#thank you for this one mav

[anhonest-puck]

SOMEBOADY SEDATE MEEEEEEEE ☹️☹️

(aka., neil finding something else to be mentally ill about.)

[shit-sorry-fuck-mybad]

Give me widower Mav who has come to terms with his husband’s death and now gets to make jokes and comments about it which makes people uncomfortable while he finds it hilarious pls

As someone who lost their father a long time ago I have reached that point where I can make jokes and comments and like to my close friends it’s funny but to someone I don’t know it’s… strange cause they don’t know how to react and it’s truly a small moment of absolute joy cause they make it weirder than it needs to be

Here is what I mean:

Fanboy: Hi Mav! I like your hoodie!

Mav: thanks, it belonged to my dead husband

Fanboy:

Mav: he’s not gonna use it so

…

Hangman, pointing at the ring on Mav’s dog tags: you’re married?

Mav: I was, but sadly he died on a terrible accident

Hangman: oh I’m sorry—

Mav: I’m kidding, he didn’t die on an accident

Hangman: oh thank god I thought I—

Mav: he died of cancer

…

Mav: my husband used to hate this movie

Phoenix: what made him change his mind?

Mav: oh he didn’t, he just died

…

Mav: I miss my husband

Coyote: why, where is he?

Mav: I want to say heaven but he was a weird man so honestly I don’t know

…

Cyclone: Maverick where is the paperwork I asked for

Mav: oh I’m sorry? I was mourning the death of my husband, in case you hadn’t noticed, the audacity, I cannot believe you would come for a widower like this—

[compacflt]

the thought of icemav celebrating christmas together makes me a bit crazy. what do they give each other???

usually nothing . That’s kind of a big deal. in the 80s/90s they’d (reluctantly) celebrate Christmas with carole and bradley (who took that shit kinda seriously) so they wouldn’t really do anything by themselves. Maybe go out for a nice clandestine dinner just cause. After Carole dies and Bradley’s papers get pulled from the academy, ice’s low key newfound interest in celebrating christmas is one of his many many ways to try and normalize relations between him & maverick and try to improve their relationship in the conspicuous absence of the rest of their family. but yes he does make an effort—as does mav—to take advantage of holiday time to be with him as often as possible so, though their schedules don’t always line up, after 2006 they spend about 3/4 xmases together

Ice has very few hobbies besides a.) lovingly working on his cars & plane and b.) reading, so he is exceptionally easy to shop for (as most hobbyless men are): nice tie pins, cufflinks, those unnecessarily expensive hardcover books about weird random topics you find in airport bookstores, fountain pens, nautical /aeronautical themed paperweights, nice leather watchbands etc. highbrow rich guy stuff

Maverick has sooooo many stupid little hobbies that each last between 4-6 months so he is ridiculously hard to shop for— “i thought you were into woodworking so i got you some tools :)!” “uh no that was in April. im trying to learn how to make wallets now” :( so mostly if ice ever gets him anything it’s usually just an expensive dinner date in the city or cash in a blank card or a blank signed check for airplane parts for the next year. Buy whatever you want idc <3

any and all gifts are given with extremely little fanfare PLEASE don’t make it a big deal… hidden around the house with a little “merry xmas!” note attached, or shoved into each others suitcases pre-leaving-for-navy-reasons, or unceremoniously dropped into one’s lap while he’s watching tv, “here you go,” “oh, this is nice, thanks!” Et cetera. love language of gifts/acts of service, but, like, very quietly.

[redfurrycat]

Mav, before he made a bet with Ice: CAPT

Mav, after he lost a bet with Ice: VADM

*

Mav: FUCK YOU, ICE.

Ice: 😘

[silvercap]

17 and Chreon!!!!!

:))

Leon's drunk. The world spins around him as he stumbles through the door of his apartment, a hysterical giggle escaping him when he slams into the frame and spills out across the floor like a sack of potatoes. He thinks he hits his head, but it doesn't hurt and he's closing the door with his boot a moment later, so all's well that ends well. The stability of the cold hardwood is nice, and Leon sighs, fumbling for his flask. If only he could stop thinking for once. His last mission had been a total wreck, and it seems that no amount of alcohol is enough to drive away the lingering melancholy and guilt that plagues him like a shadow. He's fucked up too many times; gotten one too many good people killed, and he can't take it anymore. It's the same thing every single time.

He needs a distraction.

"Wanna fuck?" he slurs the moment Chris answers his call, grinning up at the ceiling. "I'm in town again. Last time didn't go so hot, but I wanna apologize, and---"

"Are you drunk?" Chris demands, and Leon imagines him frowning his telltale Redfield scowl at the phone. He laughs.

"Yeah, maybe. Offer still stands."

Chris's sigh is heavy on the other end of the line, but his voice is warm when he responds.

"Yeah, I'll come over."

Leon doesn't remember the rest of the conversation, and when he comes back to himself he's hunched over the toilet, vomiting as someone strokes the back of his neck soothingly.

"Shit," he moans, shivering. His leather jacket has gone missing, and he blinks in confusion, struggling to remember what he'd last been doing.

"Better?" Chris's voice rumbles, and Leon fights the dizziness to look up at his worried face. "Let's get you to bed, huh?"

Bed. Chris. Leon suddenly remembers what he'd been doing, and he leans in when Chris helps him up by the arm, nuzzling the space between his muscular shoulder and jaw.

"S'nice to see you again," he mumbles, eyes closing as he inhales the familiar clean scent of Chris's soap and cologne. Honestly, he could just stay like this for the rest of the night, but Chris came here for a reason and he intends to follow through. He drops to his knees, hands on Chris's thighs. "This okay?"

"Leon." Chris sounds faintly horrified. He's not sure why.

He's back on his feet before he knows it, Chris all but dragging him out of the bathroom and into the hazy mess of colors he knows must be his apartment. The bed is soft beneath him when he collapses into the mattress, and he's vaguely aware of blankets being drawn over his body. When he can focus again, Chris is sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, a gentle hand stroking through his hair. A lump forms in his throat.

"We can talk in the morning," Chris says softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Leon's forehead. "But for now, you should get some sleep, okay?"

Leon's not even sure why he's crying, but when Chris stands to leave he lashes out with a hand, clumsily grabbing hold of his wrist.

"Stay?" he begs, and Chris leans down to kiss him again.

"Of course."

[actuallyitsstar]

CHARACTER ASK GAME

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell + 21, 24 and 25?

✨ send me a number and a character! ✨

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

i actually already answered this question here, so i will give an honorary mention for this ask, in addition: i am a big fan of the whole tgm-mav-lowkey-being-the-daggers'-friends'-cool-dad trope. like. the idea that they get to know him after the mission and he's obviously taken a genuine interest in all of them and their wellbeing so they all just...stay in touch. the idea that the call and check up on him when they know rooster is deployed, that they start to leave a few extra things at mav's place because he usually hosts their squad movie nights and it's just easier to crash there sometimes, that they realize he doesn't have many people to spend the holidays with now outside of obviously bradley, and they all come together and drag him to a surprise christmas party with them before they go on their own leave for their respective family christmases. that's their emotional support old navy captain and if u wanna mess w him u gotta get thru 11 daggers and 1 son first so good luck!!!

that being said, tho, it can go too far i think, if we're not careful. barring a couple specific circumstances (jake and whatever fucked up childhood/non-existent parental relationships he has had comes to mind) the daggers all have families of their own, and entire lives before meeting mav. i don't think he's like. their DAD per se. he's their friends' cooler than expected dad ('your dad is an ace? that's so cool! i wonder if he has any stories to tell us! he once flipped off a mig while inverted? THATS SO COOL') that they can become friends with and look out for too, and i KNOW he'll be looking out for them. if they need anything he's right there, because that is within his nature. but for the most part, they're all adults who have friendships, and not like. Extra Children. if you know what i mean. except for jake idk i think he needs a role model or something but i guess that makes mav a secret third thing to him idk

24. what other character from another fandom reminds you of them?

oof that is tough!! i think that on most levels, mav is very different from the characters in other fandoms that i have imprinted on the most, so i'm not going to be able to do a 1:1 comparison here. but believe it or not the very first character that came to mind for me is ezra standish from the magnificent seven tv series, and it's not an exact match but i'm just going to provide my presentation on the matter (i am specifically comparing tg86 mav with ezra bc i have no one to compare tgm mav with lol):

horrible quality images (yes i did make these gifs but theyre very old so lets not talk about it lol) bc this is an obscure 1990s b-budget tv show shot on vhs probably. but this guy right here is either the second or third youngest member of his found family group (the seven ~lawmen~ a local circuit judge hires to manage an old west territory because it's so dangerous the sheriff and deputy he'd previously appointed ran out on the job). he's very accomplished at what he does, for his age, and has had way too many shitty life experiences and is much too world-weary already. everyone who works with him comes into it with a preconceived notion of how he's going to be. and how could they not? it isn't that the other six guys are short-sighted in assuming, exactly. ezra is direct about who he is and what he stands for, downright in your face about it, actually. you expect him to be kind of an arrogant asshole, and he tells you he's gonna be one. and then, for a while anyway, he kind of is.

loner type, doesn't need anyone, he's going to do everything his way because he knows best, needlessly theatrical about it in the process. they expect him to run out on them during their battle, and he does.... kind of. but he also comes through for them in a critical moment when he's needed most and they least expect him to do it, single-handedly taking out multiple enemies to save their lives. immediately, he adopted into the group, essentially, but ezra doesn't know enough about really having friends to recognize that it's happening until much later. additionally, his entire life and livelihood is overshadowed by his mother (who can be seen sitting in the bg of the larger gif), who is still very much alive, in his case, but whose actions and words define him, whether he wants them to or not. he had a shitty childhood bouncing between a hundred strangers' and distant family members' homes alike and is just overflowing with abandonment issues, and he expects the other six to give up on him at the drop of a hat, but they never do.

25. what was your first impression of this character? how about now?

the very first time i ever saw top gun was before tgm was ever a thing. i remember my favorite character being goose (isnt he always tho <3) and thinking mav was kind of a bland action hero guy with a story arc i did not understand at all or care about. i was like fifteen, tho, and hadn't seen hardly any movies or tv shows at the time because i had a kind of weird sheltered from media sort of childhood, so i don't think i had rly learned HOW to watch and interpret media and characters yet, tbh. when the sequel was coming out i rewatched top gun with my partner in preparation bc my parents were making me watch the new one, and they had never seen it. i was like oh !!! he's smol and traumatized. i bet there's fic about him and that blonde guy. i should look that up later. and then we watched tgm and that was it for me. i was like never mind him and that blonde guy i need to know if hIS RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS SON TURNS OUT OK......MY HEART..... and that was that lol. my dna has not been the same since <3

[abirddogmoment]

I'm so, so deeply sorry. Thank you for sharing Mav with us, he was a streak of bright light across the stars. I hope he and Layla somehow recognize each other and sniff the grass together with joy.

What was Maverick's favorite way to be petted and/or cuddle? Did he "talk" or bark to communicate with you? What was your dinner time routine? What was your bedtime routine?

Thank you, I'm so sorry about Layla as well ❤

Mav liked to have his face held, he liked to chin rest and would lie around with his face on me. It was extremely cute.

When he was ready to wake up and I was still asleep, he would curl up as my little spoon and slowly stretch out more and more until I woke up.

Mav would grumble out the window at cats or rabbits (and I would usually go look and agree with him). He would sometimes groan or make throat noises at me if there was something he really wanted (like during the time changes when dinner is an hour late), and he would bark in his sleep a lot. But he was otherwise a pretty quiet dog, he mostly just stared and sighed or stared and pointedly nose poked me.

Dinner routine: I'd get home from work 4:30-5pm and walk him. We'd do some training (usually obedience or nosework) for about 10 mins, and then he'd get his kibble in a ball or snuffle mat. He would also get some wet slop after his kibble to give him his painkillers and he really loved that.

Bedtime routine: I'd walk him around the block, then he would go into the living room to find his stuffy. I would brush my teeth etc and go find him in the living room and pretend to steal his stuffy. He would play-guard it, I would "give up", and he would trot a victory trot into bed. He'd been sleeping on the floor until it cools down but moved onto the bed in the middle of the night.

[chradi]

*Tears down door* I GOT TO PLAY A DISGUSTING FLESH EATER FOR A ONE-SHOT

[oh-great-authoress]

Okay, summary of the blog. *cracks knuckles* Let's see here...

Top Gun

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell

Star Wars!!! (Huzzah Ben Solo!)

Amazing fics! (I need moooorrrreeeee!)

LOTR and more Top Gun?

Where even is the lie?

This is completely accurate.

Also, the fact that my fics made the summary—I am screaming

[callsign-bobsgirl]

Baby On Board

Pairing: Bob Floyd x f!Reader Summary: There seems to be a misunderstanding between you and the Dagger Squad about your husband's callsign. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Unbeta-ed, rusty writing and one clumsy allusion to smut. Otherwise none.

When the gang found out that Bob could actually talk to women, they were shocked.

When the gang found out that Bob had been talking to, coming home to, and loving on the same woman for the past ten years, they were somehow less shocked.

What shocked Bob — although in retrospect it probably shouldn’t have — is just how adamantly everyone insisted on getting to meet the Mrs. Bob Floyd. The mystery that the quiet WSO kept under wraps. This Friday at the Hard Deck, seven o’clock.

Which is what he groaned into your neck early that afternoon after Mav had sent everyone home early as a reward. The two of you lazed about on top of the covers, the box of clothes half unpacked and forgotten at the foot of the bed the minute Bob walked through the bedroom door.

“I was hoping to keep you to myself for just a little longer,” your husband whined; turned humming as you ran your hand through his hair.

“I’m more hurt you didn’t immediately tell them about your hot wife in Lemoore,” you muse, “I mean what if I came down to surprise you, hmm? What if I popped down to the Top Deck before we permanently moved down huh? And that … Flameman or whatever tried to hit on me because he didn’t have it burned into his skull that I’m the lovely Mrs. Floyd hmm? What then?”

Groaning, Bob lifted himself to his elbows, pressing kisses to your jaw, “When we meet Hangman at the Hard Deck, he’s probably gonna hit on you anyways, if nothing else than to try and get a rise out of me.”

“Ah yes, you and your famous impulsive temper,” you tease.

Sliding a hand from Bob’s torso up to his shoulder, you quickly flip him over so you’re on top. Grinning cheekily you lean back on your haunches, getting to work on Bob’s belt while he fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for his turn to strip you of the offending cloth.

“I’ll talk to my sister, see if she can’t reschedule some stuff for Friday,” you say, reaching your hand down your husband's briefs and getting a pleased hum in response.

—

When the two of you walked into the Hard Deck, you for the first time, you let Bob lead you through the crowds of people and he pointed out the different ranks of aviators, the obvious gaggles of tag chasers, and the old-timers who were loyal to the bar. You did your best to listen but you were busy smoothing down the sundress Bob loved so much and it was really loud in here.

“Stop worrying,” Bob leaned down to say in your ear, “You can run miles around these guys.” The WSO paused for a second, “Maybe not … physically, but in every other way.”

You laugh as you slap the back of your hand against his chest, “will Phoenix be here at least?”

“You see the guy in the Hawaii print?”

“Uh-huh”

“See the woman who just jabbed him with the pool stick?”

“Yeah?”

“Phoenix.”

The two of you approach the pool table everyone is crowded around but before you can announce yourself, a boyish-looking man with amber skin whistles and waves across the pool table, bringing everyone’s attention with him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bob!”

Everyone clamoured to meet the new arrivals, but you didn’t miss how one of them — a blond, cocky-looking son of a bitch with a toothpick dangling from his lip — held back, only to eventually push his way past an ‘LT. Fitch’. 

“Well Darlin’, it sure is nice to finally meet you,” his grin sure does take over his face, huh, “callsign Hangman, but you can call me Jake,” he says with a wink.

You share a look with Bob — who had just returned from the bar with your cocktail and his peanuts — and yeah, Hangman was exactly as you imagined him.

Saying a quick thanks to your husband and making sure to drag your fingers across Bob’s as you take the glass from him, you turn back to the other blond who won’t stop with the cocksure smirk. If Bob hadn’t warned you that Jake, for all that he was like … well this, was harmless and wouldn’t actually try anything; you’d be throwing the drink in his face.

But you also figured the alcohol would do better in you than on him.

Later in the evening, after everyone had had a few drinks and you’d loosened up, Topman sauntered back over to your stool where you were admiring your husband bent over the pool table.

“I gotta admit, I am mystified at how our Baby on Board managed to snag you,” the pilot kept going, finally getting a chuckle out of you.

‘Cause yeah, ‘Baby On Board’, that was funny you’d give Bagman that one. You didn’t get why it made the rest of the squadron look at you weird though.

“What?” you ask. 

You also couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling when Rooster swatted the back of Hangman’s head, but Phoenix is the one who elbows herself up to Hangman, going between glaring at him and raising her eyebrow at you.

“You … you do get what Bagman’s saying about Bob here, right?”

You nod, still not getting where the miscommunication lies.

“That Bob is … you know, a baby?” she explains.

Right as you emphatically exclaim, “fucks!”

And boy if that didn’t get the guys hooting and hollering, as your husband’s face turns bright pink.

Did these guys not get it? There’s a reason your Robby was one of the only two squadron members who’d even made it down the aisle. The way his hair was never out of place in uniform, how it bounced when he was out of it, and how soft it felt between your fingers. Those blue eyes that demanded your attention and turned you into a puddle when they darkened. Did his squad think you could let him do more than an hour of yard work in the summer, chest all sweaty and glistening before you beckoned him back into the privacy of the house? Or even worse, when he danced from the kitchen to the living room, carrying mugs of hot chocolate, on Christmas in those ‘family matching’ pyjamas.

‘Bob is a baby’ for the best of the best in the navy, these people were fools.

“I don’t get what the big fuss is,” you tell the aviators, “honestly, with every year that passes I half expect a kid to reach out from wherever he’s been deployed over the years.” Which gets another round of laughter out of your husband’s colleagues.

Robby knew you knew how insanely in love with him you were and how much you trusted him, and you knew how deep his devotion to you was — which is why instead of defending himself he just hid his red face in your hair. Already hearing the jokes he’ll face on base next month. You bringing a hand up to clumsily yet comfortingly cup his jaw helped though.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Payback says sincerely, “it's just that the Bob we know, the Bob we work with … it's kinda hard to see the Bob you know in him.”

And that’s when you realize. If Robby hadn’t told his squadron anything about you, then he definitely hasn’t said anything about …

“No I get it, my Robby can be on the quieter side, and probably downplays his moves at work” You hear Robby groan in your ear, knowing exactly what you’re about to reveal; and you gear yourself to revel in the shock you’re about to create. 

“But he did get three kids out of me.”  

The yelps of surprise and demands of proof had everyone in the bar glancing over at the pool table, but you and Bob just laughed at them as he handed over his wallet: showing off the five of you in the small ID window.

_____________________________________________

A/N: this is 100% from my own misunderstanding of Hangman's joke the first few times I watched the TGM, I truly thought he was implying Bob must always have a baby on the way because look at him??? Anyways, first time posting in the fandom. Come on over and say hi! And ... idk, live laugh love long and prosper.

also s/o to @sailor-aviator for helping my brain when it wasn't braining ♡

[writing-until-i-drop]

First Time | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader | wc: 2,226

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! Oral (fem receiving), unprotect p in v (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, mentions of rough oral (male receiving), lmk if I missed anything

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

You picked at your nail beds, anxiously waiting for the familiar blue Bronco to pull into the parking lot. You had been on a blind date from hell, arranged by one of your well-meaning co-workers. The guy had been late, flirted with the waitress, had ordered for you, and worst of all, had gotten your name wrong twice. Well, maybe that wasn’t the worst part but after the rest of the night, it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

You had excused yourself to the bathroom once the bill came out and called Bradley, begging him to come get you. Now, you were behind the restaurant, hoping your date didn’t come looking for you. 

“Thank God,” You sighed, rushing to the Bronco. Bradley scolded you for not waiting until he was in park but his whining stopped when you launched yourself across the bench seat at him. He gathered you in his arms without hesitation. 

“I've got you, honey,” Bradley whispered into your hair. You thought you felt him press a kiss to your temple but the feeling was so fleeting you couldn't be sure.

“I'm never going on a blind date ever again,” You whined. Bradley chuckled, rubbing your back. He hadn't been too keen on you going out with a stranger in the first place, making his displeasure known but also acknowledging that you were a grown woman who could do as you pleased. It annoyed a part of you that he didn't try harder to stop you. 

“You know I hate to see you sad, honey. What can I do to make tonight better?” Fuck me? Your first thought was not a viable response and you knew it. You and Bradley were destined to be really good friends, the type of friends others looked at and assumed there was something more. You would and had denied it in the past but secretly…secretly you were in love with your best friend. 

How could you not be? He was handsome, kind, attentive, and his mustache? You had cried the time Jake and Javy had convinced him to shave it and were inconsolable until it grew back a few months later. 

“Can we have a movie night at your place? And get pizza?” 

“Food wasn't good?” Bradley reached around you, buckling the middle seat belt over your lap. He normally insisted that you sit in the passenger seat, since it had the cross-body seat belt, going on and on about your safety.

But tonight, he didn't mention it, he also didn't mention what he was thinking when he draped his arm over your shoulders after switching into gear. Not willing to look a gifted horse in the mouth, you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“He ordered for me without even asking and it was awful, Lee.” His fingers, which had been tracing patterns on the exposed skin of your arm, froze when you used the nickname.

Normally you just called him by his first name and occasionally his callsign. The one time you had addressed him by rank and he fell down Mav’s front porch steps, which had given you enough reason to never do that again. Even if Bradley had promised that the two incidents were unrelated. 

“I'm sorry, honey.” 

“No you're not,” You rolled your eyes. “You didn't even want me to go on this date in the first place.” Bradley sighed. 

“Was I happy that you were meeting a strange man? No. But I also would never wish for you to have a bad night, so, yes, honey. I'm sorry.”

“God, I wish I could clone you,” You mumbled softly. 

“What was that, honey?” 

“Nothing.” 

When you got back to Bradley’s place the first order of business was getting out of your dress and heels. 

“I’ll order the pizza,” Bradley said, offering you a pair of sweats and one of his tee shirts.

“I thought we went over how ordering for a woman is a bad thing,” You teased and Bradley rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well unlike that douchebag, I know exactly what you like.” This time, it was impossible to miss the kiss on the temple that turned your cheeks pink. “There’s makeup remover in the bathroom.” 

“Pick a movie, I’ll be down in a minute,” You squeezed his forearm, moving past him into the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet was your brand of makeup remover and it made your stomach twist with butterflies, of course Bradley had your brand, he must have seen it when he visited your apartment. But why was it in his medicine cabinet and not stored away? It was like he was expecting you to be there, looking through his cabinets for it.

Once changed, you went downstairs. Bradley was sprawled out on his sofa, sipping on a beer, your favorite drink was waiting for you on the coffee table. You paused at the base of the stairs, taking in the sight before you. It was everything you wanted but didn’t think you could have. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, honey?” Bradley held out a hand, beckoning your forwards. You moved without thinking, letting him pull you on the couch beside him.

“Just thinking,” You answered noncommittally. Rooster chuckled, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“What are you thinking?”  Did you take a chance? Did you run this risk of ruining the relationship that meant the most to you?

“Nothing,” You muttered, moving out from his immediate grasp. Bradley didn’t let you get far though, pulling you back to his side. “Bradley.” 

“Does this have something to do with you wanting to clone me?” So he had heard that, you groaned, which was answer enough for him. “What about me isn’t enough that you want two of me?” 

“That you don’t want to sleep with me,” The answer tumbled out before you could stop it. You went to pull away again but Bradley stopped you, moving you onto his lap, reminding you just how strong he was. “Lee, I-” 

“You don’t need a clone to have that,” Bradley’s eyes were molten, staring into yours with an intensity that you had never experienced before. His grip on your hips tightened when you didn’t say anything, “I’ve been crazy about you for a long time. I just didn’t think you felt the same.”

You closed the gap, pressing your lips against his in a soft kiss. Bradley didn’t waste time, kissing you back with a desperate need, one hand slipping beneath your shirt, pressing against your back gently.

You arched into him, letting him deepen the kiss. Kissing Bradley was like having a roman candle explode inside your chest. Explosions and excitement shooting through you as he buried his other hand in your hair.

You tugged at his hair, relishing the loud moan he gave. Your hips ground down, feeling exactly why they called him Rooster. Bradley pulled back, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pulling moans and whines from you.

“Still think you need a clone to get the job done?” He nipped at your pulse, “All you have to do is ask, I’ll give you anything you want.” You tugged at his shirt, Bradley chuckled. “Talk to me, honey.” 

“I want you to fuck me, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” You saw the moment when Bradley’s brain stopped working. He blinked a few times, swollen lips parting in surprise. “Then I want you to tell me how you know what makeup remover I use.”  

“Can you say that again for me, baby?” You giggled, pulling off your shirt.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, I want you to fuck me.” Bradley groaned, pulling you in for another kiss. This time it was harsh, all teeth and tongues, noses knocking against each other. He shifted you onto your back, settling between your legs. “Lee,” You moaned as he palmed your breasts roughly.

“Love it when you call me that,” Bradley pulled at your sweats and you lifted your hips to help. You giggled as they went flying across the room, “No one else calls me that.” 

“Good,” You moaned, hands threading into his hair as he kissed down your chest.

“How attached are you to your bra?” He asked, tugging at the flimsy straps.

“The bra’s expensive,” You undid the clasp yourself, tossing it towards your sweats. “Panties aren’t.” The sound of ripping fabric filled the room but your protests were non-existent as he began lavishing your breasts with attention, licking, sucking, and biting both of them until you were a squirming mess.

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” He kissed his way down your stomach. “And all mine. All fucking mine.”

“Lee,” You cried out when he licked you without hesitation. Bradley ate your pussy like a dying man, his mustache brushing against your sensitive clit. “If you ever,” You grunted as he slid a thick finger into you. “Shave your mustache again, I’ll key your Bronco.”

Bradley’s response was to double his efforts, adding a second finger, scissoring them to open you up for him. You felt your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach tightening painfully so.

“Come for me, baby.” He sucked your clit hard, the coil snapping as the orgasm washed over you. 

“Lee,” You moaned, vision going fuzzy. Your legs tightened around his head but Bradley didn’t slow down, elongating your orgasm until another one caught you off guard. 

“All fucking mine, baby.” Bradley gave you one last lick then kissed you, giving you a taste for yourself that had you moaning into his mouth. You barely heard the loud knock at the door, Bradley grabbed a blanket and covered you. “Stay covered, I don’t share.” 

“Noted,” You sighed, exhausted from two back-to-back orgasms.

Bradley quickly paid the man and abandoned the pizza in the kitchen, he scooped you into his arms. “What are you doing?” 

“Following orders,” Bradley grunted, squeezing your ass. He kicked his bedroom door shut behind you, placing you on the bed. “You think you’re ready for me, baby?” 

“If you don’t fuck me, Lee, I’m calling Hangman.” Bradley growled, pulling off his sweats and boxers in one go. You gulped, he was huge. 

“What did I just say about sharing?” 

“You might have to remind me,” Bradley was on you in an instant, kissing you hard until you were dying for air. “Bradley,” You scratched his back.

“What don’t I do, baby?” 

“Fuck me, apparently,” He bit down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pulling a load moan from you.

“Keep it up with, baby, one of these days I’ll fuck your mouth until you pass out.” Your pussy clenched around nothing at the thought of it, “Now, who’s the only one who gets to touch you like this.” 

“You,” You pulled him in for a kiss. “Now, please, please, please, fuck me, Lee.” 

“Condom?” You shook your head,

“Clean and on birth control. You?” 

“I’m clean,” You felt him notch himself at your entrance. “Ready?” You shifted your hips upwards, urging him to hurry up. “Words, baby.”

“‘Ready.” He pushed forward, his thick cock stretching you out until you were gasping and whining his name with every inch he gave you.

“Halfway there, baby.” Halfway? You groaned, digging your fingers into the sheets.

“Fuck, Lee, you’re huge,” Bradley chuckled, distracting you from the pain by playing with your nipples. He stilled when he bottomed out, giving you time to adjust. You felt so full of him and of pleasure, you knew it would only get better once he started to move.

“How do you want this to go, honey? You’re in control here,” You settled your hands on his broad shoulders, squeezing his strong muscles.

“Ruin me, Lee. We can do it slow and sweet after dinner,” He gave you a peck on the lips.

“Whatever you want.” He pulled back then snapped his hips forward, hitting a spot that had you crying out. He pace was relentless and exactly what you wanted, Bradley fucked you into the bed like a man possessed. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Squeezing my cock like a good girl,” You squeezed around him. “You like that, huh? You like being my good girl? Words, baby.”

“Yes, shit,” You scratched your nails down his back. “I’m your good girl, just don’t stop.” 

“Give me one more, baby,” His calloused fingers set a quick pace, rubbing your abused clit until you were screaming. “That’s it, come for me.” Your third orgasm hit you harder than the two before it, incoherent babbles spilling from your lips. “Think you can give me another?”

“No, no, no,” You whined but when he pulled his hand back you forced it back down. Bradley chuckled, happily working you up again.

“We’re going to have to work on your communication skills, baby,” You kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip. Bradley’s thrusts became erratic, he was close. “Come on my cock while I fill you up, baby.” That was all it took, you came and Bradley followed right behind you, spilling inside of you. 

“I think,” You panted as Bradley all but collapsed on top of you, “I think you broke me.” He chuckled, kissing your face all over as he shifted off of you, pulling you both onto your sides.

“How does a bath sound?” 

“Pizza first.” His stomach rumbled in agreement,

“Whatever you want, baby.”

a/n: this fic got away with me, it was supposed to stop when the pizza got there

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Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @shanimallina87

[captainsophiestark]

A Very Dagger Christmas

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Jake's down bad for his SO in a way his friends have never seen before, and they want to make sure his SO knows it.

Word Count: 2,015

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You cheated! I saw you bump the ball, don't try to deny it!"

"I did not cheat! You just suck at pool!"

"Pilots! I will ban pool for the rest of the night if I have to. Don't test me."

"Sorry, Penny..."

I watched the unfolding drama around the pool table of the Hard Deck with a smile as I sipped the last of my hot chocolate. Penny had closed the whole place for a little early Christmas celebration between her, Amelia, Mav, and the Daggers, and as the partner of Jake Seresin, I'd been invited along this year. The atmosphere, food and drink, and free entertainment all combined to make this my favorite Christmas party attended so far.

"Hey."

I looked up to see my boyfriend, Jake, crossing the room towards me with a big smile and two mugs in his hands. I shifted over a little on the cushy loveseat Penny had moved in for the evening's party, giving Jake room to settle in next to me.

"I brought you another cup of hot chocolate," he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead as I took the mug from him. "Not spiked, although I still don't know how you're putting up with all these idiots sober."

I laughed. "I love your friends, Jake. And I want to remember all the embarassing shit they pull clear as day, so I can use it against them later."

"And that's why you're the best. Amazing." Jake leaned in to punctuate his statement with a kiss, this time on the lips. I smiled into the kiss, then snuggled into Jake's chest once we broke apart. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me closely, and the moment was one of absolutely perfect peace and comfort despite the chaos continuing around us.

"Thanks for inviting me along to this, by the way," I said, my voice low as I curled into Jake, more relaxed than I'd been all week in the leadup to this party. Jake hummed, and I could feel the vibrations all through his chest.

"Thanks for agreeing to come. I've been to a few of these now, and this one's already a lot better with you here. A lot." I leaned even further into Jake, squeezing his thigh gently with my free hand. After a moment, Jake continued. "Although, honestly, you might want to wait to thank me until after we play Dirty Santa."

I let out a long, heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Babe. I hate it when you call it that. You live in California now, it's White Elephant! Dirty Santa sounds like something much different and much worse than a fun gift exchange."

"Worse?" asked Jake, a familiar grin and note of mischief in his tone as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his arm wandering from my shoulders to my waist. When he spoke again, it was nothing more than a low growl in my ear. "Or better?"

I considered for a moment, then shook my head and leaned back as much as I could in the small loveseat.

"No. The delivery and everything normally would've worked, but not for the phrase 'Dirty Santa', and not at the non-blood-relative family Christmas party. Nice try, through."

Jake just smiled and shook his head. He leaned in again, pulling me towards him like he was about to double down, but before he got the chance, we were interrupted by a few of his friends shouting from the pool table.

"Hangman! Get over here, we need some fresh blood at this pool table!"

Jake just rolled his eyes and waved the guys off, but they refused to take no for an answer. After a moment, I leaned up and kissed Jake on the cheek and gave him a little smile, then moved his arm from around my shoulders myself.

"Go," I said. "You've got honor to defend in pool, and you should probably get a game or two in now before Penny inevitably has to ban it."

Jake grinned, but he didn't move from the seat next to me.

"...Are you sure? I don't want to abandon you."

I just waved him off. "I'm fine, I like all your friends, and I already know most of them pretty well. No risk of abandonment here, I promise."

"Great." Jake leaned in to give me a quick kiss, then pulled back with a grin that spelled trouble. "Then I have some people who need to get their asses kicked in pool."

With that, he hopped up and took off to join the group at the pool table. I watched him with a fond smile, a warm glow sitting in my chest. He was absolutley ridiculous, but he was also absolutely wonderful.

While I was busy watching Jake, Natasha wandered over and took a seat in the chair next to me. I gave her a little smile, then turned back to watching Jake. After a moment, I heard her huff a little laugh, and I turned my attention back to her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... I've never seen him like this."

I frowned, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

"Nat-?"

"Hangman. It's been... nice, but really weird to see him like this."

"Nat, like what?"

She shook her head, her attention drifting to where my boyfriend was in the middle of trash talking at the pool table. She huffed another laugh, then turned back to me.

"He's wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. That matches with yours. Do you know what happened the last time someone tried to get Hangman to do that?"

"...No..."

"He dumped the one Coyote tried to force him into in a pool of oil from the planes."

I snorted, my hand flying to my mouth to cover a disbelieving laugh. I kept waiting for Natasha to smile or something to let me know she was joking, but her expression stayed dead serious.

"...Really?"

"Yes, really! And you're the first partner he's ever brought to more than one of our events, the first one he hasn't given a bunch of shit to for not drinking with him, the first one in years any of us have bothered to learn the name of. He's in a good mood, he's clearly just as happy to sit with you over here as he is to be in the middle of the pool game over there. Even right after he and Rooster get into it, he smiles at you two seconds later and it's like nothing even happened. Do you know how long those stupid moods of his usually last?"

I huffed a laugh and shook my head. Everything Natasha was saying had my heart racing, but I didn't want to let my imagination run away from me. Surely I didn't have that big of an impact on Jake, no matter what Natasha seemed to think.

"Hey guys," said Mickey, coming over to join the two of us with a smile. "I needed to get the hell out of that pool game while I still could. It's about to be a knock down dragout between Mav, Rooster, and Hangman. We're taking bets on how long it'll be before Penny bans pool and who's going to be the final straw to cause it if you guys want in."

"...What are the current odds?" asked Natasha, leaning forward. Mickey quickly walked her through the bet layout as it stood, then continued with a grin before she could stake anything.

"There's one other rule you should be aware of: no one's allowed to send our newest extended family member into the fray to influence the odds."

He nodded towards me when he said it, and I raised an eyebrow, but Nat almost shot out of her chair in indignation.

"What? Come on, where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is that we can actually take bets without a win card in everybody's pocket that can keep the game going all night."

Nat threw her hands up and flopped back in her chair, which was my cue to lean forward.

"Mickey... what are you talking about?"

"Hangman's one of the three live wires over there that's going to get way too competitive and ruin the game. If you go over there, you're gonna calm him down and totally ruin the fairness of our bet."

I laughed and shook my head, copying Nat and flopping back in my chair.

"I think you guys are seriously overestimating my influence on Jake's fundamental personality. We've been together long enough now that I think I would've noticed if he was a completely different person around me."

"Okay, first of all, no you wouldn't have," started Mickey. "If he were a different person around you, you'd only ever see the person he is around you, because you're necessarily around him when you're seeing him. And second, we're not saying he's a totally different person."

Nat hummed like she might disagree, and Mickey gave her a little nod.

"Okay, at least I'm not. What we're really trying to say is... he's obviously pretty committed, and very happily tied down. It's made him more grounded in a way that I honestly never thought I'd see. But it's nice, and it's definitely because of you."

I just hummed, processing Mickey's words. Jake and I had been dating for a few months, and although we hadn't really sat down to talk about it, we were clearly getting pretty serious. At least, I was. And it was nice to know that Jake's friends seemed to notice the same thing coming from Jake.

I stayed in my seat chatting with Natasha and Mickey for a while longer, until pool was eventually called off with Amelia having won the bet, to no one's surprise. Everyone wandered over to join Nat, Mickey, and I to begin White Elephant, and Jake settled into the loveseat next to me again.

"How was pool?" I asked as he handed me another mug of hot chocolate, further defending his position as my dream man.

"Fine, until Rooster started cheating. And then he has the nerve to call me on it when I started doing it to, to level the playing field!"

I just laughed and curled further into Jake's chest as he shot Rooster an aggressive stink eye. Luckily for all of us, Rooster didn't catch it.

The rest of the night passed much more peacefully sans pool table, even though White Elephant was as explosive as Jake had been expecting. Still, once it was over and we'd all settled in to relax together by the fire, any of the negatively chaotic moments of the night were long forgotten.

I laid my head on Jake's chest, listening to the soothing rythm of his heartbeat as Jake ran his hand gently up and down my arm. I was honestly on the edge of drifting off to sleep when Jake's voice drew me back. He was speaking quietly, right next to my ear, so softly that I wasn't sure he even meant for me to hear him.

"I love you. So fucking much."

I shifted just enough to meet Jake's eyes. He seemed surprised to find me awake, but a determination I usually only saw when I got to visit him on base was shining in his eyes.

"I love you," he repeated, louder this time. "And it's okay if you aren't ready to say it back or don't want to or whatever. But... I need you to know. I love you more than I've ever loved somebody before."

I smiled, my heart melting as I leaned up to kiss Jake. I ran my hands through the hair on the back of his neck, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again and whispered against his lips.

"I love you too, Jake. More than anyone or anything. So, so much."

His face lit up like the sun. His arm wrapped tight around my waist, and he pulled me closer to him than was probably appropriate for our current setting. He kissed me, hard, and I kissed him right back. I'd been in love with Jake Seresin for a while now, but it was nice to finally say it out loud. And even nicer to hear it back.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[compacflt]

I just wanted to say as someone who has stumbled across your blog and has read your Wednesday wips and posts about anything topgun related that your thought process and consideration of mav and ice, specifically their political beliefs and relationships with their own identities, is honestly so impressive and cool. You have brought such realism and life to these characters which is just so refreshing to see. idk i just wanted to express how cool and awesome i think that is

Because of the thought into these characters does it make it difficult to like them or understand them if you have differing opinions from them? for me personally i feel like if i were to ever actually have a convo with ice or mav regarding identity politics i would actually start to lose my mind (like how one feels when your dad or fun uncle talks for too long at thanksgiving dinner). If it does make them difficult to like, does that make it difficult for you to write them sometimes?

oh yeah! i think, my ice i really empathize with & really love & really could get along with, once he grows out of the sexism of his teens & twenties, but my maverick drives me crazy. someone sent in an ask a while ago that was like “WHY is cyclone simpson your one true love??” And it’s because i too would absolutely hate maverick & hate working with him lol. people who are overly cocky & un-self-aware & a bit self-centered make me CRAZY. (narrator voice: compacflt is a hypocrite as all these things also apply to compacflt.)

Politically… It’s difficult to say. no one really wants to hear the intricacies of one person’s political journey, which is why i won’t give you mine, but suffice to say—since the start of the russian invasion of Ukraine, and my semi-concerted effort to learn more about the political landscape of modern warfare, my own personal beliefs have shifted a whole bunch. definitely aided in that shift by my top gun fic project that specifically aims to understand the conservative straight-passing male mindset as it relates to military matters… there are many end goals to a project like mine, but one end product is a filter you can take away and hold up in front of your eyes and see the world through it. When writing from the eyes of a conservative straight (passing) white man, your priorities totally shift. I had to write from the perspective of someone who doesn’t care about identity politics. Because they don’t! A core tenet of conservatism is very proudly not caring about that stuff, and being very annoyed when people (usually left-of-centers) make that stuff very visible and want you to care about it! “Don’t shove it in my face,” etc., etc. Don’t force me to care about this taboo, private thing I really don’t care about. It violates my freedoms, or whatever, to be forced to care—or even bear witness to—stuff that i don’t care about. Etc. And then, to be nominally a part of that community that you really, really don’t care about, and then to be told that you have to care about it because of your publicity… people asking you to be proud of something that has had a negative connotation for much of your entire life… that’s not a transformation that happens easily.

Jesus, I could write an essay about this. I have, several times by now in responses to asks over my blog. But there is so much that I could talk about. I think… I really worry that some of my writing falls into the first of the below categories:

I really try not to romanticize conservatism in my writing—I tried to show that ice and mav’s happiness is the price they pay for their conservatism. They’re actively choosing to be unhappy—but because they prioritize their honor over everything, due to EXTERNAL PRESSURES they cannot control, and which I think are often ignored in the fandom space for one reason or another. The fact of the matter is, in 99% of IPs, characters prioritize something other than their sexualities. It’s never Maverick’s personal identity that is at stake in either Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick, because he has built himself so impermeably masculine that there are no grounds upon which to question his personal identity. He just isn’t thinking about it. He’s thinking about how to get into Charlie’s pants, how to win the Top Gun trophy, how to uphold his promise to Goose, et cetera. If he’s fucking guys on the side, it’s because he wants to and because hes maverick and he does what he wants without thinking about it—that’s the whole point of his character, from a story-construction standpoint. That’s his archetype. He’s a renegade maverick superstar who is both thoughtlessly brilliant and thoughtlessly dangerous. He’s thoughtless. His priorities are to survive and to look cool doing it, and that’s it. He is a savant in the Naval Air Force, where honor is your lifeblood, who feels he has been dishonored by his own family name, and who willingly joined the conservative post-Vietnam Navy right when/after Ronald Reagan was elected President, and who wears cowboy boots and who disrespects women to their faces, and who is eager to get into altercations with Soviet-Chinese-DPRK-X-second-world-country-coded-but-EXPLICITLY-Soviet-manufactured-Mikoyan-Gurevich-MiG-28s(-F-5s-painted-black)… I’m sorry. In my opinion, the conservatism is baked into him as a character. I find it extremely difficult to separate him from his conservatism, because in some ways his patriotic conservatism is his raison d’etre. IMO if you take that away from him, he ceases to exist.

Same thing with Ice and his unwillingness to openly rebel or go against the grain. That is his whole reason to exist in the story at all. I know that I’m saying this in a fandom space where the whole point is to change characters & put them in different situations (fanfic) but… in kind of a perverse self aware way, as in I know I sound ridiculous and pretentious, i guess i don’t really understand an impulse to change the core tenets of a character irreparably in fanworks. We are shown that ice always goes by the books in TG. Then we are shown that he achieves the fruits of that labor (four stars) in TGM. So he is rewarded for never rebelling, whereas Maverick, who always rebels (but NEVER in a way that challenges his personal identity), has stagnated in the ranks at full-bird O-6. And that’s Ice’s character. That’s what he’s there for in the story—he’s a tool to show us the value system of rank and prestige you earn by following the rules of the Navy. Why take that away from him? That’s his priority! Canonically, that’s his priority and reason for existence! And historically the way to achieve that priority is through conservatism.

And you ask me if it’s hard to like my ice and mav. Yes, but that’s not my choice. The movie already did that for me. They are not, I’m sorry, likable people. I am not a straight white conservative male writing about straight white conservative men to validate my own beliefs—I’m a queer AFAB person of color writing about straight white conservative men because I want to understand the limits of their conservatism. What they do and do not care about, and what it takes to make them care. And from what we are shown in TG… ice and mav would not care about ME. At all. And they would not want to be forced to care about me. Ice’s casual careless dismissiveness… “the plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies’ room…” mav following Charlie into the bathroom… turning the key in the ignition and driving away while pretending not to hear her… “what?? i can’t hear you! 🙉” … they do not care. They have no desire to care.

Again. Maybe I subscribe to a very very old-school and labored and pretentious ideology when it comes to writing… I know a lot of people write just to have fun. I do not. I wish i could, but I don’t. And when you’re not writing to have fun, you don’t have to like the characters you’re writing about. They’re nothing more than tools at your disposal to get your point across more effectively. No, I don’t like them! Of course not! My ice is cruel and cowardly and careless and hypocritical and subservient and weak, and my mav is demanding and dangerous and dismissive and oblivious and so, so, so unbelievably bitter.

And that’s what my story needed, to get my point across. So, shrug. My point was my priority. I don’t care too much about the characters themselves.

Re: icemav & identity politics. Part of hopefully selling this story is the attempt at empathy for the conservative male, to bring this discussion back to the top. Why write fiction at all if you’re not going to write about people different from you, and why write about people different from you if you don’t want to understand them? So… part of trying to understand them was to understand and have empathy for this shift in priorities. Conservative guys do not want to care about labels, or sexual orientations, or, God forbid, discussion of their gender identities. I can kind of see Ice tolerating it by the end… but, there are limits. Again, it’s supposed to be private. I think he’d chafe against getting labeled gay—he wouldn’t want to be called the first gay compacflt, or SECNAV, etc. He can’t say, “i slept with like a hundred fifty women before I even MET the ONLY man ive ever slept with,” because that’s like intensely private personal information!! No one deserves that information, but people still want to call him gay, even though in his head he really is not!!!! Again—from the conservative perspective, it’s a public imposition of left-wing, overly sexualized, too-neat labels and politics onto an area of life that has typically been kept private and respectable—I don’t agree with the conservatism, but I can at least empathize with it. Pre-Maverick’s death (pre-coming to terms with it), it would’ve been shameful & embarrassing to him; but even after coming to terms with it, it’s still not something he “takes pride” in. I think he thinks of it like this—most people aren’t proud of being straight. Like, it’s weird if you are. Same thing with being proud of being white, etc. Why be excessively proud of things you have no control over? Why not take pride in your ACTIONS—for instance, his career that he has actively sacrificed so much of his pride for? I can really empathize with that thought. I don’t necessarily agree, but I get it, especially in his professional circumstances, where he has so much to be professionally proud of, and yet people keep wanting him to publicly care about this private part of him he has no control over and can’t change.

Maverick though. I think he’d be actively hostile about talking about it in public. He Does Not Care. he does not want to care. It’s all an insult. They call him the first openly gay Ace cause he’s married to another man— “okay, but, like, I’m not. Stop calling me that. Neither of us are. Oh my god we have slept with so many women. Stop calling us that.” Ok then what do you want us, the press corps, to call you? First openly bisexual Ace? “No that’s worse!! That’s a word some teenager made up and doesn’t mean anything!! I’m sixty years old stop asking me to talk about this stuff im too old.” What do you have to say to LGBT kids who want to go into the navy? “😎👍 there’s a place for you etc etc. Let’s go back to talking about all the planes I shot down.” Maverick does what he wants without thinking about it. That’s the core tenet of his character. Very conservative. Don’t ask him to care too much.

Idk. No I don’t like them. But I understand them, if that makes sense. Like their conservative anti-label logic does make emotional sense to me. So that’s part of what I took away from this project, for better or worse… probably worse: I understand why conservatives don’t like the modern over-publicity of sexuality. They don’t care and they don’t want to care. And because they are small-C conservative, my ice and mav still don’t care lol. So, yeah. It doesn’t make them hard to write, because thats why I wanted to write them in the first place.

[redfurrycat]

My GOD Red, you are like a top-tier Museum Curator of Fanfiction <3<3<3 Those fic rec lists you make are the greatest things ever :):):):) (I just bookmarked a whole bunch of Cowboy!Jake ones from the list you made :) - I Bookmark instead of 'Marking for Later' because if I mark them for later I will, ironically, forget about them :P whereas the Bookmarks are right there on the dashboard on your profile)

anyway, YOU ARE AMAZING I LOVE YOU HOW DO YOU HAVE THE TIME TO FIND/READ ALL THESE???

HEY!!! 🤗

"Top-Tier Museum Curator of Fanfiction"

OMG. Do you think I can write that down on my CV?! This is the best achievement ever. Who cares about diplomas and previous work experiences?

THIS. This is the best thing EVER!!! =D

Thank you for telling me this. <3

I'm glad you find them useful, and more importantly, that you find fics to add to your reading list. There are SO many wonderful content out there. I'm humbly trying to offer another way of finding and consuming the goodies. I've used so many recs lists for previous fandoms... So I'm more than happy to do it for the TG/M fandom (or like for the Hangster ship in particular...although I have plans to extend my work to several other ships as well).

Whatever works for you!! As long as you can find the stories easily, it's not important how you organise your library! :D (I'm going all in: open tabs, marked for later, word document, bookmarks, phone notes.... xD)

GOOD JESUS. No way. I don't have time to read all the recs before actually reccing them. No way, nope.... You know I still have some marked for later fics that were published at the very beginning of the Hangster fandom? And people keep creating content, so it's hard to keep track of my to-read sometimes.... (By that I mean, keep writing wonderful writers, KEEP WRITING! <3)

Now, I DO spend a lot of time finding and organising fics. Like A LOT of time...👀 I rarely read the fics for pleasure when I'm in 'reccing' mode. Instead, I'm using my super awesome research tricks in order to create a helpful (at least, I hope it is) repository of TG stories. (It's often way too elaborate the way I do it, but whatever, I have no chills whatsoever.)

You're a sweetheart for sending me this ask, I appreciate. <3

Love you too & enjoooooy the goodies! :D

🐈💕

*

You can find the Masterrecslist HERE.

(I'm also in the process of reorganising the post for better navigation, so expect a big update at some point in the future.)

[actuallyitsstar]

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw + 5, 12, and 24? (Ok, that's all😆)

✨ send me a number and a character! ✨

5. what's the first song that comes to mind when you think of them?

when i first started writing time takes no prisoners i had like, VERY RECENTLY seen tgm for the first time and i didn't rly have much of a playlist to write to. it was kind of like 4 songs on loop lol. i've already talked to you about this song but by sheer force of pavlovian conditioning, it's got to be kids by the midnight. however, since that's not new information, i'll share a runner up instead that was also on that playlist of like four songs when i first started writing ttnp: everything i own by bread. the one big thing mav and bradley have in common with each other is their grief, and originally i added this song to the playlist with mav in mind, but after hearing it all the way through again i decided this was very bradley coded.

it does really make me think of bradley about mav during the fight, like, a lot (nobody else could ever know / the part of me that can't let go. and also is there someone you know you're loving them so / but taking them all for granted? you may lose them one day / something takes them away / and they don't hear the words you long to say).

there's also something to be said about goose and the inescapable trauma of having a dead father that everyone else seemed to have a bigger piece of than you, and the way goose's memory was taught to bradley through the people he still had (mom, mav, the flyboys) and their memory of goose's love for them. in a way, it means goose really did teach bradley to go all in on the ones he loves, doesn't it? he got that bradshaw over-protectiveness from his mom, and from goose, too, even if he learned it second hand. (you taught me how to love / what it's of / you never said too much / but still you showed the way / and i knew from watching you) but it also reminds me a lot of his grief over losing his mother (you sheltered me from harm / kept me warm / you gave my life to me / set me free).

and i think these (losing goose, losing carole, then losing mav) really are the three most defining events in bradley's life, and that bradley is a very all-or-nothing sort of person. if he's in your corner, he's in your corner (phoenix for example, mav later) and if he's not, you're enemies. (hangman. mav during the fight). so, i think the concept of giving everything you own for someone is very him <3 and he's been burdened with so much loss. i think he is that desperate and that lonely. he did kind of try to give everything for mav, didn't he? he was willing to die for him. he was in mav's corner all along <3

12. what's a headcanon you have for this character?

idk if this is a hot take but bradley is like...... just a little bit of a himbo. he is moving through life at his own pace and he is overthinking everything with all that anxiety, but not in a practical way. this man uses 18-in-1 toiletries exclusively and does not have a skincare routine. i don't mean like, oh, he doesn't use serums. i mean he's in the shower like 'oh the runoff from this combination shampoo-conditioner-body wash-shaving gel will get my face clean so i don't have to bother with washing that separately'. this man shakes the excess water out of his hair and is lucky enough to be blessed with his mother's curls, so it just sort of.... dries in a shape. he has never intentionally styled it. he does not understand why learning this frustrates people like phoenix and hangman immensely.

he can make eggs and toast and a grilled cheese and heat up a can of soup but that's about it, and it's not because carole didn't try to teach him- but when he was little he had too much energy to stand still and pay attention in the kitchen, and when he was older and shouldering more responsibility, she was too sick to teach him. he makes a mean box of macaroni and cheese. he would know. he's only eaten like 10,000 of them since leaving home ajdhfjfhg.

24. what character from another fandom reminds you of them?

aaaaaa this is a very tough question actually, i don't know if i really have a good answer for it. i almost skipped this one because my answer will be very imperfect, lol, but i have a very very basic option that came to mind and i'm just going to run with it and highlight their (arguably few, though notable) similarities:

this is andy travis from the very old and obscure tv show, wkrp in cincinnati.

some of the information i am about to share about him is disputable because they're a little vague about his backstory but i used to write for this fandom a lot so i Have Decided What's True lol

he's a huge perfectionist, overly cautious until he gains confidence in his abilities and relationships later in the series, and also is actually very caring and friendly. much like bradley, if he is in your corner he's in your corner and he's doing whatever he has to for you. if he's not in your corner- you're enemies.

unfortunately he's not very much in his own corner and he doesn't place much value on himself outside of his accomplishments.

he is an orphan who was raised by his aunt and uncle instead. he wanted to do something with his life that they felt was risky and didn't really want him doing, but he was determined that it was the only thing he wanted in life, and he measures his worth as an individual by practically making himself sick with the effort of succeeding.

he's also a himbo with accidentally perfect hair who doesn't understand why people think it's frustrating that he lives like this

he also canonically exercises and punishes himself in other ways instead of actually dealing with his emotions (rooster doing too many push ups on the tarmac 🤝 andy going for runs after work even tho he hates it because hes upset at himself for having no life ot successes)

idk the similarities probably stop here tbh this is the only other overly perfectionist orphan i have ever written for so my pickings were slim ok 😭😭let's not talk about it too much akjdhdjfhfhjf

[abirddogmoment]

A memory of Mav and baby Pike? A memory of baby Mav and Marlo?

Mav and baby Pike: Mav took a while to warm up to Pike so this video lives rent-free in my mind. I love every single time Mav opened his mouth real wide to eat the baby.

Marlo and baby Mav: Shortly after I brought Mav home, Marlo had a health scare and had to be taken to the city hospital a couple hours away. I left Mav with a friend so he wouldn't have to come spend all day at the vet (he didn't have all his shots yet). When I came to pick him up 10 hours later, he didn't care about me at all but he was overjoyed to see Marlo. She was still drugged up but he was so gentle, he snuggled up as close as he could get and lay there with her all evening.