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#sorry not sorry rooster ;)
mattastr0phic · 2 months
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The consequences of a friend getting me into RvB like a week or two ago and then suddenly Rooster Teeth announces it's shut down got me sobbing at 4:30 am
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polar-equinoxx · 1 month
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Step one: make peace with dad
Step two: manage to survive mission with dad
Step three: have dads kiss each other on the carrier’s deck
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promisingyounglady · 2 months
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stranger. | BB x Reader
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SYNOPSIS: drunk hookup, no names exchanged, bradley is a pussy eating king.
PAIRING: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
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You pant, breathing heavily
“W-What’s your name again?”
A head pops up from in between your legs, giving you a sight that makes you delirious from the sheer sexiness of it all.
He’s golden, the warm light from the bedside table lamp, casting a glow on his pink cheeks. Dog tags hang from his collar bones.
He’s got pretty eyes, a strong nose and a shit-eating grin covered by a mustache that’s dripping in your slick.
You hadn’t even had time to even exchange names, only knowing that you were mutual friends of Jake who met at tonight’s party. One too many shots later and you’re here getting eaten out by a fighter pilot you don’t even know the name of.
He comes forward, leaning into your breath as he mutters softly. “Bradley. Bradshaw.”
You moan, feeling how his hands slide up your body as he utters his name, embarrassingly squirming under his touch.
“Say it back” He requests, deep brown eyes gazing into yours.
You oblige, moaning his name in a breathless whisper.
“Bradley”
He smiles, kissing you to shut you up before he goes down back in between your legs, pecks littered against the flesh of your inner thighs.
“Say my name and then ask me to eat you out”
You almost can’t believe your ears. You look down, gripping the sheets as you stare the smug bastard down.
“Nicely” he adds, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit as he smirks.
You throw your head back, eyes shutting as you mumble embarrassingly. “Eat me bradley”
His hands roam to your tits, giving them a squeeze
“Louder” he replies, muffled as he’s concentrated in stuffing his face in your vagina, choosing to give small unsatisfying licks until you say it properly.
You cry out, chest rising. “Eat me out, Bradley” you grit, moaning when he finally swipes his nose along your pussy, giving you what you want.
“I don’t like you.” you huff, glaring at the head of hair you’re running your hands through.
You feel him smile against your mound, coming up to snarkily change the topic.
“What’s your name?”
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the-ace-with-spades · 6 months
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sorry but this is how I imagine icemav as parents in my head...
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caystar13star · 3 months
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monarchisms · 8 months
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fallinglikemagic · 2 months
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Okay, now that everybody's had some time to process and gotten some of the doomposting out, here's my thoughts on the whole situation.
First of all, I'm not really worried about whether or not RWBY will continue in some capacity. It's uncertain, sure, but no more than it was already. In February we got the update that they were talking to potential partners about getting volume 10 made, so clearly they weren't just relying on Rooster Teeth and Warner Brothers for it - maybe one of those companies will pick it up, maybe a different company will, either way I'm sure it *will* be picked up by somebody and unless they get real unlucky, the show won't be much worse off than it was before - if anything it might be better off, considering that WB have been shitty about animation for quite a while now (if you're not already familiar and you're up for some extra research, I recommend looking into the Coyote vs ACME situation that's been going on recently for a great example of WB's bullshit). And while it's unclear exactly how much involvement the original crew will have in the show's future, I'm pretty optimistic about it. I doubt the writers are going to let go of creative control without a fight, if for nothing else then for Monty - I don't like focusing too much on the whole Monty's Legacy stuff in general, but I do think that the crew are going to want to keep their friend's work alive and authentic and as accurate to what he wanted it to be as possible. None of this is a certainty of course, but I think RWBY is gonna be fine, things will just be kinda rocky for a bit.
With all that being said, while this may end up ultimately being a blessing in disguise for RWBY as a franchise, it sure ain't one for everybody who worked at Rooster Teeth. This entire situation is still horrible - so many people being fired on the spot, effective immediately, with no warning and with several of them only finding out by seeing articles about it being posted on Twitter, it's fucked. I know Rooster Teeth wasn't exactly lacking in controversy and problematic behaviour, to put it lightly, but there were still plenty of amazing people there who are now in a really shitty situation. On top of that, while again this isn't exactly anything new, especially for WB, it is the latest instance of a huge problem in the animation and entertainment industries. So no matter how things pan out for RWBY, we should still be really fucking mad about this.
And we definitely shouldn't be celebrating. I've seen some posts saying "good riddance" and celebrating RT's downfall, not just from people who hate RWBY (I mean don't get me wrong I'm sure the hatedom is out in full force but that's not the kind of thing I'm referring to right now), but people who like/used to like the show and just hated the company. And don't get me wrong, I didn't like a lot of things about the company either, I've actually been wanting RWBY to separate itself from RT for a pretty long time (be careful what you wish for I guess 💀), but there's a time and a place and this certainly ain't it. Plenty of people who have worked there have said that they loved their jobs, plenty of others said it was horrible and toxic and nightmarish, but either way a job is a job and in this industry work isn't always easy to find, especially in recent years. Celebrate in private if you want, but now is not the damn time to be bringing out the cake and confetti.
TLDR; I'm cautiously optimistic about RWBY's future, I'm pretty sure it'll be fine and they'll be able to keep the core crew to at least some extent, but this is still a really bad situation for everybody who just lost their jobs, don't be a dick.
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lesbiradshaw · 10 months
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these barbies are gay!
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enthyrea · 1 year
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hangster kiss pls
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they r smooching!!!!
i refuse to draw bradley in anything other than that hawaiian shirt🐛
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bettycooper · 7 months
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and i'd get him to swap our places
For @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist!
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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I lost one of my chickens :( she was caught and carried away by a fox... I’ve been growing complacent about my chickens’ safety I think because we’ve only had one other attack before, a goshawk that swooped in abruptly (unsuccessfully), but no fox sightings nearby so I’ve been assuming Pandolf was a great deterrent. Which he is, just not foolproof. I’ve talked to some people in town about this and they were pretty philosophical about foxes stealing chickens, like “it’s the tribute we pay to woodland animals, it’s just a few hens here and there.” I don’t begrudge the fox for being a fox, if anything I have a renewed respect for foxes because everyone I talked to proceeded to give me their best / worst fox stories, and most of them involved foxes outsmarting humans (learning people’s habits / timetables, opening latches, faking a limp...) Still I feel terrible for my hen, she was only three. RIP Cordy :( You’ll be remembered fondly... (except by the cats.) I feel bad for the other hen too, who just lost her pal!
When I said that last thing, one of my neighbours jumped on the opportunity to try and convince me again to accept a rooster from him. He had a rooster baby boom last summer and I’ve been telling him for months that I don’t need a rooster, I don’t want to raise chickens I just want eggs, and his new argument was that a rooster would protect my hen (or if it comes to that, would heroically sacrifice himself rather than let the hen be eaten—I’m sceptical...) I asked around for a young hen but there aren’t any to be had in this season, so my remaining one is going to be alone until the spring, and my neighbour said she’d get stressed and male company is better than no company. (I wish I could ask my hen what she wants! Maybe she’s penning A Coop Of One’s Own as we speak.) I said the rooster was more likely to stress her out and harass her and he said nah they’re free ranging all day, it’ll be fine, and he’s young so your adult hen will boss him around. I was like, but then will he be any good at protecting her? etc. etc. and after a while I caved in.
When I told her about this on the phone my mum sighed “you’re terrible at saying no”—excuse me, I said no so many times and the guy just kept ploughing on until he could foist a rooster upon me. I’m good at saying no, other people are terrible at hearing it! I reassured her that I had only agreed to take the rooster for a short probationary period, and if he bothers my hen too much I’ll drive him back to his native farm. My mum was like “Drive him back? look I’m sorry I raised you as a city kid but there’s no need to waste gas on driving a rooster around, I’ll have no qualms about wringing his neck for dinner if he’s more trouble than he’s worth.” The rooster’s fate is not sealed though, if he is anywhere from vaguely useful to not actively problematic I’ll keep him, so we’ll see...!
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polar-equinoxx · 4 months
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POV: Admiral Ice is scaring the daggers with his cutie-pie smile
stills under the cut~
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bloogers-boogers · 15 days
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Idk if you're still doing requests but could you do one of Adam laughing his ass off when Micheal gives him a rooster toy but it's like one of those ugly loud long yellow rubber chickens but Adam thinks is cute and hilarious. Micheal, maybe, is just glad Adam likes it.
I have so many headcanons on WHY Michael loves roosters qusgwishsis but one of them is it being God assigning all the archangels an animal to represent them as, like Lucifer is a duck (cute and goofy) while Michael is a rooster (the one that fights to protect it's flock) ahsishsowjs anyways the second hc I have about it is that (it could be either seen as platonic or romantic) but Adam was the first person ever that Michael had to create SOMETHING after Lucifer was banished to wonder earth with Lilith; he was left with the responsibility of creating new creatures for Adam (and he wasn't like Lucifer in that category of creativity, so it meant a lot for him when Adam would praise him for his work). The rooster was literally the most convenient (he did it to help Adam wake up in time to do his chores bc the first human would complain about oversleeping and not being able to finish all of his duties in time before nighttime) and beautiful thing he's made not only for Adam but himself too.
Third hc is because of Lucifer. I love them being caring over the other but I like to see Lucifer admire and feel inspire by Michael's hidden creativity that isn't allowed to share bc he's meant to fight not dream. So Lucifer just loves whenever he sees Michael 'slip' up and do something like an object or creature. I have this whole idea about more than anything but it's Michael singing to a young dreamer lucifer 😭💕 ahdkwjsossjsow
[Michael: More than anything
More than anything
I'll shelter and adore you more than anything
Lucifer: Michael, I don't need you to protect me from this
Michael: I just don't want you to be crushed by them like
Like I was
Lucifer: Michael...
When I was young, I didn't really know you at all
I always felt so small
But I heard your stories and I was enthralled
The tales about your lofty dreams, I listen breathlessly
Imagining it could be me
So it's the view I had of you
That showed me dreams can be worth fighting for ]
I dunno it just makes things more tragic after Lucifer's fall.
I also hc Michael having his wings down when being only around Lucifer as he felt relax an at ease while being around him, the brothers all knew that Michael wings were always tensed, up (to look bigger), and alert or tucked away as he had issues on trusting someone/something won't happen if he let his guard down, and without Lucifer (fallen) it was unlikely to ever see his wings down but somehow after Adam entered heaven they started noticing Michael's wings flapped excitedly and flopped downwards while speaking or being around Adam.
Last hc I promise ahsuwwjiw but I also like hc Michael having a prosthetic wing after Lucifer's fall from trying last minute to protect Lucifer but having to be put down by one of the seraphim ripped his wing off as a warning (it was both traumatic for Lucifer and Michael that Lucifer just accepted his fate and shielded Lilith from most of the pain of the fall).
Anyways sorry for the long rant anon 😭😭😮‍💨
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the-ace-with-spades · 2 months
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(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)
When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.
He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."
There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.
The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.
The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.
Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.
The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.
Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.
Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.
Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.
He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.
Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."
"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."
Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.
Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.
Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.
The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.
Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.
Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.
But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.
He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.
"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"
Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.
Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.
"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."
"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."
"Sweetheart—"
"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."
Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.
The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.
Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.
Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.
Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.
They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.
For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.
They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.
Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.
Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.
Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.
"Can you get the nurse for me?"
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nellswitchly · 1 month
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Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?
Academy Jake Seresin, who grew up in a severely red wing, homophobic environment and carried that definition of "manhood" along with him since his childhood. Academy Jake Seresin, who grows absolutely infatuated with a fellow aviator and he has no idea why: whether it's his stupid mustache, his ugly hawaiian shirts or the fact that he's the only one who he considers an equal opponent in the air. Academy Jake Seresin, who can only manifest his feelings in a physical manner, because that's the only time his head isn't flooded by the "What would your father say?" question and by the "You're a man now. Act like one." talk from his teenage years. He lives with the casuality of their relationship and the fact that he can't ever ask for more.
Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house in long beach, is it casual now?
Academy Bradley Bradshaw, who considers himself a walking, ticking bomb: filled with problems and burdens that he shouldn't put on anyone else, because no one deserves to go through all that. Academy Bradley Bradshaw, unable to open himself up, starts to have eyes for a fellow aviator: whether it's because of his stupid smile, how annoyingly witty and charismatic he is, or how good of a pilot he is. Academy Bradley Bradshaw, who can only manifest his feelings in a physical manner, because anything deeper comes with the inherent danger of loss. The casuality suits him, because pain suits him.
I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself.
And so everytime Bradley Bradshaw sneaks out of bed after a night together, surrounded by pitchblack darkness, Jake Seresin pretends not to notice and never opens his eyes. He doesn't stop him and never asks him to stay til' morning, no matter how much every muscle in his body wishes to. Because until they grow up, grow out of their self-destructive habits, Bradley and Jake are innately destined for failure.
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only the biggest brained individuals understand that Grif is actually the smartest of the reds and blues. only the wisest among us know that it takes a genius to get away with the bullshit he gets into on the daily. only the sharpest crayons in the box get that Grif has been playing everyone the entire show and only acts dumb so everyone underestimates him. only the smartiest of pantses can comprehend him.
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