antelopeace

nya // she/her // no brain, only top gun (on rare occasions other things too)

[tgmsunmontue]

Love is only a feeling - 3/? WIP

In which Jake and Bradley fall into a relationship together and keep being in a relationship because they both refuse to talk about it.

PART ONE PART TWO

-----------------------

PART THREE

                Jake feels good. Better than good. He still doesn’t remember exactly what happened last night, but he’s not arguing with the end result. However, he definitely needs to bring Javy up to speed on his change in circumstances. He knocks on Javy’s door and keeps going until he hears an exasperated yell of: I’m coming, for fuck’s sake Jake! a few seconds before the door opens.

                “Good morning!”

                “You’re in a good mood…”

                “Yep,” Jake grins, pushing past him and throwing himself onto the sofa, tucking his hands behind his head.

                “Figured you’d have a hangover, but of course you just slept it off. Fucker.”

                “Oh, I woke up and I was definitely hungover, just took some painkillers, drank a tall glass of water and then joined Rooster back in bed.”

                He grins at the ceiling and waits with bated breath for Javy to process what he just said.

                “You… what the fuck? You slept with Rooster?”

                “Yep,” he pops the p with relish, delighted.

                “Wha – How?”

                “Not only did I wake up in his bed, but I just dropped him off to have lunch with Phoenix and I drove his shitty Honda Civic here… I’m seeing him again later.”

                Hmm. He and Bradshaw hadn’t actually talked about that, but he assumes that they are. He has Bradshaw’s car and keys after all. Actually, Jake has his keys to his housing too, which means Bradshaw is effectively locked out until Jake turns up to let him in, or simply goes and lets himself in. Hmm. There’s a thought.

                “That still doesn’t answer the how of it all…” Javy mutters and he looks stunned. Jake shrugs, because to be honest he doesn’t really understand or remember the how of it either, but he doesn’t need to to appreciate the outcome. “What the fuck happened? Did you fuck him?”

                “No. We didn’t, like, do anal. Hell… he’s still recovering Javy, and I don’t know if I would have even been able to get it up with how much I drank last night. But… I woke up in his bed, wearing his underwear, and only his underwear, and my lips felt like they’d been making out with a grater. So. Most we did was maybe hand jobs.”

                “You know, I love how open you are about your sex life. But sometimes I wish you really really weren’t.”

                “You love it.”

                “Correction, I used to encourage you to talk about it so you’d get over your hang ups. You’ve kind of over corrected.”

                “Eh. You know me. I’m going to do everything the best I can.” Javy rolls his eyes and Jake laughs. “But my money is just on making out. We made out plenty this morning, and I made a joke about calling him babe in front of Phoenix and he didn’t even do a double take…”

                “Were you trying to make him react, push the boundaries?”

                “He called me Jake.”

                “What the fuck?”

                “Eh. I called him Bradley. We’re both going to take some getting used to that. But I was bossing him around and rather than snap my head off he just… let me.”

                “Uh…”

                “Not in bed you pervert…” Jake laughs, but then he thinks about it, bossing Bradley around in bed and he feels a flash of arousal at the thought. “Although…”

                “I don’t want to hear it!”

                “I’m going to go to the store, grab some food. Make him dinner.”

                “You’re going to cook for him?”

                “You know I can cook.”

                “Yeah. I also know you don’t particularly like it very much.”

                “Eh. I like it when it’s an appreciative audience. Or serving a purpose.”

                “Hey! I’m always willing to be your audience when you cook! And feeding me is a purpose!”

                “You already love me. Not trying to impress you.”

                Javy sighs then, like he knows he’s beat.

                “Save me the leftovers?”

                “Sure. I’ll make double. You know what other perk this new thing with Rooster has?”

                “What?” Javy asks carefully, like he fully expects Jake to drop lore about Rooster’s dick or something else he’d claim would scar him mentally.

                “Phoenix is so weirded out by us being together. I think I saw the vein on her forehead throbbing.”

                “If you want to keep Rooster happy you’re going to want to stop antagonizing his best friend.”

                “Ugh, you spoil all my fun. You may have a point though.”

                “I definitely have a point, but if you managed to stop bothering Rooster long enough to somehow start a relationship with him then hell probably has frozen over… Guess Phoenix’ll be easy after that.”

                “Nah, I can’t give her orgasms when she agrees with me. However, I’m hoping the fact I was forcing Rooster to use his crutches makes her tolerate me a little bit more.”

                “You were telling Rooster to use his crutches?”

                “Yep. He sulked about it, but he did it. Knew I was right,” Jake says with a smug grin.

                “Wow. Hell has frozen over.”

                “Fuck off. You coming to the store or not?”

                “Yeah yeah, fine.”

…            …            …

                Javy continues to give him a running commentary of his innermost thoughts as they walk through the aisles, reminding Jake how long he’s had a low-grade crush on Rooster. Jake doesn’t need to be reminded, he still has a crush, it’s just morphed into something more than a low grade now, fed by the fact that he’s kissed Rooster, slept beside him, woken up beside him, showered with him… most importantly Bradshaw has done exactly the same. Jake really wishes he remembered what they must have said last night. After dropping Javy back he swings by his place and grabs a couple of critical items, including a change of clothes.

                Jake sends Bradley a heads up, just to let him know Jake is using his keys to put away groceries. Gets a reply saying Phoenix is going to drop him off later, Jake presses for a time, just a rough ETA and gets one. He gets one and he decides to do Bradshaw’s washing and change his sheets. Only fair considering Jake slept there last night as well. Would maybe like to sleep there again, soon. Ensuring Bradshaw is in a good mood will make that much more likely to happen.

                After putting away the groceries he does a couple loads of washing, followed by some basic cleaning. He hopes that Bradshaw’s current level of cleanliness is because he’s been resting and not because he lives in an unacceptable level of squalor. Then again, maybe he just relaxes when he’s at home. It’s not something Jake would kick him out of bed over. He does the prep for dinner, mentally plans future meals because Bradshaw has been living off takeout if the contents of his fridge are any indication. Jake finds himself kind of glad, because it means Rooster hasn’t been standing around cooking.

                He remakes the bed with clean sheets, shaves and showers and dresses in completely fresh clothes, then settles in to wait for Rooster, no, Bradley, to get back.

To Be Continued...

[tgmsunmontue]

Love is only a feeling - 2/? WIP

In which Jake and Bradley fall into a relationship together and keep being in a relationship because they both refuse to talk about it.

PART ONE

-----------------------

PART TWO

                His head feels almost completely normal, the Tylenol and water clearly having done some serious heavy lifting, along with the shower and Bradshaw’s body pressed against him blowing away all other ill feelings. He figures he’s given Rooster enough time to have his little freakout about them hooking up, and the way he’d kissed Jake back had given him every indication that he’s more than happy with continuing whatever it is they have started. He rifles through Bradshaw’s drawers, finds a pair of sweats and pulls them on, mutters about Bradshaw’s stupidly long legs and then stops. Grins to himself. Those long legs are his to ogle at now. Openly ogle rather than surreptitiously ogle. It puts him in an even better mood as he heads to the kitchen, lured by the smell of coffee.

                Seeing the bruises blooming across Rooster’s skin, barely hidden by the almost see-through tank, makes him realize that they probably didn’t do anything more than make out last night. If he remembers rightly Bradshaw has a sprained ankle and wrist, along with bruised ribs and a minor concussion. How he didn’t actually break anything is nothing short of a miracle, but those were apparently numerous during the uranium mission. He’s grateful that everyone lived, can’t imagine how bad his nightmares would be if someone had actually died. Again.

                As he makes them both coffee he licks over his lips, they still feel a little warm and swollen, wonders if he and Bradley actually managed any talking last night. About anything. Or if they just made out a lot. And he needs to try and remember to call him Bradley when they’re like this. At home. He knows he’s going to slip up, call him Rooster or Bradshaw, but the fact he’s standing barefoot in his kitchen, wearing his stupid jorts and threadbare tank, staring at the toaster likes he’s willing it to go faster. Jake is pretty sure Bradshaw is blushing.

                “I’m having lunch with Natasha. Did you, uh, want to come?” Bradley asks, and it’s like he’s not sure if he even wants Jake there himself. However, a lunch date with Phoenix as a third wheel is not the way to go, especially not for what is probably, technically, their first date.

                “Are you meant to be driving with your ankle like it is?” Jake asks shrewdly.

                “It’s fine,” Bradley mumbles and Jake shakes his head, eyes darting around until he spies the crutches shoved in the corner.

                “You’re definitely not meant to be driving,” he guesses. “Or even walking on it I bet. Stubborn ass,” Jake says, but he smiles as he says it, brushes a kiss to Rooster’s bare shoulder as he slips past to put their mugs on the table. He turns to find Bradley staring at him and he raises an eyebrow. “What?”

                “Uh. So…”

                “Sit the fuck down Rooster. Put your foot up. You’re doing a shit job of resting it.” Rooster blinks at him, but then he’s smiling ever so slightly and inclining his head, shuffling over and sitting down, putting his foot up on one of the chairs. “What time are you meant to be meeting Phoenix?”

                “Uh, in about an hour. Kind of slept in a bit.”

                Jake smirks at him, can imagine exactly why they both slept in. Damn it feels good to actually have had some decent sleep.

                “Good to know we can easily sleep in the same bed and get a good night’s rest.” The toaster has popped up two pieces and he finds a plate, notices the bottle of what look like prescription pain killers. He frowns, Rooster should definitely not be walking or driving. Dumbass. “You need to eat this toast so you can take your meds?” Jake asks, although he suspects he’s asking a fairly rhetorical question all things considered.

                “Uh, yeah. There’s some peanut butter in –”

                “I got you Bradley,” Jake says, and the name feels unfamiliar in his mouth and sounds strange to his ears, judging from the look on Bradley’s face he feels the same but he’s nothing if not just as stubborn. They’ll get used to it. He finds the peanut butter and covers the two pieces, steps over to the table and slides the plate to Bradley along with the bottle of pills. He gets them both large glasses of water before settling down in the chair opposite, taking a sip of his coffee and grateful that it’s cooled enough he can take large sips.

                “Uh. Thanks Jake.” It sounds just as stilted and he’s glad he’s not the only one struggling a little, smiles at him and nods his head.

                “You’re welcome.”

                They sit there in silence, just kind of staring at each other and it would feel awkward but instead it just kind of feels amusing, they just keep staring and smiling at each other like neither of them can believe where they are, quietly just drinking their coffee. He doesn’t want to say anything that might break the peace, is enjoying this in all its weirdness and newness. Being allowed to just openly look. Admire. Maybe he can finally ask Bradshaw about how he got his scars. The beeping of what sounds like a washing machine goes off.

                “I, uh, did your washing. It’s probably dry now.”

                Irritation flares through him, surprising him with its intensity.

                “Bradshaw! What the fuck. Why?”

                “What did you expect me to do?”

                “Leave me to do it! You need to stay off your fucking ankle. Bet you didn’t use your damn crutches!”

                “Oh my god, you’re worse than Penny!”

                “Penny is a very smart woman. And I’m a very smart man. You ain’t going to heal if you don’t take it easy.”

                “Fine,” Rooster huffs and Jake feels a thrill go through him, surprised at the easy acquiescence. He could get used to this. He leans over the tiny table to capture Bradley’s mouth with his own, licks over lips that taste of peanut and coffee, hums happily as his cock twitches with interest and he pulls back with reluctance.

                “You wanna be on time you better get a wriggle on. I’ll drive, and you are going to use your fucking crutches. Also you better change into something otherwise Phoenix won’t be seen in public with you…” Jake states, although he’s already become quite fond of the tank, is wondering if he sucked on Bradshaw’s nipples through the fabric it would go even more see-through. An activity for later, once Bradshaw is all healed up. He goes and gets said crutches and shoves them in Bradshaw’s direction, staring at him pointedly until he takes them from Jake will ill grace. He laughs and throws him a wink, heads for the laundry to get his own clothes out.

                His jeans are still a little damp, but his briefs and t-shirt are dry enough, as are his socks and he realizes a little belatedly that he must have been sleeping in Bradley’s underwear. Well then. That’s pretty damning evidence. He unhooks the keys off the wall, knows Bradshaw doesn’t have hangups about people driving his shitty second-hand Honda civic that he brought to shuttle himself around base in something that doesn’t cost a kidney each time he needs to fill it up.

                Bradshaw is standing at the door, not much changed except he’s pulled on a floral short-sleeve button-down on, along with a moonboot and Jake gives him the stink-eye pointedly. Such a dumbass. The drive is quick and painless and it’s smack between the peak breakfast and lunch times, and there’s an empty space right outside the café-diner Bradley is meeting Phoenix.

                “Here, give me your phone.”

                “Uh. Why?”

                “I’m going to put my number in.”

                Bradley unlocks it before handing it over like he half expects Jake to toss it out the window, and he quickly types in his number and calls himself, before adding himself as a contact with a grin, adding a few emojis for good measure. Hopes they’ll make Bradley smile later when he sees them. Then there’s a knock on the window and he turns to find Phoenix staring at him. Glaring even. He grins back, gives her his best shit-eating grin he can because he knows it’ll annoy her to no end. He undoes his seatbelt and quickly goes around to help Bradley out, even though he doubts Bradley needs it he can hold the crutches at least.

                “Bagman.”

                “Phoenix.”

                “What are you doing here?”

                “Just dropping Bradley of for your lunch date. He shouldn’t be driving on his ankle you know.”

                She frowns at him, looks over to where Bradshaw is watching them with wide, slightly worried looking, eyes. Jake gives him a wink and hands him the crutches, hopes his expression conveys to Bradshaw that he expects him to fucking use them.

                “Since when do you call him Bradley?”

                “Would you prefer me to call him babe?”

                “What the fuck?” she hisses. “You’re serious right now?”

                “Deadly. I’ll leave you two to it. Let me know if Phoenix can’t drop you back and I’ll come pick you up.”

                “What the fuck?” she repeats, and Jake quite likes this whole shock factor thing they have going on. Supposes he better bite the bullet and let Javy know what’s up before he hears it through the grapevine.

…            …            …

                “I left you alone for twenty-four hours and you’ve somehow shacked up with Bagman?”

                “Uh. Yes?” Bradley offers, because it definitely feels and looks that way, even if he’s not quite sure how they got to this point. Several vital steps feel like they’ve been jumped, skipped or simply obliterated completely. But it’s also been weirdly nice, and sweet; Hangman is still himself, but he’s only calling Bradley out on stuff Bradley knows he’s being a bit stupid about. Like not using his crutches. He seems to care, and for some sudden reason doesn’t seem to mind Bradley knowing or seeing that he cares. As weird as it’s been, he doesn’t want to rock the boat.

                “Yes? That’s all you have to say for yourself? Yes?”

                “Uh. I don’t know what else to tell you? We just…” he scratches his head, crutch banging his side as it dangles from his arm. “We’re together I think?”

                “You think? You… don’t know?”

                “Uh. All signs point to yes?” Bradley offers and she stares at him like he’s lost his mind. Maybe he has. Kind of feels like it, a little.

                “Yes you’re together, or yes you don’t know?” Natasha demands and he grimaces.

                “Uh. Yeah. I’m… yeah. I think so. Yes.”

                “Oh my god. I have to hear this.”

PART THREE

[handheldrope]

so those long deployments huh

[m4lotov]

hanging out with people is so scary what do i do im actually so upset

[laswells-ashtray]

Their relationship is still pretty fresh, so, Maverick finds himself unprepared for the hellscape he wakes up to. If he is hungover, Iceman's half dead.

The other pilot looks it, the pallor of his skin and the way his hands shake. He listened to Ice, graceful, dignified Ice, spend the last two hours vomiting everything he's touched in the past day, including the water he was drinking to try and sober up.

Quite frankly, Pete doesn't know what to do. Nick is usually his designated hungover babysitter, but he doubts Nick's "quit your whining, honey, I warned you to leave the shots alone," method will work on Iceman. So, with great reluctance and a slight feeling of nausea, he pulls out the big guns.

"Slider?"

"Mav? Why the fuck are you calling me?"

"Ice is hungover, and any time I try to help, he tells me to fuck off."

"God damn it, give me ten minutes and unlock your front door."

When Slider shows up, he does something Mav didn't think he was capable of. He walks around quietly and refrains from making any dickheaded remarks. A quick glance out of the window tells Mav that pigs aren't flying.

It feels voyeuristic, watching the RIO in action as he enters the bedroom with a plastic bag in hand and parks his ass next to Ice. Tom doesn't snap at him to piss off; the worst he does is grumble when Ron starts running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. He looks a little like a stray cat, a thought Pete has enough self-restraint not to voice.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I got you smokes, cherry Coke, and Cheez-Its. Talk nice to me, and I'll hand-feed you."

Slider, in Pete's professional opinion, might be an asshole but he's also the only man capable of getting Tom to lift his head and open his bleary eyes. Pete does not laugh at the infamous Iceman's weakness being Cheez-Its because that would be immature, instead he decided to tell Nick later and let his RIO laugh at it for the two of them.

"Wasn't sure what you drink, so you got a Coke and you can fucking like it, Mitchell."

Pete will attribute his reaction to his hangover, staring at Slider wide-eyed and mouth open like a goldfish. It hadn't crossed his mind that he'd be a part of the equation in Slider's hangover relief efforts.

"S'fine, thanks."

It occurs to Pete that for all he feels out of his depth, Ron never falters with Tom, propping him up and shoving a cold can into his hands. He never complains about any plans he might have had for the day that have been squandered; he doesn't wince when Tom nuzzles against his shoulder, sweaty and miserable.

Slider might annoy him more often than not, but Ron is going to become a familiar face in his life if he's serious about his relationship with Tom. At least Nick will have company; he complains enough about third wheeling as is.

[tenderhooked]

I WANT TO WRITE MY STORIES!!!!!!!!!!!! -> continues doing literally Anything Else besides writing

[gaypilotszone]

Imagine your son sends you pics of his first at Top Gun

then says this man is his pilot 😭😭😭

[rooster-soup]

carole: this is goose, my husband.

and this is maverick, my husband's boyfriend, and this is charlie, my husband's boyfriend's girlfriend, and this is iceman, my husband's boyfriend's boyfriend, and this is slider, my husband's boyfriend's boyfriend's boyfriend, and this is

[tgmsunmontue]

Best friends Hangster featuring bisexual Jake and gay Bradley - but they meet under DADT so this is not information they have shared with each other, plus Jake is happily married to his childhood sweetheart who is also in the Navy.

Jake's wife and Natasha are good friends, but Jake's wife dies (sorry OC!) and Jake is grieving, and NOT coping well, and becomes a little dangerous and reckless, and this is when he's taking unnecessary risks and gets his air-to-air kill, but also becomes more of an asshole. He was already good, but now that he doesn't care about his own safety he definitely toes the line regarding following orders. But he is the golden boy, so a lot gets overlooked.

Bradley acts in a form of self-preservation, he's been loving Jake from afar, knew he could never have him, so there is a screaming argument and then they part ways as now ex-best-friends and Natasha is walking this fine line between grieving her friend, being there for Jake and also Bradley. She manages it because most of the time the three of them are not deployed together...

Of course, Bradley didn't think this all the way through, sees and hears about Jake, and he MISSES him, but he just keeps tracking on. DADT is repealed, he has a few (doomed from the start) relationships, and he knows Natasha is still friends with Jake but he stubbornly refuses to ask her about him. Jake has no such qualms, regularly asks for updates and doesn't really understand why Bradley decided he no longer wanted to be friends with Jake. (Does Jake think that maybe Bradley had a thing for his wife? Yes. But he dismisses it as a stupid idea pretty quickly).

And then we start Top Gun Maverick with ex-best-friends Hangster, Bradley with what he believes is a long-term deep rooted love for Jake which part of him hates, all while he's dealing with Maverick being back in his life and dealing with A LOT of deeply buried emotions he's been ignoring for a LONG FUCKING TIME, all while facing the thought that he might die without having any resolution over any of it.

Jake, thinking Bradley and Natasha have maybe finally stopped doing the stupid will-they won't-they dance (because as much as Natasha has kept Jake informed about Bradley, she never outed him). But Javy and Bob start something, and they both separately inform Jake that Natasha and Bradley are definitely not together.

THEN - on the carrier, Bradley is chosen to fly and Jake is a little terrified because he and Bradley might not talk, but Natasha is going up as well, and Jake is being faced with the potential of losing BOTH of them. So Jake confronts Bradley, and Bradley grabs him and kisses him and Jake is SHOOK because WTF? He gets a hard, too dry hand job from Bradley, told by Bradley that HE LOVES HIM and Jake is just left reeling, untethered to reality.

Of course post mission there is more yelling, and making out and declarations. And Jake admits he has no idea if he can be a romantic partner to Bradley but they're talking and they of course do work through their shit and Natasha is just very fucking relieved.

[hangmanbradshaw]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @stars-of-nixie @ozonecologne @exhuastedpigeon @overwhelmed-alien @seekstrivefind @tgmsunmontue

wow i'm actually doing it on a Wednesday. Anyway, I'm a few days into my 9-day Colorado trip, then heading to STL once I get back home for hilary round 2...then then then lmao (the season of BUSY). BUT I am slowly tinkering away at fics at night and have been inspired as of late so! Here's a snippet from broadcaster in honor of baseball miles pics and some excitement again over it

Snippet:

She left him in the VIP suites to continue her busy night. Jake adjusted the Dodgers jersey over his tank as he slipped through the crowd and pulled out his phone. He toyed with the lanyard around his neck as the line rang.

“Jake?” Bradley picked up.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.” He leaned against the wall, nodding at someone he vaguely knew from an old Adidas campaign. “How’s it going?”

“Hold on.” The vague background noise that sounded so much like their Sunday evenings faded as Bradley stepped into a quieter hallway somewhere. He was likely alone because he admitted, “Shitting bricks, honestly.” His voice went smug. “Call to wish me good luck?”

“Something like that. Any chance your handlers will let you off-leash?”

“Uh.” He imagined Bradley checking the watch on his wrist. “I have like ten minutes maybe…” He paused. “Why’s it so loud? Where are you?”

“Trying to avoid Matt Stafford right now,” Jake answered, turning sideways to avoid his focus across the room. Nothing against him. He was simply working with limited time. “Did you know these lanyards they give you can get you almost anywhere except the broadcast booth? I tried, but turns out some people are immune to my charm, according to Rick the Elevator Dickhead.”

“You’re…no fucking way are you here.”

“Why don’t you go to VIP and find out?”

There was no response, but the line didn’t click, either. Bradley’s footsteps echoed over the phone, followed by a muffled conversation and an elevator ding. It took two minutes, but then Bradley was striding through the crowd with his phone pressed to his ear, looking around like a man on a mission. He froze mid-step when they locked eyes. Jake raised a hand.

Bradley beelined toward him. He stopped a foot away, blinking owlishly. “You’re here.”

“I am.” Jake smirked. “Wanna hang up now?”

“Right.” Bradley did, shoving his phone into his dress pants. He poked Jake in the shoulder like he was a scientist analyzing an alien lifeform.

“You okay there, Bradshaw? Or do I need to alert medical?”

Bradley shook the shock away, and then a slow, stupidly pretty smile formed. His scars glinted in the shitty suite lighting— in person, he looked good in that setting, at home against the white and blue jerseys and catered hot dogs. “I knew you’d get into baseball.”

“Keep dreaming.”

His grin only grew as he leaned against the wall beside him. “So you’re here for me.”

“It’s what partners do, right? Someone had to talk you off the pregame ledge. Knew Johnny boy wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

A hint of cockiness shifted onto his face. “Partners, huh?”

“Hey, Twitter was all a flurry after you weren’t with me in the booth Sunday. Had to give ‘em something new to go on about.”

“Mm, you do love to make people talk.”

“It is my job.”

They watched the crowded room for a moment, taking it in. Bradley’s phone buzzed several times in quick succession. He sighed. “They’ll probably string me up by my thumbs if I don’t get up there in time to get mic’ed up.” He looked around and flagged down a staff member passing by, offering his phone. “Hey, man, mind snapping a quick pic for us?”

“Sure, Mr. Bradshaw.” 

Jake didn’t bother commenting. He merely leaned into the arm Bradley threw over him with a smile. It was matched on Bradley’s face in the photo. There was no doubt it would be all over NBC’s official sports accounts within minutes of being posted.

Bradley pocketed his phone, preparing to head off and do his actual job. “Jake?” When Jake looked at him, Bradley gave him a soft, private smile. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’ve got this. Swing batta batta swing and all that shit.”

Bradley took a few steps backward toward the elevators. “Text me your seat number. I’ll find you after the game. You can come down to the field for the trophy presentation.”

Jake’s brow rose. “Thought that was credentialed press and family only?”

“Rick does like me.” Bradley winked, then turned on his heel. 

Jake waited until he was out of sight before he went to track down Matt and say hi.

No pressure tagging @prollybradshaw @mxrcusflint @tornadeoqueen

@welcometololaland @halestrom

[welcometololaland]

wasn't gonna do wip weds bc i recently decided i hate everything about my writing. but then i remembered that im weak for social pressure so thank u internet friends 💖 @sonnywrites @hangmanbradshaw @carlos-in-glasses @actuallylemon @ladyknight1512 @seekstrivefind @stars-of-nixie @decafdino @cha-melodius @theglitteringtrio @shealwaysreads @ozonecologne @exhuastedpigeon @tgmsunmontue @circledwithaheart i promise to circle back to all your posts shortly!!!!

“This is just a ruse to get me naked, isn’t it?” Bradley retorts, but as soon as Jake strips him of his shirt and pushes him under the warm spray, he groans with relief. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Could have this every day if you move in,” Jake says, crowding against Bradley’s back and hooking his chin over Bradley’s shoulder. He says it like it’s something Bradley isn’t already accustomed to—the shared showers part of their daily routine—but perhaps he’s forgotten in the intervening days.

“Hell of an incentive,” Bradley hums, head tipped back, exposing his throat to Jake’s lips. Then, as if it’s not going to make Jake’s lifeless heart sing, he murmurs, “I missed you, you know.”

“‘Course you did,” Jake mumbles, mouth pressed into Bradshaw’s slick, wet skin. He doesn’t know how to reciprocate the words, but he hopes the passage of his lips and hands can do the talking instead.

Bradley snorts. “Humble as always.”

“I know how to treat you right.”

Bradley reaches for the shampoo, passing it over his shoulder. “Go on, then. Prove it.”

@reyesstrand @tornadeoqueen @liminalmemories21 @halestrom @green-socks @roosterseresin @ghostlykiss @shorelinetides @butchbradshaw @lightningboltreader @three-drink-amy and anyone else💖

[scmewhereelse]

In the face of loss, Pete would always remember Bradley's laugh, the sound of a life lived. Full body and high-pitched, a remnant of his father he never grew out of. A toddler on stubby legs, or a gangly teenager not yet grown into the length of his limbs, Bradley's laugh was a scene Pete would never grow tired of painting again and again. A record he would play on repeat until the diamond needle wore out. Maverick crashes into Rooster at full speed, sending him crashing down in a flurry of snow. "What the hell are you doing here?"

For @topgundrabble's "Dead Wife Montage (with a twist)".

[antelopeace]

10 PEOPLE I'D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW

thanks for the tag @icemavman !!

LAST SONG: 'if only' by dove cameron off the descendants soundtrack. i still have a soft spot for the movies and the songs

CURRENTLY WATCHING: i have about two episodes left on my rewatch of 'sex education' and right this second, i am watching 'major league'. all the talk about the padres vs dodgers in a bunch of icemav fics i read has made me want to get into baseball and i figured this would be a fun place to start

CURRENT OBSESSION: top gun of courseeee. although i must say i have been struggling with it a bit these last few weeks. can't really find the motivation to read fanfiction or write or rewatch the movies or anything, but without that, the obsession is slipping through my fingers. all it would would take to get me back on track is to do any of these things but ughhh... i just can't get myself do do anything. i am also not ready to let go of it tho. i wanna stay hereeee. somebody send help please

CURRENTLY READING: am currently in between books. last one i read was 'life safari' by john strelecky

CURRENTLY WORKING ON: gathering energy to work on anything

CURRENTLY WEARING: jeans and a black tee. most basic thing you can imagine

LAST GOOGLE SEARCH: "how many games per mlb season" because i wasn't sure i understood it correctly in the movie. however, i did. apparently the actually play 162 games per season. that is crazy

FAVORITE FLOWER: call me boring, but i don't have one! always wished i knew a lot of different flowers and had a genuine favourite, but so far, none has captured my heart

no pressure tagging (definitely not ten people because i am not yet brave enough for that!) @m4lotov @marchraindrops @crooked-jes @infnlte

sorry if you have been tagged already!

[andr33yy]

[military-newsboys]

Mav: Come on, Slider. Fight me!

Slider: Look at the size of you, shortie. What are you gonna do? Kick me in the heel?

[later]

Ice: Why is Slider crying on the floor?

Goose: Mav kicked him. Right in the heel.

[mackliin]

top gun's ✨it girls✨ of 1986

[starry-graves]

credit to this hangster post