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@brdshwed
# 𝐁𝐑𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐖𝐄𝐃 : an independent, literate and low-activity portrayal of bradley 'rooster' bradshaw from the movie top gun: maverick. flown by chi, she/her. 18+. minors dni.
rules and bio are currently under construction. for now, here's the carrd from my multimuse blog. the same rules and policies apply here as well.
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since im in an a.nimal c.rossing brainrot and i can't write while im at work, here's some a.cnh headcanons for bradley because im bored and i think it's funny.
bradley would 100% be a bear villager with the lazy personality.
he'd probably be light brown and constantly wear a blue pineapple aloha shirt and a fake mustache.
his catchphrase would be "great balls of fire!"
he'd probably write songs for your villager and hand them to you, saying you were his muse and he hopes you like it.
you can catch him playing the piano near resident services or singing along to the radio.
he frequents brewster's coffee.
most of his DIYs are of different wooden or toy planes and cars.
his dream is to be a pilot.
his house is a mix of plane and beach themed.
he's probably cooped up in his house until around 4 pm because he slept in and he'll be out until 2 am.
he will engage in shit talk about hangman with the player's villager because he's tired of that man doing push ups in front of his house or trying to peer pressure him into drinking his protein shakes.
It's the typical crowd packed in tonight, busy and loud; it's the kind of thing Bob likes, being able to slip past friends and strangers alike without drawing too much attention to himself. He likes being able to watch; he likes the energy. And he figures that's why he's the first to notice Bradley slip away from the usual pool table the daggers hog for themselves, even if Bob isn't sure he's the one who should follow.
Still, he moves from the table to the bartop, anyway. There's celebratory drinking and then there's this. The tension, the tight fingers are impossible to miss.
"It's the yet I'm worried about," Bob replies. One drink, two, whatever - it's not the first few drinks that are the issue, at least in Bob's own messy experience, it's the drinks that come after. "Take it easy for a night," he suggests. "Just to say you can."
another swig of his beer is taken, taking the time to enjoy the taste that coats his tongue. had it been anyone else who approached him, he would have shooed them off, reassuring them further with false words and phrases to let them know that — really, he was alright and fine and could take care of himself. but it was bob and somehow, bradley felt more inclined to trust him. even just a little.
he held a certain calm to him, free from any sort of judgement anyone else might have inflicted on him. bradley appreciated it. so, he offers him a slow bob of his head to show he understood, glancing over at him as he gazed carefully at the other's frame. "i'll try to." bradley promised, hesitating for just a moment. "what are you doing over here? i thought you'd be with phoenix."
Hangman is Donald Duck REAL. (lol)
Ao3 post
A gift for @barnes_brain (ao3)!
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i just got done playing a bit of animal crossing with my gf and my switch is about to die so ill continue getting stuff out today. might throw stuff into the queue or i might not who knows. happy sunday y'all!
MJ grinned at the accusation, not even bothering to deny it. For as talented as she was at pretending to be someone else when the cameras were rolling? She's never been a particularly talented LIAR - at least not when it came to the people she loved. She absolutely was objectifying him, but could you blame her? Bradley was one of the most strikingly BEAUTIFUL men she'd ever met, both inside and out.
And he was HERS. All hers. This beautiful house mansion around them was THEIR home, the place where all their whispered promises to each other about the future were going to take shape. The massive dining room that would comfortably seat every last member of Bradley's unit for the holidays, the big backyard where their KIDS would grow up playing, the oversized garage where Mav could store some of his projects (an excuse to see Bradley more, she knew).
All of it right here at their FINGERTIPS. If they could agree on the ownership of the pizza order.
"Wait a minute, I thought you liked it best when I was DISRESPECTFUL..." MJ drawled, pushing off the island and slowly making her way across the room to him. Slowly walking her perfectly manicured nails up his chest, they eventually came to cup either side of his neck as her gaze became HEATED and mischievous. "Which one is it, my love?"
@brdshwed
lazy smile playing on his lips, the pilot's eyes never leave the ginger as she saunters playfully over to him, close enough to touch. and once she did, his breath hitches only slightly as he finds himself quietly leaning into thin, perfect fingers against his chest, long lashes fluttering as he felt so utterly drawn to her.
it was even worse when she touched along his neck and he almost melted into the teasing caresses. really, he sometimes hated how touch-starved he could be. it just simply made him crave being close to MJ more so than he was already. could she feel how rapidly his pulse throbbed against her fingertips? or how his neck seemed to feel like it was the same temperature as lava? surely she could.
"baby," bradley rumbles in his throat, letting their noses rub affectionately together and he grunts softly. "that's during other times, you know that." he shuts his eyes for a moment and hums. his hands rest on her, one on the small of the back while the other rubs at her hip, drawing her closer to his frame. "either way, you're still not getting ownership. y'can tease me all you want, it just ain't happening."
Bradley startles and it sends a pang of regret through Jake, as well as some irrational hurt and upset. The other man has every right to be wary of him. Scared, even. Jake doesn't get to be upset about that. It's not fair to Bradley. So, with a nod, he pulls his hands away, not wanting to upset him any further. He'll stay far, far away from him, if that's what he wants. And for a moment there, he's pretty sure that's what he'll have to do.
And then Bradley's words hit him and his heart swells. He wants him to stay? For what feels like the hundredth time, Jake finds himself surprised by his dedication. Surprised that he isn't actively looking for an out. Surprised by the fact that the other man still loves him after such a revelation.
"'m stayin'. For as long as you'll have me." He takes his hand and gives it a squeeze with a small smile. "Y' ain't gettin' rid of me that easy." Then he's taking a step back towards the door, stopping with his hand on the doorknob, but not opening it. "Y' need your keys, or y' got 'em with ya?" He's not about to make Bradley go back in there. Not until Jake's had the chance to dispose of the bodies and thoroughly clean up. Luckily for his boyfriend, he's got a few tricks up his sleeve for getting blood out of the carpet.
a small semblance of a smile forms on his lips at the reassurance, previous concerns melting away as soon as they came. a small part of him was worried that jake would pull away from him, with some bullshit excuse of 'wanting to keep bradley safe'. he had seen enough superhero movies as a kid to know where that would end up with the hero's love interest finding out their secret identity. just a whole load of bullshit and unnecessary pain in his honest opinion. and besides, he could take care of himself.
"stealing my words? you should come up with better material, darlin'." bradley teases him lightly, giving his hand a squeeze once again before he finally, and reluctantly lets him go. he shifts his eyes towards the closed door, hesitating for just a moment as he drops his hands to his pockets, patting them awkwardly. when he feels the bulge of his keys in his left one, he shakes his head. "nope, I've got them right here. I'll just go wait until you're done."
a gentle squeeze is given to jake's shoulder, he pulls back and starts to make his way over to the bronco, unlocking it and climbing into the driver's side. he puts the key in the ignition, listening as the truck rumbles to life, music softly playing from the radio and he drums his fingers against the steering wheel with a quiet exhale. jesus, he needed a drink after this was all said and done.
"You sure 'bout that?" Not that he wants to be questioning him, but he really doesn't seem like he's truly understanding the gravity of the situation. Well, gravity by a normal person's standards. Like Bradley had said, this was just a Tuesday for Jake. Killing guys, being around dead bodies, it doesn't phase him. Never had. It was a necessary evil that he really doesn't mind committing.
When it finally, finally hits him, Jake just nods, lips pressed tight. "There it is," he murmurs. At least he doesn't have to wait all night for that. They can get the shock and horror out of the way and move on with things. "Technically, they already bled out. That's why they're dead." Not helping, Jake. Okay, maybe he needs a new strategy, because clearly explaining what's going on isn't working out the best for him.
Carefully, slowly, giving him time to pull away, he puts his hands on Bradley's shoulders, meets his gaze. His voice is soft when he speaks, calm and collected. The way he figures, Bradley needs to see that he's got the situation completely under control. "Hey, cariño, why don't you go wait in the bronco, huh?" He can't deal with this mess until after dark anyways, so it's probably best not to stick around until then. He's not sure the other man will be able to stomach it. "I'll go grab a few things, lock up, and I'll take ya t' mine for t'night. 'm gonna take care of everythin', you don't gotta worry 'bout it. It's okay. You're okay."
"semantics," bradley replied all too quickly, shooting him a sharp glare at the very unnecessary specification. it didn't matter how or when to the pilot, the fact of the matter was that there were corpses in his shabby house. it was a goddamn crime scene and he was honestly surprised no one had called the police yet. considering the damage, he was sure they weren't exactly quiet in their brief confrontation.
his head turns, avoiding jake's eyes for a moment, merely to just give himself a moment to breathe and push down the bile that started to rise again. which had his stomach churning uncomfortably. he's only brought back to the moment when he feels hands on his shoulders — it startled him and his brown eyes widened just a bit as he looks back at his boyfriend.
the words he speaks and the way he says them are soothing, trying to ease his frayed nerves and it does so if only slightly. he's reminded of the way his mother used to console him whenever he had a more than stressful episode. it's. . .nice. he trusts him. trusts jake. he gulps down a bit of saliva, nods several times and wipes his sweaty palms against his pants. "alright, yeah. i can do that. but..." his voice trails off, his brows furrowing in the moment as he shifts his jaw.
"you're not going to leave are you? i mean — i don't want you to, after all this is done. if you could stay, that'd be great."
"Ehh..." He makes a face, takes one hand back to wobble it side to side. Sort of. "Usually ends with more dead bodies than him, and 's more like a mummy with a bird skull for a head, but basically...yeah, I s'pose. If y' wanna think about it like that." If he had to compare himself to a vigilante, though, he'd probably choose the Punisher. The way he saw it, the guy had closer ideologies to Jake's than any of the others.
Watching Bradley process the new information is certainly interesting. When he just sort of...accepts it, though, Jake frowns, eyes squinting. That doesn't seem right. "You're takin' this really well, sweetheart." Not that he necessarily expected crying and screaming, but come on, give him something more than the equivalent to a 'huh'. "Those guys in there are dead. Y' know that, right? There are dead bodies in your house that 'm gonna have t' get rid of." Not to be blunt, but he's getting a bit worried by the lack of reaction to the discovery that his boyfriend's a killer.
"mhm, yeah. i got that the first time." except he didn't. his gears, as slow as they were right now, were still churning with the information he had been given. his boyfriend was a comic book character, the typical 'crime fighting superhero' or, well not necessarily a superhero by normal standards? that traveled out by night to protect the peace and had an entirely different life by day, completely separate from his other persona. or, at least that's what he got from what he was told, he doesn't know the full picture after all, he didn't know how jake got when he was dressed in his armor. he only got a glimpse of it at the very end.
bradley blinks slowly and carefully. finally, the ball finally dropped. ". . .holy shit. you just killed those guys." he breathed out, glancing jake over with a slackjawed expression. "and they're on my fucking floor. they're bleeding out on my floor."
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He lets himself be examined, allowing his boyfriend to move his head around easily. With a snort at the comparison, he grins. "Don't let Khonshu hear y' sayin' that." He doubts the old bird will find 'glorified toilet paper mummy' as funny as he does. "'m fine. Those chuckleheads were a bunch'a amateurs. Even if they did know what they were doin', the armour would've just healed me."
Alright, he knows he's probably still not making much sense, but it's a lot to explain. Not really something he can get out comprehensively in ten words or less. Growing slightly more serious, he takes Bradley's wrists and pulls his hands from his face so he can hold them. Looks him in the eye so he can gauge his reaction.
"'s a really long story. Short version? Uh..." Should be interesting. He looks up, making a face, as he tries to figure out what the most important bits are. "I died a while back. Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon, brought me back, so now I serve him, which basically means I wear a magic healin' suit and dish out his justice t' the people that deserve it. Sorta makes me a vigilante sometimes, I guess. That was all self-defense in there, though. They came here lookin' t' kill me." Because he'd killed their leader and they apparently held grudges like there was no tomorrow, but semantics.
gaze flickers briefly down to their now connected hands, giving them a gentle squeeze before he looks back at jake. his expression is unreadable as he listens to his explanation, which, while making more sense than the previous one, still left him with more questions than answers.
when he hears that he had finished speaking, the pilot slowly nodded his head, letting himself take longer to process. . .well. . .everything. to be fair, he did ask for this - to be told the whole truth without leaving anything of importance out. really, he keeps doing this to himself. "so you're like spider-man but with a bird hanging over your shoulder telling you what to do?" he raised a brow, letting his thumbs brush over his knuckles.
"i hope you know how insane this all sounds, darlin'. honestly, don't think i would've believed it until i saw all of this but. . .wow. this is a lot." he breathed quietly, giving a lame nod. "almost dyin' because of weird cult members, pummelin' them to a pulp, healin' yourself up with your armor. . .i guess this is just a normal tuesday for you. explains the secrecy, though."
Does he owe her dinner, a nice one at that, or is she simply playing into his forgetfulness - Natasha isn't going to make it easy on Bradley. She'll let him squirm a bit first.
"I wouldn't have reminded you if I weren't," she says, rolling her eyes in a way that suggests playfulness rather than true annoyance. "Come on, Bradshaw, I said nice. Not typical."
It's a testament to their friendship, his forgetfulness notwithstanding, that he suggests a bar first. Nat loves a good sports bar; she likes the atmosphere, she likes how the excitement hangs in the air, and she finds it comforting that it's easy to find one no matter where she ends up. But it's typical and hardly a step above the Hard Deck and the other bars the Daggers have on rotation. She can admit the monotony of hops, paperwork, and a few drinks with the boys after the day is done is starting to sit uncomfortably under her skin. She's itching for change.
"Italian, Thai, whatever - you can still pick," she tells him as if dinner was his suggestion in the first place.
"hey, nice can mean a lot of things," he defended with a loud snort, though he doesn't bother to really try and convince her to consider the option otherwise. not that it would work, anyways. nat could be a stone wall of stubbornness when she wanted to be, which bradley admired when it didn't directly involve him, of course.
he carefully mulls over the other choices of food they could indulge in. luckily, there were plenty of different restaurants that wasn't just burger, fries and beers. "in that case," bradley begins, taking out his phone and quickly searching for some nice places in their area with good reviews on top of that.
"if you're up for it, we could get some indian food. it's a decent drive, but some of these reviews i'm readin' really rate the place high. said it's the best place you could ever go to, i think it's worth trying out."
IT DOESN'T MATTER if he's normally one of the more responsible pilots she deals with — and that's a small mercy of a rarity — the man's still an aviator, and that comes with enough of that cocksure, devil-may-care attitude decorated with a dash of arrogant charm. She's used to it by now. It was as if it was its own mandatory skillset taught at FWS.
Leonie's mouth finally closes, a tight smile with no amusement behind it. "Learned when to cut your losses in the same place you learned your quips, huh?" Her hands leave her hips to cross over her chest instead. "You can think I'm a wet blanket all you want, but the rules are the rules. No matter how good you are — or think you are."
"i've learned not to push my luck when it comes to these sort've things, ma'am. flowery words and quips can only take you so far, and i'd rather not make this any harder on the both of us." bradley explained with a tiny nod, hands resting on his hips as he softly exhaled the breath he was holding.
well, this certainly wasn't going to plan. eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments as his tongue darts out against his bottom lip to wetten it. then, he looked back at the woman, tilting his head slightly to the side. "will you at least tell me why?"
"Sure you do." He said. Jake watched as Bradley racked the balls. Gaze lingering, but not in a way that anyone else would think of as odd.
Jake had already had his cue so he shifted toward the table. Long legs carrying him to the table. A laugh falling from his lips. "Mhm it's cute that you think that is the only time that it's going to happen." He said. He leaned over the table. The cue poised as he lined up the shot with the cue ball to break. He stood back up to survey the table. Deciding on his next shot. He slowly walked around the table. Much like when they were in the air there was a strategy and precision to it.
bradley huffs softly, though he manages to bite his tongue to resist retorting to that statement - for now. lord knows that he couldn't keep his mouth shut when it came to hangman and his taunts.
he steps back, having the decency to give the other pilot enough space to properly aim and strike the balls as he pleased. when the cue ball collided with the others, scattering them along various different ends and sides of the table, his eyes shift from the surface itself to following hangman's body as he travels around to try and search for a better angle. "and here i thought you would've just gone right in without any planning," the pilot pointed out with a barely visible smile, reaching for his bottle to take a quick sip of it. "or are you just trying to show off again?"
Considering Bradley looks about ten seconds away from losing his lunch, Jake feels somewhat relieved once they're outside. Sure, now their conversation is that more public, and they'll have to try and keep their voices down to avoid drawing out nosey neighbours, but at least he won't have to worry about adding vomit to the list of things he needs to clean out of the carpet.
He cringes. For a moment, just a moment, he considers lying. Coming up with some sort of fairytale that'll have him coming out looking like he's got rainbows shooting out of his ass.
He quickly dismisses that idea, deciding the truth at least won't come around to bite him in said ass later.
"In order?" He blows out a breath. "Evil cultists, sorta, I'd look fuckin' fantastic in a Sailor Moon costume, and the ceremonial armour of the Egyptian moon god." There. That wasn't so bad, was it?
unbelievable. absolutely unbelievable. his arms eventually drop to his sides, hands instead settling on his hips while he waits patiently for the other man to give him some sort of good explanation for. . .all of this.
what he wasn't expecting was just the jumbled up load of nothing he was given. bradley's silent for all of two minutes, blinking slowly and carefully at the cabbie driver as he takes this in. eventually, he finds the means to speak, "absolutely none of that made a lick of sense." he utters bluntly.
stepping closer to jake, he cups each side of his face, beginning to forcibly turn his head side to side, eventually pausing so they could look each other in the eye. "let's try this again, because i know you, jake. you're not tellin' me everything. you got yourself wrapped up in some cultist shit? are you alright? hurt anywhere?" his brows furrow. "and what sort've ceremonial armor are you talking about? looks more like a glorified toilet paper mummy to me."
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Rooster: Where the fuck did I-
Hangman: What did you lose this time?
Rooster, kneeling on the floor and looking under the table: My sunglasses, I swear I just had them.
Hangman, looking at the sunglasses on top of Rooster’s head: I’ll help you find ‘em for ten bucks.
God dammit, Bradley Bradshaw really might be her SOULMATE huh?
This was NOT the first time MJ had discovered that her boyfriend shared a weirdly specific trait with her. Some of them were fun - this pizza order, their love of karaoke at a bar, the things they liked to do to each other in the bedroom. Others? Their broken families, the deep insecurities, fears over falling so UTTERLY in love with someone the way they had with each other because of the pain it opened them up to? She wouldn't wish on her WORST enemy. And yet there was something ... peaceful about knowing that Bradley understood it all. Understood HER in a way no one else could, in a way she'd never have to try and explain. It wasn't enough on its own to clean out any of the skeletons they had in their closets, but at least she knew that they weren't AFRAID of each other's.
MJ rolled her eyes at his defense, already shaking her head in amusement as she paused her work on the box she'd been unpacking and leaned up against their kitchen island. Fully moving into their new beachfront home would have to WAIT a little longer, she supposed - they needed to settle this once and for all. "The Rooster Pie? REALLY?" she repeated in disbelief, a tiny laugh clear in her voice. "Look I know you're OLDER than me sweetheart, but I've been eating pizza since I was old enough to walk. If anyone's got a stake to claim in this particular order it's ME, and if you're intent on fighting me on it? At least make it FUN for me and take your clothes off while you do it."
bradley full on GAPES at her cheeky dig at his age, though it doesn't fail to make his smile grow even wider, much more genuine and lively than the previous one. "now hold on a second-" he begins, though he doesn't get a chance to even finish that first thought as the ginger woman continues right along as if he hadn't started speaking at all.
ends of his eyes crinkle up, amusement clear in hazelnut gaze as he stares at her, arms taking to folding against his chest as he presses his hip against the side of the wall. "not only are you trying t'steal my order. . ." bradley begins carefully, nodding along as if he's trying to understand the outrageous words that spilled out of her mouth. "but you're also gonna objectify me while you're doin' it? jesus, MJ. really know how to make a guy feel special."
he waves a finger. "though, if we're goin' off on the topic of age, i automatically get claim to the order. doesn't matter how long you've been eating it, sweetheart -- as your elder, you should respect me and let me have it. done deal."
