#cyclone x hangman

[cutesycadaver]

I've fallen into the Hangman x Cyclone pit (crazed but affectionate)

[military-newsboys]

Rooster: I’m a moderate, peaceful and godly man, truth be told.

Mav: Just yesterday you threw a chair at Hangman.

Rooster: Yes. Which was a moderate, peaceful and godly compromise from the table I was initially planning on launching on that bitch.

[ragingbookdragon]

Maverick stood in the front of the other pilots going over mission strategies when a young man entered in the back. For a moment, he watched but kept on about flight patterns until the man kept inching forward.

After seeing the man take another step, Maverick sighed and asked, “AM Peterson, is there something you need? This is a classified meeting.”

The AM sunk his neck into his shoulders as multiple higher ranks turned their heads and looked at him. “Uh, yes, Captain Mitchell, sir.” His cheeks flushed as he fumbled with his hands. “It’s, um, about your daughter, sir.”

Maverick’s brows furrowed and he ignored the way that both Hangman and Rooster sat up a little straighter. “Is she okay?”

The AM’s mouth opened and closed, then he asked, “Define okay, sir.”

“Is she alive and breathing,” he deadpanned.

“Yes, sir, she is.”

“Then you’re dismissed. I’ll get to her later.” He turned back to the board and the AM hurried up, leaning into Maverick’s ear as he whispered quietly; Maverick turned and looked at him. “Please, tell me you’re joking.”

The poor AM looked as if he were about to cry. “Sir, I wish I was.”

He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Okay. I’ll go now.”

As he started walking down the middle, Hangman and Rooster both stood up and started following and he looked between them. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“It’s about Heretic,” Rooster said with a look of disbelief. “We’re coming.”

Maverick looked at Rooster. “You, I get coming along.” He then looked at Hangman. “You, I don’t, and I don’t like the implication either.”

Hangman shrugged and in cocky fashion, replied, “Probably shouldn’t.”

He ignored Hangman as they strode through the base and into medical where Heretic was laid up in a bed with her foot in a wrap and propped up by a pillow.

“Heeeeeeeey, dad,” she greeted. “Funny meeting you here.”

“AM Peterson said you were injured.”

“I told him not to tell you. I said I was fine.”

Maverick walked up and gestured to her foot. “How?”

“How or why?” she asked back.

“Both.”

She craned her neck to the two pilots behind him and Hangman quickly pulled the curtain around them. “Well, you see, what had happened was, AM Peterson and I were fucking around playing chicken with the nail gun.”

“Oh my God,” Maverick sighed. “Did you shoot yourself in the goddamn foot with a nail gun?” he hissed.

“Well, actually, AM Peterson shot me.” She looked at him proudly. “I’m no fucking chicken.”

Maverick rubbed a hand over his face and bent over, kissing her head. “You’re an idiot. I love you, I’m glad you’re okay, but you’re an idiot.”

“Thank you, Captain,” she nodded with pride as he yanked back the curtain and walked out of the medical wing.

Hangman grinned as he leaned on the top of the bed. “Guess this explains why you weren’t at debrief.”

“Yeah…now that I think about it, I should’ve probably been at debrief.”

Rooster crossed his arms over his chest. “What’d you tell the corpsmen?”

“That I had the nail gun at a wrong angle, and it shot through my foot.”

“You know those things come with warning labels about playing with them, yeah?” he asked, and she grinned.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” She looked around. “Speaking of venturing, can you guys get me out of here?”

Hangman snorted. “Yeah, pretty girl, we’ll get you out of here.”

“Thank you. The food here sucks.”

Before either man could help her, a voice echoed from behind, “Neither of you will help Heretic out of the medical wing. In fact, you will return to debrief like the other pilots.”

All three of them jumped and they spun, watching as the Vice Admiral stood there with his arms over his chest.

“Vice Admiral Simpson,” she smiled nervously. “What a treat for you to pay a lowly lieutenant a visit.” He narrowed his gaze on her as Hangman and Rooster began inching backwards. “No! Don’t you two—!” they practically sprinted out of the room, and she gave the Vice Admiral a hesitant smile. “Vice Admiral, have I ever told you that you are an incredibly good-looking gentleman? And that any woman would be lucky to have a moment of your time?”

“Flattery won’t work on me, Lieutenant Mitchell.”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, looking down and he walked up to her bedside.

“Did you really shoot yourself in the foot with a nail gun?”

She pursed her lips. “If I exercise my fifth amendment right does that, y’know, express guilt?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes sir, I shot myself in the foot with a nail gun.”

Cyclone sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “What is it with you two Mitchell’s?”

“Is that rhetorical or…” she trailed off when she saw the glare on his face. “I won the bet, if it makes you feel vindicated sir.”

“How much?”

“Two-fifty.” She pulled out the money and showed it to him; then she said, “I’ll give you one-twenty-five if you pretend I shot myself not playing chicken but fixing something.”

Cyclone looked at her for a solid moment, then he held out his hand and she smugly put the bills in it; as he pocketed it, he warned, “Do not, let this happen again, Lieutenant.”

“Aye-aye, Vice Admiral, sir.” As he walked off, she called out, “Can I buy you a beer sometime, sir?”

“Nice offer, Lieutenant, but I’m a little too old for you.”

“Fine wine ages with time, sir. Can confirm it’s aging you finely,” she flirted, and he chuckled as he turned out the door.

[lieutenantfloyd]

I don't know if anyone else has posted this, but Lauren Polizzi (the art director for TGM) has a lovely online portfolio where she shares some of her creative thought processes and details from movies she has worked on. Including lots of details, fun facts, many photos of The Hard Deck, the ready room, the hangar, and a few other scenes!

Not only is it really interesting to see what went on behind the scenes, but the photos are also great references if you make any type of fanwork! Above are a few of the set photos she published and below is a link to the full post. I highly suggest checking it out!

[bo0tleg]

Decided to make one of these for Top Gun: Maverick too, you know... to dispel the pain I caused with my last post...

(this is my whatsapp history, not direct quotes from the movie)

(in the first one, I'm aware it looks like There's a 30 min gab between both messages. There is not, my internet just decided that they were going to let me see the message 30 min later)

[enthyrea]

commission for @sizzlingcloudalmondspy !

they requested macheresin and cylock’s reaction to maverick beating the mission sim.

thank you for commissioning me 🤍

commission info

[ddejavvu]

Touch starved pilots of your choice cuddling their s/o headcanons

characters written: pete 'maverick' mitchell, nick 'goose' bradshaw, tom 'iceman' kazansky, ron 'slider' kerner, leonard 'wolfman' wolfe, rick 'hollywood' neven, beau 'cyclone' simpson, bradley 'rooster' bradshaw, jake 'hangman' seresin, natasha 'phoenix' trace, robert 'bob' floyd, javy 'coyote' machado, mickey 'fanboy' garcia, reuben 'payback' fitch

sfw, but cut for length. enjoy!

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell:

depends on what age you're thinking!

if it's young!mav, he's probably just a liiiitle reluctant to let himself relax sometimes

he's sort of got his tough guy persona, and he's not used to dropping it, so when you get him alone he tries messing around at first

whether that's a few too many kisses, or a pinch to your side, he guards himself a bit before letting himself go

but when he does, oh, he's like a little kitten !

he lets you run your hands through his gelled hair (gross)

and it gets all misshapen and spiky

he probably just melts when you pet his hair like that, and he'll be snoozing on your chest in no time

now older!mav is definitely less of a tough nut to crack

he probably initiates the cuddling in the first place, he nudges you over to the bed and lays himself on top of you to crush you

you can push at his chest and splutter all you want, but he's made his choice on where he's going to lay, and it's on you

he likes holding you, but he wants to be face-to-face, so you can brush noses and bump foreheads

he probably tries sooo hard to stay awake so that he can soak in the time you're spending together but peepaw definitely crashes like 10 minutes in

Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw:

he also likes to be face to face!

buuut not for the same sweet reason as mav

he just wants to itch you with his mustache

he likes nipping at you too, he bites your nose to make you laugh

you won't be getting any sleep when you cuddle with goose, he just wants to talk and laugh and hold you the entire time

it's not a period of time to wind down, it's a big laugh-fest

and god FORBID you try to get up to pee

“Nick, I have to go.” / “Sorry, honey. I can’t let go. I think my hand’s stuck.” / “NICK!!”

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky

he’s another one who probably has just a bit of trouble letting his guard down

he’ll cuddle with you no doubt, but he’ll probably always keep you in his lap or have some sort of upper hand in the embrace

it takes a while before he’s ready to be held himself

when he does finally give in it's so soft and sweet :')

he's had a really hard day and he comes home with his eyes drooping

you've planned a movie night but he doesn't even look like he could sit through an episode of a tv show

so you lead him to bed instead, and tell him you're sleepy, cause he won't 'ruin' the night by admitting that he is

you ask to play with his hair and he lets you, but he's not sure why 'cause you just said you were tired??

you basically have to trick him into being held but once his head is on your chest and your hands are in his hair he's gone.

he ends up mumbling something all sleepy and groggy like 'mm, that's nice' and his eyes are half shut and he's so endearingly tired :')

he wants you to do it all the time now, I'd say it's about 50/50 whether you fall asleep holding him or he falls asleep holding you

Ron 'Slider' Kerner:

slider's a big boy!!!!!!!

he's big and tall and muscly, the perfect cuddle buddy

he's probably more inclined to hold than be held

but he likes it when you face him so you can wrap your arms around his back :')

he probably likes it when he's able to bury his face in your neck/shoulder/against the top of your head

like he always wants his face snuggled in somewhere warm and nice smelling

and it just so happens his chest is an excellent place to get lost yourself

so you most of the time just nuzzle right into each other and get to snoozin'

i think he'd talk real soft, too, he'd murmur against your ear while you're drifting off, probably boring you to sleep with technical details of his flights but just before you crash for the night he slips in a little 'i love you, honey' and <33333

Leonard 'Wolfman' Wolfe:

he's a loser for his partner it has to be said

almost as teasing as nick is but not quite

he'll let you fall asleep he just wants to talk to you AllTheTime because he LovesYouSoMuch

he's a chatterbox and you'll be lucky if you get to sleep at a decent hour

he really likes it when you lay your head on his chest

'cause he likes playing with your hair and your face :]

sometimes he'll just use you as a little stress toy and squeeze your cheeks and pinch your nose and poke at your forehead

always making silly little jokes and telling you all about his day

down to, like, every comment one of his friends made...

'and then slider said he was gonna kill him but hollywood ran, so then they were just chasing each other around and iceman said-' / 'babe.. can we sleep? please?' / 'oh! right, sorry baby.'

Rick 'Hollywood' Neven

listen there's a reason he and wolfman get along so well

they're BOTH teases!!!

cuddling with hollywood is not really relaxing, because he's always pinching your sides or putting his nasty cold feet all over you, or pretending to knock you out by fake-punching you a bunch

you're just laying there and he's 'punching' your stomach, making fake punch sounds with his mouth, and if you push him away he'll pretend you've absolutely knocked him out, tumbling down onto the mattress with this dramatic thump and closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out of his mouth like he's a dead cartoon character 😭

he's like a dog you have to get his energy out before trying to rest with him or he just Won't Rest

when you DO get him sleepy, though, he's kinda incoherent when he's tired, so you'll be cuddled up together, maybe you're scratching his back, maybe he's playing with your hair, and he's just sort of mumbling nonsense until he finally drifts off to sleep

Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson:

will not be held

sorry! not happening

he's just so big and beefy and authoritative that he doesn't much enjoy being coddled

he loves cuddling with you though, he gets very relaxed just laying with you

he's a casual toucher, i think, so you can rest your head on his shoulder at the airport, you can hold his hand at restaurants, whether that be over or under the table, he lets you hang all over him however you want

he's not super into in-your-face PDA, though, so you'll have to be polite and considerate about it

actually in bed though, under the blankets at night?

he's so much more cuddly than you'd expect

he wraps his big strong arms around you and tugs you close and lets you melt all over him <33

your favorite place to lay your head is probably his chest 'cause it's so broad and firm and nice <3

he's a good back rubber so cuddles are always soft and cozy and sleepy

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw:

lord he's a cuddler

he's just a touchy guy, because he's probably gone without it for a significant amount of time so now that he's got you he's gonna enjoy it

big big big on pda, doesn't really care who sees

so that means cuddling in public, too

perfectly content to sit by the beach with you in his lap all cuddled back into his chest he doesn't care if anyone teases him

but back in bed he's a sucker for head scratches

if you have long-ish nails, enough to scratch at his scalp, he'll literally melt over you like an ice cream cone

his limbs go all gooey and he flops his head down on your chest, groaning and grunting while you scratch through his hair

he really enjoys sleeping on top of you, whether that be fully chest-to-chest 'you're suffocating me' cuddling or just an arm thrown over your stomach while he lays on his own

he likes being held, too, but probably prefers to hold unless he's having a hard day

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin:

big boy!! surprisingly fond of being held for everything we know about him

that cocky demeanor does not last under the sheets

he adores holding you, of course, he'll wrap his big arms around you and cradle your head to his chest

he probably plays with your hair, looooves it when you tangle your legs up with his own

he prefers if you talk to him rather than him talk to you if you're cuddling

cause he likes the sound of your voice and he loves hearing about your day

he tries to listen so attentively to what you're saying, but if you're taking a little too long telling him about that batty old customer that had visited the shop you work at today, his eyes are going to slowly start to droop and he's gonna let out a big ol yawn that means it's time for him to close his eyes

you always cut yourself off like 'sorry, jake. g'head, go to sleep'

and he insists you continue like 'nooo darlin' i wanna hear! keep going :]' except within two minutes he's dozing against the pillow while you talk about the old lady again

he's a simple man just talk soft and slow to him while snuggled up in his arms and he's gonna sleep no matter what you're telling him

Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace:

she really likes laying face-to-face with you!!

she's a fan of spooning, of course, she likes either burying her face in your back or letting you snuggle into hers

but she loves the intimacy that comes from being pretty much nose-to-nose with you

the type to lay there and chat with you mere inches away so that you're leaning in to kiss her all giggly and bashful every four seconds

she uses your cuddle time to tell you all about her teammates, what stupid shit jake said today, how bob almost tripped down the stairs, that fanboy's got a new girlfriend who wants to meet you, etc etc etc

but that means when you see them next you know all of the hot gossip about everyone and you giggle every time jake says something dumb and he's like WHAT.. WHAT IS IT.. WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME.. and you give nat this little ;) 'cause you'll definitely be talking shit about him later

she does this thing where she cradles the back of your head in her hand if you're face to face and she throws her leg over your waist and it gives you such intense butterflies that you need to close your eyes sometimes <3333

Robert 'Bob' Floyd:

cuddlebug <3

he loooves cuddling but if you do it face-to-face he's gonna need to be super close to you because he can't see without his glasses 😭

i'm taking like nose-to-nose so close that you have to cross your eyes to see him

otherwise he's pretty chill in what positions he likes

you love it when he reads to you

i think he might not be the most confident reader out loud but he does it anyways 'cause it puts you to sleep

he gets really sleepy really easily so sometimes it's best to refrain from cuddling in public

like you're out on the beach by a firepit and you're all snuggled up together but oops he can't enjoy his smores because he's sleeping on your shoulder

he loves it when you lay your head on his shoulder sm :'))

he wraps his arm around you and tugs you closer <3

Javy 'Coyote' Machado:

prefers holding to being held

probably a little less talkative than the rest, but that doesn't mean you never chat

he just has this insane ability to fall asleep anywhere, i'm talking slumped against the bus window, leaning against the wall, sitting on the ground, piloting his aircraft sorry

he likes staring at you, though, while he falls asleep :')

if you're talking to him he'll listen and nod and hum along and agree when he should, he's a very good listener

but slowly he'll start to fade a bit, and he'll sling his hand over your waist, smush his face into the pillow, and keep listening for as long as he can

slooooowly you start getting less responses from him, he's not reacting as much, but his eyes are always locked onto your face and he's got this lazy little smile on his face while he drifts off to sleep 'cause he gets to look at you the whole time :')

loverboy!!

Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia:

the most talkative in the whole wide world

cuddling with him is barely even cuddling, it's watching him act out his entire day

'and then payback went like this and- BAM! shot it down.'

and he's up on his knees in the middle of the bed with his arms out demonstrating exactly how they'd worked through their training exercises that day

and he is loud and energetic and you're half-asleep like 'that sounds awesome, babe.'

he isn't one to stay in one place really, he likes tossing and turning a bit before he falls asleep which means that you are also going to be tossed and turned

he's a really shifty sleeper too so you'll wake up with your face in his armpit

if you're really sleepy though, he'll settle down, he'll pull you into his chest and let you fall asleep there

but he'll probably be on his phone for a bit, he strikes me as a crazy night owl

Reuben 'Payback' Fitch:

out in two seconds

there is no conscious cuddling with him

why?

because the second his head hits the pillow he's snoring

you can cuddle up to him but if he's cuddling up to you he's doing it in his sleep

you're actually so jealous of him bc you lay down for the night and he tucks his chin over your head or he snuggles his face into your neck and that's it.

he's out.

he's a clingy sleeper, though, so if you wanna read for a bit or use your phone it might be kind of hard

honestly it really helps your sleep schedule to sleep with him 'cause sometimes he's entirely wrapped around you and you can't move

so there's nothing to do but sleep yourself

he's like a living furnace i KNOW that man runs hot

you probably wake up sweating a bunch if you're all snuggly with him

blanket stealer. he somehow manages to tear them off of the end of the bed where they're tucked in and cocoon himself

and then you wake up freezing cold

when i said he snores i mean it he snores loud

it's sort of comforting eventually? like at first it drives u insane

but over time you come to rely on it as white noise and you can't sleep unless he's all over you snoring right in your ear and drooling on your shoulder

[warnersister]

THE HIGHWAYMAN

Cowboy!Jake (Hangman) Seresin x Reader

• Series •

Summary: Jake Seresin: Highwayman. Riding along coach roads with his gang of the fellow Dagger Squad. But when his companion is in immediate need of a horse, they stop in a town Jake had avoided for the past 5 years. The place he’d left his beloved as a threat from her father, Sheriff Beau Simpson. But when he returns for good, Simpson isn’t having some highwayman get his way with his daughter. Not if he had anything to do with it.

Connotations to smut marked with *

Prologue

Chapter 1 - The Return to Miramar

Chapter 2 - Damned if you do; Damned if you don’t

Chapter 3 - The Dead Man Walking

Chapter 4 - A glass of Bourbon from Denison

Chapter 5* - A night worth dying for*

Chapter 6 - A bargain with the executioner

Chapter 7 - Listen to her gut

Chapter 8 - Unfinished business with a pistol

Chapter 9 - Please, not another 5 years

Chapter 10 - Gifts from Sacramento

Chapter 11 - May God have Mercy

Chapter 12 - A hanging in the Spring of ‘63

Chapter 13 - The girl with no father

Chapter 14 - You’re needed East

Chapter 15 - An apology is a blessing

Chapter 16* - A final goodbye and a first hello*

Epilogue

Fin.

[mare--noctis]

Series Concept

Old rivalries ignite new friendships as the boundaries between past and present blur. Love and loyalty are tested when the stakes soar higher than ever before. Who will navigate the turbulence of duty and desire, forging unbreakable bonds that transcend time? The end of one journey is just the beginning of another. Legends will rise. Hearts will soar. A legacy will live on.

Top Gun: Legacy is an anthology following the lives of 16 naval aviators over 40 years.

Top Gun: Danger Zone follows the friendship of LTJG Nick "Goose" Bradshaw and LT Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Top Gun: Horizon follows the rise of the VFA-313 "Daggers" Squadron

Top Gun: Crosswind follows the uncharted waters between VADM Beau "Cyclone" Simpson and RADM Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Top Gun: Hard Deck follows the history of LT Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and LT Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Top Gun: Afterburn follows the rise and fall of the relationship between ADM Tom "Iceman" Kazansky and CAPT Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Creator Notes: I will get around to writing these one day. I hope.

Yes, I had to re-create the Top Gun logo from scratch to get it to work like this.

I took inspiration from the layouts of the 1986 movie posters.

This is one of my absolute favourite pieces of work I've ever done

Until next time,

Mare Noctis Studios

(K. E. Birch)

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy ( Jake seresin x Reader ) Part 12

summary : rough morning in work for our girl with an unlikely admiral coming to the rescue while the guys find a nickname for her , also starting her birthing classes in a nice of town leading her to not only see a familiar face but make a new friend and well have some fun with the other snobs of the class

warnings : none really, pregnancy and it hormones , ok well the grammatical errors and spelling mistake more of a filler part

previous part

“ you know when the words she got an animal came from your lips i didn’t think it would be followed by a pitbull named peanut , honestly I was thinking she finally stole one of those duck” rooster snorted . 

“ as much as i hate the way these words are coming from my lips right now but  i agree with bradshaw but also bob kinda told me last email he sent  little guy is only a pup and he was so skinny too “ nat  smirked only wishing she could of see jakes face when he spotted peanut first but knowing y/n she would definitely get to see it . 

“ yeah so we got a dog now and the hard decks new mascot oh  she and guys sent care packages mine will have more pictures well sonograms of the baby , she making everyone wait  til i’m home til we find out the gender , javy did say she was tired alot and sick a good bit which honestly makes me feel useless  wishing i could help and be there but he also said that everyone’s taking care of her even kyles been hanging out in the hanger any chance he gets to help out never thought i would say this considering i punched him and kicked his ass in the start but he’s a good man “ jake chuckled. 

“ yeah who would of though nat would be in love with the guy she also punched in the hard deck parking lot” rooster almost fell over laughing. 

“ yeah he was a dick at first but like all men it was a stupid front , look at us all now a year and half later , jakes engaged to y/n and she’s having his baby and they have a dog” she laughed. 

“Hey i live there too dogs mine too “ rooster said easily. 

“ he is cute he’s a little thin but she said he was worse then that” he said knowing he would of definitely would of done the same probably would of kicked the guys ass .   “ there’s still time for her to get that duck actually i better try get javy make sure we don’t come home to a zoo” jake eyes widening knowing it was now a possibility. 

 “ we both know she would just bat those pretty lashes and you would melt and be all like of course darling whatever you want baby” nat imitated his accent . 

“ she’s not wrong , my friend you are as whipped as they come” bradley chuckled . 

“ says the one what is doctor love” jake smirked as rooster fell . 

“ that was one time man i’m not getting to live that one down” he huffed as they headed off ready to get another day of training done with . 

One month and three weeks down she was getting into a small routine  , each morning she and peanut would have their breakfast ,�� the two would head to doggy daycare and work  then she would do her normal routine only with the guys joining more ,  they  would cook , play games even work out a little , she still helped payback with cooking but now it was them all doing it to which she was shocked at who had skills and who didn’t by end of the first night fanboy and coyote were told they were on chopping duty while bob and payback where allowed near the stove and oven  and kyle well he was happy with being the  official taster .  then when it came to going to her appointments  her dad would collect peanut from doggy daycare to which she was suspecting the man was carrying extra treats around with him .  She was now nearly a month and half til jake got home Slightly Insecure as bump was growing more it was huge by any means But it was enough To alter her body  shape in away she wasn't used to or  Could of just been in her nead but the insecurities creeped In now she was sitting waiting before work Crying in her overalls because well they didn't fit . Just as she got herself off the ground an unlisted number rang sending her hurdling to the her phone she tied Herself as quick as she could hitting The answer. 

“ hey whats wrong” jakes brow furrowed taking in her tear filled eyes And little red nose . 

“ im fat i mean so fat i cant fit into my overalls” she cried standing up to show him turning The camera to the full length  mirror ,  only to hear him chuckle . 

“ baby you ain't fat Your beautiful  and carrying my baby those overall just make it look cuter “ he smiled. 

“ on Plus side my boobs did get a lot bigger the intern nearly fell over looking at them “ she smiled only took couple of sweet words from her man to make her feel a little better . 

“ yeah i notice that too Not Gonna lie saw It before i saw the teary … Wait what you mean men are tripping over Your or should i say my boobs” he arched His brow. 

“awh jake sweet jake they gonna be the babies boobs the Moment they're  born” she snorted just as peanut came zooming into the room . “ look who’s also getting fat “ she beamed turning The camera to show the now healthier Looking puppy at her feet tail Thudding Off the side of bed as she sat down talking away filling him in on the fun she been having with the guys but of course she was missing him more and more also made him promise to hug roo and nat for her .  getting to stage after he hung up as much as she love seeing his face it made her miss him , miss them all so much more as much as guys tried they were all starting to feel the absence and what made it worse was the stupid birth classes admiral simpson and his lovely wife have gifted her which  were starting  that afternoon .  least she wasn’t going to be alone her father was going with her ,  it was better then walking in and well looking like the loner who the teacher would have to partner up with and it wasn’t like she could be like oh can we trade partners . Her dad was so excited it was actually so cute how he wanted to help her out and how excited he was over fact he was going to be a grandfather something she would of never see coming but then again she never thought a year and a half  nearly two years after coming to san diego that she would be actually in this position. 

“ hey  bumpy “ javy called the moment she walked into the hanger. 

“ huh? Oh like flumpy but pregnant version … no “ she rolled her eyes. 

“ we’re still working on a nickname , we can’t call you pretty girl or hotstuff , phoenix and rooster already told us and well flumpy is you and jakes thing but we will get their maybe brainstorm it first” bob smiled softley . 

“ ugh your adorable “ she cooed heading over to see her intern already messing at the engine she was working on , making her almost jump out her skin to get him away .  

“ maybe we could call her grumpy “ fanboy snickered. 

“ maybe i’ll throw this wrench at your head” she called back . 

“ maybe we can brainstorm it a little longer” he winced . 

“ ugh stupid stupid … not you kid” she added starting to feel her eyes welling up. 

“ y/n are you crying?” payback called. 

“ no … my eyes are leaking” she sniffled wiping them quickly . 

“ mitchell is everything ok ?” admiral simpson asked  hearing as he passed by. 

“ i’m fat and this kid is well not the brightest blub , i miss everyone and i want a burrito “ she cried out making them all stand looking at her . “ no i look like a nutcase” she cried harder. 

“ come on mini mitchell” admiral simpson extended his arm out . “ someone get him out  away from the engine “ he whisper yelled following her out.  

She felt ridiculous  and well maybe she was losing it and didn’t help she felt both nauseous and hungry. 

“ without sound inappropriate you are not fat , you are great shape giving your condition “ beau simpson coughed out. 

“ thanks sir sorry this is totally unprofessional” she sniffled slightly waiting for him to tell her to not come back in probably send her home til she popped the kid out . 

“ burritos in the canteen if you want on i think i can persuade them to give you one earlier” he said nudging her shoulder was like a older uncle trying to be cool with the kids the way he was acting giving his usually stiff by the book approach . 

“ nah me and ed are tight he makes sure to put extra aside for me , plus  i probably wont keep it down” she sighed softly. 

“ deployment isn’t easy i can see giving the circumstance if you can get more call time “ he offered . 

“ sir think you called enough favors for me “ . 

“ well my wife is very fond of you and giving the difference with me and your dad well i still think of you as a niece of sorts “ he shrugged. 

“ nice to have some still alive” she began crying again only for her dad to walk out of his office confused. 

“ everything ok ?” he asked. 

“ my uncles keep dying” she cried out . 

“ she have a rough morning “ beau winced. 

“ i’ll take it from here .. thanks beau .. come on princess” Mav guided her back into the office. 

“ thanks admiral simpson don't die” she called out before the door closed. 

She went straight to the sofa the moment she stepped foot into the office as her dad sat on  really already done with the day that not even started fully. 

“ what’s wrong kiddo” he asked holding her to his side.

“ i miss jake , i feel fat i wanna eat but i’m gonna throw up , now i’m sad over dead people and well my overall don’t fit” she sniffled . “ probably gonna be fired for being a nut job and i called  the intern stupid and feel bad” she added. 

“  missing people deployed or well dead is normal , being pregnant and dealing with all this isn’t easy and well  i’ve seen the kid he didn’t know which wrench was which so it’s not totally uncalled for i’ll see if we can sort something out and  penny made me bring crackers to work in case your were sick so let try those bad boys first and we’ll try harder stuff later and for the overall  can be let out” he smiled rubbing her back as she settle down. 

“ penny is seriously perfect for you” she settled on sofa even more enjoying the relaxation of her father rubbing her back giving it was starting to hurt lately . 

“ speaking of penny is going to collect peanut from day care and we will get him after the classes  , last time i was at one was when you were in your moms belly and now i get to be there  for you” he smiled . 

“ stop being so cute i’ll start crying again and well my eyes hurt and i wanna nap” she sniffled. 

“ why don’t you look i got a meeting soon and it gonna be an hour rest your head and i’ll wake you we can try the day again when your awake” he said softly already seeing her eyes closing . 

“ for once i’m not going to fight against the special treatment hell call me the teachers pet “ she yawn laying down feeling something covering her not bothering to open her eyes to see the blanket . 

Pete mitchell never move So quietly Out His office ge was usually rushing to get into it only See beau simpson Standing there. 

“ she asleep?” He asked peering In. 

“ out like a light might help hormones at big high today” he grimace . 

“ honestly my wife was worse Apparently She almost traveled to the area we were stationed at , no i was gonna honestly let her use my office” he smiled . “ the dagger squad Was right she does have a way Of getting People on her side huh? “

“ she been like that since she was a kid , i mean charlies dad this guy a stone cold man who well wouldn't smile for god himself  then an afternoon with y/n mans still smiling to this day” he chuckled . 

“ she would of been a good admiral she got the head for it  and she can be a bossy as one and she’s a flare for dramatics ” beau nodded as two went down  to get  to their meeting. 

The nap done wonders  , she was a lot calmer and well more herself when she joined them for lunch even after she was more patient actually showing her intern luke how to fix the engine instead of causing more problems then she was standing in the parking lot out side some building one she know had community activity classes like yoga and stuff it was in nicer part of town too watching the women going in better dressed while she had her adam sandler fit  and sad fact most of clothes were jakes .  her dad the traitor even showed up nicely dressed making her glare at the man as he walked towards her. 

“ what i do?” 

“ i look homeless more homeless then i did when i arrived to san diego “ she huffed . 

“ hey your my kid you could were a black sack and it would look gorgeous come one i need to take notes” he said as they two entered the building the woman at the counter was more interested in her dad to even notice she was there and she could of sworn she heard someone call her a  sugarbaby passing by .  the moment she stood into the room all eyes where on her most almost sizing them up looking between her and her dad already drawing a conclusion  of the situation .  one woman had  warm smiles on  her face so she went their way  . 

“ hey first day ?” the woman asked. 

“ yeah hi i’m y/n and this is my dad  pete mitchell “ she smiled holding her hand out. 

“ lila and this is my brother in law luke”  the man turned as she was looking at the deer in the headlight reaction on her interns face. 

“ you got to be shitting me hey kiddo” she laughed . 

“  you both know him” lila asked confused. 

“ i’m interning under y/n  , so she like my temp boss, lila is married to my sister she’s currently deployed with  rest of your squad “ luke explained . 

“  well just cause were in the same group doesnt mean i’ll go easy “ y/n teased . 

“ you go easier on me being your interns been fun .. well sometimes” he chuckled . 

“Well park those butts and stick with us the other are….” lila stalled trying to be polite 

“ assholes , snobs  i mean i could go on “ luke finished .

“ ok everyone sit down and we can begin … oh two new faces hi “ the woman called walking in the door . 

“ another gold digger great” she heard one woman mumble. 

“ hi my name is y/n this is my pookie  guess you know why were here “ y/n put on fake smile and sweet voice. “I ask for prada and his ears must of been acting up giving his age ” she added as room went silent. 

“ ignore my daughter she thinks she is a comedian , i’m just standing in while her partner is deployed … oh i’m pete” he smiled awkward seeing some faces of relief , the teacher and their new friends suppressing their giggles. 

“  yeah he’s my dad not my sugar daddy that ones someone in a classified location” she sat giving luke a high five. 

“ well what an introduction , lets get ready for today’s lesson guys , my name is melanie and i’m looking forward to having you in my class” she smiled .  

“ i think you and i will get on just fine” lila whispered . 

“ hey dad look i made a new friend already” she giggled .

part 13

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @emma8895eb @sarah-bear706318 @katiemcrae

[sereshawl]

Rooster: If I said I love you, would you say it back?

Hangman: Of course.

Rooster: I love you.

Hangman: It back.

*Maverick bursting into Cyclones office*

Maverick: Sorry I’m late, Rooster was trying to kill Hangman.

Cyclone, sighing: Again?

[doodledraw]

a tiny…..joint post lol? I guess with @enthyrea we both drew some of the JCPenny photos with our favorite daggers!! I hope you like them :))

[military-newsboys]

Ice: we all have our demons. Ice: *pointing at Mav* and that one’s mine Mav: *smiles*

[saltsicklover]

Title: Not a Cyclone, But a Monsoon

Part 1 of 2 - Completed

Find Part 2 HERE and my Master List HERE

A request based off of THIS prompt, from the lovely @inkandarsenic

Romantic Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader Past Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Platonic Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x Fem!Reader

A few uses of Y/N

Word Count: This part: 6k+ Total Fic:20k+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, minor character deaths, labor, loss of a child in utero, abandonment, drinking, talks of God and destiny, swearing, general military talk and lingo, descriptions of food and eating, coughing fits, talks of violence, actual violence, blood, vomit and throwing up, mention of near death experiences. ANGST

---

I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED OR TRANSLATED

Miramar, California. TOP GUN. Six years before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

The Officers Club, better known as The Flight Line Bar sits on post in Miramar, frequented by the big brass and educators at Top Gun. The whole place glows with amber light from the buzzing light fixtures that hang from the rafters, dusty and hot to the touch. This half of base, on the far side of the air field has yet to be updated, evident by the chips in the glasses and the inconsistent flickering of the halogen bulbs. The wallpaper is peeling; discolored around the old neon signs that have slowly begun to fizzle out. If it were any brighter inside those four walls, one might be able to see the discoloration of well walked floors and one too many spilt beers.

Two loan pool tables sit in the center of the bar, their felt faded from use and tearing, flanked by a couple of dart boards, their cork crumbling from age. The patrons look about the same, old and wrinkled with age, lines worn into their faces that read closer to distinguished than wary. That's what the military does to a person, wears itself straight into the skin and makes a home there, the ghosts of lost wingman and battle buddies still looming in the whites of their eyes. Too many memories are stuck in the deep folds of their uniforms, worn in around the elbows and shoulders, the creases worn from friction- salute after salute.

It's really a hard to believe that people still frequent The Flight Line Bar. After all, there are so many better places for the students of Top Gun to meander into, just off post where they don't have to risk rubbing shoulders with their instructors- or heaven forbid, hit on their guest lecturers.

After all, It's all fun and games, flirty touches and smooth words until you're slapped with a SHARP report.

The students always figure out the good places to drink after class, shortly after their arrival after one too many moments spent inside the crumbling bar. The drinks are good in taste, better in price, but not worth it at the risk of saying just the wrong thing to just the wrong person.

The new recruits arrival happens like clockwork, and it's a ritual the newly minted Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson loves to witness. He has been watching the little ordeal for the last four years, with each new Top Gun class, even choosing to mark the date on his calendar after having almost missed an incoming class last year.

The new Top Gun recruits wander into The Flight Line Bar in gaggles. Most still clad in their uniforms if they had been lucky enough to get issued a drinking order. The wide eyed aviators would file up to the bar, uneasy looks on their faces as they took in the ranks drinking around them. If the Flight Line Bar was a small pond, the Top Gun inductees are guppies surrounded by some very big fish. One year, a young aviator even tripped over the base commander's seat and was met with a glare that even Cyclone would have been nervous to stand on the receiving end of.

The recruits each drink a beer, the brave ones chancing a second, before they're heading for the door. Cyclone loves to see the discomfort that would roll off of them the moment they crossed the threshold back into the parking lot. Some would even shiver, which always seems to pull a hearty laugh out of the Admiral.

This year, however, Cyclone is met with a very different scene before him when he himself broke the threshold of the Flight Line Bar. Having been stuck in a meeting with Admiral Kazansky, Cyclone ends up arriving later than the usual crowd of recruits. So, when he finally wanders in, he is met with the fleeting glances of some top brass, but no new eyes. He can't fight the way he almost deflates; after the shit day he managed to barely claw his way through, the one thing he was looking forward to were the wide eyes of the newest, freshest meat that Top Gun managed to recruit.

As if today of all days wasn't hard enough to begin with.

Instead, it looks like a regular Friday night, which wouldn't do the leg work needed to actually flip his day around for the better. But he's already there, the drinks are cheap, and he really, really needs a drink. So, he orders with a silent wave of his hand, the borderline elderly man behind the bar meeting the wave with a nod of his head. Cyclone plops down unceremoniously onto one of the rickety barstools. It almost sways under his weight, however it does creak weakly as he settles. His temple meets his knuckles as he lets out a deep sigh as the beer being set down in front of him. Cyclone can only manage a nod to the bartender before lifting the glass to his lips.

The question of why he still drinks here, in this lousy bar, floats through his head for a moment, but he doesn't put fourth the energy to grant himself with an answer. Maybe it's the cheap beer and half price shots. Or, maybe the fact that he doesn't have to fight off the happy hour drinkers or the five o'clock somewhere partiers that seem to be carried in with the wind. Again, he doesn't entertain the question long enough to form an answer.

Cyclone doesn't even have to glance around the bar to know the crowd this Friday night hosts. Top brass, tired officers, and disgruntled wives, each drinking their own bad days away.

The glass feels about a hundred pounds and it meets the bar top with a loud thunk, the amber liquid sloshing around inside. A bit of foam sneaks over the rim, running down the crack in the glass. Cyclone scratches at it with this thumbnail, wondering how the hell the bar is still getting away with using nearly broken glassware. The thought doesn't last long, not many seem to this evening, and he is bringing the impossibly heavy glass back to his mouth for another sip.

As he tips it back a little further this time, the sulking woman a few seats down catches his attention. If this were a normal Friday night, Cyclone might make bets with himself on just why a woman might be crying, in this bar, all alone. He might puzzle that she is a soon to be ex-wife, her spouse making the choice to cheat on deployment. Maybe she is a daughter, or a sister, or a cousin, her base escort hiding in some other corner of the bar, or of the base. But tonight is not a normal Friday night, regardless of the absence of the new incoming class or not.

The Admiral can't help but watch her lazily out of the corner of his eye. She brings a shitty bar serviette up to wipe at her cheeks, sniffling as the paper touches her skin. Cyclone should feel guilty about how much the sight comforts him. At least, he thinks, someone else seems to be having just as bad of a day as he is.

Then, she catches him staring, his beer lost in the space between his lips and the counter. His fingers are sticky against the chilled glass as he holds it there, still watching her. Cyclone doesn't look away, no point in it now. Then, she breaks the disillusioned bubble forming between them with a sniffle and a hiccup.

It's not a pretty sound, but then again, the sight of the woman in front of him isn't exactly pretty either. After all, it's hard to be pretty when snot is rubbed up over the tip of her nose, catching the light as she sniffles again. Her hair is akin to a nest, like her fingers have been making their way through it over and over again until it is more mess than style.

"I'm sorry, Admiral, Sir," Her voice is straining from holding back tears. There is snot dripping from her nose again, and she wipes it with another flimsy napkin. A half effort is made to sweep back the hair in her face, her well kept fingernails catching in newly formed knots as she pushes it back. The woman doesn't break eye contact with him, even as the sight of him begins to swim through her newly forming tears.

"Hey, kid, it's okay, don't worry about it," His eyes meet the fluttering neon sign behind her, not wanting to lock eyes with her again. It lights her in a halo of sickly blue and Cyclone can see the fizziness of her hair in it's light- it's a half distraction from the way she is still looking at him with those tears in her eyes. He can't stand it when women cry, not after watching his wife, June, sob through her entire pregnancy. It's really the way their eyes glaze over- that helpless look where he can just tell they are fighting with everything they are worth, deep down knowing that it might not be enough. Though, it warms his chest a bit to call her "kid", like he has always been meant to use the term.

The Admiral's brown eyes go misty, locking onto the chipped portion of his glass as the memory of his wife, six months pregnant, stuck in a hospital bed as hot tears carved their way down her face invades Cyclone's memory like a plague. He will never forget the crimson staining her cheeks from the exertion as she fought. And fought. And fought. The way her skin was more chapped than smooth from the constant flow of tears- the way the light would catch the shininess of her skin from the petroleum jelly that he lovingly spread over her weeping skin.

She didn't make it home.

Neither did their baby boy.

And now, as this woman sits a couple stools down, crying in a way that's anything other than gentle, corralling her sobs into the fence of her chest; her face that same color he used to be so used to seeing, that same damn sheen to her skin and Beau feels sick. His eyes snap down to her hands and he watches as her fingers push through the soggy material of the napkin, a sight that makes him grimace a bit. Gross is not the word to use to describe a crying woman, that is fact he has to remind himself of, but the way her fingertips slipped right through that soggy excuse of a napkin is damn close. Cyclone schools his mouth into a tight line, knowing that anything he might say could make both of their day's spiral downwards even faster.

"Admiral," Cyclone wills himself to look her in the face, but his pupils dance around, not locking in on one spot too long. The frizz of her hair, then over the puffy skin under her eyes, then back up to the buzzing neon just over the top of her head. Anything to keep from looking into the woman's eyes. He manages a nod in her direction, rewarded with a hiccup from behind her glass.

A couple more used napkins are tossed up onto the bar, adding them to her steadily growing pile. Her beer is cold, and she can feel it travel all the way down, chilling her burning insides with each swallow. Cyclone takes a drink of his too, waiting for her to continue her thought. He closes his eyes as he tips back the glass, the image of the crying woman in front of him replaced with one of June, and he's not really sure which is worse.

Thunk goes the glass again.

"Can I ask a favor?" Her tone is so sweet, yet so, so sad. He thinks of June, then he nods, his body doing the motion for the sake of his heart, even though his brain is screaming at him. He was taught a long time ago that there are people who don't just ask for favors, specifically strange women in bars, new recruits, and the big brass. But, the woman looks about the age his son should have been now and his chest constricts with the realization that he could have been sitting here drinking with him if things had turned out different.

"How can I help you, kid?" The glass is hitting the bar top just a little bit too hard again, the splinter in the glass growing a millimeter. It's quickly covered by the large pad of Cyclone's thumb.

"I- well, I'm supposed to be here celebrating my Mother's leg-legacy," Another sob-full hiccup breaks up her sentence. Cyclone waits patiently for her to finish. She wipes at the tip of her nose with the back of her hand.

"And, she really liked to shoot whiskey," The explanation is coming out too wet and not at all concise, but Beau is nodding along anyway. The woman is rubbing at her eyes again, this time with her fingertips. She carefully runs her nail along the underside of her waterline, trying to catch the new tears before they streak down her cheeks with the rest of them. It doesn't really work, or even if it does, Cyclone can't tell. New tears fill up the spaces the freshly wiped away ones once occupied.

Despite the unclear delivery, Cyclone gets the message. Ordering two double shots of Tennessee whiskey, his wife's favorite, Cyclone offers his best sympathetic smile to his new drinking companion. Then, as the whiskey is being poured and he is shuffling over to the bar stool next to hers. That one creaks and sways too, but he tries not to pay it too much mind.

"What's your name, kid?" There's that warmth again, breaking through the tightening feeling in his chest.

"Lieutenant Y/N "Monsoon" Mitchell," Monsoon raises her shot glass to Cyclone, offering him a nod. It's such an informal introduction but both are thankful for the lack of salute, the lack of military theatrics, tradition, that they are usually stuck to upholding. After all, what is tradition except peer pressure ringing through from years past.

Cyclone knows her, well, her name, this recruit- on paper at least. Suddenly he feels a bit worse for feeling less alone when he spotted her crying.

"Beau "Cyclone" Simpson," He raises his own glass, moving to tap them together. It's a risky move with the state of the glasses, each sporting chips in their rims and hairline fractures down their side. They share sullen, makeshift smiles, neither putting any sort of heart behind the expression. It's a knowing sort of thing, the look they share, one that says I won't say anything if you won't.

"To my Mama, Lieutenant Maria Davis, the best damn medic the USS Vinson ever saw," Monsoon's toast is simple, but she means every single word. Beau's mouth turns up at the corners, nodding to her in acknowledgment of a good job.

"And too my wife, June, and our baby boy, god rest their souls."

The bottoms of the glasses hit the table before the rim makes contact with their lips. The alcohol goes down with a burn, but it's a welcomed sensation. Anything feels better than swallowing grief and there's too much in the air right now. Cyclone chases the shot with a gulp of his beer. Monsoon doesn't. She rests the cool glass against her warm cheek, squeezing her eyes shut. It's a refreshing feeling, almost like she is being rinsed from the inside out.

The alcohol settles deep within them. She is buzzing, he is a bit queasy. Neither need to say a thing about it. It kind of feels like church- like a well spoken sermon where one sits in the pew the furthest from the crowed, tucked away in the back, poking holes in each lesson the preacher delivers. After all, it's not really God's plan, is it? More dumb luck than divine circumstance. Yet, they are both still there, sitting on stool that could give out at any moment as the lights above them buzz and the world feels a little smaller.

"I was watching the class today. You're a damn good pilot, Monsoon," Beau speaks after a few beats of silence, not quite sure what to say. Go with the truth, right? It would be rude to move back to his original seat, especially after the woman next to him just got control of her tears, so small talk is the next best option. She cracks her eyes open, trying to read the expression that follows the compliment. It looks genuine, if not a little proud, so she nods.

And then the world is a bit smaller, still.

"Thank you, Admiral, sir," She sets the glass down, gentler than he has done the whole night, "That means a lot, coming from such a talented pilot as yourself, sir."

And then Cyclone is chuckling, his chest vibrating. That feeling being the closest thing to godly he has felt in a long time, but it's more Zeus, more Jupitar, than it could have ever been God. Monsoon's words are so genuine and it catches him off guard. Most people who say something like that are trying to kiss his ass so hard that there they all but wear marks on the backside of his trousers.

"Are you getting excited to graduate? The ceremony is next week, right?" He asks, bringing his eyes back to the neon behind her. The light above them flickers, neither one acknowledging it. There is a sort of kinship between the way their souls feel and the state of the bar, where living feels like the flickering of a light, tonight.

"Sir?" The question comes with a tilt of her head, her fingers wrapping loosely around her beer. He watches the condensation drip down the glass, the water disappearing behind her fingertips.

"To graduate," he explains like it's the clearest thing, "To finish Top Gun,"

"Oh!" Monsoon almost chuckles, but her soul is too heavy. She settles on a small smile, as kind as she can manage.

"I don't graduate for another six weeks. Today just wrapped my seventh week here, but halfway done does feel good," He can tell she is holding something back with the way her eyes are pinched at the corners, the smiles on her lips straining a bit under her words. Monsoon looks like she almost doesn't believe the words that are leaving her own mouth, but when Cyclone catches her eyes again he can see that look again, I won't say anything if you won't.

"Oh," Beau's hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, all of a sudden feeling like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "In that case, you are one of the best pilots I've ever seen,"

The words fall from his tongue like they are the simplest thing in the world. His eyebrows are still raised as he downs the rest of his beer. He contemplates Monsoon's career in his head, attempting to think back to files he knows are sitting on his desk, but the alcohol swirls the statistics together in his brain.

"Thank you, sir,"

"Is your father planning on coming to your graduation?" The question is so simple, the next plausible question after toasting to her Mother's life. Monsoon bristles at the question, her expression becoming impossibly more tight, pinched.

"He's uhm," The foam in the bottom of Monsoon's glass is the most interesting thing in the room. Tears are flooding her eyes again, and she's turning back to the shitty bar napkins in the even shittier dispenser. Cyclone knows his question hit a nerve based on how she is frantically pulling napkin after napkin out of the dispenser; and the Admiral's guilt swims to the surface. He is sure that the horizon of it can be seen in his iris's, if Monsoon were to look past the evident sadness that has made a home there. He's pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, blue in color and perfectly folded. He offers it to her and it's taken with a slightly shaky hand.

"M.I.A. or AWOL?" Cyclone asks. There's a bit of humor to his question that neither of them comment on.

"He went AWOL when I was seven," She doesn't take her eyes off the popping foam in the bottom of her glass, "Then I suppose he went M.I.A. three years later, when he stopped sending birthday cards,"

Cyclone hates the way her shrugs are all noncommittal and vaguely unbothered. He would have killed for a chance to raise his child, hell, he would move the Earth if that meant he even had a chance to do something. The fact that a man would walk out on his family, on his own child, it makes him sick. There is still something else Monsoon isn't saying; the way she chuckles is almost wax poetic with the way she rolls her eyes. Cyclone raises an eyebrow at her as he gestures to the bartended for two more on tap.

"I was in Admiral Kazansky's office today," She chuckles again, eyes glassy and unfocused. Cyclone slides the new beer over to her. He brings his up to his lips as she breathes deeply, trying to order the words together in her head, words she can't believe she is about to say out loud.

"There's a fucking picture of my father on his desk," Then she is downing the beer in quick, deep gulps. It's half gone before she sets it back down. Cyclone's brain is working on overdrive, swerving the hazy clouds of intoxication, searching for the mental picture of the Admiral's desk. Monsoon is chuckling in quiet disbelief, picturing the damn photo on his desk, her father and the Admiral shaking hands during their time at Top Gun. It makes her sick, really, but she doesn't need to say it based on the way her face feels, all contorted and ugly.

"I didn't even want to be a fucking pilot," Cyclone doesn't know if she is speaking to him anymore, or if the words are meant for her half empty glass. Hell, the way she speaks them they could be meant for the universe, for Khaos, for the air itself. There's a chip on that glass too, in the smooth side if of it, where it tapers down. He watches as Monsoon rubs her fingertip over it again and again and again.

"What did you want to do?" The question is leaving Cyclone's lips before he can stop it, common sense kicking in too slow. He is kicking himself.

Then, her thumb is stopping.

"I wanted to be a RIO," The glass is lifted to her lips again, her eyes rolling at the mere thought, "I wanted to fly with my Dad,"

The laughter that leave Monsoon's lips is dry as autumn air. Her lips crack too, under the stretch of her half hearted smile- one that holds no joy, it's all lukewarm and apathetic. He watches the skin of her lips crack and separate- it looks painful, and Cyclone has to fight not to grimace at the sight. Blood slowly begins to leak through the new flesh wound, bright red as it crests over the fullness of her bottom lip. He remembers watching the same thing happen to Maverick in the back of a helicopter as the wind whipped around them. But then, Maverick wore a truly joyous smile, one that rounded out his cheeks with a rosy hue that went deeper than the wind burn.

Then it hits Cyclone like a ton of bricks- like pulling 6 G's in a fucking barrel roll. Mitchell. This girl in front of him, this broken, fatherless girl is Pete Michell's kid. As if Cyclone needed another reason to hate the reckless man.

Beau wants to punch Pete Michell so hard that the only thing the man can make out in his field of vision is stars. Either the ones in the sky as he is planted with his back in the dirt, or the ones that would no doubt sparkle behind his eyelids. He wants to watch as the other man bleeds from the nose, the lip, the inside of his mouth. Cyclone can almost see the way the blood would pool in the spaces between Maverick's too white teeth, turning them a sickly vermilion. He would take a little too much pride watching the blood drip out of the corner of Pete's mouth, or down the crest of his chin.

Hell, Pete Michell, bloody, is a justified sight in Cyclone's book.

But that wouldn't help her right now. So Cyclone takes a breath, calming the flames of anger, of Hades that often lick at his legs, at his hands, whenever he so much as thinks about Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

He's a bastard, that much is for sure. And it doesn't seem that Monsoon needs reminding of that fact.

"Well, kid," Beau is hunting, hurting for the right words, "If it's not wrong of me to say- your talents would have been wasted as a fucking RIO, especially for that son of a bitch," That gets Monsoon chuckling. She wants to ask if her grandmother was really that bad, but she doesn't make the joke. Though the laugh sounds a bit strangled as it untangles from the dense pain in her chest, Cyclone is happy to hear it. Something small swells in his heart at the sound.

Somewhere, deep in the cavernous spaces of his soul, a broken part of him feels like a father for the first time in years, even if it isn't exactly proper and the woman in front of him isn't his kid. Cyclone feels like a father, not even in a pseudo sense of the word, but truly like a father, and the feeling warms him from the inside out. It overtakes his whole body, leaving him almost buzzing.

Now it's his turn to chuckle. It's sour with pain and longing, but it's still there. Like joy is trying to crawl it's way out, lukewarm and dripping wet.

"Well, Admiral, sir," Monsoon's voice is a little lighter now, sweeter maybe. Cyclone is watching as she's pulling her coat over her shoulders, "Thank you for the favor, and the drink,"

She's nodding her head in the direction of the half full glass still dripping with condensation.

"Thank you for remembering them with me, too," They share a knowing smile, it's a little broken but it is still warm. Again, it's one of those I won't say anything if you won't looks shared between the pair. They lock eyes one last time before Monsoon is turning on her heel, ready to head right out of the front door.

For just a second Cyclone wonders if Monsoon will shudder with relief in the same way the new Top Gun recruits usually do, or if something as simple as that will effect such a skilled pilot. He wonders if anyone will be there for her on graduation day, or if she will be stuck alone in the seas of families and friends- just like he was all those years ago.

I won't say anything if you won't. Yeah, that's not a chance he's willing to take.

"Wait," Cyclone calls after Monsoon, his voice a little too loud and not at all hesitant enough. Monsoon chances a look back, confusion written into the furrow of her brows. He becons he back with a wave of his hand. Cyclone pulls a business card from his front pocket. "I am going TDY, but I should be back for your graduation," The words don't make sense to Monsoon, and neither does the card that he's presenting her between his two fingers. She is cocking her head to the side again, eyebrows furrowed. Cyclone tries to not notice how much she looks like her father.

He notices anyway.

"Email me, remind me of the date, and I'll be there," He is presenting her the card again with a shake of his wrist. Then, she reaches out, grabbing it with nervous fingers.

"Oh, uh-" There are new tears forming in Monsoon's eyes at the words, the card now swimming in her vision. "Thank you, sir,"

"Oh, better yet," Cyclone plucks the card from her fingertips, a move that may have been considered crass but Monsoon can't help but find a little bit funny. Cyclone quickly scribbles down a phone number in messy loops of blue ink, the numbers taking up a little too much room on the back side of the card. Then, he blows on it carefully to make sure the ink won't smudge before handing the card back out to her in the same manner as before.

"Text me the reminder, so it doesn't get lost in my email," Cyclone's smile is so kind and there is a ribbon of hope, a glimmer, really, shinning through the lightest parts of his irises. Monsoon can barely hold back her tears at the sight, and so the card becomes the most interesting thing in the room, held between her shaking fingertips. "You deserve to have a parent there, kid,"

Those are the last words they share that night. They don't need to say anything else. After all, how do you explain the want to stand in as a lost family member? Beau would never admit just how much he's dying for a kid to support, to cheer on and celebrate. Monsoon knows the feeling too, the want to be a daughter who isn't seen as an inconvenience, a burden.

The next time they see each other, Cyclone is sitting in the front row at her Top Gun graduation, a small bouquet of calla lilies on his lap. There is a proud smile on his face and the moment Monsoon sees it there are tears in her eyes. She wonders if this is the feeling she had been missing out on, a father's pride, his love. She tries not to dwell on it, even as walks across that stage.

When the pair meet in the crowd, Cyclone doesn't hesitate to pull her into a hug, one that may not have been professional or regulated, but he feels a weight come off her shoulders the moment he pulls her in. He feels a little more whole too. The hug is short, quick, really, but there are tears in both of their eyes when they pull back.

Cyclone has so much pride for her, and God, Monsoon can feel it. From the way he beams at her to the way he shoves a camera into the hands of his battle buddy, tucking her under his arm. Both clad in dress uniform, posing for the camera as she holds the flowers against her chest to try and quell the beating of her heart. They both sport tears in their eyes, cheeks round and plump red as they smile too wide.

That photo makes onto his desk a week later, displayed in a beautiful mahogany frame.

USS Stennis. Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Four Years before the organization of the Dagger Squad.

The first time Monsoon calls him Pops, it's an accident. She got shipped out to an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. The tour is lonely. She doesn't know the team, the group who have been stationed there for the last six months, and they weren't overly keen on the 'new girl'. Monsoon made it through three months before she started to feel like a part of the team. It's a conscious choice, really, to keep working at fitting in. But in the end that team, those people, they aren't her family and they aren't going to remember her after she ships back stateside.

Emails to and from Cyclone kept her going, as he reassured her that life on the carrier isn't easy on anyone. He urges her to try and make better friends with those who hold a more permanent position on the vessel, so she does her best to take the newbies under her wing. If she wasn't welcomed, that was out of her control, but she can sure as hell make sure that the newbies are.

The plan starts off a little rough, the new sailors unsure of the overly friendly Lieutenant amongst the standoffish seasoned crew of the vessel. But days turn to weeks, trust is earned and the long days and nights onboard get easier to swallow.

Then, Cyclone gets shipped out to the carrier for a briefing. He can't help the rumble of excitement that tracks through him. He might get to see Monsoon, his kid, and he's going to do everything in his power to track her down on board. 

There is too much joy on his features as he touches down on the carrier. Too much joy for the briefing he is getting ushered into. It drags on longer than necessary as they hash and rehash out plans for missions. He knows he should care, he really does, but it's not like people's lives are on the line this mission. It's all practice runs and jet maintenance, and how could anyone expect him to focus when his kid is on the same vessel and he is just fucking sitting there. Cyclone barely sits still, knowing the clock is ticking down on his time aboard and if this meeting goes on any longer than planned he is going to miss his chance to see Monsoon.

Around suppertime, Monsoon is heading to the canteen, desperate for some sort of nourishment. It has been a long day, trial after trial, and thankfully for her, she's fairing better than some of her other wingmen. At least she hasn't puked over the side of the carrier since her first week aboard.

She guides one of the newer pilots, Story, down the stairs from the flight deck, her stomach rumbling as they go. The new Lieutenant on board hot on her heels as they make their way down the stairs.

"I know, Story, but you're going to get through this," Monsoon's voice is low as they wind their way through the tight hallways of the lower decks. "You're a good pilot, there is nothing you can't do. So what if you need a little more practice. That's why we're out here, right?"

The younger man hums in agreement, disappointment scribbled all over his face. They are both coated in sweat, Monsoon's hair sticking to her sweat soaked skin. She craves a shower almost as much as she craves food. Her body is weighed down with flight fatigue as she drags her feet.

The halls of the ship begin to smell more and more like hot biscuits and butter the closer they get to the mess hall. Their stomach's rumble in unison at the smell wafting down the hallway. Monsoon is rounding the corner with her front turned towards Story, not bothering a glance in the direction her feet are heading. A second later, her back meets a hard body, a grunt coming out of her mouth at the impact.

Story goes white at the sight of his new friend running straight into an Admiral. Monsoon doesn't like the look on his face, he looks like he's just seen a ghost, or maybe prophesied a murder. So she turns around slowly, so, so slowly. Her eyes are scrunched as she turns. There is already an apology on her lips as Monsoon peeks to see just exactly who she just ran into.

Eyes go wide, and smiles break out over their faces.

The need for food, a hot shower, and sleep dissipate from her body as she looks up at the man in front of her, joy overtaking.

"Pops!" The name comes out a little too quick, catching them both of guard. Monsoon's cheeks flush dark with embarrassment, realizing what she just said and who she just said it to. Without warning, Cyclone is pulling Monsoon into his chest, wrapping her into a warm, tight hug, just the kind of hug a Dad would give.

"Hey Kiddo,"

TAG LIST

@its-the-pilot

@t4medicroe

@inkandarsenic

[lieutenantfloyd]

Hi! I'm fairly sure you're taking asks at the moment but feel free to ignore this if you aren't. But would you consider doing a "How they'd react to you on your period" but for the top gun: maverick characters?

How they react when you’re on your period (Headcanons)

Includes: Rooster, Bob, Hangman, Cyclone, Maverick, and Phoenix

Warnings: fluff, domestic bliss, mentions of pain, blood, marriage, and general domesticity— Reader is gender neutral but has a uterus

Authors Note: Life decided to get wild for a minute so this accidentally sat half finished in my drafts for a month and a half along with a Cyclone request I'm now working on again. Also, I included a headcanon each for Coyote and Fanboy at the end as a bonus :)

Rooster:

Bradley, as much as he tries, is still very much "A Guy™"

He's not malicious and he's far from incompetent, he just genuinely doesn't understand what you're going through

He's hesitant to ask questions, so instead he just pays extra close attention to you

If you like to cuddle, he's all over it

And if you don't, he's always lurking nearby, waiting for you to need him

Either way, he's noticing everything, and he's kinda horrified

Once your relationship is fairly progressed, he'll pull you aside and ask all the questions he was too scared to ask before

He wants to know all about your symptoms, emotions, and any way he can make the time a little less miserable

Rooster is such a family fan, and once he has a grasp on what you need, he's jumping head first into action

He shows his affection by being strong for you but also accidentally super clingy

Like he’s genuinely not letting you leave his sight

He's still a little hesitant at first about upsetting you or getting things wrong, but he's the type of man willing to do whatever he can to keep you happy

He isn't the best cook, but he tries

Do you both end up eating cereal for multiple meals? Yes

Does your teasing being met with his apology kisses make them the best bowls of cereal you’ll ever have? Absolutely

Will 1000% get you your favorite snacks though, even if that means making an emergency trip to the store at midnight because you offhandedly mentioned something

Bob:

Your sweet darling angel Bob has zero clue what's happening or how to help, but he's determined to try his absolute BEST

If your relationship is still new and you're staying together when you get your period, this man straight up thinks you're dying

Like obviously he knows how this works—far more than other guys you’ve been around, because that's just how Bob is

But he lives his life always a bit on edge and has a massive tendency to panic

So his mind instantly goes to worst case scenario aka there’s been an accident and you're now bleeding out

He just loves you SO MUCH and he is SO SCARED

It takes a bit of effort to calm him down, mostly in the form of kisses and reassurance, but once you explain everything he's good as new

…minus his still racing heart

Bob is the type to bombard you with questions when he's concerned

"Are you comfortable?" "Are you hungry?" "Do you need anything?"

May or may not accidentally propose when he's initially worried (even if you're already married)

Now you’re both slightly panicking, cuddled up in bed together looking at rings or your wedding album

Bob takes his role as your partner so seriously, and just wants to feel useful in any way he can

You might spend an almost equal amount of time comforting Bob as he spends comforting you, but it nonetheless gets your mind of things

Relationships are about give and take, and a life with Bob is sweet as pie

Hangman:

Hangman, despite his flirtatious personality, is the type of guy parents want their kids to end up with

He’s a total l lover boy at heart, priding himself in keeping you happy at all times

That means he's shockingly well prepared for this, and is genuinely confused if you didn’t think he wouldn’t be

To him it’s basic stuff, simply just “what a good boyfriend does”

And if you try to explain how men typically are about periods, he’s looking you dead in the eyes and saying, “We both know I’m one of a kind.”

The argument pretty much ends there, and he’s right back to being boyfriend of the year—this time without your questioning protests

Shortly into your relationship he’ll ask you out of the blue about your needs and preferences, and ever since then has kept them STOCKED

To him you're the #1 priority, and making sure you have everything you need to be comfortable is just as intuitive for him as knowing what size clothes you wear or adjusting the air conditioner on your side of his truck as soon as he gets in

He'll take it upon himself to make everything he can control as calm and stress free as possible, with laundry is done, dishes washed, and dinner on the table before you can even think about it

If you're feeling up to it, he'll take you on cute little dates to get your mind off things

He stays hyper aware of you the whole time, ready to whisk you away if you start to feel bad or you’re social battery is suddenly empty

He’s physically clingy by nature, and that only triples when he thinks you need some extra love

He's 120% committed to being a gentleman to you always, so he won’t ambush you with cuddles

but he will open his arms any time you look even vaguely in his direction :)

Cyclone:

Whether you're dating, married, or even just friends with benefits, this man is nothing if not a provider

If you are in any way connected to him, he has made it abundantly clear that you are to call him whenever you need anything—no matter how insignificant

He's admittedly out of his element when it comes to periods, but he’s a grown man, competent enough to admit what he doesn’t know and not let that phase him one bit

On days when time got away from you and you’re now out of pads/tampons and the store is closing in thirty minutes, he's in his car the second your text comes through

He’ll show up at your door in under an hour, carrying multiple packs of exactly what you need, along with groceries for the week and frozen yogurt from your favorite shop across town

When you question him about it, he simply says he does it “because he can”

Choosing to conveniently leave out the fact that he knows you have a busy week ahead, and not having to worry about getting to the grocery store is an easy way for him to take a little bit of stress off of your plate

He’s the type to have meticulously organized notes in his phone that list all your favorite things, what's on your wishlist, your go to restaurant orders, etc

This comes in handy not only when he wants to spoil you (which is always), but also when you’re not feeling well and are in need of some extra love and care

Like Phoenix, you’re his number one priority, and knowing something is off triggers both his protective and caregiver tendencies.

He will do anything he can to make your life easier, and gets genuinely angry at the thought of you having to expend any more energy than absolutely necessary

He's shockingly big into quality time, and loves to spend nights with you on the couch or in bed

He runs insanely warm, and while you often joke about him being the human equivalent of a space heater, your complaints become nothing but praise when you have cramps or just want a comforting hug

In the same vein, he gives the best massages ever

His hands are big and just as warm as the rest of him, plus he's strong with fingertips just rough enough to feel great against your skin

He’s not the type to ever bombard you with his presence, but if he’s not working, he’s more than happy to spend all the time he can with you

Phoenix:

this lovely lady would be the absolute sweetest

She's all too familiar with what you’re going through, and is committed to making this week of your life unnotable in the best possible way

Seeing you at all uncomfortable or feeling down sends her protective tendencies into overdrive

Every minute she's not in the air, she's waiting on you hand and foot

Phoenix is such a caretaker, and it comes second nature to her

You’ll have to promise that you really are fine, and while she isn’t 100% convinced, she will at least let you walk your dogs or help with dinner

She absolutely loves taking baths with you, so much that it’s practically one of her love languages

Physical touch and quality time are both such big things for her, and there are few things more intimate than talking about your day while you share a glass of wine and wash each other's hair

At the end of the day she just wants her partner to feel comfortable and loved at all times, and she'll do anything she can to make that happen

Maverick:

When your period comes, this man is certifiably lost It’s not because he doesn't care, he's just a little (endearingly) oblivious

A facet of your relationship centers around how, between his free-spirited personality and after so many years spent dedicated only to his career, Maverick just isn't used to having to think about anyone else

but if theres one thing Mav has proven time and time again, it’s that he isn't one to back down from a challenge

Once he's caught on to your "situation" (as he calls it), he's going to ask questions that total in the hundreds

Asks about your cravings, type and descriptions of your pain, preferences over products and medications, etc

He genuinely wants to know everything, because then he’ll know how to help

He's a bit of a walking disaster, and he'd far too restless to cuddle

but if it’s your thing he’ll try for you, so long as you’re ready to listen to his endless wild stories :)

Instead of simply assuming you're down for his spur-of-the-moment adventures (or just disappearing for days like he used to before you got together), he'll actually come out and invite you along

He also makes a conscious effort to check in with you throughout the day, sending you quick texts to let you know he’s safe and thinking about you

This eventually gets fully implemented into your relationship when Maverick realizes he's very invested in what you do all day—no matter how mundane it seems to you

If you spent all day in bed scrolling your phone, he wants to know all the details about everything you looked at

If you went grocery shopping that afternoon, he wants to know all about what you’re cooking and what new products and snacks you saw while you were there

To him everything has the potential to be an adventure, you just how to have the right outlook

Slowly, you'll start noticing more and more of your favorite things popping up around the hangar

Your favorite snacks and a bottle of your preferred painkillers in the cabinet, extra pillows and fluffy blankets left lying around, a heating pad or two…

You don't say anything and he’ll never address it, but you can't help but notice the soft look in his eyes when he sees you using something he bought just for you

Cyclone:

Whether you're dating, married, or even just friends with benefits, this man is nothing if not a provider

If you are in any way connected to him, he has made it abundantly clear that you are to call him whenever you need anything—no matter how insignificant

He's admittedly out of his element when it comes to periods, but he’s a grown man, competent enough to admit what he doesn’t know and not let that phase him one bit

On days when time got away from you and you’re now out of pads/tampons and the store is closing in thirty minutes, he's in his car the second your text comes through

He’ll show up at your door in under an hour, carrying multiple packs of exactly what you need, along with groceries for the week and frozen yogurt from your favorite shop across town

When you question him about it, he simply says he does it “because he can”

Choosing to conveniently leave out the fact that he knows you have a busy week ahead, and not having to worry about getting to the grocery store is an easy way for him to take a little bit of stress off of your plate

He’s the type to have meticulously organized notes in his phone that list all your favorite things, what's on your wishlist, your go to restaurant orders, etc

This comes in handy not only when he wants to spoil you (which is always), but also when you’re not feeling well and are in need of some extra love and care

Like Phoenix, you’re his number one priority, and knowing something is off triggers both his protective and caregiver tendencies.

He will do anything he can to make your life easier, and gets genuinely angry at the thought of you having to expend any more energy than absolutely necessary

He's shockingly big into quality time, and loves to spend nights with you on the couch or in bed

He runs insanely warm, and while you often joke about him being the human equivalent of a space heater, your complaints become nothing but praise when you have cramps or just want a comforting hug

In the same vein, he gives the best massages ever

His hands are big and just as warm as the rest of him, plus he's strong with fingertips just rough enough to feel great against your skin

He’s not the type to ever bombard you with his presence, but if he’s not working, he’s more than happy to spend all the time he can with you

Bonus:

Coyote is the type of guy to ask you to go hiking with him on the worst day of your period. He doesn't see anything wrong with this because "being active will make you feel better".

Fanboy uses your self care time to cuddle up with you, with the ulterior motive of making you rewatch the Star Wars franchise for the millionth time, with fun facts and his original commentary included.

[attapullman]

✏️ (temperature check on the fivesome fic lmaoooo)

Alexa! How dare you bring up the cursed fivesome! (jk so glad someone else remembers it's existence 😜)

Tbh I have hit such a dead end with this fic. Not because it's not delicious, but to be canon to my dream it needs to have Hangster. But do I really want to add to that fandom space? It's been a disaster. Anyway...if anyone wants to convince me to write about riding Rooster while Hangman plows him in the middle of a fivesome, let me know!

For those new here, the Cursed Fivesome is the you x Cyclone x Bob x Rooster x Hangman fic that came from a very explicit dream I had and will one day finish. But here's a snippet for now! (I've probably shared this before but whatever, this is my blog)

“Hi, sweet girl,” Jake coos, hands finding your hips as he helps you situate yourself over Bradley’s cock. That smug grin cemented on his face as you sink around Rooster, two pairs of rough hands grabbing at your hips as you close your eyes and whimper. You’ve been in this position - and the reverse on a few occasions - more than you can count since being stationed at Fighter Island, but the stretch of Rooster isn’t something you’d ever adjust too. Long and thick, just like that built body he struts through the locker room. 

-- from the Cursed Fivesome aka Slut in the Shower aka this actually has no title

WIP ASK GAME ✏️