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plungermusic · 10 months

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"And we’ll sweep out the ashes in the morning …”

Maverick Sunday is always a little bittersweet: still good music left to enjoy but only a few more hours in which to enjoy it, with a bit of a ‘morning-after-the-night-before clearing-up and putting-away’ feel to it.

Getting a lift in with one of the festival crew meant a nice early arrival, allowing us to hear the excellent Chris Murphy [below] sound-checking almost his entire set ahead of his 10.30 start, the expansive Halfway Around The World sounding highly atmospheric drifting out of the empty Barn in the unbroken sunshine. A later highlight of his set ‘proper’ was a full-crowd participation Tinder disaster ballad (who says country music isn’t bang up to date?) Done With Diane.

Bau Cat (Abby Butler and Jim Davies of the late, lamented Goat Roper Rodeo Band) turned out a suitably chilled Sunday morning set with Carib and Latin flavours topped by a nice harmony combination of her silky tones and his gruffer vocal (not often heard in the GRRB!) And they didn’t seem at all phased at being introduced by an impromptu, but full-length, rendition of Mercedes Benz by the Moonshine’s on-duty soundman…

The only performance on The Green (as always) on a Sunday came from The Rabble Chorus, with a mix of mildly spiritual and secular choral music: no Bach or Haydn sadly, but they did ‘do’ the Hothouse Flowers! Normally unaccompanied they’d drafted in a couple of guitars on this occasion. The only quibble Plunger have is that the choir could benefit from a little amplification, to get the full experience without having to stand just a foot or two away!

Standing outside The Peacock for Drew Young [above], his set was every bit as warm as the sun on our backs, especially the mellow morning lilt of Sideways and the honeyed harmonies of Wondering Where This Will End. A darker note was struck by the haunting minor key Georgia Line, Kelly Bayfield adding the eerie counter-vocals, before taking up a tambourine to help drive the bouncy stomp of It’ll Be Soon. An upbeat finish was provided by A Couple Of Rounds Before I Go, David Booth bringing some twang on electric guitar and topped with a brief crowd-singalong-chorus finale.

Up at The Barn, The Henry Brothers, dapper (and probably bloody hot in the circumstances) in their suits, cheered everyone up with a set of upbeat Old Timey 1920s-style ballads of death, disfigurement and disaster. They were a hoot, to be honest.

LoneHollow [who we sneaked a cheeky portrait of behind the venue, above] returned to the barn for their third set of the weekend, kicking off (after Damon’s laconic “…and the crowd went wild!” observation on the slowly refilling Barn) with his excellent cover of Gregg Allman’s heartfelt Please Call Home, and there were Allmans-y touches too to I Wouldn’t Know How. Their flair for Southern Gothic drama was well represented not only in reprises of Mary Ann and Not Today but in the dark drop-D badlands sweep of Shoot To Kill, Rylie’s airy eerie vocal matched by Damon’s atmospheric slide accompaniment. The pair bade farewell to their debut Maverick with the storming upbeat southern rocker Whiskey Woman.

The closing Moonshine set from Evangeline Gentle [below] was probably as close to a spiritual Sunday experience as Plunger were going to get, her sublime voice bewitching her audience through the anthemic poppy soar of Drop My Name, and an impassioned, warm The Strongest People Have Tender Hearts. Ella Spencer joined her once again, bringing her harmonies to Evangeline’s new single Sarah, before Evangeline ended her set with a spellbinding solo a cappella rendition (in honour of her Scots forebears) of the traditional Black Is The Colour.

Heading past the peacock stage we caught a little of the Hoth Brothers (who follow the Thomson Twins rule - two guys who aren’t brothers, neither of whom are named Hoth, plus Sarah Ferrell... go figure). Some lovely backwoods Appalachian sounds with cracking banjo and fiddle playing.

With the end of the festival rapidly approaching campers and acts who’d already finished were making their way home so there was a certain amount of leave taking that meant we didn’t catch as much of Suzie Ungerlieder’s barn closing set as we ought, but her sweet, cool vox and some melodic guitar work in an emotional Summerbaby and the atmospheric jangling reverie of Walked All The Way Home (from back when she went under the moniker Oh Susanna) were a fittingly mellow way to come down from our Maverick high.

Another cracking weekend of Americana, country and more in highly picturesque surroundings (even if the weather didn’t always play ball), well fed by the wide range of vendors, and watered (well, ‘beered’, if that’s a word) in company with a largely chilled set of like-minded individuals… hands-down the best festival Plunger know.

It’s no wonder it feels a bit like leaving home when it all comes to an end…

#maverick festival #americana #country music #evangeline gentle #lonehollow #drew young #kelly bayfield #david edward booth #chris murphy #suzie ungerlieder

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roosterforme · 11 months

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So Fresh, So Clean | Rooster x Reader

Summary: At first, Bradley is mortified when the guys force him to stop at a carwash featuring bikini clad women from a college softball team. But when he meets you there, he starts to think he should thank his friends instead.

Warnings: Fluff and swearing

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

I wrote this for a request and for @wicked-remarks Summer Festival! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Dude, stop at In-N-Out. I'm starving," Payback whined from the passenger seat as Bradley zipped down the road in his Bronco.

"Nah, just stop at Starbucks," Jake argued from the backseat. "I need more caffeine."

"We're going to be late," Bradley groaned, passing the fifth fast food place while Payback whined and pointed out the window.

"We told Nat we'd be there around noon," Coyote said from the back. "I mean, if we stopped for food, we could grab something for her too."

Bradley rubbed his hand over his face, wondering why he had agreed to drive all of these idiots. "Guys, if I stop, I'm only stopping once. Then straight to the beach. So decide what you want."

Then Coyote started stuttering at the same time Payback said, "Holy shit! Pull over! Pull over!" Bradley looked where Payback was pointing, and then he saw a sign that said University of San Diego Softball along with a car wash and a lot of scantily clad women.

"Fuck caffeine. We're stopping here!" Jake said, practically climbing into the front seat. "Come on, Rooster!" He started trying to grab the steering wheel, and Bradley had to smack his arm away.

"Seriously!" Bradley yelled. "Stop reaching for the steering wheel!" He slowed down as all three of his passengers started loudly begging him. "You want to look at a bunch of college girls who couldn't care less about you more than you want burgers?"

"Hell yes!" Payback sang as Bradley put his turn signal on and pulled into the parking lot where the collegiate softball team was holding a very popular looking car wash. There were so many cars lined up, and a lot of men milling around. Bradley parked next to a pickup truck and eyed the women in wet tee shirts and bathing suits while Jake pounded on the back of his seat.

"They are practically naked! Get out so I can get out!" Jake whined.

"Chill!" Bradley said, loud enough that he had the attention of all three of them. "You guys need to be on your best behavior. I'm not kidding!"

"Look at them," Coyote said, pulling his sunglasses lower on his nose and whistling. "These girls are hot."

Bradley groaned. "Yes, I see them. And don't call them girls. They're women. And please don't touch any of them. Oh my god, I'm already so embarrassed."

"Let's go," Payback said, opening his door. "Time to flirt."

"They don't want to flirt with you," Bradley muttered. "You're thirty five."

"I dunno about that," Jake drawled, fixing his hair. "That redhead looks like she might like a daddy."

"Oh my fucking Lord, we are going to get kicked out of a fundraiser," Bradley groaned as he climbed out of his door and was nearly trampled by Jake.

"Relax man, I'm about to pay for your car to get washed," he said, shoving Bradley out of the way to get over to the redhead holding a hose. "Hey, sweetheart, my name's Jake...."

Bradley headed in the opposite direction, cradling his forehead in his hand. The last thing he wanted was to try to chat up some nineteen year old. He was almost thirty seven, for fuck's sake. But if they wanted to humiliate themselves, that was fine with him. But it didn't mean he needed to watch.

He thought he had found a nice spot to stand and wait while listening to a car stereo blasting Pour Some Sugar On Me. He was out of the way of the guys who were being roped in to helping the girls wash cars now. Jake's shirt was mysteriously missing, and Payback was spraying the hose while a few of the girls screamed.

"Grown ass men," Bradley muttered, pushing his aviators up higher on his nose.

He heard soft laughter and turned to see you standing next to him. And of course you were gorgeous. And young. And looking up at him with a smirk that he should not have found adorable.

"Yeah, well, the deans at the college are always amazed by how much money our car wash fundraisers make every summer," you said, smiling at him. He found himself smiling back.

"My friends almost made me wreck trying to get me to pull over, so I guess that does make sense," Bradley replied with a nod. You were the only one on the team who was still dry, and he could see the straps of your bathing suit tied above the collar of your USD Softball tee shirt. You had on some tiny denim shorts and flip flops, and Bradley bit back a groan and forced himself to look away from you.

"Your friends look like a bit of a handful," you told him. Bradley was treated to the sight of Coyote dancing to the music in the spray of the water.

"Just show them women in bathing suits, and this is what they turn into." You were laughing and gaping up at him, as Bradley quickly added, "They're harmless though! I promise! Your teammates have nothing to worry about! They just like to flirt."

"Teammates?" you asked, head cocked to one side.

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, really trying so hard not to look directly at you. Fuck, this was getting difficult. He could tell that your bathing suit was red through your snug fitting white tee shirt, and now he was looking at your chest. He pinched the bridge of his nose over his sunglasses and rolled his shoulders, trying to focus on the dirt being rinsed off a filthy car. "Your teammates? Uh, are you a senior? Or team captain or something?"

Your laughter rang out as you said, "No, not exactly."

"Oh. Uh, what position do you play?" He knew he was rambling now. Really, he should just get out of here.

"I used to play third base."

And now Bradley was biting his knuckle, because he was thinking about getting to third base with you, unzipping those little shorts in the backseat of his Bronco and slipping his hand inside. "Oh god," he swallowed hard. He was worse than the rest of the guys who were currently covered in soapy water and surrounded by softball players.

"I'm their coach."

Bradley froze, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "You're the coach? The softball coach?"

"Yeah. They're not my teammates."

Bradley turned to face you and let his eyes drift down your body and back up to your face. You did look a little older than twenty two. And that's probably why you weren't actively washing the cars. He must have been staring for too long, because you were smirking again as you held out your hand and introduced yourself. "Head coach of USD women's softball."

He took your smaller hand in his. "My name is Bradley, and I'm really hoping you're going to tell me you're like twenty eight years old?"

"I'm thirty," you said slowly, still holding his hand and looking at him with a confused smile.

"Even better," he said, smiling happily and pulling you a little closer by your hand. "So, you played third base? Which school?"

"University of Oregon."

"Shit. You must be good."

"I'm very good," you told him, and Bradley squeezed your hand a little tighter.

"I'll bet you are."

"Do you play?" you asked, really sizing him up now.

"Yeah, just on a Navy rec league. But I'm very good, too."

"Bet I can guess which position you play," you told him before you bit your lip, and Bradley swore he was never going to let go of your hand.

"Okay. Go ahead and guess."

"But...if I'm right, you owe me a drink," you said coyly.

Bradley's eyebrows shot up. "Then you better fucking get this right."

With a bright laugh, you told him, "You look like a shortstop."

"Damn. You are good."

"I'm right?" you asked, and he nodded. "You owe me a drink."

Bradley took his sunglasses off with his left hand, and your smile grew. "Listen, as soon as you told me you're not a student, I was absolutely going to ask you out. So all you did was make it easier for me."

You pressed your lips together in pleasure, and it was so adorable. "You're still holding my hand."

"I know," he confirmed with a nod. "When are you free? Tomorrow?"

You licked your lips. "I'm coaching a game tomorrow, Bradley. You know, since I'm not a student."

He smirked at the way you were sassing him before asking, "Is it home or away?"

"Home. At USD."

"You gonna invite me to watch?" he asked, and you looked so damn pleased with yourself now.

"Would you be coming just to ogle the players?" you asked, nodding toward the soaking wet women who were now spraying the hose at Payback. "You know they wear their uniforms to the games instead of bathing suits, right?"

He narrowed his eyes and glared at you playfully. "It's much more likely that I'd be ogling their coach."

"Oh, I like that," you told him. "You can come then. And we can get that drink afterwards?"

"Absolutely," Bradley said, and he finally released your hand as he added, "Can I get your number?"

"Mmhmm."

He retrieved his phone from his pocket, unlocked it and handed it to you. He watched you enter your contact information, and then you handed it back to him, letting your fingers linger on his. "Text me later today, and I'll send you a ticket to the game."

"Sounds good, coach. I can't wait."

You glanced to the side and then met his eyes again. "It looks like your car's done. And your friends look like an actual disaster."

Bradley groaned as he saw the three of them getting the soap hosed off so they could leave. "Yeah, let me go babysit them for the afternoon. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, you will." And then you put your hand on his chest and kissed his cheek before you turned away to help one of your players who was calling for your attention.

Bradley tucked his phone away and watched you as he made his way toward the Bronco. You waved to him and he smiled back before turning to assess his three sopping wet friends.

"Rooster, you idiot!" Coyote said, dripping water on the pavement. "You just stood there like a lump, man."

"We got phone numbers," Jake drawled, holding his wet phone while Bradley snorted.

"Yeah, we did," Payback said, high fiving Jake. "And we're going to meet up with Sylvia and Taylor later tonight at a bar on their campus."

Bradley just shook his head. "Wring out your shirts and get in the Bronco. Nat's already going to kill us, I hope you know that."

"Worth it," the three of them said in unison. And while Bradley waited for them to dry off a bit, he sent you a text.

Can't wait for tomorrow.

And right before he pulled out of the parking lot, you wrote back.

XOXO

And there was a ticket to the USD softball game for tomorrow afternoon attached.

"Hey, what the fuck?" Jake said as Bradley drove down the road toward the beach. He had his phone to his ear as he added, "Taylor gave me a bogus phone number!"

Payback scrambled to unlock his phone, and a second later, he had it on speaker. "Oops, it looks like the person who gave you this number is not actually interested in you! Better luck next time!"

"Damn," Coyote said, completely crestfallen. "Sylvia gave us a bogus number, too."

"I spent fifty bucks to get this thing washed for nothing!" Jake complained, gesturing around the Bronco.

"I can't believe we all struck out today," Payback whined. "We should have just stopped at In-N-Out."

Bradley bit his lip and shook with silent laughter. "Yeah, you all struck out. What a shame." But he was already thinking about where he was going to take you out for a second date.

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The way Rooster flirts, just holy shit. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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unlawfulchaos · 4 months

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Mav, writing a letter to Santa: Dear Santa, I'm writing to let you know that I've been naughty.

Mav, still writing: and it was worth it, you judgemental bastard.

Mav: Cain deserved exactly what he got, and no matter how long Ice stays mad at me, I will not apologise.

Mav: Although my back is starting to hurt from sleeping on the couch.

#mav is definitely in trouble #mav is a petty bitch #ice is mad and staying that way #Mav's festive treat to himself is he gets to commit one vengeful act against cain #what did mav do #who knows #but you know it was something dramatic and excessive #and befitting of his hatred of cain #ice will stay mad until mav apologises #or until mav makes it up to him for the amount of paperwork ice had to do to smooth things over with cain #incorrect quotes #top gun #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick

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themissingmango · 5 months

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#my art #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #top gun fanart #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #javy machado #holiday #festive #Christmas #cozy boys #I love this time of year so much

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pollyna · 1 year

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Slider doesn't speak at the funeral and doesn't speak at the wake. Sarah talks, Mav talks and cries, and Bradley has to move to support him because he looks on the point of breaking, falling, and not moving anymore. Slider doesn't have the words. He tried, since the moment Ice called him and told him, in a whisper, that he was grateful for all that they shared. But the words don't come out. Not a single one other than "Tom was" or "Iceman was". He was what? What?

What?

So Slider sits behind Maverick and at the end of the bar, and takes a shot to the memory of a twenty years old kid, bleached hair tips, correcting his maths work and to the man Slider saw every year from that moment and cries for all that he won't see.

#tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #MCD #implied icemav #inspired from the gifset :)#i probably going to write a lot more once the whole festival thing is done in the next seven hours lol #top gun: maverick #iceman & slider friendship

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polar-equinoxx · 1 year

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I would like you all to know that I am in no way shape or form, sorry.🎄

#ITS THE FIFTEENTH ITS TIEM TO GET FESTIVE YALLS #ms tg #MU HAH HAH HAH #ms art #i have drawn this every year. this year is my third year of redrawing it hehe #the first two are obikin ones and i might post them on the main- mysty-swirl #how many years can i get away with not drawing mistletoe from a reference? three?#top gun #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 1986 #top gun fanart #fanart

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parkjammys · 2 years

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Jay Ellis, Miles Teller, Jon Hamm, Danny Ramirez and Glen Powell on the red carpet at Cannes Film Festival for Top Gun: Maverick

#danny ramirez #glen powell #jay ellis #miles teller #jon hamm #top gun: maverick #cannes 2022 #cannes film festival

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mustasekittens · 2 years

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Happy Mid-autumn Festival!🌕🐇🥮

since both Halo and Yale are Chinese and Korean respectively, I wanted to draw them celebrating mid autumn together! here's the pair eating some mooncakes and songpeyon and probably talking about the stuff they did with their families back home

close ups ^ _ ^

#top gun #top gun maverick #fanart #sketch #halo top gun #yale top gun #mid autumn festival #中秋节 #moon cake #songpyeon #chuseok #callie bassett #callie shen #callie halo shen #callie halo bassett #logan lee #logan yale lee

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bradshawsbaby · 2 years

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Who gave this man the right?

#miles teller #cannes film festival #top gun: maverick

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plungermusic · 2 years

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“Well, I found it now: you’re like coming home…”

… after the vanished #13 and the not-quite-normal atmosphere of Covid passes (and autumnal temperatures) of #14, Maverick #15 was back in its rightful July slot and all was right with the world. Maverick always had a more domestic familiarity than your bigger impersonal festivals: less commercial, more relaxed, and that was all the more welcome this year.

Part of that familial familiarity is a rolling cast of favourites who return year on year, and it was one of those, the seemingly ubiquitous Lachlan Bryan, who with his band The Wildes was opening the festival on the Barn stage with a rollicking Oz Badland outlaw ballad as we passed heading for the Moonshine to catch the Drew Young Band (below), another returning artist.

Their set drawn largely from his long awaited album Bourbon & Bad Decisions showcased his rich molasses-and-whiskey timbre (they don’t call him the Americana crooner for nothing) against easygoing Eaglesy ambles like Falling Down, the brisk Petty-meets-CSN stride of Try Me with its tight harmonies courtesy of Kelly Bayfield, and Fix My Broken Blue’s Little Green Apples-via-Laurel Canyon hybrid, with some lovely pedal steel-mimicking guitar from Andy Trill.

Back at the Barn, a brand new name for Plunger (and Maverick) was San Franciscan artist/producer Mickelson (above): an impassioned songwriter with a fantastically sinewy Springsteeny vocal as evidenced in the protest of UNarmed American, the cleverly jerky off-kilter beat and piano underpinning of Jagged Tooth and a Bruce-cum-Neil epic sprawl Hercules And Ironman with hypnotic banjo from Scott himself. Probably Plunger’s discovery of the festival.

The Blue Highways (below) are well known to Plunger, although we’d always somehow missed the chance to see them live before. Another band who mine a rich seam of blue collar New Jersey epics (although stripped by necessity of some of the big production frills of Long Way To The Ground) there was still bags of Brucey bombast in the gritty vocal, expansive riffs, and frequent stop/start, quiet-bit-and-slow-build-back moments in Only A Matter Of Love and He Worked, as well as a highly impressive near a cappella opener, Tonight My Love.

Dirty Cello got huge appreciation (and not a little dancing) at the Peacock with their crowd-pleasing hillbilly hoedown two-step takes on popular favourites like Gimme Shelter, Proud Mary, Devil Went Down To Georgia, reminding Plunger most of a raucous cello-led Hayseed Dixie (and not really our thing!) A bit more polish came from Karen Jonas (below) back at the Barn. The slow Nashvilletastic waltz of Out In Palm Tree Paradise, a rattling cover of Johnny Cash’s Big River and the full-on Patsy-Clinesque cry-into-your-beer break-up farewell of Country Songs spelt ‘country’ with a capital C… marvellous!

Despite a brief moment of “wait a minute… this is BLUES!” (cf everything Plunger have ever written) at her Hookerish opening number, Kara Grainger (below) delivered a soulful set at the Barn with a notably Crayish cover of Breaking Up Somebody’s Home, and a slow TTB-like southern soul take on Storyville’s Good Day For The Blues with some judicious subtle slide to allay our fears.

Passing the Peacock gave us the briefest hearing of The Baskery, a frankly bonkers but skilful Swedish banjo-led jug band that mixed everything from slick late-Mac multi-part vocals and freeform trancey noodling to a rockabilly-beat-backed The Damned riff topped with Andrews Sisters harmonies. Oh, and an a cappella rendition of a 17th century Swedish folk song, as you do…

With the Barn headliners Vandoliers carrying on the same hell-for-leather stomp vibe of Dirty Cello, Plunger opted for the mellow duo The Black Feathers (above) down at the Moonshine. Two voices with restrained guitar accompaniment held the crowd spellbound down by the waterside, with high Old Time harmonies on an apt Down By The River, surprise covers like a junkerdash run at Spirit In The Sky, the slick Jackson Browne-does-trad-folk Lighthouse On Fire and the fragile heartbreaking harmonies and pauses of Strangers In The Dark. A particular favourite was the confessional rehab song Holy Water with its call-and-response duetting and atmospheric Crosbyish chords… you could have heard a pin drop (were it not for the oompa-oompa drifting down from the Barn). A suitably chilled close to day one of Maverick #15.

#Maverick Festival #americana #drew young #drew young band #mickelson #blue highways #karen jonas #kara grainger #the black feathers

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