#Naval Laser

[quirkwizard]

As you all may know, My Hero Academia has reached a momentous milestone in its story. Something that has had so much time and effort put into it, you can't help but celebrate it. No, I am not talking about reaching 400 Chapters, but something even bigger: Aoyama finally managed to hit someone.

Not a robot, not a piece of debris. Not a glancing blow, not a near miss, but an actual human target. After not hitting one person the whole story, he finally did it. All it took was the destruction of a prized possession, the harassment of a psychotic villain, the potential death of a beloved character, an assist from Hagakure, and probably the worst physical, emotional, and mental trauma Aoyama has experienced in his life. I'd say it was worth it.

And for any of you claiming that Hagakure's sudden appearance to reflect the laser shots back at the assassin is a Deus Ex Machina, I just want to point out that Hagakure was clearly shown there whenever the story cut back to Aoyama and Fat Gum fighting the assassin. She's in every panel with them, and I can't believe people are missing it. A perfect set-up and payoff for Aoyama and his biggest struggle as a character Bravo, Horikoshi.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Aoyama Yuuga #Naval Laser #Hagakure Tooru #Invisibility

[princess-of-the-corner]

Do you ever come up with a hilarious idea so you readjust your timeline slightly for it?

#teachnically her timeline wasn’t established but #endeavor upon finding out that one of Shoto’s classmates has a naval laser quirk: ?????? she’s been dead too long to have a kid your age???

[pocketramblr]

oh i see its writer guilt time

anyway, quirk phantom thoughts i had this morning instead: Foresight and Permeation would have been happier if they had swapped hosts, but alas they can’t do that on their own. also, was Chisaki breaking into hives for using his quirk one of Overhaul’s ways of fighting back? Or was it simply a side effect of biology like Cremation scarring Touya

#on the one hand i should go with consistancy right and just its the body and quirk not meshing #on the other hand overhaul specifially as a phantom feels like maybe he could do that #since matter manipulation vs simply existing too hot in an ice body #also what does naval laser think considering reveals #the questions will keep me away from guilt about truthteller right

[mishy-mashy]

This was on a separate post but I think it should have its own (also because I went off-track when I first wrote this)

Remember when Midoriya was trying to wake up a Quirk as a child, trying to pull the couch toward him or breathe fire?

This was him trying to use his parents' Quirks, in the hope he inherited one of theirs.

Inko could pull small objects. Hisashi could breathe fire.

Anyway this is a [Midoriya has AFO] post and [DFO is real]-

Anyway please listen? If his dad was AFO, and passed on that Quirk to little Midoriya, it makes sense that they all considered him Quirkless.

All For One starts as a blank slate. It has no Quirks available, because none were taken yet. And if no Quirks were stolen, nevermind passing through the user to be bestowed to others, then AFO at the base level is the equivalent of being Quirkless.

Midoriya having AFO would leave him as Quirkless. And he never would've known if he had AFO, because he thinks his dad just breathes fire. AFO's existence is just an urban legend to people back then.

Midoriya wouldn't be able to breathe fire if AFO was his dad, because that was never his Quirk.

Even if he did have a fire-breathing Quirk, AFO holds onto random ones like Naval Laser. It could just be one of those gags.

All For One is a quirk that takes. One For All decides to be given.

Midoriya, rather than take, was instead given Quirks, and sees people's goodness. He isn't selfish at his core. He's too optimistic. This is the opposite of AFO, which takes and gives—Midoriya was on the receiving end of being given, by OFA.

If Midoriya had a natural AFO, it makes sense that he's Quirkless. It also makes sense that he can handle multiple Quirks from OFA; because the nature of AFO is being able to wield multiple Quirks in one body.

AFO looks for Quirks that are easy to use, and straightforward. Midoriya ended up with Quirks that he has to strategize and think with, and even Bruce mentions his brain couldn't do all the processing, which is why he froze up.

Midoriya is past the point of Singularity. Yoichi says this when he first tells Ninth "You are not alone". But Midoriya is completely fine.

He only breaks his bones. He doesn't deform and become something the human body warps to be able to contain the Quirks. He got a good deal, when considering what Shigaraki became once.

He has OFA's Quirk Factor, but that Quirk Factor stores up Quirk Factors within itself. We can deduce that from Bruce saying only Danger Sense's Factor was stolen. It's naturally a stockpiling power similar to AFO that Yoichi had forced on him, and at its very base, Bruce called an "unformed dud".

Now, it's more grown from all the strength and Quirks stockpiled. Even if OFA counts as one Quirk, it still holds multiple Factors inside itself, so it might as well be the same as multiple Factors to the body. When Shinomori explained his life shortened because of multiple Quirks, he shows all the users before him, rather than the more-common "One For All is glowing in my hand" or "One For All is a flame" image to show the crystallization of power. Though it could just be to show the individuals adding to the short-life..

In the void, we see OFA vestiges are inside the vault, according to the door's face. On the other side, like when Yoichi was alive, could be AFO.

Midoriya sees the goodness of people. He said Eri's power was gentle, and always affirms that she saved him when she tries putting herself down. He says Shinso's Quirk is amazing, and he'd make a great hero. When seeing Chisaki while fighting Nagant, he just said he'd talk to him later, and promised to fulfill her promise if he was willing to direct his regret toward Eri. Kudo says he should hate Bakugo, but Midoriya looks at the heart, and believes in that.

AFO only sees the Quirk first. He looked at Ragdoll, decided to take the Quirk and didn't care for what happened to her body afterwards. When he looked at Best Jeanist, he applauded his use of his Quirk to save everyone, but then knocked Jeanist down anyway, saying it required too much work, so he didn't need the Quirk.

Midoriya having AFO and OFA would make him an intersection. He's born with AFO, but because he believed he was Quirkless, had grown up being put down, and knows what it's like to be weak. Born with AFO, but seeing the unequal world, and being given OFA because he wanted to save people and be a hero.

Y'know, this sounds a lot like Yoichi. Believed to be Quirkless because his Quirk required someone else, and therefore was unfinished and "non-existent". Even AFO didn't realize it existed because it was so weak.

Midoriya wanted to save people. He has AFO. He's living what AFO could've done [saving others] and embodying Yoichi's belief ["the power to give and take could have been the kindest in the whole world"].

All For One is blank. AFO only had an Ability he could use because he stole his mother's at birth.

Midoriya didn't. His Quirk should've come when he turned five. And he didn't know about AFO. He doesn't even have holes in his palms

If there's no holes in his palms, either his Quirk Factor is elsewhere, or manifests differently in said hands. In which we consider Inko: she can pull small objects toward her

It's possible for Midoriya to have a combination of AFO and Inko's Abilities. He tried pulling objects, but he never tried pulling people or Quirks.

If Midoriya can take Quirks from a distance, and AFO, like OFA, stores Quirks within a single Factor, then Kudo could be saying to let go of One For All so he can make room for All For One's Factor. Midoriya would have the capacity for it.

#stuff i mentioned in a previous post that should be its own post #dfo is like the rat swarm to me #i have the same feelings toward it like the rats #man imagine everyones getting the perfect fusion of quirks #like bakugo and midoriya #and then we have endeavor with four kids and one of them got the wrong combination (touya) #mha #bnha #spoilers #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #afo #all for one #ofa #one for all #dfo #izuku midoriya #yoichi shigaraki #inko midoriya #an earlier post about how the users could be guarding the door of the vault something something #maybe by letting go of ofa then technically AFO gets what he wants #but then the factors are destroyed by the war raging in afo's vestige land #in any case i want more details about the vestiges #like height backstory etc #why is bruce a head taller than kudo? why does en look shorter than midoriya? HOW TALL ARE THEY?

[mads-weasley]

Proudest Husband Award

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) receives an award at a Navy Awards Banquet, and Bradley can't help but tell everyone how much she deserves it.

(y/n) - your name

jayhawk - your callsign

The Bradshaws were so excited for the ANA, or the Association of Naval Aviators, annual awards banquet that night. A few months beforehand, Bradley got a letter asking if he would present one of the awards at the ceremony. When (y/n) saw who it was from, she ran into their bedroom holding it up.

"Guess who this is from?" she asked with a bright smile.

Bradley was in the middle of changing shirts when she burst into the room. Pulling the shirt off his head, he walked over to her, eyes squinting as he grimaced. "Your parents? I don't know. Who?"

She held it up in front of his face. "The ANA!!"

Eyes widening, he grabbed the letter from her hands and opened it. As he scanned the page, his heart pounded. 'She got it,' he thought. 'She has to get it.'

When he finally read the words he had been waiting 6 months to read, a huge smile formed on his face.

(Y/n) was buzzing with anticipation. "What does it say, Roost?"

"Congratulations," he read, "You have been selected to present the ANA Fleet Support and Special Mission Award to this year's recipient." He stopped there, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

She engulfed him in a hug, rubbing his bare back. "Aww, that's amazing, babe! I'm proud of you."

Returning the hug, he quickly placed the letter in the back pocket of his jeans. "I love you, Jayhawk." He whispered.

She planted a kiss on his cheek, sighing. "I love you, too, Rooster."

Today was the day of the banquet, and Bradley couldn't wait. He was counting down the hours until he got to get up on that stage and give (y/n) the award she very much deserved after their special mission that called the couple back to Top Gun. During the mission, her spotter couldn't get the laser to work, so she had to eyeball it. With her expertise, she easily hit the target, successfully completing the mission objective. That's not what made her performance award-worthy, though.

When she climbed over the mountain and into coffin corner, she eventually self-sacrificed herself saving Bradley and their infamous Captain, Pete Mitchell, from being shot down. Her F-18 was hit by a SAM and went down hard. She was able to eject in time but suffered injuries to her shoulder and leg from the crash. Somehow, she made it to the enemy's bombed airbase and stole an F-14 fighter. Then, she made it back to the carrier and back into the safety of Bradley's arms.

So when he heard about the Special Mission Award, he knew who he was going to nominate. Keeping it a secret, he completed the application form and got Mav to sign it, as he was their commanding officer during the mission. 

(Y/n) was sat at the vanity, curling her hair in their bedroom when she heard the sweet, yet goofy voice of her husband singing “Great Balls of Fire” in the shower. Laughing, she continued to get ready as she listened to him sing his heart out. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, and (y/n) had to stop herself from drooling at the sight of Bradley with only a towel tied around his waist.

He noticed her staring, and smirked, walking towards her. “Like what you see, Bradshaw?”

“What makes you say that?” She asked, turning away from him to look back in the mirror, fixing her earrings. “I liked your singing, though.”

Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he nuzzled his head into her neck. “Why thank you.”

(Y/n) checked her phone quickly before sighing. “As much as I would love to stay like this with you all night, we have to get going soon, Roost.”

Pulling away slightly, he kissed her temple lovingly. “I know. Me too. Tonight is going to be great, though. And can I say, you already look mighty fine, sweetheart.”

She got up and turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And you, Mr. Bradshaw, are looking smoking hot. Even hotter than those balls of fire you love to sing about, hun.”

“Oh really?” He asked, pulling her flush again him.

“Yes sir.”

“Would you like to see some other great ba-” 

“Bradley Bradshaw!” She interrupted, hitting his chest playfully.

He just laughed in response, leaning down and pecking her lips. Sitting back down in front of the vanity, she continued to get ready, sneaking glances of Bradley getting dressed in the mirror.

“I can feel you staring.” He announced, still facing away from her.

(Y/n) snickered. “Am I not allowed to? I am your wife after all.”

Turning her way with his signature smirk, he finished buttoning up his sleek dress blues. “Well, wife, now it's my turn to watch.”

Before he could step in her way, she snatched her dress blues off the bed and bolted to the bathroom, laughing and locking the door behind her. "Not this time!" With a laugh, he shook his head and continued to get ready as she changed in the bathroom.

About 10 minutes later Rooster checked his watch. It was already 5:20 pm and they needed to leave in the next ten minutes to get there on time. He knocked on the door gently.

"Hey, babe. We need to leave in a few. I'm sure you look amazing."

Getting no response, his brows furrowed. "(Y/n)? Are you okay?"

Nothing.

He quickly rummaged through their nightstand to find a key. Unlocking the door, he saw her standing in front of the mirror in her bra, eyes not moving from the jagged scar on her shoulder.

He slowly approached her, speaking softly. "Hey, sweetheart. You okay?"

“It’s been almost a year since…” she trailed off, finally tearing her eyes off the scar and to her husband.

Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders, running his thumb over the spot. “I know. I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you.”

Still in his arms, (y/n) turned to face him with teary eyes. “I was terrified, Brad. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that you were safe.”

He hugged her tight, keeping his own tears at bay. “I love you more than anything, (y/n). You make me so proud.”

Separating, she sniffled quietly. “I’m gonna get dressed.”

Bradley’s eyes softened as he looked at the state of his wife.“Let me help.”

“Okay.” She whispered.

He helped her slide her arms into her blouse and then dress blue jacket, placing a soft kiss on her scarred shoulder. After she finished getting ready, the couple set out in Bradley’s Bronco for the banquet. 

The couple parked and began walking to the entrance hand in hand, taking a deep breath in front of the doors.

“You ready, Lieutenant Bradshaw?” He asked.

“Yes sir, Captain Bradshaw.” 

As (y/n) was talking to another female lieutenant, Bradley took a sip of his drink and nervously checked his watch. 7:25. Award presentations were supposed to start at 7:30 on the dot. Even though (y/n)’s award was one of the last ones, he was getting more and more nervous.

He leaned down to her ear. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll meet you at our table.”

As he turned, (y/n) grabbed his hand, leaning and kissing his cheek. “I love you. Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this, hun.”

“Love you, too.”

When he got into the bathroom, he pulled out his speech and looked into the mirror. “Good evening. My name is Captain Bradley Bradshaw, and it is an honor to be amo-” 

“Kid, you’re going to do fine.” A voice interrupted.

Whipping around, Bradley’s eyes widened at the man coming out of the bathroom stall. 

“Mav. I’m gonna crash and burn.”

The older man just laughed. “The only thing you need to remember is that all this is for (y/n) and what she’s accomplished. You know her, Rooster, she won’t care about some speech.”

Sighing, Bradley placed the paper back into his pocket. “I know. I just want to make the night perfect for her. We both know how much she deserves it.”

"Yes, we do." He motioned towards the door, "Come on, they're about to start."

With every speech and award that went by, Bradley became more nervous. His leg was bouncing under the table with anxiety as the speech before his started. Sensing his worry, (y/n) placed a hand on his thigh, effectively calming him down. He looked over at her briefly and was mesmerized by his sheer admiration for her.

Before he knew it, it was his turn. (Y/n) squeezed his hand with a small smile as he got up and walked towards the podium.

"Good evening," he began, "My name is Captain Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and it is truly an honor to be among the company of such amazing aviators."

(Y/n) looked at him with such pride as he glanced at her before continuing the speech.

“The recipient of this year’s award is one of the most talented pilots I have ever known. Their skills in the cockpit, as well as on the ground have made them a very valuable asset and member of the Navy.”

Rooster couldn’t look at his wife for more than 3 seconds at a time because he got ten times more nervous when he did. Mav sensed this, nodding when Bradley looked over at him.

“This award recognizes a naval aviator that has gone above and beyond the call of duty on fleet support or a special mission. As soon as I heard about this award, one name instantly came to mind.”

Now, Rooster could look (y/n) in the eye as the cat was about to be let out of the bag.

“This pilot completed and was injured a special mission that was of utmost importance to the safety of the country we serve to protect. Due to the classified nature of the mission, I cannot give details, but what I can give you is who this recipient is outside the cockpit.”

Confused was an understatement. (Y/n) thought hard about who the recipient could be and how Bradley knew them so well.

"This pilot is the most selfless person I have ever known and is the first to arrive and the last to leave the base, regardless if she feels like it. Her fiery, yet loving personality draws everyone towards her without her even realizing it. With just a smile, she can brighten a room. She certainly changed my life the second she walked into it, and I don't know where I'd be without her."

Everything clicked in (y/n)'s mind. Her. He was talking about her. Eyes tearing up, she placed her shaking hands over her mouth. Bradley looked over at her with a sweet smile as he paused his speech for a few seconds. He continues, not breaking eye contact.

"She's my best friend, and I love her with everything inside me," he started, clearing his throat, which seemed to close up. "I am beyond proud to present this year's Association of Naval Aviators Fleet Support and Special Mission Award to my wife, Lt. (Y/n) "Jayhawk" Bradshaw."

With a sheepish smile, (y/n) rose from her seat and made her way to the stage. Bradley pulled her into his warm embrace as he whispered into her hair.

"I'm so proud of you. I love you, so much."

Pulling away, he kissed her temple and handed her the award. They both had the sweetest smiles, sharing a moment as the audience applauded.

(Y/n) stepped up to the podium, looking back at Bradley, who nodded softly.

"I'm not going to lie, I had no idea this was coming. I just thought we were here because Bradley was going to present this award." She briefly glanced back at him. "I just want to thank everyone that has helped me get where I am today. My fellow pilots, instructors, family, and friends. But most of all, I want to thank my amazing husband for always believing in me and being my biggest supporter."

As she turned, continuing the speech, Bradley was watching from the corner of the stage with so much pride, that he thought his heart might burst. (Y/n) had struggled physically and mentally the past year since the mission, so seeing her comfortable in her element again brought tears to his eyes. He was brought back to the moment by applause. Walking off the stage, (y/n) took his hand as they returned to their seats.

When the couple returned home, (y/n) still couldn't believe she had gotten the award. She sat in their bedroom, wiping off her makeup as she called out to Bradley.

"I still can't believe you kept this secret for so long, babe."

He walked into the room in his pajama pants and t-shirt. "It was super hard, but the look on your face was one hundred percent worth it."

Sighing, she turned to him. "Thank you. I'd be lost without you, Brad."

"It's definitely the other way around, but I just wanted you to get recognized for all you've persevered through."

(Y/n) and Rooster climbed into bed a few minutes later, Bradley tucking her into his side. She peered up at him, truly taking the sight in: the scar on his cheek from a car accident when he was a teenager, his soft brown eyes, lips, and even the mustache.

"I love you." She whispered, placing her hand on his cheek.

He smiled softly, leaning down towards her, eyes drifting to her lips. "I love you more than anything, sweetheart. I should get the "Proudest Husband Award" after tonight. We should def-"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am." He answered, bridging the already small gap between them as he connected their lips. Her hands moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Pulling away slightly, (y/n) smiled up at him and pecked his lips one more time before laying back down on his chest.

"Goodnight, Rooster." she cooed.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed her hair, whispering, "Goodnight, Jayhawk."

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x wife!reader #bradley bradshaw top gun #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun sequel #top gun fic #top gun imagine #rooster bradshaw x reaer #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fluff #mads' fandoms

[cha1cedony]

Grant Wilson (laser beam) (explosion) (landmine) (submarine missile) (sonic boom) (particle collision) (implosion) (machine gun) (nuclear meltdown) (chemical burn) (supernova) (naval mine) (solar flare) (another laser beam) (shock wave) (cannon fire) (explosion) (explosion) (REALLY BIG explosion)

#inexplicably found this in my drafts #?????????? hello?? #is this the quality content y’all followed me for…. #wow. so flattered #(/j) #chalcy stuff #grant wilson #<- only tagging this because.. silly

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

New Rules

Part 1 of You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader, Past! Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You feel adrift and lost when your relationship with Bradley Bradshaw crashes and burns around your ears. As quickly as your relationship ended, you're not expecting to find something new as fast as you have. And especially not with Jake Seresin.

Disclaimer: Female!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, Cursing, Sex, Sexual Themes

The content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting taglist requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story. I do my best to portray adult relationships in this fic. Please do not interact with this story if you feel you are not ready to read about these themes.

Word Count: 5191 

A/N: Without further ado, here is the first installment of the You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes Universe. I hope you all like it! This is going to be a relatively short three-part story which I've been calling the Before, During and After verse.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist | Next Part

Rain collects in pools on the metal deck in front of you, droplets skittering into the night. It's quiet, only you, the clouds of your breath, and the drumming of fat droplets as they spatter on the metal deck. The deck roils under you, rising and falling without rhyme or reason in the undulating waves. It’s storming where you are in the Pacific Ocean, not that you can place precisely what longitude and latitude the colossal naval carrier you’re perched on is at.

But you’re miles away from everything that hurt you and even further from everything you love. You’re officially alone. You might as well be a paper boat in a tempest, at the mercy of the sea. But, as lonely as you are, those feelings are the last on your mind. Your mind is hundreds of miles away, wrapped in the sun, the sand, and a calmer, sunnier sea, trapped in a dream that turned into a nightmare. You get jolted back into yourself when an arm nudges you, and a body sinks down next to you on the cold decking.

"Heya, Bitsie." He's amused. He's always so amused, southern drawl stretching every word, including the pet name he persists on calling you by. "Whatcha doin' out here? I don't know if you noticed, but it's cold and rainin'."

"I noticed." Your voice is dull. Two weeks since you've been on dry land. You feel like a stranger trapped in a body you don't know, with a face you barely recognize in the mirror. The first morning on the carrier, you'd nearly screamed at the sight, seeing your eyes in a face you couldn't, wouldn't recognize. It shows in your actions, too, you know. It feels like your authentic self has retreated like someone is playing at controlling your body like a video game character.

"Oh! I know what it is. You miss your Chicken, dontcha? I bet you wish you were huddled up under his wing right now. Well, if that's all, you should head inside and call ole' Roostie. I'm sure he'd jump for joy at hearing your voice and seeing your face."

Hearing someone say your boyfriend's callsign, even a teasing nickname for it, shouldn't fill you with dread, seeping as cold as ice through your veins. If only he was still your boyfriend.

"He's not my anything, Bagman." Your voice is barely audible over the thunder of rain across the deck. You're not even sure he can hear you over the din.

"What happened?" His voice is more subdued than you've ever heard it. 

A flash of lightning rips through the sky, glinting off two pairs of shiny boots as they're stretched side by side next to each other. But you're spiraling, pulled into the undertow of everything that happened. The joy and pain of your latest failed relationship crash over you in unyielding waves as if you're adrift in the middle of the storm.

The dead-eye laser Lieutenant Miguel 'Fanboy' Garcia had encountered had nearly jeopardized the entirety of the Uranium mission. The Uranium mission would have failed without a stroke of near-divine luck. Everyone, from Admirals to the Secretary of the Navy, had decided unilaterally that something like that could not happen again. So you and your team, composed of mechanical engineers and computer scientists alike, had been shipped to Naval Air Station North Island to work with the squadron who’d run the Uranium Mission and improve the lasers, their targeting systems, and their software. 

That was when you’d met Bradley Bradshaw, callsign Rooster for the first time. It was like you were in a fairy tale. A perfect ray of light had shone over his head, illuminating strands of his hair golden. You felt a breeze brush over your hot cheeks and heard bird songs. The two of you had just clicked. It was easy, talking to him, hanging out, flirting. You nearly hadn't believed it when he’d asked you out for the first time. Bradley Bradshaw? Wanting to go out on a date with you? Obviously, you had said yes.

It had been a whirlwind romance. Bradley was precisely what you had thought you wanted in a man. He was sweet and charming. He never ignored what you were saying and was your partner in every sense of the word. The sex? That was dynamite, too. You’d be the first to openly admit you weren’t sexually experienced. But Bradley had never once made you feel less in your relationship. He’d swept you off your feet, starting with your first date and then every day since. You’d gushed to your family on the East Coast about how much you loved him and thought he was the one.

Sure, maybe two months into a new relationship, your only adult one was too soon to be making those overtures, but you fell and fell hard. It sometimes felt like you had been skydiving; he was the only parachute in sight. You'd consoled yourself that at least he'd fallen for you, too. And at least with Bradley, you'd never have to explain why you were leaving on a mission or a deployment. He'd understand it, just as you would when it was his turn.

While your relationship with Bradley changed and evolved and deepened, you'd also come to enjoy working with the other pilots and WSOs on the squadron. Bob, Fanboy, Halo, and Harvard were all brilliant and helpful in pinpointing exactly where the lasers seemed to fail. Their pilots were great, too. Other than Rooster, you weren't quite as close with the other single-seater F-18 pilots.

Hangman, in particular, had been intent on rubbing you the wrong way. His laugh, his demeanor, everything about him had set you off. From the very first day, he'd been calling you Itsie Bitsie or Bits or something like it. And he'd never told you why either, no matter how much you pestered him. You'd given up after a while. He didn't mean it maliciously, and it pissed him off more if you ignored him.

It helped, too, that Rooster had pulled you aside one afternoon when Hangman was being particularly dickish, kissed you until your knees were weak, and whispered in your ear, "Don't worry about him, lovely. He's just trying to get your attention or get you in trouble. I've got your back. Whatever you need to do to get him to stop, I'll help. But, if you're a good girl and can withstand him when we get home tonight, I'll let you sit on my face until you scream and then fuck you until you're all filled up with my cum." That was the end of that conversation, and as your panties flooded, you'd quickly forgotten about Hangman.

As your team and the Daggers blended and became cohesive, all those personality clashes also eased. Hangman was great to work with when he wasn't acting like a dick, and you always laughed when talking to him. And well, you're only human. You liked the look in Bradley's eyes when Hangman made you laugh. He made you feel wanted when he looked at you like that. You could've sworn that he knew you would only ever go home with him.

The sex was incredibly intense when you'd been polite with Hangman, just enough to send Bradley's jealousy skyrocketing. One incident involving a screwdriver and you in mechanics overalls resulted in fogged windows on a scenic overpass just off base. That afternoon had been especially memorable since base police had rapped on the back window of the Bronco and gotten an eyeful. You had escaped with just a warning, thankfully.

Things changed going into the sixth month of your relationship, your eighth overall in Miramar. Bradley would act the same at work but habitually ignored you when you were at the Hard Deck. He was usually clingy and sweet, always keeping an arm around your waist or kissing your skin. The sudden distance, physical and emotional, had been jarring. By then, your team and his squadron were close friends, decompressing at the bar over copious amounts of alcohol, laughter, and inside jokes. Then there were the nights you’d made plans, and he’d stood you up, calling hours later with plausible excuses. In hindsight, you never should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt. 

In your defense, things had been crazy with the announcement from Admirals Simpson, Mitchell, and Bates of a six-month mission testing out the new software for one pilot, one weapons system officer, and two members of your team, one with mechanical engineering expertise and the other software. The competition had ticked up, and tensions were high, at least for the aviators. The Pentagon selected who would go on the mission from your team and gave the names to the admirals. The Admirals kept the names close to the vest until they selected their pilot candidates. You'd chalked Bradley's exhaustion, frustration, and general downturn in mood to the pressures of being selected as the pilot for the mission. 

If only you'd known the actual reason. 

The Admirals announced the team on Friday afternoon, dismissing everyone afterward. You'd been selected as the software engineer, and one of your closest friends, Mara, was the mechanical engineer selected. Your team had cheered you both excitedly before the admirals called everyone back to order and announced the pilot going on the mission. You'd smiled reassuringly at Bradley, keeping your fingers crossed against your side in a silent plea for him to be selected.

"The pilot on this mission is Hangman. The WSO, Fanboy." 

The words had rung out with a sickening finality. Your head had swiveled so fast to look at Bradley that you'd nearly given yourself whiplash. But no matter how you'd craned your neck, you couldn't find him. You’d battled through the celebrations and raced out to the parking lot, only to see exhaust plumes pouring from the Bronco as he drove away. You texted him, offering to come by his house off-base for combination victory sex for you and conciliatory sex for him and to talk about how your relationship would last while you were in the middle of the ocean for half a year. But he left you on read, and you'd assumed he wanted to lick his wounds in solitude. So you'd left it alone that night. 

You'd messaged him on Saturday, wanting to make the most of any time you had left before you were trapped on an aircraft carrier with only Hangman, Fanboy, and Mara for company. He hadn't responded to those messages either. That had been when you'd started worrying. You'd talked yourself off the ledge of calling the police half a dozen times, imagining scenarios where he'd gotten injured or was drunk and then been injured. Or… or… or. You were half afraid he would think you were overly clingy if you'd called him. You'd slept uneasily that night, worrying about your boyfriend's health. Incommunicado wasn't his thing.

When you woke up the following day, you decided to go to his house. You had second-guessed your decision until 11 o'clock, not wanting to wake him after he'd been so tense for so many weeks. Bradley never slept well when he was stressed about something.

Everything looked alright as you pulled into the driveway behind the blue Bronco that was his pride and joy. He'd given you a spare key a couple of months into your relationship with an open invitation to join him in the house he'd inherited after his mom had passed away. He’d told you with a sheepish, sad, soft smile that it was too big a house for one person. It was an offer you'd taken advantage of before in your relationship, albeit after calling first. As you unlocked the door and stepped in, you'd rationalized that Bradley would be safe and sound if nastily hungover in his bed at the very moment.

The foyer was the same as it always had been, except for the stupidly sparkly and tall high heels sprawled across the floor. Bradley had always been a friendly guy. One of his friends probably crashed at his place. You'd felt for the poor girl looking at the shoes she'd been wearing the night before.

But if he had company, the house would be full of the smells of breakfast and coffee, with his favorite eighties playlist blaring from the kitchen. The house was absolutely silent as you trod up the stairs. You didn’t want to disturb him. You resolved to leave a note if he were sleeping. That resolve had fallen flat when you'd heard the breathy moans that spilled through the open bedroom door. 

Your heart had cracked a little, then the denial set in. Maybe he'd been watching porn? It had been a weak excuse, even in your own head. You had crept forward breathlessly, and that's when your heart shattered into a thousand tiny shards. Shards that had cut into the softness of you. Shards that were still lodged in your chest. He was home, but you doubted the girl bouncing on his cock was a friend. She was gorgeous, with her head thrown back and perky tits jolting with each movement. She was thin and blonde, waspish, her hair long and dangling down her back as he grasped at the silken strands. 

"Yeah, baby, come on, just like that." His voice was a hissed whisper, sweat dripping down his face as he mouthed at her skin, at her flushed pink nipples.

"Oh! BRADLEY!" She'd simpered and screamed, "Bet I give it better to you than your girlfriend ever can. Come on, baby! Oh! Oh! Oh! You give it to me so good. You’re so big!"

"God, yes! She's such a goody two shoes, Britney!" 

The sound of flesh smacking wetly echoed through the room.

“She’d never even been fucked. Did you know that?” His curls were sweat-matted and falling into his eyes. It had been her hand that brushed them away. She’d laughed then, as something sick had pooled in your stomach.

“I had to teach her everything. I can’t believe I took a bet so far!”

Bradley had growled about how much he hated you, that a couple hundred bucks weren't worth six months playing pretend, and you couldn't stand there to hear anymore. If you were a bolder woman, you'd have burst in there and broken up with him on the spot. But instead, you'd driven away as fast as you could.

You'd broken up with Bradley Bradshaw in the parking lot of an In-n-Out hours later over a text message, passed along your affections to Britney, and called her a whore and him an asshole. In a genuinely vindictive turn, you’d told Bradley that Carole would’ve hated the man he grew up to be and then blocked his number.

"Bitsie! Hey, Bits!" Bagman sounds worried. "Are you back with me?"

You loll your head exhaustively to look into Hangman's sage-green eyes. He looks just as worried as he sounds.

"You're crying."

You lift your hand, touch your cheeks, and stare without comprehending at your tear-stained fingertips.

"What happened, Bitsie? You're usually as sunny as can be!"

"Sometimes," You choke out, "the sun gets hidden by a storm, and paper boats get ripped to shreds by the pounding waves."

He tugs you against his chest until your head is pressed over his heart. His hands rub your back, and that's when you let your pain and frustration out. You know it's probably not right, crying in his arms, but you can't help it. He's one of the only friends, or as close as you have to friends, on this miniature floating Naval city, and he somehow feels like home. What feels like hours later, you finally sit back, letting your hand thwap solidly against the metal you’d been resting against. But you don’t hear the sound or feel the harsh sting. A hand gently cradles your head instead.

“I’m okay, Seresin.” Your voice is all stuffy, your head fogged with the pressure in your sinuses after a good cry. It doesn’t feel right to call him by his callsign or the bastardization of it, not when you’ve just sobbed unflinchingly in his arms. 

“If this is okay, darlin’, I don’t want to know what fantastic looks like.” He’s speaking so gently with you right now, proffering one of those typical mom pocket packs of tissues at you. Your smile is tremulous when you accept the tissue, turning your head away from him to honk into the feeble gauzy square like an elephant with rhinitis. You’re sure you look a sight when you turn back, eyes swollen and puffy, with the tip of your nose irritated like always when you’ve been crying and had to blow your nose. He’s still looking at you exactly how he was earlier, though, like a baby bird with a broken wing. Like you're some tiny precious thing that's injured and needs protection.

“You’ve cried now and done your best impression of a circus elephant.” You can’t help your watery giggle when he tweaks the tip of your nose.

“Do you want to tell me what’s happening with you and Bradshaw now?” 

“I don’t know if I can.” Your voice is whisper-thin, and your vocal cords feel like you've gargled glass. "It hurts too much."

"I know, darlin'. I can see it in your face. Wouldn't it be nice to tell someone if it hurts badly? To share that burden?" He's trying to wheedle the information out of you. And you can feel your resolve wavering. But, in the months after the Uranium Mission, Jake and Bradley had become something akin to friends. They had set aside all of the rivalries they'd had before, and while they ragged on each other, it was friendly. Could you destroy that relationship so quickly?

"Jake. You and Bradley just got to a good place. I don't want to change your relationship with him."

"Darlin’, tell me. Remember, we're on a carrier far away from him for the next six months, give or take a couple of weeks." He's smiling softly at you. "I promise I won't punch him in the face when I see him next for whatever he did."

"How can you assume it was something he did?" You ask, tired of seeing all of your faults in technicolor. You don’t argue with him, though, childishly curling your fingers into your palm, leaving only your pinky out. "Pinky-swear on it."

He blinks his eyes at you a few times before twining your pinky with his own. After pumping it twice, like kids on a playground, he just holds your hand captive. 

"There's your pinky promise, darlin’. You asked me why I could assume it was something he did?" He inhales deeply, chewing on his words before he continues. "I know because I've seen how you are when you're in love with someone. They're your whole focus when you're with them. While you were on Chicken's arm, he was all you focused on. I won’t say he consumed you because you paid attention to all of us. But there was something special about how you acted with him. When we were at the Hard Deck for drinks after work, it was like he was your True North. You always knew exactly where he was. You gave all of yourself to that relationship. He's the guy who leered happily at any piece of ass that walked by."

What does it say about you that someone with a reputation for being self-absorbed saw what you couldn't? You chuckle dryly before letting the whole tale spill, every salacious detail, including what Britney and Bradley had been saying about you in the bedroom. Your words finally run out as you stare at the clouds, tracing the lightning bolts as they zip through the ether. When you turn to look at him sometime after the last words have left your lips, he's glaring at the roiling sea off the deck. His jaw is clenched as the lightning makes his eyes shine golden. 

"He dated you because of a bet? And then he cheated?" He sounds angry, angry, and shocked. "He's supposed to be the most decent guy in the squadron. I promise you, I didn't know about the bet. If he made it, it wasn't with me."

"Did he ever bring her around to you guys?" Did you know? You're not sure if you want to know. But you have to. How many of your friends, your colleagues, had seen Bradley Bradshaw make a mockery of you? Condoned his cheating and lying? Had they covered for him? Had Jake? Who made money on you and him?

"Darlin, I would've told you the minute I had known if he had brought her around. We all would have." His eyes seem so sincere and soft as he looks at you. You can see pity on his face. You know it is. But it feels so good. To have a shoulder to cry on, to have someone tell you you're valid for feeling the way you do. 

"Her name seems familiar, though. I think she's one of the badge bunnies that always goes crazy when he plays the piano."

You have to laugh at that. The resulting sound is something insane choked out between sobs. Six months of a relationship and your complete devotion, love, care, and affection, not to mention your virginity, and he picked a badge bunny over you? 

"I'm sorry, darlin'. He's a fool. C'mon." He's standing before you now, blocking the brunt of the pouring rain from drenching you. "It's wet," he wheedles, wiggling his fingers until you place your hand in his, "let's get you inside. A hot shower, something to eat and drink, and a good night's sleep. That's what you need right now. I'll help you think of what to do about Bradshaw tomorrow, ok?"

You let him drag you up and usher you through the deserted carrier hallways, stopping to shield you from prying eyes with his broad back at every intersection. You can only assume what the rumor mill onboard will say if anyone sees the two of you like this. His uniform is colored caramel, rain soaking every inch, and his boots squelch unpleasantly as he walks you to your quarters. He waits, eagle-eyed, at the door to your quarters until you let yourself in.

"Go shower, sweetheart. I'll do the same and bring you some food from the commissary."

"I thought it would have closed by now?" You ask, your voice pitched low since you know from experience that everything echoes in the belly of the ship.

"The Officer's Lounge never is. I have granola bars in my quarters. I'll bring you a few and a cup of coffee. Cream, no sugar, yeah?"

He smiles at you before turning on his heel and striding away. You go about your shower by rote but spend much longer than usual under the hot water. It's all quiet when you step out and dress in the warmest sweats and sweatshirt you've packed in your luggage.

When you open it, you're not expecting anything in front of your door, but there they are. A single hot paper cup of coffee, prepared just as you like it, and two granola bars, the good kind, with chocolate! You eat and drink quickly, feeling hungry and thirsty after your cathartic release. Sleep tugs at you, and the last thing on your mind is that while Jake Seresin may not look like it, he is a sweetheart on the inside.

You wake up the following morning feeling like the night before is a glorified dream. Did you really cry all over Jake Seresin the night before? On deck in the middle of a typhoon, no less? You feel good, really good. Bradley’s betrayal still hurts, but not as much as the night before. You’ve learned so much about yourself; as much as you miss him, you can admit that he is not forever material.

You’re finally starting to see the sun through the clouds mentally, and from what you can see out the portholes, it’s a beautiful day outside. You dress quickly in your uniform and meet Mara for breakfast in the commissary. Your morning is spent far away from the pilots, making final adjustments to the laser targeting system. It's lunchtime before you see Jake again. He's got a ridiculously cocky smile on his face and a pep in his step. 

"Hey, ladies." He's oozing charm as he sits beside you, setting his tray next to yours. This afternoon's flight tests are going to be interesting. He looks like he’s in the mood to fly more recklessly than usual.

"How has your morning been?" 

“Great! Mara and I finally have the laser targeting system ready for the first flight tests this afternoon.” 

You can see the excitement in his eyes at the thought of flying and flying fast too. Mickey, who'd been following along behind his pilot for the mission, takes the seat next to Mara, and for a few minutes, it is just light-hearted chatter amongst the four of you as you talk about the test flight route and air conditions for the first test of the new systems. It's Jake, of course, who shatters the veneer of professionalism by slipping you a piece of paper. Scrawled on it in surprisingly neat cursive are four numbered points.

Don't pick up the phone. You know he's only calling when he's drunk and alone.

Don't let him in. You'll have to kick him out again.

Don't be his friend. You're only going to wake up in his bed in the morning.

If you're under him, you ain't getting over him.

You can't believe your own eyes. Do you laugh? Or do you cry? Jake Seresin just handed you a piece of paper quoting Dua Lipa's New Rules. Laughter ultimately wins out.

"Oh, my god." You've got your hand over your mouth, choking back laughter. Mickey grabs the paper from you, and it's only a few minutes before all three of you are laughing as Jake's cheeks redden with a blush. You take the note back and get yourself under control, using a napkin to blot the tears from under your eyes.

"What's this, Seresin?" You smile at him gently, knowing he meant well, and wasn't trying to make fun of you. He sheepishly runs his fingers through his hair.

"I called my sister and asked what she would do if she was in your shoes. She cursed me out for waking her up at 4 in the morning, laughed her ass off until her husband kicked her out of their bed, and then gave me that list. She said you'd probably know the song, but it was good advice." 

You goggle at him, surprised at the vehement emotion in his voice. You don't notice you've been staring into his eyes until Mickey clears his throat from across the table. Mara and Mickey are smirking at you, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks at the knowing looks they’re giving you.

"Why're you giving her the rules from New Rules, Hangman?" You can hear the confusion in Mickey’s voice.

Jake glances at you, looking for your permission. Instead of letting him tell them what happened, you speak.

"Payback will probably email you about it sooner than later, so here it is. I broke up with Bradley the day we shipped out." You take a deep breath before you spill the rest of the story, albeit without the graphic details you'd told Jake in the middle of the night. Mickey looks disgusted, as does Mara.

Mickey broaches the topic first. "You haven't been yourself since we came on board. Hangman noticed and pulled the whole story out of you, didn't he?" You nod carefully, taken aback at the anger growing on both their faces. 

"I didn't know." Mickey's vehement in his denial. 

"I know, Micks. Jake told me that any of the Daggers would've told me if Britney had been sniffing around and they knew he was cheating."

"Yeah, we would have." He inhales forcefully. "Wait. Britney?!"

You nod, sure you'll never forget the sound of that girl's name pouring out of your boyfriend's mouth as he pleasured her like he was only supposed to pleasure you.

"Shit. I did meet her. He told me she was his cousin from San Francisco. She was supposedly in San Diego for a couple of weeks on vacation. Phoenix backed him up about the lie. She told me she'd met Britney when she and Rooster were in Pensacola for flight training together."

You're aching to sock Bradley in the jaw now. Jake is, too. You can see it in how he’s clenching his hands tight, knuckles growing pale with force. You’ve come to terms with Bradley's betrayal, at least a little. Natasha's betrayal, though? That cuts deep. She was your friend, you'd thought.

As expected of the military, there aren't many women on Naval Air Bases. You, Callie, Callie's wife Meg, Mara, and Natasha had connected fast, taking turns hosting girl's nights and spa weekends. You'd thought the five of you had each other's backs in the man's world you all worked in. Natasha obviously thought differently. 

"Let us help you plan your revenge, yeah? We have six months on a ship to brainstorm ways to make him pay. And that list, it just might be the perfect starting point." Mara's got a devious look in her eyes that promises pain for Bradley Bradshaw.

"I'll brief Callie and Meg on the situation, too, with your permission. Meg will think of the perfect way for Trace to get her just desserts, too." At your nod and a weak smile,  the four of you go on your way. The flight tests will involve all of your concentration, so you put the issue of Bradley Bradshaw in the back of your mind.

When the boys are up in the plane, and the two of you are analyzing all of the data from the instruments connected to the targeting system a couple of hours later, Mara asks you a question in sotto voce.

"Hey. I know it's probably too soon for this, but Seresin's always looked at you differently from other girls flocking to those flyboys when they're in uniform. When the time comes, and you're ready to move on, promise me you'll give him a chance? I don't think the Southern Gentleman thing is an act. He also pulled you out of your funk sooner than anyone else could have."

She's right. Jake had made you feel miles better; he'd let you cry and helped you smile afterward. He'd be so easy to love if your heart weren’t as tender as it is now. You vow then and there to keep yourself from falling for Jake fast and hard. That way means disaster, you know as much after recent experiences. You'd take this burgeoning something brewing between you slowly, if only for the sake of your heart.

Taglist

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#star writes #star screaming about top gun #you play stupid games you win stupid prizes #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #past bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #past bradley bradshaw x reader #past rooster x reader #cheating #angst #anger #fighting #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #rooster is a dick #part 1 #new rules

[deusvervewrites]

Apprentices: Since this AU has no traitor, is Aoyama Quirkless, or was he born with Navel Laser, making it's backlash much less severe?

I pictured Naval Laser as his Quirk still, so you're correct that he'd have less backlash

#asks #apprentices au

[usafphantom2]

AC-130 Gunship’s Laser Weapon Cancelled, 105mm Howitzer May Be Removed

The AC-130J was set to get the first operational airborne laser weapon, but that plan is over as the gunship changes to ensure its relevance.

Joseph TrevithickPUBLISHED Mar 19, 2024 1:56 PM EDT

The US Air Force no longer plans to flight test a laser directed energy weapon on an AC-130J Ghostrider gunship.

USAF

The U.S. Air Force has scrapped plans to flight test an AC-130J Ghostrider gunship armed with a laser directed energy weapon after years of delays. The Airborne High Energy Laser program for the AC-130J had for a time looked set to become the U.S. military's first operational aerial laser directed weapon. This all also comes amid a review of the AC-130J's current and future planned capabilities, which could see the gunships lose their 105mm howitzers, as part of a broader shift away from counter-insurgency operations to planning for a high-end fight.

Air Force Special Operations Command (AFSOC) confirmed that there are no longer plans to test the prototype Airborne High Energy Laser (AHEL) system on an AC-130J and provided other details about the current state of the program to The War Zone earlier today.

"After accomplishing significant end-to-end high power operation in an open-air ground test, the AHEL solid state laser system experienced technical challenges," an AFSOC spokesperson said in a statement. "These challenges delayed integration onto [the] designated AC-130J Block 20 aircraft past the available integration and flight test window."

One past US Air Force rendering of an AC-130 with a laser directed energy weapon. USAF

The original hope was flight testing of an AC-130J with the AHEL system would take place sometime in the 2021 Fiscal Year, but this schedule was repeatedly pushed back. In November 2023, AFSOC told The War Zone that a laser-armed Ghostrider was set to take to the skies in January of this year, something that clearly did not occur.

Lockheed Martin received the initial contract in 2019 to supply the AHEL's laser source for the system and lead the effort to integrate the system onto an AC-130J. The complete AHEL system also includes a beam director and other components.

A now-dated US Special Operations Command briefing slide discussing the AHEL program and the components of the weapon system itself. SOCOM

"As a result, the program was re-focused on ground testing to improve operations and reliability to posture for a successful hand off for use by other agencies," the statement added.

This is all further confirmed by the Pentagon's 2025 Fiscal Year budget request, which was rolled out last week, and does not ask for any new funding for AHEL. Official budget documents say this is because the program is expected to close out in the 2024 Fiscal Year.

What "other agencies" might now be in line to benefit from the AHEL program's work and the exact status of the 60-kilowatt class laser directed energy weapon system developed under the program are unclear. AFSOC directed further questions to U.S. Special Operations Command, which The War Zone has now reached out to for more information.

The U.S. Navy's Naval Surface Warfare Center Dahlgren Division (NSWC Dahlgren) had already been deeply involved in the AHEL program. The Navy has been very active in the development and fielding of various types of shipboard directed energy weapons, including another 60-kilowatt class laser directed energy weapon called the High-Energy Laser with Integrated Optical Dazzler and Surveillance, or HELIOS. Lockheed Martin is also the prime contractor for that system.

The US Navy's Arleigh Burke class destroyer USS Preble pierside in San Diego in July 2022. The ship's HELIOS directed energy weapon system can be seen on a platform immediately in front of the main superstructure. USN

The U.S. Army and U.S. Marine Corps have also been working to develop and field different types of air and ground-based directed energy weapons.

The Air Force has been working on at least one other aerial laser directed energy weapon in recent years, under the Air Force Research Laboratory's (AFRL) Self-protect High Energy Laser Demonstrator (SHiELD) program. The SHiELD effort was centered around a podded system for tactical jets ostensibly intended to help defend against incoming missiles, though it would have the ability to engage other target sets. In the past, the stated goal was to begin flight testing of the SHiELD pod in 2025, but its current status is unclear.

A rendering of a US Air Force F-16C Viper fighter with a podded laser directed energy weapon. Lockheed Martin

The Air Force is pursuing other directed energy weapon programs, including for base defense use on the ground. Additional work is understood to be going on in the classified realm, including efforts tied to the larger Next-Generation Air Dominance (NGAD) initiative.

For the Air Force's current fleet of 30 AC-130Js, the end of the AHEL program comes amid larger questions about the future of Ghostrider's armament package and other current and future capabilities. There are growing signs that the Ghostriders are set to lose their 105mm howitzers as part of this reassessment of the aircraft's capabilities.

"Initiate engineering analysis and development to remove the aft weapon system (105mm Gun), refit the aft section, and optimize crew workload in support of the United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM) crew reduction initiatives," is the plan for the AC-130Js in the 2024 Fiscal Year, according to the Pentagon's latest budget request. The War Zone has reached out to AFSOC for further clarification.

The Air Force originally planned not to include a 105mm howitzer in the armament package for the AC-130J, which was originally focused more on the employment of precision-guided missiles and bombs than guns at all. The service subsequently changed course and had more recently been in the process of integrating improved howitzers onto the Ghostriders. That work came to a halt last year after the start of the capability review. As of last November, only 17 of the 30 AC-130Js had gotten this upgrade.

AFSOC has been taking this new look at the Ghostrider's current and future planned capabilities in large part due to discussions about how AC-130Js might contribute to future high-end conflicts, especially one in the Pacific against China. AC-130Js, which are today primarily tasked with providing very close support to special operations forces on the ground, currently operate almost exclusively in permissive and semi-permissive environments and at night.

AHEL has been presented in the past as being ideally suited to supporting lower-intensity counter-insurgency-type missions.

"Without the slightest bang, whoosh, thump, explosion, or even aircraft engine hum, four key targets [an electrical transformer, the engine of a pick-up truck, communication equipment, and a parked drone,] are permanently disabled," now-retired Lt. Gen. Brad Webb, then head of AFSOC, said in a 2017 interview with National Defense magazine, describing a notional mission for a laser-armed AC-130. "The enemy has no communications, no escape vehicle, no electrical power, and no retaliatory intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance capability. Minutes later, the team emerges from the compound, terrorist mastermind in hand. A successful raid."

In line with all this, the Air Force is also looking to add a new active electronically-scanned array (AESA) radar to these gunships, "allowing the platform to detect, target, identify, and engage across a spectrum of threats at longer ranges and react with greater precision," according to Pentagon budget documents. You can read more about the benefits of adding an AESA to the AC-130J here.

Other specialized C-130 variants belonging to AFSOC have been heavily involved in the testing of a palletized weapon system called Rapid Dragon. Rapid Dragon offers a way to readily transform existing cargo aircraft into launch platforms for AGM-158 Joint Air-to-Surface Standoff Missile (JASSM) cruise missiles and other stand-off munitions. SOCOM has previously expressed interest in the past in integrating precision-guided munitions with longer reach onto the AC-130, in part to help keep those aircraft away from increasingly capable enemy air defenses. A return to a focus on precision-guided munition employment when it comes to the Ghostriders could be important for ensuring their continued operational relevance.

Altogether, the exact mix of capabilities found on the AC-130Js looks set to significantly evolve in the near term. However, a laser directed energy weapon is no longer on the horizon for the Ghostriders.

Howard Altman contributed to this story.

Contact the author: [email protected]

@warzonewire via X

#ac130 specter #us air force #Youtube

[thewulf]

Take a Risk || Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Summary: You thought you knew how to handle the Top Gun boys. That was until Pete showed up rocking your world. Your simple life as a plane mechanic was coming to an abrupt halt once he entered your hangar.

A/N: Who doesn't love a good Top Gun 1986 Mav??

Pairing: Young Pete "Maverick"Mitchell x Y/N

Word Count: 6,700+

It was a sticky sweet summer morning on North Beach in Miramar, San Diego. Even with your hair tightly slicked back in a knotted bun you couldn’t stop the sweat from dripping down your back as you picked up a wrench from your toolbox. Cursing the Navy for making you wear such thick flight suits as a mechanic you subtly unzipped the top to get some air. You were wearing a tank top anyway.

You turned back to the F-14 you were working on as you read the paperwork on its issues. Lieutenant Pete Mitchell dropped it off yesterday complaining about a weird noise in the left engine when he banked right. You were pretty sure you knew what the problem was. A snapped bolt that seemed to be a common service problem on these planes.

Smiling to yourself when you found the cause of the planes problems you quickly drilled the bolt out replacing it with a larger sturdier one. You fired up the engine making sure that the bold didn’t interfere with anything. When you were satisfied with your work you hopped out of the cockpit and scribbled what you did on the paperwork. Making detailed notes about the sheered bolt.

However, what you didn’t like was the bent frame. Taking a few measurements, you frowned finding the entire wing bending at the wrong angle, a potential terminal angle. After making a few calls you found a repair solution, albeit a lengthy one.

“She’s a beauty isn’t she.” A booming voice took you out of the task you were laser focused on.

Pulling your body out of one of the turbines you snapped your head around spotting the culprit. A handsome, albeit likely cocky as hell, pilot eyed you as you turned towards him. Body still sitting in the turbine you eyed him curiously. It wasn’t often you got any visitors, let alone a pilot, all the way back in the maintenance hangar tucked in the corner of the air base.

“I’ve seen prettier.” Smiling as sweetly as you could you placed your hands on your lap continuing to observe him. You knew the type. Almost all of the naval aviators that came through Top Gun were more arrogant than any civilian man you’d ever meet. Often giving you shit for being their mechanic since you were a woman you opted to simply work in peace in the corner. Out of sight, out of mind.

Feigning hurt the pilot walked closer to you, “You wound me. That’s my pride and joy right there.”

“Try and treat her more kindly then.” Countering, you smirked at the man as you tapped on the inside of the turbine with your wrench, “Her frame is a little fucked.”

“You don’t break barriers if you don’t push them.” He winked clearly waiting on you to join him on the ground.

He was just the type. Rolling your eyes you turned back towards the engine, deciding to ignore him, “Not if you end up snapping it in the air.”

He laughed irking you even further, “You don’t know what I can do in the air.”

“Well,” You dropped the wrench again, the guy clearly wasn’t getting the hint, “I’m certain you can’t defeat physics.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Frustrated you simply ignored the arrogant pilot. You found it was the easiest way to deal with these personalities, simply ignore them and give them nothing.

For a brief moment you forgot he was beneath you as you refocused in on what you were working on. Grabbing your power tools, you unbolted a few panels that needed to be replaced, he had begun to warp the damn frame on the plane. It wasn’t often that you had come across this severe of warpage at a training facility. Sure, when you were working on carriers and planes were coming back from missions you would likely see this damage, when pilots were in life and death situations. Yet this yahoo was doing it at Top Gun.

You tossed the panels down as you normally would hearing the smack of the metal panel hitting the concrete.

“That’s a little loud.” You heard his annoying voice come from below you again.

“It is.” You agreed pulling out a few broken bolts.

“Do you mind?”

The audacity. The sheer audacity of this damn pilot coming into your home and asking you to change the way you do things, “I do.” You threw the last panel maybe a little too close to him.

Jumping back, he looked up at you a little shocked, “Snippy.” He smirked knowing he was getting you worked up after seeing your scowl.

It took everything in you not to jump off the turbine to tell him off. But you knew better, they always sided with their precious Top Gun pilots not the lowly technicians.

Stifling the huff, you wanted to let out you answered him, “Just trying to do my job.”

“And I can’t do mine until your done so.”

You weren’t sure why this stranger was working you up so much, but man was he sure good at it. You thought you knew how to handle these assholes, but he was special. A special asshole.

“And you standing here interrupting me every five minutes sure as hell won’t make it get done faster Lieutenant.”

“Mitchell.”

Rolling your eyes you continued, “Did I ask?”

“No.” He smiled, “But may I know yours?”

“Y/N.” Replying as shortly to him as you could you decided it was a failed effort to try and fix his plane right now. So, you hopped right of the turbine to your ladder meeting him on the ground.

“Well, that’s a pretty name.” He looked all to gleeful he got you out of your perch, your comfort zone.

Nodding you turned away from him to grab your water. It was already far too hot, and this man wasn’t making it any cooler. Rather the opposite. Wiping the glistening sweat from your forehead you set your bottle back down on your tool chest.

“You should tell my mom that then. She’s the one who named me.” You searched for a grinder as you needed to smooth down the edges of the panel inserts.

You heard him chuckle from behind, “Are you always so defensive?”

“Are you always so annoying?” Countering you smiled as kindly as you could muster. You knew you had to put him in his place now or he’d walk all over you.

His smile grew even more only infuriating you further. He seemed to like your attitude. He really seemed to like that you weren’t afraid to speak your mind.

“Afraid so Y/N.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat he made his way over to you as you scavenged your toolbox looking for that damn grinding wheel.

You jumped nearly ten feet in the air once you found it, turned around and he was suddenly inches in front of you, “Jesus Christ, you can’t do that.”

He leaned himself on the toolbox cocking his head to the side, “My actual name is Pete, not Jesus Christ. Flattering though.”

You were simply beside yourself now. This man wasn’t going to stop. He was clever though. You did have to give him that. Clever and quick. A rather menacing combination on top of an already cocky and arrogant attitude? This dude was already too much for you to handle.

“Well Pete.” You gave him the up and down, fully taking him in, “Either make yourself useful and throw me tools or kindly get the fuck out of my hangar.” Batting your eyelashes, you shoved the grinding wheel into his stomach taking him by surprise. You heard the grunt he gave as you shoved it into him. Smiling to yourself you made your way back over to the damaged F-14.

“Tool tosser it is.” He followed you like a puppy, sitting down on the bottom rung of the ladder you were using.

Not sure what came over you that moment you were already regretting your decision to let Pete hang out with you. You weren’t a total loner, but the nature of the job meant you were crawling into tiny, dark places that usually didn’t allow for a partner. So, you learned to love working with yourself. You were very good at it too. Quickly rising through the technician ranks you found yourself at Top Gun only three years into your Naval career.

“How’d you end up here?” He asked after he tossed you the grinding wheel.

You looked over your repair area before answering him, “I’m good at my job.”

“Ha ha.” He gave you a look, one that showed he was starting to get annoyed by your snarky responses.

“My dad and I worked on cars growing up. We restored a ’53 Corvette over a few years and I just kinda fell in love with it. Completely rebuilt the engine with a new V8 instead of the V6 it originally came with.” You answered him as honestly as you felt, giving him more information than you would’ve normally disposed.

“That’s hot as hell.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, the confidence was oozing out of this man.

“Jigsaw.” You opted to shut him down again.

“A jigsaw?” He looked a little flabbergasted as you requested your desired tools.

“Mhmm. Know what tool that is Pete?” Deciding to belittle him you threw that stupid smirk right back in his face.

His flabbergasted look turned to one of shock then realization at your statement then a smile formed across it. He certainly was expressive, “Yes, Y/N. I know what a jigsaw is.”

“Very good.” You clapped waiting for him to retrieve the tool.

“I’m just surprised you need it is all.” He rolled his eyes, returning the favor you so graciously gave him many times throughout the past hour that he had been bothering you.

Shrugging your shoulders, “I didn’t warp the crash bar so badly it needs an entirely new one Pete.”

Raising his eyebrows he turned to you, “Have you ever seen that?”

Groaning you gave him the finger. You felt oddly comfortable conversing with the cocky pilot. It’s not like you didn’t like the Top Gun pilots you saw come in and out of the base but that was just that. They came for a few weeks and then they were off doing crazy shit again. You made sure to have fun but to never get involved.

He snickered before turning around and finding the jigsaw quickly. He tossed it up to you before you responded, “But no Pete, I haven’t seen this one in a while.”

“Bummer. Thought I’d be the first.”

Shaking your head, you returned your focus back to the task at hand. Pulling down your safety visor you began to let it rip, careful not to cut through any electrical components within the aircraft. Sparks began flying earning a grin from your face. You just loved it. It gave you such a sense of pride in yourself that you could do it and you did it better than the other mechanics. You always got the toughest planes to work on.

Once finished you smoothed it out with the grinding wheel. Peeking over the ledge you noticed Pete was still there, leaning against the ladder even though it took you about ten minutes to cut through.

“Still here?” You barked breaking him away from his thoughts. His stupid little smile formed as he took you in now. You were sure you looked like hell. The sticky humidity had your hair matted down on your forehead and neck. Grease streaked across your chin and neck unbeknownst to you. Your flight suit was almost shimmied all the way off of your body leaving you only in your tank top, a major violation. But you couldn’t really care right now, it was too hot to care. You just opted to pray your direct leader didn’t waltz on in like Pete did.

“Like I said, can’t do much without her.” He pointed to the F-14, “And you seem like you just love my company.” He grinned knowing it would egg you on.

“Oh, I just adore it.” You waited for him to look this time before you dropped the crash bar down to him.

“So,” He paused waiting for you to look at him this time, “How are you going to fix her?”

Smiling you hopped back out of the turbine onto the ladder leveling up with him once your feet hit the concrete, “I’m going to go get another crash bar, machine it down to the measurements I took then I’m going to weld it back together. With some new panels she’ll be as good as new.”

Pete’s eyes nearly bugged out of its sockets. He found that insanely attractive. Not like what you were already doing wasn’t attractive but man there was something about a woman that could handle her own.

“There you are!” A third voice interrupted the bickering pair. A lanky blonde haired

“Goose! Meet Y/N.” He pointed to you, “She’s fixing our girl.” He grinned eyeing both you and the plane between glances.

“Hello.” You smiled awkwardly feeling slightly claustrophobic with so many people in your usual solo space.

“Ma’am.” He nodded his head before turning back to Pete.

“We’ve got to get to training.” He attempted to pull Pete by the arm, but the stubborn man refused to budge.

“Relax Goose. I’m a little busy.” He shook off his friend’s arm.

Shaking your head, you clearly disagreed with him, “No, he’s not.”

Pete pouted. Crossing his arms over his chest and all, “I was helping.”

“Key word was. Past tense. Get to training Lieutenant. I really don’t want to hear Viper bitching about something else in the break room.” You gave him a wink, throwing him a bone. You hate to admit it, but you really did enjoy his company. But you had to remember he’d only be here a few weeks. You can have fun, but never can you get attached.

Grinning ear to ear he bowed out, “If the lady commands.” He eyed you.

“She does.”

You heard Goose laugh softly waiting for Pete to leave with him. Pete didn’t drop that damn smirk that never seemed to leave his face, “Will I see you again Y/N?”

“You know where I work.” You left the invitation open for him to come back. The statement left your mouth so fast you didn’t even process it. Mentally cursing yourself it clicked you invited the nuisance back for more and you were sure he was going to be back.

Nodding his head, he eyed you up and down once more before turning away, “See you tomorrow Y/N!” He walked over to Goose ruffling his hair after hitting him on the back. Lord only knows what the two of them were talking about.

Pete kept true to his word and showed up just as you were finishing up on his plane. You were sitting in the cockpit flipping a few switches when you heard the man whistle from below.

“Damn, this might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” The brown-haired pilot smiled as he leaned on your toolbox, yet again.

“Yeah, yeah.” You laughed shutting the engine down, satisfied in your work, “Too bad I can’t fly the damn thing.” Nearly whispering you weren’t sure if Pete heard you as you walked down the ladder.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing you, “And what’s stopping you Y/N?”

The story was old as time now. You dreamed of being a pilot. Quite literally your whole life that’s all you wanted to be. Just like your dad. He was an Air Force pilot, and he was damn good at it. Your dreams were yanked right from you at the age of twelve when your family was in a pretty severe car accident blinding you in one eye completely. You were devastated when the doctors said they tried everything they could, your left eye would never see again.

Your pilot dreams ended that day, so you had to opt for the next best thing. Airplane mechanic. At least you’d get to work on them all day. Plus, your dad supported your dreams. He saw how sad you were after the incident, so he worked with you. The two of you rebuilt three classic cars by the time you turned eighteen. Your favorite being that first year Corvette.

“I’m blind in my left eye Pete.” You smirked waiting on his next comeback. Your smirk grew even further when you saw his eyes widen and his throat bob, seemingly stumping him.

“Well,” He ran his fingers through his hair clearly a little uncomfortable with the information you provided to him, “That’ll stop you.”

Erupting in laughter you weren’t expecting that response, “It sure did.” Grinning at the goofy man you looked back up at his plane, “And she’s as good as new.”

Pete looked between you and the plane chewing on his lip obviously contemplating something in his brain.

“Ever flown in one?”

“Nope.” You shook your head not really grasping what he was getting at.

“How about your first flight, today?”

Snapping your head back around Pete finally got you to pay attention to him, “Absolutely not.”

Frowning he stepped closer to you, “Why not?”

“Uhh, because I like my job?” Looking at him incredulously he was being dead ass serious. This pilot was seriously asking if you wanted to go up with him.

“Is it in the rule book?”

Pausing you thought long and hard trying to recall anything, “No?” Racking your brain, you really couldn’t recall a specific rule that forbade you to go up with the pilots. You’ve just never had the opportunity to. You knew your boss would flip a gasket if he knew what you did but it almost sounded enticing coming out of this near stranger’s mouth.

Sure, you’ve been in lots of cool military aircraft but never an F-14. Flying in one of those sounded like a pipe dream to you. But here was your chance. A cute aviator offering to take you up? Did you really want to pass up on one of your best opportunities to date?

He grinned, “You just need a helmet and then we can go on up.”

“Pete,” You paused trying to find the right words in your head, “I don’t think this is a great idea. Plus, I don’t have a helmet…”

Pete scoffed at you clearly not taking your excuses to heart, “You can borrow Goose’s. He keeps it clean anyway.”

“I don’t want to take something from him…”

He scoffed again, “He won’t mind. Where’s your telephone? Just need to ring him up to have him bring it over.”

“Pete…”

“What?” He took a good long look at your face finally realizing the slight discomfort he was putting on you, “It’ll be fine. Promise.” He squeezed your arm in comfort.

“I’ve just never been in trouble before and,”

“Even more of a reason to go. Take a risk. Live a little.” He placed his hands on your shoulders trying to level set you, “It’s just a little test flight.”

Licking your lips, you thought long and hard. Even if you did get caught Pete was right, it was just a test flight. Odds are your boss wouldn’t have a clue.

“Phone’s over there.” You pointed to the wall where it hung.

“Atta girl.” He ruffled the top of your hair ever so slightly before bounding off to the phone. You were still a bit taken aback by his domineering nature, still trying to get used to it. And the atta girl? That had you weak in your knees. Gripping your toolbox, you took a deep breath trying to recollect your bearings.

Pete walked back over, looking way to happy, “Goose is on the way!”

“Oh great.” You said as sarcastically as possible making your uneasiness of the situation very well known to the man. You wanted to. God, you wanted to. You’ve been waiting on this moment for as long as you could remember. But man were you nervous.

“Hey,” His smile dropped a little seeing you pace back and forth nervously, “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” He looked at you with a softness you had yet to see in the man.

Your arms were crossed as you ran your hands nervously up and down, “It’s not that. I just… I just don’t do things like this.” Admitting that to him was harder than you would’ve though. It was almost embarrassing to admit you were a little cowardly when it came to command. You hated getting in trouble. Your eyes almost always watered when you got reprimanded by the big bosses, them yelling in your face always seemed to get to you. Doing everything in your power to not get in trouble was your life motto,up until now. This decision was not going to keep you out of trouble.

“Always a time to start.” Pete grinned stopping close to you. Close enough that you got a nice big whiff of his cologne that sent your mind reeling almost instantly.

“I suppose.” You took a baby step back, feeling all too overwhelmed by his presence suddenly.

He reacted by taking a step closer to you, always seeming to push you out of your own comfort zone, “If you tie your hair back really tight and tuck it under your flight suit, they might even think it’s just Goose back there with me.”

Narrowing your eyes in on him you eyed him suspiciously. Was he being honest? Or was he simply fucking with you, “Really?”

Nodding his head, he inched just a step closer, really breaking down your personal boundary space, “It’s hard to see who’s really in the cockpit once the canopy is down. And you’ll be wearing his helmet. You can be Goose in our test flight.”

“Okay.” You gave him a genuine smile starting to feel slightly better about what you were going to do shortly.

“Oh Maverick!” Hearing a familiar voice both of you jumped out of the trance you were both in with each other. Goose walked in smirking like he just caught the two of you doing the deed right then and there. Walking up to the both of you he wiggled his eyebrows earning a backslap from Pete, “One clean and in perfect condition helmet for the lady.”

You took it from him gingerly observing the outside of it. Sure, you’ve picked up plenty of helmets but never a Top Gun Pilot’s one. These were made specifically for each pilot, hand painted and all, “Thank you Goose.” You smiled up at him.

“Anytime.” He threw you a wink, “Mav taking you up then?”

Nodding your head, you set the helmet down as gently as possible, “That’s the plan.” You laughed nervously feeling like this was a terrible idea now that it was happening.

“Here,” Pete walked over taking the helmet from the work bench, “I’m going to put this on you, okay?”

“Sure.” You felt your cheeks beginning to heat up feeling like a daft idiot. It should’ve been obvious, but you were too nervous you’d mess it up in front of the seasoned veterans.

He took it and slowly slid it over your head, making sure your earrings didn’t catch on any of the lining. Once it was fully seated, he grabbed a few straps tightening the helmet down to your smaller head size. The two of you were standing so close you felt his breath fan over the opening in your helmet onto your face. Your eyes took in his facial features as he was laser focused on getting the helmet to fit you properly.

You noticed the few freckles that had managed to pop out from his complexion. He had a few deeper wrinkles that you were sure were from the stress of his job. His focusing face was downright adorable as well with his lips pulling in one direction and his eyes scrunching just a bit.

He was a handsome man you had concluded. An arrogant one at that, handsome nonetheless. But you always had to remember the rule. You could have fun. You just couldn’t get attached. And this? Pete? He looked fun.

Goose let out a wolf-whistle as Pete stepped back examining his handy work, “She looks phenomenal!”

“Spectacular!” Pete chimed in.

“Stunning as ever!” Goose continued.

“A showstopper!”

“Okay!” You laughed nudging Pete’s side gently, “I get it.” You let out a small giggle beginning to feel more comfortable with the two pilots in front of you. They were nothing but best friends who loved to goof off. You didn’t need to be so intimidated by them.

“Now that you officially look the hottest you ever have, follow me.” Pete threw you a wink earning a hearty chuckle from his RIO. Goose was very used to Pete’s overly aggressive flirting. You however were not used to Pete’s flirting which sent your face from a pale white to a cherry red in almost an instant.

“Have fun up there Y/N.” Goose laughed taking a seat at your work bench.

“I will!” You threw him a thumbs up before following closely behind Pete, not wanting to miss any of his instruction.

“Up you go.” He grinned seeing your small figure in the big helmet.

Obliging you climbed up the internal ladder to the plane plopping yourself in the back seat. What you didn’t see was Pete ogling you from behind as your hips swayed moving you up the ladder. Once he snapped back into reality, he followed you up. Instead of climbing into his seat though he climbed right on top of you sending your brain right back into the tizzy it was in earlier. You were so thankful it wasn’t as hot today or you might just be a puddle on the ground.

You knew there wasn’t much room in the canopy. But when a man straddled you in the second seat you realized just how tight the space was. You were feeling overtly grateful the helmet covered up the majority of your cheeks or else Pete might’ve caught onto your feelings.

“What are you doing?” You asked faintly as he leaned forward bringing his chest so close to your head.

Smirking he grabbed something behind you and pulled back, “Buckling you in.”

“Oh.” Was all that came out. Of course, that’s all he was doing. He was just making sure you were safe and yet here you were thinking some rather unsavory thoughts.

He knocked you out of your own thoughts as he leaned back looking you up and down, “I lied earlier.”

“About what?” You gave him a confused look, stitching your eyebrows together.

“This has got to officially be the hottest you’ve ever looked.”

“Pete!” You laughed punching his arm lightly. He was a character that was for sure. One you really wanted to know more about.

Laughing with you he gave you a new smile, one that oozed with sweetness instead of cockiness, “You good?” He asked you one more time. You knew it was his one last check before taking this up with you.

Giving him a thumbs up and an eager nod you smiled right back at him, “I’m good.”

“Alright.” He nodded as he leaned down to grab a black tube, “This is your oxygen mask. I’m going to put it on you now so you can get a feel for it. You need to have this on whenever we aren’t just flying straight, it’ll help keep your brain filled with oxygen.”

Nodding you let him know you were paying attention to his every word, “If you take this off when I’m diving or climbing you will probably pass out. Got it?”

“Got it boss.” You threw him a thumbs up through the thick gloves you had on.

He snapped it into your mask after bringing your visor down, letting you get a full feel for the increased oxygen that began flowing through your body, “You might feel a little lightheaded at first. It’s a lot of Oxygen all at once.” He smiled as he watched you closely, making sure you were okay.

Taking a deep breath, you realized just how right he was. Feeling immediately lightheaded you took a second to ground yourself again. Blinking rapidly, you looked up at him. He was giving you the sweetest look now too. It might’ve took your breath away if the Oxygen hadn’t already. He was waiting on you to give him a signal that you were good, so you threw up another thumbs up.

After a moment he continued, “This is how you disconnect it.” He pressed a button on the side of the mask, and it popped right off, “Now, you have to have this on or close to your mouth if you want to communicate. All comms pass through this.”

“Rodger that.” You grinned as you started getting excited. You were really about to do this. You’d wanted to do this for forever it didn’t really feel real.

Clicking your oxygen mask back into place he waited for you to signal that you were good. Once you did he hopped to the front walking you through what he was doing. He explained the pre-flight checklist that he had to do every time. Goose helped as you had absolutely no idea what was going on.

“You ready?” Pete’s voice rang through your helmet causing you to jump slightly. This was certainly different. No way you could be a pilot if you had any ounce of claustrophobia.

“Born ready.” Giggling you took in all the sights of the runway around you.

It was crazy being in a taxiing plane. You’d been on those runways thousands if not millions of times, but you had never seen them like this.

“Canopy clear?” He asked waiting for you to respond.

“Clear!” Bouncing up and down you really couldn’t believe it now. Once the canopy locked into place you heard Pete chatting back and forth with the tower. Letting him know when he was cleared for flight. The adrenaline coursing through your body was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Once you heard all clear you sat back in your seat waiting on Pete.

“Taking off in 3… 2… 1.” He punched it sending you flying back into your seat. Eyes wide you watched your surroundings as this little plane took off effortlessly.

“Woah.” Was all you managed to get out once Pete level set the plane. The two of you simply flying in one direction.

“It’s something isn’t it.” He spoke. You could hear the adoration in his voice.

“Something is a word for it.” You couldn’t seem to stop looking around you

Pete looked into his mirror watching you take in everything. He stifled his laugh not wanting to interrupt your moment in the plane for the first time. He swore he could’ve watched you take everything in for the next six hours, but he had things to do. He had to stress the plane out a little. It was a test flight after all. He could’ve warned you, but he really wanted you to go so he opted to spare the details.

“Don’t kill me but…” He had to interrupt you. He was running out of military occupied air space. He didn’t have the authority to go into civilian air space just yet.

“What?” You snapped your attention forward suddenly feeling a little anxious about it all.

“Well, it is a test flight. Got to check your work out and all.”

“Okay…” You let him continue not one hundred percent sure what all his statement entailed.

“So, I’m going to dive and climb a few times and stress her out just a bit.”

“Cool!” Grinning, you felt that giddy feeling again, “Just don’t kill me!” Laughing Pete took that as his sign that you were all good and ready for whatever he had in store for you.

Your breath caught in your throat as he let it rip. A small ‘oh my god’ wanted to escape your lips but your brain wasn’t processing as fast as Pete was maneuvering. You took in a big breath of oxygen just as Pete began to climb. You felt like you were on a roller coaster again only this time with a big ass rock pressing against your chest.

This was insane, in the best way. You couldn’t believe pilots got to do this every single day. You also failed to understand how they did that and shot at enemies at the same time. It simply didn’t compute in your brain.

“You alright back there?” Pete’s voice interrupted you from your thoughts.

“Yes! More than alright.” You coughed slightly still trying to get used to the mask.

“Let’s have some fun then.”

And boy did he. You were flying upside down at one point. Pete said he had nearly perfected it at one point. You thought you’d be a little more frightened by it all, but you weren’t. You felt so utterly safe with Pete in the front fear never really crossed your mind.

“Over already?” You frowned seeing the plane descend towards the base.

“Afraid so.” Pete chuckled. He expected you to be a little more freaked than you were. You fully embraced the entire ordeal.

“Boo.”

Pete landed flawlessly, of course. He couldn’t take it back to your hangar instead taxing it back to its home hangar. The taxi back in was quiet between the two of you as he was getting direction from command. You clicked your oxygen mask off setting it down to the side. Your mind was so blown you couldn’t even think. That was perhaps the coolest thing you’ve ever done, and it wasn’t even close. You felt a little surge of jealousy that pilots got to do this every single day.

Once you parked Pete lifted the canopy before quickly unbuckling himself. He turned to you seeing your shell-shocked face. He tried to stop himself from laughing, he really did. But after seeing your expression he let out a hearty chuckle. Which, of course, resulted in you giggling with him.

After the two of you calmed down Pete again jumped over and straddled you, unbuckling you gently from the seat, “You like it?”

“Did I like it?” You repeated his question softly as you looked up to him. Trying to find the right words you finally responded after a moment, “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever done. I more than liked it. Thank you, Pete.”

“My pleasure gorgeous.” He reached down to undo your helmet, slowly sliding it off your head.

Your expression was fully exposed for him to take in now. Your current state was something Pete wanted to lock into his memory . Your previously slicked down hair had gotten messed up by the helmet and was sticking in every which direction. The apples of your cheeks were bright red with all the excitement you had experienced in the last twenty minutes.

The smile that came over your face was a sight he needed to etch in his memory. One of the most genuinely happy expressions he’s ever seen was what you were giving him. He could feel his heart rate pick up as he looked you over. His stomach in small knots as you looked to him.

“That was wow.” You were still searching for words.

He gave you his hand to take, “Right? It never gets old.”

Grabbing his hand he pulled you up, right into his chest, “Sorry.” Your eyes went wide as you attempted to back up, but your boot got caught on the seat sending you backwards.

Luckily Pete was quicker than you, grabbing onto your suit he saved you from toppling backwards in the cockpit, “Sorry!” You gasped wanting to hit yourself right on the forehead for making such a fool of yourself in front of him.

“It’s okay.” He smiled letting your flight suit go, “Are you okay?” He looked you over with concern.

“I’m fine.” Responding to him quickly, you prayed he’d just hop back over to his seat. He either understood that you were terribly flustered and wanted to keep messing with you or he was clueless to your emotions as ever. You had an inkling feeling he was messing with you.

Raising his eyebrows he did another scan over you, “Are you sure? Your face is a little flushed.” He pointed towards your cheeks.

You gulped deciding to let it all out, not sure how much more you could take, “I’m great. You’re just very close to me right now.” Your voice tapered off as you continued to talk to him.

Picking up what you were putting down Pete nodded, while smirking, and jumped back into the front seat. Taking a deep breath, you followed him down to the ground once he turned everything off. What the hell was wrong with you? You’d been working here for a few years and had yet to get so caught up in an aviator so quickly. Let alone one of the cockiest ones you met. But his confidence drew you into him. You couldn’t believe you were finding him as attractive as you were in that moment, he was the annoying pilot that wouldn’t leave you alone yesterday and now? Now… you were doomed. That quickly. A sinking feeling of dread coursed through your body as you realized you would likely not be following your very own rule.

Handing your helmet off to Pete he again raked his eyes over your figure. Surly he wouldn’t be so brazen about it? Yet he was. Unashamed to check you out like he was it sent another blush right to your cheeks. Exposing you yet again.

Biting your lip, you decided to observe what he was doing. Silently you walked up, standing beside him observing the notes he was taking.

“You can’t do that.” He muttered eyeing you from his peripherals.

“What?” Cocking your head to the side you feared you probably looked like a Golden Retriever in that moment.

He let a breath of air out before turning to you while pointing at his lips, “Bite your lip like that.”

“And why not?” Crossing your arms over your chest you decided to play this one up. Leaning towards him you through your mouth into a pout as you batted your eyelashes as dramatically as possible.

Throwing his head back in laughter you couldn’t help but to check him out now. Eyes moving up and down his body you were caught when you looked back up, staring right at you, “Would you like to go up in the plane again?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Well, hell yeah I would.” Your eyes lit up looking back towards the F-14. You’d go up in the plane everyday if you could.

Smiling he bobbed his head, “Don’t do that then.”

“That’s not fair Mavvvverick.” Drawing out his callsign you knew you exactly what you were doing. Driving him insane.

“Life’s not fair Y/N.” He continued grinning finishing up whatever he was writing.

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from him. He was good. You’d give them that. It was usually way too easy to get exactly what you want when you want from these men, “Okay, dad.”

“Oof.” He placed a hand on your shoulder spinning you around back to face him. Not realizing what he was doing until it was already done you looked at him incredulously.

“What was that for?”

Taking a step closer, way too close for your brain to handle, he leaned down whispering into your ear, “I’ll tell you what. Meet me here tomorrow at 7. We need another test flight.”

“What? You don’t have faith in my repairs?” Throwing him back a wink you waited for his response as the gears started turning in his head.

“I’ve got all the faith in the world.”

The perma-smile that laced your face for the last hour had yet to diminish, “7 it is. See you later Pete.”

“You sure will.” He watched longingly as you waved him off and walked back to your hangar.

#pete mitchell #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x y/n #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #maverick x y/n #maverick x you #maverick x oc #maverick

[quirkwizard]

I’ve always wondered whether or not Monoma would burn himself too if he copied Dabi’s power. Dabi burns himself because his body isn’t compatible with his quirk right? Do you think that’d carryover when Copied?

So I think that it depends on the Quirk Monoma is copying. Because when it comes to Quirks having certain defects like that, it depends on whether or not it's the Quirk or the user. Let's take "Navel Laser" as an example. It was said that Aoyama's body wasn't suited for the Quirk, not that there was an issue with the Quirk itself. So if Monoma copied it over, it likely wouldn't have the same issues with the lasers leaking or the excessive strain of the Quirk that plagued Aoyama. "Cremation" is different. As far as we are aware, the fact that Dabi is burned by his own fire is a result of the Quirk and not of his specific body, with the Quirk itself failing to provide the proper protections for him. Meaning that if Monoma copied it, he wouldn't be protected from it either, suffering the same burns that Toya did. Then again, it may not be as bad since the more powerful blue flames were the result of Dabi's strong emotions. It could be little burns instead of total immolation.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Monoma Neito #Copy #Dabi #Cremation #Aoyama Yuuga #Naval Laser #MHA Meta #MHA Theory

[shxugx]

my theory academia

also known as “what i wrote in my notes app to explain my mha theories to my wife, who knows the bare minimum of mha lore”

* manga spoilers ahead *

SO i begin with Red Shoe TheoryTM

Red Shoe Theory is basically the idea that Izuku’s trademark red shoes are a specific brand made for quirkless people.

The doctor in episode one explains that quirkless people are biologically different than quirked people. one of the differences is they have a second toe joint in their toes. a very specific and odd thing to include, but go off i guess

then we see izuku’s ugly ass (affectionate) red shoes. he wears the same damn shoes since he was a kid to literally current day. no one else in the series has this type of shoe and he wears them with everything.

theory is basically bc of the toe joint, they have to wear specific shoes to accommodate.

now: this is kinda a dumb theory by itself. however, i lied when i said only one character in the series wears them.

there is two.

introducing the Shigaraki was Quirkless theory.

HandJob McGee is the only other character that wears these red ass shoes. but they’re not just red. they’re fucking identical to izuku’s. again, not super compelling at first.

until you take in account the UA traitor, Aoyama Yuuga.

he was quirkless. his parents, rich and stupid, asked AFO to give him a quirk. he gives him Naval Laser and now basically has his family enslaved and forces him to be the traitor.

something odd about aoyama’s quirk (besides that is fucking stupid) is that it hurts him. not in a “worked out too much” way but in a “can barely use it” way. he gets better with training but he can barely handle using it for a few seconds without being in pain and he is RELIANT on support gear, something people with quirks are taught not to rely on as it is a handicap in case their gear is destroyed. he has no choice and has to wear it because otherwise the fuckin bitch leaks n shit

there are two other characters who’s quirks hurt them like this. izuku and his liquified bones, who we also know was quirkless

and shiggy.

all the characters we have seen that have toxic quirks have a natural immunity or defense against it to protect them (IE: kacchan and fire, mina and acid etc)

however, shigaraki is literally flaking away. we also know that he was originally Tenko shimura and had black hair and black eyes. now tho, he has white hair and red eyes and his skin is so dry he scratches constantly.

his quirk is decay.

his body is slowly decaying itself as a reaction to the quirk because it’s not supposed to be there. he’s basically turning albino.

now. this i feel like is too obvious to not be canon but *shrugs*

AFO manipulated and groomed baby Tenko bc he’s a petty ass bitch

AFO forced decay onto bb tenko, causing him to accidentally kill his family, and be the one to find him after to “save him”, and it was planned every step of the way.

So this is easier just to go in order of tragic events.

Yoichi Shigaraki, first user of One for All, brother of All For One, so obviously All For One is a shigaraki.

Nana Shimura. Seventh user of one for all and All Might’s beloved mentor.

All Might, who is still alive and who AFO hates.

Nana Shimura. Also known as Tenko Shimura’s grandmother.

now.

nana is dead. bc afo fucking killed her.

all might is not dead and is proving to be afo’s biggest asshole to date.

all might continues to be heartbroken about nana’s death to current day. it’s no secret how important she was to him.

afo, an immortal petty bitch, thinks hmm how can i make all might suffer the most.

oh i know.

finds her quirkless grandson and says “hey lil boy i can give you a quirk! :D”

tenko, 4 and stupid, “omg really!! :D”

afo, *gives tenko a super fucking destructive quirk*

*sends him home*

(note: he could have also have it to him without tenko knowing it happened idk. the details are flexible but the main point it the important thing here)

tenko, fucking accidentally kills his entire family bc how was he supposed to know better.

afo, is immortal and rich so has people watching to make sure no one gets close to the boy and he swoops in to “save him”

proceeds to groom him and traumatize him by making him wear his fucking dead family’s hands on his body to constantly remind him he is a killer and evil and afo will be the only one to be kind and care about him

afo brainwashes tenko into forgetting what happened and who he used to be (through grooming, gaslighting, etc) and now he only knows himself as tomura shigaraki.

plans to make him basically the successor to afo and be what kills one for all/ all might is sick poetic fuckery of all might being killed by his mentors grandson.

(also adds a reason as to why nana is the only female user. to show that she is important to the story beyond just being a past user/mentor)

now this next theory has less of a hold bc of lack of evidence but i personally head canon it to be true.

Dad for One

basically. midoriya izuku’s dad, midoriya hisashi is actually AFO.

he left when izuku was diagnosed as quirkless which could be considered hypocritical considering he sought out tenko but i think afo is a dramatic bitch and wanted to fuck with all might but ALSO

tenko is older than izuku by at least a few years, so he would have already had that plan in motion and may have stuck around just to see if izuku developed a quirk worth stealing or not and decided he wasn’t worth it. or could have also just not been able to get away with using him bc of inko and the bakugous. or a little of all that idk. (i GUESS it’s possible that he also actually did care about izuku and didn’t want to hurt him but i meeeannnnn idk man i wasn’t there)

BUT BESIDES THAT

* horikoshi has confirmed that izuku’s dad would be revealed before the end of the series and we kinda don’t have many options left here (at least i saw something that said that at one point, could be bs but STILL his dad is one of the last mysteries of the show)

* afo’s fuckin face is destroyed so we can’t see any resemblance BUT Yoichi looks INCREDIBLY similar to izuku

* it honestly makes the story super fucking interesting?? like izuku is the son of afo, born quirkless, given the quirk one for all by all might, all might basically becomes dad might, and izuku is the one to take his father down with the help of the previous users (including his uncle yoichi) in an incredible poetic justice loose end tying satisfying ass ending

i also wanna add that the Dabi is Touya Todoroki theory being canon gives credibility that this story has a thing for the family drama plot line and why wouldn’t they use it in the main characters storyline?

in conclusion, i held my wife hostage for a solid hour and a half to explain these to her, not dissimilar to this meme;

and i wanted to share it bc i worked too hard on it to just delete the note lmfao

#mha #mha theory #dad for one #red shoe theory #my wife had to suffer through my rambling so i figured i should post it so others suffer with her #mha manga spoilers #mha spoilers

[tomorrowusa]

Britain has been developing a laser air defense system called DragonFire. Originally it hadn't been scheduled for deployment until 2027 but the war in Ukraine may offer the UK an opportunity to test its capabilities by seeing how well DragonFire takes out Russian drones fired at Ukraine.

The DragonFire weapon, which is expected to be in service by 2027 at the latest, can hit a target the size of a £1 coin from a kilometre away. Reforms aimed at speeding up procurement mean that DragonFire will now be operational five years earlier than planned. Defence Secretary Grant Shapps travelled down to the Porton Down military research base in Salisbury in an attempt to speed development up even further "in order for Ukrainians perhaps to get their hands on it". "I've come down to speed up the production of the DragonFire laser system because I think given that there's two big conflicts on, one sea-based, one in Europe, this could have huge ramifications to have a weapon capable particularly of taking down drones," Mr Shapps told journalists. "And so what I want to do is speed up what would usually be a very lengthy development procurement process, possibly up to ten years, based on my conversations this morning, to a much shorter timeframe to get it deployed, potentially on ships, incoming drones, and potentially on land. "Again, incoming drones, but it doesn't take much imagination see how that could be helpful in Ukraine for example." Laser-directed energy weapons can strike at the speed of light, using an intense light beam to cut through their target. They are a lower-cost alternative to using missiles to strike down drones, costing only about £10 per shot.

You can't argue with cheap, fast, and accurate. Ukrainians are quick learners, highly motivated, and amazing innovators. DragonFire and Ukraine would be a great match.

The new procurement model, which comes into effect this week, is aimed at speeding up the process of getting cutting-edge developments in military capability like DragonFire out on to the field. "It's designed to not wait until we have this at 99.9% perfection before it goes into the field, but get it to sort of 70% and then get it out there and then... develop it from there," Mr Shapps said. Asked whether the system might be ready earlier than 2027, he said: "Because I'm here, I've taken the opportunity to arrange additional conversations with colleagues about whether we could speed it up even faster, very much using the integrated procurement model of saying there's a war on - let's say that it didn't have to be 100% perfect in order for Ukrainians perhaps to get their hands on it, can we do any better - but 2027 is still the date as of this moment. "But of course I'll look to see what we can do to speed up."

Ukraine may be the equivalent of a beta tester for DragonFire. Experience in Ukraine would be used for improvements to the weapons system.

So far, laser defense systems are being developed particularly in connection with naval uses. Here's a vid from late 2021 which outlines the potential uses for and challenges to use of such systems.

It makes me grin to recall that the High Valyrian word for DragonFire is Dracarys.

#invasion of ukraine #stand with ukraine #russian drones #air defense #laser weapons #dragonfire #uk #porton down #grant shapps #odin #helios #russia's war of aggression #ukraine aid now #агрессивная война россии #лазерное оружия #бпла #сбиты российские дроны #владимир путин #добей путина #путин хуйло #руки прочь от украины! #геть з україни #україна переможе #деокупація #слава україні! #героям слава! #Youtube

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

One Captain's Daughter (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / OC (Amara Blackwood-Mitchell)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Light Angst, Daddy Issues, Arguing, Complicated Family and Relationship Dynamics; Referenced Past Relationship; Romantic Longing; Female OC from Third Person POV

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: It's the first day of training on base and Amara really needs a glass of wine. Rooster tries to talk to her about the past.

Part 1

Master List

Amara arrived early to base the next morning, wanting to make sure that she made a good impression with Cyclone. Because there was no way in hell that her father was. Amara hadn’t seen him that morning, but she was quite sure that he was lurking and ready to strike like he always was with some kind of ridiculous show.

She walked with Warlock towards the empty hangar for the initial briefing. Amara never really understood why they couldn’t simply clean out one of the extra office spaces or conference rooms in a building so that people didn’t have to yell over the planes, but that wasn’t her department.

“Maverick didn’t inform you of his training plans, did he?” Warlock asked Amara, who shook her head.

“No, sir. He doesn’t tell anyone his plans. That would allow them too much time to think,” Amara replied back as her heels clicked distinctly on the pavement. “Or perhaps, too much time to try and stop him.” She paused briefly, sending Warlock a small, apologetic smile. “I did try to tell him to be on his best behavior.”

“I’m sure that Cyclone would appreciate that.”

“For the three seconds that it will last,” Amara murmured knowingly.

She stood to the side next to Hondo, who offered her a pleasant nod in greeting. As Warlock addressed the naval aviators, Amara glanced over the twelve of them. She silently connected faces to names to stats to reports, running through the possible simulations in her head. But when her gaze fell on Bradley, he was already staring at her.

His soft brown eyes were wide with shock and it took a significant amount of control on Amara’s part to regulate her breathing in that moment. Even though they left things off on a bad note the last time, she was still silently drawn to him. And he appeared to be just as drawn to her, if the subtle part to his lips meant anything.

Warlock’s mention of her callsign caused the two of them to break the eye contact.

“Honda was sent here by the Pentagon to make sure that this mission fits within greater US policy in the region. Although she is a military contractor and not an answer, you owe her your respect, unless you want to be answering to the Pentagon.”

Amara nodded in recognition, but did not move to speak. She could feel a number of the aviators turning to look at her. Some it was a quick glance, just to familiarize themselves with her face and move on to the more important details. Though there appeared to be about two aviators that intended to burn her with their laser focus.

One she knew was warranted. Rooster had every right to look surprised to see her standing there in the same hangar. She’d at least had a heads up that he was going to be there, which was a courtesy that was not extended to him.

The other she knew was trouble. She assumed that Hangman recognized her from the bar yesterday because she wouldn’t exactly categorize his gaze as leering. At least the main adjective, anyways, since he seemed like the type to have lingering eyes. But he was also calculating, analytical. Trying to fit her into the puzzle that was this mission.

And if Rooster didn’t look away soon, Hangman was going to connect the pieces there.

“Honda will be here for the duration of our training exercises and will be reporting back to the Pentagon on such matters. So, I would be on your best behavior in front of her for your own sakes,” Warlock added, mostly as a warning to the aviators.

Amara turned when she heard her father’s boots on the ground. She quietly prayed that he managed to not piss off Cyclone or Bradley or anyone for however long the rest of this briefing was supposed to last. But her prayers went unanswered as soon as he dropped the book into the trashcan. Literally. Amara checked her watch.

Two minutes. Maverick lasted two minutes before falling back into old habits.

“And we’re off,” Hondo murmured. 

~~~~~

Amara sat in the ready room and set up her laptop in the corner.

Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy were up first for the dogfight exercise, and something told her that her dad was going to do something . . . well, Maverick-y. She glanced around the room as the other naval aviators lounged about, observing their interactions.

Because her honest job description was naval aviator babysitter/school counselor. 

“Good morning, aviators! This is your captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighting maneuvers,” Maverick’s voice filtered in through the radio. “As briefed, today’s exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5000 feet.”

Oh, how the tables turned, Amara mused to herself. Ice would have something to say about that.

“Working as a team, you have to shoot me down, or else.”

“Or else what, sir?” Payback asked, and Amara swore that she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Or else I shoot back. If I shoot either one of you down, you both lose.”

“This guy needs an ego check,” Hangman scoffed, causing Amara to glance over at him.

Pot calling the kettle black if she’d ever seen it before.

“Yeah, we’ll see to that!”

Note: cocky naval aviators a few minutes before they get their asses handed to them.

“Sir, what say we put some skin in the game?”

“What do you have in mind?” Maverick questioned, playing along.

“Whoever gets shot down first has to do two hundred pushups,” Payback offered up, causing Amara to shake her head.

Note: naval aviators’ arms at risk of falling off due to running mouths.

“Guys,” Rooster warned over the radio. He was probably the only person aware of what they were getting themselves into with a bet like that.

“That’s a lot of pushups.”

“Well, they don’t call it an exercise for nothing, sir,” Fanboy joked, backing up his pilot.

“You got yourselves a deal, gentlemen. Fight’s on, let’s turn and burn.”

The distressed curses that flew out over the radio a few seconds later had Amara shaking her head. To get to this level, the naval aviators had to be self-assured of their abilities. But sometimes it was nice to see or hear someone bring them back down to earth. Even just for a few seconds. 

The dogfight exercises went on with Amara taking notes, and silently congratulating herself when she correctly guessed who was going to be out first. She tried to simply keep her head down and focus on her work—that was why she was dragged out here in the first place—but she could feel plenty of eyes on her. And the loud scrape of a chair caused her to look up.

And there he was—Mr. Blond, Green-Eyed, Jackass from Texas Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Just her luck.

“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” Amara asked, returning her gaze to her laptop.

“I’m just curious is all,” Hangman drawled, slipping into the seat across from her. “How a lady like you wound up working here for the Pentagon.”

“Is that supposed to be a flattering statement or an insult, Lieutenant?”

“Just making an observation. Like you seem to be,” Hangman continued, leaning forward slightly.

“Making observations is part of my job.”

“Of course, but you seem to be making all the right ones,” Hangman replied, standing up from his seat and walking around the table. Amara followed him with an unimpressed expression before going back to her notes. “Like right here. You wrote that you expected Phoenix and Bob to get shot down first, and you were right.”

“Is there a point to your statement?” Amara asked, sounding bored.

“Simply that you’re very good at what you do, Honda.” He leaned a bit on the table, causing Amara to purse her lips together. “What’s your secret?”

“My secret?” Amara asked, assuming he was referring to her callsign.

“How you’re so good at guessing who’s going to be shot down first,” Hangman translated.

“It’s not a matter of guessing so much as plugging variables into an equation. I do my research, make a hypothesis, which is then tested in the air. Nothing complicated about it, Lieutenant.”  

“And what does your research tell you about me?” Hangman asked her.

He glanced down at the name on one of the files out on the desk—Amara “Honda” Blackwood—and made a mental note of it. He would be checking that later.

“Let’s just say you live up to your callsign, Lieutenant,” Amara stated stiffly.

It wasn’t a compliment, though she knew that he’d take it that way.

“Well, I’m never one to leave a lady disappointed in my performance,” Hangman replied coyly.

“Hangman,” Rooster barked angrily from the couch.

Hangman turned and shot a smirk in Rooster’s direction, who glared straight into his soul. Amara simply rolled her eyes and went back to work, not in the mood for a testosterone display or a measuring contest. That wasn’t her job to deal with that bullshit.

“You’re up.”

“Shame. I was just starting to have a little fun.” Hangman stood up to his full height and turned back to Amara. “I do hope that we have more time to talk later, Honda.”

“Perhaps when you’re done with your two hundred pushups, Lieutenant,” she quipped, not sparing him a glance.

Phoenix and Bob had already headed out while Hangman slowly sauntered away. Amara rolled her eyes and went back to her typing, shaking her head. But when the door shut, she found her eyes meeting Rooster’s again.

The anger and frustration behind his eyes that was directed at Hangman quickly melted away and that same longing and nostalgic look that he sent her back in the hangar returned. And Amara was sure that her gaze wasn’t far off of that one.

They both looked like they wanted to say something but the sound of the door opening again made the eye contact break.

Payback and Fanboy entered the room, talking about tactics for the next run. Rooster quickly got sucked into the conversation and Amara focused on her notes as the radio crackled to life once more. It was a reminder that they were both there to do a job. Not to rehash old shit.

And while Amara did want to talk to Rooster, it was just better for them to stay separate in a professional setting. After all, her very existence was testament to the fact that fraternization between civilian contractors and naval aviators wasn’t without its consequences.

~~~~~

All Amara did was walk up to the control tower for five minutes. That was all she did.

But between the time that she left the ready room and the time that she arrived at the control tower, someone had decided—wrongly, very wrongly—to pair Rooster and Hangman up for the last dogfight exercise of the day. Against Maverick.  

What could possibly go wrong?

She felt like she should have just started the paperwork for an incident report, just in case the inevitable occurred. Especially, because Hangman just had to try and poke the bear. Or rather the rooster, but either way he was looking to get his head bit off about it. But then Maverick was there to interrupt the conversation.

“Just get the exercise done,” Amara silently prayed as she watched the monitors, typing away. “Please just get the exercise done.”

But she knew, in the back of her mind, that would never happen. Because there were three naval aviators in the air with egos bigger than the size of their cockpits and an incessant need to prove a point to the other naval aviators up there with them.

She paused, trying to remember if she bought cheap wine the night before. Either way, she was going to need some when she got home.

“Mitchell and Bradshaw have dropped below the hard deck!” one of the technicians called out.

Cyclone and Warlock turned around, with Cyclone striding across the room like he was ready to send a very strongly worded email to Ice about every little mistake Maverick did today. Warlock approached the monitor slower with a knowing look in his eye.

“How far below the hard deck are they now?” Cyclone demanded gruffly.

“About 500 feet now, sir, but they’re still rapidly dropping.”

“Pull up, dumbasses,” Amara muttered under her breath.

She stood up, watching as two planes—carrying two idiots who, although they were idiots, were still very near and dear to her heart—spiral towards the ground on the monitor.

“Pull up.”

 “They’re still dropping,” Warlock commented grimly.

Amara watched the graphics on the screen with her notes completely forgotten. She didn’t even realize that she had walked up to the bigger monitor with her arms wrapped around herself.

4000 feet.

Her eyes watched the two red dots helix towards the ground in a death spiral, completely ignoring the commands in their ears and warnings that were undoubtedly showing up on their dashes. Her nails dug into her arms as she watched them fall farther towards the ground.

3000 feet.

“Pull up, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered to herself.

2000 feet.

A dip below the hard deck would result in a loss in the exercise and a stern scold and reminder about it before the incident was inevitable pushed aside for the bigger issue.

But Rooster and Maverick were past that point. Death spiraling. At top speed. With no signs of stopping.

“Pull up,” she repeated as a lump forming in her throat.

1000 feet.

“Pull up! Pull up!”

Amara flinched as she heard both Maverick and Rooster gasping for breath through the comms. But a quick glance at the monitor informed her that they luckily hadn’t crashed into the ground and were instead flying along the valley. Rooster was chasing after Maverick, who seemed to have pulled out of the death spiral first.

“Fucking idiots,” she cursed quietly, rubbing the side of her face anxiously.

If anyone else in the room heard her, they didn’t comment on it.

“You got him, now drop down and take a shot!” Hangman shouted over the comms. Amara glanced up to see that Hangman was still hovering above the hard deck, trailing behind Rooster and Maverick from a safer altitude.

“It’s too low!” Rooster argued back.

“Too late, had your chance,” Maverick replied, causing Amara to sigh. And only a few seconds later, the auditory kill noise—Rooster’s—echoed from the comms. “That’s a kill.”

“Dammit!” Rooster snapped.

“Same old Rooster,” Hangman taunted, a chuckle on the edge of his lips.

Amara let out a breath that she wasn’t aware that she was still holding as she returned to her seat. Quietly putting her head down, she went back to work, wanting to avoid Cyclone’s hissy fit as he collected the readings from the last run. No doubt that her father would be getting a scolding about that last maneuver.

Though she didn’t write it down, Amara made a mental note to herself—Don’t put people who can’t talk about their problems in a healthy manner up in flying death traps together.

Fucking hell, she needed a drink.

~~~~~

Amara walked out to her car, eager to get out of her heels and have that drink.

Cyclone, as she expected, was not thrilled about the whole situation, and she assumed that Maverick had an ass-chewing waiting for him in his debrief. But Warlock had assured her that she wasn’t needed for that and dismissed her. He probably took pity on her. And though Amara was typically annoyed with that set up, today she was thankful for it.

But as she turned down another lane of cars in the parking lot, Amara paused when she spotted Rooster walking towards her. She stutter-stepped to a slight halt while Rooster looked like his shoes just spontaneously melted into the ground.

So much for a quick getaway.

“Hey,” Amara called out softly, adjusting her hold on her bag.

“Hey,” Rooster returned in the same tone.

They stood silently in the parking lot, as if they had both spontaneously forgotten how to interact with another human being in the last five seconds.

“How’re your arms?” Amara asked awkwardly.

“My . . . arms?” Rooster repeated, looking confused.

“From all the pushups.”

“Oh . . . right.”

“Right,” Amara echoed, nodding in confirmation.

“I . . .” Rooster began, causing Amara to straighten up a bit. Hope that she would later scold herself for bloomed in her gaze before promptly dying off when Rooster continued with, “I didn’t think that you would be here.”

“Oh . . . yeah.” She looked down at the ground, clearing her throat. “But, uh, I just go where the Pentagon sends me,” Amara replied, shrugging her shoulders as she met his gaze again. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just . . .” Rooster fumbled for an answer, clearly struggling, “. . . didn’t expect you to be here.”

“You said that already,” Amara reminded him, causing Rooster’s cheeks to go pink.

“Right.”

“Right,” Amara murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her best efforts. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one who seemed a little uneasy in this situation. “I suppose that I probably should have given you a heads up that I was in town.”

“No, no, it’s . . . you don’t owe me anything. And everything with you tends to be classified anyways.”

“. . . Yeah,” Amara agreed, shifting her weight on her feet. “Look, can we . . . I’d rather . . . can we just put all of our personal shit to the side?” Amara sighed, meeting his gaze again. “There’s enough shit going on right now and I’d rather just get the job done and done right. Can we agree on that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Rooster replied immediately.

“Good,” Amara breathed out, nodding slowly. She glanced over at her car before turning back to Rooster. “Have a good afternoon, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

Amara started for her car as Rooster blinked, frowning at her formality and cut and run tactics.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” Rooster repeated back, clearly a bit taken aback and even a little hurt.

“Would you prefer me to call you Rooster?” Amara asked, pausing in her quick escape.

Amara did not share a fondness for the use of callsigns outside of work. Sure, it was part of the field and a rite of passage and very important to aviators, but honestly, all it reminded Amara was the fact that naval aviators never took themselves out of the field, out of the cockpit. They were always naval aviators first and everything else second.

Which made her the only person to call Rooster ‘Bradley’ in the last decade or so.

“Are you mad at me?” Rooster asked her, causing Amara to pause.

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?” Rooster questioned, sounding exasperated.

“Bradley,” Amara stressed. She looked around to see if anyone else was lingering in the parking lot. “What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe just answer the question that I already asked you,” Rooster suggested, as if it were obvious. “Are you mad at me?”

“A little, alright?” Amara conceded. “You happy?”

“No, I’m—” Rooster cut himself off with a sigh, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry about how I handled everything back then.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Amara interjected, holding up a hand. “I’m not going to have that kind of conversation here where anyone could hear us and where we’re supposed to be professionals in our shared workplace.”

“I’m trying to apologize.”

“And I don’t want to hear it right now, okay?” Amara replied, sending him a look to stop talking. “If you want to talk about what happened, then we can talk, but not here. I’m not having that kind of conversation in the base parking lot that our coworkers walk through.”

“Are you free tonight then?” Rooster suggested, trying to salvage the conversation.

“I’m meeting up with my dad tonight.”

She watched Rooster go through the five stages of grief before his gaze hardened like it always did when her dad was brought up. It was just another reminder of why her and Bradley were not a good mix, a safe bet, or a winning idea. There was too much history, and not enough happiness to drown out the pain apparently.

“Tomorrow?” she offered him.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed softly.

“Until tomorrow then . . . Bradley.”

Amara turned around again and headed towards her parked car. Rooster watched her go for a moment before his eyes flicked up to see Hangman staring at them with a curious stare. At Hangman’s presence, Rooster suddenly understood why Amara wanted to flee the scene and moved to do the same. 

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #rooster fanfic #rooster top gun #top gun rooster #rooster bradshaw #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #tgm

[magnetarbeam]

I'm too tired to really be capable of coherence, but my ideas about the TCW-based fighter pilot drama fic - I've called it Jedi Ace so far - aren't very coherent yet anyway, so I feel like I can infodump about that.

This is meant to be about a whole squadron of pilots, which is twelve, but I want the most focus of those to be on Ahsoka and the troopers Kickback and Swoop, the only survivors of her fuckup at Ryloth. I've seen one or two fics that have her apologize to them after it, and I think in all of them they forgave her for it for reasons that revolve around that she was a kid forced into a command position with no choice and no training. Here, I want to acknowledge, in some capacity of substance, that there was more to it than that.

Yeah, it was Ahsoka not knowing what she was doing, but it was also her not thinking things out because her outstanding (for her age) skills at stuff like lightsaber combat had gone to her head and she assumed she'd be able to do this too.

(For what it's worth, I wouldn't be too surprised to learn that Filoni thought she would have been able to take out a Lucrehulk with just the lasers on her Delta-7B, but in this case that ignorance is actually useful.)

And of course, Ahsoka also constantly feels the need to prove to her Master that she's good enough for him, so he doesn't decide to give her back after all, which she failed to do here.

The first thing I really need to do here is come up with actual characters for Kickback and Swoop, but I have a hard time imagining them both forgiving her instantly in this. Part of it depends on how much time actually passed between the two assaults on the blockade forces over Ryloth. If it was, like, a couple days, there could be time for some emotional processing.

(My Legends-supremacist attitudes are gonna bleed through a bit here because I'm using the books' description of Ryloth, and also completely rewriting the second assault to neutralize the bullshit about Ahsoka having come up witn the Marg Sabl, which itself is discussed in a completely fucking different context in the books.)

In any event, I want them to have forgiven her enough to fly with her again by the turn of the second year of the war. The setup for how she finds out about their Force-sensitivity is a battle I'm not gonna go into full detail about, but I'm using a generous dose of Canon-Typical Inaccurate Astrophysics by having it take place in the Roche system (I have no idea what side, if, any, the Verpines actually took in that war, but I like it as setup here, so I'm not gonna change it unless I specifically find out that they weren't loyal) when fleet elements working with the 501st and 327th are reprovisioning after retreating from Felucia for the fuckteenth time. For this battle, Kickback has to be transferred out of Ahsoka's squadron (which at that point is her Delta-7B and eleven of the weird clone spinoff models of the Z-95) and put in charge of twenty-three shinies in BTL-B Y-Wings. For tactical reasons, the fighters are limited to communications of a sufficiently low power to only reach the distances of a single squadron's formation.

Here, I've chosen to reference one of the few bits of IRL naval history I actually know, which is the Battle of Midway, and how (at least the way it was told to me) it was basically just dumb luck that the one guy's bomber squadron showed up to the Japanese fleet at exactly the same time that all the Zeros were going after the other guy's bomber squadron.

This time, however, the "dumb luck" of their two squadrons coordinating their attack perfectly, without comms, makes Ahsoka suspicious because she knows just as well as any other Jedi what that can be a sign of. After she investigates, she finds that Kickback and Swoop are both not only Force-sensitive, but have already formed a bond through which they're unconsciously coordinating in combat.

A few months later, the first operational squadron of the new Eta-2 Actis interceptors are delivered to the Resolute. These are not only faster than the preceding Delta-series interceptors, but they're also intended for mass production and use by clones and regular natborn pilots in addition to Jedi, who can strip out a bunch of sensor and targeting systems and cut mass to make them even faster, and they have to rely on the Force to make up for the ship's own capabilities that were stripped out. Ahsoka is inspired by this, and the sensitivity of two of her pilots, to conceive an idea that she presents to Anakin and Yularen: A full squadron of the new interceptors, all stripped down to Jedi specs, and flown by Ahsoka herself and eleven clones with the necessary ability and training to coordinate in combat through the Force.

Yularen and Anakin have their doubts about whether it'll work, especially since finding that many clone troopers with Force ability, let alone training them, is going to take weeks. (If I was not constrained by the timescale of the entire war, it would be a lot longer.)

Nevertheless, Anakin agrees to put the word out among the other battalions(/legions/what-the-fuck-ever) asking for more troopers that are suspected or confirmed as Force-sensitive, and in the meantime Ahsoka works on more training for Kickback and Swoop as the start of the idea.

That's about my attention span for now.

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars legends #ahsoka tano #clone troopers #501st legion #force sensitive clones #force sensitive clone troopers

[bootleg-nessie]

#r/196 #r/196archive #196 #/r/196 #rule