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smaptain-smerica · 1 year

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Female Reader x Rooster

Time: Post-Top gun: Maverick

Y/n Blackwood - L/n, daughter of Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood. Y/n took a strong interest in planes from a young age. Knowing her father was an esteemed pilot drew her even further into the navy. Quickly, she became one of the best solo pilots and graduating at the top of her class at Top Gun.

Her next mission? Return to Top Gun, Face certain death, romantic interests, and finally, her thought-to-be-dead, father.

This book contains strong language and sexual content that may be sensitive readers under the age of 18

This story was originally posted on Wattpad, follow me on there for faster updates. I have published a non-binary version of this story published there for those who do not identify as female or use she/her pronouns. It will follow the exact same story line. Link to Wattpad Account Link to the Non-Binary version

Disclaimers

I do not own the top gun characters. My writing is not a direct reflection of how the company wishes to portray their franchise.

I understand that both Tom cruise and Kelly McGillis both present ethnically white. Their relationship is essential to the story. However, I will be including skin color as a customization to the readers character. Inclusivity is important to me and I apologize for any disappointment or discomfort that it may cause the reader.

Master list

Pilot

Cherry red, 1968, Ford Mustang Fastback Shelby GT 500.

My moms most prized possession.

For a while I remember it just being me and my mom. When my mom was pregnant, My dad died in a horrible plane accident, leaving just the two of us girls getting into heaps of trouble together. My earliest memories are being babysat by my moms coworkers while she was busy inside the capitol doing important work. Because I didn't see my mom much, I constantly held on to a stuffed grey wolf. The animal never left my hands. I would prop it up on the table when eating and play with it outside. It had become a major comfort mechanism in my early childhood days.

A man I had never met before came to greet my mom one day, asking if he could watch me for a couple hours. He said he had to practice because he had a baby on the way. I remember feeling the stiff and grainy material of the clothes the man wore as I complained about the heat outside. When my eyes adjusted to the sun, there it was; An F-14.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, I completely forgot that toy existed. I dropped it to the ground and wriggled from the man's arms in a full on sprint towards the plane.

He crawled up into the cockpit with me in his lap and let me control the planes joystick. I remember feeling overjoyed by the feeling of being inside of that closed and tight space. I knew in my gut it's where I belonged.

My mother was furious, of course, that her friend had taken me outside without her knowing. But seeing the smile on my face as I wiggled around the joystick and the large helmet fell in front of my eyes, her mind quickly changed. My mom picked up my toy wolf and brought it to the plane. She always explained the interaction between her and the man as such a turning moment in my life as well as hers.

"She's a natural, Charlotte. Just wait 'till she's old enough to fly one."

"I haven't seen this stuffed animal leave her hands in so long, it's such a nice sight."

The man flipped me around to face him, lifting me into the air to make me pretend that I was flying. I erupted with giggles, sticking my arms out like the airplane.

"Well let me be the first to give her a call sign then." The man said.

My mom laughed. "Call sign? What could iceman possibly want to call my daughter?"

"Wolf. It's already been decided. I'll help her be the best pilot in the program. She'll even pass me in the top gun records." He spoke as though it were a long lost dream of his, to teach. But Iceman was moving up in scansion, he didn't have time to do so.

"You'd do that for me and my girl?"

"Of course, Charlie. Anything for you."

In high school I played all four years of volleyball as well as two years in middle school. In addition to that I also took strength training classes where I lifted weights and worked out with all the other boys sports. There were a couple girls from my team in my class, but none of them pushed me as hard as the boys did.

I mostly focused on upper body. Arms, chest, back, core, all to prepare me for one faithful day junior year. The day that the recruiting scouts for the army came it set up their pull up bar.

They offered a free T-shirt to any student who could do over 10 pull-ups. I stood in a line of boys, confident and ready. I got up to the bar, looking up at its height. I got up on the stool and grasped the bar firmly. 10 pull-ups came easily to me. From behind i could hear some of my friends in my weights class cheering me on. I made it to 27 before I finally gave up.

I was frustrated with myself that I couldn't make it to 30, but seeing the smiles on the recruitment officers faces made that disappointment completely disappeared. A few weeks later, a recruitment package showed up in my mailbox. My mom and I were elated. I know I know, they probably send them to every kid who puts their name and address down for the pull-up challenge but it still felt good.

My senior year I enlisted the day that I turned 18. I was ecstatic for the dream to actually become a reality. I graduated high school with honors cords, sports cords, and a military service cord.

I quickly went into the Navy, completing the required boot camps and trainings in order to become an officer. In between my few years of training, my mom got married to a man named Harold L/n, but we called him Harrie. I liked him a lot, he was extremely supportive and proud of me and every step I took to becoming a pilot. To show my appreciation, I hyphenated my name to be Blackwood-L/n.

I got accepted into the Naval Air Forces program quickly and began my training to learn to fly the fighter jets I remember being obsessed with as a small child. By my senior year in high school I knew the book inside and out, so I was the know-it-all of my class. This caused some tension between the other students and myself, so I was mostly a lone wolf.

I excelled quickly, passing every other student with flying colors. Flying jets is what I was born to do, I could feel it in my bones. I completed the air academy and got deployed on a few missions, proving even more what an exceptional pilot and essential asset I was for the Navy.

One day I got called into my commanders office. He informed me that I had been selected to the Top Gun flight school. This was the moment I had dreamed of for my entire life, and now it was finally happening. There was a brief few month period where I could visit home before being shipped out to the school.

My mom and I spent that entire time finding the best instructors from around there world to teach me how to be the best pilot I could be. There was one man in particular I wanted, but my mom said they had too much history, It would never happen.

I looked up to Pete "Maverick" Mitchell for most of my time in the Navy. I admired his skill and his ego. No matter how many rules he broke or how badly they wanted to get rid of him, the Navy wouldn't let him go. And despite his efforts, he refused to die.

Even without the training of the legendary Maverick, I was successful. I mastered nearly every single skill that was required to fly a plane. Along with all the guts and glory it took to not get killed.

I arrived at Top Gun, introducing myself to all the people I would be beating. One man in particular, constantly got under my skin. Jake "hangman"Seresin. We butt heads more than any sibling or spouse could have. We were constantly one-upping each other. He did 200 push-ups, I did 201. If I got up early to get some practice in, the next morning he was up earlier. It was a constant battle, but I was always just a couple points ahead.

Halfway through my time at the program, I got a devastating message. My mother had cancer, stage 4. I was dismissed from the program but promised a second chance and was invited back. I rushed home as quickly as possible. My step-father was a wreck, he hadn't stopped sobbing for days on end. He had hardly done anything around the house to keep up. I told him not to worry, that I was there. I kept up with the house chores and eventually hired a maid to help us.

While I was cleaning I found an old box and inside of it was my Wolf stuffed animal I had as a child. It was beaten up and in need of a wash, but it made me smile. I visited her, the wolf in hand. Seeing my mom in the hospital, so weak and tired, it hurt me more than I can explain.

"Hey momma, somebody wants to see you." I handed her the toy and her face lit up, laughing for the first time in a while.

"I haven't seen him in forever, oh thank you y/n."

I visited her every chance I got, unfortunately her condition only got worse.

One Sunday afternoon I brought her lunch, her favorite food from our favorite restaurant. She stopped me before I could set up the food and handed me a small red envelope.

"When you go back to top gun, if you see Pete- um, Maverick, please give him this. Do not open it. You will know when the time is right." I was confused, but I knew better than to question my mother.

Then the time came, the hospital had informed us that my mother had passed peacefully in her sleep one night. It took my step-father and I a long time to process and cope with what had happened. Our grief was heavy those couple of weeks after her death, and then her funeral. We kept it small, just close family. Iceman made an appearance, wishing my family well.

"Are you coming back to Top Gun?" He asked. "I've got a spot open for you, whenever you're ready."

"Really? You don't need to keep a spot open for me."

"For Charlie's daughter, anything. Besides, Top Gun needs another graduate who was almost as good as me." He told me with a playful wink.

That's exactly what had happened. The next year I rejoined Top Gun and graduated first in my class. I was now considered one of the top pilots in the United States.

I had heard about the famous stealth mission in 2020 that Maverick led as well as other top gun graduates. I was upset I wasn't invited to participate. I called Iceman to complain but he told me the first person that they wanted was me, but I was unavailable. Earlier that year the navy had deployed me overseas, the lack of invitation made more sense now. The navy needed me elsewhere. Unfortunately, that was the last phone call I had with him before he passed. I was unable to attend the funeral. Devastated, I mourned his death of a father figure and friend from many miles away.

And here we are, 2021 and 32 years old. I rumbled into San Diego in my Cherry Red Mustang Hatchback ready to return to Top Gun for a classified assignment. All I have to say is, the other recruits better watch out, they've never been prey for a wolf.

Next Chapter

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 1 year

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10 Forgotten Muscle Cars That Deserve to Be Restored

by James Derek Sapienza

Source: General Motors We all know the story; it started in 1964 with the Ford Mustang. No, wait — I mean the Plymouth Barracuda. Or the Pontiac GTO. Or was it earlier with the Pontiac Catalina SD? The ’50s Dodge D-500 maybe? Debating the origin of the muscle car is like debating over the first rock and roll record; everyone you talk to has a different opinion, and no one is exactly wrong. Let’s just say that by the early ’60s, a generation coming of age fell in love with high-performance midsize cars coming out of Detroit, and for a few brief years, performance ruled the day. Naturally, the good old days seem to look better with each passing year, and as the book was written on the muscle car, a fair amount of contenders fell by the wayside.

1. 1964 Studebaker Avanti R3

Source: Auctions America The Avanti isn’t generally counted among muscle cars, but then, Studebaker was never exactly considered a performance powerhouse to begin with. But the fiberglass Avanti had a long hood, short rear deck, and 289-cubic-inch V8 a full two years before the Ford Mustang did. In 1964 (after production officially ended), Studebaker bored out nine V8s to 304 cubic inches, slapped a Paxton supercharger on them, and dropped them into remaining Avantis. The result was a 171-mile-per-hour rocket, which the company claimed made it the fastest production car in America. This R3 was sold by Auctions America in 2010 for $96,250. With the collector market being what it is today, good luck finding one this cheap ever again.

2. 1965 Pontiac 2+2

Source: General Motors As far as classic muscle cars go, the ’65-’67 GTO is remembered to be about as big as they came. But with the success of the GTO, Pontiac wanted to take its go-fast formula to an even bigger car, which became the ’65-’67 2+2. Based on the full-size Catalina two-door, the 2+2 had its own unique 338-horsepower 421-cubic-inch V8, and in High Output guise, power jumped to 376 ponies, which when tuned right could rocket from zero to 60 in a mind-bending 3.9 seconds. Bigger, plusher, and often faster than its smaller stablemate, the 2+2 deserves a lot more love from speed freaks.

3. 1964 Mercury Comet Cyclone

Source: Ford For ’60s Ford products, the Mercury Comet was about as basic as they came. Closely based on the Ford Falcon, the ’64-’65 Comet could be livened up with Ford’s famous 289-cubic-inch V8. But for those who wanted more from their Mercurys, Ford built 50 Comet Cyclones for the dragstrip, complete with fiberglass hood, fenders, doors and front bumper, plexiglass windows, and the same 425-horsepower 427 V8 found in the Shelby Cobra. In ’66, Mercury introduced the production Comet GT with the 390 V8, and while they’re capable compact muscle cars, they couldn’t hope to match the insanity of their big block predecessor.

4. 1968 Ford Ranchero 500

Source: Ford It’s been long overshadowed by Chevy’s iconic El Camino, but the Ford Ranchero was America’s first car-based Ute. And while Chevy was offering the 396 V8 in its muscle trucks, Ford upped the ante in ’68 and made its restyled Ranchero available with a 335-horsepower Cobra Jet 428 V8. Unfortunately, a lack of weight over the rear wheels made the hot Rancheros a handful to drive, so very few were built with Ford’s biggest motor. While it seems like every surviving El Camino happens to be an SS model, we can’t remember the last time we’ve seen a Cobra Jet Ranchero. Come to think of it, we can’t remember the last time we’ve seen any Ranchero.

5. 1969 Chevy Kingswood 427

Source: General Motors Back in the ’60s, you could order virtually any option you wanted on a car, and companies would actually build it for you. So imagine you’ve got a growing family, and your Corvette just can’t handle them. What to do? Buy a Chevy Kingswood station wagon with Rally wheels, hideaway headlights, seating for seven, and the same 390-horsepower V8 found in your ‘Vette. Only 546 buyers opted for the big V8 in ’69, but a number of 427 Kingswoods spent the next decade making their mark on the drag strip.

6. 1969 Oldsmobile Rallye 350

Source: General Motors When gearheads think of outrageous muscle cars from 1969, the Pontiac GTO Judge easily sits at the top of the list. But while the Judge has gone on to become a legend, Oldsmobile’s analog, the Rallye 350, is all but forgotten. Like the Judge (at least at first) it was offered in one outrageous color (Sebring Yellow), had color-matched wheels and bumpers, a spoiler, and a fiberglass hood. And compared to Olds’s top-dog 442, the car’s 310-horsepower 350-cubic-inch V8 made it significantly lighter, allowing it to scramble from zero to 60 in seven seconds and run the quarter mile in a respectable 15.27 seconds at 97 miles per hour. Just 3,500 Rallye 350s were built, making it one of the more obscure muscle cars to ever come from GM.

7. 1969 Ford Torino Talladega

Source: Ford Half a century on, the Plymouth Roadrunner Superbird and Dodge Daytona get all the love when it comes to NASCAR homologation specials. But in 1969, Ford tried its hand at aerodynamics too and built the Torino Talladega. Starting with a Torino Sportsroof, Ford worked with the Holman-Moody race shop to design a sleeker, longer front clip and rear fascia for the car. The Talladega was honed in the wind tunnel — a relative novelty for the era — and powered by the 429-cubic-inch V8 found in the Boss Mustang. Production was over by March; Ford only built 754 of them and they were barely advertised, but the slippery cars dominated during the ’69 season, winning 29 races. In 1970, however, the 200-mile-per-hour Superbird ruled NASCAR, and the Talladega’s time in the spotlight was over. Today, the Talladega (and near-identical Mercury Cyclone Spoiler II) are bargains on the collector market compared to the beak-nosed Mopars.

8. 1969 Pontiac Grand Prix SJ

Source: General Motors The second-generation Grand Prix is largely remembered for its role in popularizing the Personal Luxury Coupe segment, but in its early days, it was one of the hottest cars on the street. With a long hood (the longest hood of any production car in ’69, in fact) and short deck, the Grand Prix was available with Pontiac’s 390-horsepower 428-cubic-inch V8, allowing it to scramble from zero to 60 in 6.5 seconds and run the quarter mile in 15 seconds at 97 miles per hour. Its combination of luxury and power made it the Grand Prix massive hit for Pontiac; within a few years, any semblance of performance would be gone.

9. 1970 Chrysler Hurst 300

Source: Fiat Chrysler Automobiles As early as 1970, Chrysler die-hards were feeling nostalgic for the 300-letter series, which ended in 1965. The 300-series carried on, but performance had taken a back seat as mid-sized muscle cars had picked up the go-fast mantle. Chrysler tried to recapture the magic for ’70 by outfitting a 300 coupe with the interior from an Imperial, a fiberglass hood and decklid, a 375-horsepower 440-cubic-inch V8, and a Torque-Flite automatic to handle all that power. At 18.5 feet long and 4,400 pounds, the big Chrysler could still make zero to 60 in 7.1 seconds and run the quarter mile in 15.3 seconds. With just 500 built, the Hurst 300s rank as one of the rarest Mopar muscle cars of all time.

10. 1971 AMC SC/360 Hornet

Source: Chris Andrews Productions via YouTube In the ’60s, AMC’s red, white, and blue Rebel Machine and SC/Rambler muscle cars failed to move the sales needle for America’s last independent automaker, but they sure caused a scene wherever they went. For 1970, the company had introduced the compact Hornet and Gremlin to replace the Rambler, and with them came the SC/360 Hornet. With an available 285-horsepower 360-cubic-inch V8 under the hood, the small Hornet could hit 60 from a standstill in 6.7 seconds, and run the quarter mile in 14.9 seconds at 97 miles per hour. But in 1970, displacement still ruled the day, and despite being cheaper than a Plymouth Duster 340, AMC found just 784 buyers for its smallest muscle car. We think it’s aged remarkably well, and would love to take one of these ’70s-era sleepers to the drag strip.

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