanced your way as Bradley flipped on the bathroom light for you. You could hear the party still going on downstairs, the loud music and everyone talking over it. 

"Thanks," you muttered, ducking inside and closing the door. Your legs felt rubbery as you examined your face in the mirror. Your lips were parted and a little swollen. Your eyes were wide and alert. Your hair was a mess. Your neck was marked up again from Bradley. You looked a little fucked out, and it looked good on you.

You used the toilet and then splashed some water on your face. You liked him so much. And now you needed to leave, because you could already feel yourself getting attached and wanting to cuddle. And he wasn't the right one to have these kinds of feelings for. You'd go, because he probably wanted you to leave anyway. 

Wearing his robe was not helping; it was soft and it smelled like him. And when you opened the door, he was waiting for you, smiling. 

"Just didn't want any of the guys giving you a hard time," he told you as he nodded to his bedroom door. "I'll be right in." 

He watched you walk into his room before closing himself in the bathroom. You ran your fingers across your phone number written on his door before closing it and pressing your lips together. You buried your nose in the collar of his robe and took a few deep breaths as you kept thinking about how sweet Bradley actually was. You were pretty sure he stopped hooking up with Phoebe or anyone else by this point, and you frowned. He was going to make this hard for you. Unless maybe you could do this with him again. 

Just as you were kicking your shoes toward your discarded clothing, Bradley walked in and closed the door behind him. He walked over to you and gathered you up in his arms, immediately pressing his lips to your neck. 

You whimpered softly. "I'll get dressed in a minute," you told him, closing your eyes and memorizing how good this felt. "Any chance you can walk me home?"

You felt his body freeze, and then he was slowly removing his arms from around your waist. You couldn't have imagined a sadder look on his face if you had tried. 

"You don't want to stay?" he asked softly, running one hand along the back of his neck. You watched his bicep twitch as he licked his lips nervously. 

A hopeful feeling filled your heart as you asked, "Do you want me to stay?"

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

Bradley felt sick. You wanted him to walk you home. This was it. This was as far as he was ever going to get, and this is exactly why he shouldn't have gone to your apartment today. This is precisely the reason why he should have protected himself and tried to find someone else to try to be a better person with. For a minute at the beginning, he really thought he was the one who was going to destroy you, but somehow in the last few weeks, he'd given you the power to hurt him.  

"Do you want me to stay?" you asked, your voice so small he could barely hear you. But your face was a blank canvas, and he couldn't read it. You'd been moaning his name and melting into him in bed thirty minutes ago. Of course he fucking wanted you to stay. This was the best he had ever felt after having sex in his entire life. He was sober. You were awesome. You told him you liked him.

He swallowed hard. "Yeah, Sugar. I want you to stay."

"Oh," you whispered. "Okay." Bradley saw the tension melt out of you that he hadn't even been aware was there. 

"Will you?" he asked, wanting to make sure you and he were on the same page before he suggested anything else. 

"Yeah, Beer Boy. I'll stay." 

You made him smile, and your gaze dipped down to his lips, so he kissed you. And you didn't back away. You returned his kisses immediately, smiling against his lips and resting your cold hands on his bare chest before sliding them to his shoulders and pulling him closer. 

You pressed your front against his, and he wrapped his hands around your waist, running them along his robe. You sighed softly as he let his lips ghost over yours as he whispered, "Sugar. Did I... Did I do something to make you feel like I didn't want you here anymore?"

You shook your head slowly, the tip of your nose brushing against his. "No. I just wasn't sure... I didn't know if you let girls sleep over or not. And I'm still reeling a little bit. That was the first time I ever came like that."

Bradley's heart was pounding. "Like what?" he asked, his voice raspy as you buried your face in his neck.

"With a guy. Unless you want to include our time in the library. Either way... it was with you."

Bradley groaned and held you tighter. He was never going to let you go. He was never going to ask you to leave. 

"Sugar, you can't tell me that and expect me not to get immediately hard again," he whispered in your ear. Now your face was buried against his neck and you were moaning and kissing him here. "And you're not other girls. I told you they don't matter."

"Bradley," you whispered as he guided you toward his bed.

"I told you I like you." He pulled back the bedding and climbed in, reaching out to you. He watched as you climbed up on your knees with a smirk on your face. "Come here."

Bradley pulled you down halfway on top of him and your laughter filled the room. Such a gorgeous sound. You looked so cute in his bathrobe, too. You smiled at him, your legs tangling with his as you got comfortable on his chest. 

"Bradley, I don't have any of my stuff for a sleepover," you told him, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair and along his scars. 

"What do you need?" he asked, pushing your hair away from your neck and teasing your soft skin there. 

He watched your eyes flutter closed as you said, "Clothes, a toothbrush, face wash. All of my makeup so I don't look like a trainwreck in the morning."

Bradley chuckled. "You can wear my clothes. I think I have an extra toothbrush, and I have face wash in the bathroom. You're very pretty. You'll still be beautiful in the morning. So I don't think you need to worry about that." 

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Beer Boy."

But Bradley's lips were on yours again. "Just let me be sweet to you, Sugar." You kissed him so well, like you weren't in any hurry. Your tongue teased his gently, and he still had no desire to rush to the finish with you. When he was with Phoebe or one of the others, he just fucked them so he could get himself off. But now that he knew he was the first guy to get you off, he wanted to do it a million more times. You went right to his head and made him feel things.

Your hands were tugging gently through his hair as you inched up along his body, and you let him reach under his bathrobe and caress your ass and lower back.

"Mmm," you hummed against his lips before you straddled his waist and moved your soft lips to his neck. Bradley could feel your pussy rubbing against his abs as you sucked and licked around his scars. 

He gripped your thighs before running his hand between your bodies and through your wetness. You cried out and released his neck. "You going for a repeat of the library, baby?" He watched you blush as you looked down at him. "Don't be embarrassed. You're so fucking hot. You can do whatever you want to me."

You gasped. "You can't just tell me that, Beer Boy," you whispered before wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and devouring his mouth. Bradley was hiking the robe higher, digging his fingers into your waist a little harder now. "Take it off," you murmured between rough kisses, and Bradley quickly found the sash and untied it. 

You sat up straight on him, and the sight was almost too much. All your soft skin was on display, and when your tattoo came into view as you shucked off the sleeves and tossed the robe to the floor, he was reaching for you. Your tits bounced beautifully as the robe left your hands, and Bradley fit them nicely in his palms. He traced his pinky over your tattoo and your eyes met his. 

You leaned down again and stroked his cheek with your fingertips before returning your lips to his in a kiss that had you grinding against him again. Bradley's cock was so hard, and it was getting no attention from you, which was making him crazier for you. Because he knew as soon as you touched him there, he would be seeing stars. And when your ass bumped back and nudged him a moment later, he tightened his grip on your hair and fucked your mouth with his tongue. 

You were letting him be rough while you whimpered, and he didn't think he could fuck you slowly this time. He wanted you hard. He stroked his hands along your thighs, squeezing you each time you made a little sound for him.

"Where are the condoms?" you asked, in a broken little voice that had his blood flowing even hotter. 

"On the desk," Bradley replied, voice hoarse and rough already. You slid off of him, and he watched you walk away, the sight of your ass sending his hand down to stroke himself. He needed to last for you. He needed to make you feel so good that you praised him again. He wanted to hear you tell him you liked him one more time. 

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

You didn't hesitate this time. You wanted to fuck him again. You wanted to sleep over. You wanted as much as you could get. Maybe that made you as needy as the other girls, writing their names on his door and trying to leave their mark on him, but you'd never treat him that way. 

But Jesus, if he called you Sugar one more time, you were likely to melt into a little liquidy pile of sweet goo.

You ripped off another condom and took it back to the bed. Bradley was sitting up and stroking himself, and you gasped before throwing yourself on top of him. He chuckled and opened the wrapper as you wound your arms around his shoulders and pressed your mouth to his. You smiled against his lips as he grunted and tossed the condom wrapper on the floor before rolling it down his length. 

"Ready when you are, Sugar," he whispered, and you were immediately guiding yourself to his tip and taking him slowly inside. You felt powerful as his head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut with the veins in his neck straining. He was sitting up, supporting himself with both arms until you came to rest with him fully inside you, panting at the feeling of being so full and sitting on him. Then he wrapped one arm around your back and held you close as you started to move.

You rolled your hips slowly at first, his lips grazing over your cheek and moving back to your ear. You could hear the deep noises he made every time you had him buried deep. Every move you made had your breasts brushing his chest, and you could feel his tidy hairs against your clit, his body giving you delicious pressure there. 

Bradley held you to him, guiding his lips to yours as his nose grazed your cheek. Then he was kissing you softly, before growing a little rougher as your hips picked up pace. He was nipping and nudging you, pulling your lip into his mouth and teasing as you could feel yourself starting to clench. This was unlike anything else, being filled to the brim with him and feeling the prickly sensation against your clit. This was the third time he had been better than your own fingers, and the thought of having to get yourself off was almost laughable now. 

"Perfection," he mumbled before pressing his lips to your chin, and his voice made you moan. 

The rhythm felt so good as you rode him, each stroke getting you closer than the last. You jerked yourself up and down faster as you suddenly came, grinding harder and harder and pulling his hair. "Oh!" you moaned loudly. 

It was so good, and you were melting against him as he lay back against the pillows, pulling you with him. You kissed him with little coordination as he took you by the hips and thrust up into you until he was grunting and groaning. "Sugar," he hissed against your mouth, and you licked his tongue as he fucked you with one more hard thrust before his movements slowed. 

You were going to need him again. 

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

The party was finally starting to quiet down as Bradley held you against him, snuggled in bed underneath all of his blankets. He ran his fingers through your hair and down your bare back. 

You had asked him more about the Navy, and he was telling you all about the training he was hoping to partake in. "I'd get to be all over the place. First up to Newport, Rhode Island for a bit, then the Naval Aviation School in Pensacola, Florida. Maybe even Top Gun in San Diego someday. I've barely been out of Virginia before, so all that sounds much better to me. What are you doing next year, Sugar?" He had never once talked to a girl after hooking up. He couldn't even remember having sex two times in a row like that before. He wasn't sure he even knew what Phoebe's major was. 

But now he knew that you were looking at different options for grad schools. You were already starting to study for entrance exams. You wanted to be a college math professor. 

"You'll be teaching advanced calculus, sporting your hot mathlete tattoo that nobody can see. Jesus, just the idea of it is too much," he mumbled into your hair as you giggled. "Hottest tattoo I have ever seen, you have no idea." He stroked your skin hidden underneath his blanket in the exact spot where your tattoo was located. He'd never forget the way it looked for the rest of his fucking life. 

You laughed while looking at him in the lamplight. "I had no idea you would like it so much."

"It's my favorite," he promised with a grin, tickling your side just below the tattoo. You laughed and wrapped yourself around him, grabbing both of his hands to get him to stop. And when you tried to retaliate, you immediately pouted, because he wasn't ticklish at all. 

"Not fair," you said, and he kissed your lips.  

"Totally fair. You have too much control already," he mumbled and started to climb out of bed. 

You sat up and looked at him with questioning eyes. It was chilly in his room, and you wrapped yourself in his blankets. But Bradley could see your breast with your peaked nipple peeking out and he licked his lips. 

"Where are you going?" you asked softly. "I'm cold without you."

Bradley sighed deeply and kissed your cheek. He dug in his dresser and pulled out one of his favorite tee shirts and some soft sweatpants for you to put on. "I'm starving. I'll go raid the kitchen and get us a snack. Then I'll turn the heat up now that the party is probably pretty much over."

"Okay," you said as you pulled his shirt on. 

As he put on his boxers and shrugged into his bathrobe, he took one last look at you before heading to the kitchen. You even looked hot in his bright, tie dyed Grateful Dead shirt. 

He grabbed a bag of pretzels and two water bottles before he ran into Tyson.

"Two water bottles? Tell me it's not Phoebe," Tyson said as he started pouring himself a bowl of cereal. 

"It's not Phoebe," Bradley replied with a smile. 

Tyson chuckled. "It's Janessa's roommate, huh?"

"Of course it is," Bradley said as he went back into the hallway and nudged the thermostat a little higher. He was also just in time to see Jeff going upstairs with a girl who looked wasted and wasn't wearing a shirt. 

Maybe that meant Jeff was done pursuing you. But Bradley still didn't like that; he never hooked up with girls who were too gone. He paused and waited a minute before heading back to his bedroom. 

You were waiting for him in his bed, wearing his oversized clothes. "It should warm up in here soon," he told you, but you just shrugged.

"I wasn't cold when you were in bed, too."

So he fed you pretzels until you started yawning, and then you both got ready for bed. You used his face wash, and he found his extra toothbrush for you. He was right, you looked virtually the same and just as pretty with no makeup on, and he made sure to tell you that.

And when Bradley closed and locked his door, guiding you to bed with his arms around you, he realized this had been one of the best nights of his life. He fell asleep curled up with you, your even breathing and sweet smelling skin guiding him to sleep. 

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

You started to wake up as sunlight filtered across your face. But you were so warm and comfortable, you couldn't be bothered with getting up yet, so you rolled to your other side and snuggled against the source of warmth. It smelled good, too, so you let yourself be wrapped up in it. 

You cracked both eyes open when you remembered where you were and who you were with. "Good morning," Bradley rasped, and you couldn't stop the smile from blooming across your lips. 

"Good morning, Beer Boy," you whispered, and he wrapped his arms tighter around you. 

"Did you sleep okay, Sugar?" He was about to have some melted sugar on his hands again. His voice was extra deep and raspy from sleeping, and now he was running his fingers up inside the tee shirt and along your back. 

"Yes. You're very snuggly, and I was very tired. What time is it?"

"Almost nine. You need me to walk you home?" he asked softly.

You shook your head, the tip of your nose brushing the long scar on his neck. "Not unless you want me to go. I don't have anything planned."

His only response was the press of his lips on yours. Then he guided you down to the kitchen and you both sat on the counter and ate bowls of cereal and drank some coffee side by side. A few of his fraternity brothers came and went, and you were introduced to them. But Bradley seemed happy to have you there with him. 

Then you went back to his room and both of you got undressed immediately. You pushed him down onto his desk chair, and he tossed the condom wrapper across the room with a smirk that made you laugh. 

"Let's just decorate your room with those," you told him before pressing your lips to his and sliding him inside you.

"I'd love to do that with you, Sugar," he promised as you rode him.

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

It was almost noon, and you were still here. Bradley could come up with a list of reasons to try to keep you with him if need be. But now you were snuggled up in front of him in bed, and you were both pretending to watch a movie on his laptop. Occasionally he would press a kiss to your neck, and he caught you dozing off a few times. 

A sharp knock on the door had you jumping against him, but he just chuckled and said, "It's probably just Tyson. He already knows you're here anyway if you want to get it."

You climbed out of bed and stretched before heading for the door as he reached to press pause on his computer. 

But when you opened the door, Bradley heard you suck in a breath before he heard Phoebe's voice.

"Really?" Phoebe asked, glaring at you, and Bradley was immediately out of bed and across the room, thankful he was wearing underwear. Phoebe was eyeing you from head to toe, eyes narrowing as she took in Bradley's clothing on you. He never let her borrow his stuff. He never let her hang out until noon either. 

"Phoebe," he muttered, coming to stand right behind you. Briefly, you glanced up over your shoulder at him, but you didn't move. I almost felt like you were there to protect him in some way.

"Is this Sugar?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I expected you to be alone by now, no matter who you'd been with last night." Bradley almost flinched, because she sounded so mad. "Why are you still here?" she asked you, but you didn't back away at all.

"I was invited. Unlike you," you told her, and Bradley watched Phoebe's jaw clench. 

Bradley ran his hand along your back, trying to let you know you didn't need to egg her on, but Phoebe was already on a roll now. She wouldn't stop until she had hurt someone's feelings. 

"You look like you're a little bit out of your league here," she told you in a patronizing tone. "Whenever I want him, he comes back to me."

"No, I don't," Bradley said firmly.

Phoebe just smiled at him and said, "You will. But in the meantime," she said, shifting her attention back to you, "enjoy my sloppy seconds, and every other girl's sloppy thirds."

Bradley could feel the blood drain from his face, but you were so quick with a response, it surprised him. "There's a reason I'm the one inside his room, wearing his clothes, and getting his attention. It's because he just raised his standards," you stated calmly. 

Bradley watched Phoebe's jaw drop open. "I expected you to at least be cute," she said before storming off. 

"Bitch," you murmured under your breath as Bradley pushed the door closed and pulled you into his arms.

"Sorry about that. If I knew it was her, we would have just ignored it," he whispered. You looked up at him and kissed his neck. "Are you okay, Beer Boy? She was so mean to you."

Bradley hugged you and laughed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Did you just... defend my honor?"

You nodded your head against him. "Yes, and I'll do it again if I have to."

Bradley just let himself feel good for a minute, and then he suggested the two of you get a shower together before he took you out for lunch. 

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

Oh, sweet, misguided Beer Boy and his feelings. Thanks @mak-32 for everything with this fic! This story is for you, Mak.

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

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@daisyhollyxox

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[callsign-magnolia]

Okay!

Hey babe!

Since you made me cry yesterday....I wanna stir a bit of trouble.....

Kill /Marry ONLY no in between no excuses

Kill / Marry between:

Jake and Bradley

Which one would you kill and which one would you marry......

Ps. Don't be mad at me🤣

Kill Jake Marry Bradley.

I am a Bradshaw Baddie at my core

[lewmagoo]

I’m sliding in to share some gratitude of my own 😊

My OG BB™️, @roosterforme, who has created four roo-nicorns 🦄🦄🦄🦄 that I truly enjoy reading about. I also enjoy when she lets Jake Seresin roam around the ranch every now and then 🤠

Little Miss Onion 🧅, @cherrycola27, who keeps us all on our toes, and me in my grave. Thank goodness she resides in the neighboring coffin and also is good at seances so she can resurrect me 🍒

To my fellow Seresin Girlies @mayhemmanaged and @cassiemitchell. Thank you for thirsting over our VP with me 🖤 We know I love my Bradshaw Baddies™️, but it’s nice to some Seresin Girlies

Lastly, I could tag a bunch of folks from memory, but I would not be able to hit everyone, so thank you to anyone who has written a fic I read, curated a moodboard I liked or painstakingly created a gif I reblogged. And to anyone who has taken the time to read, comment or positively interact with me and others creators, you make this fandom great. Let’s keep doing it!

🖤

hugs and love to all of these lovelies

[thedroneranger]

I think I was distracted by the other cockpit shots 😅

@roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32

Top Gun: Maverick (2022) ↳ Dir. Joseph Kosinski