#hannix imagine

[ryebecca]

"oh, this is the night, it's a beautiful night, and we call it Bella Notte. look at the skies, they have stars in their eyes, on this lovely Bella Notte. side by side with your loved one, you'll find enchantment here. the night will weave its magic spell when the one you love is near." 🐶 👩🏻‍❤️‍👨🏼 ✨ | (the lady and the tramp x hannix au for @roosterforme)

[phxoftheashes]

What I would have given for this to have been the actual movie scene..

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Firebird

A Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace Origin Story

Slight Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace / Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

Description: Natasha Trace is used to being marveled and stared at. She's the only woman in her flight class. For the most part, the staring only leads to occasional requests to join the remainder of her cohort for drinks at the nearest bar to base. She always refuses. Her COs have enough to say about her without resorting to the usual criticisms of her gender, which going to a bar would garner.

But Natasha's only human. When she seeks out a bar to get drunk where nobody knows her name, she's surprised to find the one man she never wanted to see off base dropping into the seat next to her. The conversation that follows changes her life and gives her a callsign.

Warnings: Mysogyny, Discussions of Strength and Power as a woman in a male-dominated field

A/N: Hi everyone! Nice to see you here! I wrote this fic for @thedroneranger's Pick Your Poison Challenge to accompany her fabulous Phoenix Cocktail Moodboard Grit & Glam. I wanted to explore a headcanon of how Jake gave Phoenix her callsign and ended up venturing slightly into Hannix territory. I hope you all love it! The italicized lyrics at the end are from the song Firebird by Galantis.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

“Oh, come on, Trace.” This, she’s used to. It’s what she gets when she’s the only woman in her flight school class. “It’s just a few drinks tonight!”

It’s the overly insistent, ridiculously charming blond man who’s asking her that Natasha’s not used to. Seresin, at least she thinks that’s his name, asks her to go out with the rest of the class every night despite her refusals. 

“It’s not happening, Seresin.” She keeps her tone light and her eyes on the NATOPS she’s rifling through and making notes on. After all, there’s no denying that Seresin is easy on the eyes, with his green eyes and shining blond hair, broad shoulders, and muscular physique. Maybe in another life, she’d have fallen for the lines he feeds girls at the bar hook, line, and sinker. But in this life, she wants to be a Naval Aviator, wants to be the best of the best. No six-foot blond is going to stop her, not when she’s so close.

“C’mon, Trace. It’s just one night of drinks.” He sounds oddly frustrated at her lack of response. “You don’t have to be so frigid all the time, you know? What’s one round of drinks amongst friends and colleagues?”

“Well, Seresin,” Her voice is sardonic and a little sarcastic as she packs up her notebook and her NATOPS. “There’s nothing wrong with a round of drinks amongst friends and colleagues. But you’re neither of them. So I have to say no. Goodnight, Seresin.”

Her voice is just loud enough, cutting enough, that the others hear from the huddle they're in on the other side of the room. They're ooh-ing and aww-ing and ribbing Seresin with every iota of their limited intelligence as she sweeps out of the room. Of course, Natasha also hears the way one of the others, Williams or maybe Monroe, calls her an ice-hearted bitch, but that's nothing she hasn't heard before. Seresin is awfully quiet, and she's sure he would normally have joined in on their censure of her if she hadn't seen the small flicker of hurt that wafted through those crystalline green eyes as she swept out of the room.

She can't figure out why he's so adamant about her socializing, though. It’s not as if Natasha is a stranger to having fun. Once upon a time, when she was a young tomboy, she used to sneak out to bars and other unsavory establishments and party all night long. It had been fun roaming around wild in the hot, sticky San Diego summers, dangling out of an old Pontiac Firebird. She’d slept half-naked under the stars, smoked hand-rolled cigarettes, and drunk too much alcohol. Of course, joining the Navy had put a stop to that kind of reckless, foolish, youthful abandonment. 

It still doesn’t explain Seresin’s behavior. He’s never once attempted to be cordial or nice or even kind for the entire time she’s known him. All Natasha knows is that Jake Seresin is filled with the same urge to be the best that she is. It’s a conundrum that she turns over in her mind late that night and in any spare moment in which her brain isn’t being crammed full of more flying techniques and NATOPS sections. The same conundrum seems to be captivating Seresin as well. Each day for their classes, he takes the seat behind or near hers and spends the time boring a hole into the back of her regulation slicked-back bun or into the side of her face. She spends the week with the heat of his gaze prickling across the back of her neck and distracting her thoroughly.

That’s the only reason why she fucks up on Friday afternoon. It’s supposed to be an easy maneuver. It’s one she’s had swimming in front of her eyes whether she’s awake or asleep. But she messed up. Others in her cohort messed up on the hop, too. But of course, it’s Natasha who’s standing at parade rest facing down their CO as he spits in her face all of the reasons why a woman isn’t talented or determined enough to fly a fighter jet. It’s the snickering Natasha can hear in the background from the others, which has her spine straightening. It shouldn’t be so common to be lambasted over every mistake just because of your gender. But there’s a reason why so few women in the armed forces are aviators. There’s a reason why Natasha has faced only one of these particular dressing-downs only once in her career prior to today. But nothing her CO is saying can even touch the dressing down she’s giving herself.

When she’s dismissed, she stomps her way into the ladies’ locker room and tries her best not to sob where anyone important can hear it. The deluge of hot water drums over her head and beats her stiff muscles into some form of flexibility, but it doesn’t beat the whiff of failure from her skin. She stands under the deluge until her fingers prune and the water cools. She’s shivering and shuddering as she towels off and pulls on her clothes. But the clothes she pulls out of her gym bag aren’t jeans and a T-shirt but a sundress. Natasha slams her forehead against the locker door because this is yet another symptom of her distraction. This was the dress she was supposed to wear to brunch with college friends in town. Not the outfit she wants to walk out of base wearing. At least she’s managed to pack the matching heels as well.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha hears wolf-whistles a-plenty as she clacks her way out to her car. The comments make her angrier and feel even worse. At one point in time, sometime between the beginning and end of that long, unfulfilling shower, she’d made up her mind to drive home and collapse onto her sofa and maybe drink an entire bottle of wine. But the more the pigs she has to fly with notice her uncharacteristic attire, the more her mind changes. Now, all she wants is alcohol, enough to drown out her thoughts and to lift her mood. It might be time to bring back the wild little thing who’d run circles around folks back in San Diego.

The bar she ends up at a couple of hours later is what people would pick for a night out on the town. In truth, Natasha had two major criteria for picking this place. It’s not within five miles of the base, and it serves an elderflower and gin flaming cocktail. Something about it feels fitting to her current state of mind.

The sky has darkened in the time between when Natasha sat down and now. Natasha’s not sure how long it’s been, but she feels a million times better than she did before. The bartender was very kind and plied her with round after round of Phoenix cocktails all afternoon long. It’s just her luck that she’s tilting a drink between her fingers, watching the pinkish-purple shimmering liquid dance in the light, when a body drops heavily onto the barstool next to her. It's a bar, so obviously, bodies have been dropping into the seat next to her as the night progresses. But this particular body is wearing a very recognizable cologne and speaking in a very recognizable tenor to the bartender.

“Can I get a whiskey on ice for myself and another one of those flaming things for the pretty lady next to me?” 

“It’s not a flaming thing.” Natasha's words are slurring but still sharp as she rotates on the fiddly little base of the barstool and faces exactly who she thought she'd be facing - Jake Seresin. Her voice is gritty with the burn of over-proofed smooth liquor as she responds.

“It's a Phoenix cocktail. What are you doing here, anyway, Seresin? I didn't think fancy bars were your idea of fun.”

“Mmm, they’re usually not.” There isn’t a bite to his words tonight. “I like my bars to come with their own history, usually.”

He pushes the Phoenix cocktail he'd ordered over to her and watches, enraptured, as the bartender snuffs out the flames.

“You don’t seem the type, Trace, to get rip-roaring drunk in a bar all by your lonesome.” 

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Natasha is ginger as she sips from the warm glass, careful not to scald her mouth on the flame-kissed surface.

“You did.” He purses his plush lips, rolling the whiskey from the sip he just took on his tongue with his eyes lidded in the lowlights of the bar. He looks like a man who has cultivated that expression solely for the purpose of making a lady weak at the knees, not that Natasha would ever call one of his usual types a lady. His pink tongue slips out of his mouth and swipes away a droplet of the amber-colored liquid. He leans forward, gently tucking a loose tendril of hair behind Natasha’s ear. 

“When you told me you’d only have drinks with your friends and colleagues.” He leans in closer until all Natasha Trace can hear is Jake. All of a sudden he seems to surround her with his presence. She can smell the smokey whiskey on his breath, the rich scent of his cologne, and the gentle scent of soap crowding out the scents of the bar. And then there’s the heat of his skin, elusively, unbearably comforting against the bare skin of her shoulders.

It feels good being this close to somebody else. But Natasha can’t let Jake Seresin, of all people, know just how lonely it feels to never be able to let her guard down. He can’t know how much it will set her apart from the others in their cohort above and beyond the way her gender already does.

“I did.” Her voice comes out in a whisper so quiet Natasha’s not sure he can hear.

“Yet you’re out here drinking something purple and pink and ridiculously sweet, all while looking like there is something you’d desperately like to forget.” He settles back in his stool, a long leg hooked on the footrest of her stool as he peers knowingly at her. “Are you trying to forget the dressing down Smith gave you today?”

Natasha shrugs, alcohol making her limbs uncooperative. “Others made mistakes, too. Why were mine so severe that they deserved a public audience? Or if they were severe, surely someone else had made a mistake equally as severe and deserved the same treatment?”

She sips on her drink, trying to ignore how her eyes sting, and her throat is tight. “Of course,” she rasps after swallowing, “it’s not like the perfect Jake Seresin knows how to make a mistake.” Natasha realizes that she’s murmuring that fact like it’s a secret, leaning into his lushly scented space like she craves the nearness of his skin. Maybe she’s already drunk too many of these pretty little drinks for her sanity?

“I make mistakes, Natasha.” He’s just as close as she is to him; the two of them nearly braced against each other like they’d collapse, marionettes without strings, if they weren’t so close and if they couldn’t prop each other up.

“Who said you can call me Natasha?” Her words are as spicy as the sips of top-shelf liquor dripping down her throat, but her smile is as sweet as the syrup of a maraschino cherry. He chuckles, dimples on full display as he tugs her stool closer to compensate for her listing sway on her tri-legged perch.

“What made you start drinking these lovely Phoenix cocktails, hmm?” 

Oh, the room seems to be swimming a bit more. Jake’s so close Natasha can see motes of amber in the mercurial stormy green of his eyes.

“How much do you know about phoenixes, Seresin?”

“No matter how much I know, I get the feeling you’re going to tell me anyway, Natasha.”

She snorts, swigging back the last bit of her drink, running the tip of her finger along the rim of her glass, mesmerized by the sparkling residue left behind on her skin.

“Phoenixes are mythical beasts found in Greek, Roman, and Egyptian mythology. Of course, you probably know how they set themselves on fire and are reborn from the flames. As a result of this imagery, they were associated with immortality.” Huddled in against the counter as they are, Natasha can’t say if there is anyone else even in the room.

“But they’re more than that to me.” Her inhale is shaky even as she sips from the cup of water, cold and crisp, which has suddenly appeared at her elbow. “It’s probably painful to be burned alive and then reborn as a chick. But it also takes a lot of strength.”

To her surprise, Jake is still listening, one long-fingered hand tapping at the water glass in her sweat-damp palms when she pauses, prompting her to drink sip after sip.

“I…” She swallows with a mouth as dry as the Sahara Desert. “I, well, I hope to somehow have that same strength. So when a day like today happens, I find a bar that serves Phoenixes, drink them all night until the sting of failure and my despair and my loneliness wash away.”

“Is it working tonight?” 

Natasha hums as she drinks yet another sip from her never-ending, always full glass. “I’m not sure it ever really did.” 

“For what it’s worth, we both know you weren’t making more mistakes than any of those other idiots we fly with.” His smile is special and soft, filling the cavity of her chest with a softly flickering warmth at odds with the sharp burn of the liquor. “You’re good at what you do, Natasha. You could fly circles around all of them. You fly circles around me, too.”

Natasha can’t believe what she’s hearing. There’s no way Jake Seresin is admitting that Natasha Trace can be better than he is. She stands without realizing, her legs about as sturdy as those of a newborn giraffe. All of the alcohol rushes to her head with a vengeance.

“Have you closed out your tab?” She nods, desperately trying to keep a hold of her swimming head and her roiling stomach. She staggers her way out of the bar, trying desperately to navigate to the Uber app without stumbling over her high heels or face-planting into another of the patrons. An arm wraps around her waist before she can even get to the doors.

“C’mon, Natasha.” Her feet are steadier due to his support. “I’ve got you, darling.”

The endearment, in an undertone colored by a Texan twang, sounds tenderly fond as it’s rasped into her ears. The air is cool outside the bar as she staggers to a stop against a truck in the parking lot. There’s a click as the doors unlock, and when Jake opens the door, the step is so high that when she lifts her leg up, she nearly falls into the gravel, so impaired is her sense of balance.

“I’ve gotcha, darling.” Those same big hands brace her under her knees and behind her shoulders as they heft her into the seat of the truck. Sitting in the cab, she’s even more surrounded by his scent. But he doesn’t close the door immediately. Instead, Jake Seresin unlaces each of her strappy heels and sets them in the footwell of her seat. His fingers, warm and calloused, massage firmly at her stiff, aching arches until she feels like putty in his hands.

“You’re pretty good at that, Seresin.” He smiles again, a devastatingly tender quirk of his lips that barely creates that dimple in his cheek she’s quickly coming to adore.

“I like working with my hands.” It seems like he’s downplaying the true reason. This humble side of Jake Seresin is something she’s never seen before, something she likes. She fists her hands in the collar of his soft pullover and tugs him up until his arms are braced on the seat on either side of her, and his face is inches from her own. Thinking back on it, Natasha’s not sure who made the first move. All she remembers is the taste of whiskey on his tongue as her fingers grasp at the soft curls against the back of his neck. His mouth feels divine, thin lips just the right level of wet and soft as they move against hers. There’s heat making her flush as his hands cup the back of her neck.

When Jake Seresin pulls away with a question in his eyes, Natasha’s almost sure she can guess the words about to leave his lips. It’s going to be some variation of ‘Would you like to come home with me’, no doubt. But instead, he presses more of those warm, tender kisses across her bare shoulders, throat, collarbones, and cheeks. When he presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, Natasha’s eyes flutter closed.

“Let me take you home, darling.” 

Those words, in a hauntingly tender tone, stick in her mind all weekend long, even when she’s hungover and curled up under her sheets. It feels like something has changed between her and Jake Seresin, inexplicably and totally. Or maybe it’s the sense of confidence Jake Seresin has instilled in her. One night, a few drinks, and his presence are all she needs to boost her mood? It’s ridiculous. Walking into the classroom on Monday morning at 0700 hours sharp and seeing Seresin laughing with the others like nothing has happened feels almost like a slap to the face. He doesn’t look at her or speak to her. Natasha’s sure the Jake of that hazy dream-like Friday evening was only looking for one thing, which he didn’t get when he needed to babysit her drunk ass.

By the time she’s in her flight suit and kitted out with her helmet in hand, she's ready to smoke every man she has to fly with, especially one Jake Seresin. Sure enough, Natasha’s cold, calculated, and on her game that day. She doesn’t make a single mistake. Of course, Smith doesn’t so much as nod in her direction, but it’s enough to hear the men grumble as her flight is used as the exemplar for their hop. When they’re dismissed, nobody tells her goodbye. Monroe and Williams are still whining and moaning about her success and their subsequent dressing down from Smith. But Jake Seresin’s smiling at her, that crooked tender grin, and saying, “See you tomorrow, Phoenix!”

Under the stars awaken To the sound of a firebird

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @callsignspitfire @roosterforme @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87

[viximillarumvitarum]

And with that, the ship set sail.

Top Gun: Maverick (2022) dir. Joseph Kosinski

[myfaveficrecs]

Creator Spotlight

@cherrycola27 has an amazing masterlist that will keep you entertained for days. I can't pick a favorite, honestly but for Rooster, Hangman, and Bob girls - head over and dive in.

A Little Q & A:

1: What is your favorite thing you've written or made? My favorite thing I have ever written has to be my series "Till Death?" It was such an emotional piece that explored life, love, betrayal, and second chances.

2: Top 3 favorite creators you want people to check out? My top three favorite creaters are @thedroneranger, @roosterforme, and @bradshawsbaby. Jay from @thedroneranger wrote my absolute favorite Rooster one shot, "You Get Me Closer" She typically writes for Hangman, but I reread that story at least once a week. If you haven't read her series "To Do List" or "Beached" do yourself a favor and do it. Em, from @roosterforme has never written something I didn't love. Between Baby Girl, Sugar, and Beer Boy, and her new single mom x Rooster fic, she's keeping up fed. @bradshawsbaby was one of the first creators I followed in the Fandom. She has written for Mrs. Bradshaw and Rooster, as well as Jake x Phoenix, and I am a diehard Hannix shipper. She's currently been giving us some Rhett Abbott content, and I have shed several tears of her "Letters to My Love" Bob series.

3: An idea you have for a future work that people should look out for? Up next on the horizon I'm going to be finishing my series "To Hec and Back" I have three new series in the works "Elementary," "Sins of the Father," and "Whiskey, Neat" I'm also celebrating 1, 000 with my TOPGUN: Taylor's Version Challenge so I have a few one shots coming out with that!

Tags:

@roosterscock

@roosterforme  

@bradshawsbitch

@jupitercomet 

@seresinhangmanjake

@fandomxpreferences  

@wildbornsiren  

@babyrooster

@ohtobeleah  

@callsign-marlie  

@callsign-milano  

@oncasette  

@topguncortez  

@topgun-imagines  

@roleycoleyreccenter  

@call-sign-shark  

@cherrycola27  

@thedroneranger  

@notroosterbradshaw

@almostgenerallyalways  

@roosterbruiser  

@teacupsandtopgun  

@endofdays56 

@princessphilly 

@wolfmoonmusic 

@phoenix1388 

@wintercap89 

@timbradfordsboot 

@je-suis-prest-rachel 

@adaydreamaway08 

@flowers-and-fichte 

@mak-32 

@greatszu 

[autumntouched]

Ode to Phoenix | Masterlist

My notifications are telling me that our girl Phoenix/Natasha does not get enough love and what better month than February to show it to her?

Even though Phoenix hates Valentine’s Day in my headcanon (maybe one day someone might get her to budge on that), she’s about to get 28 days of an ode to Phoenix ❤️✈️

Asks are open: send requests, share love, adore our queen 👑 anything re: Phoenix is welcome

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for daily updates! xx

Day 1 - Phoenix’s ideal date night, Natasha’s favorite wines

Day 2 - Phoenix has trouble letting her hair down

Day 3 - Phoenix first dreams of becoming a pilot

Day 4 - Phoenix and Hangman discuss marriage proposals

Day 5 - Hangman proposes to Phoenix

Day 6 - you look so good it hurts (in my favorite t-shirt) by @melodiousoblivionao3​

Day 7 - Phoenix headcanon - Enneagram Type 7

Day 8 - Phoenix dreams of becoming a pilot excerpt

Day 9 - Why I love Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Day 10 - At Midnight, Talk to Me Ch. 15, the shortest distance between two points by @goddesspharo​

Day 11 - Phoenix meets Hangman’s family at a military base open house

Day 12 - Phoenix and Hangman watch the Super Bowl (NSFW, 18+)

Day 13 - Phoenix takes Rooster home as her boyfriend for the first time

Day 14 - Hangman has a Valentine’s Day gift for Phoenix

Day 15 - Phoenix and her college roommate have a night out with tequila

Day 15 - Phoenix, Hangman, Rooster poly Valentine’s Day 

Day 16 - On Phoenix being a role model

Day 17 - Phoenix and Hangman make a discovery in bed (NSFW, 18+)

Day 18 - Rooster eats the last of Phoenix’s Girl Scout cookies

Day 19 - Phoenix gets passed over for an assignment

Day 20 - Phoenix and Hangman discover her baby bump

Day 21 - Maternity flight suits for female aviators

Day 22 - Crocodile Rock by @topguncortez​

Day 23 - Phoenix Fics by @topguncortez​

Day 24 - Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x deaf!female!reader imagine by @callsign-phoenix​

Day 25 - Phoenix and Hangman get married Pt. I

Day 26 - Phoenix and Hangman get married Pt. II

Day 27 - Phoenix and Hangman get married Pt. III

The Hannix Football Rivalry AU kind of took on a life of its own. Here’s the Masterlist for those fics

[goddesspharo]

Hannix appreciation

I love your stories on AO3 you honestly characterised the relationship between Jake and Nat so well in every fic you write! They are so delightful to read 🥰

Would you ever do one based around accidental pregnancy and the two of them developing an official relationship through each month until baby arrives? I can imagine him being unsure but as her bump grows Jake fluffing round her 24/7 🥴🤣

What a lovely message to wake up to, anon! Thank you! I'm glad you like my portrayal of these antagonistic dweebs and what happens when they start getting real!

I never say never, but I'm not a huge fan of the accidental pregnancy leading to a real relationship trope. Mostly because it always follows the same beats and there's very little room for variation. It feels limiting in a way that other tried and true plots aren't. Also the temptation to go too sweet with it is too high! We'd all get cavities. (That said, it doesn't stop me from watching movies with it though! There was a time years ago when HBO inexplicably played How To Be Single all the time and I died every time I caught this scene.)

But in a hypothetical situation where Hannix were having an accidental baby, I bet Phoenix would 100% get increasingly rage blackout-y as her pregnancy progressed and threaten to eviscerate everyone once she got grounded. Whenever she walked into the kitchen and Hangman helpfully pointed out what fruit size her fetus was that day, Nat would threaten to kill him with a melon baller while Jake laughed as he handed her a homemade kale smoothie he saw on a Goop blog post before suggesting prenatal goat yoga to help her de-stress.

[melodiousoblivionao3]

I’m bored! If you want Hannix, RoyKeeley, TedBecca, or any of the couples in my Bridgerton verse for these send the number and the couple and I’ll do my best :)

Spring OTP Prompts

Making flower crowns and weaving flowers into one another’s hair

Jars of fresh jam

Dinner with friends

Listening to the sound of thunder with a cup of tea in hand

Morning sun

“What are you staring at?”

Thrift shopping

Birds nest

Afternoon picnic by a stream

Lavender kiss

Freshly baked bread

Walk through the woods

Fairies

A new pair of boots

Blowing bubbles

Working in the garden all day and curling up together that night on the couch

Caught in a sudden rainstorm

Sleeping with the windows open

A warm plate of cookies

Jumping in puddles

Bunnies

Royalty au

Spring cleaning

“I didn’t mean it like that”

A yellow balloon

Cherry blossoms

Allergies

Spring cottage

A bike ride down the lane

“I really missed this”

🌸🌱✨☔️🌷

[imdonnalynn]

Because you love Hannix like I love Hannix, I figured you might have fun with these questions:

1. First date: who asks, how long before the other person agrees and where do they go? Bonus points if you say how you think the day went.

2. Do they tell Javy when they start dating or does he find out themselves?

3. How does Rooster find out? Any punches thrown lol?

4. Who says I love you first and in what context? (I always imagined it happened after a close callor a visit to medical). How is it received?

I think I could ask 75 more questions but I’ll limit to five: 5. How many kids do the Seresins have?

First Date?

Who asks? - For me, Jake, he considers himself a gentlemen so he would want to be the first to do the asking, open doors, under formal circumstances stand when she sits or stands from the table.

How long before the other person agrees and where do they go? - It takes Natasha...surprisingly only till the end of the day. And fuck no they don't go to the Hard Deck for their actual date (they actually go after). No, a date between Jake and Natasha would be personal so I'm saying it's gonna be a home cooked meal at one of their places.

How did the day go? - The day has it's ups and downs for both of them. Yet by the end they feel there is something there and decide to entertain it. This puts Jake in a whole new headspace. It will take longer to catch up with Nat (yes I think she's even more dense than he is when it comes to seeing something right in your face)

Do they tell Javy when they start dating or does he find out themselves? - You know good and damn well Javy is gonna know anything Jake is doing, they're best friends. Plus, I believe there's history between these three just like there's history between Jake, Bradley and Natasha. Javy doesn't pry, but Jake doesn't tell Javy anything too personal.

How does Rooster find out? Any punches thrown lol? - Bradley finds out before the end of the day from scuttle, and he breaks whatever is in his hand but doesn't say anything.

Who says I love you first and in what context? How is it received? - Jake, hands down, he would tell her when she would need to hear it the most. In a moment of so much importance hearing those very words from his mouth will pull her out of whatever she is buried in. She will cling to him, she will feel more whole.

How many kids do the Seresin's have? - 5, 3 boys, 2 girls.

[at-thestillpoint]

for the fanfic end of year ask: 15, 18, 24

[eoy asks!]

15. something you learned this year

2023 is the year I learned to stop worrying and go with the flow. I am, by nature, a very Type A person—I must have a plan, I must know what's going to happen (see also: my personal policy on spoilers. That is, I need them). This tendency has been counter-productive to my writing in years past, in that I used to perseverate over a single sentence that didn't sit right with me or I'd stop writing until I knew exactly how I was getting where I wanted to end. Something clicked this year where I just started writing past those sentences or that need for a plan, and lo and behold, I started finishing things! And they were decent! And I could more easily get the sentence to sit right in the editing process!

18. current number of wips

Still just the same two for the last too many months. I refuse to start anything else until I finish them!

24. favorite fic you read this year

I've read so much good fic this year that I only finished six actual books. (I just checked: my AO3 history for 2023 is 20 pages long.) I could not possibly pick a favorite! Here are a few that have stuck with me/made me think and feel/challenged me as a reader and a writer:

theogony by clarewithnoi (a truly transportive Jily Outlander in Ancient Greece AU)

The Last Enemy series by CH_Darling (an intricate imagining of the Marauders era that's everything I've ever wanted)

everything by @goddesspharo, the OT3 fic by @megalong, Talk to Me by @autumntouched, the whole wide world of Hannix (bless everyone who writes for a rarepair)

[withahappyrefrain]

I want to take a moment to send lots of love to every single person who has ever taken the time to comment on one of my stories or send fun asks to my inbox. Whether it was anonymous or not, I cherish every single interaction and I hope you all know that! On days when I’ve felt really down, your love and enthusiasm for the Bradshaws or Hannix or Bob & Peach or Rhett & Honeybee or any of my other stories has lifted my spirits in ways you can’t even imagine! So thank you, thank you, thank you! ♥️

- @bradshawsbaby 💕

Every positive interaction counts! And you deserve all the love!!

[missathlete31]

Reposting to inspire myself to write the conclusion to this!

Someone In Your Corner

Summary: Hangman, struggling to deal with his nightmares after the mission, goes for a run in the California heat. When he gets himself into trouble he finds a surprising ally on his side.

Aka if Maverick is MavDad meet DaggerMom

Hey look, yet another Jake Seresin Whump/Angst fic….. also known as the only thing I know how to write lol! Enjoy!

Two week after the Uranium mission and Jake "Hangman" Seresin was struggling. The Navy had given them all a month's worth of leave, a ridiculously long time in Jake's opinion but extremely sought after for all the others. There was a mandatory week of debriefs and discussions, most of which Jake hovered in the back and only answered when he was addressed directly, but then they were free to go. The whole squadron seemed to have gotten plane tickets to head back home, the suicide mission making a lot of them place things in new perspective. Jake of course would rather perform ten suicide missions than even think about going home to Texas. Javy had invited him back to New Orleans with him and his family but Jake declined. He loved the Machados; he spent enough holidays over there to think of them as the closest thing he'd ever get to a real family, but he knew Javy was still shaken up from his G-Loc incident and the mission in general. He deserved a chance to decompress with his loved ones instead of trying to entertain Jake.

So Jake waved his best friend off at the airport on the third day after the start of their official leave and went back to the barracks to find a notice on his door. It seemed that the temporary living quarters they were supplied for training was being revoked now that everything was over. Jake had vaguely heard one of the others talking about it at the bar but he didn't realize it applied to those that weren't going home as well. He assumed he would be allowed to hang around base, maybe convince Admiral Simpson (or at least the more agreeable Admiral Bates) to let him jump into a few hops to keep his skills sharp. Those plans were scrapped though as both Admirals informed him in no uncertain terms that none of the Daggers would be allowed back in the air until they were given the all clear from both medical and psych. Jake was already cleared on the medical end but all psych evals were to be conducted after the team returned from leave. He wanted to push to get his moved up but Cyclone only gave him that un-amused look that he usually reserved for Maverick, and Jake figured it wasn't worth the fight (he was still on shaky ground for disobeying direct orders on the carrier that day- and for getting the rest of the flight crew to go along with him).

So now not only was Jake alone on North Island, he was also forced to find new housing. With no real other options, he checked into a random motel that was far from luxurious with its outdated decor and questionable activities for it's by the hour patrons. Jake found he didn't mind though as long as he used his own sheets. Also besides a few quick visitors a few doors down, Jake was virtually on his own in his section. This was a huge benefit for the blonde pilot as he found himself dealing with an added difficulty now that the mission was over: debilitating nightmares.

It was embarrassing for him to admit but Jake had always struggled with nightmares. As a child in an abusive household he was always so tense and on edge, especially at night after his father had had a couple of drinks in him, that he found his dreams were filled with running away from monsters that looked vaguely like his parents until he woke up screaming. After receiving punishments for waking anyone up with his pathetic cries, Jake learned to muffle his terror to much quieter levels, though the nightmares always held a grip on him for those formable years. As he got older and into his teen years, Jake's real world seemed to be worse than any dream ever could be and sadly that was what quashed his night terrors for a few years at least. When he left home and joined the Navy he felt freer than he ever had in the world and he finally learned what the term 'sleep like a baby' really meant.

It didn't last for long though because after his first confirmed kill, Jake's nightmares came back. He was forever dreaming of being back in his plane, sometimes shooting down the Bogey, other times the Bogey catching him first. He had nightmares where he shot his wingman down instead, his whole squadron condemning him for the action. Other times it would be his squad shot him down because they were protecting themselves from Hangman leaving them like his call-sign dictated. These dreams circled through Jake's sleep cycle for weeks until Javy caught on before he was sent to ship out again and noticed the dark bags under his best friend's eyes. Though Javy knew better than to push Jake towards any sort of professional therapy from the Navy that could ultimately keep him grounded, he did force his best friend to talk to him more about what was troubling him and to find healthy outlets for his anxiety, fear, and guilt. Jake's favorite method became running.

Jake already enjoyed running from when he was a kid and needed an escape at home so using it to relax from work stress as well came fairly easy. He took to jogging around bases in the morning, night or whenever he just felt a little overwhelmed. Javy would join him if he was able, though normally he cut out about half the miles while jokingly calling Jake a robot for being able to run so much. It was therapeutic and it worked, especially when he ran at night, as Jake felt his body become so tired he went off to sleep without any dreams at all.

But then this mission happened.

First it was Coyote's G-loc; the sounds of Maverick trying to stir his best friend back to consciousness before he crashed into a mountain staying with Jake even during waking hours. In dreams it was worse, Maverick never getting tone in time, Coyote's scream over the radio before he burned up in his jet. Jake would wake up each time with tears in his eyes and would struggle to not call his best friend right there and then. Jake also dreamed of the bird strike. Though he pretended to be indifferent, he really did care about Phoenix, she was one of his oldest friends, dating back to his Flight School days. That nightmarish day, after being so close to losing Javy, to then hear her and Bob forced to eject, it broke something in Jake. His dreams featured the two not ejecting in time, or sometimes different pilots were up there but with the same results. The worst nightmare was when Jake was in the air with them and he listened to Phoenix scream at him that because he left them hanging, the birds hit their plane instead of his. Both Bob and Phoenix's last words were wishing it was Jake instead. Maverick would share the sentiment on the radio as the two planes watched the other go down. When Jake woke from that particular dream, he usually felt so gutted all he could do was sit up in silence.

There were moments from the actual mission that attributed to his night terrors as well of course. First it was Dagger one going down, the others blaming Jake for not being good enough that Maverick had to take the spot of team leader to ensure the others survived and therefore sacrificed himself. Then he would hear Dagger Two going down and there was the guilt of having Bradshaw die after all the mean things Jake had said and done to him. But the worst was Jake's rescue of Maverick and Rooster. Jake couldn't count the times he would close his eyes (both awake and asleep) and see the damn missile that was headed right for that old F-14. He never told anyone outside of his debriefs with the Admirals but that missile was shot and deployed and not even seconds away from killing both Captain Mitchell and Bradshaw. He had had no time to spare.

Every night during the week of debriefs Jake would dream of being too late, of watching that missile kill his CO and his wingman in a fiery blaze as bright as the sun. Jake would be forced to call on the radio that he hadn’t reached them in time, would land on the carrier not to celebration and hugs but dirty looks and tears. One night the nightmare was so bad, felt so real, that Jake actually called Rooster just to hear his voice. The groggy other pilot thought it was some kind of joke and didn't respond incredibly kind but Jake hung up the phone with tears of relief in his eyes anyway. He would take a sarcastic Rooster over a dead one any day.

Last night Jake dreamed of the man he shot down. His second confirmed kill but it wasn't any easier. He dreamed of the man's family, his children growing up fatherless like Rooster did. A whole family lineage cursing him for taking away the man they loved most. When he woke up Jake only had a few seconds before he was puking in his toilet, no chance of falling back to sleep again. His count of hours slept in the week at a sickening level. He knew he should be worried, knew that he should address his problems with someone but everyone else was dealing and he didn’t understand how he couldn’t. He wasn’t one of the Daggers, he wasn’t the one completing the suicide course. He didn’t go into G-Loc or get hit with a bird strike. He wasn’t shot down and he wasn’t stuck behind enemy lines and scrambling to get home. Jake was just the spare; sure he had a lucky shot, but he did nothing more. He didn’t deserve to bother anyone with his lack of sleeping. He would get it sorted, just like he always did.

As the day progressed and Jake's lids got heavier he thought about his techniques to combat his nightmares in the past and looked for his running gear. He hoped to kill two birds with one stone, run enough to clear his mind but also to make himself so exhausted he would fall asleep right away. The pilot put on his sneakers and reached for headphones before heading out the door. He knew it was going to be hot but the minute he was outside he felt like a wall of humidity was surrounding him. It wasn't the ideal running conditions but Jake grew up in Texas where heat was a part of everyday life. He threw off his shirt knowing it would be soaked in a second and headed out.

—————————————————————————-

Penny Benjamin wiped another hand across her brow as she turned to another box. She knew she shouldn't have chosen Tuesday to do inventory especially when the weather forecasts all called for the height of the heat wave to hit, yet here she was sweating in the back rooms of the Hard Deck anyway. She wished Maverick was around to help, though he was abnormally chaotic in a tight setting, at least the man could have helped with the lifting. Pete however, had taken Bradley for a 'getting re-acquainted trip' aka a 'get our crap together' trip up in Northern California. Penny was so happy to see the two trying to make things right and she knew it meant the world to Pete.

It did leave her alone though and with all the other pilots of the squadron gone on leave and Amelia visiting her father, Penny hated the quiet. Even doing normal chores around the bar made her ache for the loud and boisterous group she had grown to love. She hoped they were at least all trying to heal like Maverick and Rooster. She wasn't given all the details from the mission but she knew there were a lot of close calls and that for everyone to return was lucky, bordering on miraculous. Penny felt lucky herself every time she got to see Pete's smile again.

As the morning progressed and the heat got too much Penny opted to go over some sales numbers and to save the inventory for later. Grabbing her books, she headed for her usual table outside, the umbrella giving only the most miniscule relief from the heat.

She looked up as she watched a man run on the beach. He looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't until he was a bit closer that Penny realized it was Hangman. She had been surprised this morning when she saw the man arrive at the beach to run. She had assumed Hangman like all the others had gone away for leave. Clearly this wasn’t the case as the pilot putt his ear pods in and started his jog just as she first opened up to do inventory. Penny glanced at her watch and saw it was close to an hour later then since she had first arrived, and yet Hangman was still running. A hint of worry bubbled in her stomach but she learned that Top Gun pilots tended to be work-out fanatics, Hangman no exception.

As the man neared, Penny raised her hand, "Hangman!" she called but she wasn't surprised when the man kept running, no doubt lost in his music and training. She watched him for a minute, not immune to admit that the sight of the muscular shirtless blonde running along the beach wasn't the worst thing she's laid her eyes on. She shook her head at her silliness and turned back to her sales book figuring she would chastise the man for ignoring her later when he came in for some beers tonight.

Thirty minutes later the same figured appeared for the third time since she sat outside and Penny's brow furrowed. She knew Hangman liked to run but this was getting a bit excessive. She was familiar with his two mile loop, she had walked it with Amelia many times herself, but never this many times, nor in this kind of heat. When she included the time she was in the basement, she knew Jake was running much more than was normal or healthy on a day like today. It was nearing noon, the heat for the day was at its worse and she had heard an air quality alert on the news this morning. Jake ran with no water bottle, no shirt and if she had to guess no sunscreen. He just ran, and ran, and ran.

Perhaps it was the mother in her or perhaps it was just the concern for a pilot she had grown to care about over the years, but Penny refused to let Hangman run past again without at least taking a little respite. She stood herself up from the table and headed towards the sand, waving a bit to not startle the runner. As she got closer she noticed Hangman's gait was off, he seemed to be listing to the side with each step. Her concern mounting, Penny hurried forward a little faster, her heart dropping when she noticed Jake had started to stagger. "Hangman you alright?" the barmaid hollered, but instead of a verbal response Jake fell to one knee. "Jake!" Penny called as she watched the blonde collapse complete to the ground. He landed face first in the sand and the older woman felt herself fall next to him, a gentle hand reaching for his shoulder to help roll him over.

The man lying before her looked so far from the Hangman she knew that Penny gasped. Jake's normally lively green eyes were closed, his skin pale and his breath raspy. She gently nudged his face, trying to stir some kind of reaction and felt her heart relax a fraction when Jake gave a low groan and took a wobbling hand to brush hers away.

"Hey Hangman you with me?" she tapped his cheek again, worry increasing when she felt how warm his body was and yet she didn't notice much sweat on his body. Familiar with signs of overheating but in no way a doctor, Penny looked back towards the Hard Deck and hoped to see someone around that could help her. Unfortunately it seemed they were alone. She turned back to the blonde and saw his eyes were still closed though his body seemed to want to move. “Jake honey, can you hear me?” she asked again.

“P-Penny?” Jake murmured and finally those green eyes were open if barely past slits. He seemed to take a good look at the woman leaning over him before all the rest of the color in Hangman’s face disappeared and he rolled over to his side. As he retched out what Penny disgustingly assumed was his breakfast, she tried to run a soothing hand over his back but again she faltered at how hot his body temperature seemed to be. She reached to pull him back to face her carefully, allowing his back to land back in a clean portion of sand before trying to meet his eyes, “Jake, you with me? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah” he didn’t sound convincing, “’ll good.”

“I think you’re overheated, I need to get you inside.”

“No-“ he shook his head weakly, his voice low and gravelly, “-m fine…. Just-… just overdid it a bit. ”

Penny moved to brush back his damp hair from where it was plastered with sand to his forehead, “You really over did it, okay” she tried to give a reassuring smile but her concern was too great and it became more of a grimace, “you need to get out of this sun and get some water in you. You think you can stand?”

It didn’t look like Jake would be moving any time soon but when Penny gave him a small pull the pilot managed to follow the momentum enough to get himself standing. It wasn’t pretty and Hangman looked ready to puke again at least three different times, but he held it in and allowed Penny to throw his arm around her shoulders. The two took a moment to gain their balance before they started with small and slow steps all the way back to the Hard Deck.

The walk was long and tedious. With each step that they got closer Jake’s movements got sloppier and the weight Penny had to support seemed to double. When she finally got him inside, Penny deposited Jake to the nearest booth and ran for a cold water bottle and some towels. She ran them under the coldest water she could get and started to place them over Jake’s chest, his neck and his forehead. The man didn’t even flinch. “Keep those there” Penny ordered as she moved to grab more water bottles, “and take small sips of water.”

Jake tried to follow orders but when he moved his hands to open the bottle, they were shaking so bad he dropped it. He went to get his body to pick it up but instead he slid down to the floor, his back against the table’s leg. Penny heard the commotion and came running, finding the pilot out of it and on the floor of her bar. “Jesus Jake, I think we need to get you to the hospital” she told him, “This is way worse than over heating-“

“No” Jake shook his head, his eyes unfocused, “’m –ok-“

“Honey” she got him standing again, “no you’re not. Hang on, take a seat for a minute and let me get my keys. I have to lock up the basement and then I will take you.” She led him back towards the booths but didn’t wait for him to sit, instead running to her bag and car keys.

Meanwhile the blonde had teetered after her, following towards the bar and knocking over a stool followed by another, "shit” he cursed, “’m sorry. Y-you can just call m’ an uber" Jake slurred softly, now leaning heavily against the bar, “’t’s no bother.”

"Absolutely not, and I said to sit Jake" she ordered, manhandling him towards the booths, "sit before you collapse again."

"'M -fine-"

"No you're really not." Her eyes must have shown her anger and concern because Jake seemed to melt into the cushion of the seats. Penny gave a nod and then ran to lock up her basement door and lock the inventory room. When she got back to the bar she noticed Jake’s head was leaning down on the table. “Hangman?” she questioned, but the man didn’t stir, “Jake?” When she still got no answer, she hurried over and took one of the water bottles, emptying it over the man’s head in a frantic shake, “Lieutenant Seresin!” she yelled and was luckily awarded with a dazed Jake shaking his wet hair out in confusion. “-enny?” he murmured sleepily, “did it rain?”

“Something like that” Penny lied, moving to grab the man out of the booth once more and get him towards the exit, “now come on honey, we’re going to the hospital.”

“-Don’’ feel so g-good.”

“I know, but we’re going to get you all fixed up” she promised silently praying that she could deliver on such a statement. If she was honest with herself Jake’s condition was really starting to frighten her. He collapsed three times already, he threw up on the beach and his body temperature was frightening high. She had tried cold compresses but they didn’t seem to make a difference. He was incoherent and confused; his body a shaky and unstable mess when he was normally frighteningly in control.

They got to Penny’s car quickly; fortunately she parked in the closet spot this morning. She helped lay Jake out along the back seat, sparing a second to take a hand to his forehead where she still felt the heat radiating off his skin. She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything, instead starting her car and cranking the A/C, hoping that it would help cool the pilot down.

For the first few minutes of the ride, Jake stayed silent and if it weren’t for Penny looking towards him in the rear view mirror every few seconds she would have thought he was unconscious or worse. Instead she watched as the man took shallow wheezy breaths, praying they get to the hospital quickly so he could get real help.

After a few more minutes of silence, Penny heard what sounded like a throat clearing in the back seat. Jake’s voice sounded fractured when he finally spoke up, "'why-you helpin' me?" he whispered from the back, 'm a bad person. A bad person with no one left.”

"No you're not honey" Penny immediately argued back, watching as Hangman’s eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain, "you're a good person. I know that and so do the others."

"Asshole to them.... always a jerk..."

"I think they've started to see all that for what it is.” And she really believed that. The Hangman that strutted around the Hard Deck all these years was a show, meant for entertainment and for keeping people at arm’s length. Penny, no stranger at pushing people away herself, could recognize the signs easily though she knew it took the others a while to see. “You earned your teammates’ trust” she continued with what she hoped sounded reassuring. Jake didn’t seem to react to the words though, so Penny tried to push a bit more remembering what Maverick had told her the night he returned after the boat docked, about how Jake had saved his life, “you showed them the true Jake Seresin during the mission. They see it now.”

“They all left, ‘m alone again.”

“You’re not alone sweetheart”

“I should be, ‘ve killed people” Jake announced next and in the driver’s seat Penny stilled. It’s not that she doesn’t know this fact, she’s heard Hangman address it before but hearing Jake speak the words so matter of factly while he himself was so broken, exhausted and barely conscious, Penny’s heart clenched. “You were just doing your job, Jake, it’s different.”

“No” he shook his head minutely, “’t’s not.” He sniffed back what sounded like a sob, “can’t sleep, just see it again and again… All my mistakes... all the early graves… all my fault.”

“Nothing was your fault Jake, you saved lives that day. You saved Maverick and Rooster-“

“see them die every night…. ‘m pathetic-“

“No you’re not, you’re so brave honey” she felt a tear fall down her cheek as Jake let out another raspy sob, “so, so brave.”

“’ can’t even sleep anymore” Jake moaned, “just wanna sleep-“

“We can get you help for that” she urged, “there are people that can help-“

“No one can ‘elp me” his head lulled to the side, “I…can’t be fixed.”

There was so much Penny wished to say, so much she wished to correct but before she got the chance she was pulling into the emergency driveway entrance of the hospital and screeching her brakes to a halt behind an empty ambulance. “Please!” Penny hollered from her window at the two paramedics heading out the exit doors. Both stopped and looked her way, “please I need help” she urged to them.

The two women hurried forward, following Penny’s directions to the back seat, “he’s in rough shape, can you help me get him inside?”

“I’ll get the backboard and gurney” the younger of the medics announced, running back to her rig. When she returned the three women were able to lift Jake up and onto it, the two medical professionals beginning to wheel him inside, Penny hot on their heels.

“Ma’am you can’t leave your car here” the security guard tried but Penny ignored it and just continued to follow the gurney wheeling Hangman further into the hospital. Getting a ticket was the least of her worries, even getting towed. All she cared about was making sure the blonde pilot in that bed got the care he needed.

She followed them through into the emergency room where Jake was taken into a corner make-shift room with curtains closing it off. A nurse started asking Penny questions about Jake’s age, medical history, and if he had any allergies. She tried to answer to the best of her abilities but the truth was she didn’t really know. Jake Seresin had been coming to the bar for years but Penny couldn’t even tell the hospital if he was allergic to peanuts yet alone any medication he was on; she just never bothered to get to know him that well. She vowed if they got through this debacle, she would find out, resolved to pester Jake with so many questions he would have no choice but to tell her everything. She looked forward to it with a spark of hope.

Suddenly an older man came forward from the other side of the curtain, ripping it open with an intern on his heels, “What do we have?” he asked, not looking away from his patient on the bed.

“32 year old white male, fading in and out of consciousness, feels excessively warm to the touch-“

The doctor sighed and put on his glasses, his thinning hair reflecting the light as he knelt down on his work stool, and started to lightly examine Jake’s face and chest, “what’s his name?”

When no one else replied Penny realized the question was addressed to her. She swallowed her nerves, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin” she told him.

“Navy?”

“A Navy pilot, yes.”

“Why did you bring him here, shouldn’t he be on base?”

Penny shrugged, realizing she never even thought about taking Jake back to North Island, her mind just drove them to the first hospital she could think of, “this was closer” she explained instead.

The doctor hummed but continued his examination, “okay Lieutenant can you hear me?” when the blonde gave no response, the doctor turned to one of the nurses, “get me a temperature reading now” he ordered.

“Right away Doctor” and the nurse hurried to get the thermometer.

“What happened to him?” the ER doctor asked, shining a pen light as he used a hand to hold open Jake’s eye lid.

“He collapsed on the beach,” Penny supplied dutifully, still watching with what felt like a heavy weight on her chest, “he had been running and I think he might have over heated-“

“In this heat, I’m not surprised. Order a toxicology report, I don’t like his pupil dilation.”

Penny felt her temper flare, “He wasn’t drinking” she shot back, “he’s exhausted.”

“Let’s take the family out of the room-“ the doctor also added, rolling his eyes to his staff. As a nurse went to remove her, Penny listened as another rattled off Jake’s temperature. The minute his nurse was done saying 105 degrees, the ER doctor began sprouting commands, his voice a lot more concerned and worried than it were not two minutes ago. Penny knew 105 was dangerous, even deadly, but seeing doctors and nurses run in frantically made the woman more scared than she could ever remember being in her life. A curtain was pulled and her view was gone, and Penny felt her heart stutter as she wondered if that was to be the last time she would ever see Jake again. What if he died? What if she was too late getting him help, waited too long in the bar locking up a damn inventory closet when she should have been calling an ambulance and getting the poor man help. Her legs buckled for a moment but the nurse at her side kept a strong hand on her arm that kept her standing. “Here we go” the nurse told her steering her to the nurses’ station, “Fran” she called and one nurse was replaced with a different one as Penny was handed off once more.

“Okay” the nurse named Fran began, an iPad in her hand and glasses on her kind face, “let’s begin. Patient’s name was what again?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

“Age?”

“32.”

“Occupation?”

“Naval Pilot.”

She typed faster, then opened her mouth to ask more but Penny beat her too it, "please" she begged, "is he going to be alright?"

Fran seemed to scrutinize her for a moment, his brown eyes boring into Penny over her glasses, “What is your relation to him again?" she questioned.

Penny stuttered for a moment, but then found her confidence, "I'm- I'm his aunt” she declared daring someone to disagree. The nurse didn’t argue, just typed something on her iPad, “and your name?”

“Penny Benjamin.”

Fran nodded and motioned towards the waiting room, “okay Ms. Benjamin, take a seat and I’ll send a doctor to talk once he finishes his evaluations.”

"But can’t I go back in?“

“You’ve done everything you could for the Lieutenant; now leave it to the doctors.” Fran placed a comforting hand to her arm and squeezed gently, “your nephew is in good hands.”

“What if I didn’t do enough, I tried to put cold compresses, and the water, but he could even grip it properly and I never made him drink-“

“Shhh” the kind woman placated her, “I’ll let the doctors know. I’m sure they will put him on fluids right away, you just sit here.”

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’ll be back later.”

Penny watched her go, falling into the hard waiting room chair and taking her head into her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration and worry, but she knew that wouldn’t help Jake. Instead she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

A hand on her arm a few minutes later made her jump. She looked up; expecting a doctor or nurse but finding herself staring at the same security guard she had run past before. The man looked sheepish, clearly feeling guilty for startling her. Penny pulled her fingers through her long brown hair to try to look even a semblance of normal but the security guard didn’t seem to judge. “Ma’am” he began, “I’m sorry to bug you but I really need you to move your car, we got ambulances that need to unload in those spaces and you’re blocking them.”

She looked back at him, her face reddening in mortification; she had completely forgotten about the car she had left parked in the emergency entrance. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I was so panicked before-“

He shook off her apology, “believe me I’ve seen it a million times before. Just move it now and we can both pretend it didn’t happen. I know you got more important things to worry about.” He offered a hand to help her standing and Penny took it gratefully, rising from the chair and heading to the automatic doors leading outside.

Penny moved her car like directed and then took back her seat in the waiting room. She noticed others sitting around, none paying her much attention, everyone lost in their own worlds of worry and fear.

This was why she hated hospitals, especially waiting rooms. It was a place where time simultaneously stood still and yet rushed by. People waited in agony over people in actually agony. Some people were here for last goodbyes while others welcomed new lives into the world. It was a place of overstimulation and over emotion and yet Penny couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else at the moment. She would wait here as long as it took until she knew Jake would be okay.

About an hour later, a tall man approached the nurse’s station and Penny watched as he was directed to her. "Ms Benjamin?" the dark haired doctor called dressed in scrubs, "my name is Doctor Rask,” he held out a hand for Penny to shake, her grip lacking from her fear, “I’m your nephew's doctor” he told her soothingly.

"Hi" Penny breathed out, trying to control her nerves, "how's Jake?" she asked after no preamble.

If he thought she was rude the doctor didn't comment, instead he went right into Jake's diagnosis. "Lieutenant Seresin has a severe case of hyperthermia, more specifically heat stroke. His body temperature was 105 when you brought him in and that was with the cooling methods you tried to do prior. With a body temp that high our biggest concern is always going to be organ failure."

Penny clutched her hands into fists; the feeling of her nails in her palms the only thing keeping her together. She focused on the slight pain as she struggled to find her voice, "did he-... is his organs... are they okay?"

"He is extremely lucky” the doctor explained, “We don't see any evidence of organ failure but we will monitor him closely for the next few hours to be sure."

"That's- that's good news."

Dr. Rask spared her a comforting look, "it is, especially with how overheated he was but he's not out of the woods yet. Lieutenant Seresin was also severely dehydrated and extremely exhausted. His fine motor skills were so impaired upon admission that the ER doctor ordered a toxicology report because he was convinced Lieutenant Seresin must have been drunk. He wasn't of course but the Lieutenant admitted to being unable to supply the last time he had a full night's sleep."

Penny sighed, "he just got back from a serious mission Doctor Rask, it affective him deeply-"

"I understand," the doctor cut in gently, "and believe me I'm sympathetic but I suggest he find someone to talk to about this. He is beyond normal exhaustion levels which is extremely dangerous, not only in his profession but in all matters of his life."

"I agree. I plan on reaching out to his CO to discuss this as well."

The doctor softened, "we can also recommend people for him to talk to if he didn't want to go through the Navy. My father served and I know firsthand how people can be hesitant to show weakness to their superiors. It’s dangerous and they end up denying themselves the opportunity to get proper help."

"Thank you, I worry about that as well but I can promise you I will personally make sure Jake gets the help he needs, even if I have to drag him myself."

"He's lucky to have you" Doctor Rask shared with a smile.

Penny shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor, “I don't know about that” she admitted softly.

"I do” the doctor told her kindly, “You saved his life getting him in here so quickly."

"So he will be okay?"

"Well like I said before his organs look undamaged which is the best news for his case. He is still on cooling pads right now as we try to lower his temperature safely. We also have him on multiple IVs to increase his fluids and nutrients."

It certainly didn’t sound like he was okay but Penny took the doctor’s calm attitude as a good sign. Still she would only feel better once she could see Jake with her own eyes, "Is he awake?" she asked ready to run to his room if she found out he was.

Doctor Rask shook his head, "we gave him a small sedative which I would normally be against but Lieutenant Seresin was very restless in the room from the over exhaustion. I feared he would tax himself further. It should wear off in a few hours but he will be exceptionally groggy. Do to the severity of the heat stroke and the strain on his body; I want to keep him overnight for observations."

"Can I see him?"

"I would prefer not if I'm honest” he managed a sympathetic look when he noticed her face fall. “It's important for him to stay resting. In his heightened state and with the weak sedation, any disruption could cause him to wake before he's ready and that's the last thing he needs. Rest is his best medication at this point."

"I understand" and she did, no matter how much it broke her heart to think of Jake waking up alone in the hospital.

"If you leave your info with the nurse, I'll call you personally when he wakes, or any other member of his family."

He doesn't think he has any family, Penny's mind automatically corrected but she didn't bother saying it out loud. Besides, she learned many years ago that family went far beyond blood no matter what the medical world said. "Thank you Doctor, for everything."

"My pleasure and make sure Lieutenant Seresin thanks you as well. Like I said before, you saved your nephew's life today Ms. Benjamin, a few more minutes out there and we would be having a very different conversation."

She shuddered but gave her thanks anyway before turning back to her waiting room seat. She knew she had hours to kill before Jake would be up and she could see him so Penny took out her phone and scrolled to Pete’s name. She knew she needed to call the man, knew that the minute he heard something was wrong with one of his pilots he would want to be informed and be there. She wondered for a moment if perhaps she was overstepping until she remember Jake’s sad words in the car. This was a man who thought he was alone in the world and even worse, he thought he deserved to be alone in the world. He thought of himself as a killer for doing his job and pathetic for not being to handle his emotions and his PTSD properly. His hyperthermia would be treated but Penny knew that Jake Seresin had a much longer road to recovery once he was discharged from the hospital. Penny knew that she, Maverick, Rooster and the rest of the Daggers would be there for him every step of the way. They were a family now and that’s what family does.

Her mind made up, Penny hit the call button and brought the phone up to her ear, ready to call on the reinforcements.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hey my family out the Christmas decorations up today and it made me think of a cute little request for roosters brood? Like one where the kids tell the squad that they say mommy kissing Santa thought it would just be funny and cute 🥰

Aww that is super cute! I’m totally getting into the holiday spirit despite it being my busiest season, work-wise 😫 Hope you like this little drabble which may or may not have somehow turned into a Hannix thing.. I don't even know haha I've just been in a Jake mood lately 😅

The Secret

Rooster x Wife!Reader

Summary: One of your children confides in Hangman after he sees you locking lips with Ol' Saint Nick.

CW: just a tiny drabble, fluff, Christmas, kids, hints of Hannix

WC: 400+

“Guess what?” you hear your son say excitedly as he pulls on Jake’s pantleg while the latter is hanging a string of lights above your window.

“Chicken butt,” Jake responds without looking down.

“No!” Your son cackles. “I have a secret!”

Jake glances at him with a smirk. “Let me guess,” he says. “You’re not planning on keeping it.”

“Keeping what?” the boy asks in confusion.

Jake’s grin widens and he steps down from the stool to sit on it instead. He leans forward and gives your son his undivided attention. “Alright, go ahead.”

Your son brings his face to Jake’s ear and starts saying something when Jake jerks away from him. “Buddy!” he exclaims. “When you’re talking into my ear, whisper. You’re gonna burst my damn eardrum.”

“Bagman!” Phoenix tosses a garland at his back. “Language.”

“Phoenix!” he responds, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Can you save the violence for when we’re alone?”

Natasha’s eyes widen and her mouth curves into an outraged grin. She goes back to her poinsettia arrangement in silence.

Jake returns his attention to your son, who starts whispering feverishly into his ear.

“Oh, really?” Jake says, his mouth stretching into a wide smirk. He glances up at you with a roguish smile.

“You can’t tell daddy,” your son warns.

Jake nods, still watching you. “I agree.”

…

“What was that about?” you ask Jake later that evening after Bradley goes to put the kids to bed.

Jake turns to you with a laugh. “Apparently, you’re on the naughty list.”

“What?”

“Little Pete –”

“It was Nick,” Natasha interrupts Jake, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever, they’re practically the same person.” Jake waves his hand. “Little Nick saw mommy kissing Santa Clause.”

You clap a hand over your mouth, gasping. “Oh no!”

“What happened?” Bradley asks, coming down the stairs.

“Bradley was trying on the new Santa costume he bought,” you say with a slight whine. “I can’t believe they saw us!”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Natasha muses. “Finding out that Santa isn’t real or thinking that your mom’s having an affair with old Saint Nick.”

You cringe. “Both are terrible!”

Bradley makes a face. “Someone saw us?”

Jake nods. “Yeah, Pete –”

“Nick,” Natasha corrects him again.

Jake sighs in exasperation. “How can you even tell them apart?”

Natasha shrugs. “Pete is shorter.”

Bradley chuckles, taking you by the waist and kissing your cheek. “Don’t worry, darling,” he mutters. “We’ll just tell the kids that Santa kisses everybody.”

Jake glances at the two of you sourly and then reaches over to take Natasha by the arm. He pulls her toward him possessively. “As long as Santa doesn’t demonstrate it,” he comments with a grimace.

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[notroosterbradshaw]

The Relationship Experience - one

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

prologue

Nothing especially interesting happened between the hours of 4:45am to now, in fact, the whole day had been so slow since Rooster retrieved his dog tags. It was about 6:30pm and you hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t an entire surprise. He was at work; he didn’t have the luxury of the day off like you.

You were restless, so incredibly listless. After Rooster left, sleep didn’t come easily. Your brain couldn’t stop relaying the moments from the night before. By midday, you were buzzing on coffee and waning adrenaline. Tasks seemed impossible, all you managed was to remove your makeup and eat some bland toast. Everything felt out of flux and made you feel off-kilter, figuratively turned upside down.

You reckoned you had commenced and deleted at least 10 texts to Rooster to thank him again for yesterday, that you couldn’t stop thinking about his kiss, the way he touched you, that you were… absolutely infatuated with him.

What was most tragic was you couldn’t find the nerve to hit ‘send’ on absolutely any of them. In fact, you couldn't find the nerve to text anyone – not Natasha demanding how the night went; not your sister asking how you’d pulled up after such a big day; not the bride and groom thanking you and Bradley for your incredibly thoughtful wedding gift (how was it incredibly thoughtful if it was on a wedding registry, you’d never know but hey. They didn’t hate it) and that you must double date soon. Yeah, okay.

The most common thing you brought yourself back to while everything else spun around you? 

What had Bradley Bradshaw done to you? 

24 hours ago, you were fine, perfectly content with most aspects of your life with your strictly platonic friend, Rooster. And now? Not a single thing seemed to fit in its place.

At 7:01pm, your phone buzzed while you attempted the week’s lesson plans for yourself and your team, but little was coming to fruition. A little too eager, you knocked the phone directly off the bed and into the pile of yesterday’s still damp bridesmaid dress, rocketing you straight back to the dancefloor during the bridal waltz and the electricity of Rooster’s touch as he claimed your first dance together. God, he could move. The way he pulled your body to his, the gentle caress of his hands on your back. You could almost smell his cologne in the air –

Finding your phone, you saw another text from Natasha that simply said, ‘Please don’t make me call you. I hate talking on the phone. Just want to know Rooster didn’t murder you and leave you in a ditch x’

Confronting, you thought to yourself. It was time to give in.

You: I’m alive. Sorry, just working/planning the week’s lessons.

Natasha: Awesome, I’ll be there in 10. I have pizza, wine and I want every fucking detail from last night. Rooster is giving me absolutely nothing. Don’t be like Rooster. See you soon x

“Shit,” you muttered, still in your Lakers tee from this morning. You really should have made some kind of effort, realising if Rooster turned up unannounced – shit, you didn’t want to put that tragedy into the universe. Busting your ass, you ran for the shower and in record time, you’d washed your hair and ridded the rest of the last 36 hours off you as well.

Tossing on jeans and a tee over your bra and undies, you heard Natasha's relentless beating on the door. Dashing to it, you opened it to a very flustered, albeit adorable, Natasha Trace, pizza and wine in hand, as promised.

“You are the cutest delivery service ever,” you smiled, stepping out of the doorway and taking the pizza from her as she wandered in, rolling her deep brown eyes. 

“I was about to smash a window in. You’ve been radio silent all goddamn day, I thought you were dead!” she huffed, casual and not dissimilar to yourself in blue jeans and a white tee, hair in a messy bun. “Respond. To. Texts,” she instructed. “Especially when I’m absolutely desperate to know what happened last night!” she added the last a little hysterically as you bit back a laugh.

"It was okay. My feet are still killing me. You know, I don't mind weddings," you told her, falling on the couch, tossing the pizza box on the coffee table as she went to the kitchen. You put some music on for some background noise. "I just don't like being in them,” you clarified.

“Imagining your wedding day...” Natasha teased.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about there,” you giggled. 

Natasha smiled, wandering back with the glasses as you tuckered eagerly into a slice, not realising how hungry you were after forgoing most meals today. "I'm glad you had a good time; I've never seen anyone dread anything more. Rooster said he enjoyed himself."

His name off someone else’s tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your system. 

"He seemed to," you shrugged, not wanting to talk too much about him for fear everything will come out. She took a seat beside you, unscrewing the wine and pouring a glass each. 

“I’ll just take care of this too, huh?” she muttered as you apologised, a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.

“Sow-ry,” you replied and swallowed, giving her a greasy smile. “I’m famished and this is so good.”

“I hope to find out myself,” she laughed quietly. “So, tell me everything. And don’t leave a fucking thing out because you are a terrible liar, and I will see right through it.”

Wide-eyed, you nodded, believing her. “Ask me anything, I guess?” you replied, frankly terrified of her for a moment.

"How was his suit? Details, immediately, if not sooner,” she asked calmly. Too calmly.

"Pretty good," you understated.

“Pix?”

“Uhh, no,” you replied. “There was some taken by the photographer, but it sincerely never crossed my mind to get any. Rooster and I didn’t pose for any.”

“You two are fuckin’ killing me!” she exclaimed as you shrugged, meekly. 

From the moment Rooster had sauntered into the reception, you were both so wretchedly lost in each other to consider the small things like pix and you loathed how excited this conversation would be if you were just allowed to be honest. Natasha Trace was your friend, a really fucking good one, she knew you (and Rooster) well and read people even better. “Blue velvet jacket, dark slacks,” you frowned as she did too. “Cute bow tie.”

“Did you dance or, like, be wallflowers all night?” her voice trailed off.

“We danced a few times. He’s a good dancer,” you force-fed yourself more pizza while the wine breathed. How could you overstep the mark if you were stuffing your face? Couldn’t incriminate yourself if you simply couldn’t speak! Logic? Denial. 

“Slow danced?” she wriggled her eyebrows as you laughed gently.

“Yes, we slow danced. He was very respectful, Carole raised him right.”

“Carole?”

“His mother,” you stood up and pointed to the photo on the wall that had Rooster so enamoured the night before.

“She’s really beautiful.”

“So beautiful.”

“Rooster looks nothing like her,” she studied the photo.

“No,” you grinned, plonking back down. “All his old man, even to the mo.”

“I honestly forgot how intrinsically linked you two are,” she said wistfully. “This whole thing of being friends for so long, then the classic fake relationship to save face at a wedding.”

And here it comes. “Nat…”

“You know the writing is clearly on the wall, right?” she told you, pulling at a string of mozzarella between her fingers. You felt completely transparent. She was daring you... and frankly, not having to try too hard.

“What do you mean?” you asked warily.

She plonked the cheese into her mouth and paused. “You know I’m a total romantic at heart.”

“Absolutely. What you’re doing with Bagman is baffling to me.”

“It’s only sex,” she rolled her eyes at you. “I’ve told you the rules.”

“And are you… following the rules?” you asked kindly. “Because initially, fucking Jake was a one-night thing… but now it’s like a weekly booty call on your whim. I cannot remember the last time he tried picking someone up in the bar. You wake up in each other’s beds - ” you reminded her thoughtfully.

“Bitch, you know I can dish it out, but I can’t take it,” she pretended to be sad, before blowing a raspberry and giving you the thumbs down.

“Have you said, ‘I love you’ yet?” you continued. 

“We’re not talking about me, all right?” she cracked. “We’re talking about you and Bradshaw. You’re the goss tonight, not me and Bagman,” she scoffed at the mere mention of Jake’s name.

Giggling quietly, you nodded. “Okay, ask me. You know you want to…”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Natasha was so ready for this. You just gave her all the ammo she needed. "Did he... kiss you?" she leaned forward, elbows on knees, so eager. Pouting, you sighed, and her smile grew. "I fucking knew it!" she exclaimed. “He was far too quiet for his usual grandstanding.”

“But you can’t say anything!” you pleaded, pointing at her.

“Then tell me everything I need to know and I’ll make sure to – ” she zipped her lips. “Let’s start again. Suit?”

“It was really fuckin’ good,” you said, a little dreamy in memory, easing back lazily on the couch cushions. “I’ve never seen him sexier. I don’t think I even thought he was sexy before last night.”

“Oh, babe. Rooster is stupidly hot and I say this from a strictly platonic place,” she informed you. "He will lay you so good. How did you never see it?”

“I mean, yeah, he was always handsome. But his suit...”

“Had to be more than a suit.”

“You’re right. It was everything...” 

Natasha’s smile was as dreamy as yours, so happy for you. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No,” you said, quickly. “Trust me when I say I tried. But he wasn’t having it.”

Frowning, maybe a little surprised, she asked, “Rooster? Rooster Bradshaw did not try to sleep with you?”

“No,” you said, subconsciously bringing back the embarrassment of earlier this morning. You still felt a little rejected and humiliated at how you threw yourself at Rooster, but Natasha didn’t seem to notice. Ew, you didn’t enjoy reliving it twice. 

“You did bring the right guy home, right?”

You nodded, solemnly. “Yes. I completely threw myself at him,” you confided.

“And he still didn’t bone you?” she frowned.

“No,” you sipped the wine, barely tasting it. Fuck.

“Holy shit, that big oaf is in love with you,” she prophesied, thrusting her arms in the air in comprehension.

“What?” you shook your head. “Knock it off, Natasha.”

“Nah, he wants to wait, he is considering this,” she pondered aloud, clutching her wine glass to her heart. “He’s gonna take you to a romantic dinner in town, have fuckin’ rose petals strewn everywhere, candles. He’s gonna lay you down and make sweet, sweet love to you – ”

“When did my life turn into a 90’s music video?” you wondered as she laughed.

“Oh, my God, I’m so happy for you guys! I’m so happy for myself because I was right, but oh, wow. He’s in deep! Tell. Me. More,” she exchanged her glass for pizza, taking a satisfying bite. “Don’t leave anything out.”

“Natasha, Rooster was a new person to me last night. He was so charming and funny, and handsome. Oh, my word - so sexy. He took such good care of me. Whenever someone made me uncomfortable, he held my hand, rubbed my back, and played with my hair. Always something. He touched me all night."

“Tactile,” she nodded, impressed.

“So tactile, yes!" you said in revelation, the smell of the pizza calling to you as you chewed another bite. "His hands are amazing. Strong, comforting, you know?"

“I feel I knew Rooster was capable of these things," she admitted, slowly. "But actually hearing it, I still don't completely believe it. Is he a good kisser?" she shimmied, desperate for the answer.

“The best kisser,” you sighed, memories reverberating through your mind of his lips on yours, his tongue pressing against yours -

“And the moustache?” she gave a face that may or may not have said ‘ick’.

“Will take some time, but I didn’t hate it,” you confessed. “Natasha?”

She hummed. “Yes, my love?”

“It was the best night of my life,” you said quietly.

“Holy fuck, you’re in love with him too,” she realised, the pizza falling from her grasp back into the box.

“No, no,” you waved the notion away. You’d never fallen fast in your life, and this certainly wasn’t going to be one of those whimsical rom-com times. “I mean, I had a crush on him in high school, and this feels nothing like it.”

“You had a crush on him in high school?!” she screeched.

“I never mentioned that?” you asked meekly and for good reason - if anyone got a sniff of your teenage crush on Rooster Bradshaw, it would be on for young and old and your soul didn’t need that embarrassment in your life and he probably didn’t either.

“And I’m just learning this now?!.”

“The crush disappeared when he left for college. It’s no big thing,” you told her honestly. 

And it really wasn’t. 

“I didn’t see him for a few years, and then I went to college, and we didn’t see each other for a while until around the time I met you,” you shrugged. While you spent your childhood and teen years in similar circles, you really drifted after Rooster turned 18. Why wouldn’t you? He was growing up and following his dreams. You were too.

Grandpa encouraged you to study over East (Annie had mentioned he didn’t want either of you young, dumb and settled on some Navy dolt who managed to say the right things to you and keep you trapped when there was a whole world to see) and accept a swimming scholarship before you tried to figure your life out. 

You’d swam all your life, competitively, you would teach as your summer job and after realising you weren’t the calibre required to swim professionally, passing your knowledge on seemed the next appropriate step. Swimming was a universal language, so you took a few courses and taught your way around th world for a while. 

It wasn’t a big thing that Rooster fell out of your life.

“I remember the night I met you,” Natasha smiled fondly. “My God, you little cutie patootie. Was it Annie’s hen’s night? Bachelorette?”

“Same same.”

“And Rooster was definitely in town.”

“Yeah, I think he was,” you recalled faintly. “Wow, I haven’t been that drunk in a while,” you admitted. “Thank Christ.” Putting your head in your hands, you recalled only bits and pieces of that night. The rest was a blacked-out mystery. Probably for the best.

“Must be growing up,” she teased, raising her wine glass to you. “I’ve never seen you so happy in our entire friendship and I’m so, so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking her free hand and cuddling it to your cheek.

"You know, Rooster’s always been super into you, I can't believe I didn't set you two up earlier. I kind of regret it now."

"Nah,” you frowned, exchanging her cheek for your discarded pizza again.

"True story. I'd catch him watching you every once in a while, that way he immediately moves from his bar stool and ushers you in when you get to the bar. I'm not getting that treatment," she kind of huffed.

Holy shit, he did. Every time, he’d guide you with a gentle hand to your hip and you’d think absolutely nothing of it. 

“He’ll always order you a beer and you’ll drink a mouthful to be polite because you hate it but he always finishes it.”

“It’s a beer bar,” you shrugged. “Wait, what? He finishes it?”

“He’s not going to waste perfectly good beer,” Natasha reasoned as your phone pinged. You pleaded it wasn’t him, this was not the time for Rooster to text. Not with Natasha here. You were already getting grilled, but a text from him would only make matters worse –

“‘Rooster’ and a Rooster, cute,” she smiled, holding up your phone. “‘Missed you today. Did you still wanna catch up or…’” she said verbatim. “And kiss you a little more. Maybe see what comes up,” she gyrated on the couch. “Do you want me to leave?”

“He said he was going to come over, but I haven’t heard from him all day. You were here first.”

“Aww,” she said, almost touched. “It’s okay, text him back. You get yourself laid.”

Rubbing your face, embarrassed, you replied, “Nat, I love you, but you need to calm down.”

She breathed. “You’re right, I do. My two best friends are totally in love and I need to be cool, calm and collected about it,” she smiled, putting the lid on the pizza. “I will go, but I’m taking the pizza with me.”

“Nooo,” you replied, grabby hands for at least another slice. Curious, now knowing Rooster had a few obvious tells about his feelings for you, you dared ask, “Nat, did I do anything?"

“For what?”

“Did I have any tells with Rooster?”

She shook her head with a gentle smile. "Nah, no one can get a read on you, baby," she winked. “But Rooster... He's quieter when you're around. When you're not there, he's one of the boys, a part of the pissing contest, you know?”

“Oh,” you tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. You didn't want him changing himself for you.

"Don't be offended," she continued. "I think it is just more respect, you know? You two have known each other for a long time. It’s sweet."

"Like Jake doesn't have for you?" you teased.

"Exactly. We're only fucking, we're not in a relationship. If he went soft on me, stopped challenging me, stopped trying to make me better, I'd dump his dumb ass."

“Kinda sounds like a relationship…” you dared as she put the cap back on the wine.

“And for that, I’m taking the wine too,” she huffed. “Bagman and I have ground rules,” she reiterated again.

“Of course, of course,” you nodded, playing along.

“The line won’t be crossed.”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

“And on that note, on a night that I was supposed to savage you, you’ve turned it onto me and now I’m just feeling attacked,” she huffed disappointment, her wine and pizza in her arms and heading towards the door.

“I really like him, Nat,” you said dismally as you both stopped at the door. “I don’t know him anymore and I need to know everything now,” you rambled.

Natasha gave a genuine smile, no more of that shit-eating, ‘I was right’ stuff. No more posturing. “I know. And I’m so happy for you. Because I think you and Rooster will be incredible together. You both deserve this,” she surprised you with a hug. “And if he hurts you, I can actually kill him. Goodnight, fuck safe,” she instructed.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Go fall a little more in love with Bagman,” you sighed, pushing her gently out of the apartment. “Pretend when you head to his room that the pizza and wine was for you guys the whole time.”

She cackled on the way back to her car. “Fuck him, this pizza and wine are mine!”

“Sure,” you called after her, waiting for her to get back to her car. She waved once and drove away. You closed the door, collecting your thoughts. Okay, so you and Rooster had absolutely no idea where you stood but you practically praised the ground he walked on to Natasha, so she knew. Good. You hated secrets. Not that you tried very hard to keep this one. She broke you incredibly quickly.

Wandering back to the couch, you found your phone and sat down, tucking your legs under you, anxious to respond to Rooster and potentially see him soon.

You: I thought you’d forgotten about me… come over anytime x

“No, you fucking loser,” you deleted the text you were about to send and tried again.

You: I’m home.

Hitting send, you added a quick “xx” to the next text to make it seem less cold than you intended. You groaned. “You are such a fucking idiot.”

Rooster 🐓: What about 8? I’m just getting in. Long day.

You: Anytime xx

two.

masterlist.

a/n: gotta say, party crew, with engagement way down, I’m unlikely to keep a schedule for this series. thank you to those who comment and reblogged, you’re the true mvp’s. know that I see every one of them, and you absolutely move me x 

[missathlete31]

AU Poll Question

Soooooo I've been very in the AU game lately for Top Gun. Just imagining all the different ways you can mix this movie with other beloved movies or stories. I feel cruel for indulging this so much, especially since I can't seem to actually write anything again, BUT I'm determined that maybe this will inspire me, or others, or maybe these crazy concepts will at least bring a smile to someone.

(Possible pairings for each AU are in parenthesis but spoiler alert, I only really write Hangman centered stories so he will be featured heavily. Also I am really into the Hangster and Hannix headspace right now so be warned)

** There is a Twister AU that is Hangster by HangmanBradshaw which is so brilliantly done! Everyone needs to check it out!

Also please note- Some of these have moodboards, some have elevator pitches but if there's any story you want to know more about, head over to my messages and I'll be happy to talk about them with you! I'm a sucker for the messages on here, I got to talk to so many wonderful people through it! Head on over to chat!

[oh-great-authoress]

“Minx, I flew GODDAMN F-18’s, I’m pretty sure I can handle a souped-up 747—”

“Jake, NO.”

Okay, you’ve seen the Bradshaws in the White House, but what happens when…

…it’s the Seresins’ turn? 😉