#get to know maverick

[overwhelmed-alien]

It’s been said many times before, and to each their own, but I still find it hard to believe anyone thinks Lt Jake Hangman Seresin is a straight man. Boy kept eye contact and bent in half over a table the literal second he saw his ex rival. Nobody is that much of a raging brat “platonically”. He was screaming to be pinned to that pool table and kissed senseless.

And we all know who he was screaming at.

[xiaokuer-schmetterling]

saw somebody saying they don't post comments bc they don't want the author to reply? WTF is author dni??? I LOVE IT WHEN THE AUTHOR REPLIES TO ME THAT SHIT IS AMAZING it's like we're sending fandom themed postcards to each other it's like we're pen pals IT GIVES ME SO MUCH SEROTONIN i don't understand that mentality I WANT THE AUTHOR TO KNOW HOW THEY HAVE AFFECTED ME and then pat me on the head and tell me i'm a good reader

me @ me: bc i want a good grade in fanfic reader which is both normal to want and possible to achieve

ps authors owe me nothing btw if your energy is split btwn replying to comments or posting a new thing I will always support your efforts towards new thing. or yk taking a break for self care bc that's important too

[and-prayers]

do you think anyone else at the military air museum knows im reading top gun fanfiction

[pollyna]

I thought we hit rock bottom

And then the floor gave out

The day Bradley storms out, screaming horrible and petty things, telling them they should be the one dead instead of this real father, Ice wants to say that it's not going to be only wishful thinking for long. But he doesn't because Mav doesn't know yet, and he, they, just lost their kid. So he leaves the letter in his desk where is it, just for a little longer, just to give them to heal a little and, the next day, the calls to fix the first appointment with the oncologist. They have the time, and he will talk to Mav soon.

[actuallyitsstar]

grief is not a feeling, but a neighborhood. this is where i come from. everyone i love still lives here. // (insp.)

[frozen-seagrass]

Thinking about Mav being unsure of what Ice's eye color is

Of course he's not going to do the normal thing and ask the man, so he settles for finding ways to get up close and personal to try and see for himself without being obvious (-> he fails)

But every time he gets a close enough look they're different. One day they look blue but the next they look hazel. One moment they look brown but then he turns his head and a different light catches on them and they look almost green

It turns into one big game of "How close will he let me get? How much will he let me see?" And it's not until he's gotten to the point of being a breath away from Ice's face- close enough to brush lips- and standing under the bright white LEDs that he realizes that they're gray

[ray935sworld]

Marc in the background just watching Mav being hugged by his wife and daughters

[kilmerslove]

for as little info we’re given about ice’s upbringing, why does it make so much sense that his father was the biggest hardass marine to ever exist?

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I thought you’d get a kick out of this:

I think back in like 2020 there was an au where Steve Randle and maverick from top gun were brothers. Maverick was the older one (for some reason. I always thought it didn’t make a lot of sense because Steve is from the sixties and maverick is from the eighties, but the au made it work) and Steve was his much younger half brother.

I think they shared a mom (who they both looked exactly like, I’m assuming) and they didn’t actually know about each other until Steve’s dad died and maverick was the next of kin that had to take him in.

Anyway I distinctly remember maverick not knowing how to interact with Steve and Steve just… blatantly hating mavericks guts. He liked ice and goose though. Not maverick. Maverick was very stressed about that

Also I remember someone saying that Maverick would hate Steve being impulsive and driving recklessly and everyone would call him a hypocrite for it.

Oh yeah no you’re so right this is completely up my alley

Steve’s just mad ‘cuz Mav got to have braces and he didn’t

also where was that au on/what platform was it on?? I needa see more that’s amazing

[overwhelmed-alien]

Bradley: *On phone* Uh, hey Mav! Don’t freak out, but can you come give me and Jake a ride to the ER?

Mav: Oh my God are you okay? I’m on my way! What happened?

Jake: *in background, moaning* You fucking DROPPED me.

Bradley: Um, the Dirty Dancing song came on the radio when we were cooking dinner, and things got outta hand. We tried to do the lift-

Mav: The lift?

Bradley: Yeah the lift, when Swayze lifts Baby over his head?

Jake: *sobbing* I think you broke my hip! And my shoulder!

Bradley: You’re a lot heavier than Baby, baby! If it makes you feel any better I think you broke my back :)

Mav: …are you guys drunk?

Bradley: No, but honestly I wish we were, it would make it a lot less embarrassing if we didn’t do this completely sober.

Jake: *crying* oh noooo, my cabinets…they’re destroyed!

Bradley: I’ll fix’em, hon, hey Mav, you think after the ER we can swing by Home Depot?

[rocky-deberry]

Hangman has an ass tattoo. You can't tell me I'm wrong about this

[amelia-mariee]

There’s such a sense of community that comes with (fill-in-the-blank movie) summers. I feel like Top Gun Maverick summer and Twisters summer are so iconic and kind of go hand in hand and they should be the blueprint. We need more summers like these. I think that each summer from here on out, we need to have a big summer blockbuster with a relatively big cast and attractive people and high stakes and at least one new song in it. Also Glen Powell needs to be in it. Glen Powell does not have to the main character or even your favorite character. He just needs to be in it. I don’t know why

[the-ace-with-spades]

Do you ever think Mav looks at the pics of him carrying Bradley around in his arms when he was a baby or a toddler and feels all mushy because Bradley is now tree-sized and can't be carried around ever again

[pampelushka]

Dirty Dancing Hangster AU part 3/?

PART 1 HERE

PART 2 HERE

Jake spends the next two days trying to shake the ghost touch of Bradley’s palms from his hips. He hits the gym and joins a volleyball game just to distract himself. But his thoughts keep circling back to that one hour in a dance studio, to that  bead of sweat on Bradley’s chest, to the warmth of his body against his back. 

It’s ridiculous, he thinks, how little was needed to put him in such a state. 

When the next day, he wakes up at five - again, with a little problem staring right in his face - again, takes a cold shower - again, he realizes there’s no way he can face his friends at the breakfast table without exploding. So he puts on his gym shorts and sneakers and decides  to join the group of people waiting outside the hotel for the six am trail running session. 

None of the daggers are there, all of them sound asleep in their hotel rooms. He makes some small talk with some of the guests he met at different occasions around the property, but mostly he keeps to himself, trying to hold in the pent up energy he hopes to burn on the run. 

‘Good morning, everyone, shall we?’ 

And Jake would swear his soul leaves his body when he hears that voice again, just as raspy in the early morning, as it was when they danced together. Bradley’s striding to the front of the group, his signature smirk already on his face, soft brown eyes taking in the faces of the people in the group. Jake can’t help but glare when their eyes meet.

Here he is, all ready to release all that pent up energy from the last two days, and he should be doing so while watching Bradley’s ass, leading them into the woods. Bradley’s ass again! Fuck. Nothing in this stupid place works in his favor. 

Bradley cocks an eyebrow obviously amused by Jake’s expression and Jake just rolls his eyes. He would quit this whole thing if it didn’t make him feel like a loser.

‘Today’s trail is on the steeper side, nothing for the faint-hearted,’ Bradley says and Jake curses, because now he can’t quit even if he really wanted to. Bradley continues: ‘If we keep the pace, we should be back right in time for breakfast.’ And with that he starts jogging.

And thank God for that, because Jake could not stand still any longer. 

He tries to keep at the back, slowing his usual pace considerably, putting as many people as possible in between himself and the sight of Bradley’s ass. And it may be alright at the beginning but soon it starts to get frustrating. People start to slow down more, he starts to mingle and before he knows it, the group comes to the steep part of the hill and he leaves most of the runners behind. 

Bradley looks over his shoulder and sees there’s only Jake keeping up with him. 

‘There’s only one way up, we’ll wait for them at the top,’ he smirks, panting and speeds up. And Jake is not one to miss a challenge.

He quickens his pace and focuses on his feet hitting the ground, keeping his sight resolutely on the trail. He’s soon shoulder to shoulder with Bradley. And he’s ready to show off and pick up his pace again when Bradley startles him by offering an awkward handshake while still keeping the jog up the hill. ‘Bradley,’ he says simply, his eyes soft and friendly.

It takes everything in Jake not to say I know. Instead, he goes for ‘Pleasure,’ punctuated with a smirk ‘Jake.’

‘Nice to be finally able to put a name to the face,’ Bradley says, jumping a little to sidestep a bigger rock in the way. 

Or to the ass, Jake thinks to himself. 

On the outside, he just hums.

He’s desperately trying to come up with some neutral-territory small talk topic, but fails miserably. Nat would have a field day if she saw just how little was necessary to make him shut up. 

‘So a pilot, huh?’ Bradley asks, seemingly just to keep the conversation afloat. And of course he knows that, Jake saw him shake hands with officers of the highest ranks like they were old friends. ‘What’s your callsign?’ he adds casually and damn, if that doesn’t catch Jake off guard.

“Are you on callsign terms with all of the visitors?’ he asks instead of replying, eyebrows raised. 

Bradley huffs a breathy laugh and Jake decidedly doesn’t look at him. He glues his sight to the trail and spots the top of the hill, where Bradley promised a break. So he picks up his pace and doesn’t let the steep finish slow him down. That’s why he came on this run in the first place, he reminds himself.

When he finally hits the top, chest heaving, legs shaking, but brain blissfully quiet, he bends in half trying to calm his racing heart. Bradley catches up with him in seconds, doing his own dance of shaking legs, stretching back and catching breath.

‘You’re good,’ he says with a nod. ‘It’s been a while since someone outran me on this bitch of a hill.’

Jake snorts but doesn’t say anything. They can hear the rest of the runners approaching them, most likely fighting for their lives while walking up the hill. Otherwise it’s just a comfortable quiet.

‘It’s Hangman,’ Jake volunteers. ‘My callsign.’

Bradley’s face does a complicated thing and Jake doesn’t know him well enough to be able to decipher any of it. But Bradley catches Jake’s attention and his face evens out, settling on the amused half smile he usually wears.

‘Is there a story there?’ he asks.

‘There always is,’ Jake says, shrugging his shoulders. And that’ll have to do, because people are finally appearing, hitting the top of the hill, red faced and out of breath. Bradley shifts into instructor mode and leaves Jake behind in order to check up on everyone.  

‘See you all in the evening,’ he waves at them once they’re back at the hotel. Some of the runners respond to that with a joyful cheer. He preens a bit at that, pats a few shoulders and just like that, he’s gone. 

***

Jake didn’t exactly know what those words meant but he could guess and that guess was driving him crazy for the rest of the day. And sure enough, once dinner is finished and everyone is settled at their tables in the dining hall, the lights go off and music starts. It’s not  the same lively salsa they got at their welcoming night. This time, it is something a bit slower, more sensual, the tones softer, the melody romantic. 

And then out of nowhere, Bradley and his dance partner appear, in the middle of the dance floor, stage lights shining above their heads. They command the stage and the attention of their audience as they slowly close the distance between their bodies in a few deliberately slow steps.

The dance is something out of this world. Slow and sensual, their hips moving with the music like the water moves with the moon. They touch and they press and then they pull apart only to press even closer. Their thighs are pressed in between each other's legs while they sway their hips as if to get even closer. Their hands are everywhere, clutching tightly or brushing softly, whatever the music dictates. They keep their eyes locked, no matter the move, only tearing away for a spin. 

When Bradley pins his partner’s body even closer by the small of her back, while he grips her thigh from underneath, allowing her to bend backwards, her palms almost touching the ground, while still keeping the rhythm of the sway of their hips... Jake has to look away. 

He suddenly registers the heat in his cheeks, his ragged breathing. He breathes in slowly through his nose to calm down his racing heart and tries to glance back at the performance only to meet Brydley’s eyes while his partner is in the middle of a spin. His eyes are dark, lacking the usual amusement, but overflowing with passion.

It’s like watching someone in the middle of a foreplay.

‘Damn,’ he hears Nat whispering, ‘You think he’ll teach us this next time?’  

‘You wish,’ someone snorts quietly, but there’s a hint of awe even under the teasing.

To Jake’s relief, the music slows down and with a last spin of both dancers, the performance is over. There’s a huge applause, people whistling and cheering, while they bow to all the directions.

‘Applause for Bradley and Kira,’ sounds from the speakers belatedly, and the cheering grows only louder. Bradley and Kira are still standing on their spots, holding hands, smiling joyfully, like the perfect couple. ‘Our dance instructors would love to invite everyone on the dance floor,’ the voice continues, ‘Don’t be shy and join them for some fun, shimmy and jive. Feel the music and enjoy your evening!’ 

And on that cue, another song starts to play and most of the older married couples start to get up to join the dance floor. On Jake’s right, Bob stands up offering his hand to Nat.

‘Will you do me the honor?’ he asks with a small smile as Natasha follows, laughing. 

In a few minutes, the dance floor is full of people, some of them dancing, some of them trying to, some of them just having fun. At some point Bradley and Kira split up and they’re either trading partners with other couples, dancing for a few beats, then giving them back or walking around the tables inviting people to dance with them, offering guidance and praise. 

Jake watches Bradley pick up a blushing lieutenant in a yellow sundress. She’s young and beautiful, her blonde hair shining under the stage lights, her dress matching the yellow pattern on Bradley’s shirt. They stay at the edge of the dance floor, avoiding most of the dancers, while he puts his hands around her waist to sway with her to the beat, showing her the moves. She’s a natural, pliant to his guidance, picking up some of the more elaborate moves easily. 

Jake doesn’t want to look but doesn’t want to look away. He can’t get enough of Bradley in his element, eyes shining with joy, so present in his body, enjoying every moment. There’s something so special in seeing a huge buff man, so masculine and strong, moving his body in such a soft and sensual way, not being afraid of showing this side of himself to the whole world. Enjoying it, living for it.

Jake stands up and heads to the bar. There’s only this many doubts attacking his own identity that he can survive sober. So he asks for a whiskey, gulps it down, and then asks for another one. He heads back to the table only to find out that all of the rest of his friends snuck out to avoid being dragged onto the dance floor too.

He’s about to follow their lead when an amused voice stops him in his tracks: ‘You don’t dance unless it’s mandatory?’ And it’s Bradley standing in front of him, sweaty and hot and joyful and so alive. 

Jake shoots a look over Bradley’s shoulder, searching for that pretty blonde and finds her awkwardly dancing with one of the officers from her table. He feels a whisper of satisfaction pass through his gut. 

He puts the glass of whiskey to his lips as to show he has better things to do. 

Bradley tracks the movement with his eyes but otherwise keeps his face as close to neutral as his default smirk allows, waiting for an answer. 

‘I was told maneuvering my own body was not one of my finest skills. I’d rather not endanger anyone,’ he says with a sly smile. And Bradley laughs at that.

‘That was a very unprofessional thing for me to say,’ he says, pulling a face that’s probably supposed to be apologetic but doesn’t really pass for it. ‘Allow me to fix that,’ he adds, offering Jake his hand. ‘To show you I was wrong.’

Jake looks at his hand, waiting in the air between their bodies, perplexed. His mind goes hazy and his chest tight. He looks around the place, all the different couples dancing. They’re not just married couples. They’re groups of friends and even single people dancing. He can see there are two girls twirling each other, having fun, just a few steps away. At the other end of the dance floor, there are two waiters shimmying to the beat, empty trays high in the air, laughing. 

But that’s different. Isn’t it.

It’s different because they can do that. 

It’s different because they’re just having fun. 

It’s different because it doesn’t mean anything. 

But it would mean something if Jake danced with Bradley.

Maybe not to anyone else. Maybe they would see what he sees when he looks at the other couples - people simply having fun, dancing and laughing and enjoying their evening. 

But it would mean something to him. 

It would mean lowering his guard down, it would mean digging into the rawest part of his heart just to bruise. To catch a glimpse of what could be. Just to have it crushed under the soles of his own feet.  

He tears his eyes off the dance floor. Bradley is still there, watching him intently, waiting. Though it doesn’t really feel like he’s still waiting for the same answer. Maybe the question has changed while Jake was quiet. Maybe Jake was the one who changed the question with his silence. He doesn’t know. 

‘That… doesn’t feel appropriate,’ he stammers, saying the only thing that feels loud and clear in his head. Loud and clear in his father’s voice.

Bradley frowns at that, confused and if Jake had anything left in him, he’d say hurt. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t. And he doesn’t care. He can’t care. So he turns on his heel and leaves. 

[pollyna]

The first kiss they share is in a corner of the Layton after hours and hours of celebrating. The kiss lasts no more than a few seconds because there's someone calling Mav's name, and the man is already looking that way, maybe to answer their shipmate. But Ice wants the kiss to go on for just a little longer, so he closes his hands around Mav's faces (and Mav can't help but think he has really soft hands for someone in their line of work) and they stay there, looking at each other for a few moments before they are kissing again.

(It becomes their thing, Ice's hands caressing Mav's cheeks or just touching them while the kiss. Mav's attention is all on Ice, and Ice can kiss him for as long as he wants. It gets to be their thing so much that it happens even when Ice is sleepy and hadn't his morning share of cuddles. It particularly happens a morning where Ice comes down for breakfast, Mav is talking with somebody Ice has no care for in that moment, and he just hugs Mav against his chest and shsh whomever the fuck is talking at six in the fucking morning on Sunday and he kisses Mav, just a pec because one of his hands find his way in Mav's hair and the other one on his cheek and then they are kissing, slowly and softly, Mav's back against the kitchen counter and no hurry in Ice's mind. When they are done, two or ten minutes later, Ice leaves one last kiss on his husband's lips before mumbling something about getting back to bed and that Mav should come with him. Around them is just silence but, once again, Ice doesn't a fuck because it's too early and he wants to sleep and be cuddle, damn.)

[wasyno]

I drew America's ass(hole)