#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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[slut4motherearth]

{ig: iamgia}

[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.

[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

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[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

[thedroneranger]

Oh my, Cass—the TENSION. I was going to combust just reading this. I have few words because I’m still processing…

Just pick my head up once in a while so I don’t completely drown 💀🖤⚰️

warm blood

about: a few drinks at everyone’s favourite bar. you’re home, it’s been a few very cold months at sea. but he warms you to your bones each time you see him. but it’s sadly just not meant to be. 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: angst, language, vivid thots of smut if you have an over-active imagination.

The sound that escaped Rooster’s lips as you dragged your nails through his unruly sun-kissed curls had you cackling. A feral growl that started at his boots, so low that when released, he almost didn’t recognise himself. “Rooster Bradshaw, you need a girlfriend,” you decided.

His side-eye to you was legendary and he sighed dramatically. “I don’t need a girlfriend; I just need to get laid,” he clarified, realising just how pitiful he sounded and then adding softly when you ceased your ministrations, “Please don’t stop. That feels so fuckin’ good. It’s like the most physical contact I’ve had in…” he mumbled, his honey-coloured eyes fluttering closed and took a deep, satisfied pull of his beer. God, how long had it been? He didn’t want to admit to himself, let alone you, how long it’d been since someone had touched him like that.

Keep reading

[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]

I think Em's fingers are made of gold. Everything she writes is gold. 🦄

Do You Wish It Was Me? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley returns from deployment and finds you engaged to Harvard, he knows he needs to get you back. 

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Length: 2400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for a request from @rosesinmars! Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun!

Bradley had been thinking about you every day for six months. It had been a long deployment, even for him, and that's why he decided to hold off taking things to the next level with you. At least until he was home again.

But now that he was back in San Diego and had some time to spend with you, he wanted to make you more than a friend with benefits. A lot more. 

He had tried texting you all day, and now as he was easing his Bronco into the parking lot at the Hard Deck, he was hoping you would be inside. 

Bradley met you last summer. You had been working as a server at the restaurant next to the bar while you finished your graduate degree. You were bubbly, gorgeous, sexy and smart. It didn't take long until Bradley had ended up in bed with you. He spent night after night with your body connected to his, your hands wrapped in his hair while he made love to you.

He wanted to get back to that place, and more.

"Rooster!" Nat screamed when he strolled in. "You didn't tell me you were home!" He let his friend jump into his arms and hug him tight.

"Just got home today," he told her, as he drew the attention of the other aviators and everyone hanging out at the pool table. But he was distracted now, because you were there, next to the bar, nursing a beer. Your eyes were already on Bradley's when he found you in the crowd. But Harvard was standing next to you with his arm around you. 

Bradley's blood ran cold as Lieutenant Brigham Lennox leaned toward you and kissed your cheek. Your gaze never wavered, rather it remained on Bradley, even as Harvard pushed your hair away from your neck. 

"What the fuck?" Bradley muttered. He could hear his friends calling for him at the pool table, and Nat tried to lead him in that direction. "No, I just need a minute."

Nat let go of him and he made his way around the bar. Your eyes grew wider as he got closer to you, and when Harvard saw Bradley approaching, he reached out a hand and slapped Bradley on the back. 

"Rooster! Welcome back, man." Bradley shook his hand, barely registering that Brigham was even touching him. He never could stand Harvard; he always drank until he was wasted, and tried to hook up with girls who Bradley would have thought were too drunk to know what they wanted. 

"Harvard," Bradley grunted, still looking at you.

But Harvard must have noticed where Bradley was looking, because he smiled brightly and said. "I can't thank you enough for introducing her to me. Show him your ring, Sweetcheeks!" 

Bradley felt like the rest of the bar and all of the patrons were slowly fading into nothingness. All that remained was him and you. And the diamond engagement ring on your finger.

"Hi, Bradley," you said timidly as his eyes darted between your finger and your eyes. You hadn't waited for him. Not only that, but you were engaged. To a complete asshole. 

Bradley felt sick and confused and angry and horribly sad as you smiled softly at him. "Did he just call you Sweetcheeks?" was all Bradley managed to ask, and you took a step closer to him when Harvard wandered away to talk to someone else. "Honey?"

Your mouth dropped open. "Bradley. Should we go talk outside?"

He just nodded and followed you as you made your way through the crowd. He had been hoping to see you tonight, but not like this. He wanted you in his arms, against his skin, your voice lulling him to sleep. 

"What happened?" Bradley asked once you and he were the only ones outside on the deck. "Harvard?" He was panicking. 

You nodded your head a few times. "We've been dating. Only engaged for a week."

"Honey. I've been thinking about you every single day for six months." There was no way this was right. You should be holding him by now, listening to Bradley tell you all about the dates he was going to take you on.  

He watched the expressions on your face rapidly change from confusion to anger to sadness.

"You've been thinking about me? You never said anything before you left, Bradley."

And you were right. He really hadn't. But Bradley thought you felt the same way about him. Or at least that your feelings were strong enough that you wouldn't be engaged to Harvard after six months. 

"I'm really, really regretting that now, Honey." He ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"I think you need to stop calling me Honey," you whispered sadly, and Bradley watched you chew on your lip. 

Bradley swallowed hard and nodded. He barely heard you say, "I'm sorry," as you went back inside. He followed you a little helplessly. He watched Harvard get so drunk that he was embarrassing himself. He watched you as your eyes often found his, and Bradley knew he needed you back.

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

You had been keeping your distance, and Bradley hated it. He was thinking about how you had been his, even if just for a short time. You had shared your dreams with him late at night. He knew about your family and your likes and dislikes. 

When Bradley ran into you on base when you came to drop off Harvard's lunch, you couldn't hide the look of longing from him. 

"Honey," Bradley said quietly. "You don't have to be with him."

You shook your head slightly and said, "It's too late." 

When your gaze dropped down to look at your ring, Bradley kept his eyes on yours. "He's not good enough for you."

Harvard was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, appearing with his arm draped across the shoulders of a new recruit called Glory, his mouth close to her ear. But he dropped her like a sack of potatoes when he saw you standing next to Bradley.

"Sweetcheeks! You bring me my lunch?" he asked, giving you a sloppy kiss and digging into the bag you handed to him. "Thanks. I'll see you later."

He just winked at Bradley and then followed Glory into the lunchroom. 

"It's not too late," Bradley called out to your retreating form. The little raise of your hand as you walked away made him want to chase you down.

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

It had been weeks since Bradley had seen you, but he had received an invitation to your engagement party. He wasn't intending to go. He didn't want to have to wish you well as your wedding drew closer. In fact, he was dreading the day he saw an invitation to the actual ceremony. 

But he ended up at the Hard Deck, and he knew you were inside before he even walked through the door. 

You looked gorgeous in a sundress and denim jacket, and he wished he had never gone away for those six months. He wished he had made you his. 

"Bradley," you whispered softly to him as he walked toward the pool table. 

He paused and smiled at you, even though it hurt him so much. "Hey, Honey."

Your lips parted, and Bradley was ready for you to scold him again. Ready to hear you tell him not to call you that. But you just said, "It's good to see you."

He nodded and headed to where Nat was waving a pool cue at him. "Me and you against Harvard and Glory."

"Sure," Bradley grunted, and he watched Harvard reach across Glory's chest to rack the balls. He shared a look with Nat who looked as annoyed as he felt. 

"Ready?" Nat asked, and Bradley saw Harvard's eyes dip to Glory's body before he nodded.

"Your break, Phoenix," he said, standing so close to Glory, Bradley couldn't tell where his arm ended and hers began. 

Every time Bradley looked toward the bar, you were already looking at him. He kind of wished you would look at your fiancé and notice how much of a scumbag he was. But how could you not know? You were smart. You were perfect.

When Bradley headed out for the night, leaving you to deal with sloppy, drunk Brigham, you let your fingers brush against his arm. 

He came to a halt next to you, the noise and the crowd pushing him closer to you. 

"We could be together...."

You just tucked your hand into your pocket and shook your head. So he left. 

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

Bradley wasn't planning on coming. The party had already started before he even left his house, but since he was pacing around and making himself feel sick, he decided to go.

Seeing you at your engagement party, happy and next to Harvard would help him put his feelings all to rest. 

So Bradley drove to the restaurant where you used to work. He walked in and sat at a table with Nat. 

"Didn't think you'd be here," his best friend said softly. "If you decide you need to leave, let me know and I'll go with you."

"Thanks, Nat," Bradley managed to say. "But I think this might help me in the long run."

When he saw you walk into the room hand in hand with Harvard, Bradley couldn't help but notice how sad you looked. Your eyes found him immediately, and wanted to wrap himself around you. Take you away from here. 

"I can't," he muttered to Nat and went to the bar that was set up in the corner of the room. He took a deep breath and asked the bartender for a whiskey, neat. He could hear all of the happy conversations and see everyone socializing around him, but he shouldn't have come. 

He downed his drink at the bar and was about to order another one when he heard you. "I'm going to step outside for some air, if you want to join me."

Bradley watched your retreating form as you slipped out through the French doors onto the balcony and out of sight. He set his empty glass on the bar and followed you. As much as he wished he could stop himself, he knew he couldn't.

"Honey," he murmured when he saw you leaning against the balcony railing, looking out at the water. 

Bradley knew he looked like shit right now. He hadn't been sleeping, and he was miserable. But you were looking at him like he was lovely. Like he was yours. 

"I'm sorry, Bradley," you whispered as you turned to look up at him. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea someone like you would want to be...serious with me."

He could feel his brow scrunch up. "What do you mean... someone like me?"

"Oh... you're just... so sweet and handsome. Smart. Kind. I thought you and I were just hooking up. You called us friends with benefits. I didn't know... But I thought about you, too. I thought about that last night before you left for deployment. You whispered something to me, when you were falling asleep. I thought maybe you were dreaming, or maybe I imagined it."

"Honey." His voice was straining. It was hard to breathe. "I wasn't dreaming, and you didn't imagine it."

Your eyes were on his, and your lips were parted, silently begging him to say it again. He'd never make you beg for anything. He'd never treat you the way Harvard does.

"I love you," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed. Your breathing became shallow, and a sound halfway between a laugh and a cry escaped your lips. 

"Sweetcheeks! You coming? Time for speeches."

Harvard was beckoning from the doorway, and you were frantically scanning Bradley's face. He wanted to reach for you, but you let a neutral expression fall into place, and then you followed Harvard back inside. 

Bradley took a few minutes to himself, looking out at the water. He'd made a huge mistake with you. He should have never called you a friend with benefits. He should have asked you to wait for him; it certainly seemed now like you would have. 

He was afraid he was never going to get over you.

With one more deep breath, he walked back inside just as you stood up at your table with a microphone in hand, and he dropped back into his seat next to Nat.

"Thank you all for being here today," you said, but your voice sounded thin and tinny, so unlike you. "I just wanted to say that I can't wait...." You were turning to look at Harvard where he was sitting next to you with a big grin on his face. "I can't wait to marry.... Well, Brigham and I are just so.... We're excited."

Bradley's heart was racing. He couldn't stand listening to you talking about someone else. He needed to leave. He was searching for the best escape route, one where he wouldn't completely disrupt the evening.

But when you cleared your throat, your gaze settled on him, and you smiled softly. "I just need to say something," you said into the microphone with more conviction. You turned toward your fiance. "Brig, I can't marry you. I'm sorry." The microphone hit the table at the same second that Bradley launched out of his seat. He watched you take your ring off and hand it to Harvard who looked like he was in shock.

Then you were moving, weaving between tables and heading his way. You seemed a little hesitant now, your eyes wide as you looked at him. Bradley never wanted you to hesitate with him again.

"Honey," he called out, and suddenly your hand was grasping his as you pulled him outside with you.

Bradley ran with you down the steps and across the sand, your laughter lighting him up from the inside. 

"Bradley!" you gasped, once you had reached the parking lot. You were in his arms now, your fingers in his hair as you kissed him and smiled against his lips. "I love you, too."

"Let's get out of here, Honey," he said, scooping you up and carrying you toward his Bronco. You were kissing along his jaw and whispering his name against his skin. "I have a lot of making up to do. Gonna make you mine."

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

Thanks for reading! And thanks to all my friends who helped me along the way with this one! Hope you enjoyed it!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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@chassy21

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[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]

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

[thedroneranger]

I think I was distracted by the other cockpit shots 😅

@roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32

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

[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

[bobbyfloyd]

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