Top Gun is all I can think about right now. Ships/things I write: smut/fluff/angst for Hangman, Bob, Iceman, Val Kilmer, IceMav, HangmanxBob, and TG/TGMxReadee There will definitely be some 18+ fics on here
THE NEXT PART FOR WHERE THE WILD THINGS HEAL IS IN THE DRAFTS! IâLL BE POSTING 4,5,6 ON THE SAME DAY SO I CAN GET THROUGH AND SAY SORRY FOR THE SLOW UPDATES!
Summary: The confrontation in the hangar shakes both Jake and Bob in a way they didn't want it to. The masks slip, glass cracks and old habits die hard
Pairings: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Robert 'Bob' Floyd
Warnings: Angsty, illusions to violence, PTSD, trauma. 18+ bc all my work is unfit for minors (smut or not)
A/N: This has taken me forever to post. It is currently 1:20 am Sunday morning aha. Late again lol.
Tags: @chaosofmanyfandoms
MASTERLIST
Jake's room was dark, cold and quiet.
Jake lay on his back; arms folded over his chest like he was holding himself together. The sheets were twisted at his feet. The fan overhead spun in lazy circles. He hadn't slept more than an hour in days.
Every time he closed his eyes, the past came crawling in.
Not in full memories, not always, but in flashes. A shove. A fist. a hallway too narrow to run. The black chevy idling outside the school. A smirk that always came before the pain.
He jolted awake at the sound of nothing.
His body was a live wire. Muscles tense. Eyes wide. Breath sharp.
He wasn't seventeen, he was safe.
He was safe.
He repeated it again and again, quietly, like a prayer he didn't believe.
The sky was wide and blinding over the tarmac. Heat shimmered off the concrete like steam, rising between the hangars and waiting jets. The Daggers were halfway through a grueling two-hour flight exercise; pair formations, precision maneuvers and low-level canyon runs. All under strict time pressure.
Jake had been flying with Phoenix, Robert had been paired with Payback.
Jake had done his best to avoid even glancing at the other jet in the air. But that voice, the one in the backseat of payback's plane, calm and clipped and surgical, still crawled under his skin. The old voice. The one that used to growl threats in locker rooms and laugh after throwing him into the dirt.
He felt it every time Robert said, "Pull left, now." Every time his voice dropped to that low, commanding register. It made Jake's pulse spike, made his grip tighten on the throttle just a little too hard.
They landed smooth. debrief started immediately on the tarmac, under the shade of a canvas tent near the edge of the airstrip. Everyone was sweating and flushed, pulling off helmets, cracking jokes. Everyone except Jake, who stood just outside the group with his arms crossed, eyes fixed on the horizon.
And Robert?
Robert had his helmet under his arm, flight suit half unzipped, sleeves tied around his waist. He looked calm, neutral, but something in his stance was coiled tight. Payback was laughing about a late turn he'd missed during the canyon run.
"You almost had us kissing that cliff, man," Payback said, grinning. "I swear, I thought I heard Bob say goodbye."
Jake flinched at the sound of Bob but didn't move.
Robert didn't laugh.
"You ignored my mark," he said flatly. "You were three seconds slow on the dive. If you'd done that during an actual op, we'd be scraped across the valley floor."
The tone wasn't teasing. It was sharp. Cold.
Payback's smile faded. "It was half a second, man. We adjusted."
"No," Robert snapped, stepping closer. "You reacted. And I had to fix it. Again."
Everyone froze.
Jake's breath caught. The way Robert's body shifted, shoulders squared, voice low, the unblinking glare. It was the exact posture he'd used before every blow in high school. The warning. The countdown.
Reuban raised his hands a little. "Okay, hey. Chill. It's training, we all screw up."
Robert's jaw tightened. For a second, it looked like he might keep going, might push harder. Like something underneath his skin was begging to come loose.
Jake stepped back without realising it. Just a step, but Phoenix saw.
She turned toward him, eyebrows pinching slightly. "You good?"
Jake nodded quickly, looking away. "Yeah. Fine."
Phoenix looked between him and Robert, Robert who'd gone silent, staring hard at the ground like he was trying to choke something back.
Robert didn't look up. Didn't look at Jake. Didn't say a word. But Jake could feel the old heat rolling off him like smoke, buried but not gone.
Jake stood in front of the mirror, drying sweat off his face with a towel. His heart still hadnât slowed all the way. Every muscle was wired tight beneath the surface.
The reflection in the mirror didnât lie: his hands were trembling. He turned on the faucet, splashed cold water on his face, and forced himself to breathe.
Heâd handled it. No one knew. He hadnât flinched too hard. He hadnât run. But heâd seen something in Robertâs face todayâsomething real. Something that hadnât changed, no matter how many years had passed.
The part that liked to control. The part that didnât let go. The part that hit first. Jake didnât want to find out what would happen if that version ever fully resurfaced.
And God help him if he was the one standing too close when it did.
WHERE THE WILD THINGS HEAL WILL BE PUBLISHED FRIDAY 8:30PM WEST AUSTRALIAN TIME!
I do apologise Iâve been busy with work and another project :)
Teeny Tiny Update: it is now Saturday and I feel so guilty! Iâll do it tonight I promise; its just my job is 12 hrs a day and 14 days straight with no days off, so I struggle with publishing sometimes
Part three to the Childhood Enemies will be coming soon! Iâm working on a new title for the series as well, Iâll let you know when Iâve done it. Bc Iâll change the titles on all the fics!
Summary: Jake had done an excellent job concealing his and Bobâs history, but a well timed (or maybe calculated) run in, in the hangar forces the two to talk.
Pairings: Jake âHangmanâ Seresin x Robert âBobâ Floyd,, Floydsin
Warnings: Angst,, 18+ bc all my work is unfit for minors
A/N: like I said, next chapters is after the dagger mission
Tags: @chaosofmanyfandoms
ONE MONTH POST DAGGER MISSION
The hangar was nearly empty.
Night had draped itself over the base, thick and quiet, with only the hum of the floodlights cutting through the silence. Rows of jets stood like sentinels in the shadows-sleek, still and waiting. Jake Seresin stood beside one of them, resting a hand on the cool metal of the wing. His other hand clenched a rag he wasn't using anymore. He just needed something to hold onto.
He wasn't supposed to be here this late. But then again, neither was the weight sitting heavy in his chest.
It had been a month since the Dagger Mission. A month since they'd all been reassigned together- Top Gun's Golden Squad, now some kind of elite special operations team. They trained, briefed, debriefed, flew. Then they drank at the Hard Deck like nothing had changed.
Except for Jake, everything had.
Because he was back.
Robert Floyd- Bob to everyone else- was back in his life like a ghost in broad daylight. Only he wasn't the same. Now he was steady, calm, the voice of reason in the room. Smart. Quiet. Respectful. The kind of guy people listened to.
And Jake couldn't fucking stand it.
Because he remembered. All of it.
Footsteps echoed in the hangar. Jake didn't need to look. He already knew who it was.
"Hangman."
The voice was low, almost careful.
"Not on duty, Robert. Try using my actual name."
Silence for a moment and then:
"You've been avoiding me."
Jake let out a sharp laugh, no humour, just irritation.
"Really? I thought you were doing the same." Jake said, "worked out great!"
"I wasn't," Robert replied. "Not really."
Jake turned slowly, leaning against the jet with folded arms. He kept his expression flat, but his eyes were sharp, cutting.
"What do you want?"
Robert met his gaze, calm but not cold.
"To talk. Just you and me."
Jake's smile twisted at the edges. "And now you want to talk?" His response was cold. "After a month of pretending we didn't know each other. After a decade of pretending I didn't exist unless you had a fist to put in my ribs?"
Robert's mouth tightened. "I deserved that."
"You deserve a hell of a lot more."
"I know."
Jake pushed off the plane, taking a step forward, his voice rising. "Do you? Do you really know what it's like to see your old high school bully standing next to you in a flight suit, acting like we're teammates, like you didn't beat the shit out of me on a regular basis?!"
Robert stayed still, but his jaw clenched.
"You don't get to rewrite this," Jake snapped. "You don't get to erase the bruises, split lips, the days I faked being sick so I wouldn't have to see you in the halls. The weeks I had to lie to my parents about why i couldn't lift my arm, or why my eye was black."
Robert looked away, chest rising and falling.
Jake stepped closer, venom in his voice now. "You know what pisses me off the most? It's you." He gestured up and down Robert's body. "This version of you. Quiet, polite. Polite little Bob that gets perfect scores and keeps his temper in check. Everyone thinks you're harmless. But I remember."
Robert's voice was raw when it came: "So do I."
Jake ignored him. "I remember the guy who smelled like gasoline and cigarettes. Who smiled after he shoved me into a locker. Who made it a goddamn hobby to humiliate me whenever he could. You were terrifying, Robert. And now you're what? Enlightened?"
"I've never stopped being ashamed." Robert said through a clenched jaw.
Jake looked away, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. His heart was hammering in his chest, the pain from those memories fresh and hot like it had never left.
"You broke me," he said, barely more than a whisper. "And now you're back and you've got discipline and good grades and a clean conscience? You sit there in briefings like a goddamn saint while I'm still picking up the pieces."
Robert looked like he'd been slapped.
"I don't expect forgiveness," he said, "And I don't deserve it. But I needed to say something, I couldn't keep pretending I didn't wreck something important."
Jake stared at him, eyes full of fire and exhaustion. "You didn't wreck something. You wrecked me. And I don't know if I can look at you and not see the kid that used to throw punches like it was a joke."
"I know," Robert whispered, "but I'm not that kid anymore."
Jake didn't respond. Not really. He stayed where he was as Robert turned and walked away, footsteps echoing against the hangar walls.
The silence that followed felt both empty and too full. Jake pressed a hand to the side of the jet, grounding himself. He didn't know if he'd ever forgive Robert.
But for the first time, he'd seen the ghost flinch.
Summary: Robert âBobâ Floyd and Jake âHangmanâ Seresin hadnât seen each other since leaving their hometown in Oklahoma, the dagger mission forces their paths to cross and secrets to be revealed
Pairings: Jake âHangmanâ Seresin x Robert âBobâ Floyd
Warnings: Fluff and Angst. 18+ bc all my work is unfit for minors.
A/N: most likely going to be a series (this oneâs going to be short. Like when they first see each other. The other chapters will be after the dagger mission)
There was a beauty to Miramar that stole the breath from Robertâs lungs, the site of the setting sun brought memories with it. The back seater had been racking his brain as to why he was once again back at this place. No explanation, no offer of instructor; just âYouâve been called back to Top Gunâ.
Robert had been quite unnerved and annoyed with the whole situation, considering heâd only just started adapting to his newest pilot and heâd been promised to be back at home with his family by now. Alas, that was not to be; and here he sat with a cup full of peanuts and a selective silence that heâd found solace in.
Jake had been overjoyed at the call, he assumed theyâd be offering him the position of Top Gun instructor; at the very least by morning. The cocky pilot was convinced heâd deserved that role, considering heâd been at the top of his class in his Top Gun days.
Though, a sadness lingered in his heart when he thought back on the call to his mother, stating heâd not be able to make it home for her birthday.
He wondered if he had gone home, would he have seen him? The boy that haunted his memories with fists and harsh words, the boy that turned him into what he is today. Jake often wondered what heâd say if heâd ever see him again. If the boy, now a man, would still be chasing the rodeo; or if he grew out of cut knuckles and split lips.
Almost as soon as his train of thought ended, Phoenix waltzed in; her stride confident and cocky. Jake smirked to himself.
âAnd here I thought we were special Coyote!â His voice was confident as he sat himself down at the edge of the pool table. Unknowingly making the eyes of another aviator widen with shock, surprise, guilt, shame and fear.
âFellas, this here is Bagman.â The woman retorted, a smirk slowly making its way into her lips; her eyes slid to the side and caught site of Robert. Her brow raised in the slightest.
âHangman.â Jake corrected.
âWhatever.â Phoenix said, her smirk still plastered to her face before she continued: âYouâre looking at the only aviator in active duty with a confirmed air-to-air killâ
âStop.â Jake feigned.
âMind you,â Phoenix went on, the aviators behind her smirking slightly, âthe guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.â
Jakeâs brows creased slightly, his mouth opening and closing in the slightest.
âCold War.â Coyote corrected, attempting to save his best friendâs pride.
âDifferent wars.â One of the aviators behind Phoenix said said, âsame century.â The smirk was practically lathered into the sound of his reply.
âWho are your friends?â Coyote asked.
âPayback.â
âFanboy.â
Phoenix smirked at Coyote.
âHey, Coyote.â The woman said.
âHey.â Coyote said, feigning a flirtatious tone.
âWhoâs he?â The woman asked.
Jake turned his head and felt his entire world up end itself. Because, fuck me, Robert fucking Floyd was sat in the corner the entire time. His hand nursing a cup of some sort of nut, dorky glasses adorned on his face and a sickly innocent look upon his face.
Sweat built up in the palm of Jakeâs hands. His childhood cries echoing through his ears. There sat the man that ruined his idea of peace, love and acceptance. There sat Robert Floyd, the man that inadvertently caused Jake to shut off his heart to the entire world.
âWhoâs who?â Coyote asked dumbly, and Jake mightâve laughed at that five minutes ago, but right now he was frozen with fear.
Robert looked up with an innocent smile, but Jake didnât miss the way his eyes lingered on him for a moment.
âWhen did you get in?â Coyote said curtly.
âO-oh, Iâve been here the whole time.â Robert said, his smile still sweet and his smile still making Jake want to throw up everything heâd eaten in the last 24-hours.
Jake noticed the expectant stares, the little glance from coyote. Heâd been silent for too long.
With a quick inhale, Jake decided to play the âIâve never seen you in my lifeâ card.
âManâs a stealth pilot.â He said with a smirk.
âLiterally.â Coyote agreed.
Robert felt a fleeting feeling of anger bubble in his chest. An old habit heâd been trying to forget. He didnât forget the way heâd treated Jake in their early years, and he didnât forget his ability to fit sarcasm into a seemingly innocent reply.
If Jake wanted to act like they didnât have a history. So be it.
âWeapons System Officer, actually.â
Jake didnât miss the slight tone hidden in the reply, didnât miss the hard eyes Robert sent him. And he sure as hell didnât miss the childish response to up and leave and never come back.
But Jake wasnât a 16-year old church boy anymore, he wasnât the boy who sat under the bleachers with a split lip and he wasnât the boy that would actively memorise Robertâs schedule in order to avoid him.
âWith no sense of humour.â
That stung Robert. Heâd hoped to have received at least a little more, maybe a yell, a scoff. He didnât like being ignored; it didnât give him the chance to apologise.
âWhat do they call you?â Phoenix asked, she missed the âan assholeâ comment from Jake, but Robert didnât.
âUh, Bob.â He replied, briefly looking down at his lap to avoid Jakeâs shocked glare.
Bob was a name that he hated, Jake knew that. The last time heâd ever referred to Robert Floyd as âBobâ, heâd ended up in the hospital.
âNo,â Payback said, âyour callsign.â
Everyone missed the shame in Robertâs eyes.
âUh, Bob.â
Heâd hoped Jake would catch the shake in his voice, the pain in his eyes. Heâd chosen his callsign, he didnât receive it. He chose it to remind himself of who he used to be, of the boy he swore he would never be again.
âBob Floyd?â Phoenix asked.
And if someone looked to the side just briefly, theyâd see the look of panic and the grip of the pool stick Jake had.
âYouâre my new back seater?â The woman continued, âfrom Lemoore?â
âLooks like it.â
There was a look of sadness on his face as he said it, a look that caused Jake to scoff in the slightest.
Can we get some fucking appreciation for this movie?!
One scene has stuck with me since watching it (albeit five minutes ago) but still on repeat in my brain. Is the the Let Me Entertain You scene.
Chills. Literal chills.
It was a perfect depiction of trauma and ptsd and fighting his demonsâŠwhich just happened to be himself. He is his trauma. Not saying he caused it for himselfâŠbut he âRobbie Williamsâ was created through trauma, drugs and alcohol. And not only thatâŠhe was a person his younger self would never be safe around.
Omfg please appreciate this film and the masterpiece and the everything. Heâs just a baby, please treat him like one. Heâs delicateâŠhe âdents easilyâ.
In the heat of battle, photographer Horace Bristol captured one of the most unique and erotic photos of WWII.
Bristol photographed a young crewman of a US Navy âDumboâ PBY rescue mission, manning his gun after having stripped naked and jumped into the water of Rabaul Harbor to rescue a badly burned Marine pilot. The Marine was shot down while bombing the Japanese-held fortress of Rabaul.
ââŠwe got a call to pick up an airman who was down in the Bay. The Japanese were shooting at him from the island, and when they saw us they started shooting at us. The man who was shot down was temporarily blinded, so one of our crew stripped off his clothes and jumped in to bring him aboard. He couldnât have swum very well wearing his boots and clothes. As soon as we could, we took off. We werenât waiting around for anybody to put on formal clothes. We were being shot at and wanted to get the hell out of there. The naked man got back into his position at his gun in the blister of the plane.â
âAnd well, there was his butt, and I had a camera. I mean I AM a historian.â