#all4one

[my-own-cure]

Morgen treffen wir uns ... kein Plan ey...

[nonesuchrecords]

On his new album, COOKUP, due February 24, Sam Gendel and his friends and collaborators Gabe Noel and Philippe Melanson interpret R&B and soul hits originally released between 1992 and 2004 by Ginuwine, 112, Aaliyah, All-4-One, Soul 4 Real, Beyoncé, Joe, Erykah Badu, Mario, SWV, and Boyz II Men. You can preorder and get their take on 112’s "Anywhere," with Meshell Ndegeocello on vocals, at https://samgendel.lnk.to/COOKUP

"COOKUP marks another chance to convene with my good friends Phil Melanson and Gabe Noel," Gendel says. "For this occasion we hovered over a particular flavor: jams that we grew up with. We sculpted in sound our collective memories of this music. Meshell Ndegeocello took the 112 to another dimension (shoutout wayne12)."

[roosterforme]

How Could I Forget? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.

Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

I wrote this for the 'Its not the prompt. It's the creator' challenge from @tgm-all4one. Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley flipped through the options in the ancient jukebox while he sipped a cheap beer. This had to be the shittiest bar he'd ever been inside, and that was really saying something, since he was a University of Virginia alumni. 

"Let's see..." he muttered. "Danger Zone? No. Take My Breath Away? Nah. Slow Ride? Absolutely not."

He finally selected Great Balls of Fire and turned to check where his cousins had disappeared off to. But the bar was packed with locals waiting for the fireworks to start over the Chesapeake Bay, and he couldn't spot any of them. 

If they ditched him in this sticky little hellhole on the outskirts of Norfolk, Virginia, he was going to be so pissed. He scanned the bar once more as the song started playing, and his eyes settled on the cutest thing he had seen in a long time. 

You were holding your beer bottle like a microphone and aggressively lip syncing along with Jerry Lee Lewis as his voice blasted from the jukebox. 

Bradley smiled. You were right in the middle of the crowded bar, but nobody else had seemed to notice how you were shimmying along to the song, looking adorable in your own little world. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you mouthed Come on baby, you drive me crazy! Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!

When Bradley laughed, you opened your eyes, and they met his immediately. You pressed your lips together, suddenly looking shy at being caught rocking out. You covered your mouth with your hand in embarrassment as your eyes went wider while Bradley tried to squeeze through the crowd to get to you. 

He was afraid you were going to try to sneak off, but you didn't. You were just nonchalantly drinking your beer when he reached you. 

"That was quite a performance," he said, and you looked up at him, clearly amused. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, but your smirk said otherwise. 

"That was my song," he said, nodding toward the jukebox.

"What do you mean?" you asked, pressing the bottle to your lips, and drawing Bradley's eyes down to watch the way you took a sip, the bottle lingering on your bottom lip for a beat.

"I selected it. On the jukebox," he grunted, and you laughed at him. 

"No, you didn't. I did."

Bradley scoffed as you squared your shoulders and jutted out your chin in playful defiance. "I chose it like three minutes ago," Bradley insisted. 

"I picked it like five minutes ago!" Your laugh was infectious, and Bradley just wanted to keep it going.

He shook his head solemnly. "It's still my song."

And you shook your head, imitating him. "If anything, it's Jerry Lee Lewis's song."

"Well, I can't argue with that. I did love your cover version though."

"Thanks." God, your smile was adorable. And your lips on that bottle had him thinking some scandalous things about your mouth. 

He cleared his throat. "Are you from Norfolk?"

You sighed deeply. "Unfortunately. You?"

"Virginia Beach."

You crinkled your nose and made a face that had him laughing again. "That might be even worse. You still live there?"

"For now," he replied. "I'm waiting on a new work assignment."

"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked, and when Bradley nodded, you coaxed him closer with your finger. Gorgeous. You were so pretty, Bradley was afraid he wouldn't be able to comprehend your words this close to your eyelashes and your mouth. "I escaped. I live in San Diego now."

"Bravo," he whispered, but he knew you could still hear him over the jukebox as it played Slow Ride. "What's it like to escape Virginia? I've only ever read about it in works of fiction. I've never met anyone who actually managed to do it."

You laughed again, and Bradley had to fight the urge to kiss you. He didn't even know your fucking name, but he was dying to feel your lips on his. 

"It wasn't easy," you promised. "Oh, no, my friend, it was not easy. My whole family still lives here, in Norfolk. My brother is in the damn Navy, if you can believe that. What a waste of a career, right?" you said with a massive eye roll. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, but you added, "Today is his birthday. Born on the Fourth of July, in the military, model citizen. I come home for his birthday every year and end up in this shitty bar every year." 

Bradley couldn't contain his smile. "I'm in the Navy."

Your eyes went wide. "Oh, shit. The Navy is the best!" you said brightly. "Oh boy, do I ever wish I had joined the Navy!"

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed harder. "I like you. You're brutally honest," he said, still laughing as you bit your lip, unable to stop smiling. 

"I'm so sorry," you said, trying not to laugh. "Come here. Let me buy you another beer to make up for the fact that you're in the Navy, you poor thing."

Bradley just shook his head, but then you took his hand in yours and gently led him to the bar. And you kept your hand linked with his while you ordered two drinks. But when you started to reach into your pocket to pay, Bradley took both of your hands in his larger one, and you looked up at him, surprised. 

"I've got it," he told you, pulling some cash out of his own pocket. "It's not every day you meet a celebrity."

"Celebrity?" you asked, and he pulled you closer by both hands. 

"You escaped Virginia! Buying you a drink would have to give me good karma! Who knows, maybe I'll even get stationed somewhere new." 

Bradley released your hands when the beers arrived, but you didn't move away from him. "Where do you want to get stationed?" you asked, and Bradley couldn't look away from the curve of your lips as you took the first sip from the bottle. 

"Somewhere warm," he told you. "But I guess I could learn how to brave some cold weather if I had to."

When the woman behind you bumped into you, Bradley could feel the warmth from your body through his clothes. You were that close. He wanted you closer. And then you were snug up against the front of him. "Well, I think you're brave," you told him with wide, teasing eyes.

"Because I'm in the Navy?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer as you shook your head. 

"No," you told him with a soft laugh. "Because you dare to sport a mustache. Almost nobody can pull that off." Now you were giggling as he ran his fingers along his facial hair. 

"I think you're having a lot of fun at my expense here tonight," he told you. "I think you like me."

You were quiet for a few seconds, and Bradley's heart beat a little faster when you said, "I think you like me, too."

"What's not to like?" he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers along your cheek. "You stole my song. You hate my job. You made fun of my facial hair. And you managed to hijack my escape from this state, because surely the odds of two of us getting out are just too high."

And then you kissed him. Just a soft brush of your lips to his. But it was perfect. And then the fireworks started outside, but you stayed right there with him, your hand coming to rest on his chest. 

Everyone else rushed out to the deck or down along the water to watch the colorful display, even the bartender. But you didn't move an inch, and now Bradley was setting down his beer. This time he kissed you, and you nibbled on his lower lip as your other hand tangled in his hair. Bradley's hands went to your waist, as he tasted you. Beer and something kind of sweet. 

"What's your name?" Bradley asked between kisses, and when you told him, the sound of it echoed through his mind. He whispered it back to you, against your lips as you dragged your fingernails along his scalp. "I'm Bradley."

"Hi, Bradley," you said with a smile between kisses. "I'm sorry I stole your song. And I actually think your mustache is cute."

He was smiling so much against your neck as he kissed you there. "I'm really happy I came to this shitty bar tonight."

"Me too," you gasped as he sucked on you there before returning his lips to yours. These hurried, needy kisses turned more languid as they slowed down. You had pushed Bradley back onto an empty stool, your palms on his splayed thighs as he stroked your neck and face while you kissed. Every little moan and gasp had him coaxing you closer, and then the fireworks ended. The other patrons started trickling back into the bar as your lips nudged his in one final kiss. 

You pulled away from him, smiling and sliding your hands down to his knees. He leaned a little close to your face, ready to beg for one more kiss as he said, "Please, let me have your phone number."

You leaned in and kissed the corner or his lips before you backed away. Bradley was up out of the stool, chasing the warmth of your body, but you shook your head.

"That's not a good idea," you told him, gently pressing your palm to his chest, and it took you a few beats to meet his eyes. "And make you pine for me from afar?" you asked with a soft, teasing smile. "I couldn't live with that."

Bradley whispered your name about a dozen times in a row until your eyes closed. He kissed you softly and said, "I'm pretty sure I'll be doing that anyway. Pining for you."

You looked up at him, gaze darting between his lips and his eyes, almost like you were about to cave. But you shook your head and said, "You'll forget all about me by tomorrow."

Then someone called your name from the other side of the bar and stole your attention from him. And Bradley felt all the perfect flirtation and banter and kisses slipping through his grasp. 

"I need to go," you told him, and you looked so sad. "I hope you escape Virginia."

He nodded slightly, running his thumb across your soft cheek one more time. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm going to miss you."

And then you kissed him again, as if you understood exactly what he meant. And then you were gone. 

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

Bradley thought about you a lot. Sometimes he let your name grace his tongue with the sweet feel of it. Sometimes he would daydream about your laugh. But the moment he opened his mail in late August and read the line detailing the location of his new station, a slew of obscenities flew out of his mouth. 

San Diego. He was going to be stationed in San Diego. 

And he had no idea how to reach you. He only knew your first name. But he spent his first few months there hopeful that he would run into you somewhere. So he visited different grocery stores. He took different running tails. He went to the mall across town once. And each time he did one of those things, he felt ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. Until he remembered your smile and the way you made him feel so good while also poking fun at him. 

As the months wore on, he went on dates and kissed other girls, but he still thought about you sometimes. When he listened to Jerry Lee Lewis, he pictured you singing into your beer bottle. When he drank a cheap beer, he could almost hear your laugh. 

You had told him that you go to that same shitty bar every year on your brother's birthday. But just as Bradley purchased tickets for a roundtrip flight from San Diego to Norfolk, he realized you probably didn't even remember him. What was he going to do? Walk into that bar and tell you he missed you? You'd look at him like he was insane. Or worse, like you had no fucking clue who he was. 

He thought about not going. Just letting the tickets go to waste. But at the very least, he would be able to visit his cousins for the night. At the very least, he might just be able to see you again, just for a minute. 

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

You sat at the bar, across the room from your brother. You didn't know why you still bothered to come home for the weekend every year, but here you were. In Norfolk. Again. 

As politely as you could, you turned down the red headed guy who tried to buy you a drink. And you did the same thing to the blond, too. Because now you associated this shithole bar with wavy, sandy brown hair and big, brown puppy eyes. And you weren't about to override your memories from one year ago with some random loser who wanted to buy you a can of Miller Lite. 

You hoped Bradley was currently stationed somewhere warm, near a beach. It always made you smile to picture him with his feet in the sand, drinking a beer.

Your head swiveled to the jukebox as soon as you heard the opening piano chords of Great Balls of Fire playing, but there was just an older woman standing there snapping her fingers. 

Your heart sank a bit as you settled back into your stool and sipped your beer. It would have been too good to be true, and you were ridiculous for even entertaining the thought. But then that raspy voice was behind you, saying your name and making goosebumps break out all across your skin.

When you turned and met his warm eyes, your mouth fell open. He was here. And he looked so handsome and nervous. And your heart was hammering too hard, making it difficult to talk. 

"I don't know if you remember me," he said softly, looking at your face like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. "But-"

"Bradley! How could I forget?" you breathed, and you watched his smile grow. "I was hoping you'd escape Virginia."

He laughed, and you wanted to kiss his mustache again. "I did. And I've been looking for you for ten months."

You leaned in a little closer and grinned. "Well I've been in San Diego."

"Me too," he said, and you tilted your head in question, but he just smiled more. "That's where I've been stationed since September."

"Oh!" you gasped. "You escaped to my city!"

"Mmhmm. And you made me come all the way back to shitty Norfolk, Virginia to find you."

You laughed. "You came back here for me?"

He nodded and stroked his fingers across your cheek just the way you remembered. "Yes. All I could think about was the way you told me you come here every year on this day. So I've been waiting months for the chance to try to see you again."

"That's really romantic," you told him, letting your palm come to rest on his chest. 

He covered it with his as he said, "My full name is Bradley Bradshaw. I live in Coronado, California on Pomona Avenue. And if you're single, I'm not leaving here without your phone number."

You were clamoring off your stool before he even finished talking, and he welcomed you into his arms. And then you kissed him, just like you had a year ago, his body warm and perfect against yours. You told him your full name between kisses, running your fingers through his hair and melting into him. "And yes, you can have my phone number, Bradley Bradshaw." 

He sighed against your cheek. "Even though I've been pining for you from afar?"

You laughed, remembering what you'd told him last year. "Apparently you've been pining for me from nearby. And that just won't do. Because I've thought about you... about the guy with the cute mustache who acted like he owns Jerry Lee Lewis's music catalog. About the only guy I ever kissed in the middle of a dive bar before I even knew his name," you whispered.

And then Bradley was kissing you again before he ended up sitting on the bar stool with you perched on his leg. He gave you his phone so you could save your number for him, and you sat like that until last call, just talking and laughing and occasionally kissing with the promise of more to come. 

When you got back to your parents' house with your brother, your phone illuminated with a new text message. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Meet me in San Diego.

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

They were both pining from afar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.

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[enthyrea]

happy one year (and a couple days) top gun maverick :)

this piece is also for @tgm-all4one’s event <3

[yeagrave]

talk to me…

for @tgm-all4one ‘it’s not the prompt. it’s the creator.’ challenge!

[bettycreeper]

@tgm-all4one: It’s not the prompt. It’s the creator. 

[eternalsams]

Skinny Dip ⇴ Dagger Squad

pairing: dagger squad x fem!reader (all platonic)

content:/warning: fluff, angst, cancer, death, grief, swearing, innuendos, mention of porn, a bit of nudity, inaccuracies about military and cancer (please forgive me)

Prompt: "Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time." (by @tgm-all4one)

summary: Last year was quite traumatizing for the Daggers and they need something to remind them of the good old times.

word count: 3.4k

notes: English isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Also, the moment I read about that challenge, I knew what I had to do, and I wanted to apologize for what you're about to read, I know some hearts might break and some mean words might be directed towards me, and I completely understand so don't hold back and throw me all your hate, I LOVE IT!!

FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS

masterlist

Bradley parks his Bronco just next to the Hard Deck before turning off the ignition. He sighs loudly and rests his head on the steering wheel. He closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, reminding himself why he was here. He clears his throat and turns to his backseat to grab the beach bag he packed up before leaving. He gets out of the car and notices Jake's truck and Natasha's car in the parking lot. He walks up to the beach and can see the dark smoke of the bonfire. He puts a smile on his face and joins his friends. He hugs Natasha who's sadly smiling at him and she softly rubs his back before letting go. He quickly hugs Jake and asks him if he needs any help with the fire.

You try to carry the many logs in your arms, sticking your tongue out in concentration. "You know... You could just ask for help." Jake laughs as he carries his own logs. "I don't need you, Bagman. I've been camping since I was 3, I can carry logs without any help." Jake rolls his eyes and when the two of you reach the others, you can't stop but sigh when you drop the wood in the little pit Rooster dug into the sand. Jake drops his own logs into the pit and taps on your shoulder, laughing. "Just shut up..." You groan.

Bradley just stays sat next to the fire, watching the flames dancing as they wait for the others to arrive. He just listens to the cracklings and he can hear Jake and Natasha having small talks. The sound of loud music pulls him from his thoughts and he raises his head, watching Mickey and Bob chatting in the parking lot. Reuben and Javy join a couple of minutes after that and they all start chatting and drinking. Sometimes one of them sighs and a silence takes over the moment before someone tries to crack a joke. The sun disappears behind the ocean and they're joined by the billions of starts above them, the moon shining bright and reflecting into the calm water. Bradley stays silent a little moment, his gaze fixed on the sand between his toes, before he takes a gimp of his beer and stands up. "I'd like to say something." Everyone turns to him and stops talking, knowing perfectly what was about to be said. "A year ago, we... lived something I never thought living all over again, and the fact I already faced it doesn't help with the pain. I don't know how you're holding up but it's been a very long year for me..." He can feel the tremble in his voice and the tears threatening from spilling and running down his face. But he stays strong, for his friends. "I'm glad we're all here today, Y/N would have appreciated it." He then sits back down and it's all silent again, just the sound he makes drinking his beer being heard. "To Y/N..." Natasha raises her drink and waits for the others to join her. They all raise their drink in turn, all of their voices echoing in the quiet evening.

You pass the doors of the locker room, the head low and deep in your thoughts. You don't even notice Natasha changing into her flight suit. Your just reach for your locker and open it, your gaze still looking into the void. You come back to reality with a start when you feel Nat's hand on your shoulder. "Hey, you're okay?" She asks you with worry painted all over her face. It wasn't you to just walk in a room and say nothing. "Yeah... Why ya asking?" You just turn back to your locker and takes off your shirt, tossing it into the locker. "I've been calling you several times, you didn't react." She zips up her suit and grabs her helmet. "I'm tired, is all."You try to give her a warm smile but she can clearly see it doesn't reach your ears like it usually does when you're smiling. She doesn't want to push you so she simply nods and leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thousands of thoughts. The words of the doctor you saw this morning just repeating in your head. Brain tumor. Too late. Inoperable.

"You guys remember when Y/N got so drunk she asked us to go skinny dip with her?" Bob laughs, looking up at the stars above them. The memory raises laughter among the group and a soft smile appears on Jake's lips. "I actually went with her that night." The confession earns him a few disgusted noises and gags among some mindless insults. That made him laugh. "I didn't go into the water or even got naked. I just looked after her from the beach, watching her having so much fun in the ocean. She was laughing so hard, I thought she would wake up all Fighter Town." He laughs and the others stop insulting him, just listening to Jake's secret memory. He rubs his face and wipes the first tears forming under his eyes. "I actually skinny dipped with her once." Natasha confesses, and a wave a wolf whistles is heard. She almost regrets immediately telling the boys her little secret but she really wanted to share the memory and keep the mood light. "Please tell me you got home together and had a pillow fight in cute Pj's." Jake smirks at her and she throws a handful of sand in his face to make him shut up. The blond pilot grimaces and spits sand before rubbing his tongue and his eyes, groaning. "What kind of porn do you think you live in?" She laughs and she watches her friend trying to spit all the sand in his mouth and she lies down, her head resting on her crossed arms. "It was just before she told us. I guess she wanted to create some memories." The silence comes back as they all know what she means by 'she told us'. Probably one of the worst day of their entire life.

You were waiting for the others to join you at the Hard Deck. Hell, you even asked Maverick to come, he deserved to learn it from you too. You were looking at your feet as you were pacing, Penny glancing at you as she was cleaning some stuff. You hear the door open and Jake's voice shouting. "The Queen has required my presence so here I am!" You smile at his antics and go to hug him tight. He's quite surprised by your display of affection but hugs you back. When you pull away, he ruffles your hair and you grumble. "Hello, Sunshine... So, what's the object of our meeting?" He asks as he sits down on a stool. "Can we... just wait for the others to arrive? I want all of you to be here before I say anything." You look back at the doors, checking if anybody else arrived. "Is everything alright?" He asks, frowning and a bit worried. You don't want to lie to him but you're not ready to tell him yet so you don't say anything and fake a warm smile. "Don't try to get any hint, Bagman." You elbow him gently and his frown is replaced by a kind smirk. "Alright, alright..." He quickly rubs his face before standing up and walking to Penny, asking her for an old fashioned. Jake was always early to everything so it didn't surprise you that he arrived first and the others took their time to join you.

When you made sure everyone was here, the whole place is on edge. Everyone wants to know why you asked them to meet you in the middle of your day off. You're standing in front of them and refuse to look into their eyes. "Okay, hum... I guess this is the moment to tell you something quite important. Since we've been reunited last year for this suicide mission, you've all become the closest thing to what I call a family. And I'll never thank enough fate for putting us all together and for making me meet all of you." You're fidgeting with your bracelet as you keep your head low, shifting your weight from one foot to another. "But I guess every good thing has its end." You chuckle dryly and finally look up, crossing pairs of concerned gazes. "Few weeks ago, I had my medical exam to check if I would be clear to fly this year and they found something. In my brain." You gulp and slightly jump when you hear a glass knock against the wooden bar. You look at Bradley and see his jaw tightening, he already knows what that means, he's been there before. He's looking deeply into your eyes, waiting for the bomb to drop. You take a deep breath and maintain his eye contact. "It's untreatable..."

The silence comes back in the Hard Deck and Penny is the first one to react, walking around the counter and wrapping her arms around you. She's whispering apologies in your ear but your eyes are still on your friends, they're all shocked, they don't know what to say. You blink and Jake stands up, leaving the bar, slamming the door behind him. You can still see him through the windows and he sits down on the steps, burying his face into his hands and you can see his shoulders slightly shake with sobs. You don't blame him. He doesn't really like showing his vulnerability, but you're his weakness. Bob and Natasha wrap their arms around you in turn, promising you they'll be there for you if you need anything. Javy quickly hugs you and kiss your hair before going to check on his best friend outside. Mickey and Reuben hug you in turn and Maverick is the last one to face you. "Captain... It's been an honor..." You try to smile and joke but he simply takes you in his arms and you let yourself close your eyes and breathe deeply, feeling safe in his arms. When he pulls back, you're met with Bradley and he's opening his mouth, trying to find the right words, but he can't. "I'm sorry..." You whisper and he quickly looks away, chuckling dryly. "You shouldn't be apologizing." He takes your hands in his and just traces the lines of your palms with his thumbs. "I'm sorry you have to go through this all over again." You mutter and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. "It's not your fault, kiddo... It's not your fault..." He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back.

The seven friends can hear the crickets singing and the waves crashing on the rock a little further. The light mood from earlier disappeared when Natasha mentioned the sad day of your announcement. "Maybe we should skinny dip in her memory..." Mickey wonders with a kind smile, looking around at his friends. "I'm not getting naked with porn-guy over there." Natasha immediately refuses, pointing at Jake. "It was a joke, Phoe'. I wouldn't even want to see you naked..." He mutters the last part. "We don't need to get naked, just in our underwear would be enough to make her happy." Mickey smiles a bit more, already undoing his laces and taking off his shoes and socks. "Come on, guys..." He begs when he sees none of his friends follow him in his idea. "I do it if you do." Bradley looks over at Natasha with a smirk. "Don't get too excited, Bradshaw. We might think you wanna see me naked." She laughs and starts stripping. Mickey grins and sees Reuben, Bob and Javy starting undressing as well. He gives Jake a pointed look and the blonde sighs. "Alright... But don't jump on me as soon as I'm undressed." He unbuckles his belt and Javy whistles jokingly. "We wouldn't dream of it, Bagman." Natasha is quick to shut him up and he simply rolls his eyes with a soft smile. When they're all wearing nothing but their underwear, they stay around the fire, looking at each other with silly faces. "What now? I mean... We've all got killer bodies but I won't stay like that all night long, it's kinda cold." Bradley jokes and a few laughs erupt. "You're scared the cold air might affect your body, Bradshaw?" Jake laughs and is immediately stopped when Bradley growls and starts chasing him.

The two men run on the sand, sometimes almost falling face first and Jake ends up jumping into the cold water. Bradley stops in his track with a grin and watches his friend stands up in the water, a shocked expression painted all over his face. "The water is freezing!" He screams and hurries to get out of the water but Bradley runs to him and tackles him back into the water. The rest of the squad erupts in laughter and they start running to the water to join the two men bickering in the cold water. When the water reaches Natasha's feet, she lets out a scream but doesn't stop in her track and dives right into the ocean. She lets the cold water hug her and wash her of the day's sweat before joining the others at the surface. She rubs her face and brings back her hair, laughing. She notices Jake shivering and his lips starting to turn purple-ish. She chuckles and splashes him right in the face. The blond pilot groans and slashes her back but she uses Bradley as a human shield. Jake laughs loudly at his frenemy's face but his smile quickly falls down when the Bradshaw pushes on his head to push him underwater for a few seconds. Natasha turns to Bob who let his glasses on the beach and now has to squint to see correctly. She splashes him and he screams before splashing back, but he doesn't really see her and ends up splashing Javy. Reuben and Mickey quickly join the water fight and the laughter can be heard from the beach.

They end up staying in the ocean for what seems like an eternity and when they go back to their stuff on the beach, the sun is slowly rising. They're completely drenched to the bones but silly smiles are engraved on their faces as they sit down on the sand. Natasha rests her head on Bob's shoulder who puts back his glasses on his noses. Mickey is lying down on her lap and she mindlessly plays with the short curls starting to grow on his head. "She would have loved this improvised not-so-skinny dipping..." Jake eventually says, his voice raw from all the screaming and all the laughing. Nobody says anything else but everyone agrees with him. For once. Natasha closes her eyes and ends up falling asleep on her WSO's shoulder and Mickey falls himself asleep on her lap. Bradley and Jake fall asleep a bit later too, lying down on the sand, their faces covered by their own shirts. Javy and Reuben share the cover they used to keep them out of the sand as a blanket and fall asleep. Three hours later, when Maverick gets off his bike, he notices several figures on the sand. He frowns and when he steps closer, he recognizes his squad, asleep and half naked on the sand. Confusion is written all over his face until he checks the day and recognizes the date. Yesterday was marking one year after your passing.

You watch them play football on the beach with a big smile on your face. Since Maverick introduced you to the Dog Fight Football, your friends would only play that game when you would go to the beach. You laugh when Mickey is being tackled by Jake and the two men roll on the ground. You take a sip from your drink and readjust your hat on your head. The umbrella over you already providing you shade but your chemo-bald head wasn't something you wanted other people to see. So after a quick discussion with Mickey, he took you hat shopping and you had a lot of fun. He insisted on paying everything and you ended up with almost ten new hats you could match with multiple outfits. No need to specify that you couldn't fly anymore but with a little help from Maverick, you still could come to base and see your friends. Your family. You're brought back to reality when a sweaty, panting Jake drops next to you. You give him a cold beer and he takes a couple of gulps before turning to you. "Want some?" He asks and you give him a pointed look. "Right... You're no fun, I forgot." He turns back to watch the others play and you bite the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from thanking him for joking about it. He was the one you felt the closest to. You didn't know why or how it happened but it happened. You loved all of them so much but Jake was different, sometimes you could almost feel like you were connected. Just like twins.

"Hey... You're getting red, you need more sunscreen?" He asks as he points to your reddening arms. You nod and he grabs the tube from the beach bag you got and walks around you to stand behind you. He starts rubbing your shoulders with the sunscreen, being careful not to knock your hat off inadvertently. "You know... I'm still up for giving you a last wish..." He says and you turn to look up at him with a smile. He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest before turning back to watch your friends play. Jake leans over to your ear and you can practically hear his smirk. "The others won't know, I promise." He whispers before rubbing your right arm with sunscreen. "Oh my God, stop!" You laugh, making him smile widely. "I'd rather give my last wish to Rooster." You say jokingly just to mess with him. "You wouldn't!" He moves to your left arm and when it's all done, he sits down on his heels before you. "But seriously, if you want anything before you..." He starts saying and stops himself, not fully on term with what was to happen. "You just ask, and I'll do anything to make it happen. And I'm sure the others would do the same." He keeps your hand in his and you look down and your joined hands, containing the tears. You look back up at him and take a deep breath. "I don't want anything more, Jake... I already have all I need." You smile at him and then look over at the others cheering Bob for tackling Mickey. You chuckle and Jake smiles, his stare never leaving your joyful face. That's exactly how he wants to remember you, smiling and laughing.

He stands up and dramatically bows. "My Queen..." He smiles at you and runs back to the others, catching the football Natasha just threw and running away from Bradley who's already on his tail. You smile and grab your phone, taking a picture of them playing. You smile at your phone and go to your camera roll. You open the file you named 'memories' and quickly scroll through all the pictures you took of the squad. You used to take a lot of pictures even before you learned about the tumor but you started photographing and recording everything after the doctor told you your days were numbered. You scroll down until you reach the bottom of the file and click on the first picture. It's a photo Maverick took the day you told them the truth. You could see Jake's red eyes but he was smiling for the picture, for you. You were between him and Natasha and the others were aligned, smiling at the camera. You slide left and you smile even more. This one was taken just seconds after the first one, unless you weren't all aligned correctly and looking at the camera. You were wholeheartedly laughing, head thrown back as your friends all squished you in a group hug. You lock your phone and look up at the game in front of you. You wouldn't dream of anything better than this. You grab your drink and take a sip, never looking away from your friends.

[tgm-all4one]

On May 27, 2022, Top Gun: Maverick was released exclusively into theaters. Almost overnight, it became a cultural phenomenon with a fandom of individuals from all over the globe who loved the movie and its characters.

One of the fantastic things about the TG and TGM fandom is the diverse and innovative creators who have used these movies as inspiration for their art. Whether that be in the form of writing, fanart, GIFs, moodboards, edits, etc, we have all taken the same 4 hours and 1 minute of film to create unbelievably varied and original content. And that is what this challenge is about.

What is the "It's not the prompt. It's the creator." challenge?

The idea behind the "It's not the prompt. It's the creator." challenge is to show that even though we might all use similar tropes or AUs, or create GIFs of the same scenes, or use the same moodboard themes, it is our own personal creativity, innovation, and preferences that make our work unique.

So unlike other challenges, everyone will be using the exact same prompt. That's it. One prompt. And an unlimited amount of participants.

And yes, there will probably be art that is similar (either the tropes, themes, characters, etc), however the point is to show that even when two creators have similar independent ideas, their final creation is unique because they put their own original spin on it that only they could do.

What is the prompt?

To celebrate the one-year anniversary of Top Gun: Maverick being released, the prompt is:

"Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time."

Be as creative as you want and feel free to use any characters from Top Gun (1986) and/or Top Gun: Maverick (2022). Also, while the prompt says a year has passed, there is no set time your art has to be set. It can be pre-canon, post-canon, during-canon, and AU setting, etc. Whatever inspires you!

What is allowed?

Whatever you want. It can be SFW, NSFW, slash, reader insert, OC, no relationship, poly, AU, fluff, smut, angst, whump, etc.

You can also use whatever your preferred medium is to fill the prompt. Writing, artworks, GIF sets, edits, moodboards, playlists, Pinterest boards, etc. Or think out of the box and build a scene out of Legos, make a stop-motion video, draw a flipbook. Whatever inspires you and your creativity! If you created it, it counts.

And there are no minimums or maximums limits for words, time, number of GIFs, etc. Just however much or little you want to share, even if it is still a WIP.

There are only three requirements:

TAG YOUR WORK APPROPRIATELY so others can filter out what they might not be comfortable with. Each post will be checked before being reblogged, however, mistakes can be made so please tag them correctly.

You must be 18+ to participate. Due to the freedom of the event and the fact NSFW content is allowed, only those 18 or older may participate. And if your blog does not have any age indicated on it (18+, 20s, over 21, 35, etc.), your post will not be reblogged. I am very sorry to any minors hoping to participate at this time.

No AI resources can be used as part of a submission. While AI can create cool works of art, they aren't your works of art. As that is the point of this challenge, it will not be permitted.

When does the event take place?

The event will start on Saturday, May 27 and run until Saturday, June 4. However, if you can't finish in time and post after that, this blog will try its best to still reblog your work whenever you feel ready to post.

How do we submit our work?

You can do this one of two ways:

Post your work on your blog as usual and tag @tgm-all4one. Also, tag the post with #tgm all4one. It will then be reblogged here throughout the week.

Submit a post to this blog using the "Submit your papers" button in the blog header. As long as it is tagged correctly, the blog will then post it throughout the week.

There is also an AO3 collection if you prefer to share over there. Please check the FAQ page for the link.

Please check out the FAQ page if you have any questions and please feel free to reach out either through an ask or DM if you have any questions! There is also a condensed version of this post here for quick reference.

I am excited to see what everyone comes up with and happy Top Gun: Maverick anniversary!

[blurredcolour]

You Left Your Name On My Lips

“It's Not The Prompt. It's The Creator." Challenge

Prompt: "Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time.”

Summary: A rare professional opportunity reignites painful memories of what seems was never meant to be.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Death in Retrospect, Discussion of Loss and Grief, Discussion of Graves, Military Inaccuracies, Political Inaccuracies, Several References to January 6 Capitol Riots, Minor Reader Injury, Blood, Hospital Setting, Brief Discussion of Prosthetics, References to Sad Maverick, Medal Ceremony, Surprise Ending. Rating - T.

Credit: Paramount Pictures

Author's Note: Reader has no gender or physical descriptions. Pronouns are used a few times as they/them. All images contain image descriptions for accessibility. Thank you very much for reading and happy one year anniversary to Top Gun Maverick!

Word Count: 7505

“You left your name on my lips, everyone I meet knows I loved you…” – Katherine Perez (@s.h.e.ispoetry)

The late afternoon thunderstorm broke over West Executive Avenue just as you left the safety of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building, hastening your steps into a run while you darted across the street toward the West Wing. As a member of the speech writing staff, you found yourself traversing this route often throughout the workday, but rarely at the direct request of the Deputy Communications Director.

Pressing the notebook in your hand into service as a make-shift umbrella, you hitched your laptop bag higher onto your shoulder and dashed into the building. You took a moment to ensure you looked presentable before signing in with security and heading towards the Communications bullpen. You paused at the corner of Ben Simkin’s desk, waiting for the Assistant to the Deputy Communications Director to finish his phone call so he could tell you how many minutes late your meeting would be.

“Looks like you just beat the rain.” Ben said as the phone rattled home into its cradle. “She’s only five minutes late so you can come right in.” He stood and led you through the open office door.

“Thanks, Ben. Definitely got in here at the right time…” You muttered, watching the deluge cascade against the windowpane.

“I saw you’re on holidays next week, going anywhere exciting?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe to indulge in a moment of friendly conversation.

You had always enjoyed Ben’s personable warmth. Particularly in contrast to the brusque efficiency of Faith Watson, the woman who shared administrative duties for the Communications team. It was always a good day when you got a reply from Ben rather than her.

“Just back to visit the family, they are constantly complaining they don’t see enough of me. I don’t see enough of me…” The pair of you shared a laugh before his line began to ring again and he hurried out to answer it quickly.

A flash of lightning flickered through the dimly lit office, thunder cracking and rumbling promptly in its wake as you settled into one of the chairs across the empty desk. Your thoughts turned back to the possible reasons why you had been summoned here when your eyes skidded to a halt on the file folder resting on the cluttered yet orderly desktop. The three letters scrawled in a black marker sorely in need of an ink refill sucked the moisture from your mouth, making you squirm in your chair uneasily.

MOH

“So sorry to keep you waiting.” Your boss suddenly burst into the room, and you stood quickly as she turned on a few more lights to fight off the gloom of the storm.

“N, not at all. How can I help?” You asked quickly, sitting as she assumed her seat behind the desk and gestured for you to sit as well.

You watched with trepidation as her hand stretched out to land on the very same folder that had evoked such a physical reaction within you just moments before. Shit.

“As you’re well aware, we have a Medal of Honor ceremony coming up this Friday. I’ve just gone through the latest draft of the speech and Michael has done a wonderful job, but it is missing…. something. Some sense of who the Lieutenant Commander was.”

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips nervously as you tried to take steady breaths, nodding to show that you were listening as you held your notebook on your lap in a ruthless grip.

“It’s my understanding that you knew him?” She tilted her head, eyeing you thoughtfully as you slowly nodded, wondering from exactly where this information had reached her.

“Yes, I did.” You somehow managed to voice.

“I know this is perhaps an impossible ask, but given your talent with words as well as your personal insight, I was hoping you might agree to take a pass at it?” She tented her fingers in front of her lips, assessing your reaction thoughtfully.

There was a reason she was sitting behind that desk. She had just made an incredibly difficult request wrapped within a compliment and tied with the bow of a professional opportunity. And while your initial, visceral reaction was to refuse, the rational and professional part of your brain interceded.

“I would be honored, ma’am.” You nodded, wishing your voice sounded more confident, but still thrilled that you had been able to speak.

“Thank you. I consider this a personal favor and will not forget it.” She glanced back at the rain pelting against the windowpane behind her and frowned. “Why don’t you get Ben to find you somewhere in the West Wing to work on this. A lot of people will have left for the day, and we need to get this finalized as quickly as possible.”

“Thank you, I will get started right away…” You gulped and reached out for the folder, tucking it close against your body as you tried to leave her office at a reasonable pace instead of the headlong flee that was burning to be released from the muscles of your legs. “Ben?” You cleared your throat as your voice came out slightly brittle and shaky. “Do you think you can find me a hole in the wall somewhere in this building?”

He raised an eyebrow before turning to his computer, clicking around. You raised your own eyes to the ceiling above you, calling upon whatever higher beings you could think of to grant you strength and patience.

“Follow me.” He said at last, though in truth it had been a sum total of forty-five seconds, before he led you through a maze of corridors and down a set of stairs into a plain office. “Usually held in reserve for the Deputy Chief of Staff’s Office…they are clearly not using it right now…You ok?” He eyed you skeptically and you swallowed tightly, offering a nod and a tight smile.

“Just in for a late night is all.” You clarified.

“Well, the kitchen is open for another two hours so maybe get some food now.” He advised. “Or you’ll be eating a hot dog on the corner, and you’ll never find this room again.”

The laugh that his comment pulled from you brought with it faint relief from the tension you had been carrying since your meeting and you nodded, setting your things on the dated wooden desk.

“Thank you, Ben. Have a good night.”

The door shut behind him with a careful click as you went about setting up your laptop, connecting to the network, and settling into the questionably supportive chair before at last you had no choice but to turn your attention to the file folder you had been dutifully ignoring. As you loaded the word processing file of the speech from your email, you tugged the packet closer. Opening it slowly revealed a copy of the medal citation and other documents pertaining to the ceremony on the left side, while the redacted Naval personnel file of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw lay on the right.

With unsteady fingers, you moved to lift the personnel file before suddenly losing your nerve, curling your fingers back into a fist and turning instead to read over the medal citation.

The words blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors behind the tears that flooded your eyes, refusing to be blinked away any longer. Everything had changed that day, just over a year ago, when Bradley Bradshaw had sacrificed his life to save everyone on board the aircraft carrier upon which he had been serving. You had found out a week later, along with the rest of the world, when the news broke on CNN. Truthfully, as his ex, you had not been entitled to anything more.

The cold hard truth that your relationship, ended by mutual decision in the late fall of 2020, was well over, had not made his death any easier to bear. It had, rather, clarified a fact you had been desperately trying to deny – you were still very much in love with the man and ending your relationship based on your diverging career paths and the 2,500 miles between you had been the worst mistake of your life. And now he was never going to come home.

Slumping over the back of the chair, you sealed your palm over your mouth as the sobs rose in your throat, unbidden yet unstoppable. Hot tears spilled from your eyes, scorching their way up along your temples as each exhale wracked your body with grief that remained as raw and unresolved one year on. His absence from this earth had created a jagged chasm in the pit of your stomach – one that refused to be filled or covered over no matter how hard you worked or what failed relationships you had pursued.

Grounding yourself by digging your heels into aggregate flooring and sinking the nails of your free hand into the distressed wood on the underside of the desktop, you managed to slow your breaths. To cram the agony of your grief back into its cage beneath your breastbone, leaving you an exhausted wreck in the gathering dark of your borrowed, subterranean office. You searched through your laptop bag, hoping you might have saved some napkins from that last time you’d eaten out, but you were disappointed to find nothing more than a few pens.

Seriously considering wiping your face on your shirtsleeves, you looked up startled at the knock on the door before Ben’s face appeared through the small gap as he opened it. He tutted gently as he took in your barely recovered composure.

“I thought as much.” He murmured gently before sliding into the room with a box of tissues, a tray of drinks, and two takeout containers.

“Ben…you are a saint…” You croaked and paused, not sure which of the items he set on the desk you wanted the most before ultimately settling on the tissues.

Turning slightly in your chair, you made quick work of mopping your face and blowing your nose as discreetly as possible in the small space afforded in the office. After discarding the used tissues, your next priority was a cold beverage, sighing deeply after you took your first sip.

“You even got my favourite.”

He grinned proudly, snacking on French fry from his meal, having settled into the only other chair in the room.

“I could just tell…”

“A saint, Ben.” You reaffirmed before carefully tucking into the meal he had procured for you.

A few bites in you remembered yourself and quickly fished out your phone, sending him a funds transfer for the food.

“Oh, that wasn’t…” He muttered after he checked the resulting notification on his phone. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You sniffed thoughtfully, swallowing your bite as you shook your head.

“I’m not, but I still really appreciate this, Ben.”

“So, you didn’t…just know him did you…” He asked hesitantly and you paused with a bite of food raised to your lips before taking the food into your mouth and shaking your head again.

“No Ben,” You clarified after swallowed. “I was very much in love with Bradley Bradshaw. Still am I suppose, even though he’s…gone…” The final word of your sentence seemed to catch in your throat reluctantly, and you coughed a little to force it out.

Ben frowned deeply and looked over the folder laying open on the desk.

“I’ll talk to her, there’s no way she can ask this of you…”

“No! No, I…I agreed to do it, it’s an opportunity to touch a Presidential speech directly and independently. I don’t get those very often Ben. And I. It’s something I can do for him, one last time.” Your throat constricted again ominously so you nodded, hoping that sufficiently rounded out the thought you were trying to communicate.

Ben inhaled deeply, holding his breath in inflated cheeks, before exhaling it through pursed lips as he nodded.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He tilted his head.

“This,” you gestured at your nearly completed meal, “has already helped more than I can say. Thank you.”

His soft smile was a balm to your aching heart – by no means a cure, but it had a soothing effect.

“Did you want to talk about him?”

“I don’t think. I don’t think that I can quite yet, Ben. Maybe someday? I’d like to…someday….”

“When you’re ready then.” He stood to collect the remnants of your meal, moving toward the door. “Are you alright if I head home?”

“Please do! You really didn’t have to stay for me. But thank you.” You nodded and he smiled warmly before stepping out, leaving you to the quiet of the office.

Taking a few deep breaths, you put some background music on your phone to help you focus on the task at hand before pulling up the speech to review what had been written thus far. The Deputy Director had not been wrong, there was a dimension missing. Typically, interviews were conducted with the honoree’s family, but Bradley had no close family left to speak for him. You knew that one of the main reasons he had chosen to stay out in California, rather than returning to Virginia, had been to reconnect with Maverick – Captain Mitchell, but he did not seem to be a man of many words.

At least he had not been that night when he showed up at your apartment door bearing a handwritten letter from Bradley. It had taken him several weeks to track you down; your personal details including phone number and address were unlisted for your safety and security. Working in politics had taken on an entirely different level of risk after January 6, 2021, but even before that you had made the choice to be as difficult to find as possible.

He had not had much to say as he stood there in his dress blues, other than to confirm your name and give you his condolences. He had delivered some prescribed line about Bradley’s bravery before disappearing down the stairs of your building, leaving you with the worn envelope, your name scrawled on the front in Bradley’s handwriting.

Shaking your head to physically clear the thoughts from your mind, you turned your focus back to the cursor in your word document, blinking at you expectantly, before beginning to type out an additional paragraph.

Words fall utterly short when we try to describe who someone was. We must look to their deeds. The words “Reckless disregard for personal safety” in his citation are striking. Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw had a history of fearless determination. He was unafraid of pursuing his goals despite any obstacles in his path, and twenty-two-months prior to the events of July 2022 was fully prepared to lay down his life for his superior officer.

“He even risked disciplinary action to call his ex from work during the Capitol Riots of January 6…” You sniffled aloud, shaking your head fondly.

You had been working for a prominent Senator during that time, doing some paperwork when the crowd infiltrated the Capitol building. Alone in the office, the rest of your colleagues in the chamber staffing the Senator, you had been frozen by panic and uncertainty. The unexpected vibration of your cellphone on your desk had been jarring, particularly when Bradley’s name accompanied it on the screen.

You had taken the call, whispering beneath the Senator’s desk, and he had talked you through barricading the door, through making the office appear unoccupied. You had heard someone begin to reprimand him on his end of the line, but he had continued to speak to you calmly, reassuringly.

“You’re going to be alright, just keep low, keep quiet, and keep that umbrella in your hands, ok?”

“O…k…ok Bradley.” You had whispered, not sounding nearly as sure as he had.

“I have to go now…” He had apologized gently.

“You’re damn right you do, Lieutenant Commander!” You had heard the sharp bark of his superior much closer this time.

“Thank you!” You had risked a little more volume to give him your emphatic gratitude before ending the call, feeling somewhat more prepared to deal with whatever might come down the hall.

It was the last time you had spoken to him.

You realized now that you should have called him back, but at that the time life had been moving so fast. As soon as the building was made safe, the voting had resumed. And then the transition team had called offering a position on the speech writing staff in the White House. The whirlwind of activity had been shifted into a higher gear of intensity at that point until the next time you looked up was to watch the report of his death on CNN.

Filled with a sudden curiosity, you turned to his personnel file, gnawing on your lower lip as you leafed through the papers contained within. You let out a gasp when you came across the notation that a nonpunitive letter of caution was delivered to him on January 7, 2021. While the contents of these letters were typically private, it was not hard to guess just what message Bradley’s superior officer had delivered to him.

“Oh Bradley…” You sighed fondly, shaking your head before turning back to your keyboard with renewed inspiration.

After two hours of writing, shaping, and polishing, you felt confident enough to submit your version of the speech to the Deputy Director. Sending the email, you carefully packed up your laptop before tucking the contents of the Bradley’s personnel file and citation back into the ceremony folder with a quiet reverence.

Stopping by her office, you were not surprised to see her still there working away. You dropped off the folder and wished her a good night. The rain had let up during your time working underground, leaving a blissfully cool evening, free of the usual summer humidity. Due to the late hour, public transit was quieter on your commute home, and your street almost tranquil. Dropping your keys and bills from your mailbox on the kitchen counter, you found your steps leading you to your bedside table of their own volition, filled with a desire to reread Bradley’s last words to you.

You sat on the edge of you bed, turning on the lamp there, and fished the worn envelope out from the bottom of the drawer. Carefully unfolding the familiar creases, you traced your eyes along his slanting penmanship.

Tilting your head back to prevent any stray tears from soiling the paper, the idea to laminate the pages to preserve them flitted through your mind once again. And yet the idea of putting a barrier between you and his words remained so off-putting that you shook you head. You carefully tucked it away for next time, dragging your tired mind and body to the shower.

The final draft of the speech was presented at the Communications team meeting the next afternoon, accompanied by your heart hammering beneath your ribs and a knowing grin from the Deputy Director. It was your version, untouched from the night before. There was no formal announcement, no by-line, but the people who needed to know, knew the authors of that speech. And you were indisputably one of them. As you were making your way out of the room, your boss stopped you, extending an invitation to the ceremony on Friday.

“I recognize it might be difficult…” She stated, giving you an out, but you took a breath to steel your resolve and shook your head.

“I’d be honored to attend, thank you.”

“Wonderful, I’ll have Ben set it up in your calendar.” She smiled before excusing herself to answer a call on her cell.

The building was a flurry of activity the day of the ceremony. The sheer extent of it – uniformed personnel and staff rushing through the lobby, the buzz of conversation – set your teeth on edge as you stepped into the West Wing that morning. Rather than making your way directly to your meeting, you decided to stop by Ben’s desk as he had an innate talent for picking up on the root cause of chaos as this seemed far beyond the usual for this type of occasion.

As you entered the Communications bullpen, his eyes widened when they met yours and he hardly seemed aware of the phone receiver pressed to his ear, belatedly uttering an apology before ending the call. He glanced around before lurching to his feet and grasping your elbow, pulling you into the notably empty Deputy Director’s office.

“You should sit.” He said with no preamble.

“Good morning, Ben, it’s lovely to see you too. I had a good sleep thank you for asking.” You greeted him with plenty of sass and a raised eyebrow.

You were already feeling snappish this morning, nerves frayed by excess emotion, and whatever sudden onslaught of chivalry he was experiencing was unwelcome.

“I’m sorry. The ceremony today has been postponed indefinitely.” He frowned, gesturing at one of the empty chairs hopefully but you shook your head as your stomach sank.

“Indefinitely? I don’t understand. These things don’t get postponed, they are thoroughly researched and perfected and…what on earth happened?!” You realized your volume had gradually increased to reach something akin to a shout as he winced, and you frowned. “Sorry…”

“You’re not going to sit, are you…” He sighed and you shook your head impatiently.

“Ben…” You said warningly.

“Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw has been located alive in Kuwait and was air lifted to hospital in Germany during the night.”

You realized that Ben’s lips continued moving after the word ‘alive’, but your ears were filled with a dull buzzing. All of the blood in your body felt as though it seeped out of the soles of your feet into the plush office carpet, and you crumpled to the floor.

The bright glare of the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and Ben’s frantic face greeted your return to consciousness and you hissed at the pain in your right cheek, reaching a hand up to find a tender spot. Your fingers came away smeared faintly with blood.

“You clipped the corner of the desk on the way down…are you ok?!” He looked you over quickly, finding a tissue to press against your cut.

“I think…I think so. Ben. Repeat what you said…” You looked to him, terrified to be optimistic.

“He’s alive.” He could barely contain his grin, squeezing your shoulders as he punctuated the statement with your name. “He’s alive, after all this time, he was hiding somewhere and…I don’t have all the details yet, but…they obviously want to put the medal around his neck once they get him home.” He looked around suddenly. “But you! You should call in sick right now and buy a ticket to Germany. Go. Go to him.”

Your eyes whirled around the room, trying to find something to focus on to help you process the fact that man you had just help eulogize in a Presidential speech had in fact survived his act of reckless disregard for personal safety. Ben pulled the tissue away from your cheek and your eyes were drawn to the bright red contrasting sharply against the white between his fingers. Everything seemed to crystalize in your mind, and you looked to him quickly.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah, you do.” He grinned wider. “I’ll start texting you flights, get out of here.” He quickly slapped a bandage onto your cheek from the nearby first aid kit before shooing you out of the office.

You darted back to your desk, leaving your sick message on the Deputy Director’s voicemail and texting Ben that you had done so. He replied that it was duly entered into the attendance log and then spammed your phone with flight deals. You got home, throwing together a suitcase and grabbing your passport within an hour, flight booked to leave in three hours. Turning around quickly, you changed out of your suit into something more appropriate for a long-haul flight, before heading to the airport.

Six hours later, you found yourself pushing long-cooled airplane food around its sectioned tray as your eyes stared unseeing at the movie on the screen in the back of the headrest in front of you. Your mind was too busy mulling over the improbability, the impossibility, of it all to focus on the film you had chosen to distract yourself, the meal you had chosen from the options on the flight attendant’s cart.

How, in this era of hyper-interconnectedness, had a Bradley gone unfound for over a year? You knew from his citation that his was the only American plane in the air at the time, from the investigation records that they only had radar and radio communications to rely upon to detail the events before his plane crashed. Courtesy of those same records, you knew a covert operation had been undertaken to examine the crash site in enemy territory. That some form of remains had been recovered, identified, and buried in Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in San Diego.

Yet the postponement of a Medal of Honor ceremony was unprecedented. It would not have occurred on the basis of mere speculation or rumor. Ben’s report that Bradley was alive must be true, but how it was possible was entirely beyond your comprehension.

Landing in Frankfurt at five thirty in the morning local time, you were then faced with nearly three hours of public transportation before you finally arrived at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center. You had barely slept or eaten, but Ben’s bandage was still securely in place on your cheek. At least that was something in your favour.

After all you had overcome to arrive at the nursing station in Germany, you had not expected to be thwarted by a dour-faced Army sergeant.

“Are you family?”

“Well, no, not exactly but I…”

“Authorized personnel and family only.” He replied firmly, looking down his hawkish nose at you and you frowned down at the flecked pattern on the worn laminate countertop.

“Add them to the list, they are family.” A voice interceded from the other side of the l-shaped desk, and you lifted your eyes quickly to see Captain Mitchell standing there. “Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw will want to see them.”

He looked younger than the last time you had seen him. As though the weight of the entire Navy had been lifted off his shoulders. There was, perhaps, even the trace of a smile in his eyes as he nodded for you to hand over your passport so the long-suffering sergeant could add you to the list of approved visitors.

“His room is this way, come on.” He tilted his head toward the wide, sterile hallway and you found your feet rooted to the spot, unable to take another step after flying thousands of miles on the word of your colleague. “Truly. He will want to see you.” Captain Mitchell assured you and, swallowing roughly, you found the will to propel your body into motion once more.

Captain Mitchell stepped into the room first and you carefully set your luggage in one of the chairs by the door, inhaling sharply as you heard a voice you thought had been silenced forever.

“Heya Mav, thought you were going for coffee…” Bradley rasped.

“Found something better on the way…” He turned to the side to reveal you, standing there like a deer in headlights, staring at a very alive Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw.

He was thinner than the last time you had seen him, having endured who knows what hardships in the name of survival over the past twelve months. His normally tan skin had lost its glow too, most likely from the necessity of hiding, and his customarily trimmed moustache had expanded down his cheeks and jaw into a full beard. Lack of sunlight had kept his chestnut hair dark as well, grown long in luscious waves. Yet he was still unmistakably the man that kept a firm hold over your heart, long frame barely fitting on the bed, propped up in a sitting position beneath a white and blue flannel hospital sheet.

Your name fell from his lips in a whisper, and he looked quickly between you and Captain Mitchell.

“You sure I’m not dead?”

Blinking rapidly as tears threatened to flood your vision, you and Captain Mitchell shook your heads at the same time.

“No Rooster, you’re definitely alive, they’re definitely here, and I’m definitely going for that coffee now.” Captain Mitchell excused himself and you walked over to the hospital bed slowly, trying to remember how to breathe. In and then out.

You did not need to faint again, especially not in front of Bradley.

“Hi…” You said quietly, feeling suddenly shy. Even draped over a hospital bed after a year of being declared dead Bradley was still the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes upon. Even with a full beard. Perhaps especially…

He held out his hand to you and you quickly took it between both of yours, sighing softly at the reassuring warmth of his skin as he guided you even closer to his bedside. With his free hand, he reached up to run his fingers along the bandage across your cheek.

“What happened?” He frowned.

You huffed a self-deprecating laugh and shook your head.

“Close encounter with a desk while fainting.” You muttered. “Are you ok?”

“You fainted? When?” He looked you over, concern knitting his brows tighter.

Typical Bradley, ignoring any concern you might have for him. Unchanged in the least.

“About…fourteen hours ago, I suppose?” You grimaced.

“Because of me.” He said flatly and you conceded with a nod. “I’m sorry…”

“Please…Don’t apologize, it was the best news. I…I just happened to fold like a deck chair.”

His lips twitched into a grin which you echoed happily.

“Such a softie.” He teased.

“I’ll have you know I fought off the QAnon Shaman with that umbrella, thank you.” You boasted playfully.

He squinted at you quizzically and you registered that perhaps he was not quite well enough for that level of humor.

“Not really, I was removed to a safe room shortly after our call. Thank you again Bradley. Thank you for taking the time to write me that letter, as well. For asking Captain Mitchell to bring it to me. It meant a lot.” Your voice trembled, betraying your heightened emotions.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry I was such a moron and never said any of those things to you until I thought I was going to die.”

Shaking your head quickly you lifted his hand, still clasped between yours, and kissed the tips of his fingers.

“I’m just as guilty…I mean I technically haven’t even apologized to you in return. I wrote you a letter in reply, but I left it in San Diego...at…” You trailed off not wanting to discuss the gravesite you had visited. “I love you. I never stopped and I’m sorry I was also so stupid…” Your voice wavered with emotion as you forced yourself to meet his gaze.

“I love you, too.” He murmured and shifted his hand between yours to lace your fingers together tightly. “There was never a pair of idiots better suited for each other.”

You laughed tearfully, wiping at your eyes with the cuff of your sleeve and shaking your head.

“Never.” You agreed. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything?” You asked, looking around the anonymous, off-white room filled with the typical hospital equipment. It could have been located anywhere in the world, for how similar it looked to every hospital room you had ever had the misfortune to see.

“Yeah…come here…” He crooked the index and middle fingers of his free hand, gesturing you closer.

You immediately leaned over the railing of his bed, shifting closer.

“What is it?” You asked, wanting to be of assistance.

“A kiss.” He grinned, slipping his fingers around the back of your neck as soon as you were within his reach.

“Oh.” You murmured, eyes flicking up to meet his warm, whisky-colored gaze, before assisting him in closing the distance.

It was tentative at first, a gentle brush of mouths that sent a familiar rush of warmth through your veins and had your breath shuddering against his damp lips. His breath caught audibly in his throat before he tugged you closer, pulling your lips to his firmly as you pressed your still-entwined hands into the mattress beside his head to brace yourself. The fingers of your other hand delved greedily into his longer-than-usual curls, relishing in their silky feel as he rumbled happily against your lips.

Finding your synchronized rhythm after all these years, both of your lips parted to deepen the kiss. You sighed deeply at the familiar taste that was unmistakably his, mixed with the salty tang of tears as one or both of you were crying. A deliberate knock and polite cough had you tensing before pulling back quickly, untangling your fingers from his hair carefully before stepping back to allow what looked like a team of doctors to enter the room.

You slipped out into the hall when they initiated their exam, wanting to give him his full privacy, and sank into one of the chairs near the desk where the unpleasant sergeant offered you a glare before turning back to his work. The output of energy, and ebb of adrenaline, caught up to you then and you found your eyelids sinking heavily as you rested your chin on your palm, elbow balanced on the arm rest, dozing until one of the medical team gently shook you awake.

“Sorry. Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is asking for you…” She apologized as you blinked up at her sleepily, but you smiled quickly and shook your head, heading back into the room again, noting that Bradley’s countenance was more serious than when you had parted.

An empty food tray sat on the bedside table – you had apparently slept through meal delivery.

“Everything ok?” You asked quietly, carrying one of the empty chairs over to sit beside his bed as he looked you over, sighing softly. You noticed the team had dropped the side rail on his bed and left it lowered, making him more easily accessible to you.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation of where I’ve been. Of what happened.”

“Bradley, you owe me absolutely nothing. You can share with me whatever you wish whenever you are ready but there is no obligation involved.” You frowned, reaching for his hand, which he squeezed softly as he stroked his beard thoughtfully with the other.

“Let me start with the fact that I am not unscathed? I…You went to my grave, you all but said as much.” You nodded guiltily in reply, and he squeezed your hand against reassuringly. “I left a piece of myself behind in that plane, after the missile hit, before I could eject.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, looking him over as he looked pretty whole to you, until your eyes trailed lower, and you noticed only one peak at the end of the bed when there ought to be two. Your eyes widened as your heart rate picked up, but you did your best to take a steady breath and assume a neutral expression before turning back to him.

“Your leg?” You asked gently.

“My left foot.” He confirmed with a nod, voice tight. “I assume that’s what they found and used as confirmation of my death. There’s not an awful lot left usually when we burn in. That’s what is probably buried in San Diego.”

“I’m so sorry, Bradley…” You shifted to stand, sliding your arms around him in a careful hug, pressing your cheek against the top of his hair as he buried his face in your neck.

You held him reassuringly, hands pressing into his back soothingly as his arms wrapped around your waist, clinging to you until his heavy breaths evened out and he leaned back to look up at you.

“They have to do more surgery, to properly fit a prosthetic. A sympathetic family found me, cauterized it, kept me alive, moved me around to other like-minded people until they could smuggle me to Kuwait…It’s never stopped hurting…” He whispered and you frowned softly, kissing his forehead.

“Oh Bradley…” You whispered in reply, arms tightening around him protectively, wishing you could bear just a little of his burden, ease even a fraction of his pain.

He lay his head against your chest, and you lifted a hand to stroke his hair soothingly.

“They want me to get stronger and then they’ll send me state side for surgery and rehab…they’re thinking Walter Reed…”

You hummed thoughtfully, trying not to take too much pleasure in the thought of him being in Maryland.

“It’s a good hospital.”

“Close to you.”

“I’d come as much as possible. You’d be welcome to come stay with me if you need a place.” You murmured, noting how his torso was growing heavier against you. “Why don’t we lay you down, hmmm?” You suggested softly and he nodded, complying sleepily.

You rearranged his blankets carefully to tuck him in, settling into the chair at his bedside and taking his hand, watching as he fought with his heavy eyelids.

“Shhh rest, Bradley, it’s ok.”

“Stay…?” He asked, eyes flashing open one last time to lock onto yours pleadingly.

“Of course I’ll stay.” You nodded and squeezed his hand, smiling as he nodded back, surrendering to his exhaustion and falling asleep.

You were not far behind, laying your head on the bed beside your clasped hands, letting sleep overtake you as well.

You awoke to the feel of warm, calloused fingertips stroking down your jaw, your lips curling up at the corners at the pleasant sensation before you forced your eyes open in the low light of the hospital room. Any sense of time had abandoned you somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, but it was still dark outside the windows and a glance around the room revealed a sleeping Captain Mitchell, slumped back in the other chair near the door.

Looking back to Bradley, who’s touch had roused you, he mouthed a soft sorry, to which you shook your head in reply.

“You ok?” You whispered.

“Hungry.” He confessed and you smirked a little.

“I’ll find something ok?”

He nodded gratefully and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before easing your stiff body from its less-than-ergonomic position in your chair. You both shared a wide-eyed look at the crack your neck emitted, glancing over at Maverick, who thankfully slept through it all. You stopped by the nursing station, grateful to find a friendly lieutenant on duty who directed you to a vending machine with sandwiches at the end of the hall.

Suddenly inspired to hunger of your own, you procured a few from the machine that thankfully accepted American currency before returning to the room to partake in your feast with Bradley. Once you’d cleared away the wrappers and the crumbs, he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“You said you wrote me a reply…did you save a copy?”

You swallowed and eyed him for a moment, wondering how it was possible for someone to know you so very well. While you had written the letter to him on compostable paper, hoping to leave as little an environmental footprint as possible, a part of you had needed to keep of a record of your words to him. Thus, you had taken a photo of your handwritten letter and saved it on your phone.

You pulled the device out of your pocket, ignoring the knowing grin on his features as you pulled it up, squinting a little at the intrusive brightness before holding it out for him to read in the dimly lit silence.

He raised his eyes as he came to the end, the glow of the screen causing the unshed tears in his eyes to shimmer. You leaned up to kiss his temple before whispering.

“I’d like to amend the ending…. You’re home now, thanks to every power in the universe, and whatever comes next, we get to figure it out together.”

He licked his lips slowly, setting your phone down on the worn flannel, before cupping your face to guide your mouth to meet his warmly.

When at last, nearly a year later, the President delivered his rewritten speech and secured the blue ribbon of the Medal of Honor around Lieutenant Commander Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw’s neck, you watched from the front row with a raised mark on your cheek. Bradley fondly referred to it as your ‘rescue mission battle scar’ and pressed his lips to it with delightful frequency, letting the whiskers of his once again neatly trimmed moustache tickle your cheek.

The seat you occupied was that of his beloved partner, rather than standing in the corner as an anonymous White House staffer. It was the seat that you had always been meant to occupy and one that would never willingly vacate again.

Top Gun Masterlist

@tgm-all4one

[ryebecca]

let’s fly away (ft. jake ‘hangman’ seresin) ✈️ ✨

After losing his wingman during a particularly harrowing mission, Jake Seresin made the tough choice to retire from his position as a Naval aviator. Unable to keep away from the skies, he continued his career as an airline pilot - in Texas, far from San Diego. Far from the Navy. And far from you.

You were the one who got away. The almost, but not quite. The one who never crossed that line. The one who was devastated when Jake Seresin left.

Back in San Diego for a Dagger Squad reunion, Jake sets foot in San Diego for the first time in five years. The Hard Deck is still there. So is dogfight football. So are his friends. So are the ghosts of those who are no longer with them. And to his surprise, so are you. Still beautiful. Still strong. But will he ever be able to call you his?

for @tgm-all4one!

[my-own-cure]

50 Minuten Entfernung is aber halt schon n bisschen weit so... das is irgendwie nix für mich

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Another Year, Another Chance

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Hangster

Summary: One year ago, Bradley took a chance on a new relationship but it quickly fell apart. Now, he is about to come face-to-face with Jake for the first time since he left and he has some questions that need to be answered.

Word Count: 2786

TW: Love Confession, Angst, Fluff, Kissing

Note: This was written as part of @tgm-all4one's "It's not the plane. It's the pilot." challenge as a celebration of the one-year anniversary of the release of Top Gun: Maverick. Thank you to @green-socks and @loverhymeswith for looking this over for me! I love you guys! 💕

It seemed unreal that exactly one year ago the Dagger Squad had gathered for the first time. Standing in The Hard Deck gathered around the pool table, no one could have predicted the friendships they would form or the dangers they would face over the next several weeks. Or that they would all be back in that same spot one year later.

Bradley smiled as he watched more and more people trickle into the bar. He was one of the few guests there who recognized practically every face whether they were those from Mav’s original Top Gun class like Slider, Wolfman, or Hollywood, those from his own Dagger Squad like Bob, Phoenix, or Coyote, or those from command like Cyclone, Warlock, and Hondo. Then of course there were Penny’s friends and family, but he had gotten to know most of them over this past year as well.

Mav and Penny were currently standing near the entrance to the bar as they greeted those arriving. As Mav wrapped his arm around Penny’s waist and kissed her head, he caught Bradley’s eye across the room. His godfather gave him a loving smile before turning back to his guests. It was still crazy to think that one year ago, the two men had just reunited after over a decade of barely speaking to one another. And yet here they were, working alongside each other every day and now Bradley was going to be the best man in Maverick’s wedding tomorrow. He just wished they could have settled their differences before they lost Ice. It would have meant so much to the Admiral to see them this close again. 

He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t notice as Phoenix walked over to where he was standing and leaned on the wall next to him. Raising her beer to her lips, she muttered, “Have you seen him yet?”

Instantly, his pleasant mood soured. Taking a long drag from his drink, he responded curtly, “Nope.”

He hoped that would put an end to the conversation, but he should have known better. “He’s gonna show up.” Phoenix nudged his shoulder. “If not for you, then for the extensive list of VIPs that are here. Do you really think he’d pass up the opportunity to rub elbows with all of these high-ranking officers?” 

“Yeah, well, if that’s the only reason he’s showing up, then he can just fuck off,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Roo…”

“No!” He pushed himself off the wall and turned to face her. “This is his last chance, Nat. I’m done pretending I’m okay waiting for him to grow up and make up his mind. If he shows up, fine, I’ll hear what he has to say. But if he doesn’t, it’s over.”

“Woah! Someone’s got their panties in a twist!”

Bradley whirled around to see Jake strolling up with that infuriating smug smirk of his and a bouquet of multicolored flowers in his hand. His hair was shorter than the last time Bradley had seen him and he was wearing a tank top that clung to his chest, low-rising board shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. He was seriously underdressed for the evening, but damn, Bradley had to admit he looked good. Not that he was going to tell him that.

Rolling her eyes, Phoenix scoffed. “Really? The invitation said semi-formal, not semi-effort. What are you wearing?”

Jake glared at her. “Oh, bite me, Phoenix. My flight got delayed and I came straight from the airport so I didn’t have time to change. Besides, this is just a rehearsal dinner, not the actual ceremony. And Bradshaw’s in one of those ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. That can’t be up to the dress code.”

Bradley folded his arms across his chest and snapped, “You always have to have an excuse for everything, don’t you, Hangman?”

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Phoenix cut him off. “Despite the poor choice of wardrobe, we’re glad you could make it. Who are the flowers for?”

His eyes flashed to Bradley, but then Jake refocused on Phoenix. “The bride, but I snuck in the back so I didn’t get a chance to give them to her yet.”

“Then you better hurry. They should be serving food any minute and I doubt Penny will have time to talk to you then.” Bradley grabbed Phoenix’s arm and began to lead her over toward the other side of the bar. “We’ll see you around.”

As they walked away, Bradley could feel the weight of Jake’s eyes on his back but he tried to ignore it and keep walking. When they reached the jukebox, Phoenix shrugged, “Well…. At least he showed up.”

He had. But Bradley still needed to find out why Jake was really here. Was it just for the wedding, or could it be he was here for something– someone –else too…..

After everyone had finished dinner and given their speeches, Bradley slipped out onto the deck. The cool ocean breeze felt refreshing against his skin and helped soothe the chaos currently swirling around in his head. 

He had been so preoccupied with best man duties for the last few hours, he barely had time to glance in Jake’s direction. However, that didn't stop the man from being a constant presence in his mind.  But then again, Jake had barely left his thoughts since the night after the Uranium mission……

Bradley had turned in early, exhausted from the harrowing events of the day. But just as he was on the edge of sleep, the door to his cabin opened and someone walked in. Bradley hadn’t reacted since he assumed it was Hangman heading to bed and he waited for the sounds of the other pilot climbing into the bunk above him. However, they never came. 

Concerned, Bradley groggily rolled over and he found Hangman crouched on the floor across from his bed staring at him. But before Bradley could ask him if he was alright, Hangman surged forward and slammed his lips against his. Completely taken by surprise and still half asleep, Bradley fell backward onto the mattress and Jake followed him, climbing onto the bed to straddle him. His kiss only intensified as his hands slid up to tangle in Bradley’s curls. It was only then that Bradley fully grasped what was going on and he made a decision. 

He kissed Hangman back.

The thought to do so had crossed his mind more than once these last few weeks, but Bradley had always brushed the idea to the side. After all, the two of them hated each other…. right? However, with his tongue down his throat, Bradley realized what he had felt was far from hate. He had just been too scared to admit it to himself. But now there was nothing holding him back. 

He slid his hands under Hangman’s t-shirt, his fingers dancing across the hard lines of his stomach and up to his chest where they swirled through his chest hair. Hangman finally broke off the kiss so Bradley could slip his shirt over his head, and Bradley took the opportunity to ask, “Why now? What changed?”

“You almost fucking died, Roo,” Jake grunted as he wrestled Bradley’s own shirt off of him. Panting slightly, he continued, “I thought I’d lost you. That I didn’t make it there in time. So, I need to feel you. To show myself you’re really still here. That I didn’t miss my chance for this.” And he pressed his lips against Bradley’s once more.

That night had been the first of what started out as a rather solid relationship. Jake seemed different after what happened and, as the weeks passed, Bradley started to let his guard down and truly open himself up to Jake. He should have known better.

“Can I join you?” 

As if summoned by his thoughts of the past, Jake hovered in the doorway behind Bradley waiting for permission to come onto the deck. Part of Bradley wanted to tell Jake to fuck off and leave him alone, but another part longed for him to wrap his arms around him and kiss him like he did that first night in his bunk. Back when everything was new and uncomplicated. 

Bradley nodded and Jake slipped out to stand beside him. 

“I saved one for you.” Jake leaned on the railing next to him and held out a single flower. It was the same shade of yellow as the paint on each of their helmets. “They were… they were actually all for you but I chickened out and said they were for Penny instead.”

“Yeah, well, I never really cared much about flowers,” Bradley muttered, but he took it anyway.

Jake smiled at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The two of them stood in silence for a while as they gazed out to the ocean, the only sounds the murmur of the crowd inside and the lapping of the waves on the shore. But finally, Jake spoke up. “I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me.”

“I went back and forth about it. At one point, I almost went to Mav to beg him to uninvite you.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I had questions I needed answered and I wanted to see if you’d actually show up or just bail like you usually do.”

Jake flinched but nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair. But I told you last year after the mission, I’ve changed. I’m not that guy anymore.”

Bradley snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you said….. Right before you left me for a new adventure.”

“It’s called a deployment. It’s not like I just left for the fun of it.”

“You had a position here, with me, with our friends. You could have stayed if you wanted to, but you chose to leave.” Bradley looked out into the ocean, hoping Jake couldn’t see the way his lip quivered slightly or how he had to blink away the tears that were forming. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I thought after the mission we moved past that. That month we spent together… I thought it meant something.”

“It did. It meant more than any relationship I’ve ever had. But that’s the problem.” Jake turned away from the railing as he ran his hand through his hair and walked over to the window. Staring at the people inside the bar, he said, “I’ve never been a ‘relationship’ kind of guy. I’m a ‘let’s have fun for a week-or-so’ kind of guy. And being with you…. It was the first time I could see myself thinking beyond that and it scared me. So when I got the opportunity to transfer, I took it and I’m sorry for that.”

Bradley let the silence between them linger for a moment before he whispered, “Did you think about me? About us?”

Jake sighed and Bradley heard his head thump against the window of the Hard Deck. “I tried not to. I thought if I could just put my head down and focus on my next mission, those feelings I had for you would go away. And it worked for a while.”

“And that’s why you stopped answering my calls and texts,” Bradley scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I should have known better than to trust you. But no. You said that we could make things work long distance. That what we had was still new but you wanted to keep exploring it. Then after a month, I barely heard from you and when I did, it was all about your latest mission or training exercises. You might have changed at first but the old Hangman came back and you cared more about your career and ego than anything else.” 

The two men stood in silence, their backs to one another. Whatever feelings they had last year were still there, rippling in the air around them. Bradley wanted Jake so much it hurt. But more than that, he needed Jake to want him back just as fiercely. He was no longer willing to settle for anything less. And it seemed as if Jake might have finally understood that.

Taking a deep breath, Jake said, “You’re right. This past year I’ve been trying to chase that high from last summer. To feel that rush and excitement and adrenaline I did when I was here. And it finally hit me last week. I’m not looking for the assignment or the danger that gave me that feeling. I’m looking for the person.” He chuckled dryly, “It’s not the plane. It’s the pilot, right? And I haven’t had the right pilot by my side for a year now. I need my wingman back….. I need you.”

Bradley’s heart skipped a beat, but it still wasn’t enough. Turning so his back was against the railing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So what? You want me to leave my position at Top Gun and get transferred to your squadron just because all of a sudden you had this great epiphany? Even if I agree to try things with you again– which I haven’t –I’m not leaving all of my friends, family, and a job I love on the off chance you don’t sabotage us again.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Jake turned to face Bradley, but he couldn’t meet his eye. “The real reason I was late tonight is because I was talking to Cyclone. Starting next month, I’m gonna be a Top Gun instructor. Just like you.”

Bradley blinked several times in quick succession. “Wh-what?”

“I’m not asking you to leave everything behind for me. I’m asking you to let me come home to you and try again.” Jake’s eyes lifted slowly until he was staring into Bradley’s eyes. “I messed up but I want to fix it. I want to fix us. And I know it won’t be like it was before, but I’m just asking for a chance. Because I fucking love you, Bradley Bradshaw. And I’m tired of trying to convince myself I don’t.”

Bradley could only stare at Jake with his jaw practically on the floor. He had considered a hundred different ways this conversation would go once he saw Jake again, but Jake confessing he loved him had never once crossed his mind. Even before Jake had left, neither one of them had used the “L” word though Bradley had considered it once or twice. But for Jake to be the first one to say it…..

As Bradley tried to absorb everything Jake had told him, Jake continued to wait, chewing on his lip as his eyes darted across Bradley’s face trying to get some idea of what he was feeling. But when he couldn’t see an answer, his shoulders slumped and he hung his head. Nodding softly, he said, “Yeah, I thought it was a long shot. But I had to try. I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding, Rooster.”

However, as he turned to leave, Bradley’s hand shot out and grabbed his. Jake’s eyes snapped up to Bradley’s face and the mustachioed man smiled. “I should hate you, you know. I should reject your offer and move on. But I can’t. Because I love you too, Jake.” 

Then he wrapped his arms around Jake’s waist and pulled him into a kiss.

It felt almost like that first time on Bradley’s bunk a year ago. The same desperation and heat fueled their motions. Jake’s hand wrapped around the back of Bradley’s neck and he pulled him even deeper into him while Bradley pushed Jake back against the wall of The Hard Deck. Everyone inside was probably staring at them through the window, but neither man gave a fuck at that moment. Right now, nothing existed besides the two of them.

Jake slipped his lips from Bradley’s and began trailing kisses across his jaw and down his throat. When he began sucking on the side of his neck, Bradley moaned, “Oh god, I’ve missed you.”

Lifting his head, Jake said, “Well, I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.” He began to lean forward again, but he looked at his watch as it made a soft buzz sound. A grin slowly spread across his face. “Midnight. Which means it’s now the anniversary of the mission. Do you remember what we did that night exactly one year ago?”

Bradley’s grin soon matched Jake’s. “I may not have a bunk handy but the backseat of my Bronco is about the same size.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jake slid his hand into Bradley’s and began pulling him towards the parking lot. “I want to make this another night you’ll never forget.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @sugarcoated-lame, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @chouricojr, @king-of-milf-lovers, @high-fidelities, @shaded-echoes-recs, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover,@startrekfangirl2233

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Another Year, Another Chance

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, Hangster

Summary: One year ago, Bradley took a chance on a new relationship but it quickly fell apart. Now, he is about to come face-to-face with Jake for the first time since he left and he has some questions that need to be answered.

Word Count: 2786

TW: Love Confession, Angst, Fluff, Kissing

Note: This was written as part of @tgm-all4one's "It's not the plane. It's the pilot." challenge as a celebration of the one-year anniversary of the release of Top Gun: Maverick. Thank you to @green-socks and @loverhymeswith for looking this over for me! I love you guys! 💕

It seemed unreal that exactly one year ago the Dagger Squad had gathered for the first time. Standing in The Hard Deck gathered around the pool table, no one could have predicted the friendships they would form or the dangers they would face over the next several weeks. Or that they would all be back in that same spot one year later.

Bradley smiled as he watched more and more people trickle into the bar. He was one of the few guests there who recognized practically every face whether they were those from Mav’s original Top Gun class like Slider, Wolfman, or Hollywood, those from his own Dagger Squad like Bob, Phoenix, or Coyote, or those from command like Cyclone, Warlock, and Hondo. Then of course there were Penny’s friends and family, but he had gotten to know most of them over this past year as well.

Mav and Penny were currently standing near the entrance to the bar as they greeted those arriving. As Mav wrapped his arm around Penny’s waist and kissed her head, he caught Bradley’s eye across the room. His godfather gave him a loving smile before turning back to his guests. It was still crazy to think that one year ago, the two men had just reunited after over a decade of barely speaking to one another. And yet here they were, working alongside each other every day and now Bradley was going to be the best man in Maverick’s wedding tomorrow. He just wished they could have settled their differences before they lost Ice. It would have meant so much to the Admiral to see them this close again. 

He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t notice as Phoenix walked over to where he was standing and leaned on the wall next to him. Raising her beer to her lips, she muttered, “Have you seen him yet?”

Instantly, his pleasant mood soured. Taking a long drag from his drink, he responded curtly, “Nope.”

He hoped that would put an end to the conversation, but he should have known better. “He’s gonna show up.” Phoenix nudged his shoulder. “If not for you, then for the extensive list of VIPs that are here. Do you really think he’d pass up the opportunity to rub elbows with all of these high-ranking officers?” 

“Yeah, well, if that’s the only reason he’s showing up, then he can just fuck off,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Roo…”

“No!” He pushed himself off the wall and turned to face her. “This is his last chance, Nat. I’m done pretending I’m okay waiting for him to grow up and make up his mind. If he shows up, fine, I’ll hear what he has to say. But if he doesn’t, it’s over.”

“Woah! Someone’s got their panties in a twist!”

Bradley whirled around to see Jake strolling up with that infuriating smug smirk of his and a bouquet of multicolored flowers in his hand. His hair was shorter than the last time Bradley had seen him and he was wearing a tank top that clung to his chest, low-rising board shorts, and a pair of flip-flops. He was seriously underdressed for the evening, but damn, Bradley had to admit he looked good. Not that he was going to tell him that.

Rolling her eyes, Phoenix scoffed. “Really? The invitation said semi-formal, not semi-effort. What are you wearing?”

Jake glared at her. “Oh, bite me, Phoenix. My flight got delayed and I came straight from the airport so I didn’t have time to change. Besides, this is just a rehearsal dinner, not the actual ceremony. And Bradshaw’s in one of those ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. That can’t be up to the dress code.”

Bradley folded his arms across his chest and snapped, “You always have to have an excuse for everything, don’t you, Hangman?”

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Phoenix cut him off. “Despite the poor choice of wardrobe, we’re glad you could make it. Who are the flowers for?”

His eyes flashed to Bradley, but then Jake refocused on Phoenix. “The bride, but I snuck in the back so I didn’t get a chance to give them to her yet.”

“Then you better hurry. They should be serving food any minute and I doubt Penny will have time to talk to you then.” Bradley grabbed Phoenix’s arm and began to lead her over toward the other side of the bar. “We’ll see you around.”

As they walked away, Bradley could feel the weight of Jake’s eyes on his back but he tried to ignore it and keep walking. When they reached the jukebox, Phoenix shrugged, “Well…. At least he showed up.”

He had. But Bradley still needed to find out why Jake was really here. Was it just for the wedding, or could it be he was here for something– someone –else too…..

After everyone had finished dinner and given their speeches, Bradley slipped out onto the deck. The cool ocean breeze felt refreshing against his skin and helped soothe the chaos currently swirling around in his head. 

He had been so preoccupied with best man duties for the last few hours, he barely had time to glance in Jake’s direction. However, that didn't stop the man from being a constant presence in his mind.  But then again, Jake had barely left his thoughts since the night after the Uranium mission……

Bradley had turned in early, exhausted from the harrowing events of the day. But just as he was on the edge of sleep, the door to his cabin opened and someone walked in. Bradley hadn’t reacted since he assumed it was Hangman heading to bed and he waited for the sounds of the other pilot climbing into the bunk above him. However, they never came. 

Concerned, Bradley groggily rolled over and he found Hangman crouched on the floor across from his bed staring at him. But before Bradley could ask him if he was alright, Hangman surged forward and slammed his lips against his. Completely taken by surprise and still half asleep, Bradley fell backward onto the mattress and Jake followed him, climbing onto the bed to straddle him. His kiss only intensified as his hands slid up to tangle in Bradley’s curls. It was only then that Bradley fully grasped what was going on and he made a decision. 

He kissed Hangman back.

The thought to do so had crossed his mind more than once these last few weeks, but Bradley had always brushed the idea to the side. After all, the two of them hated each other…. right? However, with his tongue down his throat, Bradley realized what he had felt was far from hate. He had just been too scared to admit it to himself. But now there was nothing holding him back. 

He slid his hands under Hangman’s t-shirt, his fingers dancing across the hard lines of his stomach and up to his chest where they swirled through his chest hair. Hangman finally broke off the kiss so Bradley could slip his shirt over his head, and Bradley took the opportunity to ask, “Why now? What changed?”

“You almost fucking died, Roo,” Jake grunted as he wrestled Bradley’s own shirt off of him. Panting slightly, he continued, “I thought I’d lost you. That I didn’t make it there in time. So, I need to feel you. To show myself you’re really still here. That I didn’t miss my chance for this.” And he pressed his lips against Bradley’s once more.

That night had been the first of what started out as a rather solid relationship. Jake seemed different after what happened and, as the weeks passed, Bradley started to let his guard down and truly open himself up to Jake. He should have known better.

“Can I join you?” 

As if summoned by his thoughts of the past, Jake hovered in the doorway behind Bradley waiting for permission to come onto the deck. Part of Bradley wanted to tell Jake to fuck off and leave him alone, but another part longed for him to wrap his arms around him and kiss him like he did that first night in his bunk. Back when everything was new and uncomplicated. 

Bradley nodded and Jake slipped out to stand beside him. 

“I saved one for you.” Jake leaned on the railing next to him and held out a single flower. It was the same shade of yellow as the paint on each of their helmets. “They were… they were actually all for you but I chickened out and said they were for Penny instead.”

“Yeah, well, I never really cared much about flowers,” Bradley muttered, but he took it anyway.

Jake smiled at that. “I’ll keep that in mind.” The two of them stood in silence for a while as they gazed out to the ocean, the only sounds the murmur of the crowd inside and the lapping of the waves on the shore. But finally, Jake spoke up. “I wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see me.”

“I went back and forth about it. At one point, I almost went to Mav to beg him to uninvite you.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I had questions I needed answered and I wanted to see if you’d actually show up or just bail like you usually do.”

Jake flinched but nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair. But I told you last year after the mission, I’ve changed. I’m not that guy anymore.”

Bradley snorted. “Yeah, that’s what you said….. Right before you left me for a new adventure.”

“It’s called a deployment. It’s not like I just left for the fun of it.”

“You had a position here, with me, with our friends. You could have stayed if you wanted to, but you chose to leave.” Bradley looked out into the ocean, hoping Jake couldn’t see the way his lip quivered slightly or how he had to blink away the tears that were forming. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I thought after the mission we moved past that. That month we spent together… I thought it meant something.”

“It did. It meant more than any relationship I’ve ever had. But that’s the problem.” Jake turned away from the railing as he ran his hand through his hair and walked over to the window. Staring at the people inside the bar, he said, “I’ve never been a ‘relationship’ kind of guy. I’m a ‘let’s have fun for a week-or-so’ kind of guy. And being with you…. It was the first time I could see myself thinking beyond that and it scared me. So when I got the opportunity to transfer, I took it and I’m sorry for that.”

Bradley let the silence between them linger for a moment before he whispered, “Did you think about me? About us?”

Jake sighed and Bradley heard his head thump against the window of the Hard Deck. “I tried not to. I thought if I could just put my head down and focus on my next mission, those feelings I had for you would go away. And it worked for a while.”

“And that’s why you stopped answering my calls and texts,” Bradley scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I should have known better than to trust you. But no. You said that we could make things work long distance. That what we had was still new but you wanted to keep exploring it. Then after a month, I barely heard from you and when I did, it was all about your latest mission or training exercises. You might have changed at first but the old Hangman came back and you cared more about your career and ego than anything else.” 

The two men stood in silence, their backs to one another. Whatever feelings they had last year were still there, rippling in the air around them. Bradley wanted Jake so much it hurt. But more than that, he needed Jake to want him back just as fiercely. He was no longer willing to settle for anything less. And it seemed as if Jake might have finally understood that.

Taking a deep breath, Jake said, “You’re right. This past year I’ve been trying to chase that high from last summer. To feel that rush and excitement and adrenaline I did when I was here. And it finally hit me last week. I’m not looking for the assignment or the danger that gave me that feeling. I’m looking for the person.” He chuckled dryly, “It’s not the plane. It’s the pilot, right? And I haven’t had the right pilot by my side for a year now. I need my wingman back….. I need you.”

Bradley’s heart skipped a beat, but it still wasn’t enough. Turning so his back was against the railing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “So what? You want me to leave my position at Top Gun and get transferred to your squadron just because all of a sudden you had this great epiphany? Even if I agree to try things with you again– which I haven’t –I’m not leaving all of my friends, family, and a job I love on the off chance you don’t sabotage us again.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Jake turned to face Bradley, but he couldn’t meet his eye. “The real reason I was late tonight is because I was talking to Cyclone. Starting next month, I’m gonna be a Top Gun instructor. Just like you.”

Bradley blinked several times in quick succession. “Wh-what?”

“I’m not asking you to leave everything behind for me. I’m asking you to let me come home to you and try again.” Jake’s eyes lifted slowly until he was staring into Bradley’s eyes. “I messed up but I want to fix it. I want to fix us. And I know it won’t be like it was before, but I’m just asking for a chance. Because I fucking love you, Bradley Bradshaw. And I’m tired of trying to convince myself I don’t.”

Bradley could only stare at Jake with his jaw practically on the floor. He had considered a hundred different ways this conversation would go once he saw Jake again, but Jake confessing he loved him had never once crossed his mind. Even before Jake had left, neither one of them had used the “L” word though Bradley had considered it once or twice. But for Jake to be the first one to say it…..

As Bradley tried to absorb everything Jake had told him, Jake continued to wait, chewing on his lip as his eyes darted across Bradley’s face trying to get some idea of what he was feeling. But when he couldn’t see an answer, his shoulders slumped and he hung his head. Nodding softly, he said, “Yeah, I thought it was a long shot. But I had to try. I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding, Rooster.”

However, as he turned to leave, Bradley’s hand shot out and grabbed his. Jake’s eyes snapped up to Bradley’s face and the mustachioed man smiled. “I should hate you, you know. I should reject your offer and move on. But I can’t. Because I love you too, Jake.” 

Then he wrapped his arms around Jake’s waist and pulled him into a kiss.

It felt almost like that first time on Bradley’s bunk a year ago. The same desperation and heat fueled their motions. Jake’s hand wrapped around the back of Bradley’s neck and he pulled him even deeper into him while Bradley pushed Jake back against the wall of The Hard Deck. Everyone inside was probably staring at them through the window, but neither man gave a fuck at that moment. Right now, nothing existed besides the two of them.

Jake slipped his lips from Bradley’s and began trailing kisses across his jaw and down his throat. When he began sucking on the side of his neck, Bradley moaned, “Oh god, I’ve missed you.”

Lifting his head, Jake said, “Well, I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.” He began to lean forward again, but he looked at his watch as it made a soft buzz sound. A grin slowly spread across his face. “Midnight. Which means it’s now the anniversary of the mission. Do you remember what we did that night exactly one year ago?”

Bradley’s grin soon matched Jake’s. “I may not have a bunk handy but the backseat of my Bronco is about the same size.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Jake slid his hand into Bradley’s and began pulling him towards the parking lot. “I want to make this another night you’ll never forget.”

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @lorecraft, @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire,  @nerdysuperchick, @tavners, @mayhem24-7forever @wildbornsiren, @hederasgarden, @ryebecca, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-fox,  @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta,  @fangirlinc, @sparrows-corner, @mads-weasley, @trencher4lyfe, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @imjess-themess, @maggie8002sq, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @tellrock35, @mak-32

[paladincecil]

Out of nowhere, I very vaguely remembered an old game I rented a single time many years ago but not the name of it.

It featured 2 animal characters who were tied or chained together, and to attack one of them would use the other character as a weapon. I think at least the first level took place in a lab? I imagine it would have been on the ps2, but it could have been gamecube.

Not a lot to go on but if I'm able to look at screens for a while tomorrow I might do some research to try and find out what this mystery game could be xD

[gothidecorem]

Oh! Before I forget, this is my entry for @tgm-all4one ‘s “It’s not the prompt, it’s the creator” challenge

[nade2308]

'Cause I don't know where it's going

There's a part of me that loves not knowing

Just don't let it end before we begin

— Daughtry, "Start of something good"

@thethistlegirl @malewifebillcage

I was gonna write a fic for the event, but things took a different turn and I made a gifset instead. My entry for the @tgm-all4one event, "It's not the prompt, it's the creator"

The prompt: "Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time."