#located in Pensacola

[duncancustomgutter]

Duncan Custom Gutter & Copper Craft, located in Pensacola, Florida, specializes in professionally installed seamless aluminum and copper rain gutters on residential and commercial structures. We offer complete rain gutter service on existing homes and businesses, as well as on new construction in Escambia, Santa Rosa, and Okaloosa counties in Florida and Baldwin County in Alabama.

[trickphotography2]

The Perfect Match

Every third week in March, fourth year medical students find out where they'll be going for their residency. A quick 2.2K word one-shot of Jake's girlfriend going through that process.

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The nervous energy in the auditorium was almost overwhelming as the clock ticked closer to 11:50AM. All across the US, fourth-year medical students gathered in ceremonies like this, ready to find out where they would be headed in just a few months to begin their residency. It had been a long week - on Monday, everyone received an email letting them know if a residency program had selected them. For those who got one, it was a waiting game to see where they would be moving. Those who hadn't been selected went through the nerve-wracking SOAP process, hoping to secure a job after graduation. With the number of medical graduates increasing faster than residency positions, it wasn't always a guarantee. 

You, however, already knew where you were going and what specialty you would be practicing. For months last year, you'd flown across the country, interviewing with residency programs at different installations and civilian hospitals—backups in case you didn’t match with a base hospital and had to compete for a civilian spot. And a perk of matching through the military was getting notified of your posting in mid-December, while civilians had to wait until the third week of March. 

On December 15th, you received that wonderful email alerting you that you had matched into Emergency Medicine at Naval Medical Center San Diego. Not only was Emergency Medicine a competitive specialty, but the location meant that you would finally be able to be close to your long-distance boyfriend, Jake, after seven long years.

A chance encounter over Spring Break freshman year led to late-night calls when he returned to Annapolis and you to College Park. For four years, you lived 35 minutes apart in Maryland, stealing as much time as possible together over the weekends. And after graduation, you had a long conversation about your future.

Jake had been clear from the beginning that he wanted to be a pilot, just as you had been firm about attending medical school. He supported you as you struggled through Organic and Biochemistry and tutored you in Physics. He would try not to laugh as you traced his skin, naming the muscles, bones, and systems as you reviewed for anatomy. Care packages showed up at your apartment when you spent as much time as you could getting clinical hours, volunteering in a research lab, and studying for the MCAT. Jake knew how important getting your CV ready was and tried not to complain too much when your weekends spent together were mainly catching up on chores or sleep.

Senior year, you were offered a spot at Florida State University College of Medicine. Jake had been notified in his junior year that he had been accepted into the flight program.

After graduation, you and Jake packed up your things and drove to Florida together. He had a few weeks until he had to report to Pensacola, just a 3-hour drive down I-10 from where you would be in Tallahassee. The apartment you got was right across the street from the med school, a small one-bedroom, but you knew you wouldn’t spend much time there anyway. It would be a place to eat and sleep, but most of your time would be spent on campus or driving to Jake’s in Pensacola. He would only be there for a few months until transitioning to the next base, and you wanted to spend as much time together as possible. 

Unlike other medical schools, FSU required students to start in the summer to complete the Anatomy course. Over the short term, students would complete a full-body dissection. The smell of formaldehyde became commonplace, and the TAs warned you to wear shoes and scrubs you wouldn’t hate to throw away in August. 

They were right. 

It was a rough transition to med school, but it was manageable. And you loved it. Your professors ensured you treated the cadavers with the utmost respect while gently encouraging competition by announcing a dissection team winning each week. The faculty brought you to a rural community to learn about rural medicine, sharing food and stories with those less fortunate. The physician assistant students joined on the trip, and you learned about an inter-professional day that you’d be expected to participate in later - role-playing a case with MD, PA, pharmacy, and social work students. 

And while you were working toward your dream, Jake was getting closer to his. Nights were spent catching up, and he was so excited to tell you about his flight training. He promised to get his civilian pilot license as soon as possible and rent a plane to take you up in the air. On the rare weekend you didn’t need to spend in the anatomy lab cramming for an exam, you drove to his place late Friday night and headed back to Tally on Sunday morning. 

In August, Jake requested time off to come and see you celebrate finishing your first semester. Seated in the audience, he watched as your faculty member helped you don your first white coat, and you recited the Hippocratic oath. The one-week vacation before Fall term started wasn’t long enough, but you enjoyed waking up in Jake’s bed and going to the beach.  

Joining the military had never been in your future, but the longer you spent around Jake and his friends, the more commissioning in the Navy seemed attractive. A medical officer recruiter spoke at the college, and you signed your paperwork. After spending a few weeks working in a clinic during the summer after the first year, you headed to Rhode Island to complete Officer Training. Jake called you as soon as you graduated, welcoming you into the service with only some light teasing about outranking you. As an Ensign, you would be forced to salute your Lieutenant boyfriend when you saw him. 

It was harder to see each other when he graduated from flight school and was stationed in California, but you managed to get by with phone calls and vacations. Toward the end of your second year, Jake was sent on deployment as you studied for the Step 1 exam - testing your foundational knowledge and one of the most intimidating exams you faced. The school gave you dedicated study time, and you took advantage of his offer to study at his apartment in Lemoore. His buddy, Coyote, met you at the airport and drove you to Jake’s apartment. A bouquet of flowers was sitting on the counter, and you stared at them as you mentally ran through Anki decks to quiz yourself.  

Jake came home the last week you were there. Fully recovered from the 8-hour exam, you greeted him with all the other family members on the flight line. It was the first time you saw him in his jet, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated the sight. But too soon, you had to return to Florida and pack up your apartment in Tally to move to Pensacola for your last two years of medical school. On your last night in Lemoore, Jake took you out dancing and promised he would request leave to visit soon. 

Between your rotations and his shitty schedule as a junior officer, it was hard to see one another. At the end of your third year, you hit a rocky spot and talked about breaking up. But cooler heads prevailed, and you promised to do your best to match into a residency near him. He agreed to try and get orders to be closer to you once you graduated. 

Jake had been your first call on December 15th. Sobbing, you told him you’d join him in San Diego, where he’d been stationed for the last four months. 

The last-minute plane tickets had been expensive, but it had been so worth it to spend Christmas with him, making plans to move your stuff across the country, and finally be together. He’d held your hand as you pulled your name from the NBME Match Database, officially alerting the civilian hospitals you’d interviewed at that you were no longer hoping to match with them. 

So, while your friends waited anxiously to open their envelopes, you felt a sense of calm. In nine short weeks, you would be back in this auditorium wearing your dress whites under your cap and gown. After getting your diploma, your new orders would be published, and you would be promoted to Lieutenant. And after? Jake was scheduled to return from a deployment in a month and requested leave to help you pack up your apartment and start the cross-country road trip. 

Eight years of hard work would culminate in moving in with the man you loved. Who could support you in person as you went through the hell of residency and got used to being a full-time Naval officer. 

The Dean crossed the stage and welcomed everyone. As the clock struck noon, she encouraged everyone to open their envelopes.

Tearing it open, you stared at the words confirming your future - Emergency Medicine, Naval Medical Center San Diego. 

Jake.

Cheers broke out, and you turned to hug your friends as they screamed with happiness or smiled to hide disappointment on not getting their top choice. 

The ceremony began with each regional campus called up to allow the students to announce their match.

You hadn’t planned on going on stage. The trip back to Tally had only been to see your favorite staff members and to support your friends as they found out where they would be moving. They had brought their family members, partners, and kids to share in the moment. You had come alone, preferring your family to go to graduation instead. But your friends dragged you into the line and handed your name card to the smiling staff. 

“Hi,” you said, leaning into the microphone after the Regional Campus Dean introduced you. “I just wanted to say thank you to all of my friends and family. Without you, I wouldn’t have made it through all of this. I matched in Emergency Medicine and will be moving across country to be with my boyfriend, who kept me sane throughout all of this. And I’ll be at Naval Medical Center San Diego

The crowd cheered louder than they had for any of your classmates. Blushing, you lifted your hand and waved, stepping back and quickly walking toward the Campus Dean to shake his hand. But as you neared, he smiled and took a step back.

You froze.

Jake grinned. 

Wearing his dress whites, he quickly strode toward you, pulling you into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you demanded, blinking away tears. 

“Wasn’t gonna miss your Match Day, darlin’,” he replied.

“You’re supposed to be on the carrier!” 

“Might have lied about that.” There wasn’t a trace of regret on his face. “You worked so hard for this, and I wanted to surprise you. My beautiful, smart, adrenaline junky doctor girlfriend.”

“Not yet - won’t be a doctor for another few weeks.” 

“You’ve got it in the bag. But I figured since you’re already trading in a couple of ranks - med student and Ensign…” Taking your left hand, he reached into his pocket and lowered himself to one knee. 

Vaguely, you heard the crowd get louder, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Jake as he held out a diamond ring. 

“I thought maybe we could change girlfriend to wife. Will you marry me?” 

Unable to speak, you nodded quickly. Jake leapt to his feet and kissed you, smiling against your mouth. 

The next few minutes were a blur. You hugged the Deans while Jake shook their hands, and your parents met you off stage - Jake had called to let them in on his plan. His parents texted him after watching the proposal on the school’s livestream. After promising to meet up after the ceremony, Jake joined you in the student section while your parents returned to their seats. Your friends hugged you, whispering excitedly as you showed them your engagement ring. 

And later, after a celebratory dinner with your family and drinks at the beer garden with your classmates, you tumbled into bed with Jake. You could taste the beer on his tongue as he licked into your mouth, and you grinned when your ring caught the light and shimmered.

“Lieutenant and Lieutenant Seresin,” Jake chuckled, catching your hand and kissing your ring. “Sounds kinda nice.” 

“Mmmm,” you hummed. “My diploma will be issued in two months, Seresin. Then I’m applying for my medical license and getting all my onboarding paperwork done for NMCSD. I might have to go by my last name for a bit… but I kinda like how it sounds with Lieutenant…”

 “It does sound nice,” he agreed. “You sayin’ I’ve got 2 months to get it official, or are you telling me you wanna keep your last name?” 

“Dunno,” you shrugged. “I’ve spent the last four years thinking I’d practice under my own name.”

“How do you feel about hyphenating?” 

Your eyebrows shot up, “You’d be okay with that?” 

“Darlin', you did the hard work, and it’s your name. As long as I can call you Doctor Seresin at home, I don’t care.”

In the middle of May, you stood at attention on stage in your whites, having quickly changed out of your cap and gown. The medical recruiter, a local chief petty officer, had been called onto the stage to publish your orders. Forcing yourself not to smile, you pressed your lips together as he read out your name — your new, hyphenated last name and all. 

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Notes: I used to work in a medical school, and went through three years of working on Match Day. It was one of my favorite events because of the level of excitement. (And yes, we did have a proposal one year.) But it can also be a really hard day - as state above, the number of residency spots is lower than the number of people who graduate. Every year, people go through the SOAP process and don't match. Which means they have to find something to do for a year, and then start the process over again.

Definitely didn't plan on writing this - I think in about an hour? - but I watched a class I worked with Match today and it kicked up a lot of feelings. I had the pleasure of watching young students grow into doctors, and play some small part in that.

As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, and for giving feedback.

[y2k-aesthetic]

The Hello Kitty TV/monitor is still for sale!!

Hi guys!!! Just wanted to post that the Hello Kitty TV/monitor is still for sale!!

It's primarily designed as a TV, but, it has an HDMI port and USB ports, and could be used as a monitor or connected to streaming devices (e.g. Roku, Firestick, etc.) via HDMI connection.

Comes with a matching mouse and matching remote.

This is a rare collectors' item! Likely to increase in value over time.

Not sure on the vintage, unfortunately, but I know it belonged to my brother and he bought it for my nieces, so likely mid- to late 2010s.

$250 or best offer, plus $25 for US domestic shipping.

(If you're located outside the US, we can figure out the approximate cost for shipping, which is likely to be higher.)

If you are located in or near Pensacola, FL, local pickup is also available!

DM me for inquiries.

The seller is actually my mom, I'm just helping her out. She plans to split the proceeds with my brother who originally purchased it.

Unfortunately, my family is experiencing financial issues right now, and it would be a HUGE help to my mom if we can find a buyer for this!

[melonberry]

Wicked Game (part one)

Pairings : Jey Uso x Reader / Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings : violence , smut , angst , manipulation , infidelity , toxic relationships , Roman is a bit of an asshole in this story

Plot: The Bloodline is a notorious mafia gang in Pensacola. They trade illegal weapons with other dangerous criminals. Roman notices a change in Jey, his right hand man, and realises that his secret relationship with YN, a regular woman who works as a nurse, is the cause for his mistakes. Roman vows to make his life a living hell.. even if it means involving YN.

He never meant to slip up. He didn’t know what had happened. One minute he’s meeting a crime lord to pick up the weapons Roman had approved for him to pay for and the next he’s ducking from gun fire and making a run for it.

Jey managed to get out of the situation unscathed and get in his car before driving away. As he drove he smacked his steering wheel yelling curse words. Roman is going to skin him alive! He had spent a good amount of money on these deals and Roman had given him the trust and he had blew it!

Jey knew the reason his head wasn’t in the game and not that he wasn’t taking blame, he knew it was because of her.

-

“Come on Jey, the last time you ‘travelled for work’ you disappeared for two weeks on me.” YN whined as she lay in the sheets, naked from their weekly hook up. Hey was throwing his T-shirt on before signing. YN rolled onto her stomach and smirked up at Jey. “One more night?”

Jey leaned down placed a long kiss on her lips before pulling away.

“There’s more where that came from when I’m back.” He replied flirtatiously which seemed to satisfy YN for the moment. He grabbed his bag and winked at YN before he left.

-

He had been texting YN on his way to the pick up location, too distracted to check his surroundings. If he did he would’ve noticed the men eyeing him suspiciously. Usually when he does a deal like this, no one really pays attention to you. It’s a sort of ritual they all did to show trust, and Jey failed to miss it this time due to looking at the suggestive photos YN had sent him.

As Jey arrived back at the house he was bracing himself for the absolute annihilation he was about to receive. He got out of his car and walked into the house greeting Jimmy and Solo on the way in.

“Roman’s looking for you, and he ain’t happy twin.” Jimmy said with a worried look on his face. Jey groaned before scratching the back of his neck. Jimmy’s concern never wavered and Jey knew he was done for.

“I bet he ain’t.” Jey replied. He thought he should do the better thing and go find Roman himself. He stalled his way up the stairs, roaming the corridors before he stopped at Roman’s office and knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.” Romans deep voice made Jey stumble a little bit before he opened the door and greeted his cousin.

“Hey boss, look-”

“Shut up Jey. I don’t want to hear any excuses.” Roman scolded and Jey instantly shut his mouth. “I wanna know why you’ve arrived with no weapons and a possible tail by the fucking FBI?” He asked quietly but scarily.

“Im not sure uce-”

“But it’s not the first time is it uce? You almost got caught by the FBI two weeks ago when I asked you to go a find the man who took my stash!” Roman said his volume increasing.

Jey took a deep breath hanging his head.

“Im sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Because if it does happen again, I’m sure you’re going to regret it.” Roman threatened before dismissing Jey. Jey left and closed the door behind him before grunting and muttering to himself as he walked off.

Roman leant back in his desk scratching his beard before loading up his computer. He plugged in a USB before loading up the documents that track his family members phone activity. He had set up this system just incase he thought any of them would try to betray him.

As he clicked on Jeys name a number of images had popped up on his screen. Roman could feel himself getting hard at the sight of the woman on his screen. Some pictures where she lay naked, others wearing ridiculously sexy lingerie.

As he got to the most recent one he saw the time and knew exactly what had gotten into Jey, or rather what he had gotten into in the last few months.

“Well this just got a little bit more interesting.”

[thatsrightice]

HOW TO BECOME A FIGHTER PILOT

So as you may or may not know, I am writing a fanfic. Unfortunately for me, I can never do things half way, and because aviation is my passion I must do hours of research on a particular subject that I probably won't even use or reference in said fanfic. Here is a guide for how our favorite characters (probably) became fighter pilots. If there are inaccuracies let me know, I want to know :)

United States Naval Academy

The USNA is an undergraduate college that is a combination of academics and military development programs. Students who want to go into Flight School could qualify with one of a variety of different majors, but there are particular majors that obviously may provide a bit of an advantage to aspiring pilots. The USNA currently offers a variety of different majors and minors, though there are fewer than you might expect from a typical university, and overall the degrees are more tailored towards the Navy. They encourage participation in athletics in the form of a Varsity or club/intramural sport(1). 

NOTE: Maverick likely attended a regular college and was a part of the Naval ROTC program at that school. He would have gotten his degree in a field relevant to aviation, likely Mechanical Engineering given his mechanical aptitude seen in Top Gun Maverick, and then attended the 13-week program called Officer Candidate School. To be honest, Maverick’s path within the Navy is a mess and impossible to follow but in the most straightforward scenario, he would go to flight school following Officer Candidate School.

Flight School 

Flight School is an approximately 2-year-long program that is required for Naval Aviators to earn their wings. Primarily located at the “Cradle of Naval Aviation” aka Pensacola, FL, flight school consists of many different phases that will divide students into different specializations. 

1. Naval Introductory Flight Evaluation (NIFE)

Divided into four phases, NIFE is a program that evaluates students’ aeronautical aptitude as well as screens them to ensure they’re capable of becoming aviators. Students may earn a “pink sheet” for any score below 80% or a failure of a task, requiring them to stand before a panel of instructors to explain why they failed and how they plan to improve. Too many pink sheets result in removal from the program(2).

1a. Water Survival Training Following medical clearance, students are taught and tested on their ability to swim while wearing flight gear as well as formerly instructed on various survival techniques and CPR(2).

1b. Academics  A 3-week phase where students take classes and exams in five subjects. It is condensed to test a student’s ability to retain information, learn new information in a high-stress environment, and challenge their self-discipline in regard to time management and other areas(2).

1c. Introductory Flight Screening (IFS) Students are entered into a 2-week-long modified civilian flight training program where one week is dedicated to ground school courses before they must conduct a series of flights in a Cessna using Navy flight procedures during the second week. Students had to memorize and prioritize information to complete the flights, specifically in regard to conducting pre-flight briefings and emergency procedures. Overall, they’ll conduct seven flights in which they are required to complete a set of standardized maneuvers(2). 

1d. Aviation Physiology A week-long training course that consists of emergency-specific training evolutions such as the hypoxia chamber, emergency first aid, and the “helo dunker.” The “helo dunker” (from what I understand) is a particular training device that consists of strapping a pilot into a cockpit-like or helicopter contraption within a pool and submerging the entire structure under the water, simulating an environment in which their aircraft has landed in the water and they need to escape from the seat(3). An image of this can be seen below(2).

The Top Gun cast had to undergo a similar training course in order to be allowed to fly in military airplanes for filming. A video of some of their training can be viewed below.

2b. Aviation Pre-Flight Indoctrination

A 6-week long program that marks the beginning of the aviation pipeline. Located in Pensacola, FL, students attend classes covering the basics of aerodynamics, weather in relation to aviation, air navigation, flight rules and regulations, and aircraft engines and systems (3). 

Prior to API, those interested in becoming Radar Intercept Officers (RIO) will have expressed their interest and requested a designation as a Naval Flight Officer (NFO). 

2c. Primary Flight Training

A 6-month-long program that teaches the students the basics of flying. There are two locations for Primary, one at Training Air Wing 5 at Naval Air Station Whiting Field in Pensacola, FL, or Training Air Wing 4 at Naval Air Station Corpus Christi in Corpus Christi, TX. Both Naval Air Stations (NAS) are taught the same curriculum and fly the same aircraft, the T-6 Texan II. The students learn about the instruments, flight basics, radio instrument navigation, formation flying, and aerobatics, and also conduct several solo flights. At the end of Primary, students choose which pipeline they would like. This is conducted depending on the needs of the Navy and how many spots are available(3). 

Obviously, Iceman, Slider, Goose, Cougar, and everyone else got Jets, though they may not have gone through flight school at the same time. 

2d. Intermediate Flight Training

Intermediate Flight Training is a 27-week program. Split into five platforms; Jet, E2/C2, Helicopter, Maritime, and E-6 TACAMO. The jet platform flight training focuses more on navigation, air traffic control, individual skills, and cooperative skills of flying jets. The intermediate flight training program for jets is located at Meridian, MS (Training Air Wing One) at either VT-7 or VT-9, and Kingsville, TX (Training Air Wing Two) at either VT-21 or VT-22, both of which teach the same curriculum. Students in the jet platform will complete 58 graded flights in the T-45C Goshawk jet trainer aircraft(3). 

2e. Advanced Flight Training

Similar to Intermediate Flight Training, the program is split into five platforms but lasts 23 weeks. The students will probably have stayed with the same training squadron throughout the intermediate and advanced flight training. This stage includes learning skills specific to the chosen platform. The Advanced Flight Training program for jets is what’s called the Strike Syllabus. The Strike Syllabus includes an additional 67 graded flights in the T-45 covering air combat maneuvers, low-level navigation, tactical formation flying, and aircraft carrier qualifications. Students will then graduate from Advanced Flight Training with the Wings of Gold(3). 

3. Squadron Selection 

The final selection process assigns naval aviators to a particular squadron based on the needs of the service. Naval Aviators are assigned to a fleet replacement squadron or other similar training assignments for further training on their specific aircraft type. Here, RIOs and pilots must become qualified by gaining the required flight hours and meeting the proficiency standards necessary.

NOTE: It’s kind of hard to figure out when exactly the RIO training occurs. I know it takes place over the course of all the primary through advanced training occurs as well but I’m not sure if they have to attend seperate courses for it. 

TOPGUN

From there, pilots and RIOs may have been moved to their first official squadron for deployment. They would have been in their first squadron for approximately one and a half years, deploying with them. Their squadron would come back from a deployment and during the stand-down time before their next deployment, their commanding officer would select them to go to TOPGUN.

Sources

(1) https://www.usna.edu/homepage.php

(2) https://www.navy.mil/Press-Office/News-Stories/Article/2944668/nife-lays-foundation-for-naval-aviation-training/

(3) https://www.cnatra.navy.mil/tw4/flight-school.asp

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.0 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, time jump of a month and a half / two months

…

“Your sister is fucking insane.” Bradley grunts.

“Shut up and just lift your end,” Jake demands, straying under the weight of lifting his end of the couch. A soft sigh and the two of them lift again, hoisting more than their combined body weight’s worth of sectional sofa. “And she wasn’t crazy until you got her pregnant.”

“I can hear you!” You call back from the small kitchen. Sitting cross-legged on the black and white diamond shaped tile, surrounded by boxes and new plates and bubble wrap. Your system for unpacking is fool-proof and they’ll just get in the way if they try to help. That’s why you’ve had them rearrange the layout of the living room three times already.

There isn’t too much left in your life that you have control over these days. Graduating two years early, at the top of your class, and the only people there to be proud of you were your big brother and the guy who got you pregnant. Delaying your grad job, which you worked your ass off to get, until after you’ve given birth. Finding out you had been approved to switch to their Florida office in an email from your father’s secretary.

Moving to a place you’ve never been before, with a guy you didn’t even like up until recently. Carrying a child that’ll probably never have a name because you and Bradley barely agree on anything. Knowing that Jake, your only constant through this entire ordeal, is shipping off to basic training in a day and a half.

Everything’s hurtling forwards, you can practically hear the time rushing by like wind in your ears. Dragged along with it, no choice but to keep up, there’s a voice in your head that keeps telling you it’s okay to be scared. You just aren’t sure if it’s okay to be this scared.

He’s moving around more and more these days, growing stronger and bigger. His kicks are no longer butterflies in your tummy, but now pinpointed and real, which is terrifying in itself. More recently, you’ve been wondering if he can feel how afraid you are. You don’t want him to worry.

By hell or high water, you’re going to give this little boy all the love that you’ve got. Afraid or not, he needs you and you’ll keep going for him. Being good for him is just about all you can manage. That, and unpacking the way that you need to.

Setting the plates in a cabinet, stacking bowls, glasses in an overhead cupboard. Ignoring Jake and Bradley’s bickering to the best of your ability.

Florida’s even hotter than you were expecting. It’s the last day of May and the air conditioning isn’t getting fixed until tomorrow. Home is no longer an upstairs apartment or a cramped room on the first floor of a fraternity. It’s now an almost two bedroom downstairs unit on a quiet, residential street in west Pensacola.

Living room with fireplace, fully equipped kitchen with new stove and refrigerator. Dark brown, LVP floors and new paint throughout. You have your own Lanai and storage outside unit. Also includes washer and dryer. This northeast location is tucked away in a private dead end street but has easy access to the new University shopping area. It’s nice for a first place. The bedroom is a decent size, and the spare room will work as a nursery, even if its intended purpose was an office.

Your relationship with Bradley has turned into a type of Schrödinger problem. Neither together nor apart. Sharing a room, preparing to share a life, with little more in common than the future you roped him into. He seems excited now. He’s jealous that you can feel the baby and that he can’t. He’s looking forward to meeting his son.

But, as you turn your head and look through the archway, towards him wiping sweat from his brow in the living room, guilt surges through you. Wearing gym shorts and a backwards cap, those stupid roman numerals tattooed on his bicep as he sighs softly and leans his head back, he looks so young.

You’re younger, but this decision was yours. You wonder if he would choose this if he got to do it all over again. Certainly not. All those years of carefree fun, getting to be himself finally, figuring out who he is. Now, those years belong to your son. Swallowing softly, you turn your attention back to the only thing that you can control.

Arranging spices in the rack hung over the stove.

The afternoon hurtles by just as quickly as all of the other days have recently. The routine is the same. Jake takes the couch, glad that Bradley sprung for the corner sectional that’s just about as good as sleeping on the mattress. After a day of not really talking, Bradley slips into bed beside you.

It’s never awkward, but it probably should be. Sharing all of this. A lease, a child, a future, with someone that isn’t even really yours.

“Man, I am fucking exhausted.” Bradley mumbles as his head hits the pillow, exhaling slowly into the comfort of this new space. Your first night in your new home with him. So, you connect with him in just about the only way you ever have.

Even with this protruding, exceedingly rounded stomach, somehow he still wants to fuck you at every opportunity he gets. Looking in the mirror these days is getting harder. It’s not that you have an issue with the way you look now, you think the bump is actually kind of cute. It’s just that you don’t look anything like you used to, and you’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever be that girl again.

Running your fingers through his curls, you lean over and kiss his temple softly. He hums at the feeling, reaching out and resting his hand on your hip. He turns his head and waits for you to kiss him without opening his eyes. You press your lips softly to his, his fingers curling softly to press into the fabric of your shorts. You ask gently, lips grazing his, “Too tired?”

His lips tilt up into a soft smile as he runs his fingers along the waistband of your bottoms, brown eyes flickering up to meet yours, “Never been too tired for sex.”

Turning the two of you over, he settles between your legs, working his talented mouth along all the exposed skin that he can reach.

Curling his fingers into your roots, he moans softly into the curve of your jaw, pressing delicate kisses along your throat. Part of these past few weeks has been learning your cues, your sweet spots and your sensitivities. He’s getting good at it. It’s right as you hum and lift your hips eagerly against his that there’s a sharp jolt, a soft, dull pain as the impact hits your mid-section.

Bradley sits back quickly on his knees.

You groan in complaint, rubbing over the sore spot at the top of your developing bump. It’s only once you lean your head back to sigh in complaint that you clock the look on his face. Eyes blown wide, lips parted, staring at you like you just grew a second head.

Over the past few weeks, the little guy has been getting more and more active. Wriggling around a lot, you’ve been feeling him almost constantly the past few days. It has been ridiculously frustrating, suffering in silence, Bradley constantly frowning and telling you that he can’t feel anything. The realization comes quickly.

“Was that him?” Bradley breathes out softly, brows scrunching together.

You push yourself up on your elbows, lips quirking softly. The pregnancy websites said that Bradley should have been able to feel the kicks about a week ago, you were getting worried. Bradley reaches out again and tenderly rests his hands against the bottom of your rounded stomach.

The two of you wait patiently for it to happen again, Bradley’s lips falling into a disappointed frown as your baby stops kicking. He sighs, moving to lie down beside you and smoothing his hand over the top of your stomach as he kisses your cheek.

“I’m jealous that you get to feel him all the time, moving around in there,” He mumbles, shaking his head softly. “It’s like you’ve met him already and I have to wait three more months.”

You scoff, settling down onto the sheets that you had picked out, staring at the white ceiling, “I don’t think you’d be as jealous if he was kicking your bladder like he kicks mine.”

“Probably no—“ As Bradley speaks, your lips part, jolted by another soft kick. He raises his eyebrows as you grab one of his hands and place it over your stomach. Nothing again. He furrows his brows slightly, glancing up at you expectantly.

“Say something.” You prod him.

“Um… like what? — I don’t know what to say to a —“ His sentence stops abruptly, jaw hanging open as he feels a small but unmistakable kick against his palm. “Holy shit, that’s what you’ve been feel— He did it again!”

You giggle, resting your hand on top of Bradley’s as he beams at you, “I think he likes your voice.”

His eyes widen slightly, making him look even younger than he is. It’s hard to tell whether it’s excitement or fear on his face to begin with. He leans down and presses lips to your stomach.

“I am so,” he stops, kissing your skin tenderly again, hands cradling your growing bump. “So excited to meet you, little man.”

Your heart feels like it just about splits into two and you aren’t even sure why. It’s supposed to be a happy moment. You should be happy about this. Bradley feels a slight hiccup and glances up. Your eyes are filled with tears, stinging and threatening to spill out onto your cheeks.

“Hey,” Bradley says softly as he shifts up the bed and wraps his arms around you. “Hey… it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

You swallow, trying to hold in a sob that consumes your chest and strangles your vocal chords. Sniffling, you rest your head against his shoulder. “Do you wish that we weren’t having him?”

His brows scrunch together as he tries to piece together what about that interaction could have possibly given you that impression.

“Of course not! — Where’s this coming from?” He frowns, resting his cheek against the top of your head as he smooths his fingers along your back. You’re in your third trimester now, and the pregnancy websites said that your hormones might be kind of out of whack. But you got through graduation without a hitch.

It’s as the thought crosses his mind that you break in his arms. Hunching forwards, sobbing into your hands, covering your mouth so that Jake won’t hear you crying from the living room.

“Hey… did — did I say something wrong?” Bradley asks gently, face creasing in concern. He kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I—“

You sniffle and shake your head. “Don’t say sorry. Please.”

“…Okay,” He smooths his palm tenderly along your spine once again, now totally lost. “Babe, I think you’re gonna have to spell it out for me here. What should I do?”

It’s not fair on him, any of this. You pull yourself together long enough to wipe your tear-stained cheeks and string together a sentence. “Just… if we could go back and do it all again, would you… do it like this?”

“I’d probably have suggested a plan B or something.”

You look up, eyes filled with tears, throat burning.

“I’m sorry, bad time for a joke,” He shakes his head quickly and kisses your forehead. “Look, we both know that this wasn’t planned. But it happened, it’s happening — and no, I don’t regret being here with you.”

You allow yourself to sink into his arms as he kisses the top of your head and squeezes you softly.

“Is everything okay with you?” His fingers graze along the nape of your neck and over your shoulder softly. “You’ve not really said a lot to me since graduation.”

He smooths his hand over your stomach, feeling another soft kick against his palm. It’s almost midnight now, he hopes that this kid isn’t going to be this much of a night owl once it’s born.

“Everything’s just moving really fast.” You say quietly as you settle back down onto your side. Bradley copies, laying on his side so that he’s facing you, his stomach pressed to yours. He nods slowly. “Jake’s leaving, and you’re starting work, and my parents still won’t talk to me. The baby doesn’t even have a name. I’m just scared.”

He leans forwards and kisses your mouth softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

A dry laugh escapes your lips, it’s a helpless thing, really. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and shake your head slowly, “How are you so chilled out about this?”

“I’m not,” He promises, voice quiet, something in the way that he looks at you so earnestly makes you soften. “I’m scared too. But we’ll figure it out.”

A silence lingers between the two of you. No more tears, no more lump in your throat, your heart rate slowing enough that you think you might actually manage to sleep tonight. Bradley leans forwards and kisses your cheek, then flicks off the bedside lamp.

You turn onto your other side and he presses himself into your back, wrapping an arm around you and resting it against your stomach. He’s been sleeping like this for the past week straight. It always settles his racing mind. Having both of you in his arms.

He’s warm. Lips press gently to your neck and he hums softly into the curve of your neck.

You exhale softly, shuffling back against his bare chest. This feels awfully grown up. Seven months pregnant, laying skin to skin, in your new shared home.

The next morning, it’s time to drive Jake to the airport. Basic training is three months long. The next time he sees you, you’ll be a mother.

“I love you,” He says softly, wrapping his arms around you. Your stomach bumps into his as you hug him. He’s still getting used to that. “I’m gonna be back before you know it.”

“I know, I know,” You breathe out, squeezing him tighter and then patting his back as you let go. “Just be safe. Don’t do anything stupid.”

…

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Jake chuckles, giving a quick shrug as he picks his bag up from the floor and slings it over his shoulder. His attention turns to Bradley. “Take care of my sister, Bradshaw.”

“Always.” Bradley answers. You turn your head and scrunch your brows slightly as you look up at him. He drapes an arm around your shoulder and offers Jake a sincere smile.

As Jake turns and heads towards his gate, the two of you are left together. Him still leaning into your side. Always. You stare at him. Flushed skin, wearing a faded grateful dead t-shirt and blue jeans, smiling at you.

Just you and him. Alone, in a new state. Him swearing always and you staying up at night and wondering if there’s even a tomorrow between the two of you.

Ten weeks left until your due date.

…

[kabillieu]

For the past week I’ve been smelling sweet olive all over our neighborhood but couldn’t locate where it was coming from, so I felt crazy. Yesterday I finally found some. I think what I’m smelling is coming from bushes planted close to people’s houses, and I can’t recognize them from the street.

It’s made me think about associating smells with places. This is something I don’t remember doing in childhood. Maybe the closest is lake water? Honeysuckle? I don’t have a smell associated with San Antonio, where we lived for a year 20 years ago. But I associate lilacs with Omaha, star jasmine and gardenias with Pensacola, Russian olive trees with Boulder and Colorado Springs, and sweet olive with the Montgomery area of Alabama.

I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve been struggling tremendously lately, but I’m grateful for the sweet olive that’s blooming right now. It’s a really beautiful smell.

[gothhabiba]

More fun with Lazy Researcher Telephone leading to the circulation of completely false information:

A 1764 court document (re-discovered by Gwendolin Mildo Hall) is currently believed to be the oldest reference to gumbo (as in the okra-and-meat stew, not okra itself). Shane K. Bernard said in 2011 that Hall had mentioned the document in a lecture, but she presumably didn't give detailed information, since he ended up e-mailing her to get the actual citation.

She pointed him to the Louisiana Historical Center, who sent him a copy of the document in question, which he posted a small snippet from. You don't have to contact the LHC to get the full document--it's been digitised (look towards the bottom right of page 4/21 for the reference to "un gombeau"), along with other documents pertaining to the same court case.

That lecture wasn't the only place where Hall had elaborated. Earlier, in 2005, Hall had published Slavery and African Ethnicities in the Americas: Restoring the Links, which contains a passage talking about Comba / Julia, the woman whose testimony contains the reference to "gombeau" (Bernard didn't mention this book). She describes what led to the 1764 court proceedings--fugitive slave Louis dit Foy "had organized a cooperative network among slaves, runaways, thieves, seamstresses, and street vendors" and the group 'stole' food for their social gatherings. Hall says of two women who were members of this group:

Comba and Louison, both Mandingo women in their fifties, were vendors selling cakes and other goods along the streets of New Orleans. They maintained an active social life, organized feasts where they ate and drank very well, cooked gumbo filé and rice, roasted turkeys and chickens, barbecued pigs and fish, smoked tobacco and drank rum. (Slavery and African Ethnicities, University of North Carolina Press, 2005, p. 99)

Hall cites as the source of her information "Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, May 6 and May 10, 1768, contract between Evan Jones of Pensacola and Durand Brothers; declaration by Captain Peter Hill. Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, 1768.05.10.02, Louisiana Historical Center, New Orleans" (FN 36, p. 187).

It is unclear from Hall's text whether "gumbo filé" is specifically named or described in these court documents (if it is, I have not yet found it--and it also seems strange that Hall wouldn't have pointed Bernard to that location), or what other reason Hall might have for asserting this. It may just be an assumption of her's. As written, it sounds like the "gombeau" mentioned isn't even sure to be modern "gumbo" (as Bernard points out, a dish of stewed okra with butter was called "gumbo" at this time and later). Hall's research interests do not centre around food.

From this point, someone must have found Bernard's reference to this court document, and also found the paraphrasing of the case proceedings in Hall's book. They must have mentioned the court document without quoting or citing it; and they must have quoted the passage from Hall that I quoted above, also without citing it, and made it seem as though the Hall passage was in the court document. Whoever this unforgiveable bumbling can be traced back to, whether him or someone else, Lolis Eric Elie at least recreated it. In 2005, he wrote in a letter to the New York Times:

The first known printed reference to gumbo was made in reference to food eaten not by French immigrants, but by African maroons who had escaped slavery in Louisiana. This passage, from a 1764 court document, was uncovered by Gwendolyn Midlo Hall, author of "Africans in Colonial Louisiana": "Comba and Louison, both Mandingo women in their 50's [sic], were vendors selling cakes and other goods along the streets of New Orleans. They maintained an active social life, organized feasts where they ate and drank very well, cooked gumbo filé and rice, roasted turkeys and chickens, barbecued pigs and fish, smoked tobacco and drank rum."

And then someone must have read that letter and believed Elie that that paragraph of Hall's was in the 1764 court document (it doesn't exactly sound like the kind of language I would expect to have been written as a summary of court proceedings in 1764, but I suppose they didn't think to check...)

So now, as a result of all of this jumbling of assumptions with evidence, and unwillingness to track down actual primary sources (even when someone has already digitised and quoted and translated them for you!), you have people confidently asserting that "gumbo filé" was specifically mentioned for the first time in 1764.

For example, Jonathan Olivier, writing for The Bitter Southerner in 2021, writes:

Looking back further at the historical record, there is more evidence of distinctions between types of gumbo. The first recorded mention of gumbo is from a 1764 court document involving escaped enslaved Africans, found by historian Gwendolyn Midlo Hall [...]. “Comba and Louison, both Mandingo women in their 50s [sic], were vendors selling cakes and other goods along the streets of New Orleans. They maintained an active social life, organized feasts where they ate and drank very well, cooked gumbo filé and rice, roasted turkeys and chickens, barbecued pigs and fish, smoked tobacco and drank rum.” The entire term “gumbo filé” is mentioned, a deliberate effort to highlight a soup thickened with powdered sassafras, not okra.

Yes, Olivier, the term "gumbo filé" was mentioned... by Gwendolin Hall in 2005, not by Comba in 1764! What a mess! What an absolute disgrace of a mess. Lmao.

[lukin08]

Up In The Air Chapter 2

Kristanna Modern AU

Rated: T

WC: 2568

Summary: Tired of her nomad lifestyle, traveling nurse Anna Arendelle on a whim picks Pensacola Florida as her new town to try find a sense of home. Meanwhile, Navy Pilot Kristoff Bjorgman has accepted a dream position at the Naval station in the same town. After a chance encounter goes south, the two of them find their lives entwined, with neither of them all that happy about it!

Also available on AO3

Previous chapter

“So have you given it any thought?”

Anna opened her locker smiling and shaking her head as her co-worker, Camila, sat down near her.  “Not really.”

“Come on, it will be fun.  Everyone’s going.”

“Everyone?”  Anna quickly threw her things in the locker.  She really needed to tidy it up soon.  She had a bad habit of throwing whatever in there until it was an unorganized disaster.  But that would have to wait until another day as she glanced quickly at Camila.  They had been walking out of the hospital together whenever they were on the same shift, sometimes even grabbing a coffee afterwards on particularly hard days.  The one thing she already knew about Camila was she did not want to stay a second longer at work than necessary.

“Yes, everyone,” Camila said, standing to leave.  “And you should be there too.”

Anna grabbed her purse, slamming the locker closed.  A lone piece of paper flew out from the force and floated down, sliding when it hit the floor directly into Camila’s foot.  She picked it up, starting to look it over before Anna snatched it back.

“What’s that?”

“Nosey, aren’t we?” Anna said, giving a little smirk so Camila would know she wasn’t upset.  

“Anything in the common area is fair game.  Seriously that looked official.  What is it?”

“It’s nothing really.  I was asked if I was interested in representing the nursing staff on the community outreach team.  I have prior experience from other hospitals that line up with what they do here.”

“Sounds like extra work without the extra pay.  Are you going to do it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

They made their way down the corridors heading to parking garage.  Camila took a sudden turn at a door when they made it to ground level.  She had shown Anna this route on the first nice day.  A direct walk outside to the parking garage.  Anna smiled as the sun hit her face.  November hit different down here than the cold dreary Northeast fall and winters she had grown up with.  

“Are you really thinking about not going?” Camila said, bringing up the topic again.

Anna paused, trying to think of an excuse.  “I don’t really know anyone that well yet and- “

Camila stopped in her tracks, turning to Anna.  “And everyone on the team already loves you.”

“Really?”  Anna cocked an eyebrow.  “Even Sue?”

Camila let out a loud laugh.  “Especially Sue!  She may be a little…outgoing, but she has the best heart and she’s had nothing but nice things to say about you.  Seriously Anna.  I know you’ve only been working here less two months, but it’s like you’ve always been here.  You fit in so great.”

A warmth spread across Anna’s chest at those words.  She had been searching for so long for a sense of belonging and this was the first hospital she had worked at in years that felt right.  “That’s really nice to hear.”

It really had been that long.  After spending the last five years as a traveling nurse, Anna had grown tired of the constant moving.  Sure, the pay had been great, and she got to see different parts of the country, but it had also started to wear on her.  A growing part of her also knew that for her, being a traveling nurse was as much running away from her lonely past as it was wanting to see the country.   She finally agreed that “doing the sensible thing”, as her sister always suggested, and finding a permanent location was for the best.

Going home was out of the question for her.  So, she figured out areas of the country that were most in need of nursing staff, narrowed it down to ten, wrote the cities on pieces of paper, threw them into a bowl and blindly grabbed one.  Pensacola it was.  It really had been that simple.  Luckily her first choice in hospitals in the area had an opening in the department she wanted, and the rest all fell into place.

“Alright, tell me where everyone is going,” Anna said as they began to walk again. 

Camila flashed the largest grin.  “Does that mean you’re going?”

Anna held out her arm toward Camila. “Twist my arm.”

Camila giggled.  “Rocklin’s.  Towards the naval base.  It’s a center point from where everyone lives.  Nothing overly fancy, but it’s good food, good people, good music.  You’ll love it!”

“Sounds…wait, did you say by the naval base?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“So, there’ll be military there?”

“Yes.  It’s Pensacola, where don’t you see the military?”

“Point taken.  But I know Sue is going to be on a mission to set me up at the bar.”

“Definitely.”

“…with a sailor.” 

Camila laughed again.  “I don’t think Sue is that particular.  And to be fair, it’s not that big of a Navy bar.  I think it’s mostly officers that do show up.  At least it could be someone with rank.”

“No thank you.”

“Was it really that bad?”

“Ugh.”  Anna thought back to the one date she’d been on since moving down to Pensacola.  “If you like going out with a pretentious know it all that doesn’t stop talking about himself the whole time, then no.  I swear Camila, that was enough.  I’ve had my fill of dating anyone in the military, officers included.”

“I don’t know.  Some of them aren’t too bad looking and you don’t have date anyone.  Nothing wrong with having a little fun and done.”

“Camila!”

Camila grabbed Anna’s arm.  “Tell you what.  I’ve got your back.  You don’t have to talk to anyone, no matter what Sue says.  We’re here to have fun.  That’s it.  I promise.  So, it’s set.  You’re going!  I’ll even drive.”

“Thank you, but I’ll have to meet you.  I’m working the afternoon at Dr. Intilli’s.”

“Again?  Girl, if you aren’t at the hospital, you’re there!  When do you take time to relax?”

“I like to stay busy.”

“Stay busy at the beach!  It’s called taking a break.”

Anna thought about Camila’s words.  She had been working in her free time at one of the ob/gyn offices.  She adored working with the patients there and seeing some of them full circle when they came on the maternity ward, but Camila did have a point.  Maybe she should cut down on the number of hours she was working and take the time to explore her new home.

“I will.  Maybe after they hire- “

The roar shook Anna to her bones.  She jumped and threw her gaze to the sky in time to see two blue blurs pass by.  A few seconds later four more, slower and higher jets in a tight diamond pattern passed over the hospital.  Everyone stopped to look up.  A few cheered before the formation disappeared past the tree line.

“Looks like practice for the next season has started.”  Camila said, nonchalantly.

“What was that?” Anna asked as she tried to assess the state of her hearing. 

Camila tilted her head with a confused look.  “What do you mean, ‘what was that?’  It’s the Blue Angels.”

“The who?”

Camila looked almost disgusted at Anna’s question.  “You cannot be serious.  The Blue Angels?  You know, the Navy demonstration team?  The ones you see at shows?  The big blue fighter jets?  Ringing any bells?”  Camila stopped and stared at Anna waiting for some recognition.

“No bells, just ears.”  Anna tugged at her ear. She had a vague idea of what Camila was talking about.  But not to the level she was expecting of Anna.  “What are they doing here?”

The look of bewilderment on Camila’s turned to understanding.  “That’s right, this is new to you!  The team ended last season before you moved here.  Get used to them.  They are stationed at NAS here.  It’s an institution around these parts.”

“Is it always this loud?”

“They don’t usually fly that close to the hospital.  It must be a welcome back flyby.  The patients get a kick out of seeing them out the windows.  Anyway, we should be done now with the noise.  What were you saying?”

Anna waved her off.  “It wasn’t important.”

“Oh, I remember.  Less work, more play.” Camila bumped Anna's shoulder playfully.

“Something like that.”

“Hey, who knows.  Maybe you’ll meet a handsome airman on Friday.” The twinkle in Camila's eyes looked like trouble.

Anna rolled her eyes and said definitively.  “Absolutely not.”

[monarch-afterdark]

Titan History: Methuselah

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

For today's communication, we look to a Titan that spent untold centuries hiding in plain sight, becoming one with nature so expertly, that nobody knew it was there until it rose up; the Titan sentinel, Methuselah.

(Pictured above: Methuselah rising up from his resting place outside of Munich, circa. 2019)

Monarch Database File: Methuselah

Monarch Designation: Titanus Methuselah

Height: 322 feet

Weight: 170,000 tons

Nature: Bio-Geological

Behavioural Classification: Protector

-----

While Methuselah may be lacking in the elemental abilities embraced by a range of other Titans, he makes up for it by embodying the land itself. Carrying a colossal mountain and forest upon his back, Methuselah can seemlessly blend in to any natural environment, burrowing himself underground to hide the rest of his hulking frame.

Arguably the most defensively capable of the Titans, Methuselah's build makes him an extremely durable creature, able to shrug off most attacks and bulldoze other Titans with his size in battle. Throughout history, Methuselah has shielded humanity from disaster and carried civilisations to safety, acting as a living Ark that has guided humanity through catastrophe time and time again.

(Pictured above: An X-Ray scan of Methuselah, part of Monarch's bioacoustic database)

Sometime in the distant past, Methuselah came into contact with a village outside of Munich, Germany. The Titan completely flattened the village, reducing it to ruin, before claiming the site as his resting place. As centuries passed, a legend formed around this mysterious mountain that just appeared in place of the village one day. It wasn't until Monarch came across Methuselah that the truth had become known.

In 2019, Methuselah finally rose up to answer Monster Zero's alpha call, pulling himself up from the ground and approaching Munich. He ravaged the city until the ORCA pacified him, and he made his way to Boston. He was one of the few Titans that made it to Boston in time to see Godzilla claiming his status as Alpha Titan.

In 2024, shortly before Godzilla's Pensacola attack, he seemed to be on a trajectory from South America to wherever Methuselah had taken up new residence. According to Monarch, Godzilla was only 100 miles from Methuselah's location before pivoting to Pensacola.

While no other major events involving Methuselah have been reported since 2019, it should be noted that the Titan earned the nickname "Archie" from some Monarch staff due to spending an unknown period of time posing as a remote island in a Canadian archipelago.

(Pictured above: Recorded footage of Methuselah's rampage through Munich, circa. 2019)

-----

And there you go! While Methuselah continues to remain in a state of dormancy, Monarch do advise the public that the slumbering Titan could well be anywhere, disguised as a mountain or remote island anywhere in the world. So, you never know, the ground you tread upon may well be the back of this impressive Titan.

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

[whataburger-menus]

What States Have Whataburger?

If you’ve ever wondered where to find one of America’s favorite burger chains, you’re in the right place. Whataburger has built a reputation for serving delicious, customizable burgers, crispy fries, and a range of other menu items that have gained a cult-like following. Whether you're a longtime fan or a first-timer, discovering where Whataburger operates can help satisfy your cravings. To explore the full menu and learn more, visit https://whataburger-menus.com/.

A Brief History of Whataburger

Whataburger was founded in 1950 in Corpus Christi, Texas, by Harmon Dobson, who envisioned a burger so big and tasty that customers would exclaim, "What a burger!" Since then, the chain has grown into a regional powerhouse with over 900 locations across the southern United States. Known for its distinctive orange-and-white-striped roofs and 24/7 service, Whataburger has become a symbol of quality and convenience.

But where exactly can you find a Whataburger? Let’s break it down state by state.

States with Whataburger Locations

1. Texas

Texas is the birthplace of Whataburger and remains its stronghold. With over 700 locations, the Lone Star State has more Whataburger restaurants than any other state. From bustling urban centers like Houston, Dallas, and Austin to smaller towns, Whataburger is deeply embedded in Texas culture. Texans often view it as more than just a fast-food chain—it’s a beloved institution.

2. Oklahoma

Neighboring Texas to the north, Oklahoma boasts several Whataburger locations. Cities like Oklahoma City, Tulsa, and Norman are home to this burger chain, making it a popular choice for locals and travelers alike.

3. Arizona

Whataburger’s presence extends into the Southwest, with Arizona hosting multiple locations. Cities such as Phoenix, Tucson, and Tempe feature this iconic chain, catering to the state’s burger-loving residents.

4. New Mexico

In New Mexico, this restaurant is a go-to spot for satisfying hunger. Major cities like Albuquerque and Las Cruces host several outlets, blending the chain’s classic offerings with the state’s unique Southwestern charm.

5. Louisiana

Louisiana’s vibrant culinary culture includes a few Whataburger locations. While the state is famous for its Cajun and Creole dishes, Whata-burger has carved out a niche, especially in cities like Shreveport and Baton Rouge.

6. Arkansas

Arkansas is another southern state where this restaurant has established a presence. Locations in cities like Little Rock and Fayetteville serve up classic menu items to residents and visitors alike.

7. Florida

In the Sunshine State, this place has expanded its reach, particularly in the northern regions. Cities like Jacksonville, Pensacola, and Tallahassee are home to Whataburger restaurants, making it a favorite among Floridians.

8. Mississippi

Mississippi is home to several of this restaurant locations, particularly in the southern part of the state. Residents in areas like Gulfport and Biloxi can easily satisfy their cravings for a juicy Whataburger.

9. Alabama

Alabama has embraced Whataburger with open arms, hosting locations in cities like Birmingham, Mobile, and Montgomery. The chain’s commitment to quality resonates with the state’s residents.

10. Georgia

Although Whataburger’s presence in Georgia is smaller compared to other states, it still has a foothold in select areas. Cities near the western border, like Columbus, are known for their Whataburger spots.

11. Kansas

Kansas is another state where you’ll find a handful of this place's locations. Cities like Overland Park and Kansas City have welcomed the chain, offering Midwesterners a taste of its famous burgers.

12. Tennessee

Tennessee is among the newer states to join the Whata Burger family. With locations expanding into cities like Nashville and Memphis, this southern state is quickly becoming a hub for this fast food place's enthusiasts.

Why People Love Whataburger

Customization

One of the standout features of this place is its commitment to customization. Customers can personalize their burgers with a variety of toppings, sauces, and extras, ensuring every order is just right.

All-Day Service

Open 24/7, this food place caters to night owls and early risers alike. Whether it’s a late-night snack or an early-morning breakfast, you can always count on Whataburger.

Signature Items

Beyond its namesake burger, this burger chain offers a variety of fan-favorite items, such as the Honey Butter Chicken Biscuit, Whatachick’n sandwiches, and creamy milkshakes.

Regional Pride

For many, eating at this place is a source of pride. It’s a place where communities come together, and its regional identity adds to its charm.

How to Find a Whataburger Near You

If you’re planning a road trip or simply want to discover the nearest Whataburger, the chain’s official website and mobile app are excellent resources. These tools allow you to search by location, check operating hours, and even browse the menu.

Conclusion

Whether you’re a die-hard fan or a first-time visitor, Whataburger’s wide-ranging menu and iconic status make it a must-visit destination. While Texas remains the heart of Whataburger’s operations, its growing presence in other states ensures that more people can experience the magic of this beloved burger chain.

[icemavs]

Whiskey and Rye

a.k.a. The Fic Where There's Only One Bed Because the Navy Fucked Up Hotel Reservations The Dagger Crew got turned into a real-deal instructor squadron after the mission. They get sent on missions and demos to teach new pilots how to do what they do. On this trip to Florida, the WSOs are staying with their pilots, but Jake and Bradley, since they are WSO-less, have to room together. And the hotel fucked up. (10.8k, explicit, ao3)

In the five months since the mission and everyone returned to shore safely, the whole Dagger crew had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. With their incredible success, the Navy – along with some good words from both Cyclone and Maverick – had made them a special mission team. They were tasked to both fly and teach emerging dangerous missions that continued to pop up with the current state of international affairs. 

Between the group that had flown the actual mission and those that stayed behind on the carrier, there was more than enough down time for everyone to become close friends. They often mixed up who flew with who on training and teaching sorties so that they could become the most cohesive group of naval aviators on this side of the equator. Inside jokes formed, family histories were told, relationships were mended. Mostly. 

Jake and Bradley still seemed to be on each other’s bad sides regardless of the smiles shared on the carrier after Jake saved Maverick and Bradley’s asses. The tension that could be felt when the two were in a room together was so thick it could be cut with a knife, and the speed at which they argued with each other at the Hard Deck after a long, grueling day was a lot like going Mach 2. At least that was the way Bradley described it to Natasha one night when she was over at his place. 

“I just don’t understand why he has to be such a fucking asshole!” Bradley shouted as he paced, running a hand through his hair, gripping it and pulling at the top. 

“Bradshaw, calm down, Jesus,” Tasha said after taking a sip from her beer. She had to be used to these outbursts from Bradley and Jake by now, since she spent enough time with the both of them. “He’s probably just jealous of your flying or something.”

Bradley let out a frustrated grunt and sat back down on the couch with a huff. He was gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Phoenix reached forward from her spot on the recliner to save the bottle from suffocation or Bradley’s hand when he inevitably broke it. 

“So what happened today?” Phoenix asked him. “Did he leave you hanging again?” She was using a mocking tone, but her and Bob had been left to fend for themselves plenty of times to know it was realistic. 

“No, for once he didn’t,” he sighed. Bradley opened his mouth to say something else, but closed it and just scrubbed a hand down his face. Tasha didn’t say anything, she knew she didn’t need to. 

A phone chime sounded from the kitchen counter, saving Bradley from having to explain himself. He got up with the intention of checking the phone as well as grabbing himself and Tasha another beer. 

“Holy shit. Tash, come here,” he called from the kitchen. 

She slowly got up, knowing that it was either a warning message from Mav about a set of orders they were about to get handed tomorrow or Warlock letting them know they had a new class arriving next week. It was never anything they couldn’t handle. 

When she entered the kitchen, Bradley shoved his phone in her face and a beer into her hand. 

“They’re sending us to Florida,” he said. 

“Oh so this was a good ‘holy shit,’” she deadpanned.

“I guess.”

Bradley was more interested in the itinerary that had been sent out along with the location. He scrolled through the details, seeing that they were heading to NAS Pensacola to do a demo of their mission that brought them together for the pilot trainees and maintenance sailors and airmen. Seemed more like a vacation than actual training. They had done nothing but fly high stakes training sorties since they got back, so flying round in thick Florida airspace sounded like a lot of fun. A nice break. 

***

Two days later, half the team was at the Reno-Tahoe International Airport, bags checked and ready to get some of the sun and sand down in Florida for a few days. Though they were going for an actual purpose that wasn’t vacation, they couldn’t help but feel giddy at the idea of getting out of Nevada. 

Jake and Bradley had hardly spoken since a few days before, but of course they were tasked with actually flying the jets out to Pensacola. The rest of the team flying commercially had taken all their overnight bags, so the crew taking the Hornets out only had to worry about the gear they were wearing. Thankfully, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy were also flying jets out so they could keep the two from shooting the other out of the air. Jake already had two confirmed air-to-air kills, he didn’t need another one, especially when the guy was on his side. Militarily speaking. 

Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob launched from NAS Fallon first, getting well on their cross country flight to Florida before Hangman, Payback, and Fanboy joined them about 15 miles behind. They didn’t normally talk on comms when flying together, needing to stay in the proper headspace to be able to make their decisions as quickly as possible, but on a low-threat cross country they could chit chat a little bit while between Air Traffic Controllers. 

“Bob, what’s the first cocktail you’re ordering when we finally touch down?” Rooster asked, having already been asked the same question by Phoenix. “I assume something fruity?”

Bob hummed through the radio, deliberately breathing heavily to make everyone listening cringe. “I’m thinking maybe a margarita. Strawberry, but with extra lime and a sugar rim. Add an umbrella so I can get the full effect.”

Everyone laughed over the radio, but secretly they all thought it sounded delicious. At their local bar, they knew enough to not order anything with more than three ingredients, so they were all excited at the prospect of drinks they could enjoy slowly and not just to get drunk. Although, there would be plenty of that going on as well. 

Hangman’s voice came crackling through their radios. “Bob, I’m going to need you to order me one of those, too, because that sounds incredibly refreshing after a day of flying with you yahoos.”

A collective groan sounded over the radio, but it was soon mixed with laughter. It would be a long flight if they couldn’t laugh at each other. They were hanging out somewhere over the midwest, turning on their targeting pods and staring down at the checkerboards of farm fields sprawling below them. It was a peaceful flight for once, no one trying to shoot them down, real or simulated. 

Since they were heading east and dealing with time zones, they would be landing in Miami around 1800, just enough time to shed their gear and get changed for the bars. They didn’t have to report until 0900 the next morning, so they were all excited about getting to hit the town. Maybe do a little dancing, get a little drunk, take someone back to their hotel room if they chose to. 

The rest of the flight went off without a hitch and it was about four hours later before they had finally landed, debriefed, and stowed their gear for the night. The other part of the team wouldn’t land for another couple hours, leaving the six who took the F/A-18s would have a bit of time to get a head start on them. 

The group had to take two Ubers to get to the hotel the Navy had put them up in, with their small bags they were able to take on the jets and the fact that it was a Friday night, they could only manage to get small cars to pick them up. Hangman, Rooster, and Phoenix were stuck in one car together, Phoenix claiming the front seat and leaving the two men – who still hadn’t spoken much – to be smushed together in the backseat. 

Tasha’s bag had claimed the middle seat, leaving Bradley and Jake to squish theirs either on their laps or between their legs. Bradley tried not to think about the way Jake’s knee was warm against his own or the way his legs were splayed outward to fit his bag between them. It’s not like he had a choice of where his legs were going, it was a fucking Ford Focus and even though Bradley had a couple inches on Jake, Jake still didn’t fit into the backseat all that well. Both men looked out their respective windows as Phoenix made small talk with the driver, deftly avoiding questions about their jobs and diverting the conversation to how long he had been driving Uber and whatnot. Bradley noticed how Jake’s jaw tightened when they hit a small bump that pushed Bradley’s knee harder into Jake’s, but was still definitely not thinking about it. 

They pulled up to the hotel after what felt like an eternity to Bradley. The three jumped out, thanked their driver, and made their way inside. The three had arrived just after Bob, Payback, and Fanboy, so they checked in quickly before Phoenix shot off a text to their group message asking for room numbers. Payback and Fanboy replied with the same room number, much to the surprise of the others. On a trip like this they almost always got a room to themselves, so this caused the rest of them to wonder who their roommates would be. Not that it mattered to most of them, they were all good friends so having to share a hotel room and bathroom for a couple nights wasn’t going to change anything. 

Since neither had a WSO, it wasn’t a surprise that Jake and Bradley were stuck together for this trip. It had happened once before on a short deployment to Sigonella, Italy, and they got through it only because they were on split shifts and rarely had to see each other. If they were forced to see each other, everyone was sure they would have taken each other’s heads off. How they were going to make it through these next couple of days was anyone’s guess. 

Jake and Bradley followed Phoenix down the hallway to the block of rooms the Navy reserved for them. She waved goodbye with a reminder to meet in the lobby in 30 minutes, changed and ready to get hammered.

“Who would have thought Tash would be the one to facilitate the debauchery?” Jake joked, trying to lighten the mood a little bit as they trudged down a few more doors to their own room. 

“Literally anyone who has spent more than 2 days with her,” Bradley shot back, double checking the key he was given with the number on the door and sliding the key through the door lock. 

Jake hummed a noise indicating he agreed with Bradley and the two walked into the room. Jake was looking down at his shoe, noticing it was untied, as he crossed the threshold and was met with a wall. Well, a warm wall made up of muscle and a soft t-shirt. 

“What. The. Fuck,” Bradley whispered, dropping his bag on the ground at his feet. 

Once Jake had recovered from bouncing off Bradley’s back, he looked up and saw what made Bradley stop dead in his tracks. Jake’s bag dropped onto the ground next to Bradley’s, and Bradley looked over to see Jake’s mouth opened slightly as he took in the sight.

Someone had fucked up and put them in a room with only a king bed instead of two queens. Or at least a pull-out couch. Just one bed. 

“Um,” Bradley started, but if he was being honest, he had no ending to that sentence and just let it trail off. 

“I’ll go down and tell them to fix it, put us in another ro-” Jake said, but before he could finish he was cut off by a loud knock at the door. 

Bradley picked up his bag and tossed it on the bed before going to answer the door. He opened it to a stunningly dressed Phoenix in a black top and jeans as she tapped her foot against the floor impatiently. 

“Let’s get a move on, boys,” she said. “I just got a text from Halo that said they just landed, so if we want to get a head start on them we have to leave now.”

Bradley checked his watch incredulously. “You said 30 minutes, it’s barely been 10?”

“Yeah they landed early, so chop chop,” she said, turning on her heel to get back to her room so they could change.

By the time Bradley had shut the door and turned back around, Jake had changed clothes and snuck into the bathroom, leaving Bradley alone in the room with the singular bed and his own thoughts. 

Before Jake could finish up in the bathroom, Bradley slipped out of his t-shirt and into a tank top and button up, followed by a pair of gray shorts. He put his hands over his face, grabbed a key and left the room after banging on the bathroom door to tell Jake he needed to hurry. 

Bradley shuffled down to Phoenix’s room so they could walk down to the lobby together to wait for Jake. Payback, Fanboy, and Bob were already down there, sipping on drinks from the hotel bar so they could pregame the head start. Bradley could feel a headache coming on that he knew would make him cranky if he drank anything other than water that night. 

The five of them were talking amongst themselves when Jake finally came out of the elevator, causing Bradley to suck in a breath. Jake was wearing a tight black t-shirt that showed off his shoulders and chest paired with an equally tight pair of jeans that showed off his thighs. Bradley glanced around hoping no one noticed the catch in his breath. Thankfully, it looked like no one did. 

Tasha was fanning herself dramatically while Jake was met with a round of cheers from the boys as he approached. He bowed to the cheers and smiled and laughed. Bradley caught Jake’s eye for a split second and felt his stomach drop. He was met with the same look he had been getting for the past five months: a questioning look that was bordering on uninterested. He tried not to let it show on his face, but Bradley was getting discouraged with trying to make Jake his friend – or more – for once and for all. He was getting nothing in return but sarcastic comments and blank stares. 

And when Jake had started to say he was going to get the front desk to switch their room so they wouldn’t have to share a bed, Bradley had almost decided to give up altogether. He hadn’t meant his “what the fuck” to be heard anywhere but his own head, but it slipped out somehow and may have royally screwed up his chance. 

After everyone had finished at least one drink, they set out for a bar within walking distance of their hotel. It was easy to find one not too far away and soon everyone was a few shots deep, even Bradley. He was staying away from actual drinks for the night, and luckily no one seemed to notice as long as he partook in the shots that seemed to flow endlessly to their table. At some point the rest of the Dagger crew showed up and filled in as though they were never missing from the party. That was the beauty of their team, the seamlessness. 

Bradley kept shooting glances over at Jake the whole night, occasionally locking eyes and then quickly looking away before Jake could see the blush traveling up his cheeks. The blush that was only from the alcohol and nothing else. 

At one point, Bradley was distracted from his conversation about the best Thai dishes with Fritz when he heard Jake talking to Phoenix about their predicament back at the hotel. He was explaining how there was only one bed in the room, and he thought that Bradley had gone to the front desk to change it. 

“I was with him the whole time, he never went to talk to them,” Bradley heard Phoenix say. 

“Oh,” Jake said. Bradley couldn’t decipher the tone over the noise of the bar, more only able to read his lips. He was forced to pay attention to his conversation with Fritz once again when he was nudged in the elbow, having presumably asked a question.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked Fritz, and he repeated the question. “Oh yeah, dude, red curry is my favorite, totally.” He paused when he saw Jake heading for the bar. “Um, sorry, I’ll be right back.”

Bradley saw Jake leaning over the bar, jeans hugging his ass nicely, and took a deep breath before going to stand next to him. 

“So, do you come here often?” Bradley shouted over the din.

Jake whipped his head around to see who had sidled up next to him and Bradley was met with a soft smile. “No sir, I’m from out of town.”

“Well lucky me then,” Bradley said, turning his head to face the bartender running around behind the bar. He could see that Jake had a flush on his cheeks, very likely from the alcohol. The bartender handed Jake two bottles and a small tray with a round of shots. Jake pulled one off and handed it to Bradley before taking one into his own hand. The two threw the shots back, only exchanging a glance before Jake headed back to his seat and leaving Bradley at the bar. 

Picking up two drinks for Phoenix and Fritz, Bradley walked back to their group of tables and settled in a seat next to Tasha. 

“Weird to see you two not trying to shove each other’s heads into a concrete wall,” she remarked, a knowing smile forming on her lips. 

“It’s the alcohol,” Bradley scoffed. 

“Come on, Bradshaw, I’ve literally been watching you making eyes at him across these tables all damn night.” She paused to let Bradley look at her incredulously. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, just fuck already.”

“Excuse me?” Bradley feigned shock. The shots were hitting him a little harder than he had anticipated. “That is not going to happen.” And then after a beat. “Not tonight anyway,” he mumbled. 

Phoenix laughed and said she was going to the bathroom, leaving Bradley alone at his little round table. He played with the straw in his third shirley temple – he had to save face somehow and make everyone think he was drinking along with them.

A couple hours later, the Dagger crew was headed back to the hotel after finally deciding that they should probably sleep at least a little since they had a run through of their impossible mission tomorrow. Halo and Phoenix split off to their room, Omaha and Fritz to theirs, Payback and Fanboy, and so on until only Jake and Bradley were left in the hallway. Neither of them said anything as they closed the short distance to the room that never got switched. 

Bradley hesitated when putting the key in the door, attempting to think through his actions and then ultimately deciding that he was better off just shutting off his brain and going with his gut. The two walked into the room together and stopped next to each other as they stared at the bed, all of their bags thrown haphazardly across the room.

“I’m going to, um, yeah,” Jake stuttered as he walked further into the room to presumably grab his bathroom bag. He picked up the bag once he had located it and proceeded to lock himself in the bathroom.

Bradley sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh and pressed the heels of his hands into his temple in an effort to ebb the pain from his persistent headache. What the fuck? He thought. Literally what the fuck. There was one bed, it’s not like either of them had never shared a bed with another man. All they had to do was sleep. Except Bradley was now remembering that he decided to shut his brain off, so he was dealing with the part of him that was really apt to notice how attractive Jake was. Sleeping was easy, fighting his own brain was proving to be harder. 

Jake came out of the bathroom a few minutes later wearing a worn out Sugarland t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Bradley couldn’t help the grin that slowly spread across his face. 

“What, Rooster?” Jake said accusingly. “Just because we’re roomies for the weekend does not mean I’m giving up my comfortable lifestyle.”

Bradley got ready for bed, and a few short minutes later, he was faced with the obstacle of having to sleep in the same bed as Jake Seresin. The man sober Bradley pretended to not be able to stand and tipsy Bradley was wildly attracted to, apparently. He took a deep breath that he hoped went unnoticed by Jake laying in the bed already. 

“Ready for bed, little Roo?” Jake teased. 

“Shut up, Hangy,” Bradley bit back – albeit with no malice behind it – using a name he knew Jake hated. 

Jake sneered back and rolled over onto his side to face the wall. Bradley crawled into bed, trying his best to stay as far on his side as possible without falling off, and ultimately failing right away. He managed to catch himself with one leg on the ground and a fist full of sheets before he fell all the way down. Jake flipped his whole body around at the commotion. 

“Damn, Bradshaw, I didn’t think you were actually drunk,” he laughed. Bradley shot him a glare and got back into bed without falling this time. 

Bradley laid on his back staring at the green light of the smoke detector on the ceiling, trying to make the silence between him and Jake’s back a comfortable one. He knew there was no reason to say anything, Jake was scrolling on his phone, content to lay there, half a bed apart from Bradley, until they both fell asleep and morning eventually came. Bradley, however, was less content. 

“So,” he started. “Sugarland, huh? Never would have pegged you for a Jennifer Nettles fan.”

Jake locked his phone and rolled over to face Bradley. “Says the one who knows Jennifer Nettles.” He huffed a breath, a small smile on his face. “My mom was a big fan. She took me to my first concert when I was 9, and every concert since then was with her. When Sugarland came on the scene, every time they came to Texas we went and I always got a shirt. She loved them a lot.”

“Past tense?” Bradley asked.

“Um, yeah,” Jake sighed. “She died about ten years ago now. Cancer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bradley said, unsure of how to comfort him, or if Jake even wanted it. Bradley was no stranger to dead parents. “My mom passed away when I was in high school.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jake echoed. “And I’m sorry for bringing up your dad in class all those months ago. I don’t know if I ever apologized for it, but I really am sorry.”

Bradley didn’t really know how to respond to the apology, so he stayed silent and stared at the ceiling. 

“So I know how your dad died, but I don’t know anything else about him.” Bradley picked up the questioning tone in Jake’s voice. “If you don’t mind me prying a little,” he tacked on at the end.

“No, not at all,” Bradley began. “Yeah, so he was Maverick’s RIO and, in all honesty, I was only four when it all happened, so I don’t remember much about him. I do remember that he was always singing, though. He started me on the piano when I was really young, and my mom kept me going after he passed. I remember that he loved my mom a lot, and he loved flying almost as much. Because of that, Maverick was around my whole life, too.”

By this point Bradley had rolled onto his side to face Jake. Jake’s face seemed to be telling Bradley to keep going, so he did. 

“Yes, I’ve known Maverick my whole life. He was kind of a second father to me. We had our falling out, but you know about that by now.”

“So, did Mav and your mom ever, you know, get it on after your dad died?” Jake wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Ew, Seresin, no!” Bradley whisper-shouted, reaching out to shove at Jake’s shoulder. “Mav was never… interested. So to speak. There was someone else.” Bradley shut his mouth quickly, before he said more, knowing he already said too much. This part wasn’t his story to tell. 

“Someone else?” Jake asked. “Is it someone we know?”

Bradley sensed Jake had an idea about who it was, they were all there at the funeral, they saw how Mav was acting the few days after. 

“It was Admiral Kazansky, wasn’t it?” Jake said, answering his own question. 

Bradley nodded his head as best he could while laying sideways in a bed. To get a little more comfortable, he propped his head up on his hand, elbow resting on the pillow. Jake adjusted so he was facing up toward Bradley. 

“They first got together back in ‘86 when they graduated from TOPGUN. Deployments split them up here and there over the years, but they always found each other on the other side.” Bradley paused when Jake shifted his legs so their knees were touching. “They both made it a lot easier when I was figuring out some stuff about myself in high school.”

Jake had a confused look on his face that prompted Bradley to continue. 

“I’m gay, Hangman. I like men,” Bradley deadpanned, internally hoping Jake wouldn’t hop out of the bed and run down the hall like his ass just got lit on fire. 

“Oh,” was all Jake said. Then after a beat, “Me too. I like men, too, I mean. I’m bisexual, if you want to put a label on it.”

Again, Bradley remained silent, but this time he didn’t return his gaze to the ceiling and instead kept his eyes locked onto Jake’s. Neither of them said a word, the only sound in the room was the humming of the air conditioner unit and their even breathing. Jake’s gaze flitted away for a second – Bradley thought it was to glance at his lips, but he wasn’t that full of himself – and slowly brought his knee up farther to fit between Bradley’s. 

Bradley’s arm was still slightly outstretched from when he had shoved Jake earlier and he raised it to brush a stray piece of hair from Jake’s forehead back into the rest of his normally perfectly coiffed hairdo. Jake leaned into the touch and shifted even closer to Bradley. 

With the way his arm was propping up his head, Bradley could feel Jake’s soft breath against his bicep. 

Fuck it, Bradley thought, and leaned forward to gently press his lips to Jake’s.

Jake tasted like mint toothpaste with a hint of whatever liquor he was drinking earlier in the evening. He seemed to melt into the kiss underneath Bradley, his hand coming up to fist into Bradley’s shirt. Bradley, in contrast, moved his hand down to rest on Jake’s waist and tighten his grip just slightly. It was a soft kiss, nothing seemed to be expected on either end, but Bradley set the pace, as Jake seemed to be content with letting him lead. Bradley rolled Jake farther onto his back and moved to hover over him slightly. 

They broke apart after a while, a string of spit connecting them still. Neither man said anything but both kept their breathing relatively steady, though Bradley felt like he was gasping like a swimmer coming up for air. Jake’s eyes searched Bradley’s face, seeming unsure of what he was looking for, but before he could open his mouth to get a word in, Bradley surged forward again. 

The kiss was more insistent this time. Jake’s hands were roaming around Bradley’s upper body, occasionally, he slipped a finger underneath the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt or snapped the waistband of his boxers. Bradley held himself up with a hand on either side of Jake’s head, not straddling his waist yet but working his way up to it. 

Jake pulled back a second time. “Wait, Bradshaw, hang on,” he breathed. 

They stared at each other for a second before Jake seemed to gather his words enough to finish his thought. 

“Not tonight,” he said. 

Bradley was confused. “What are you talking about?” he asked. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Jake said simply. “But not tonight.” He paused and smiled when Bradley sucked in a breath.

Dramatic bitch, Bradley thought. 

“I want you to fuck me, but I want you to take your time,” Jake continued. “I want to take you apart first, sucking you off and making it the best damn head you’ve ever gotten. And then I want to let you do whatever. You. Want.” He punctuated each word by leaning up to press a kiss to Bradley’s collarbone. “Take your time thinking about it, but I don’t put out on the first date,” he said with a wink. 

Bradley didn’t have a damn thing to say to that, his mind was racing at the prospect of having Jake Seresin at his mercy. He wanted to see his face while he opened him up and hear what he sounded like when he finished him off.

Jake pulled Bradley down by his t-shirt one last time so he could kiss him before rolling back onto his side, back facing Bradley. Bradley scooched forward to press his chest to Jake’s back and wrapped an arm over the top of Jake’s torso, leaving the tip of his pinky finger to rest just under the waistband of Jake’s boxers. He pressed small kisses into Jake’s neck and shoulders until Jake’s breathing steadied and Bradley could tell he was asleep. 

If he’s being honest, Bradley didn’t sleep that much that night. 

***

“Good morning Rooster,” Phoenix said when Bradley opened the door to her incessant knocking. “Did you sleep well?”

Bradley grumbled something about not talking to him before he had coffee – and Tasha knew he wasn’t a morning person – and reached behind him to grab his go-bag with his gear and flight suit in it. Jake walked out of the bathroom at that same moment and Phoenix looked past Bradley to wave at Jake and then waggle her eyebrows at Bradley.

“Not a word from you, Tash,” Bradley said as he pointed a finger at her chest. “Nothing.”

She shrugged and turned to head back down the hall. Bradley followed closely behind her and stepped out of the stairwell. The others were waiting in the lobby so they could all stop and get coffee before heading to the base for the demo flight. Bradley heard footsteps coming up behind him quickly, but before he could turn around there was a hand grabbing his ass.

“What the—” Bradley started. Before he could finish his sentence, Jake walked past without looking at him, but Bradley could see a huge smirk on his lips. 

Bradley stared after him, but eventually followed him out the door once he realized the others were watching him. He was still in a daze after last night and was bound to spend the entirety of his day thinking about how he was going to take Jake apart once they were done playing Navy pilots for the day. 

It wasn’t near the first time Bradley had flown since the mission five months ago, but today was the first time he would be forced to actually re-live the mission that almost killed him. He wasn’t exactly excited but he would push through and be fine. Besides, he had a mission that didn’t involve flying once he was done. Just having Jake there, the person who was the reason he was alive, made it a lot easier for Bradley. 

The ride to the base was quiet after the coffee, none of them spoke, just trying to get into the headspace for flying. It was easy to fall back into the rhythm of mission planning – especially when they had already planned and flown said mission – and being around each other was comfortable, familiar. They weren’t going to do much of any actual mission planning that day anyway; they were only going through the motions for the intelligence personnel and pilot trainees that were stationed there. Most of them didn’t get a chance to work with a full team of instructor pilots, so it was an opportunity for the Dagger crew to teach.

Bradley took his time getting his gear ready once they were finished with the teaching portion. Now came the hardest part: actually getting in the air and flying the damn thing. He was taking deep breaths in the aircrew flight equipment area as he slowly zipped up his G suit. The others had already finished getting dressed and were on their way out to the jets, but Bradley couldn’t get himself to snap those last few buttons. Through the blood racing in his ears, he didn’t hear the door open and someone walk in. 

“Rooster?” a voice said behind Bradley. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Jake grabbed Bradley by the shoulder and turned him around. Neither of them said anything, but Jake had started to take deep breaths while maintaining eye contact with Bradley and soon Bradley followed suit and began to calm down. 

“It’s just training. We won’t even be flying over water. There are no real enemy aircraft,” Jake said, raising a hand to card it through Bradley’s hair. “I’ll be in the air with you every step of the way. I’m flying Maverick’s part of the mission, you know that.”

Bradley just closed his eyes and relished the feeling of Jake’s fingers in his hair as they made their way to the back of his head and lightly scratched through the short hairs there. He made a soft sound and leaned into the touch. 

“Better?” Jake asked and Bradley nodded. “Okay. Let’s go show these new little officers how it’s done, yeah?”

The two of them walked from the building and out to the flight line together. The jets were all lined up, the morning sun glinting off of cockpits and causing Bradley to squint. Jake passed by Bradley, giving him a smile and his hand a squeeze before going to his own jet. Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy were already in their jets, doing all their pre-flight checks and just about ready to go. Feeling better about the whole thing, Bradley climbed into his own and they were all in the air in no time.

Bradley had to continue his deep breathing as they got the mission underway. The people on the ground would be watching the flying feed through the Air Combat Maneuvering Instrumentation pods they were each carrying on their wing and listening to all the comms between each member of the flight. Bradley knew he had to keep his bearing, and hearing Jake’s voice through the radio was helping him. Not just the prospect of what he had ahead of him that night, but the fact that Jake was the one who had saved him, saved Mav, was his whole reason he was even getting to keep flying. 

They finished the mission without any issues and the debrief went smoothly, Bradley able to keep any emotion out of it and wear his pilot teacher hat to show what they should have done differently and what worked well. It was easy to go through the motions with Jake by his side but he was also making it extremely difficult. Jake was a constant, warm presence; his hip was always touching Bradley’s while they were bent over a table together or his foot was tapping the side of Bradley’s while they sat through lunch with the young pilots in training as they asked Jake and Bradley questions about being at TOPGUN. It was easy to give the usual canned answers about how it was a good experience but pretty grueling training, but Bradley’s mind was on the hand that kept squeezing his thigh. He was doing his best to keep from sporting a half chub, but it wasn’t going all that well and all he wanted to do was get the hell out of his flight suit. 

The whole day, Jake and Bradley had been amicable, not going for each other’s necks and not screaming at each other. Bradley could tell the rest of the team thought it was odd, but he watched as Phoenix kept whispering in everyone’s ears followed by understanding flash across their faces. He knew she wasn’t going to keep quiet, but he at least thought it would maybe take a drink or two for her to spill the beans. Not that there were any beans to spill. Nothing had happened between him and Jake, but Phoenix did know that Bradley felt some type of way about Jake and that there was only one bed in their room.

Once they were finally done for the day, the Dagger crew shed their flight suits in exchange for their going-out-clothes. The group that had flown the F/A-18s out from Nevada – Phoenix, Bob, Payback, Fanboy, Hangman, and Rooster – were flying commercial back, and the others – Halo, Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Coyote, and Omaha – would take the fighters. The commercial flight wasn’t until 1300 so they were prepared to get sufficiently drunk that night, but the others decided to go back to the hotel to sleep.

Once they arrived at the bar, Payback and Fanboy made a beeline for a pool table before getting a drink so they could secure a spot for the night. Phoenix and Bob followed suit after they snagged a drink, Phoenix throwing a quick glance over her shoulder to where Bradley was still standing at the bar with Jake.

“What’re you having?” the bartender shouted over the noise of the bar.

“I’ll have a whiskey coke and he’ll have a Shiner,” Bradley told him, earning himself a squeeze on the elbow from Jake. 

“Ooh, Bradshaw, I get all tingly when you take control like that,” Jake said into his ear. “Do a little more of that tonight.”

Bradley gave him a look after he was handed the drinks that was immediately met with a gaze from Jake that said he wasn’t kidding. Bradley lowered his gaze to look pointedly at Jake’s lips which prompted Jake to dart his tongue out to wet his lips. Jake reached out his hand and took the beer from Bradley, letting his fingers linger on Bradley’s.

Someone behind them was trying to elbow their way between them on their way to the bar, so the two headed to the pool table where the other four had planted themselves. 

“Seresin, that was some A plus flying today, man,” Fanboy said when they arrived. “I know why Maverick flew the mission himself, but you would have been just as good a fit.”

Jake waved him off and sipped his beer. “Pssh,” he scoffed. “Anyone could have done it.”

They were all careful not to talk about work too much outside of being there and that’s what Jake was trying to pass it off as, but they all also knew that there was no way any other pilot in the Navy could have flown that mission. Bradley just watched the interaction with muted interest, his mind was elsewhere.

Elsewhere being undressing Jake in his mind. 

Tasha nudged Bradley’s elbow to get him out of his trance. “Dude, you are so gone on him,” she said.

“What? No I’m not,” he whisper-shouted back at her. “If only you knew…” he trailed off. 

“I’m not going to ask you to finish that sentence because I do not want to know.” Tasha got up off her chair to take a pool cue from Payback and thrust it into Jake’s hands. She took the second one from Fanboy and re-racked the balls to start a game with Jake. 

Tasha was not going easy on Jake, the whole team knew she was the best pool player out of all of them, but he was playing it off well and kept his signature megawatt smile on his face. He bent over the table to attempt to knock the thirteen ball into a corner pocket and finally made it. Bradley didn’t even try to hide his eyes staring at Jake’s ass, the pants Jake was wearing hugged it nicely. 

As Jake straightened up after missing the nine ball shot, Bradley came up behind him and bent him back over. 

“Here,” he started, grabbing Jake’s wrists and guiding the pool cue to point at the cue ball on the table. “If you hold it here, like this, you’ll have more control over it. Makes it easier to put some English on the ball.”

Fanboy coughed behind them and Phoenix snickered – she knew this would happen. Jake just nodded and followed along as he pushed his ass back a little bit into Bradley’s hips. He stood back up from the table and Bradley stayed flush against him. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Bradley whispered in his ear. He was sick of waiting, he flew his mission, he played naval aviator, he wanted his reward. Jake nodded quickly. “I’m going back to the hotel, I think, I’m getting a little sleepy,” he said louder for the rest of the group to hear. “Does anyone want to join me?”

“I think I’ll head back, too,” Jake said after he peeled himself from Bradley’s front side. “Tough day of flying, I need to sleep.”

Bob just shook his head. “Oh my god, you two are the worst,” he said. “Would you just get the fuck out of here already?” He sounded hostile, but he had a big smile on his face. Bradley could tell Bob knew what was coming; by the look on his face, he had helped Tasha orchestrate the whole plan. 

Bradley was on a mission to get back to the hotel as quickly as possible. Jake was a few feet behind him, but keeping the pace well. 

As soon as they arrived, Bradley grabbed onto Jake’s hand and pulled him into the elevator. When the door shut, he pounced. Bradley shoved Jake up against the wall, one hand threaded through Jake’s hair with the other on Jake’s hip in a bruising grip. His mouth hadn’t made its way to Jake’s yet but was latched onto the side of his neck and sure to leave a mark. Jake kept his eye on the elevator door, just to make sure they weren’t going to scar some kid when they finally opened, but worked his arms around Bradley’s middle and down to rest on the swell of his ass. As Bradley sucked particularly hard on the muscle where Jake’s shoulder meets his neck, Jake let out a whine and tightened his hands around him. 

“Rooster, hey wait a second,” he started. 

“You are not stopping me this time,” Bradley lifted off Jake’s neck to whine. 

“I’m not stopping you, dumbass, we’re just almost at our floor.”

Bradley came out of the little horny trance he was in to compose himself enough to walk from the elevator to their room. He stayed close behind Jake the whole short walk, and as soon as the door latched behind them, he was back on Jake as if nothing had happened. 

He kept Jake pressed up against the door, but this time he finally went in for a kiss. Bradley worked his way into Jake’s mouth quickly, his tongue licking its way in and winning over the space. Jake melted into the kiss like he had the night before and let himself be manhandled for a minute before seeming to remember the promise he had made. 

“Listen, Bradshaw,” he panted when he pulled away. He was trying to focus but it was hard with Bradley pressing kisses down the side of his neck. “Don’t you remember what I said last night? You can fuck me, but I get you give you the best blowjob of your life, first.”

At that, Bradley stopped what he was doing and gave Jake a hungry look. It was just enough of a pause for Jake to take control and spin them around so Bradley was the one against the door and at the mercy of the man in front of him. 

Jake ran his hands up and down Bradley’s upper body and slipped one hand underneath his shirt. Bradley gasped when Jake’s hand found a nipple and began to squeeze and roll the sensitive area. He let his head fall back against the door with a quiet thud as Jake started to unbutton his shirt and slip it off Bradley’s shoulders. They let it fall to the floor quietly. 

Jake leaned in and replaced his hand with his mouth to suck a mark onto the skin around Bradley’s nipple, causing Bradley to let out a quiet groan. 

“Come on, Roo. Let me hear you,” Jake said between kisses to his chest. Bradley sucked in a breath at the nickname normally used to mock him being used in this context. “Now you’re getting there. If this is going to be the best blow job of your life, I need to hear you to know it.”

Bradley let out a low sound from his throat as he pulled Jake up gently by his hair so he could kiss him one more time. Jake let himself be pulled and pressed himself flush against Bradley’s body. Bradley could feel how hard he was through both pairs of jeans, which were annoyingly still a factor in this situation. 

Jake pulled away again, but this time he quickly sunk down to his knees and went to work on Bradley’s belt and button, all while pressing feather-light kisses to Bradley’s hip bones. In no time, Jake had Bradley’s shorts undone and worked them off his legs to toss them to the side. All that was left were the boxers. 

Bradley couldn’t believe what was honestly happening. It’s not like it was a surprise, Jake told him exactly what was going to happen, but the fact that Bradley had even gone so far as to have the situation even be brought up was still beyond him. From the time he had met Jake the second time a few months ago after all those years, all he wanted was him in his bed and an unlimited amount of time to have his way with him. 

His attention was brought back to the events unfolding in front of him when Jake snapped the waistband of his boxers. With a grin, Jake pulled down the boxers to let Bradley’s cock slap against his lower belly. 

“God I knew you’d be perfect,” Jake said, awe prevalent in his voice. He didn’t take his eyes off Bradley for a second before he brought his hands up to grab at Bradley’s hips. 

“Fuck, Hangman,” Bradley punched out through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Jake breathed on his lower abdomen, back to pressing kisses there. 

“Need your mouth. Now,” Bradley said. 

At that, Jake licked a stripe up the underside of Bradley’s cock, eliciting a loud groan from Bradley. Jake ran his lips down the side before giving the base a small kiss and then running his lips up the other side. He paused at the tip, looking up at Bradley with his eyes wide and pupils blown so wide they were overtaking the irises. Jake smiled at Bradley looking down at him and kept eye contact as he took all of Bradley into his mouth.

Bradley’s hands immediately came up to knot his fingers into Jake’s hair and pull. Jake groaned around Bradley’s cock, making Bradley use everything in himself to keep from thrusting his hips forward. Luckily, he didn’t have to try that hard as it seemed Jake noticed his restraint and used his grip on Bradley’s hips to gently pull them forward. Bradley got the memo and shallowly thrusted into Jake’s mouth. Jake was able to take Bradley well, letting him hit the back of his throat without gagging much.

Jake was so beautiful like this, mouth open wide and taking Bradley’s cock in and out with no struggle. The hint of tears shined at the edges of his eyes but he kept them open and locked onto Bradley’s.

“God, Seresin, you look so good like this,” Bradley breathed, taking one hand out of his hair and resting it on the side of Jake’s face. “Taking me so well. You run your mouth so much it’s no wonder you’re so good with it.”

Jake let the idea of a smile and a hint of mischief show in his eyes and pushed back against Bradley’s hips to take back control of the situation. Bradley let his head fall back against the door and let Jake pick up the pace. He brought one hand to hold onto the base of Bradley’s dick while still letting his mouth do the majority of the work. He sucked hard on his way up, letting the tip rest against his tongue when he got to the top. 

“Ah, fuck, Hangman,” Bradley started as he tugged on Jake’s hair to pull him off. “Don’t wanna come yet.”

“Aye aye, lieutenant,” Jake said with a wink and a kiss to the tip of Bradley’s cock. He stood up and shed his own shirt as he did so, being the only one of the two with any clothes still on. His voice was raspy and his lips were slick with spit and precome as he leaned in to kiss Bradley. He pressed his whole body against Bradley’s while Bradley let his hands fall to Jake’s hips to slip underneath the hem of his jeans. He made quick work of the button at the top and even quicker work of pushing the jeans down Jake’s thighs to make them pool around his ankles with the boxers following suit. 

“Now as much as I want to get this show on the road,” Jake said, pulling away from the kiss momentarily. “I would also like to not get fucked next to the door where anyone can hear. However, if that’s something you’d like to explore, I’d be willing to try it next time.”

How Jake could still be so mouthy while he was this close to having a dick up his ass was beyond Bradley, but he nodded anyway and dropped his hands to cup under Jake’s ass to lift him up by the thighs. Jake let out a surprised yelp but let himself be lifted and wrapped his legs around Bradley’s hips. Jake leaned in to let Bradley capture his lips in another bruising kiss. They broke apart once they reached the one bed in their hotel room – the whole reason any of this was even happening – and Bradley let Jake fall to the bed. He followed quickly after him and grabbed Jake by the wrists, pinning them above his head. 

Jake let himself be pliant underneath Bradley, melting into the kiss just like he had for all the others before. Bradley ravaged his mouth, biting down on Jake’s bottom lip lightly and sucking on Jake’s tongue whenever he had the chance. Jake rolled his hips up to meet Bradley’s, whining when he didn’t get the friction he so obviously wanted.

“You told me to take my time thinking about what I wanted to do to you,” Bradley said. He was now making his way down Jake’s chest, leaving marks in his wake and letting his fingers trail down his sides. Jake’s hands stayed firmly pinned above his head even though Bradley was no longer holding them there. “And I took my time. I took all damn day while we were flying thinking about how I would take you apart piece by piece.” He punctuated each word by biting lightly on Jake’s nipple. “How beautiful your face will be when I stretch you open first with my fingers and then with my cock.”

At those words, Jake gasped and moved his hands down to Bradley’s head this time, trying to guide his mouth to where he really wanted it. Jake’s dick had been widely ignored this whole time – Jake intent on pleasing Bradley – but it wasn’t unnoticed by Bradley. He was doing everything he could to not go straight for it. He wanted to take things slowly. 

“Ah ah ah,” Bradley taunted. “You keep those hands above your head. Can you do that for me, princess?”

Jake nodded and slowly moved his hands back above his head to grip the pillow that was behind him. He needed something to hold onto, and the pillow would have to do if it wasn’t going to be Bradley’s hair. Bradley continued his way down Jake’s body and left even more marks. Bradley felt something like a sense of pride knowing that they were going to fly home tomorrow and no one was going to know what was under Jake’s clothes or who put those bruises there. 

Bradley got off of Jake for a split second to reach for the lube in his bag on the ground. Jake whined at his departure, but smiled once he saw what Bradley was doing. 

“Came on this trip with some expectations, eh Bradshaw?” he asked, his smile growing into what could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

“Always have to be prepared, Seresin.” Bradley squeezed a large dollop onto his fingers and began to warm it up in his hands. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

“As I’ll ever be, Roo,” Jake said and Bradley could see he gripped tighter onto the pillow in his hands in anticipation, contrary to the smooth tone of his voice. 

Bradley breathed a small laugh and moved a hand down to tease the tight ring of muscle at Jake’s hole. He was expecting it, but he still relished the sound that came from Jake when he started to put pressure there. Jake immediately shifted his hips closer to Bradley, as if trying to make things go faster, but Bradley had something else in mind. 

“Gonna take this so slow, baby,” he said, leaning down to press small kisses to Jake’s hipbones and deliberately still avoiding his cock. For now. “Gonna get you nice and ready to take me, and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be glad you’re flying commercial tomorrow.” Bradley slid a single finger in until it reached the second knuckle. Jake’s mouth dropped open, but no sound came out. 

Time to change that, Bradley thought. He pulled his finger out slowly, but as he did, he leaned down to give Jake’s cock some attention. Bradley pressed light kisses up and down the length of it as he pushed his finger back inside Jake. Jake still didn’t let out a sound, but sucked in a sharp breath. Finally, Bradley grabbed the base of Jake’s cock and took it into his mouth. 

“Fuck!” Jake cried out. “Jesus, Roo, warn a guy next time.” He was panting through gritted teeth and still doing his best to keep still.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Bradley said. “Keeping still, but you’re not quite loud enough.” To punctuate that statement, Bradley gave his finger a twist inside Jake. Just as he expected, Jake let out a loud groan. 

“Roo, please,” Jake whined.

“Please what?” Bradley asked, pulling off Jake’s cock with a pop.

“Need you in me now.”

“Fuck, Hangman, you’re hardly stretched,” Bradley said, but he added more lube to his fingers and added a second. 

Jake cried out again and this time his hands lifted slightly from the pillow he was gripping. He put them back down quickly but thrust his hips up into Bradley’s mouth. Bradley gagged slightly, but he could take it, and he doubled down on the pleasure for Jake and swallowed around his cock while it was all the way in his mouth. At that, Jake moaned again while Bradley scissored the two fingers he had inside of Jake. 

“Now, Bradley,” Jake pleaded. “Ah– fuck! I can take it.” Bradley reveled in the sound of his name – his real name – on Jake’s lips

Jake seemed to know what he could handle, so Bradley removed his fingers and sat up. Jake whined at the loss of a warm body against him, but he was immediately satisfied again when he saw Bradley rolling a condom on.

“Hurry it up,” Jake complained. 

“So mouthy,” Bradley said as he lined himself up with Jake’s entrance. He teased Jake with the tip there and leaned down to kiss him and to shut him up. Bradley would never get tired of kissing Jake; he always let himself be guided by Bradley and melted into it every time. Jake knew how to use his mouth when he wasn’t talking. He licked his way into Bradley’s mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Bradley could tell Jake was distracted and he knew it was his time to strike. He continued to kiss Jake, but he pushed his hips forward until he was halfway seated inside Jake. He gasped as Bradley slid in and Bradley breathed a laugh against Jake’s cheek. 

“Come on, Jake, let me hear you,” he said, calling back to Jake’s comment earlier in the evening. “If this is going to be the best sex of your life, I need to hear you to know it.” He sat up a bit and grinned down at Jake. 

Jake looked so beautiful below Bradley, eyes open but glazed over with pleasure, hands white-knuckling the pillow above his head, and legs spread wide to fit Bradley between them. He darted his tongue out to lick his spit-slick lips and Bradley ran his fingers down the side of Jake’s torso to finally let them come to a rest on Jake’s hips with a bruising grip.

“So beautiful, Jake,” Bradley whispered as he began to slowly move his hips. “So pretty, and I have it all to myself right now.” A blush crept up Jake’s chest and flooded onto his cheeks at being called pretty.

“Do you like being called pretty, sweetheart?” Bradley asked. “Because it’s true. I’ve never had anyone prettier.”

Jake was chanting a mantra of “please, fuck, please,” and panted in time with Bradley’s thrusts. He arched his back and pushed his hips closer to Bradley to give him a better angle.

“Fuck!” Jake shouted and Bradley assumed he had hit the sweet spot. “Roo– Ah! Right there, Bradley. Fuck, fuck, don’t stop!”

Bradley picked up the pace slightly and once he saw sweat begin to bead on Jake’s hairline, he moved his hands from their place on Jake’s hips to give the attention to his cock. 

“Come on, princess,” Bradlet said as he worked his hand up and down Jake’s length. He could tell by Jake’s erratic breathing and the precome at the tip that he was close.  “Come for me.”

Jake picked up his “please, fuck, please,” mantra once again before resorting to no words and just heavy breathing. 

“Fuck, Bradley, I’m so close, don’t stop,” Jake panted.

Bradley himself was getting close, but he was determined to outlast Jake. He worked his hand faster to get Jake even closer to the edge; he was already right there, and just needed to be pushed over the brink. After a few more strokes in time with the thrust of Bradley’s hips, Jake finally couldn’t keep his hold on the pillow any longer. 

“Come on, baby, just let it go.” Bradley caught Jake’s hand as it came flying off the pillow and stopped it before it could attempt to help Bradley finish him off. They interlocked their fingers together and Bradley kept up his steady rhythm.

Jake kept constant eye contact while his release built to the breaking point and seemed to have one last moment of clarity before tumbling down over the edge. His eyes shut tight, mouth dropping open but not letting any sound escape. He painted white stripes of come over Bradley’s hand and his own stomach, thrusting his hips down onto Bradley’s cock and then up into his hand as he chased pleasure. Jake slowed his hips and Bradley slowed his and eventually pulled out.

“Holy fucking shit, Bradley,” Jake breathed. He laid on the bed as if he was boneless, fingers still laced with Bradley’s. 

Bradley brought his other hand up to Jake’s face, meaning to simply hold the side of his face, but Jake took matters into his own hand and used his free hand to guide Bradley’s to his mouth. He took Bradley’s come-covered hand and sucked two of his fingers into his mouth. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” Bradley gasped. He watched his fingers disappearing into Jake’s mouth and let his breathing get heavier. 

Once Jake had licked them clean, he reached out both hands to peel the condom from Bradley and tie it off to toss it into the trash bin next to the bed. He beckoned Bradley forward so he was straddling Jake’s chest while still on his knees. 

Bradley wrapped a hand around his cock and went to work on finishing himself off. Jake wrapped his hands around the back of Bradley’s thighs and propped his mouth open. Bradley groaned at the sight and pumped his fist faster, wanting to reach the same release as Jake. This time it was Bradley’s turn to adopt the “please, fuck, please,” mantra and he threw his head back and reached his other hand out to tangle his fingers in Jake’s hair. 

“God, Jake, fuck, Jake, Jake,” Bradley panted through his teeth and in time with his strokes

Only a few seconds later, it was his turn to cover Jake’s face with his come, most of it landing on his cheeks and lips. 

Bradley scooted back and leaned down to lick the come off Jake’s face where his own tongue couldn’t reach and then moved down to Jake’s lips to kiss him. It was a messy kiss as they swapped saliva and come. Bradley pulled away after a few minutes to throw his leg back over and lay next to Jake’s side. He pressed small kisses to the side of his neck while Jake slowed his breathing. 

“Okay?” Bradley asked Jake.

“Fuck, Bradley, I’m amazing,” he said with his eyes closed. “This was so much better than I expected.”

“I told you it was going to be the best sex of your life.”

Jake took a deep breath and turned his head to Bradley. “Did you mean that other thing?” he asked in a small voice. 

Bradley wracked his brain for what he possibly could have said that had Jake seeming anxious to ask. He finally landed on when he called Jake his. It was something he had said in the moment, but thinking back on it, he really did mean it. He wanted to keep Jake to himself. He didn’t want to let anyone else have him, didn’t want to let him out of his sight. 

“If you want it, Jake, then you’re all mine,” Bradley said, kissing the tip of Jake’s nose and stroking a hand down the side of his face. “Not just for right now.”

Jake smiled and leaned closer to Bradley to softly kiss him. Bradley started to peel himself off under the premise of getting a rag to clean them off. Jake grunted and wrapped his arms tighter around Bradley, refusing to let him up.

“I need to clean us off, Jake,” Bradley protested. “Mainly you, you’re getting sticky. It’s gross.”

Jake huffed and rolled Bradley onto his back. He started to kiss down Bradley’s neck and stopped at his collarbone. 

“What about round two?” Jake asked, beginning to slowly rock his hips against Bradley’s thigh. Bradley was seriously considering it, but it was getting late and his eyelids were feeling heavy.

“As much as I want to, Seresin,” Bradley started. “I’m sleepy. And I want to get at least a little clean and pass out.” He paused to think for a second and card his fingers through Jake’s hair. “That just means we get to save it for when we get back.”

“What no more Jake?” Jake asked Bradley. “I like hearing my name coming from your mouth. It sounds so nice.”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Fine, Jake,” he said in return. “When we get back, I will fuck you into the matress so hard you can’t walk the next day and you’re screaming my name so your neighbors will be too embarrassed to call me anything other than Rooster.”

Jake sat up a little and stared at Bradley because of his matter-of-fact tone and started to crack a smile. 

“Aye, aye, Lieutenant,” Jake said and gave him a mocking salute. 

[trickphotography2]

First and Goal

Hangman hosts a college football day for the Daggers, only to have Payback bring a history making Angel. (Hangman x female Reader fluff, no use of 'you')

Completely self-indulgant college football fic after seeing Glen and Danny at the Texas and Miami games last week. Fic contains some trash talking of Miami and Alabama. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Word count: 1.5K

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

Jake tore his eyes away from the television when the doorbell rang, huffing as the Game Day announcers stalled on making their prediction of who would win the Texas vs. Alabama game. Phoenix pushed away from the kitchen island where she and Coyote were grazing on the snacks he’d set out. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” he grumbled as two hosts picked Bama. Planting his hands on his hips, he pressed his lips into a thin line when Lee Corso called for the fight song to play, and the twang of Sweet Home Alabama started.

“Roll Tide, I guess,” came a sigh beside him. Jake’s gaze snapped to the woman, taking in her crimson shirt, Navy regulation bun, and furrowed brow as she watched the antics. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Oh no, wait a minute, wait a minute. That’s not the right song - play Texas’ song!” 

“Yes!” He pumped his fist as Corso put on the Hook’em head. 

“Thank Christ.”  

“Not rooting for your team?” he asked, facing her. She rolled her eyes, pointing towards the logo on her chest - a Seminole head.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked - garnet, not crimson.” A slight southern accent colored her words. “While I appreciate Bama for making Tim Tebow cry, their fans are insufferable. I’m ready for them to get taken down a peg. If the Longhorns are the ones to do it, I guess I’ll put up with more of the Gig ‘em nonsense.”

“Hook ‘em,” Jake corrected, and the smirk curving her lips made him think she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Giving Hangman shit already, Syla?” Payback asked, tossing an arm over the woman’s shoulder. The woman grinned up at the pilot and raised an eyebrow. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” she laughed. Jake felt a shot of disappointment at the fond look that passed between the two. “But if you’re Hangman,” she added, turning her attention back towards Jake, “this is for you. Thanks for letting me crash.” She extended a bottle towards him - Wolcott bourbon, bottled in the bond.

“Thanks. Syla your name or callsign?” 

“Callsign.”

“You stationed here?”

“Soon, but I’m in town for the show.” 

“The…” he frowned, then nodded. “You’re a Blue Angel?”

“That I am.” The Blue Angels were the Navy’s flight demonstration team. Stationed at NAS Pensacola, they were the most high-profile squad that toured across the US. It’d made the news that they finally had their first female aviator on the team two years ago. “At least until the end of the tour, then I’m headed back to TOPGUN.”

“Oh, come on,” Fanboy grumbled, watching as the University of Miami quarterback was sacked. Across the kitchen, Syla pumped her fist and silently cheered while nursing her water bottle. Jake smirked into his beer. Fanboy and Syla had exchanged some good-natured shit-talking since Florida State and Miami were in the same conference and would be playing against one another later in the season. 

When she’d shared the story behind her callsign - Syla, short for See Ya Later Alligator - Fanboy had gone red in the face laughing as Jake chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Bob asked. 

Heaving a sigh, Syla explained, “My team is FSU Seminoles. We hate the Florida Gators, and there was a Gators fan in FRS with me. Our COs got tired of us shit-talking the whole season and decided to punish us by making our callsigns have to do with our rivalry. So I’m Syla, and he’s Renegade after our mascot.” 

“At least it’s not Swamp,” Jake offered, thinking of how Gainesville, where the University of Florida was located, was nicknamed ‘The Swamp.’

“Yeah, that cost me 150 pushups.” 

“Run, run, run, run, run!” Syla screamed, jumping off the couch with Jake beside her. 

“Come on!” he yelled. When the player was tackled after a 40-yard run, he whooped and held a hand to Syla, who laughed and slapped his palm before leaning around him to high-five Fanboy. 

“Fuck. There’s three of them,” Phoenix grumbled. 

The afternoon passed into shouts of “He was wide fucking open!”, “No! Sit his ass down!”, “Where’s the damn flag?”, “Pass interference!” and “Find it! Find it!” During commercials, they quickly learned about one another - Syla was a Florida girl born and raised in Tallahassee. She’d graduated from FSU and attended as many games as possible during the last three years she’d been stationed in Pensacola. Touring with the Angels made it hard since she was on the road from March to November, but the constant travel was worth it to be the first female Blue Angel. She was looking forward to the stability of being an instructor at TOPGUN and not living out of her duffle bag.

Syla retrieved her uniform from Payback’s car at halftime and disappeared into the bathroom. “She’s nice,” Coyote told Payback as Jake stepped into his backyard. 

“She’s great. Pain in the ass perfectionist, but that’s what got her on the Angels.” 

“She’ll be a good trainer,” Phoenix added. “Have you seen that diamond maneuver they pull?” 

“So, how do you know each other?” Jake asked, glancing at Payback.

“We met in flight school and kept in touch from there.” 

“You guys…” Rooster cocked an eyebrow.

“Nooo,” Payback quickly replied, then shuddered. “She’s like a sister. A sister,” he repeated, pinning the other men with a stern, warning look.

A while later, the door opened, and Syla peeked out, her eyes meeting Jake’s. “They’re about to kick off.” 

“Be right in,” he smiled back. After collecting the empty beer bottles from his friends, he jogged back inside. Syla had swapped out her jean shorts and t-shirt for her dress white skirt, and white tank top. She declined another drink - she’d sipped a glass of bourbon earlier before switching to water, saying that she needed to be sharp for work later - but accepted a soda. 

The Daggers drifted in and out of the house, Payback sometimes joining them in the cheering squad, but Syla and Jake were glued to the game. When Texas threw a 39-yard touchdown to pull further ahead, Jake screamed and jumped around his living room, much to the amusement of his friends. Syla whooped and clapped, raising her hand for a high five. Their palms slapped, and his fingers curled around hers, giving a quick shake before collapsing beside her. His shoulders brushed against her as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and covering his mouth.

“We gotta head out soon if you’re gonna make the dinner,” Payback said as the game clock wound down. 

“Shit,” Syla groaned, glancing at her watch. Between plays, she quickly slipped on her blouse, lower lip between her teeth as she watched the action and did up the buttons. Jake couldn’t help but glance at her legs as she swayed beside him, their knees touching as she tucked in her shirt.

When the quarterback took a snap and dropped to his knee, Jake exploded off the couch, whooping as Texas won. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around a laughing Syla, lifting her off her feet as he celebrated his team beating the Crimson Tide on their home field.

“Syla, we really gotta go,” Payback said. 

“Fuck, okay, uh,” she said, stepping out of Jake’s reach and patting his shoulder. “Congrats on the win. It was nice meeting all of you. I’ll hopefully see you in a couple months if I don’t get reprimanded for being late for dinner with the top brass. Oh, and Fanboy - I’ll think of you when I’m in Doak for the game in November.”

Smirking, Fanboy held up his hands, his thumbs touching to make the Miami ‘U’ signal. She gave him a saccharine smile and did the same; all her fingers were down except her middle ones, so she flipped him off. “I’ll walk you out,” Jake offered, grabbing Syla’s bag from the dining room table. Payback narrowed his eyes at the other man. “It sucks you can’t watch your team play tonight.” 

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “we played our hard game against LSU last week, and it’s an easy match-up this week. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and check the score every once in a while.” 

“What time do you fly tomorrow?”

“Gates open at 0800, and we’re the closer at 1520. Why, gonna come to the show, Hangman?”

“You never know,” he winked. “Heard the Angels do a pretty impressive diamond formation.” 

“18-inch clearance, wingtip to canopy,” she smirked. “If you come, I’ll be in the blue and yellow flight suit.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Chuckling, she took her bag, their fingers brushing and sending a pleasant tingling sensation up his spine. “Good to meet you, Syla.”

“You too, Hangman.” 

Payback paused beside Jake when she walked away and hissed, “No.”

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

Notes: The Blue Angels are based out of Pensacola and just welcomed their first female pilot in 2023 - callsign Stalin. I miss seeing them buzz the beaches and hear them practice in the afternoons. They tour the US and Canada, and the clips I've seen are phenomenal. If you haven't seen the pilot perspective of the tight diamond formation, I highly recommend it.

The 0800 and 1520 are military time, so it's 1520 is 3:20PM.

Read part 2, Overtime.

[ausetkmt]

The "Negro Fort" massacre | libcom.org

This article is an excerpt of Wasserman's A People's History of Florida.

The Patriots War, the War of 1812, the Creek War, and the Seminole War were all closely interrelated conflicts, revolving around Indian Removal and slavery. The fighting in the U.S. Southeast during the second decade of the 19th century defined Manifest Destiny, which was underlined by a disposition to expand slavery and white supremacy. Manifest Destiny was the self-declared right of the United States to violate national sovereignty to eliminate any perceived threat of an encroaching foreign colonial power in its vicinity. This policy also intended to seize Spanish colonial possessions and annex them in order so the South could procure additional slave states. Indian Removal and slavery were combined with Manifest Destiny in the war of 1812 as British agents utilized disaffected native tribes and fugitive slaves to form a Southern front against the United States.

The wars in the Southeastern United States were all characterized by the same predisposition of U.S. expansionism – which itself was characterized by attempts to expand and protect slavery. The reigning U.S. doctrines of the early 19th century came about in opposition to the threat that slave and native sanctuaries like Florida posed to the Southern states. As the policies of Indian Removal and Manifest Destiny became more defined in the Southern theater of war, the free black and native settlements found themselves in a constant conflict with the slave-raiding, land-grabbing white settlers of Georgia.

After their defeat at Horseshoe Bend in the Creek War, the Red Stick Creeks fled into Florida to avoid Jackson’s draconian terms of surrender. Jackson’s military intervention in Florida partially focused on further destroying the anti-white Red Sticks Creeks that were incorporated into the Seminole and black settlements. As with the fugitive blacks, they grew to hold considerable power in the Seminole tribe, eventually enveloping the old chiefs.

In the war of 1812, the British used Florida as their base of operations to create a Southern front against the U.S. military. Florida was a diversion from the war in a North. British agents promised thousands of natives and fugitive blacks land, freedom, and protection as long as they fought on the British side in the war. The Seminoles, Miccosukees, Red Stick Creeks, and blacks established closer ties in these frontier operations, with the further understanding that they all shared a mutual interest to fend off the encroaching white settlers.

In 1814, British military official Col. Nichols ordered his Red Stick Creek allies to construct a fort on the Appalachicola River. The British retreated from their position at Pensacola after Andrew Jackson’s invasion. They were joined by their Red Stick Creek allies and several hundred slaves belonging to the residents of that town. 1 Nichols furnished the fort with artillery and munitions. The fort was located fifteen miles above the mouth of the river, manned with three hundred British soldiers and an immediate flow of refugee Seminoles and runaway slaves from Southern states who sought the protection of the British military and arms to defend their lands from white settlers. 2 The purpose of the fort was to assemble an army of disaffected indigenous people and runaway slaves to attack the white settlements on the southern Georgia/Alabama borders. By December 1814, over 1,400 warriors gathered at the fort – a coalition of refugee Red Stick Creeks, Seminoles, blacks, and numerous tribes indigenous to Florida. 3 General Gaines estimated 900 warriors and 450 armed blacks inhabited the fort. 4 The runaway slaves were given the opportunity to either leave for the British colonies to receive land as free settlers or fight under the British military. 5 By the early summer of 1815, Nichols left the Appalachicola for England accompanied by a handful of Red Stick Creek chiefs. He intended on making their cause known to the British Crown in hopes for protection against the Americans. The Red Stick Creeks and Seminole warriors who remained behind abandoned the fort soon afterwards. 6

Before Nichols had even left, the blacks had already taken possession of the fort. An additional 300 to 400 runaways were estimated to have fled to the fort for protection. 7

A letter from General Gaines on May 14th declared: “Certain Negroes and outlaws have taken possession of a Fort on the Appalachicola River in the territory of Florida.” 8

The Seminoles “were kept in awe” at the hundreds of armed blacks in the vicinity. “For a period,” William H. Simmons claimed, the Seminoles “were placed in the worst of all political conditions, being under a dulocracy or government of slaves.” 9

Nichols left behind a large supply of arms, artillery, and ammunition to protect the inhabitants from slave raiders and to commission raids on Southern plantations. They were supplied with 2,500 stands of musketry, 500 carbines, 500 steel scabbard swords, four cases containing 200 pistols, 300 quarter casks of rifle powder, 162 barrels of cannon powder, and a large count of military stores. On the walls of the fort were mounted four long twenty-four pounder cannon, four long six-pounder cannon, a four-pound field pierce, and a five and a half inch howitzer. 10

The fort grew from a strategically defensive base to a flourishing free black community around the banks of the Appalachicola. The blacks cultivated fields and plantations extending fifty miles up the river. Many of the black Seminoles were descendents of West Africans. They inherited generations of knowledge of African agricultural techniques. The community surrounding the fort was attractive for its defensible position and cultivatable lands. Runaway slaves were pouring in on a daily basis. The community grew to about 1,000 blacks in the fields surrounding the fort. 11

A total 300 black men, women, and children were in possession of the fort, accompanied by about twenty Choctaws and a number of Seminoles. 12

Joshua Giddings vividly depicted the “Negro Fort”:

“Their plantations extended along the river several miles, above and below the fort. Many of them possessed large herds of cattle and horses, which roamed in the forests, gathering their food, both in summer and winter, without expense or trouble to their owners. The Pioneer Exiles from South Carolina had settled here long before the Colony of Georgia existed. Several generations had lived to manhood and died in those forest-homes. To their descendants it had become consecrated by “many an oft told tale” of early adventure, of hardship and suffering; the recollection of which had been retained in tradition, told in story, and sung in their rude lays. Here were graves of their ancestors, around whose memories were clustered the fondest recollections of the human mind. The climate was genial. They were surrounded by extensive forests, and far removed from the habitations of those enemies of freedom who sought to enslave them; and they regarded themselves as secure in the enjoyment of liberty. Shutout from the cares and strifes of civilized men, they were happy in their own social solitude. So far from seeking to injure the people of the United States, they were only anxious to be exempt, and entirely free from all contact with our population or government; while they faithfully maintained their allegiance to the Spanish crown.” 13

Colonel Patterson wrote about the Appalachicola Fort:

“The force of the negroes was daily increasing; and they felt themselves so strong and secure that they had commenced several plantations on the fertile banks of the Appalachicola, which would have yielded them every article of sustenance, and which would, consequently, in a short time have rendered their establishment quite formidable and highly injurious to the neighboring States.” 14

The fort was becoming a growing threat to slavery itself. The existence of an autonomous free black community was intolerable alone, but it became a rallying point for runaway slaves fleeing from other Southern states. The blacks were less concerned about “committing depredations” as was depicted by U.S. military officials than they were about protecting their freedom.

As Giddings described, they were “happy in their own social solitude,” finally free and safe after decades of harassment and terror. They had the means for sufficient provisions with no reason to attack the frontier settlers. As much as the expansionists wished to depict them as outlaws they could not attribute them to even one instance of murder or theft. The crime they were guilty for was to “inveigle negroes from the citizens of Georgia, as well as from the Creek and Cherokee nations of Indians.” 15

Col. Patterson commended its elimination:“The service rendered by the destruction of the fort, and the band of negroes who held it, and the country in its vicinity, is of great and manifest importance to the United States, and particularly those States bordering on the Creek nation, as it had become the general rendezvous for runaway slaves and disaffected Indians; and asylum where they were assured of being received; a stronghold where they found arms and ammunition to protect themselves against their owners and the Government.” 16

As the blacks peacefully flourished in their isolated community on the Appalachicola, military officials and slaveholders planned its destruction. On May 21, a British “gentleman of respectability” from Bermuda wrote a memorandum disapproving Col Nichols for having “espoused the cause of the slaves.” He wrote of the “Negro Fort”: “No time ought to be lost in recommending the adoption of speedy, energetic measures for the destruction of a thing held so likely to become dangerous to the state of Georgia.” 17

On March 15, 1816 the Secretary of War ordered General Andrew Jackson to call attention to the governor of Pensacola to the fort. If the Spanish governor refused to “put an end to an evil of so serious nature,” the U.S. government would promptly take measures to reduce it. If the Spanish government was too weak to destroy it, then the U.S. was more than willing to take it into its own hands.

On April 23, Jackson transmitted the demands of Secretary Crawford, ordering the Spanish governor to “destroy or remove from out frontier this banditti, put an end to an evil of so serious a nature, and return to our citizens and friendly Indians inhabiting our territory those negroes now in said fort, and which have been stolen and enticed from them.”

The blacks at the Appalachicola Fort were supposedly “enticed from the service of their masters.” 18

Of course the runaways couldn’t have possibly been dissatisfied with a life of servitude. Jackson knew that the slaves were not actually stolen away.

They were runaways from slaveholders who sought refuge at the fort with the promise of abundance and freedom under the protection of the free blacks. Most of the black warriors and families had been free for generations.

Their ancestors had fled from their masters to Spanish Florida many decades before. Plus Jackson’s request to the Spanish governor only gave a façade of legitimacy to the inevitable designs of the U.S. government. On April 8, two weeks before Jackson wrote the Spanish governor, he ordered General Gaines to destroy the “Negro Fort” regardless of its location on Spanish territory:

“I have little doubt of the fact, that this fort has been established by some villains for rapine and plunder, and that it ought to be blown up, regardless of the land on which it stands; and if your mind shall have formed the same conclusion, destroy it and return the stolen Negroes and property to their rightful owners.” 19

General Gaines carefully prepared for the operation. He himself believed that the fort would “produce much evil among the blacks of Georgia, and the eastern part of the Mississippi territory.” 20

Obviously this terrible evil meant to leave their lifetime of bondage for a state of freedom. Lt. Col. Duncan Lamont Clinch was assigned to destroy the fort. Clinch had his own interests when it came to the fort, being among the most prosperous slaveholders of Florida. He undoubtedly felt that his profit interests were threatened by its continued existence. Gaines ordered him to speedily establish a fort near the junction of the Flint and Chattahoochee rivers, where they joined to form the Appalachicola, to intimidate the “Negro Fort.”

Clinch was to meet the convoy of supplies from New Orleans with fifty soldiers once he was informed that they had arrived at the river. The convoy was detached with two gunboats. From that point, Gaines ordered him to proceed to the “Negro Fort” where if he was to “meet with opposition” then “arrangements will immediately be made for its destruction.” Gaines wished to provoke an attack to justify the destruction of the fort. For this purpose, Clinch was supplied with two eighteen-pound cannons and one howitzer. 21

On July 10, the supply convoy reached the mouth of the Appalachicola where they received a dispatch from Col. Clinch ordering them to hold their position until he could arrive with troops to escort them up the river. On July 17, a party of five men from the supply vessels was sent to gather fresh water.

Once the party entered the river, they discovered a black man on the shore, near one of the plantations along the Appalachicola. As soon as they touched down on the shore, about forty blacks and Seminoles fired a volley of shots from their hidden position in the bushes. The black man on the beach served as a decoy to lure the small party into the ambush. Three of the men were immediately killed, one dove into the water and made it back to the convoy, and the other was captured. 22

On that same day, Col. Clinch commenced to the “Negro Fort.” He left with about 116 soldiers and incidentally met a party of slave-hunting Creeks led by Chief McIntosh. The Coweta Creeks numbered about 150. They had been hired by General Jackson to capture slaves in the Appalachicola - offered fifty dollars for every slave they seized and returned to their owner.

A council was held where the Creeks agreed to keep parties in advance and capture every black that they discovered. On the 19th, they caught a black Seminole in the vicinity heading to the Seminole chiefs with the scalp of one of the members of the party they ambushed. The blacks were attempting to garner the assistance of their Seminole allies.

The prisoner communicated the story of the ambush. On the 20th, Clinch proceeded with the Creek force over to the fort and came within gunshot range. It was impossible to destroy the fort without artillery.

They were forced to wait until the gunboats from the supply vessel arrived. McIntosh was ordered to surround the fort with a third of his force and maintain an irregular fire. The blacks fired artillery back but to no avail. On the 23rd, the Creeks demanded that the blacks surrender but they responded defiantly. The black commander Garcon told the deputation of Creeks “he would sink any American vessels that should attempt to pass it; and he would blow up the fort if he could not defend it.” 23

The blacks then hoisted the English Union Jack accompanied with the red flag over the fort. The blacks knew that surrender would only mean slavery so they would be no compromise. For the next several days the blacks opened fire whenever any troops appeared in their view.

On July 27, the gunboats approached the fort. The blacks opened fire when they entered into gunshot range. The gunboats fired back with some cold shots to get an idea of their real distance. The gunboats then fired “the first hot one,” made red-hot in the cook’s galley, which went screaming over the wall and into the fort’s magazine full of gunpowder. The fort completely exploded. Col. Clinch reported the horrific destruction:

“The explosion was awful, and the scene horrible beyond description. Our first care, on arriving at the scene of the destruction, was to rescue and relieve the unfortunate beings who survived the explosion. The war yells of the Indians, the cries and lamentations of the wounded, compelled the soldier to pause in the midst of victory, to drop a tear for the sufferings of his fellow beings, and to acknowledge that the great Ruler of the Universe must have used us as his instruments in chastising the blood-thirsty and murderous wretches that defended the fort.” 24

He gave a “divine justification” for the massacre in the official report. But he also wrote a far more descriptive alternative account of the event without involving God:

"The explosion was awful, and the scene horrible beyond description. You cannot conceive, nor I describe the horrors of the scene. In an instant lifeless bodies were stretched upon the plain, buried in sand and rubbish, or suspended from the tops of the surrounding pines. Here lay an innocent babe, there a helpless mother; on the one side a sturdy warrior, on the other a bleeding squaw. Piles of bodies, large heaps of sand, broken guns, accoutrements, etc, covered the site of the fort. The brave soldier was disarmed of his resentment and checked his victorious career, to drop a tear on the distressing scene." 25

The terrible explosion instantly killed 270 black men, women, and children within the fort, the rest being mortally wounded out of the total 330 residents. Only a few survived. The black commander Garson and the Choctaw chief somehow managed to survive the explosion. The Creeks sentenced them to death for the murder of the four U.S. soldiers. They learned that the blacks had tarred and feathered the captured soldier.

The Creeks immediately executed them afterwards. Some six of the blacks were captured and immediately returned to their speculated masters - that is if they were ever held in bondage at all. The large number of runaway slaves on the fields that surrounded the river scattered about to safety. Some fled to the protection of the blacks and Seminoles at the Suwannee and others left to the growing free black community just south of Tampa Bay.

The elimination of the fort was not the end of the black Seminole social structure in Florida. Several other black communities remained largely intact. But it was far from the end of the terror inflicted on the black Seminoles by the Federal government. It was far from the end of their resistance either. They would strive to avenge the loss of their family members and loved ones. 26

[johnjhalseth]

I took a lot of pictures of The Deluna Cross at morning, noon and evening. This is twilight photos. In 1559 Tristán de Luna y Arellano landed on what is now Pensacola beach and August 15th the 1st Cristian religious services were held in would become the United States. This cross represents the approximate location. Pensapedia says it's called the Island Cross but I can't remember anyone calling it that and a quick survey of friends confirms.

Island Cross - Pensapedia, the Pensacola encyclopedia

[adamwatchesmovies]

Godzilla vs. Kong (2021)

I might’ve been a little starved for blockbusters the first time I saw Godzilla vs. Kong and rated it. In my defense, it was during the pandemic and the other movies I was able to see during lockdown were mostly disappointments. Reviewing the film again, I recognize that the human’s plot is undercooked while everything with the monsters is spectacular. Well, at least the movie knows where its priorities stand and considering what its audience wants to see…

When Godzilla suddenly attacks Apex Cybernetics’ Pensacola facility, conspiracy theorist Bernie Hayes (Brian Tyree Henry) becomes convinced they somehow provoked the titan. Madison Russell (Millie Bobby Brown) - an avid fan of his podcast - shares his suspicions. They rope her friend Josh (Julian Dennison) into investigating and confirm their fears aren't entirely unfounded. After the attack, Apex insists mankind needs to develop a weapon against Godzilla and asks Monarch to give them access to Kong. They believe the titan ape can lead them inside the vast caverns below our world to a power source formidable enough to take down the king of the monsters.

Though Godzilla’s name appears first in the title, this film is about Kong much more than the radioactive dinosaur. It’s a good choice, as the ape is resourceful, an underdog in this fight and intelligent enough to communicate with Monarch via sign language. Godzilla might’ve protected the Earth/humanity in the previous movies, but was it really a heroic character, or was the nuclear reptile just killing its rivals? Kong, on the other hand, has actual human friends. Even though the Iwis we met during Kong: Skull Island have been wiped out (seems like a missed opportunity), Kong still has a link to them in the form of Jia (Kaylee Hottle), a deaf-mute Iwi survivor adopted by Dr. Ilene Andrews (Rebecca Hall). Nonetheless, his situation gives him a very relatable quest: he wants to know if there is a new family for him out there.

One-half of the human's story fares fairly well. With the help of Apex Cybernetics, Dr. Ilene Andrews, along with Jia and hollow-earth scientist Nathan Lind (Alexander Skarsgård) follow Kong into this hidden world beneath our feet that houses all sorts of monsters and an ancient rivalry between Kong and Godzilla (seems wacky, but it does lead to some fun developments). These characters are following Kong on his journey so when the 8th wonder of the world is put in danger, they are too. The other humans, however, feel like they only appear to deliver exposition or to give us some familiar faces. You could easily re-jig this story to remove them.

But of course, you didn't come to this film for the human element. Yes, kaiju films are better when the "tiny" protagonists are compelling, but if there's one aspect of this movie director Adam Wingard had to get right, it was the Godzilla and Kong stuff. I'm happy to say you won't be disappointed. The Titan battles are varied, clearly shot, tense and action-packed. You get three rounds between Kong and Godzilla, with a clear winner at the end that will leave fans of either camp satisfied. I know a lot of purists will say a Godzilla film isn't the same without rubber suits, but this picture does so much with modern special effects. Varied locations, varied angles, moves no human could do, etc. That last brawl in the neon-lit Hong Kong will make you say "wow!".

There have been a lot of Godzilla films since the character appeared. Some have been dramatic, others comedic or somewhere in the middle with an emphasis on dumb fun. None have featured action scenes as good as the ones in Godzilla vs. Kong. Even if you only have a passing interest in the characters, the highlights are strong, strong enough to make you forgive the parts that could've been strengthened. It's not even a guilty pleasure; it's gargantuan fun. (On Blu-ray, March 27, 2024)