#don't leave me hanging please-

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

PAIRING: jake "hangman" seresin x original character

SUMMARY: jake and jessie have been best friends since high school. now in the navy as some of the country's best pilots, the strength of their relationship is put to the test when they're assigned to the same mission for the first time.

OC INFO: jessie "dice" rosales || faceclaim: adria arjona

PARTS:

01 – it must be exhausting (always rooting for the anti-hero)

02 – spinning out, waiting for you (to pull me in)

03 – and i'm just an arrogant son of a bitch (who can't admit when he's sorry)

04 - man i hate this part of texas (three clicks and i'm home)

05 - but if you decide to, i’ll ride in this life with you (i won’t let go ’til the end)

playlist || masterlist

[disorganised-bagel]

Bagel, please, I must see more sillies. Would you ever possibly draw more perfectdolls? (Totally hope I do not sound insane or rude, I just love the cute little drawings you've shared so far!)

hbskjbn?? this is so incredibly nice what???? vjhkskh?????

i am definitely not an artist, but i am so beyond flattered??? huh?????

throws perfectdolls at you

the sillies :D

also here's some ocean/jane too :)

this one is technically fanart for the fic no one deserves to be alone by beepsinquestion (please go read that entire series, it's so good)

i don't really know how to draw jane, but an attempt was made :'D

thank you so much for the ask??? i'm gonna go cry now maybe???? /pos /hj

have a wonderful day :D

[sapphicstars09]

okay darlings let's play!!

I wanted to celebrate 420 followers so...

my asks are open for anyone who wants me to rate their blog

or

make a moodboard based on the vibes/aesthetic of their blog

or

anyone who wishes to ask any personal questions, you can ask for pictures too (I'll choose what to share of course)

hopefully this is fun enough to celebrate, so let the games begin... ask me anything!!

[lesamis]

Hello Lilli! I remember you talking a lot about romanticism a few years ago and I have just finished my first semester of university where we studied different movements in modern literature. So I was wondering if you had thoughts on whether romanticism was something new, because that was the message I learned from fve course, but I dont think it can be correct?

hi anon! this is a pretty interesting question. i think there's a tendency in introductory classes to maybe simplify things a bit, and that might have led you to feel unsettled by what you were meant to take away from that class.

so to start by making life a bit more difficult: after putting way too many hours of my limited time on earth into getting way too many degrees studying romanticism, i don't think there's such a thing as romanticism. this is some basic deconstruction you might encounter or have encountered in introductory lit theory classes. like, "romanticism", as we use it, isn't something you can touch or see or find lying around on the side of the road. it's not even something that writers we think of as romantic thought they were doing, or adding to. it's a term we made up to describe the fact that, at some point in the 18th century, literary conventions changed in a certain way.

so just by using the term romanticism, to some extent, we're already assuming that it was something new. if there was no observable difference at all between romantic writing and everything that came before, we can do away with the word: we don't need it.

so. can we do away with it? i don't think so. like all terms to describe artistic or literary movements, it's a useful shorthand that does its job well. if i say "wordsworth was a romantic poet", that gives you valuable information, because it lets you associate some more or less commonly known features of the era - a simpler register, a wariness of industrialisation, a more commonplace poetic subject, a more socially conscious politics - with wordsworth.

this doesn't mean no one in the world had ever used simple vocabulary for poetry before, or that no one had ever written poetry about clouds or cats or washerwomen, or that no one had used poetry to advocate for political change before. none of those things are "new"; none of them probably have been new since humans first wrote literary works.

instead, it means that these features came together in a way that was unusual for one certain part of the world (britain) at one certain point in history (turn of the 19th century). as a professor, this is where i'd stop. making "romanticism" a Thing of its own with a claim to absolute novelty in world history is, in my opinion, saying too much.

so tl;dr: i do think romanticism was something new for the english language in britain around 1800, if we assume it was anything at all :')

[sketch-twentytwo]

Love that Travis is getting another chance to DM!

HOWEVER

GRIFFIN MCELROY, RELEASE ANOTHER SEASON OF ETHERSEA AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

[anaalnathrakhs]

no really there is a special kind of academic grief when your classes are fascinating, they present interesting challenges, your homework is stimulating, fun to do, and you feel good when you get it done, your classmates are kind and fun and have so much interesting shit to say.

but you're wayyy busy spending your time 50% trying to be the best potted plant your parents have ever owned 50% blasting your brain with endless stimulation lest you start crying and hitting yourself because you had an unpleasant thought.

[mossyflowers]

THE FUCKING TRIG POST BLEW UP AGAIN

[nexus-nebulae]

ppl always say that autistics don't get jokes but honestly when has a neurotypical person ever clocked the fact that I've told a clearly telegraphed joke like. I'm the one who takes everything too seriously?

[fr3aklike-me]

I've realized that I have MASSIVE expectations for romance. like, I think having had a general lack of experience, along with having gone through bad or just meh experiences, have made me very intensely crave a specific kind of love

[euseokz]

u being a yuta stan just makes so much sense

wait no now i wanna know why that is . . 👀

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: and i’m just an arrogant son of a bitch (who can’t admit when he’s sorry)

PAIRING: jake seresin x f!original character

TAGS: bradley bradshaw pov (not necessarily a warning just an fyi), cursing, angst, not 100% proofread (so don't kill me for grammatical errors pls)

A/N: WE ARE SO BACKK!! ok so preface, this part is entirely from bradley’s pov. i touched on it briefly in the original working of this fic and i felt like i could've fleshed it out a lot more so here we are. there's also some choices that i make that i hope some of you catch ;) there’s some big changes from the og direction this story was going bc i just didn't like it but anyways, i really hope you like it! lmk your thoughts <3

if you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

previous part || masterlist || next part

Don’t take for granted the love this life gives you. - Tim McGraw

In the 12 years Bradley Bradshaw has known Hangman, they’ve never gotten along. It was a known fact amongst almost every naval aviator around their age. So it didn’t come as a surprise that they continued to butt heads during their return to Top Gun. The light jabs at his ego and that stupid cheeky smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered across Hangman’s face were expected. Unsurprisingly enough, those expectations were fulfilled quite quickly when Bradley set foot back into the Hard Deck. What did come as a surprise, however, was how much one person could change everything.

Admittedly, he assumed Jessie ‘Dice’ Rosales would mirror Hangman at the revelation that she was his best friend—yet another pain in the ass he’d have to deal with. Having been practically attached to the hip with Hangman since she arrived, she was the last person he expected to come looking for him after his incident with Maverick. She didn’t know him, yet she was the only person besides Natasha to check in on him. How could a person so caring as her be so close to someone who seem to care less? There it was again. Assumptions and expectations.

“I know who he is to you. Who Maverick is to you.” At that, Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed, and for the first time since she had come to check in on him, he finally really looked at her. She was sat across from him in the same position—her knees pulled slightly to her chest, arms resting on top of them with her hands clasped—but now in her civilian clothes, hair down and slightly damp. “How?”

She scoffed. “S’not a hard connection to make when he’s standing next to someone that looks just like you also named Bradshaw in the class of ’86 photo in the rec room. Only a matter of time before someone else takes a good look at that old picture and puts two and two together.” He hummed. He’d forgotten it was there. Since he saw it for the first time when he went through Top Gun himself a few years ago, he’d avoided that part of the rec room like the plague. When he didn’t speak, she continued. “What doesn’t make sense to me though is the bad blood…” Just as he was quick to dismiss her, Jessie was even quicker to cut him off so she could finish. “I didn’t want to push because that’s your own business, but I won’t let you do reckless shit because of it. I know you don’t like Jake—and me by extension—but this is gonna be a team. A team that’s about to be sent out on what seems like a suicide mission. So get your head in the fucking game, Bradshaw.”

—

It was awkward trying to do a team bonding exercise the following day after his and Hangman’s altercation. “Dog fight football,” Maverick called it which seemed like a horrible concept upon introduction. But then he found himself holding Bob on his shoulders an hour or so later, the brightest smile on his face. By the time they finished, the Hard Deck was open for business, most of them making their way over to the bar. Just as he was making his way over, a voice called over from by the water. “Bradshaw!”

He wasn’t sure why he stopped in his tracks. Bradley knew who it was. Why he decided he’d give Hangman more of his time just so the other could boast he couldn’t tell you. “What d’you want, Hangman?”

The annoyance in Bradley’s voice was sharp and heavy, something that came automatically after years of dealing with him. It didn’t take him long to catch up to Bradley. He waited for a snarky remark about his football skills. Honestly, he expected everything else besides the words that actually came out of the other man’s mouth. “I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Look, I know we’ve never been friendly but what I said yesterday was beyond fucked up. If I could take it back, I would. I’m sorry.” It’s as if the man who stood before him was another person who wore Hangman’s face. Bradley was so taken aback, all he did was stare at him. Considering how long he’d known Hangman, the words I’m sorry didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary. Before he could figure out what to say, Hangman continued. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just- I’m really sorry.”

“Jake!” The voice caused both of them to look over at the owner of the voice. There stood Jessie, two beers in hand. “Yeah?” Hangman replied back.

“Beers getting warm!” At that, Hangman gave Bradley a pat on the shoulder and wistful smile before jogging over to where Jessie stood. It was just two words. Two normal words that he’s heard countless times throughout his life. After each of his parent’s deaths. After someone accidentally bumps into him. Yet those very two words seem to completely changed his entire opinion on the man he thought he had all figured out. Bradley watched as Hangman threw an arm around her as she handed him his bottle. It was like deja vu to a memory from his youth he only vaguely remembered. Not that he was old enough to actually remember much about his father but the amount of stories recounted after his passing, at some point it began to feel like he could, but they were always blurry images just out of reach. Is this how Maverick feels when he looks at him?

—

With each training session and the mission date growing ever so closer, it felt as if the mission was impossible. Each failure felt more brutal than the last. Then their timeline shrunk. The stress of the job took away from their socialization, nights now ending with faces falling flat on pillows immediately after work more often than not. When the news of Admiral Kazansky’s passing reached Bradley, he was in the middle of a heated argument with Maverick. Besides Maverick and his mother, Iceman was always there. Uncle Ice he used to call him.

As nice as the city of San Diego was, Bradley couldn't help the sliver of hatred he held for it. It’s beauty, unfortunately, tainted by loss to which he now had to add yet another person to the list. His dad. His mom. Now Uncle Ice. Bradley planned on seeing him while he was out here at one point. His mom kept telling him to not take things, especially things that he loved, for granted. Why didn’t he listen?

In a flash, it was time for them to head out. To Admiral Simpson’s dismay, Maverick was appointed team leader after his little stunt after having basically been fired.  That left him the choices of two foxtrot teams and one wingman. “Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

Breaths that were held by foxtrot squads were released, some of relief and some of disappointment. All that was left was who Maverick wanted as his wingman. There were only a few left to pick. Rooster. Hangman. Dice. Omaha. Coyote. The tension in the air as they waited for Maverick was choking them. In those few seconds, Bradley ran through the chances he'd be chosen, pulling from both professional and personal reasoning. Their personal issues kept outweighing everything else in his mind. “Rooster.”

The color drained out of his face. His body shook as he took in a sharp breath. Even being so stuck in his head, he noticed how Hangman's body shook and then immediately tensed when Mav announced his name instead of his. When they were dismissed, it was as if someone had flipped the autopilot switch. If you had looked at him for longer than a second, you could see the absence in his eyes. It was a given that he’d be nervous. This mission could kill him. Maybe Hangman was right. He flew comfortably. He was good, but he took the easy road and nothing about this mission was easy.

A gentle hand pulled him from his thoughts. The words she spoke were as if she had read his mind. “You got this. Maverick chose you for a reason. Just fly.”

The deck was crowded, everyone preparing the Daggers for takeoff. Hangman walked in his path, his jaw clenched. Since that night a few weeks ago, he couldn't read him anymore. The small glimpse at genuineness shattered his whole perspective on the man. The change was subtle but immense. Micro expressions he used to gloss over seemed to be the only things he noticed now. Judgment that once was clouded by anger and annoyance morphed into understanding. “You give ‘em hell,” he yelled over the roaring engines of their jets. Then he was gone. Maybe if he got out of this alive, he'd give Jake Seresin a chance.

—

It was a rare sight to see the two rivaling pilots smiling at each other, let alone shaking each other’s hands. Jake Seresin just saved his and Mav’s life—it was the least he could do. “Chalked yourself another kill,” Bradley remarked with a smile.

“That makes two.” Natasha pointed out as she shook her head, a similar grin on her own face. “Mav has five—makes him an ace.” Bradley turned back to look at Jake and shrugged. He and Jake shared a mutual pat on the shoulder and nod of respect before going their separate ways.

Soon enough, they were all back on solid ground and celebrating at the Hard Deck. After playing a few songs on the piano and a few rounds of pool, he stepped outside to get some fresh air. The combination of Iceman’s death and Bradley’s own near-death experience gave him a sense of clarity. Choices that he made in his life he wished he should and shouldn’t have made. People that he’s pushed away. People that he’s kept an arm’s length away. Childish grudges. Despite being only 38 years old, Bradley Bradshaw was a man of many regrets. But that wasn’t what he sat in on the beach thinking about. He spent the entire trip back home reflecting on that. No, he was thinking about the two people that reminded him of his parents just a week ago. So many people over the years have told Bradley that he reminds them of his father, a statement he never quite believed. Sure, he looked like his old man with the Hawaiian button downs and mustache, but that was where the resemblance ended. Nick and Carole Bradshaw seemed to be a rarity in the world. Then he met Jessie Rosales and saw the way she and Jake Seresin looked at each other. The glances when the other wasn’t looking that lasted longer than they should have, but it was never his business. He had just met Jessie, and Jake wasn’t his friend. He still wasn’t—at least not yet—but she was now. A good one at that. Now with the regret of not getting the chance to truly reconcile with Maverick having plagued his mind just mere days ago, he couldn’t help projecting those feelings onto them. Bradley had taken so many things for granted in his life, a mistake he’ll spend the rest of his life making up for. It’s not like he’s playing matchmaker, he just wanted to give them a little push.

So when familiar footsteps crunched across the sand behind him, he made up his mind. She took a seat next to him in the sand. “Alright, Bradshaw?”

He hummed and took a sip of the beer he’d been nursing since he sat outside. “Just watching the sun set.” Nodding her head, she pulled her knees up against her chest, rested her chin on top of them and looked out to the water. He appreciated how understanding she was during moments like this. There wasn’t a need to check up on him nor was there a need for her to stay here and sit in silence with him yet here she was. That contrast between her and her best friend bewildered him at first but the idea that they were polar opposites seemed to fade the more time he spent around them. “Tell me about you and Hang- Jake. You and Jake.”

She smiled at the question. “Well,” she started. “What do you wanna know?”

What did he want to know? “How long have you been in love with him?” At that, she almost spit out her drink from the shock at the question Bradley posed. “Wh-what?”

“Do I really need to repeat myself, Dice?”

She looked back to the Hard Deck and at the man in question through the window as he played pool before she turned and shook her head. “S’not like that, Rooster.”

Bradley let out a huff at her denial. “He’s in love with you too, ya know.”

“No, he’s not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’ve known each other for over twenty years!” Her voice quickly raised in frustration at Bradley’s insistence before returning to her usual calm demeanor. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, Bradley. I can’t even remember what my life was like before I met him. If he was in love with me, he would have said something by now. I’d rather have him as a friend than not at all.” 

Bradley let out a sigh and paused for a moment to figure out how to continue the conversation. As they sat in silence, both of them turned to watch the sun set. Just as the star appeared to hit the horizon did Bradley speak again. “Mav used to love telling me stories about my dad after he died. How he basically begged my mom to give him a chance. How the look in his eyes when his gaze was set on her was always the same—a look of love and adoration. I didn’t believe him ’til I looked at the polaroids Mav used to sneak of them when they weren’t looking. For years, I thought that I was never gonna find two people that looked at each other like that—loved each other as much as they did. That is until I saw you and him.” 

“Brad…”

He quickly cut her off, speaking without abandon so all she could do was listen to him. “He loves you, Jess. Why he hasn’t said anything is beyond me. It’s so unbearably obvious that you both are in love with each other even if you don’t see it yourself. What I’ve learned these past few days is that you can’t take things for granted, especially things—people that you love. I know what it feels like to regret not holding onto and cherishing the time I had with people who cared for me. I don’t want you make that same mistake.” When he finished and he looked back at her, it was hard to tell how she felt about his tangent with the way her eyebrows furrowed. He hasn’t known her long enough to know if this specific crease in her forehead came from anger, shock, or sadness. Maybe it was all of the above?

“I don’t wanna lose him,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“You won’t,” he reassured without hesitation. For the decade that Bradley has known Hangman, he was so sure of himself that he understood who the other man was. He was the one who created that stupid story behind his callsign that everyone but Jake retells after all. But in the month he’s been around him and Jess, that philosophy was flipped on it’s head. Jake Seresin wasn’t the douchebag he thought he was. 

if you want to be added to the taglist, click here!

the playlist // taglist: @dempy @bellaireland1981 @princessashley99 @whateverbagman @blairfox04

[imagineacoolusername]

i wanna draw flowers, what's y'all's favourite flower?

[ikebanaka]

Chewing on my hands and the fucking furniture because my current favorite fic hasn't updated in over twice as long as usual, after a serious cliffhanger

God gives his most dopamine sucking battles to his most ADHD soldiers, and brother I am in the fucking trenches

[squadrah]

Idk why but I always headcanoned illuso as trans fem/ a trans woman. Just think it fits her. I will give information to you now farewell

You come to me with words of interest and then drop "now farewell" at the end? No you don't, please tell me/us more, I love trans headcanons!

[cringefailfagcat]

the way one of my friends offered to get people drinks. one of the others asked for a rum and coke, so i asked for a vodka lemonade n then they stood right behind me and went 'is olive allowed to drink?' it killed something inside me a little bit. like i wasn't episoding i've been responsible about my drinking recently don't take away my autonomy when i'm capable of looking after myself please. i know i barely can but don't. don't make this one of the few things people will actually talk to me for

[cinnamoncountess]

A mirror of each other?

In regards to my favorite 1899 triangle, this time looking at Ramiro and Krester in particular, I do wonder if it has been a deliberate choice to portray them as "mirrors" of each other, in regards to cinematographic choices and framing. Since the show has been cancelled we probably won't receive an answer to this, but it's conspicuous that they didn't do it once, but at least twice.

In episode 2:

Here it is most obvious, as these two scenes are blending into each other.

In episode 4:

This parallel in hand movements is quick to be missed, but not if you pay attention. Both of them raise their hands in a defensive manner, trying to de-escalate the situation.

What's the meaning behind this? Is there a meaning behind this after all??

These two don't share any dialogue and still, I can't get this out of my head for some reason...