#top gun: maverick with lee

[writingbylee]

Hangman and the Wasp pt. 1

this used to exist only in my head but @gotomarvelgal enabled me so then it existed in our texts and now here we are

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!OC!Pilot

Rating: Mature (that means 18+ ONLY!) (Clicking the "Keep Reading" signifies that you are above 18 years old!)

cross-posted to ao3

Word Count: 1.4k

CW/TW: hand job, fingering, general sex related thinking, cursing

OC's callsign is Wasp

Wasp is over Hangman being a little bitch about everything, so she corners him alone after training one day and shoves her finger in his face and calls him a little bitch because “Jesus Bagman, the slightest bit of competition and you turn into a whiny toddler?” and “I’ve been watching you take girls home every night from the bar, so clearly you’re not frustrated. What the fuck is up with you?”

Hangman gets right back in her face with “I haven’t taken a single girl home for the past two weeks– I’ve been walking them outside and then telling them goodbye,” and Wasp rolls her eyes and calls bullshit and Hangman gets even closer to her face and then Wasp almost feels like she’s losing, like she’s not in charge of the moment anymore, and then Hangman starts to say something and Wasp realizes that he’s about to say some shit about feelings and emotions and she can’t do that right now. 

So she shuts him up in the only way she can think of– or the only way she wants to– she kisses him. And, well, Hangman was not expecting that. He starts kissing her back almost immediately and then Wasp is the one against a wall and Hangman is holding her face in both his hands and she decides that she has to do something– anything– to get this stupid feeling out of her system cause if she just fucks him once, then she’ll scratch the itch, and then she’ll be fine. 

Hangman’s got her against the wall and he’s crowding her in and he’s all she can see or feel anymore and then he’s got one of his hands down the front of her pants, and honestly it should be illegal how quickly he finds her clit over her underwear, but he does and she moans into his mouth. She hears him laugh and she knows he’s gonna say some cocky bullshit. So she cuts that off real quick by shoving her hand down his pants. 

She doesn’t bother with teasing like Hangman– she bypasses his sweatpants and his boxers and drags her hand up slowly so that when she looks down, she can see the head of his cock peeking out from his waistband. Her mouth goes dry and she swipes her thumb across the head of it and spreads around the liquid leaking out of it and she wants his cock. She wants to feel him, to taste him, to get him inside of her; common sense be damned. 

But then she remembers, and she brings herself back to the task at hand. She jerks him again and his fingers have stopped moving, which is a shame really, and she thinks he might not be breathing anymore. So she looks up at him and his head is leaned back and his eyes are closed and he’s muttering something under his breath, but she decides to ignore it in favor of continuing to stroke his cock. Her other hand comes up and dips underneath his shirt to feel his abs jumping under her fingertips and she scoffs at him. He looks down at her with a raised eyebrows, so she puts a challenge in her eyes and in her voice so he won’t know how affected she is by him and whispers, 

“Quit holding back.” He moans at that and she can’t help but smirk at the power she holds over him as he starts fucking up into her hand. His forehead falls to hers and he takes his free hand and grabs her chin and kisses her again– wilder and harder than before and then his fingers start moving again, thank god, and she has to hold back a whimper at how good it feels– his warm fingers shoving her underwear aside, swiping through her folds and circling her clit. His hand moves lower and he pushes two fingers into her; she’s so wet and warm that there’s no resistance. She curses into his mouth and starts jerking him in tandem with his hips. 

Because she’ll be damned if she comes first; she’ll be damned if she lets him beat her in this. They’re still kissing, but it’s more like sharing the same breath. He curses and she holds back a moan. She honestly shouldn’t be surprised that they’re competing in this; they compete in everything. She can feel his frustration as he slows down his own hips to focus on fucking her with his fingers faster and she’s not about to let him win that easily, so she strokes him harder and tries not to focus on his three fingers now fucking up into her with his thumb rubbing circles into her clit. 

She feels his fingers falter inside her and she knows– she can tell that he’s so close; that he’s holding back because he wants to make her come first, so she does the one thing she can think of to finish this before her own orgasm wreaks havoc. Her free hand wraps around the back of his neck and she pulls away from his mouth and breathes one word into the air between them, 

“Jake,” and that does it– his fingers stop moving as he fucks up into her hand once, twice, and then comes. It drips down her fingers as she strokes him through it and then he’s leaning against her; his forehead on hers as he rests his weight against the wall that she’s pushed up against. His fingers have slipped out of her and his hand is resting in her underwear, not even touching her anymore, just resting against her. She pulls her hand out of his pants and looks him in the eye as she cleans his cum off her fingers. 

“Fuck,” He mutters and pushes his fingers back into her with renewed focus and she swears as her fingers fall out of her mouth to grip the fabric of his shirt. It doesn’t take much before she comes. He's kissing her soundly and swallowing all the noises she makes before she can even make them. His fingers slow inside her as she feels her walls flutter around them. His thumb rubs against her clit gently, guiding her through it until she can’t take it anymore. Until she grabs his annoyingly muscled forearm, and pulls his hand out of her pants. He looks her in the eye as he cleans her come off of his fingers, and it takes every ounce of military training she’s ever had to not drag him to her bunk and ride him until the sun comes up. 

Jake– cause that’s who he feels like now, Jake, not Hangman– pulls his fingers out of his mouth and Wasp braces herself for the snarky comment she assumes is coming, but he doesn’t say anything. He grabs her chin with his hand again and kisses her softly; softer than she knew he was capable of. She gives in just this once and kisses him back; one hand tugging on the front of his shirt and the other one curling into the wispy hairs at the back of his neck. They stay like that- against a wall in a dark hallway with their mouths moving slowly against each other- for a few more seconds. 

Wasp knows she has to pull away– has to crack a joke– has to pretend that this didn’t mean anything, that she’s just horny– that he was just there– that he didn’t just turn her world upside down, but somehow also made everything face the right direction for the first time in her life. She drops her hand from his neck and lets go of his shirt and tries to pretend that she’s not slightly proud of his ruffled appearance. She takes a deep breath and makes eye contact with him. He's tucked himself back into his boxers and is looking at her with an emotion in his eyes that she’d rather not face right now. 

“Thanks for that, Hangman.” She says nonchalantly, impressing herself with the aloofness in her voice. Hangman’s eyes widen and then squint. He opens his mouth to say something, but Wasp breezes past him with more calm than she feels as she tosses “We should do it again sometime,” over her shoulder as she turns the corner before her own emotions get the better of her.

tagging people who asked/might like (sorry in advance if this isn't your thing!): @gotomarvelgal @spidervee

[lesbiradshaw]

instagram shenanigans - dagger edition

[shadowsndaisies]

the athena-verse

so far, it's just a series of random ficlets and blurbs introducing the world and the top.

let's talk athena:

athena; the preamble - (6.24.24) athena at a glance, basically

hangman meets 'thena - (9.17.24) word is, there's a new pilot on board carrier air wing nine, and she flies for the VFA-14, the Tophatters.

top gun: maverick

the recall

the hard deck:

01: too observant to play dumb - (7.16.24) how the arrival at the hard deck went

02: slow ride - (7.16.24) a glimpse through jake's eyes

03: athena, meet rooster - (7.16.24) I think the title says it all

athena settles debts - (6.21.24) what if Mav’s daughter settled his tab that night in the hard deck

dogfighting 101 (and then some): "so, today we start with what you only think you know."

01: let's make it interesting: (08.29.24) harvard is a good friend (and petty on your behalf)

02: rock and roll: (08.30.24) It's been a long time since I rock and rolled, It's been a long time since I did the stroll, Ooh let me get it back, let me get it back, Let me get it back, baby, where I come from

03: clear mind, clear skies: (09.01.24) tempers are rising

04: 'nix is sick of this shit: (09.03.24) phoenix prides herself on knowing almost everything pertinent, it's the parts she doesn't know that leaves her on edge.

05: sugar and spice: (09.06.24) hangman leaves everyone hanging... right?

06: dead and buried: (09.08.24) if it wouldn't result in a court martial or a dishonorable discharge, you probably would punch that stupid mustache off his face.

canyon runs: take one

iceman's final flight - (7.1.24) ice's funeral, as you can imagine, is painful and heartwrenching

...

athena-verse taglist (currently open. last updated 9/17/24)

@omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @whoismurphyslaw @kee-0-kee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @thespillingvoid @youdontknowe @burningcoffeecupp @mrsevans90

[themissingmango]

’The hell kinda mission is this?

[forsty]

TOP GUN: MAVERICK Poster based on this poster for The Hobbit

ALL 13 PILOTS + HONDO

[mrslectermoriarty]

Headcanon Series #20

I need the Daggers to have a TikTok Account, hear me out!

Coyote: "Were the Daggers, of course we look amazing in our flight suits." He does a twirl and strikes a pose. Applause behind the camera.

Cut to Halo: "Were the Daggers, of course we managed to get good callsigns." In the background someone yells “Fuck off, Egg White!”. Halo gives the camera a pointed look. “We definetly good the good call signs.”

Cut to Fanboy: "Were the Daggers, of course our CO is the Navy's greatest pilot." He holds up a picture of Maverick lying on the ground, he stumbled over his open shoelaces. “But seriously. He is.”

Cut to Fritz: "We're the Daggers, of course we've been at least once at Top Gun." The camera zooms out, so we can see the base he’s standing in front of. He does a thumbs up. “Crazy place!”

Cut to Hangman: "We’re the Daggers, of course we're the best of the best." Rooster in the background gives him the finger. Hangman doesn’t see it. Chuckling behind the camera. “What’s so funny?”

Cut to Phoenix: "We're the Daggers, of course we blackmail each other with embarassing photos." Bob is sitting in the background. He looks up into the camera and gives it a serious nod.

Cut to Omaha: "We're the Daggers, of course we look back at our academy days in shame." Fritz walks by and grimaces.

Cut to Payback, in a bar: "We're the Daggers, of course we loose a shit ton of money to each other when we play pool at the hard deck. Well, some of us." He smirks. Groaning behind the camera.

Cut to Bob: "We're the Daggers, of course we have a group chat." His phone lights up and he shows the screen to the camera. We see a group chat that gets new messages every couple seconds. “Guys? You know we’re all on the same base right now? We can actually talk to each other.”

Cut to Yale, it’s night by now and he’s standing in front of a dimly lit house in otherwise darkness. There’s whispering in the background. "We're the Daggers, of course we continue the tradition of raiding the CO's liquor stack."

Cut to Harvard, inside of a house. Looks like a living room. Everyone is standing in the middle of the room and shouting; it’s loud. Harvard looks bewildered. "We're the Daggers, of course our CO is married to an Admiral and didn't tell us about it. He also didn't tell us about one of us being his legal child." Cut to the zoomed in background where we can see a blurry figure standing in a corner with a glass in its hand. Cut to Harvard, now in selfie mode and close to his face. He whispers: “That’s the fucking COMPACFLT.”

Cut to Rooster in the same living room. He has a small, awkward smile on his face while Phoenix stands a bit behind him and looks pissed. "We're the Daggers, of course it never gets boring with us around, I guess." Hangman sneaks into the frame, kisses Rooster and runs away, yelling something like “it never does”. Rooster stands there, too stunned to speak. Behind the camera: “Wait, did he just-“

Cut to Maverick sitting in a comfortable looking armchair, elbows on his knees and a beer in his hands. He’s laughing into the camera and speaks with a soft voice: "They're my Daggers and of course they’re family." “No no no, you’re supposed to say- what, did you just call us family? Guys, Mav just called us his family!” Happy shouting erupts in the background and Maverick is being group-hugged by several aviators around him. The camera shakes and the video ends.

Beautiful inspiration, I must say…

[wwemcumuscleslover]

Introduce too the Summers Brothers according to my dream Fancast

Jesse Lee soffer as Scott Summers/ Cyclops

Glen Powell as Alex Summers/ Havok

I mean Marvel need to understand that the Summers Siblings must look like Damm gods and deadly handsome

[callsign-daydream]

Harvard: At my age, do you know how I’m statistically most likely to die? Yale: At the hands of your roommate. Harvard: No, I mean like an accident. Yale: That’s what I’m gonna make it look like.

[topgunincolor]

Top Gun in Color Event Sign-up!

Ready to celebrate Top Gun characters of color? Have a Fanback fic idea brewing? Always imagined there was a little more going on between Javy and Jake? Think Hondo needs a little TLC? This event is for you! 

This is a POC-focused Top Gun event. Fic, art, and other creations are welcome. All creations must focus on at least one character who is a POC. The work may be romantic, platonic, or a single-character study.

The minimum word count for fic is 500 words and the minimum contribution for art is a black and white sketch.

Sign-ups run through March 17th at 10 pm ET and submissions will be published to the collection May 3rd - May 6th.

SIGN UP HERE!

Rules & Schedule

Looking for resources on writing/drawing characters of color? Check out some resources here. 

This event is hosted by Storm (enthyrea) and Saturn (icemav86).

[spankmespence]

i think abt this scene so often.

[lesbiradshaw]

(even more) dagger squad tweets

[shadowsndaisies]

iceman's final flight

WC: 3.3k

synopsis: ice's funeral, as you can imagine, is painful and heartwrenching

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the brain rot my friends is absolutely insane.

You never liked wearing your full-service dress uniform. The whites meant shipping off, and the blacks always seemed so morose. And wearing it for Tom Kazansky's funeral, well, it was difficult to even get it on. Honestly, if Jake hadn't knocked on your door, you're not sure you would've been able to do it.

But he did.

He stood, fully dressed, and didn't say anything when he saw you still in your pajamas. Simply squeezed into your barrack and directed you to the shower. When you came out, he had your service dress laid out on your bed. he waited, back turned while you put them on, and then sat you down and did your hair. You focused on him while he did. The careful movements, the gentle brushes. You knew he had a sister, but this was much more of Jake than of Hangman.

He didn't ask you about it, even though you know he probably wanted to. He knew that your dad had been close with Ice; they'd been in the same Top Gun class, and that was all he needed to know for now.

So he helped you get ready.

He gave you a protein bar because he knew you wouldn't eat anything otherwise; quite frankly, you weren't sure you could stomach even that, but he patiently waited, watching, making sure you ate something. The blank look in your eyes was alarming because in the years he'd known you now, he'd seen your eyes get glassy with nostalgia, sadness, and heartbreak. He's witnessed the fire from anger, ferocity, and challenge; he's melted at your softness, your light; and been in awe of your mischievous streak, and cunning mind. He's never seen this, though, the blank dis-attached expression.

He guided you to the atrium where the rest of the recalled aviators were meeting before you'd all participate in the procession to the burial site. Hand pressed to your back, as you seemed to disassociate with everything around you.

Your dad was already on site when you arrived. Staring at the photo of Ice, and while he looked every inch the PACFLEET Commander that he was, you much preferred the collection of photos that you had. Polaroids and film shots from you as a toddler on his shoulders or in his lap, the collection that grew with each of your father's deployments spent in his home, of barbecues and beach days. This man helped raise you. He filled in the role of father when yours was on a deployment. He signed permission slips and stayed up with you that first night of every deployment when you were too anxious to sleep.

Goose had been your godfather, the one who you would go to if something ever happened to Mav, and then Goose was the one who was gone. And Mav changed the papers. He changed it because how could he place that pressure on Carole when she's battling her heartbreak and raising Bradley? Ice and Sarah were the ones who would assume you if he took his last flight before you were old enough to take care of yourself.

When your dad spotted you, he waved you over. You felt Jake's hand at your back reassuringly before you left the rest of the team.

Approaching your dad, you notice who is next to him, and you have to fight to not break down at the sight of Aunt Sarah.

"Ma'am," your voice cracked as you stood at attention.

There were tears in her eyes as she looked at you, "Stop, no," she corrected, arm grabbing you. "You're our girl, remember? I don't want Ma'am's, not from you, never from you," her whispers bring more tears to your eyes, and your vision swims as you try to breathe through it.

"Lieutenant Mitchell," you straighten at Cyclone's voice and turn to him. "A word before we begin," he calls, and you nod. "Apologies, Mrs. Kazansky, for the interruption.”

You squeeze Aunt Sarah's hand before walking over to the Vice Admiral, "Yes Sir," you respond, standing at attention.

"The Kazansky family has made a request," he begins, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Sir?" you ask.

"Mrs. Kazansky, has indicated that following the conclusion of TAPS, she would like the flag presented to her children," he explains.

"I'm sorry, Sir. But it was my understanding that you would be presenting the flag?" you finally ask, though your voice lacks its normal luster.

"In his instructions, Tom Kazansky requested that you present the flag to his family, Lieutenant," Cyclone says, and you freeze.

He did what?

Your eyes meet the Vice Admirals, and you're not sure how to react or what to say.

"Do you accept this final order from former PACFLEET Commandar Tom Kazansky, Lieutenant?" he presses when you stay silent too long.

"Sir, yes, Sir," you affirm.

"Good. You will honor his flag, Lieutenant, assume your position," he nods to the space where you assumed he would have been, but you nod your head in affirmation.

"Yes, Sir," you repeat.

He nods once more, a look in his eyes, but doesn't say anything else, instead walking away. You took a moment to breathe, then you turned and assumed the position across from Cyclone. Your eyes focused for a moment on the coffin in front of you. The resting place for the man who helped raise you. You swallowed the lump in your throat again and then assumed a position at attention. You made eye contact with your dad, who nodded at you with glassy eyes, with Natasha, who offered a sad smile in support, with Jake, whose expression was nearly unreadable but whose eyes were focused entirely on you, and finally with Bradley, who looked like he was in a similar boat, keeping back tears and swallowing the distress in his throat. He was so much bigger, so much older than when his mom passed, but his tells hadn't changed all that much. You focus on him for a moment, and despite the rift, the still uneven footing you both have with each other, there's something there in this moment, brought on by the man who loved you both the way he loved his own kids.

When TAPS began, a chill went down your spine, a finality of what it all meant settled over you, and a tear escaped. You sniffed but remained silent. Warlock was on your left, and Cyclone was across you. You followed the motions, folded the flag, and when the ends were tucked in, you approached Aunt Sarah. She nodded with a sad smile, and you continued, stopping beside Ryan and Elizabeth. Ryan and Elizabeth, who had been your younger siblings, who you love so much, and who you used to play with in their playpens. Ryan and Elizabeth who were both married with their own kids now. They looked so incredibly sad, but as they stared at you, Elizabeth started shaking her head like she couldn't believe this was happening. And when you held out your hands, flag proffered. Ryan's hands clenched, but he waited for Elizabeth. When he looked at you for help, you cast a sideways glance at Aunt Sarah, who was crying silently now.

"Lizzie," you whisper, and Ryan's eyes blow wide.

Talking was not a part of the process, especially informally, not when presenting honors to a grieving family, but this was your family, too.

"Lizzie, take the flag," you whisper again, and this time she meets your eyes, and you nod encouragingly at her. "Take the flag, kid," you repeat, and this time, she uses one hand to hold her brothers as she accepts the flag. Ryan's other hand supports it, and if you squeeze his hand gently as you hand it off, no one else needs to realize it except him.

You step back and salute the Kazansky family, and your father steps up to do his part. His wingman until the end, you watched, arm still raised, as your father approached the head of the casket and placed the aviation wings at the head, pounding it into the casket.

His final flight.

The sound of the pin pounded in place and echoed in your ears long after the jets of salute and the sound of TAPS.

When it was over, and the civilians began to walk away, you moved to fall in line with the aviators. A space had appeared beside Bradley and Hondo. You swallowed as you stepped into it. You could feel his eyes on you as you did.

When the call for dismissal was stated, your whole body seemed to sag a bit, tired, strung out, and heartbroken.

"(Y/n)-" Bradley's the one who said your name so softly, so broken, that you almost caved. You almost caved and launched yourself at him the way you would have in the past.

Almost.

Because Ryan and Elizabeth were walking straight up to you at the same time, calling you with a wavering, "Miss Mitchell," the tone nearly reminiscent of when you were kids.

"Kid Kazansky," you greet in kind, matching his tone.

"Is it bad form to hug you now?" Elizabeth asks though she doesn't really wait; instead, she lunges at you.

You rock back a bit and feel Bradley's arm steady you before it retreats.

"Never bad form for a Lizzie hug," you whisper, and she sobs a little.

"Bradley?" Ryan's surprise is evident as he stares at the man beside you. His eyes jumped at you and then Bradley like he couldn't figure out the puzzle before him, not that you blamed him; you were having a hard time, too.

"Wait, Brad?" Lizzie asks, turning to catch as Ryan and Brad shake hands.

"You two grew up," he notes sadly.

"Well you'd know-" you pinch at Lizzie's side, she had a smart mouth, something Ice and Sarah liked to blame on you, but now was not the time, and this was not the place.

Elizabeth huffed but stepped aside to stare at Bradley, and he stood and took it while Ryan stepped up and hugged you. If he squeezed tight, you squeezed back, and when he pulled back, you could see today's toll on him.

The Kazansky kids have been prepared for this day from the moment Ice was diagnosed, maybe even earlier when you consider all the deployments, but just because it was a possibility, the reality of it was painful to experience and to witness.

"Mom wants to know if you're able to come to dinner tonight, she said to add she's not afraid to pull the grieving widow card," Ryan asks, and you smile ruefully.

"I-" you begin, but Lizzie cuts in.

"We understand, though, if it won't work," she reassures you. "Dad mentioned some special detachment as the reason you were back for a bit," she admits.

"Time sensitive and top secret," Ryan supplies, and you frown at them.

"When'd you two get so smart?" you ask with a frown, bringing a small watery chuckle out of Aunt Sarah, who'd finally walked over herself.

"Probably around the same time you did, sweetheart," she says gently, taking your face in her hands.

"I am so proud of you," she begins, and the tears reappear in an instant.

"Aunt Sarah-" you try to stop her, all too aware of how the rest of the detachment is unabashed in witnessing this moment.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Lieutenant Mitchell, but I am even more proud of (Y/n)," she begins again. "And he was too. He was so, so proud of you. And folding the flag, it was unfair of him to ask that of you, but I am so proud of you and so grateful that it was you handing it off, holding his honor," she says, and you break.

A sob slips past your lips, and she pulls you forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, mindful of your cap. "I will see you at dinner, Lieutenant. It's perfectly alright if you're late. We've spent a lifetime on the Navy's clock; we can last another day," she says finally, and you nod. "Good, bring your dad," she adds as an afterthought.

"Yes, Aunt Sarah," you nod.

"Good girl," she smiles again, still holding your face, and when she lets go, she straightens your coat, just like she did after hugging you at your graduation. She finally looks down the line at the aviators standing nearby. She starts with Bradley, directly on your left, "You too Bradley Bradshaw, I expect to see you at dinner, and I demand one song, any song," she says forcefully, staring hard until he nods his affirmation at her, lips sealed shut.

She looks down the line; you know she recognizes Yale and Harvard from when you were in Top Gun originally; the two had become your guests for poker nights and barbecues. She turns back to you, "Bring all twelve of them," she finally decides, and you hear the intake of breath beside you.

"Aunt Sarah-" you begin.

"Let's teach them who he really was, huh?" she says softly, and you nod.

"Yes, Ma'am," you agree.

She smiles, tapping your cheek one last time before turning to her kids. Each loops an arm with her, and they walk back toward their cars. The second they're away, you sag fully, all but ripping your cap off, breathing too fast; you know you are.

Bradley reaches for you first, but you flinch away, and he freezes. Nat's calling your name, and the rest of the team is lining up around you protectively. The first set of eyes you meet are green. Jake. Slowly, he shows you his hands, and one starts at your shoulder, skims down your arm, and takes your hand, pulling it into his chest.

"C'mon, 'Thena," he whispers softly, "five senses," he adds, and you nod jerkily.

Five things you can see: green eyes, Jake's ribbons, Bradley still hovering beside you, the grass, the jet trail in the sky

four things you can touch: Jake's dress shirt, the cufflink of Jake's coat, his hand, which is holding yours in place, the chain of your dog tags around your neck.

Three things you can hear: distant chattering of all the funeral attendees, Jake's gentle affirmations, Hondo on the phone

Two things you can smell: Bradley's cologne, the fresh dirt, and topsoil.

One thing you can taste is blood from where you'd bitten your lip during the ceremony.

You take a staggering breath at the end and let go of Jake, who straightens beside you and waits for your next move. He allows you a moment to continue evening out your breathing.

"Two feet on the ground, right?" he asks.

"Copy, you," you confirm.

He nods, satisfied by your response.

You finally look around at how the team had shuffled to keep you out of sight from anyone else. Yale and Harvard are sending you concerned glances as they stand guard.

"I'm fine," you tell them, waving off the concern. "I'm fine, it was just too much, at once, but, I'm fine," you say, readjusting your cap back on your head.

"Maybe you should take a minute, Athena," Bradley cuts in.

"I said I'm fine," you negate.

"Just take a breath! Do your box breathing-"

"Box breathing? Are you serious Bradley?" your tone finally loses the flat edge it's had all morning, giving way to incredulity. To his credit, his eyes blew wide at it. "Box breathing hasn't worked since I started pulling Gs regularly," you scoff. "I said, I'm fine!"

"You don't look fine!" he argues, the two of you facing off across each other now.

"And how would you know?" you challenge, voice dropping back to a reasonable level, but suddenly so cold. "How could you possibly know what fine looks like for me now?"

He freezes again; it's a direct dig, more so than any of the wave-offs you've done when he tries to talk to you since you both got reassigned.

"If Athena says she's fine, then she's fine. I'd take her at her word any day," Harvard cuts in, and you look at your friend gratefully.

"Seconded, c'mon, we can give you a lift back to base," Yale agrees, and you nod.

You spare another glance back, focusing on Jake. He nods at you, though you can see the concern in his eyes, and you nod again, turning and walking in line with Harvard and Yale.

"My saviors," you whisper to them.

"It's a hard day, and the absolute least we could do," Harvard offers.

"You're getting softer with age, Brigham," you chirp, but there's no heat behind it.

"Speaking of soft," Yale hedges, and you side-eye Logan. "Hangman knows about your anxiety attacks?"

"Not only does he know, he knows how to talk you down," Harvard supplies.

"Don't," you warn them.

"Today is hard, we know. We know it's going to be hard for a long time," Harvard back peddles.

"We just… we wanna look out for you Athena, you always did for us, you still do," Yale clarifies. "Look, Hangman's a cocky bastard-"

"I believe Phoenix was the one to coin the term Texan Douchewad," Harvard supplies.

"But," Yale sends his WSO a look, "it's obvious, he's different with you."

You were content to ignore the prodding, but Harvard stopped, handing over the passenger seat door. He planed to open it for you but pauses and holds out a hand.

"Just hold on a second, please," Harvard asks when you start glaring at him. You huff but pause. "Look, today… today sucks, but seeing him help you makes him suck slightly less in my book. You're the only person he didn't ditch during the dogfights. We assumed he was brown-nosing because Mav's your dad, but obviously there's more there. Ice was… he was so much more than PACFLEET Commander to you, we know that. We've seen what you and he were like together. I consider myself really fucking lucky that you trusted us enough to share that shit with us, and clearly Hangman knows it too, but he hasn't made a single Nepo-Baby joke the entire detachment," he lines out, and when you drop his gaze, he sighs.

"Athena, we learned day fucking one at Top Gun that you are a force and a half, we have always got your back, we just… we need to know the play is, that's all," Yale tags on.

You lift your gaze and stare at the two; Brigham and Logan were the only Aviator/WSO team that got recalled. Payback and Fanboy hadn't worked together before, nor Phoenix and Bob, or even Fritz and Halo, just them. You're stuck on how well they know each other for a second, and you are so glad they got called back, too.

"The play.. the playbook is on fire," you admit, and they share a nervous glance. "It's in a fucking dumpster fire, with jet fuel poured on top," you tell them, and they wince. "But, the plan is we go back to base, we finish the day, we go to dinner. I'll probably cry my fucking eyes out, so hopefully, one of you will bring tissues, and then tomorrow we go back to work because Ice died, but the clock doesn't stop, and he'd be pissed if I let Jake or Bradley make Team Leader over me," you huff out.

It hurts so much because his phrasing would have been over my dead body will you let cocky aviators walk over you, but he is dead.

You just buried his body.

That doesn't change the point, Kiddo.

Your heart clenches at the response because it even sounds like Ice.

Ice cold, no mistakes, the voice continues.

"Ice cold, no mistakes," you repeat softly.

"Then that's the play," Brigham nods, finally opening the door for you.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891

[tickle-bugs]

Pre-Flight Checks

@allytheally: hi :) here's a prompt: you reblogged this thing a while ago about the seatbelts on aircraft (one on the shoulder, waist, and individual ones for the thighs) (https://www.tumblr.com/tickle-bugs/715247149506609152/hey-there-i-work-with-fighter-jets-super-hornets?source=share) and I think it'd be great if you wrote something incorporating this idea... like maybe lee!hangman and ler!rooster or lee!mav and ler!iceman and/or ler!slider? honestly any pairing would be cool

“Gooooood mornin’, Rooster.” The heavy impacts of boots on the stepladder send Bradley’s eye twitching. Hangman’s presence has a volume the way bright light slowly wears on the eyes.

“What do you want?” 

“Me? I just came over to help with your pre-flight checks.” Hangman grins, cocksure. A sliver of sunshine lights up his eyes over the edge of his aviators. 

“I’m clear, but thanks.” Bradley gives a little ‘shoo’ motion with his hands. 

“Lemme give it a second opinion.” Hangman hoists himself up to get a better view of the cockpit. He makes a big show of scanning over the switches and buttons and humming in thought. 

“Knock yourself out.” Bradley snorts and turns away. Hangman’s indecipherable muttering falls easily away under the buzz of his brain. He double and triple checks everything, noting the feel of each switch and knob under his practiced hands. Finding the rhythm of his plane is half the ritual.

Wiggling fingers fit suddenly into the curve of Bradley’s waist and he barks out a laugh, knees jerking against the straps holding him. 

He blinks at Hangman. Hangman grins at him. 

“Don’t--” Bradley dives to grab his hands, but the seatbelts, ever-dutiful, wrench him back into place. 

“Oh, now that sounds like you’ve got somethin’ loose. No pilot should be making that noise.” Hangman tuts, but he doesn’t stop, just lets his stupid hands do their stupid crawl across his stupidly sensitive stomach. Bradley lets out a giggly shriek and tries to fold in half. 

“Oh, Mav wasn’t kidding. This is my lucky day.”

“Youuuu--” Whatever half-baked insult Bradley was aiming for is smothered by his own laughter. 

“Meeeee. Say, are you ticklish anywhere else? Gotta catalogue this for future use. Scream once for yes or twice for no.” Hangman tazes his sides and Bradley’s voice cracks around his laughter.

He’s going to die in this plane. He better die in this plane, otherwise he’s going to gut Hangman like a fish.

…No, he won’t. 

Bradley manages to plant his hand square on Hangman’s face and start pushing, and the ultimatum between continuing the torment or falling onto concrete makes Hangman finally, blessedly let go. 

“Seems like everything’s in order. Pleasant skies, Rooster.” Hangman pats his shoulder and hops down out of sight. 

In his mind’s eye, he’s shaking Hangman by the shoulders until his brain falls out of his ears. In practice, he’s turning his burning face and shy half-smile back towards the controls with hopes of killing both.

…

“Mornin’, Bradshaw.” Hangman pops up like a gopher. Bradley jumps and nearly flips his lounge chair. 

“Seresin.” He exhales tightly through his nose. He stays very still—maybe he can still salvage the last throes of the sun-warmed nap he was finding his way towards. 

“You seem tense.” Hangman cocks his head in something that passes for concern. The rushing ocean suddenly sounds more like an omen. 

“There’s no one else around for you to bother right now?” Bradley leans up on his elbows to search for the other Daggers. He can hear Fanboy laughing somewhere, he thinks, but Hangman’s giant head blotting out the sun is the only thing he can see. 

“Nope!” Hangman makes a big show of cracking his knuckles and stretching his fingers. Bradley’s eyes widen. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“You’ll have to be more specific. Don’t what?” The expression that Hangman generates overshoots innocence by a country mile. 

“Tickle me, you asshole.” Bradley winds an arm around his torso and scrambles up in his lounge chair. The fluttery kick of anticipation slaps a smile straight across his face. 

“I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“Fell for--”

Bradley pauses as it dawns on him. Watching it dawn on Hangman is worse--his entire face brightens with mischief. 

Bradley starts stammering through a protest and giggling through another, but Hangman’s kneeling over him before any of it becomes coherent. He flails hard enough to send them both tumbling into the sand. Never in his life has he been more grateful to be alone, if only to keep the pitch of his laughter between him and the menace causing it.

He makes a note to keep his shirt on at the beach. 

…

Maybe a week or so of this puts Bradley in a…strange headspace. Distracted. 

Touch is nice, but there’s more of it lately, enough to make him notice and crave its absence in a way he hadn’t before. When Phoenix leans into his side or Fanboy claps his shoulder, he misses the warmth of their touch after. Even Hangman’s utter nonsense sets a gentle buzz into his chest. It’s dizzying. 

He’s so lost in the ache of it that Mav catches on, and it kicks solidly into that tangle of ‘complicated shit’ between them that he keeps putting away for increasingly rainer days. He’d gotten so used to Mav tiptoeing around him as if he were fragile that the first gentle touch on the shoulder almost shatters him. 

The Daggers meet for a barbecue at Mav’s and Bradley shows up early with a bottle of Ice’s favorite Pinot. Things may be complicated, but the mushy smiles on Ice and Mav’s faces are not. It’s nice, putting ‘complicated’ in motion towards being something else. Something lighter. 

Later into the night, Bradley’s got his feet kicked up on the couch in the hangar and the radio crooning slowly in his ear. 

He watches Mav and Ice dance--more of a sway, really, as they banter. Mav’s got a playful tilt to his smile, one that suggests he’s being as much a menace as he’s visibly in love. Bradley smiles and hums along, halfheartedly wondering what Mav might be pestering Ice with.

“This seat taken?” Not waiting for an answer, Hangman picks up his ankles and takes their spot. Bradley brings his heels down hard on his thigh. He gets a swat on the ankle for his trouble. Still, the weight of Hangman’s arm on his legs is comforting. Solid. 

A room full of people to bother, yet Hangman finds him. Hm. 

“Why’re you so obsessed with me lately?” Bradley nudges him with his ankle. Hangman’s eyebrows raise.

Well. He’d meant to say that with a bit more tact but it’s out there now, between them. 

Hangman snorts softly and passes Bradley a beer. He pops the caps on both and pockets them. Probably donations for Coyote’s collection. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bradshaw.” Hangman gives him an utterly complex and unreadable look before taking a swig of his beer. ‘Complex’ and ‘unreadable’ are not words that belong anywhere near him. 

“You didn’t answer the question.” Bradley frowns. 

“It’s a stupid question.” 

“Seresin.” Bradley leans forward to smack his shoulder. 

“Alright, fine.” Hangman exhales tightly. “You’ve been moping around like a dark fuckin’ cloud these past few weeks and we couldn’t figure out how to get you out of it. We ran out of ideas and eventually Mav realized he couldn’t hide from us anymore, so he coughed up a solution. Something he said we could try, and I quote, ‘at risk of your lives’. Never thought he’d suggest tickling, but--”

“You went to Mav?”  

“Yeah, and Mav—“ Hangman imitates the way Bradley’s voice cracks— “told Phoenix to try it if all else failed, she told Bob, Bob told me, and now we’re here. And it worked.”

Bradley’s brain stalls out. He sits up, bracing his elbows on his knees. He drops his face into his hands. 

“Oh my god. So everyone knows?” He peeks through his fingers. Hangman shrugs.

“Well, I don’t think Fanboy was paying much attention.” He scratches idly at his jaw. 

“Mav said if all else failed. I didn’t—you guys didn’t try anything else.” Bradley fiddles with the label on the bottle. 

Hangman raises his eyebrow in the precise shape of ‘oh really?’. 

“Remember when Bob tried to buy you soup? Or when Payback made a fool of himself trying to sing Great Balls of Fire? Or when Fanboy tried to introduce you to Star Trek? Or—“

Oh. 

For maybe the only time in his life, Hangman snaps his jaw shut. Bradley furrows his brow. 

“Look…point is, you keep making that exact face you’ve got right now, and concerned parties asked me to investigate.” Hangman swirls his finger around Bradley’s face. He swats it away on habit, but fondness bubbles in the base of his throat. 

“Concerned parties?” A smile sneaks under his mustache.

“Yeah, Phoenix and the rest of them were worried. Not me though.” Hangman takes a long, incriminating swig from his bottle. 

“Not you?” Bradley tilts his head teasingly.

“Nope. I’m a neutral party. Like Sweden.”

“It’s Switzerland, dumbass.” Bradley knocks shoulders with him. Something about Hangman’s smile tells him he already knew that.

“Sure. Whatever.” Hangman throws his arm across the back of the couch. His fingers brush Bradley’s arm. The fondness settles into a resonant hum deep in Bradley’s chest.

“You’ve got your shit with Mav and your past. I get it. But some of us would like to see you smile more than twice a week.” Hangman gestures with his bottle. His movements are loose in the practiced Seresin way, but the care on his face is stunningly plain. 

“Some of us?” Bradley grins. Hangman narrows his eyes. 

“Concerned parties.” His cheeks grow rosy even as he scowls. 

“You are obsessed with me and I’m telling Phoenix.” Bradley pats his shoulder and makes a break for it. A fist grabs a handful of his collar. 

“Like hell you are!” 

The (thankfully empty) bottles clatter to the floor as Hangman wrestles an already-laughing Bradley back down to the couch. He tries not to think too hard about hearing Mav cheer in the background. 

…

Bradley does not start fights. He does not. He finishes them.

He slips past Phoenix and Bob, nodding in passing, and ducks up to Hangman’s Super Hornet. He can feel their eyes on him--especially Bob, he’s got a killer stare for someone so quiet--but he ignores it. 

It’s not a fight, not really, but if he thinks about what he’s doing too hard he’s going to lock himself in a supply closet somewhere. 

Bradley hops up the steps alongside the cockpit. 

“Rooster! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your ugly mug?” Hangman grins and bats his eyelashes. 

“I heard you were challenging Mav. Wanted to get a good look at you before you spend the rest of the evening with your face to the tarmac.” Rooster holds up his fingers like a picture frame. 

“Try not to miss me too much.” Hangman winks, insufferable as always. 

“Miss you? Every second you’re not buzzing around down here is a second of peace.” Bradley reaches up and knocks on his helmet. 

“Would you kindly get the fuck off my plane?” Hangman swats lazily at him. Bradley bats his hands away. 

“Before you go, just thought I’d see how your pre-flight checks are going?”

Hangman goes rigid. Bradley grins evilly at him.

“Bradshaw, don’t you fuckin’—“ 

Bradley fumbles with Hangman’s hands and flight equipment until he can jam his fingers right into the soft parts of his side. Hangman yelps and nearly jumps out of his skin. The seatbelts ensure there’s nowhere for him to go, and the clacking of the buckles only spurs Bradley on.

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight than this, Hangman.” Bradley tuts and shakes his head, worming his fingers up under straps to get at his ribs. Hangman well and truly shrieks.

“I am g-going to kill you!” Hangman shakes with the force of his laughter, folded awkwardly into his seatbelts. He shoves uselessly at Bradley’s chest. 

“And I’m never gonna let this go. Think I could get you to do that again, or are you a one hit wonder?” Bradley squeezes quickly at Hangman’s thigh. His hands slap down hard on top of Bradley’s and he starts cackling his way to incoherency. 

Bradley raises his eyebrow and times the squeezes to every escape attempt. It’s incredibly entertaining to listen to Hangman reinvent the squeal. He wonders if the other Daggers know about this yet. 

The sound of a throat clearing nearly sends Bradley toppling backwards off the plane. Strong hands heave him upright and he turns--Maverick’s eyes crinkle around the edges of his sunglasses. 

“Appreciate you getting a head start on destroying him, Rooster, but I believe that’s my job.” Mav pats him on the shoulder. Bradley goes to duck away, but Hangman makes a swipe for his sides, and he can’t let that stand. He leans back into the cockpit and tickles Hangman’s ribs until he’s screeching between hiccups and an interesting shade of red. 

“Aren’t you ssssupposed to help me?” Hangman crumples in around Bradley’s hands, wriggling like a worm on a hook. 

“Help you? No. Teach you? Sure. Wheels up in two minutes. Hopefully you’ll learn a thing or two about getting your ass handed to you.” Mav pulls Bradley back by the shoulder. He lets it happen. Hangman thunks his head back against his seat, chest heaving. 

“Bold words, Pops. We’ll see who comes out on top.” He clicks his tongue and winks. Insufferable bastard. 

“See you in the skies, Hangman.” Mav pokes Hangman’s stomach. 

…

The lounge at Top Gun hums with quiet chatter through the evening as the Daggers share drinks. Bradley’s tucked against the wall with Phoenix and Bob under his arms. He’s half watching Fanboy and Payback fumble through a game of pool, half listening to a story Phoenix is telling, and fully content to lose himself in the sound of her voice. 

The door slams open, welcoming a sweaty and disgruntled Hangman to the room. Scattered laughter and teasing applause kicks up among the other Daggers. He gives the entire room the finger. 

“Yeah, laugh it up. I was off my game.” He pushes his hair out of his eyes. Coyote offers him a pity beer. He takes it. 

“I wonder why.” Bradley chuckles. Phoenix swats his chest. Hangman locks eyes with him, absolutely feral. Bradley goes to make a run for it, but Phoenix hooks her arms under his. He could break her grip if he really tried, but…

When Hangman barrels towards him and tackles him over the back of the couch, Bradley can’t say he doesn’t deserve it.

[crazyk-imagine]

You die while they're Working Headcanon

*This is sad but I couldn't resist, it's been in my draft much like... every other thing I want to write

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

Jake

-       He wouldn't know until a couple of hours after he was back on the ground after training

-       He was in the air, acting cocky as all hell

-       It was a normal day like nothing was different

-       Beau was the one to get the call

-       Bradley was the one to tell him

-       And when his frenemy told him about the news, it takes him a couple of minutes before all the information clicks

-       The poor man wouldn't know how to console him or calm Jake as the tears pool in the Texan boys eyes

-       Jake's legs give out and he's going down

-       Bradley catches him and his suit is sticking to him as he lets the man begin grieving

-       No one’s ever seen him this way

-       He was quiet in the sky whenever it was his turn

-       It was hard for him to process but eventually the Hangman everyone knew slowly began to return but the spark in his eye was gone

-       Everyone knew it might not ever come back and felt bad they couldn’t do anything about it

Bradley

-       He had yet to take off

-       Pete got the call

-       Natasha was in the room with him but the older man felt it was his duty to tell his godson

-       She understood and felt the same way

-       Another reason why her best friend didn’t see her that morning

-       Bradley had no idea what Pete was going to tell him

-       Then the words came out and he did nothing

-       The poor boy- he just stood there, unable to move and then came the water works

-       His mustached quivered before he sniffled

-       This is the second worse thing the two men have ever heard and had to deal with in their lives

Bob

-       He wasn't told until the end of the day

-       He had a gnawing feeling in his stomach all day but couldn't put his finger on why

-       Beau got the call

-       No one could figure out who should tell him (out of Beau, Pete, and Bernie)

-       There was no way they were going to drag Natasha into this

-       They didn’t even know if she would be able to tell him because Pete and Bernie know that she introduced the two of you

-       And them talking with the door open was one of the worst things they could have done

-       Bob walked by the door as they were still trying to figure it out and almost lost it right then and there

-       Instead, he was running on his emotions and stormed into the room, demanding answers

-       Something he instantly regretted doing

-       The Vice Admiral sent him home, giving him time to try and collect himself

Javy

-       He didn’t know until after he came back from his recent deployment

-       Bernie got the call with his friend in the room

-       And that’s when Jake decided to take matters into his own hands (with permission because this is such a serious matter)

-       He’s the first face Javy sees after taking a shower

-       He has barley finished getting dressed when he felt something off with his friend

-       Jake lets him start the conversation before he explains to him the news he’s just learned

-       They sit on the bench in front of the lockers as Javy stares at picture he has of the two of you in his locker

-       It takes him a few weeks before he is comfortable enough to come back to base a little better

-       You know, not crying anytime anyone asks if he’s okay

Natasha

-       She wasn’t meant to be on base but here she is

-       The base mail guy tried to send it to her but didn’t know where she was and Bob happened to walk by

-       He passed the letter to him and ran off

-       Bob wasn’t trying to he nosy but when he saw a familiar phrase on it, he knew something bad had happened

-       He ran to find Pete because he doesn’t want to tell the other members of the squad

-       The man didn’t know what Bob was going to tell him, he very much wasn’t expecting this

-       Pete opens the letter and skims through it, finding that it was about you

-       He knows everyone is going to be devastated and feels it would be better coming from him

-       Bernie was in the room with him and he makes sure Bob is nearby in case she needs a familiar face

-       Bernie would have done it but he doesn’t know if Nat would want to listen to him after

-       She knew something was off when she got here, it was her day off and she’s here

-       She missed spending time with you to be here

-       She takes a leave of absence which everyone understands

-       It takes Beau threatening to discharge her for her to go in the air again

Neil

-       Beau got the letter and felt he should be the one to tell him

-       Poor guy was so nervous when he got called in by the big man

-       He didn't know what was going to happen

-       Logan was hyping him up by saying he was going to be promoted or something of that extent

-       It was awkward when he sat down but then the words came out of the admiral's mouth and his world fell apart

-       He honestly didn't believe him at first

-       But that letter slid across the way and he knew it was real

-       His life wouldn’t be the same

-       It took everyone a minute before they realized it was something serious

-       Nothing could have prepared anyone for this

Callie

-       She was getting ready for practice when it happened

-       Beau got the call but thought Bernie might be the better choice

-       She was confused when he called her and pulled her outside their “hangout” room

-       She slid down the wall after he told her

-       It was the worst thing she could have heard

-       Even for her fellow squad mates

-       They weren’t trying to listen, but it was hard not to put two and two together with all the commotion coming from outside the door

-       It took a while before she came back to work

-       Sticking with paperwork for a bit before trying to get back into her plane

-       She saw your old plane and decided that’d be it, she’d fly it

-       It was the only thing that could bring her some sort of comfort

-       Beau wasn’t to upset when she decided to fly it (more than her own)

-       The only reason was because his seniors were on his ass about it, but he understands what she’s going through

Logan

-       He didn’t know what was going to happen that day but he could sense something was going to change his life

-       It was like a back and forth game between the three men when they tried to figure out who should tell him the news

-       They decided to have Beau call him in do they could all tell him

-       He felt like a kid being called to the principals office

-       The squads comments didn’t help either (it was just before they needed to start training)

-       He waited, for what seemed like hours, before Beau said anything 

- He lost it when he finally heard and didn't know how to act when he got back to everyone 

- Callie made sure everyone took turns checking on him 

Billy

-       He thought everything was fine… until it wasn’t

-       Bernie had to tell him, he didn't have to talk to Pete or Beau. He thought it'd be better coming from him

-       The two talked and stayed together for a few hours before he decided it was time to go home and take some time off to process and grieve

-       He didn’t think that he should tell anyone (not wanting to worry them

- Everyone found out because Pete and Bernie were worried about him

- Pete didn't want him to go through this alone and feel as though he had to 

- He was not alone for even a second

- Everyone came his way, offering food, a place to say, etc, etc 

- No one was upset with his brief leave, they understood and wanted him to come back when he knew he could be in the air and his mind not be elsewhere

Mickey

-       He still doesn’t know what happened exactly, even now when he thinks back or has nightmares

-       He thought Beau and Pete were surprising him with something else when they told him they needed to see him as soon as he landed 

- He was one of the few up for a new position and this was the worst thing he could have ever heard 

-       He waited till he was alone before breaking down in the locker room 

- No one knew what he did until was he found by Jake 

- The blond was thrown off and knew something bad had happened, kept the poor distraught man at bay until Reuben could get there 

- His friend drove him back to their shared apartment and let him cry before explaining what happened 

- Natasha got everyone down to the bar so they could hold a private ceremony in your honor. They all loved you and they needed to grieve with him

- It was a while before he decided he was done being on desk duty 

- Natasha grabbed him by the collar and threw him into her plane so they could practice 

- Bob got him a collectable item the two of you wanted when your one year anniversary came up and he teared up 

- It was a while before he started dating again, not being able to see your face or hear your voice made it harder 

- He added a letter he'd written to you in the early years of your relationship to his locker and it was his lucky charm 

Reuben

-       He hoped that everything would be fine

-       But when he saw Pete walking down that hallway in his fast and serious manner, he knew it had to do with you

-       The squad has never seen this man cry (sober, of course). So, imagine how they'd feel when they heard the news 

- Only reason they found out was because Pete was holding him while he wept and kept begging for you 

-       They couldn’t leave him behind because they know how hard it is to go through grief whether you’re on your own or not

- When it first happened, Mickey made sure he ate when he was at home 

- He took a few months off to fully grieve you so he could make sure his head was in the game and not hurt anyone 

- The others made sure he never went to bed or woke up with an empty stomach 

- They're the only ones keeping sane throughout the wake and funeral but he's happy he has them by his side otherworldly who knows what would have happened to him 

Brigham

- None of the older guys wanted to talk about it but couldn't put it off forever 

- When he was called into the Beau’s office, hearing this devastating news is not how he thought he was going to start training 

- Bernie was the the one to tell him but Beau was in the room with him, explaining that they understood if he needed some time off

- It was a couple of hours until the rest of the squad heard about it because they were all training before him

- When they got back, they teased him for not being there until he told them with little to no emotion 

- Logan and Neil checked on him constantly 

- Natasha got everyone together so they could through a small potluck in your honor because everyone loved you and knew you two were meant to be 

- They were excited when his name was on the board to practice and practically threw themselves at him as they hugged

-

Taglist

@blueoorchid @kmc1989

[mrslectermoriarty]

A tribute to one of the best fanfictions I have ever read:

Don’t worry, you don’t have to know West Wing to read it <3

I can’t wait for the last chapter!!!

Okay so we have

1. “Important press Conference coming up!”

2. “The enemy has invaded the territory - wait no, the marines are the good ones:)”

3. “Quality Time for the family ❤️”

4. Something official (I may have pasted a small extract of the first chapter in there as a filler *-*)

5. “Home Office on a new level, I guess…”

6. “It’s been quite a while and you’re still going strong - happy birthday to my wingman in the air and on the ground @chiefofstaff (thanks for still putting up with me)”

7. “Small Talk can be just as important as conference meetings”

8. “You leave the room for five minutes and your staff starts destroying state property (just kidding, I love them all)”

9. “The vacation where you meet the extended family”

I know that you wouldn’t see most of that irl, but it’s Pete and he’s Maverick, what can I do?

Here are part 2 and 3 ^^

[ever-changing-fandom-bomb]