hangman, you look good.

v, he/him, 🔞 president of the pathetic bradley bradshaw fan club my ao3

[butchbradshaw]

happy happy wip wednesday!

thanks for the tags @sunmontuewrites and @seresiinner! i missed last week and now i am posting slightly late today. well, it's the thought that counts! here is a teeny bit more of my teachers au. at this rate i'll be posting the whole thing in tiny snippets on tumblr...

“Gentlemen?”

A voice from the doorway cuts into their bickering; Vice Principal Bates, with an unimpressed look on his face. He clears his throat. 

“Simpson is asking for you.”

“Great,” Seresin mutters under his breath. Bradley just smirks, vindicated, and follows.

Simpson’s office door is propped open when they reach it. Reese sits outside the door, head hung in shame. Bradley forces himself to look away from him and enters. There stands Simpson, looking through the window to the field outside.

“Close the door behind you,” he says, still turned away. “And sit.” 

Bradley takes a seat in one of the poorly upholstered chairs, feeling the itch of his skin at being in a position he thought he’d escaped. Seresin shuts the door before joining him.

When Simpson finally turns around, mouth a straight line, Bradley knows it’s getting serious.

“I’ll have both of you know that both school and board do not tolerate this kind of behaviour,” he says. “Harassment of a staff member is not a matter we take lightly.”

“It wasn’t exactly harassment,” Bradley offers. “More like a dumb joke that went too far.”

Simpson quirks an eyebrow. “You mean to tell me it wasn’t… personally motivated?”

“If you’re asking if he did it because I’m gay, I don’t think so.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bradley can see Seresin choke on air. He pays it no mind.

“Look. It was stupid. Deeply, deeply stupid. But I don’t think he needs to be burnt at the stake. Detention and an apology would be nice. Maybe a good amount of volunteering. You know as well as I do that these kids can learn from their mistakes.”

Simpson nods, pursing his lips. “If you think that’s a suitable punishment.”

“I would rather he learn how to be a better person than feel like we’re punishing him for being a bad one.”

“Thank you, Bradshaw. I’ll have Bates start putting in some paperwork for that,” Simpson says, shuffling a stack of papers on his desk. “Onto our next issue.”

“Next… issue?” Seresin asks, the first Bradley’s heard from him since they were summoned to the office.

Simpson fixes them both with a look. “You two are… unacceptable. Staff members don’t need to be friends, but the personal business you bring to the workplace is egregious. I won’t have it.”

“Sir—” Bradley starts, but Simpson holds up a hand. 

“I’m sending you two to New York.”

tagging some lovely buddies: @welcometololaland@theglitteringtrio @likeallfire @shealwaysreads @stars-of-nixie @kaidergator @prollybradshaw @infferna @green-socks @jakekazansky and open tag, as always! xo

[welcometololaland]

have i finally gone too far? you be the judge

[welcometololaland]

Anyone But You

TGM | Explicit | Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin | 33.5k

(Fully written, posting every Sunday for 4 weeks).

---

When Jake Seresin is peer pressured into taking a last minute vacation, he certainly doesn’t expect Bradley Bradshaw to tag along. He also doesn’t expect to discover that his hotel is a hotspot for newlyweds. Nothing, however, could be more unexpected than finding himself on a fake honeymoon with his coworker, who just so happens to be inconveniently attractive.

OR

Bradley convinces Jake to fake a marriage for a fruit platter (and other reasons).

---

chapter 1 - love island is a documentary

---

thank you to everyone who heard me whinge about/rant about/painstakingly explain the plot of fake honeymoon, you know who you are! shout out @mxrcusflint who talked me off a ledge re: substantially reducing my word count (aka. saving my sanity) and @butchbradshaw and @shorelinetides who lived the nightmare/dream with me in the doc 💖 you may all have one fruit basket.

[butchbradshaw]

flag

[butchbradshaw]

happy happy wip wednesday!

and happy top gun-versary! thanks for the tags, @welcometololaland and @tgmsunmontue! actively posting this from the movie theatre seat as i wait for my imax screening of top gun (tgm was INCREDIBLE). here’s a bit (a lot) more of my ridiculous teachers au:

One small scheduling nightmare later, Billy Avalone has been told to put on a movie and Bob wordlessly handed Jake’s lesson plan.

“You’re making the poor guy teach? On his prep?” Bradley asks as they march Reese to the office.

“Relax,” Seresin says coolly. “It’s tenth-grade math. Not exactly rocket science. And you left Billy with some terrible DVD options, so, glass house.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had abysmal taste in movies.”

“You gave him a choice between Rosemary’s Baby and the live-action Cat in the Hat.”

Bradley doesn’t have time to think of a witty reply before they reach the office, where Reese stops at the door.

Seresin rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this, Reese. Get in there and reap what you’ve sown.”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Seresin—”

“You think it’s me you should be apologizing to?”

Reese turns back to Bradley as he walks into the office, but doesn’t look him in the eyes.

Seresin sighs once the door is closed. “Well, show’s over. Time to relieve Bob of trig.”

“That’s it? Your hands are washed of your student’s insubordination?” Bradley asks incredulously.

Seresin points a finger at him. “First of all, don’t use big words at me just because you teach English. I also speak the language. Second, unless Simpson chooses to involve me, it’s no longer my business. I had nothing to do with this stunt.”

“It was probably your shit-talking that made that kid hate me so much. I don’t even know who he is,” Bradley says, crossing his arms. “And ‘insubordination’ is not a big word.”

“I don’t shit-talk!” Seresin says. “I’ll have you know I am strictly professional with my students. That includes not talking trash about my colleagues to their faces.”

“And with your other colleagues?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody knows you and Machado are gossip queens. Who’s to say our friend Reese didn’t overhear one of your bitching sessions and visually echo the sentiment?

“Don’t call me a queen. It’s offensive.”

“Offensive to whom?”

“Don’t ‘whom’ me. Offensive to me.”

“And that would be why, exactly?”

“Because I’m—”

“Gentlemen?”

A voice from the door cuts into their bickering.

lord am i having fun writing this. tagging some lovely pals: @theglitteringtrio @likeallfire @shealwaysreads @stars-of-nixie @kaidergator @prollybradshaw @infferna @green-socks @jakekazansky @seresiinner and open tag, as always! xoxo

[shealwaysreads]

Precipice

hangster | E | 2.3k | edging, accidental love confessions, fuckbuddies to lovers

Summary: Sometimes you find the truth out on the edge of things.

or

precipice /prĕs′ə-pĭs/

noun

A sudden or headlong fall.

Read on Ao3

Excerpt:

"I'm— Fuck. I'm close. Closecloseclose—" Bradley dropped his hands to his own thighs and watched Jake gasp and shake in the aftermath of another almost-orgasm. Bradley had stopped keeping track of how many times he'd brought Jake to the edge that night, lost in the sight and sound and smell of desperation in front of him. Jake's hands were cuffed securely to the headboard out of necessity more than aesthetics; they'd learned that lesson early on. They might both love letting Jake hang over the precipice and strain and struggle against his instincts and what he's being ordered to do, but Jake's body didn't always get the memo. It had been its own delicious fun on their first attempt at this kind of play and Jake had furiously shoved Bradley down into tangled bedsheets and rutted—shameless and insistent—against his thigh until he came. But it hadn't been the plan. Bradley liked things going to plan when he scened. He had bought cuffs the next day, even though he knew he wouldn't be seeing Jake for weeks. Being part of the Dagger squad on a permanent basis didn't mean they were always assigned together.  And they weren't. Together, that is. They did this thing together sometimes—often, even—and that was enough for Bradley. It was all he was ever going to get, so it had to be enough. Something tender and futile bubbled in his chest when he took his eye off things, but he'd gotten good at tucking it neatly away and toeing the line Jake had carefully drawn that first night they fell into each other.  "It doesn't have to be—don't make it a thing, Bradshaw. Let's just have some fun." It was just some fun. In fact it was more fun than Bradley had had in years. Jake in his bed was one (gorgeous, fucking unbelievable) thing. But Jake in his bed, cuffed and begging, at the mercy of Bradley's pace? It was something he'd daydreamed of, before. Reality was better than anything he'd concocted in his head.

Read on Ao3

A little gift for my lovely @seekstrivefind - the power of friendship has fuelled the making of this little baby! Thank you for being excellent, I hope you enjooooy it! ❤️

[butchbradshaw]

“I’ll be right back,” Bradley grumbles, swivelling on his heel to leave the room. He looks over his shoulder. “Don’t be stupid.”

His students nod, clearly more than a little shocked.

Bradley stalks towards the adjoining room, reaching it in a few strides. When he reaches the closed door, he doesn’t even think before banging against it. 

It squeaks open, and he’s met by Jake Seresin’s annoyed face—which smooths into a smirk as soon as he sees who’s responsible for the interruption.

“Bradshaw.”

“Let me in.”

Seresin quirks an eyebrow. “I have a class, Bradshaw,” he says, hushed but confident.

“I have permanent-marker graffiti on my whiteboard, Seresin.”

“And that’s my problem why?”

“Because it apparently came from this class.”

Bradley, unfortunately, relishes in the way Seresin’s face drops. He recovers quickly, though, swinging the door open to let Bradley in. The questioning looks from Seresin’s tenth-grade math students aren’t exactly welcoming. But that’s the least of Bradley’s worries right now.

Seresin clears his throat, closing the door behind Bradley and joining him at the front of the room. “Any of you know why Mr. Bradshaw has decided to pay us a visit?”

Silence. Much like Bradley’s own classroom. 

Bradley sighs exasperatedly. “Who here wrote ‘Bradshaw sucks balls’ in Sharpie on my whiteboard?”

Unsurprisingly, laughter rips through the room. A little shocked, a lot mocking. But Seresin lifts a hand, and they go silent. 

Bradley suddenly thinks he could learn a thing or two from that. He banishes the mortifying thought as quickly as it appears. 

“It’s not funny,” Seresin adds. “If none of you come forward, we’ll have to take this to the office.”

“We’re taking it to the office no matter what,” Bradley says.

“Not if we hear a confession.”

“Especially if we hear a confession!”

“Bradshaw, it’s not your job to decide how I discipline my students.”

“It is my job if it involves my name on a whiteboard!”

“Um. Mr. Seresin? Mr. Bradshaw?” comes a voice from the desks. 

They turn back to the rest of the room. A boy has stood up from his seat, a pained expression on his face.

[vanillacreame153]

Been thinking about them a lot lately too………

[butchbradshaw]

discount

[seekstrivefind]

A Human-Centered Framework Top Gun: Maverick | Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Jake “Hangman Seresin | 17,472 words | Rated E

"We have not been flirting," Bradley manages to say, eventually. "I've been telling everybody that you're an idiot once a year in a globally ranked academic journal while you desperately try your best to prove me right." "Like I said," Seresin smirks. "Flirting."

or; academic rivals to lovers by way of published papers

featuring: college professors, academic abstracts, the 'oh no he's hot' moment, the author's barely disguised career from their twenties, and unforgivable misrepresentation of the academic peer review process

read on ao3

[emmamaltais]

CJ losing their helmet in the third period Vancouver @ Seattle | April 18, 2026

[butchbradshaw]

selfie

[butchbradshaw]

happy happy wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @welcometololaland! and thanks for cooking up this evil idea with me! here's a brief break from neighbours au for... well, whatever the hell this is. it's self-explanatory, really...

“So you’re telling me,” Hangman starts with a laugh.

Bradley scoffs. “I don’t want to hear it, Seresin.”

“You’re telling me,” Hangman continues, “that you’ve been loading up your spank bank with creep shots of my digital footprint?”

It’s ridiculous, really. Especially when he puts it like that. And Bradley knows. He knew the whole time. And yet…

Well, he did it anyway. 

Bradley feels his cheeks turn a traitorous crimson as he sputters for a reply. 

“Bold of you to assume I’ve been using them to jerk off,” is what he settles on. He plasters on a smirk, entirely for show. “Vain, really.”

Hangman barks out a laugh, making Bradley’s smile drop. “What’s the alternative? You saved a bunch of zoomed-in selfies of me just to look at? Because, you know, that’s weirder than jerking off to them.” He muses, suddenly. “There are other options, I guess. Dart boards, voodoo dolls, the whole hateful nine yards. Or do you have a shrine?” He gasps in mock surprise. “Bradley Bradshaw, do you have a murder board? Have you been stalking me to plot my demise?”

“Shut up,” Bradley mutters dumbly. “Fine. I’ve been using your photos to…” he gestures wildly. “You know.”

“Paint the ceiling? Choke the chicken? Do the five-knuckle shuffle?” Hangman asks, wiggling his eyebrows wildly. 

“You’re disgusting, man.”

“Oh, come on. There are better things to call me,” Hangman says with a wink.

i really have no explanation for this one. blame lola and our overactive imaginations. tagging some lovely mutuals @theglitteringtrio @shealwaysreads @stars-of-nixie @kaidergator @prollybradshaw @infferna @green-socks @jakekazansky @seresiinner and open tag as always! xoxo

[seresiinner]

tell me what you think your callsign would be and why!

[no-bread]

Here it is, the Office worker X Coffee machine repairman AU I wanted to do! Well the first 7 pages, what started as a small idea has quickly become a full story 😅 I don’t know how far I’ll take it but I had a lot of fun drawing this and I’m very happy I got back to it after a few weeks break :)

Decaf is also the name of a very good webcomic by F Chang, it’s on Webtoon and Tapas and I really recommend it!!

[twinktorturer]

middle aged man abuse.org

[butchbradshaw]

happy happy wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @welcometololaland! i'm currently alternating between dying from finals and dying from mono (don't ask.) so this is a slightly older wip that i've been noodling on for a while! neighbours au and composer!bradley based on this tweet <3

This time around, an infectious hook had popped into his mind in, of all places, somebody else’s bed. He had gone out to some shitty bar with the intention of getting in the pants of whatever stranger looked his way first. He didn’t want to be crude, but he wasn’t really aware of any other way to get his mind off the train wreck that was his adult life. The past year’s string of bad hookups and even worse casual relationships were breaking his brain. Work wasn’t exactly conducive to his mental health, either—one can only write so many shitty corporate jingles before their mind and soul go the way of cable TV. Never mind the living conditions of it all. After Natasha had moved out of their cozy two-bedroom house in Silver Lake, citing a raise at work and a sudden realization that she was too old for a roommate, Bradley had downsized. But his new one-bedroom is surprisingly lonely. He misses Nat. He misses his old place. He misses being young in LA with something to prove.

Even more than that, Bradley misses San Diego. He misses his parents' house. The upright piano in their cozy living room. He just misses his

No sense in thinking about that.

Besides, Bradley is going to make the best of it. He does love his new apartment, despite how quiet it gets. He loves the hardwood floors, the way the sunlight filters through the sprawling windows, the pale blue exterior of the complex. He’s sure things are looking up.

Or, they would be, if he could finish this fucking song.

tagging some lovely mutuals @shealwaysreads @stars-of-nixie @kaidergator @infferna @theglitteringtrio @jakekernerkazansky @akay19 @prollybradshaw @likeallfire and others! xo