#forsty fic

[forsty]

FIC: It’s Time to Let Go

ANOTHER FIC? nice 

Fandom: Top Gun / Top Gun: Maverick

Rating:  general audiences

Warnings: None

Words:   2298  

Summary: Iceman has a chat with Rooster about Maverick related things. Or as I titled it in my google documents: "Iceman smacking Rooster at the back of the head"

Read it on Ao3!

The Top Gun breakroom was once again filled with loud and energetic fighter pilots eager to spend their short free time relaxing. Hangman and Coyote were in an intense battle over a game of foosball. Bob and Phoenix were sitting on the opposite couch, laughing and showing each other stuff on their phones. Phoenix always had a cute giggle, the way her nose scrunched up. Bob kept having to shove his glasses back into place with every laugh. Fanboy and Payback could be heard in a heated but friendly discussion to the right by the bar along with Halo and Fritz.

Rooster was sitting opposite of Bob and Phoenix, his arm leaning on the couch rest and his phone in the other hand, scrolling through news apps. Hangman had leaned over his shoulder earlier and said in his usual demeaning way,

“What’s with old people and reading the news all the time?”

Which had earned him a giggle from Coyote and an annoyed huff from Rooster. He wasn’t in the mood to come with some snarky comeback.

“Rooster.” Warlock’s voice by the door made every pilot in the room look up. Rooster turned his head to look, a question mark printed on his face. Warlock seemed uneasy with everyone’s attention on him, but the older pilot quickly re-asserted himself.

“Admiral Kazansky wishes to speak with you. In Cyclone’s office.”

All heads turned to look at Rooster and the pilot swallowed hard.

“Now?” He asked, knowing it was a stupid question.

“Yeah, Rooster. Now. You don’t keep the admiral waiting.” Warlock answered, waiting for the pilot to get off the couch.

“Right, sorry Sir.” Rooster answered and got up, walking towards Warlock and the door like he was a kid in school walking towards the principal’s office. All eyes followed him as he moved past them.

“Ooooh, someone’s in big trouble.” Hangman’s voice said, a wicked grin on his face as Rooster walked past him. Ignoring Hangman has gotten easier over the years.

The room was still silent even after Rooster and Warlock had left, everyone’s gaze still at the door. Being summoned by Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was not something Top Gun pilots took lightly.

“He must be in big trouble.” Coyote said. “Wonder what he did…”.

Bob and Phoenix shared looks. The curiosity that seeped out of her was almost visible and for a moment Bob feared his best friend might follow to eavesdrop.

“Rest in peace, Rooster… You will be missed.” Payback said somberly and most of the pilots laughed, as if being summoned by Admiral Kazanksy was a death sentence.

-------

Warlock held the door to Cyclone’s office and Rooster brushed past him, giving the Commander an awkward “thank you” nod, who returned the nod and closed the door behind him.

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was standing by the row of windows, surveying whatever was going on outside. Ice rarely came to the base these days, if he even did at all. Rooster couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the Admiral walk those halls. They were alone in the office, Cyclone was nowhere to be seen. At Ice’s request, Rooster guessed.

“Sir, you wanted to see me?” Rooster declared and stood a bit straighter, addressing the Admiral. Ice let out a long sigh as Rooster’s voice filled the room. The older man seemed tired.  

“Let’s drop the formalities, kid.” Ice said, his voice hoarse and he turned to look at Rooster.

“Right now, I’m not your admiral.” he said and pointed towards the chair that was seated beside the chair Ice was turning his attention towards. Rooster moved on instinct to support the older man, but Ice held up a hand, denying the help.

“If you’re not my admiral, then what are you?” Rooster asked as he stepped closer, hesitant to sit down. Ice stared at him and patted the seat next to him.

“What I’ve always been since you were six. Your Uncle Ice. Now sit.”

Rooster obeyed and sat down next to Ice who leaned back and let out another sigh. His ice blue eyes bored into Rooster, who had let out a small chuckle. It had been some years since Rooster had called the admiral ‘Uncle Ice.’

“We need to talk about Mav.”

Rooster immediately wrinkled his nose and his eyebrows furrowed. He twisted in his seat but sat quietly once Ice’s strong hand landed on his arm, as if to keep him from flying away.

“Ice, I’m not-”

“You will listen. You know me, I’m not like Mav. I’m not going to wrap you up in bubble wrap or treat you like you might break. I’ve always been honest and direct with you.”

Rooster felt like he was 14 years old again, standing in front of Ice who stood tall and proud with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow as the older pilot glared down at him. Rooster had picked a fight with a classmate which had resulted in a busted lip and being sent home, plus suspended for two days. Mav had been on assignment, leaving the kid to face Uncle Ice.

He loved Uncle Ice with his whole heart. He had been a welcome addition to their strange little family when Mav first brought him home when Rooster was six. They had been careful around each other at first, Rooster’s caution due to the man being a stranger, and Ice’s caution because he wasn’t used to children. If there was one thing Iceman did best, it was learning fast. It didn’t take long before the two of them were best friends.

“-and I always appreciated that.” Rooster said softly, looking at Ice. The older pilot’s eyes softened along with his grip on Rooster’s arm. It had been years since Rooster felt connected to either of his uncles, but he suddenly realized how much he burned for that connection once more.

“So, about Mav.” Ice began, and there was that tension that vibrated through Rooster's body once again. Sixteen years of anger and bitterness wouldn’t go away that easily.

Ice, sensing Rooster’s tension, fastened his grip on the younger pilot's arm.

“This has been going on for long enough, and I’m tired of it. I know Mav is and I know you are as well.” Ice said, and when Rooster was about to protest, the admiral held up his other hand in a ‘I’m speaking’- manner.

“I know, believe me, kid, I know it hurt you and I know it still does.”

Rooster was about to protest again. ‘Hurt’ was an understatement, but Ice shot him a look and the younger pilot kept his silence.

“Mav, he…. Sometimes people are met with choices. Impossible choices, but they are still choices we have to make. Mav made a choice. Whether that choice was right… I can’t say.” Ice paused and surveyed Rooster’s face. The younger pilot was tense, but he was listening.

“He loves you, and he always will.” Ice’s voice was soft and quiet, and he spoke the honest truth. Rooster finally met his uncle's eyes.

“Even after everything? The way I treated him all those years? Ignored him?” Rooster asked, his voice quiet. There had been moments in the past sixteen years where Rooster had missed his Uncle Mav to the point of contacting him. Held the phone in his hand with Mav’s number ready or typed out a text message and all he needed was to press send. There had been times Rooster had really needed his Uncle Maverick.

Ice’s face melted into a smile Rooster hadn’t seen since he was a kid.

“Even after everything. He understands your anger, Bradley. He doesn’t blame you. He just misses you and worries about you.” Ice said.

Rooster looked away from his uncle and down at his shoes. How strange for a 35 year old grown man to suddenly feel like a vulnerable teenager again.

Ice leaned back in his seat and regarded Rooster. A smile spread across his face as he watched his unofficial godson. Maverick was Rooster’s godfather, but Ice was his “unofficial godfather”.

“You know… Parents will always love their children, no matter what they do. It’s what parents do. Maverick will never stop caring for you.” Ice’s voice was soft but firm, needing to get his point across.

Rooster let out a sigh and for a moment Ice felt relieved that perhaps he had gotten through to him.

“But what he did… I don’t know how to… I don’t know how to put it behind me, Uncle Ice.” Rooster’s usual deep voice was so quiet, Ice almost didn’t hear him.

“I don’t know how, or even if I can forgive him.”

Ice’s gaze didn’t leave where it was fixated on watching Rooster’s face, whose own gaze was facing down. The admiral nodded and squeezed his grip on the pilot's arm once more.

“If not for Maverick, or for yourself….” Ice began and he leaned in closer, making sure he had Rooster’s attention,

“Do it for your father.”

Ice’s voice was strict and clear, and Rooster immediately met his uncle’s eyes, his heart skipping a beat. Had it been anyone else who had said those words, brought his father into this, he would have opted to respond with fists instead. But it was Ice who had said it, so Rooster only stared at him.

“Do it for Goose.” Ice continued, his voice softer. “He would have hated to see you two like this and you know that, Bradley.”

Ice had always been direct with him. He never sugarcoated anything or tried to shield Rooster, which the younger pilot knew and had often appreciated. He figured he shouldn’t have been surprised that Ice would pull a move like that, and besides, Ice was right. The guilt he had felt the last years towards his father, who he barely remembered, had somehow made his bitterness even worse.

Rooster’s eyes fell down to the floor again.

“That’s unfair of you, Ice.” he said quietly.

“Perhaps it is, kid.” the admiral said and leaned back in his seat, sighing.

The pair sat in silence for a few more minutes. Rooster’s gaze didn’t dare meet Ice, or else his strong composure might break under the icy eyes of his bonus uncle. Ice kept his attention out the window beside them, occasionally looking over at Rooster.

“Well, my boy. I’ve said my piece.” Ice finally spoke out and made movements to get up from his chair. Rooster was beside his uncle in a heartbeat to help the older pilot, which the admiral accepted this time. Once both pilots were standing, Ice patted Rooster’s shoulders.

“The rest is up to you, kid.” The admiral spoke and with a final affectionate pat to Rooster’s shoulder, he headed towards the door leaving him alone in Cyclone’s office.

Rooster stood there for several minutes after Ice had left, staring out the windows and lost in his own thoughts. It took Warlock three times calling his name before Rooster’s head finally turned towards him.

Warlock was standing in the door, one hand resting on the door handle and one eyebrow raised.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw, are you hearing me?” Warlock called again, his voice was stern but his eyes showed concern. Rooster nodded awkwardly and swallowed the lump in his throat that he didn’t know had formed there.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Cyclone would like his office back, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’m sorry, sir.” Rooster said flustered and walked towards Warlock, who gave him a smile as he passed him in the door.

Once in the hallway, Rooster headed towards the Top Gun break room but stopped in his tracks after just a few steps. The hallway before him was filled with his fellow pilots, all vaguely acting aloof.

Hangman and Coyote were looking at some pictures on the wall next to them, which Rooster knew wouldn’t interest the pair under normal circumstances. Phoenix and Bob were standing by the opposite wall, Phoenix pretending to fix her hair (which didn’t even need fixing) and Bob was typing on his phone (which, by the angle he was standing, Rooster could tell wasn’t even turned on). Payback and Fanboy stood a bit further down the hall, Payback pointing at the ceiling and Fanboy nodding along as if they were inspecting something which clearly wasn’t there. Rooster furrowed his brow at the sight of them.

“Don’t tell me you were eavesdropping?” Rooster called out and everyone looked at him, Bob nearly dropping his phone in the process. Rooster sure knew how to get people’s attention.

“Of course not. Us eavesdrop on you and the admiral ? Why the heck would we do that?” Hangman said and placed a toothpick in his mouth, pointing his grin at Rooster who narrowed his eyes at the Texan. Hangman shrugged and started walking down the hallway, Coyote following in tow and then followed by Payback and Fanboy who both gave Rooster a little wave.

Rooster followed and Phoenix and Bob walked behind him. Phoenix picked up her pace and poked Rooster’s arm.

“So what did the admiral want to talk to you about? You’re not in trouble are you? That stunt you and Maverick pulled? Is that it?” She asked and eyed him suspiciously. Rooster could feel Bob stare at him too, same questions burning behind those innocent doe eyes.

Rooster sighed, but didn’t look at either of them as they walked back to the break room.

“Nothing important, maybe I’ll tell you later.” he answered, earning an unimpressed raised eyebrow from Phoenix.

He knew Phoenix was making a mental note of bugging him about it further later, he knew she didn’t give up that easily. A part of him appreciates it, knowing that people actually cared.

Knowing that Uncle Maverick still cared.

#Top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky #fanfic #writing #forsty fic #anyway

[burymeinwillow]

Werewolf Joe but with some gnarly werewolf claws scars

#bonanza #little joe cartwright #forsty art #I'VE RUINED MY BOY #if I had the power I would WRITE this whole thing into a fic #werewolfjoe

[thebahwrites]

icemav killshot! headcannons? 💞

I HAVE SO MANY 😭😭😭 I need to finish shockwave just for all the icemav/tg86 content

Mav runs super hot because of the temporal engine/field which is very fortunate for Ice so they're actually able to cuddle for extended periods of time, anyone else would get hypothermia in about 20 minutes. It actually helps Mav ~slow down and not overheat, like having his own personal weighted cold blanket. (Also because he's so fucking sweaty in the 86 movie I thought it'd be funny and make sense. Why is everyone so SWEATY in that movie.)

Mav has the bad habit of not actually cooling his drinks anymore because Ice is always around, he simply will not bother putting anything on the fridge, he'll just hand it to Tom. It's been 30 years of that shit, he doesn't complain anymore.

Yeah they have the decades-long argument, "You can be my sidekick anytime." "Bullshit, you can be mine." and "who's the better hero?", no one can settle it because the parameters change depending on who you ask. Official number of defeated villains/enemies? Accolades? Ribbons? Rank? It's annoying, everyone's tired of it, these old men WON'T LET IT REST.

#bah answers #abt: killshot #ask me about killshot #icemav #fic stuff #god I love them sm #someone commission forsty for the killshot icemav designs i will personally come into your house and kiss you on the mouth #ASHGJDGHSAFDADSGHSAD

[letsboo-boo]

i have never commissioned anything before, so i'm not sure how one does this, but i'm SO excited to share the absolutely gorgeous art @forsty drew for me! it's a scene from my fic i'm looking for a partner (someone who knows how to ride) [rated e] or how i like to refer to it, the bull riding fic, which is very dear to me for it was my first attempt at proper smut. (if the scene rings a bell, it's probably because the fic and art are inspired by that one video i think everyone here has seen at least once)

anyway, my life's been a shitshow for months, and it got even worse these past couple of weeks, so seeing this silly idea of mine come to life thanks to forsty and @thebahwrites has been a highlight for sure. thank you both again for holding my hand through my first commission and elevating the art from extraordinary to perfect 💙💙

#hangster #sereshaw #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun art #tg:m art #fanart #forsty art #art commision #top gun maverick #minors dni #there's a couple of people who may be interested in this but i'm too awkward to send it to them. so i hope they see it eventually <3

[katiesharms]

absolutely obsessed with this incredible art i comissioned from @forsty!! it's a scene from the last chapter of my fic hold the line (love isn't always on time), or as i affectionately call it 'old men in love' because it's about them finding each other later in life

thank you again to forsty for bringing this scene to life and @thebahwrites for being so great to work with. i love it so much, and i hope u all love it too!!

#hangster #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun art

[redfurrycat]

👮‍♂️🤠🕴️🐓Bradley & Jake: un duo très spécial 🐓🕴️🤠👮‍♂️

I'm so happy to share the amazing art that I commissioned from @forsty. It is linked to a fic I'm working on, a White Collar au with con artist Jake Seresin and FBI agent Bradley Bradshaw. [You can have a look at this post and this other post for more details about the general plot.]

GORGEOUS piece of art, ain't it? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[Thank you so much for this baby, Fors, and also thanks to @thebahwrites for handling the comms part! You both did a lovely job! 😘]

WARNING. Be respectful of the art and the artist who did it. Do not be an art thief like Jake once was [lol still is!]! 😘

#white collar au #with top gun characters #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #art commission #forsty art #Gosh! This is so pwetty...*sigh happily* #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

[hero-in-waiting]

writers asksssss

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

Little Storms by Chandri is one of my fav fics bc John is sometimes wrong and I love that this story addresses it.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

EMOTIONAL DAMAGE EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love it when people say my characterization is true to canon. That is just, hands down one of the best things I can get bc I love the characters because of the canon, bc of traits I see and to know that I'm doing that aspect that inspired me to write them in the first place always makes me giddy.

(also i love it when i make people laugh)

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

I love this one @wonkyelk did of rodney yeeting the wraith. it tickles me so much

and this one is hilarious to me from forsty bc I love goose

and this one of daniel like the grant gustin meme

(message from smudge sorry) l''''''''''''dse

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

each sentence is a new paragraph. that is a hard NOPE for me. like 10000% cannot do it I'm sorry.

#ask meme #ty for the ask!

[asimmutableasgravity]

songbird speculations

hello!! i talk too much on twitter and i have somethings i want to say:

do you want to hear about the story of a band, their frontmen, and how they fell apart? intense chemistry, co-written songs, and the band of a lifetime. keep reading then!

gold rush is in progress right now 😭😭 please don't fear but I HAD BRAIN WORMS SO LMAOOO

(heavily inspired by daisy jones and the six by tjr and specifically by this art by @forsty)

In 1976, Bradley Bradshaw would bring together friends Natasha Trace, Robert Floyd, Mickey Garcia, Reuben Fitch and form The Daggers. With their debut album Turn and Burn being called a 'diamond in the rough' by Rolling Stone reviewer Bud Scoppa and reaching No. 21 on the charts, the band went on to tour the USA.

On one of their tour stops, aspiring singer Jake Seresin is in the crowd. On his way to become a household name from his childhood home in Texas, something would change that night.

The band and the singer would cross paths soon, when The Daggers would need a second voice on a song on their second album, No Points For Second Place. A chance encounter would bring Jake Seresin, now known as Hangman, back into the band's stratosphere.

The song Hard Night, sung by Bradshaw and Seresin, would hit No.2 on the charts. The song would pave roads for the band. The song and the album brought about a sold-out tour and would eventually lead to the addition of Seresin to the band's roster. It soon changed its name to Knife and Daggers, and would become pop-culture legends.

But on February 19th 1980, the band announced their separation.

No one knows why, until now.

(want to hear about the band? how did jake end up there? where's mav? well i cant tell you but ill post more snippets here of the fic if this is well received, also songbird is a tentative title but COME ON its good right)

#top gun fanfiction #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun maverick #sereshaw #hangster #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha trace #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #reuben payback fitch #payback #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy #phoenix #rooster #hangman #reuben fitch #mickey gracia #songbird on ao3 #soon... hopefully

[violetcancerian]

Ahh thank you for the tag @forsty 💕

Whatcha Up To?

Currently reading: the new texts in mine and my friends chat

Last song:

Last Movie: The Dirt (because I got curious)

Currently working on: a fan fic hdjshajaj and debating whether to go and get this sinus headache checked

#Spotify #hobbit talks #andy rambles #i was tagged #forsty #thank you so much!!!

[hangmanbrainrot]

I posted 939 times in 2022

That's 939 more posts than 2021!

71 posts created (8%)

868 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@rooster-84

@babyrooster

@bradshawsbitch

@forsty

@top-hhun

I tagged 619 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#glen powell - 102 posts

#jake seresin x reader - 85 posts

#miles teller - 51 posts

#fic rec - 46 posts

#jake seresin - 40 posts

#answered - 37 posts

#bradley bradshaw x reader - 33 posts

#comment reblog - 31 posts

#shut up sierra - 31 posts

#bradley bradshaw - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#i'm trying to model a character's father after him but i wasn't old enough at the time to remember the early days of his career

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hi! I wanted to request for a hangman fic based on that Tiktok where the girl texts her bf asking where he is because somebody just sent her pics of him getting into some girl’s car and after a little banter, he asks for the pic and it’s a picture of a cockroach getting into a toy car 🤣

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CiYL43Dv719/?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

This was fun! I got none of the other writing done tonight that I wanted to! But I did this and it made me laugh so that's cool!

harmless fun

jake seresin x reader; 395 words; no warnings; written on mobile so be kind to me, pls. ❤

Truth be told, you knew you were needlessly testing the bounds of your boyfriend's love, all for a tiktok. But it would be fun... right?

I can't believe you would do this to me, Jake.

Babe I told you I'd be home when the game is over. Not ditching you

Not that. You know what you did.

What did I do???

You set your phone down, mostly because the fit of giggles you'd devolved into made it harder and harder to hold it and sit upright. You wondered for a moment how long you'd be able to sustain the joke, but thought it best to enjoy the moment. Jake Seresin was many things, but foremost he was actually a great and loyal partner — which only made this whole ordeal funnier. He was an attractive man, and he knew it, so that sometimes was... misread by strangers. Hell, it had taken 3 progressively more dramatic attempts for him to get your attention — and keep it long enough to ask you out on a date. And now look at you: all starry-eyed and wearing the man's old t-shirt while you did dishes in what was technically his house. You'd just moved in a good awhile ago.

And then you realized, in your efforts to be a good housemate and not leave your dirty dishes in the sink for your partner to come home to, you'd totally left him hanging in the middle of a joke that wouldn't seem like a joke if you forgot the punchline.

Hello??

Babe?

Missed call Jake

Can you at least tell me what I did

Missed FaceTime call Jake

Please

Fine!

He'd left you the perfect opening to claim you were waiting it out, but he'd replied in seconds anyway. Just a simple ok. You knew he was growing anxious, and you'd need to wrap this up soon. Poor guy. You could practically see his knee bouncing.

One of my friends just sent me a picture of you getting into a car with another girl!

???

I'm literally sitting here watching the game with Javy. Last I checked, he's not a girl

And then: Send me the picture. Let me see. Please

You were giggling again by the time you hit send on the picture you'd stolen from a quick Google search. Seconds later, your boyfriend replied:

I'm on my way home.

And you just knew he was already planning his revenge.

215 notes - Posted December 1, 2022

#4

idle time

a/n: this was supposed to be short, but here we are. thank you @luminousnotmatter​ for the sweet request!! <;3 warnings: 18+ for blink and you’ll miss it innuendo, anxiety mention, angst, a bit of fluff, a bit of slice of life / domesticity  word count: 965 summary: Bradley has a problem with down time, and you’re determined to help him relax. pairing: bradley bradshaw x f!reader

A rare rainstorm had rolled through Southern California, and the smell of it had settled into the air around the small home you shared with Bradley. You inhaled contentedly in front of the open window in your kitchen, and allowed a smile to ease onto your features. This ‘between deployment’ time was your favorite. The sight of your softly snoring husband curled up beside you, always touching you in some way even while he slept, never failed to soften your heart. It had taken a few weeks at home for his nightmares to lessen, but you knew as soon as he had healed his heart against what he'd put it through, it would be time to reopen those old wounds once more. Maybe less so now, as a TOPGUN instructor, but you weren't convinced he wouldn't find reason to get back in the air on a more regular basis. Still, there was no one else you’d rather help put back together, if it came down to it.

Today, though, today was quiet. After he’d coaxed you out of bed early with a stack of his famous blueberry pancakes, your husband had busied himself with running errands. You knew that he hated idle time and what it did to him, so you let him run himself almost ragged on his days at home, as much as he let you waste away on yours. No matter what Bradley got up to on any given day, he always found time to unwind with you. What was better than that?

You’d finally got the kitchen back into its usual clean state after this morning’s breakfast resulted in more than pancakes being on offer. The rhythmic hum of the dishwasher caused a slight smile to ease onto your features as you wandered toward where your Switch was docked in your living room, then cradling your favorite silly hobby in your palms as you headed outside to where your porch swing sat currently unused. Bradley had installed it not long after you moved in for your ‘future kids.’ The mention made you blush. But right now, it was all yours.

Eyes barely open, you were in the middle of contemplating a nap when you heard the tell-tale sound of Bradley closing the door to his Bronco. You weren’t sure how long you’d been curled up there on the porch swing; the allure of Disney Dreamlight Valley was never one you could resist. You called out a ‘back here!’ and realized you were shouting — the rain had gotten heavier. Idly, you wondered if that was what had your husband returning home. Though, when he rounded the corner of your home and came into view, you could instantly see the scowl of a bad mood planted firmly on his face. You sat up, placing your Switch on the small side table at your left. He didn’t say anything, just wordlessly, sullenly, planted himself beside you. You inhaled a breath to ask what was up, but he shook his head. A beat passed. Then another, and then another. It took another full moment before you raised your hands, palms smoothing over his back, the planes of hard muscle tense beneath his wet t-shirt. You applied a bit more pressure as you continued, and felt his posture lose its rigidity, slowly but surely. Then, you slid your arms around his shoulders, and rested your cheek against his shoulder blade.

Still, you didn’t pry. 

Instead, you gently pulled your husband to lay back with you, then coaxed him into laying his head against your chest. The man was 6’2,” and completely enamored with being held, cradled by you, just like this. As your fingers carded through his curls, you began to hum a faint melody. You were halfway through the song when he began to speak.

“The pantry and the fridge are fully stocked.”

“Okay,” you said slowly.

“And there’s nothing wrong with the Bronco.”

“That’s great, babe.”

“I worked out this morning.”

“Yes, I saw you leave.” 

“And I still have so much…”

“Time?” you finally dared to insert an opinion of your own. Never wanting to overstep, but rather provide space for your partner to open up as he wanted — like a flower, opening and closing of its own accord. You only ever wanted to tend to him, never smother.

But then, he affirmed your suspicion with a soft, huffed: “Yes.”

“Bradley,” you said quietly, “you are allowed to relax, you do know that, right?”

“No, I know—”

“See, I don’t think you do.” He grunted in protest, though he quieted as your fingers massaged into his scalp once more. “I know you hate idle time, and the anxiety that settles into you when you feel like you have nothing to do, but I promise you it’s okay.” 

“You’re safe, baby,” you continued, leaning down to press kisses into the soft bed of curls at the top of his head. His arms came up and around you as much as they could on your small porch swing, then tightened. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He wasn’t parroting the words back. Even without looking at your husband, you could tell he was sincere; he meant it with every solid, square inch of him. This beautiful anxiety-ridden man loved you with all he had. And you loved him all the same. 

One of your hands left its post in his hair and drifted toward his back, where your palm once again moved in slow circles. He didn’t say anything more, and neither did you. Even as the sky began to darken and the rain teetered off to a sprinkle. 

Bradley exhaled out a little sigh, and you thought he was preparing to speak again, but instead, you were comforted by the sound of his soft snores. 

277 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

#3

me: aw he's just a sweet lil guy the guy in question:

287 notes - Posted December 2, 2022

#2

more than this

a/n: HI. Me again! After talking with @rosiahills22, I simply HAD to give this idea a whirl. I hope y’all enjoy! Reader’s callsign is Van Gogh (to be explained) and I don’t use Y/N. :) special thanks to @bradshawsbitch​ for the encouragement. :’)

warnings: so much mutual pining, dash of angst toward the end. Generally, all my posts are 18+ because I don’t want minors interacting with my page! Probably naval inaccuracies.

word count: 3975

summary: You and Jake have been best friends for years now… Why mess with a good thing?

pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader, Jake Seresin x Aviator!Reader — callsign: Van Gogh

See the full post

1,236 notes - Posted November 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

worth it 

a/n: yet again this was supposed to be short but sierra cannot shut up!! <3 thanks anon for this sweet request! i’ll get back to work on my 7 wips now. 🫣 warnings: 18+ for mild coarse language and some shameless thirsting. domestic!hangman is my fave. just super fluffy. word count: 1275 summary: Jake is far more attentive than you previously gave him credit for, but it sparks a big revelation.  pairing: jake seresin x reader

It was rare to come home and not see your boyfriend already there, watching whatever film he was obsessed with this week, especially when he was on leave. You’d never complain, though it was comical to see him in your space. His muscular frame made your furniture look like it belonged in a dollhouse, sometimes. So, today, you were a little sullen to come home and not find him stretched out on your gray sofa, one arm curled behind his head — putting that delicious bicep on display — and one leg hanging off the arm of the couch. 

Though before you could allow your mild and unreasonable disappointment to settle in, your phone rang, your favorite coworker's name flashing across the screen. 

“Hey, you know I'm not currently being paid to talk to you right now, right?” The teasing lilt to your voice was unmistakable. 

“She quit!” Your coworker barked in response, before you could get another word in edgewise.

“What do you mean she quit?”

You put the phone on speaker, then set it down onto your kitchen counter, while you headed toward the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. 

“She marched into the office, handed over an envelope, then walked back to her desk. She’d already packed everything up, so she just grabbed a box and rolled.”

“What?” Your voice had jumped an octave. You stilled, standing at your kitchen island with your hands against the countertop. 

It was at just that moment, your front door opened, and Jake appeared in the doorway, arms full of grocery bags. You waved, then held a finger to your lips and pointed to your phone. He nodded and mouthed an ‘okay’ as he came nearer. Then, your coworker launched into the story, as well as her theories surrounding the resignation of the third assistant editor at the magazine you worked for. You let her go on, muttering a comment or two of your own when you could, for so long that Jake had replaced your bottle of water with a glass of wine. It had taken you a moment to recognize that it was your favorite brand, but last you checked, you’d ran out last week and had forgotten about buying a new bottle. You were definitely listening to your coworker, but your eyes followed Jake around the kitchen, while he busied himself with getting a start on dinner. 

At the next lull in the conversation, you cut in, “Darlin’, I gotta go. Jake’s here.” This earned you a particularly salacious sounding oooh. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you’re bright and early, so we can have front row seats to the mess.” 

When you hung up the phone, you inhaled to speak, but Jake beat you to it, still facing the stove. 

“That bitch Debbie strikes again. I’m telling you, somebody needs to put her in her place. I think it should be you, by the way, I’m just saying.”

Blinking slowly, you wordlessly stared at your boyfriend’s back. Your silence prompted him to turn around, fingers still curled around the handle of the pot he was currently sauteing asparagus in. “What?” He glanced down at himself, then a knowing look crossed his features. With a free hand he gestured toward his body, and the black hoodie he currently wore. “I know, I stole the Navy hoodie back, but it’s really comfortable. I promise I will wash it and return it to your closet where it belongs.”

“Not that, you doofus,” you snorted, closing the small space between you to hop up on the counter beside where he was cooking. You practically had stars in your eyes. “You remembered my boss’ name?”

A look of bewilderment creased your boyfriend’s brows as his gaze settled on you. “Obviously?”

And there you were again, blinking like a fuckin’ owl because what was your life right now? Your perfect boyfriend with his perfect, gorgeous smile, in your tiny kitchen, cooking you dinner and remembering the small details of your life. And, sure, the bar was in hell, but to say your past partners were less than ideal was an incredibly generous statement. 

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you finally admitted, tone noncommittal. 

“What do you mean?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“I mean, I haven’t always received that level of effort before.”

His lips slipped into a frown for a moment, just long enough for you to catch it. “It’s you,” he said softly. “You’re worth it. You’re worth every level of effort. Every level? Any amount? However you say that properly. You’re worth it.” He paused then to point an accusatory finger in your direction. “Don’t make fun of me, English Major.”

He shot you a grin, but the tips of his ears were bright red — a telltale sign of embarrassment. Jake hated when he rambled on, but you loved it. Especially when he wasn’t cognizant of his accent, and it poured out over his words like molasses.

“So, anyway,” he continued, now returning his full attention to the stove. “Enough about Deb. Hate her. How’s Kelly and the baby? Did she and Jason like the gift you got them? I feel like babies can never have enough onesies.”

“We got them,” you corrected, gently nudging Jake’s arm with your own. After all, he had helped you select a gift for one of the other editorial assistants without having ever met the woman or her partner. No, in fact, most of your coworkers only existed as characters in stories to him, but he was fascinated by every little detail you told him. Moreover, as you discovered tonight, he’d retained every detail you’d told him, committed them to memory. Despite the busy, intricate details of his own job, he remembered all of these silly little things about the staff for the magazine you worked for. 

You watched with amusement as a blush colored the blond’s cheeks, though he nodded before parroting back a short ‘we.’ Your eyes continued to study him as he prepared your shared meal, watched the way his eyes lit up when he found you looking at him, the way he babbled on about his cooking technique. 

You were desperately, unshakably in love with this man. And if you were unsure before, you knew it now. And it didn’t matter that sometimes he was worlds away, didn’t matter that you wouldn’t always be in the same time zone, or that sometimes you’d have to fall asleep without the warmth of his embrace. No, this man, and the love he inspired in you, was worth it.

“Did you hear what I said?” he interrupted your reverie, eyes narrowed in playful irritation. 

“I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin.” 

And you weren’t nervous. You knew this man loved you, too, all the same. Because he came home to you and bought your favorite wine and listened to your ranting. Still, your heart was eased when a look of pure adoration crossed his features when he looked at you. He reached a hand out to turn off the fire on the stove, then came to stand between your parted thighs. 

See the full post

1,611 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[forsty]

FIC: Mama

Posting it here as well! My first little fic

Fandom: Top Gun / Top Gun: Maverick Rating:  general audiences

Warnings: Death of parent, cancer

Words:  3372 Summary: Bradley's experiences and thoughts when Carole passes away.(Based on my own personal experiences and feelings. More about that in the notes!)

Read it on Ao3!

Notes:  Based on real life experiences and thoughts/feelings when my mom died of cancer in 2017 (I was 20 or 21). Like… 80% of this story is accurate to what I experienced and felt during that time. My dad isn’t dead though so Mav takes on that role in this lol (I also don’t have an Uncle Ice obviously but god I wish!). There are alot of things from that year (from when mom got diagnosed to when she died) that I simply can’t remember, so some parts may be lacking. ________ The year was 1997 and it had been a warm summer. One of the warmest summers Bradley had ever experienced or so he could remember. Most of it had been spent practicing to get his driver’s license next year so he’d be ready the moment he turned 16. He’d also spent a lot of time with his Uncle Mav, helping him fix the old shed on their property (not that Mav was the best carpenter, but at least the shed didn’t look like it would fall over at any given moment). His mother had finally gotten a job, which she was more than excited about. Uncle Mav had insisted that her having a job wasn’t necessary as he was more than capable of supporting all three of them (with some help from Uncle Ice, Bradley suspected.)

Carole had expressed how tired she was of staying home, not that she didn’t love being at home with her son, but now that Bradley was older, he didn’t need a parent around 24/7. She had been going on about starting this new job all summer, and both Mav and Bradley were more than happy for her.

Carole had been throwing up all summer. It began slowly, throwing up just a few meals in the beginning, but soon she couldn’t keep any food down. She had insisted it was just a stomach flu, but Uncle Mav had insisted she visit the doctor when the third month of this “stomach flu” had started. Bradley didn’t think much of it when it all began, but watching his mother immediately run to the kitchen sink whenever she had tried to eat was making something in the back of his head stir. A thought, a worry, a fear .

The first doctor visit had branched out into seeing several specialists over the months of August and September. She still couldn’t keep any food down and she’d been living on smoothies and water for almost three months, which was showing. Her frame had shrunk considerably, her face becoming sunken in and more tired. Uncle Mav had taken way more leave off duty than he usually did, making sure he would be there for every doctor appointment and meeting Carole had to attend. Making sure she wouldn’t be alone whenever the answers came, whenever that would be. He had tried to be there for Bradley as well, but the young boy had insisted he was fine. His mother needed Mav’s support more than he did, he thought, but he wasn’t really sure. It was the right thing to do , he figured.

How many specialists does one need to see to determine a stomach bug , Bradley had wondered one day in September when Uncle Mav had dropped Carole off at the hospital before driving Bradley to school. He had waited in the car while Mav had helped his mother inside. She had been called in to do some more tests, his mother and uncle had said. It was nothing to worry about, they had assured him. He had only nodded, still wondering how many specialists it took to determine a stomach bug.

“I’ll pick you up after school, and we’ll go see Uncle Ice before picking up your mom, okay?” Mav had said when Bradley had climbed out of the car in the school parking lot. Bradley simply nodded and gave his uncle a sheepish smile. He didn’t want to admit to his uncle how mentally drained he was, but at least being at school meant he could joke around with friends for a while. Pretending everything was alright for a short while, he was getting good at that, pretending, and maintaining the whole ‘I’m going through something difficult, but I’m managing’ facade.

The call came later that day, when Bradley and his uncles were in Tom “Iceman” Kazansky’s home office. His uncles had been talking about fighter jets, as they usually did and something Bradley was usually interested in, but this particular time Bradley had opted to stare out the large windows in his uncle’s office. The sound of Ice’s telephone ringing made him look over. He watched his bonus uncle answer the phone, nod, then hand it to Mav.

Bradley had watched his uncle like a hawk as he spoke on the phone. Watching his uncle’s face darken, turn red, his eyes gloss over and get foggy. Watched him swallow a large lump in his throat. He heard his mother’s voice at the other end. Bradley could feel his breathing ringing in his ears. Ice too became tense, watching his wingman talk on the phone with Carole.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Uncle Mav, but his thoughts wandered to the glass doors in Ice’s office, right behind him. Every muscle in his body wanted to run straight towards them, break through the glass and run away. Bradley swallowed his own throat lump as he watched Mav put the phone down and he glared as the older man took a deep sigh. Watched him try to be strong for the kid in front of him, but Bradley knew his uncle too well, knew how to read him.

“Let’s go see your mom.”

….

Carole had looked so small in that hospital bed when they entered her room, but she had given them the biggest smile she could muster. A genuine smile at seeing her family. Why was she in a bed if she was only here for tests , Bradley had wondered as he walked closer to her.

“Hey you.” She had said and taken his hand in hers. “Hey mom,” Bradley had smiled in return. Mav walked over to the head of the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder, which prompted her to look at him as well and they smiled at each other. She didn’t look all that sickly , he had thought, which made him think maybe it would be okay.

“I have cancer.”

Her words hit him like a slap in the face, and Bradley was certain he would have collapsed right there had he not been already sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair that Mav had offered him. Mav was sitting in the other chair on the other side of her bed, swallowing yet another lump in his throat, his eyes turning red and foggy again.

Bradley didn’t catch what else was said besides some important details, such as “worst case of cancer” and “treatment might help but it was uncertain” and “they would do their best”. His eyes were glued to watching his mother and uncle talk, his mind racing into every possible scenario and thought that could occur. How could this happen? Is it my fault? Did I do this? This can’t be happening. Not my mom… He registered his mother crying, and his uncle crying. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Uncle Mav cry. He vaguely remembers seeing his tears when his father died, but that was so long ago Bradley could barely remember. He felt lightheaded, as if he wasn’t really there. As if he was watching a movie, standing on the side and watching a scene take place in front of him.

He watched his mother, he loved her so much. He tried to think of ways he could fix it, fix her. Make it all magically go away. He watched his uncle, his strong uncle who was never phased by anything, he watched the tears stream down his face, co-existing with the brave smile he tried to comfort Carole with.

Bradley had not noticed his own tears until he cleared his throat, repressed another lump that threatened to choke him, and he asked with a voice close to a whisper;

“So what happens now?”

…

Everything became blurry and fuzzy after that. Carole quit her brand new job after having officially worked there for 2 days. Bradley knew how disappointed she was, remembering how high in the clouds she had been that day when he came home from school and she had thrown herself around his shoulders, hugging him and crying “I got the job, Bradley! I got it!”

“It happens. Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want.” she had said and tried to reassure him. Her smile was always genuine, but Bradley could read his mother just as well as he read his uncle. She was disappointed beyond words.

Their life became a routine of doctor visits, cancer treatments, his mother resting, Bradley going to school and pretending everything was fine, hearing people call him “strong” and telling him how well he handled the situation. Bradley felt neither strong nor that he was handling it very well at all. Acting normal everyday while at the same time feeling like your whole being is being torn apart was an odd sensation, but he was fine .

The treatments were known for causing hair loss, which was something Carole dreaded. Sometimes Bradley wondered if she dreaded the thought of losing her hair more than the cancer itself. She bought a platinum blonde wig that matched her own hairstyle, just in case. Carole never got the chance to use it as her blonde hair remained on her head, if not getting just a bit thinner. The wig was passed around for fun, even Ice gave it a test run. Seeing Tom “Iceman” Kazansky with a platinum blonde wig had made both Carole and Bradley cry heartily with laughter.

“It looks better on you than me!” Carole had joked, lying on the couch with a blanket across her legs, pillows propping her up. The wig had quickly left Ice’s head once Bradley had tried taking a photo of him, using his dad’s old camera.

“Oh come on, Uncle Ice! I gotta show Mav that you tried it on.”

“No way, kid! It stays our secret.”

The wig ended up in one of the many boxes of scattered things. Carole didn’t want to get rid of it.

“It was an expensive wig, Pete. Maybe you can give it to someone else who needs it.” She had said. Bradley can’t remember where the wig ended up after they moved years later.

As time passed, Bradley watched his mother wither away. The treatments didn’t help and soon they stopped completely. The reality of the situation was slowly setting in, but Carole remained her cheerful chipper self. Joking around and spending as much time with Bradley whenever she had the energy. She grew thinner and weaker and had to be helped when  moving around the house. Bradley remembered hugging her and it felt like hugging a stranger, and yet it was his mom. She was so small and thin, or maybe he had grown taller and bulkier. He wasn’t sure, but it scared him.

He remembered sitting beside her on her bed, her hand resting in his hand and her head on his shoulder. Bradley had studied his mother’s hand, it looked so strange, but yet it was the same hand that had caressed his cheek and wiped his tears for as long as he could remember. It didn’t look the same, but it felt the same. It was still his mother’s hand.

He could recall him and Uncle Mav sitting together on the couch in the living room, talking about the future. Bradley knew she was going to die. He wasn’t sure he had truly accepted it yet, but at least he could prepare for it, he thought. Mav suddenly bursting into tears beside him had caught him by surprise.

“Uncle Mav... ?” Bradley had asked, gently. Mav had only cried that one time in the hospital. His uncle had whimpered out a pathetic chuckle between his sobs. He gestured his head towards the fireplace and the small crude wooden figure sitting at the top of the mantel.

Carole had made the wooden figure a few years before, and she was so proud of it no matter how crude it looked. It was just thick twigs put together with small nails to form a strange little man with wobbly limbs. She also made a top hat for it. She was so proud of it she had placed it so everyone could see.

Bradley looked at it for the first time in years, and he felt tears press against his eyes.

“I think, after she’s gone, we have to put him somewhere else.” Uncle Mav had said with a strained voice and Bradley had agreed. Looking at the crude wooden man was for some reason a painful reminder. They sat together and cried for a short while after that.

A year had soon passed and Carole couldn’t keep herself upright anymore. It didn’t take long before she was admitted to the hospital. Uncle Mav spent most of his time with Carole at the hospital while Bradley was at home. He had told his uncle it was fine, his mom needed him more right now. He wasn’t used to being home alone for a longer period of time, but he spent his time studying for his driver’s test and watching tv. His friends would occasionally visit, and Mav came by almost everyday to shower and check on him, but he didn’t stay long.

Being at the hospital made Bradley feel uneasy and uncomfortable. Seeing his mother barely lucid in a hospital bed, barely a whisper of the woman he had grown up with, made his stomach churn. Uncle Mav understood and didn’t press him about not being there too often.

One time he did visit her, she was lucid enough to talk to him. Her voice was so weak he had to strain to hear it and he fought the hardest he had ever done in his life to keep his tears at bay. He’d been holding her hand the entire time, a limp weak hand but still warm and still the hand of his mother. Uncle Mav and Uncle Ice were also there, but Bradley couldn’t recall what they talked about or what they were doing. He heard Mav say it was time to go, and Bradley got up from his seat and gave his mother a hug. The gentlest hug he could ever give her, afraid he’d break her. He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, mom. I love you so much.”

It was the last time he saw her alive.

A few nights later, Bradley woke up to Mav rousing him gently in the middle of the night. He was sleeping in his mother’s bed, which he had been doing since she was admitted to the hospital.

“She’s passed on.” Mav said gently. He was sitting on the side of the bed, his warm comforting hand resting on Bradley’s arm. He couldn’t see his Uncle’s face properly in the dim light from the night stand. Bradley was silent for several minutes, in his mind he kept repeating, Are you sure? just in case maybe there was a mistake. Maybe she wasn’t gone.

But she was.

Bradley nodded, he couldn’t remember what he answered.

“Go back to sleep, bud. I’ll come back in the morning.” Mav had said and gave him a hug, and Bradley had done as his uncle suggested.

Bradley doesn’t remember anything in the week that goes by, between his uncle waking him up in the middle of the night to tell him his mother had passed away, to the moment he’s walking up the church aisle and sees the coffin decorated with flowers and wreaths and heartfelt messages embroidered into ribbons from family and friends. There’s a wreath there with his friends' names on it. He stares at it for a moment before sitting down beside his uncle. Uncle Ice is sitting beside Mav in the other direction. He can’t remember who else was there, but he does remember the church being filled with people. Everyone always liked Carole, same with his father.

Next thing he remembers, he’s standing next to Mav as Carole’s coffin is being lowered into the ground. Watching it disappear into the earth, taking his mother with it and away from him. He remembers his mother laying in her bed a month ago, staring at him and his uncle with gentle, tired eyes.

“When I’m gone, you can do with my body as you wish. My soul won’t be there anymore, it won’t be me.” She had said, and Bradley knew she was trying to comfort him. Yet the lump in his throat was still there.

The body of his mother was in that coffin. The same body that had held him when he was born, held him when his father passed, held him and comforted him whenever he was sad or just needed his mother to be near. He remembers every little detail about it, the way her face wrinkled when she smiled, her blonde hair that she was so scared of losing, the tattoo on her ankle. The details of her skin on her hands. The weight of her head resting on his shoulder.

His mother, his greatest comfort in life, his rock, had been taken away from him. He felt like a lost little boy as he stood there among his family and friends. Alienated from the world around him, watching his mother disappear forever. He remembered that time when he was six and Carole had taken him to the grocery store. Being distracted he had wandered away from her and suddenly found himself alone in a big scary world with unfamiliar faces and without her hand to lead him. He was so stricken with fear he couldn’t move. Then he had heard her voice call his name and she appeared between the unfamiliar voids. Like a beacon of warmth and safety.

She wouldn’t find him this time.

The coffin was completely out of sight and people started approaching Bradley and his uncle, wanting to offer their condolences. He shook hands and hugged people he recognized and some he didn’t. He didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying, until he noticed his best friend standing beside him.

Without hesitation, they hugged each other and Bradley found himself sobbing uncontrollably into the shoulder of his friend.

Uncle Ice hugged him next. A tight, embracing and comforting hug. He’d always thought that Ice gives good hugs despite not being a typical touchy-feely person. Ice had never declined Bradley when he needed that comfort, always meeting the younger boy with open arms.

“If you ever need anything, kid. I’m here for you. We all are.” Ice had said, Bradley had nodded and said thanks. He knew Ice meant the other pilots with “we all are”.

Mav appeared next and they stared at each other for a moment as Mav placed a hand on his back, the protective parent kind of gesture. Bradley was taller than Mav now, but his uncle and godfather still gave the best hugs. Besides his mom, of course.

Bradley noticed the red tint and puffy skin on his uncle’s face, and the lazily tucked away tissue hanging out of his suit pocket. He knew Mav and his mother were close. They had never been romantically close, but they had almost been like brother and sister the same way Mav and Bradley’s father had been like brothers. Family, not by blood, but still a family. His friend had once called them “platonic soulmates” when Bradley had denied that his uncle and mom were dating. He felt it fit.

After his dad died, Bradley and Carole had been all that Mav had left and he had been there every step of the way. Holding both their hands through Goose’s funeral, that Bradley couldn’t really remember, through Bradley’s childhood and when Carole became sick. Mav had held her hand the entire way, carried her when she couldn’t walk anymore. Spent the nights at the hospital until Carole had taken her last breath. Now he was holding Bradley’s hand.

They didn’t say anything to each other, they didn’t need to. They both knew they had each other. A boy without parents and a lonely man who loved his godson more than he could ever comprehend.

They never did take down or remove the crude wooden figure, not until they moved.

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #writing #fanfic #forsty fic #LOOK THERE IT IS #it's very sad and i apologize #and yes its based on personal experience BUT IM FINE

[butchered-icarian]

oh red. there’s one that immediately started calling my name: bradley bradshaw heartbreak weather

Also known as the one where I accidentally kinning Bradley Bradshaw way too much to the point it makes the thing a bitch to write but if I manage to go through I know it's going to be my magnum opus in this fandom (do Not hold onto my words for this)

Running a background for this work: Nina wants a fic with Heartbreak Weather by Niall Horan as theme; I want a character study for Rooster because I've always found him hard to nail down correctly (to me) and Forsty's brilliant brain and skillful hands birthed into this world an art of Death personified under the face of Bradley Bradshaw.

Here you go, hopefully my son will see the sun soon.

Surviving is great work, while existing is exhaustion on another level. Sometimes Bradley just wants to be put on the ground, never to wake up again - the thought of finally being with his parents, together at last, in one place, has always been tempting (in theory, he tends to beat himself up mentally whenever the thought occurred, in theory, you dumbass) People come and people go, this he understands. It still makes him feel restless every time he dares to think he might have a chance of happiness with somebody only for them to end up leaving - that does rile him up as he could feel whichever part of the rattled faith he has left slipping away, out of his reach. Bit by bit, cracking and discharging into sand and molecules, running between his fingers like water.

#tag game #perishablealex #croissant rambles

[thebahwrites]

Yes, it's you I welcome death with As the world, as the world caves in

INTERLUDE: ROOSTER

killshot. - (on ao3)  

“Hey there, Pretty Boy.” Bradley manages to get the words unstuck from the back of his throat.

“Don’t break a nail coming down here, darling, maybe wait for an actual man to show up.”

(Hangman’s just fine.)

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

Maybe it is a little childish of him but isn’t that just what they always do?

INTERLUDE — HANGMAN ‖ PHOENIX ‖ MAVERICK  ‖ CYCLONE ‖ ICEMAN  ��� BOB

#bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #hangman x rooster #hangster #sereshaw #top gun fanfic #tgm fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #abt: killshot #my edits #abt: my writing #//okay we're done now #//it's almost 6am i stayed up editing and posting #//forsty and nate are gonna absolutely WRECK my ass #//but it was worth it #//popped off bye i love y'all hope this ruins your weekend #mwah mwah mwah

[letsboo-boo]

whatcha up to tag game!

Tagged by my beloveds @thebahwrites @forsty & @jakeseresins 🥹🥹🥹 if you hear sobbing, it's me crying over people thinking of me for these silly games

Currently reading: I'm finally starting on The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman. As for fics, obviously leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream by @floydsin

Last Song: (George Harrison best Beatle)

Last Movie: Surf's Up (I was gonna save this for tomorrow so I could say Phanton: The Musical, but I don't know if recorded musicals count as movies, so)

Currently working on: Two essays for irl stuff. Haven't touched any of my fics in weeks, but let's say (take me) home for the holidays for the sake of it (I swear that thing's gonna end up being a Christmas in July fic)

No pressure tags: I always feel weird tagging people, so whoever wants to 💕

#tag game #Spotify

[disappearinginq]

Would you ever write anything for "Top Gun Maverick"?

YES - not that I have any idea what, except a possible self insert so I could introdouce ya'll to my Navy Alter Ego, because pilots were always my buddies. One, they were my age, and two, because they found something charming about my innate sense of menace.

or something based off of Forsty's artwork, because those are fantastic. and there's one where Mav is having a flashback of cradling Goose's dead body after their crash in the first movie while holding Rooster after they go down in Undisclosed Snowy Country That We All Fucking Know is Russia. I could do a fic off that. Or something similar.

#games we play #would I write about being on the aircraft carrier you see in the film? #absolutely because that is my boat #I even know exactly where he's standing #I even recognized some Navy guys and gals from the credits #asks answered #top gun maverick

[redfurrycat]

👻✨👼Ghoost & Ethereal Beings Fic Recs👼✨👻

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Abliafina, Attolians, Bavarian_angel, Boasamishipper, Comin2U, Cristinuke, Dalearden, Iimpossible_things, Immature_vibes, JuliaBaggins, MyNameIsConnor, Nikkyrow, Sal_paradise, Theinsouciantknitter, Vaelsworld, WeTheWriters.

> Mythological Creatures & Shapeshifters {🤠🐓}

‼️Art Bonus, aka the reason this recs list even exists‼️ Forsty Art ==> Mav, Rooster & Ghoost – Mav & Ghoost – Rooster & Ghoost – Rooster & Ghost!Carole –  Rooster & Ghoost.

Lead Me On (To The Other Side), part of the Beyond Series, by boasamishipper {T}

/Ghoost/

Goose talked to him most nights. His choice of conversation was normal — movies he’d seen, music he liked, stories about his wife and son — and sometimes Ice almost forgot that Goose was dead at all.

I Can See Our Future by Nikkyrow {T}

/Ghoost/

The ability to know what others were going to do before even they did made Jake "Hangman" Seresin a really good pilot. Made him an unbridled asshole too. He follows the rules, don’t tell the future, don’t change the future, don’t let people know you see the future…until he doesn’t. As the mission grows closer and who won't come home becomes clearer to the psychic, Hangman learns to navigate the line between natural and paranormal with varying success.

no sanctuary (when my eyes close) by attolians {T}

/Ghosts/

“You coming tonight?” “Of course,” Jake’s mouth says before he can catch up. “Wouldn’t miss it.” “Sounds good.” Rooster smiles after another second, “I’m gonna shower but I’ll see you later.” “Yup.” Rooster takes a few steps closer to the showers before meeting Jake’s eyes in the mirror again. “And, uh, thanks for the help up there.” Jake nods. He can’t answer with the ghost filling the other side of the mirror. ... or, everything's the same - but Jake can see ghosts

Guardian Goose by Comin2U {T}

/Guardian Angel!Goose/

Goose didn't mean to stick around when he died. But here he was, attached to 3 people and still yelling at Mav 30 years later. aka Guardian Angel Goose is tied to Iceman, Maverick, and Bradley and proceeds to spend 30 years yelling at all of them for being idiots in some fashion. Though only 1 of them can see him

I heard from the heavens... by JuliaBaggins {T}

/Gooserole & Icemav in Heavens/

Yes, Mav dies. BUT. The story is not as angsty as this now sounds, really not, I promise! There's lots of fluff, and a happy ending! Maverick wakes up in the afterlife after dying from old age. There he meets Goose & Carole again - cue lots of family feels. And Mav might even get a chance to finally figure things out with a certain fellow pilot he's been dreaming of kissing for more than forty years...

Guardian Angel by vaelsworld {G}

/Ghost!Ice/

Attending his own funeral was never on Ice's plan for his life. But here he is, Maverick next to him sobbing, and Ice can't leave him. Not again. Before Ice leaves this world once and for all, he'll make sure that Maverick will be okay.

If I could then I would throw this lifeless lifeline to the wind by sal_paradise {G}

/Ghoost/

After Mav crashes trying to save Rooster, when awakes he sees someone he never thought he's see again. His RIO is not as far away as he thought.

The Ghosts On The Shore by immature_vibes {T}

/Ghost!Icemav/

Thomas Kazansky died on a Thursday at 3:34 AM, his husband Pete Mitchell following him at the end of the month. There house was left to be rented out to Californian tourists, and was rented out by a group of seven aviators who were on a two month long vacation after a taxing suicide mission. Jake Seresin has had too many head injuries to count, so when he wakes up one morning and heads downstairs to see a man who was definitely not a part of their squadron sitting in the living room, he's certain that his brain has officially had too much damage.

If I can't be close to you by WeTheWriters {M}

/Ghost!Rooster/

“Did you just call me, Bradley?” Are the first words out of his mouth, that lost look in his eye that bothered Jake more than it probably should, quickly morphing into one of amused curiosity. “Why, did you change your name?” Jake smirks, immediately slipping into the familiarity of their usual back and forth, if a touch more amicable now, after everything they’ve been through. “Nope.” Bradley screws up his face, squinting up at the sky through his fingers like it surprises him to find it there. “Then it looks like I did.” Jake shakes his head, sort of amused too. “Now, at the risk of sounding like I’m not happy to see you, what the hell are you doing here? I thought they’ll be keeping you on lockdown for the rest of the leave at least, with how freaked out everyone on the carrier was when we landed.” ~ Jake doesn't make it in time to save Bradley and Mav in the end. He's a second too late. The missile is faster, and Jake can't come to terms with that, his mind rejecting the reality that robbed him of so much. So Bradley conjures one last miracle - 7 days of borrowed time to make peace with it. 7 days to make up for the entire future they lost. 7 days to say goodbye.

In These Arms Tonight by bavarian_angel {M}

/Mav's Ghost!Family/

They say "meet you in the afterlife"... Maverick goes through 5 encounters over time before he is finally welcomed home.

I’ve been going out among the ghosts by iimpossible_things {T}

/Ghoost/

The problem with tequila is: it doesn't mix well with dead people...and Jake's ability to tell them apart from the living. Which is how he ends up being haunted by Nick Bradshaw, the somewhat-friendly ghost.

I can't leave him. by MyNameIsConnor {G}

/Ghoost/

It's Goose's funeral. Mav thought that he could brave it, Carole on his right and Bradley curled up in his arms. He knew the others were watching, Viper and Jester at his left and the thought he could stay strong. A sob escaped him and he fell to his knees, harsh crys the only sound being let out.

Matchmaker(s), Matchmaker(s) by Cristinuke {T}

/Ghoost & Ghost!Ice/

Ice and Goose are dead, but they're still tethered to the living, specifically to Maverick. It's up to them to figure out how to close their unfinished business, and why it might include a certain admiral.

A Bridge That I Cannot Follow by theinsouciantknitter {G}

/Ghost!Carole/

The first time Jake sees her is fleeting. She's standing at the end of the hallway by their bedroom door, looking around sadly. Jake startles at the wispy woman standing in his house and then he blinks and she's gone.

Raggedy Top Gun Manor by abliafina {G}

/Ghost!Charlie/

It is said that room 86 became haunted after Nurse Charlie died in there. She worked at the Top Gun Manor - a retirement home for naval aviators - until she laid down for a nap one day and never woke up. The Manor closed down after too many reports of bumps in the night and opened up again as a haunted house. Iceman never believed a word of it. Ghosts aren't real. Maverick, on the other hand, takes their jobs as tour guides way too seriously and it might bring them closer together than what anyone expected.

One Look From Your Eyes (And I'm Captivated) by dalearden {_}

/Ghoost/

"There’s a hand on his arm that he should not be able to feel. He thinks if he has to feel it, it should be cold. Nick Bradshaw is warm to the touch though, of course he is, even when he shouldn’t be able to touch anything or anyone because he’s fucking dead and Jake Seresin is not... can’t be…" Or, Jake lingers some place between life and death after a training accident and ghosts are, it turns out, ridiculous goofballs who like to matchmake.

#Ghoost & Ethereal Beings Recs List #bradley rooster bradshaw #carole bradshaw #nick goose bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈