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Nettles - Ethel Cain

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reading "these feelings won't go away" by haridwar & i GASPED at the almost throwaway 'jake is an ex-smoker who quit because bradley's mum died of lung cancer and that's why he's always got a toothpick in his mouth' headcanon and i LOVE it in the context of exes jake and bradley, where even after they break up, jake still fights off cravings and keeps on gnawing on toothpicks because a part of him KNOWS in his soul that he and bradley will find their way back together.

(and he's right, they do).

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I'm as normal about them as they are about each other

Hangster moment #243 that I'll never get over - the way Bradley watches Jake walk away and exhales after their foreplay verbal sparring match at the Hard Deck.

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"Why'd you pull my papers at the academy? Why did you stand in my way?"

For me it's the fact that Maverick, knowingly or unknowingly, placed the same roadblock in Bradley's path that he himself faced. He pulled Bradley's papers because of what happened to Goose, because Carole (and maybe Maverick too) feared the same fate would befall Bradley.

We know from the 1986 film that Maverick was rejected because of his own father and the circumstances surrounding Duke's death in action: "They wouldn't let you in the academy cause you're Duke Mitchell's kid."

Both Maverick and Bradley are kept out of the academy because of the ways in which their fathers' died. Both, despite this, still become pilots, still attend top gun. . .

There is something inside both of them, an intrinsic trait that makes them persevere. Maverick places the same roadblock in Bradley's path and he manages to overcome it just like Maverick did, maybe because through Maverick's influence Bradley turned out to be a little bit more like him than Maverick expected or wanted.

I think it's easy to compare Rooster to Iceman and Hangman to Maverick--they are definitely similar, particularly in their flying. But the truth of the matter is that there is a lot of Maverick to be found in Rooster, in Bradley, and I think on some level this absolutely terrifies Maverick.

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Jake’s by the water with the sun in his eyes, squinting and assessing the lake. He’s poised like he’s about to strike. Green and golden, in his dressed up shirt, his hair out of place, the cuffs of his pants rolled up, and his shoes off in his right hand.

The wedding’s over, and Bradley’s got a buzz going from the open bar. They’re not close with the bride and groom, cousin of a cousin, but it’s a huge venue and the extended Seresin culture seems to value breadth rather than depth.

“Pay me five bucks and I’ll go in,” Jake declares finally.

“Bullshit,” Bradley laughs, “You were gonna do it anyway.”

“I do a lot of things for free already,”Jake casts him a telling side eye, “Might as well try to turn a profit.”

The flirting will lead to them jumping into the water, will lead to Bradley’s best shirt soggy and drenched nearly see through. He’s going to get pulled under with Jake’s cackles in his ear. They’ll trudge through the grass while dripping and he’ll poke cold fingers under Jake’s shirt.

“Okay,” Bradley pulls out his wallet. “Five bucks.”

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🦊

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The next Top Gun movie should start with Jake "Hangman" Seresin shoving Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw into a wall, and the audience initially thinks they're about to have a fight, and then they start making out. They show Hangman shirtless and we see that there's a ring alongside his dog tags.

The next scene is the both of them at The Hard Deck, and you realise this is a flashback scene and that Jake and Bradley had been married the entirety of Top Gun: Maverick.

Then we jump to the present. Maverick and Hangman are sitting across from each other at a dining table in a nice, but incredibly dated kitchen. There is a very palpable, awkward silence. Maverick comments that the house looks exactly the same as it did in the 90s, and Hangman replies that Bradley is allergic to change and modernity. "It'll look like this 309 years from now." Then they lapse into awkward silence again.

They hear the door opening, and Bradley, Penny and Amelia come through the door with groceries. Both of them are visibly relieved by the return of their respective partners, who are chatting happily together.

Top Gun 3: Your Son Marries A Man Who Is A Little Too Much Like You and You Disapprove About It, But Then You Both Have To Go On A Rescue Mission To Save Him and Finally Understand Each Other (Working Title).

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Nothing hits like "romantic couple and a third guy who's not dating either of them but is definitely a part of this dynamic"

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super quick screenshot study—with a sprinkle of extra symbolism! (ask me about the birds i dare you) (but please do not google what those patches are supposed to look like because i sure didn’t) (and my reference was veryyyyy blurry)

fun little timelapse featuring all my random detours under the cut

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TGM x PacRim commissions for the lovely @redfurrycat !! 🤖

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Cockblock... another Rooster callsign backstory.

Bradley Bradshaw, completely inept at some social cues and accidentally cockblocking five different people unintentionally while they're on liberty leave. It's afterwards when the five people of Bradley's squad are all commiserating over getting cockblocked that they realise that they ALL got cockblocked by him.

Their CO would never approve Cockblock as a callsign, however they make up a bullshit story about Bradley being a real morning person and always the first one ready and float the idea of Rooster. They think they're clever and funny.

CO is skeptical, because he's seen Bradshaw first thing in the morning and 'morning person' is NOT how he would describe him so he KNOWS something is up... but he suspects that maybe it's because it's Bradshaw is definitely not a morning person.

However, CO approves it, because Rooster isn't offensive, and it kind of seems like a nice tie-in with Bradshaw's old man having the callsign Goose.

(Jake was totally one of the guys Bradley cockblocked. Jake thinks he did it on purpose. Bradley did not. Point of contention between them for years.)

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lol

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guys i’m sorry about forgetting tumblr! here take some angst as an apology

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Whether or not Carole Bradshaw dies when Bradley is a still a child or just at the cusp of adulthood, there are a lot of times when it's just Mav and Bradley, and Bradley starts covering Pete's weaknesses from a young age.

Mav is a good dad. He teaches Bradley to shave and fix a car and gives him The Talk. Attends various music recitals for the too-many instruments Bradley plays. Takes him to the library when he stops having answers to Bradley's many questions about everything and anything.

But Mav also burns water and doesn't believe in ironing clothes, so it's Bradley who experiments until he can make an edible meal, then takes it further, until he's damn good. At 14, he hosts Thanksgiving dinner—the first one hosted by a Bradshaw in years.

It's Bradley who keeps the house in order. He cleans, irons everyone's clothes, and makes a list of things that need maintenance.

Eventually, a lot of the things that are Mav's job becomes Bradley's, not because Mav is irresponsible, but because Mav will mow the lawn only to catch Bradley doing it again an hour later.

Bradley hates not knowing how to do something. The sink breaks, Mav fixes it up, and Bradley makes sure he's there to watch because he NEEDS to know how to do it next time.

It isn't just homemaking. When Mav is about to go off on an assignment, Bradley is there with a list of what he needs to pack. He watches Mav do it, too, like if he doesn't watch him something will fall out of his bag and bring catastrophe upon them all.

It's the 90s, mental health is a myth and Carole is in and out of hospital and never quite strong enough, and neither she nor Mav ping it as anything other than Bradley being Bradley.

In fact, both Carole and Mav will be gone from his life—in different ways)—when he finally finds out what it is about him that's different from others. But by then, it's not something he can talk about, if he wants to follow his dreams.

He's used to that.

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hangster 45. running hands through hair pls pls pls pls

oh yes. ohhh yes.

It's late when Jake gets home. A meeting went long, and then he had to spend 45 minutes convincing one of the better young pilots to not give in her wings just because she had to eject earlier in the week. The Bronco is in the driveway, but based on the lack of texts he's received, Jake's pretty sure Bradley's passed out after a long day of flight training.

So he's quiet coming inside, placing his bag on the floor of the foyer instead of tossing it, bending down to take his boots off with his hands rather than toeing them off and making a whole bunch of noise. Sure enough, he hears Bradley snoring like a jet engine when he creeps into the living room. The Padres game is on the TV, volume low, and they're losing to the Phillies by 2. Jake holds in a laugh; normally, Bradley would be pacing and hollering at the players on the screen. Instead he's dead to the world, draped across the couch, head on a pillow and one leg hanging off the whole thing altogether. His curls are messy, falling over his forehead in locks of chestnut. With his mouth wide open and his head tilted back, he looks less like he's asleep and more like a corpse. But the snoring assures Jake that he's still kicking. Jake heads for the kitchen, unbuttoning his khaki shirt as he goes. There's a beer and a pint glass both waiting for him in the fridge, and he smiles at it; Bradley always chills his glasses for him. When he's shed his shirt, Jake pads into the living room and settles on the floor by Bradley's head, sipping on the cold beer. Bradley snores right in his ear, snuffling in his sleep. Jake turns to him, reaching around with his free hand to brush the hair from his forehead. It doesn't wake Bradley, but he does settle a little, so he keeps on doing it. He has to crane his neck to watch the game, but he doesn't mind. The hair running through his fingers is soft and clean, free of the gel they both use to tame their hair to regulation standards. Jake loves when Bradley leaves his hair natural, bouncy and wavy. In the sun, it shows the same dark caramel as his eyes. He's quietly yesss-ing a home run when Bradley wakes, so he doesn't notice it at first. "You're home," comes Bradley's sleep soft-voice. Jake looks over at him, smiling right away. Bradley's eyes are bleary with sleep, cheeks flushed Jake's favorite shade of pink. He's blinking at him sleepily, half-smiling. There are freckles on his nose, and he chilled Jake's beer glass, and he's wearing Jake's t-shirt, and Jake is in love with him. He nods. "Yeah, B. I'm home."

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Jake Seresin's mom group

You can't convince me Jake would not enjoy the mom group dynamics. He would bask in the attention the moms would inevitably give him.

This is crack treated only semi-seriously. Tbh, I giggled my way through this thing.

***

Jake's heart is overflowing with love as he watches his little girl bounce around the park. Her big brown eyes wide with joy, her smile too bright for this dull world. She’s the most beautiful human being under the sun, parental bias be damned. 

Resting in his palm, like a treasure, is a glittery pink bow, long forgotten by its little owner, traded instead for a little too big, well-loved San Diego Padres baseball cap adorning her long chestnut curls like a crown for the princess she is. 

“She’s the sweetest,” Veronica leans in, bumping into his shoulder. Her eyes follow his line of sight and she smiles, a pleased private thing, only for Jake to see. They stand like this, shoulder to shoulder, watching the scene unfold in front of them. 

The kids play some sort of game only they know the rules of. They're in the middle of an excited outburst when Veronica's little boy, overwhelmed by the noise, new surroundings and too many friends all at once, starts to spin on the spot, screaming his lungs out.

And Jake’s little girl, bless her, joins him in immediately, matching his energy. She spins with her arms outstretched, dress twirling. Leaning her head back, she loses the cap, but she doesn’t care. Jake watches enamored, noticing that with her head thrown back like that, her hair almost reaches under her knees. It’s a miracle, she hasn’t yet pulled half of it out by stepping on it. 

The rest of the kids run to join them too, making it look like a flash mob, rather than a successfully dissolved tantrum. They soon switch to a weird version of tag, chasing each other while still spinning.

That’s when Jake turns back to Veronica, not really keen on seeing the next skinned knee the game will inevitably bring upon them.

“She’s always ready to include him, no matter what,” Veronica says gratefully. “Got a heart of gold, your little one,” she adds, squeezing his shoulder. Her words make Jake’s heart expand in his chest. 

Sometimes, the feeling gets so big. It’s like he’s ready to explode any moment, letting it consume him in a way only love can do. But then he holds it in for a while, cradles it in his aching arms. And lets it loose to the world. Everytime, his heart stays a little bigger than it was before, aching with the intensity in the best possible way.

“Well,” he aims for a joke, because there’s no way he can let her see what’s happening inside of him right now, “She’s got it from her dad,” he says with a smirk. 

Veronica laughs at that. “Sure, ‘cause you’re such a sweetheart yourself.” 

Jake winks at her, enjoying his own secret joke, while maintaining his persona. He was not talking about himself, but she doesn’t know that. Him. Not yet. 

“Yeah, well, I made the raspberry pop tarts she loves so much,” Veronica says, waving her hand at the table their little group is currently occupying. 

Jake nods his thanks while he turns around to take in the rest of the women currently setting up what looks like an entire aisle of snacks of the nearest supermarket spread onto the wooden picnic table. 

They might not look like it, but they're his people. Together, they form one very average mom group - perfectly curated, very typical, a bit bonkers. Just the way he likes it. They’re like pokemons and he has them all. 

There’s Alice, the I-can-and-I-am-doing-it-all single mother, who hit on him HARD the first time they met but backtracked immediately when he flashed her the ring on his left hand, becoming his bestie instead. They’re THE team when it comes to field trips and class meetings. Always ready to jump in and help each other when life and school pick ups get complicated.

Then there’s Tess, the overzealous extroverted stay at home mom, who will plan everyone’s week just so she doesn’t have to stay with her kids at home alone. Play dates and coffee dates organized for the rest of the school year, art supplies always ready.

Veronica, always complaining about anything and everything, but secretly the most tender and loving person, who makes the best and most beautiful cakes. She’ll also drive around half of the town just to come back for you when your car won’t start.

Also Emily, the chaotic mom, always running late, kids in mismatched outfits picked by themselves, her cheeks covered in sparkles from the last time her little boy wanted to try his hand at make up, fake Anna and Elsa tattoos covering her forearms. 

And then there’s Jake, the designated dad of the group. Always cracking jokes, always low-key flirting with all of them at once, basking in the attention naturally given when a group of mothers adopts a fellow parent who also happens to be a man. 

They've been his village for the last five and a half months, since his little girl started school and Bradley left for his latest deployment. 

They follow all the unwritten rules of any mom groups out there:

Do not ask too many questions. Any information must be given freely.

Talk about the kids. Safe territory.

Complain about your partner once in a while. The group’s foundation stone is solidarity. 

Engage in the WhatsApp group chat, for fuck’s sake. We need to hear your opinion. 

Be there for each other. Everyone needs an adult conversation once in a while.

“Oi, darling, careful,” they hear from afar, and that’s Emily. Arms full of backpacks and hats and snacks, finally arriving, only forty minutes late this time. She’s stumbling behind her three kids that are already running wild joining their other friends on the playground. 

Jake runs up to her, taking all the backpacks from her arms. 

“Hi Em, are you moving or something?” he asks jokingly, looking down at the amount of stuff she’s bringing. 

She just laughs. At herself mostly. She may always bring chaos with her, but she’s never in a bad mood. “The camo one is yours, actually,” she says, nodding with her chin to an old worn-out camo backpack that’s got a pink stuffed arm of Jake-doesn’t-know-what peeking out of it.

“Mine?” He asks, eyebrows raising. 

“Yeah, Bee said it was her dad’s?” she says, frowning. “She gave it to Timmy last time he was at yours. Apparently, he had collected too many rocks and needed something to put them in, so he could bring them home,” she clarifies while unloading another snack aisle on the already overflowing table.

At the same time, Jake spots the rooster keychain dangling from the zipper and understands. “Oh, right. Her dad’s,” he mumbles with a little smile.

The thing is, they haven’t met Bradley yet.

The thing is, they haven’t heard of him yet either. At least as far as he knows.

Though their little girl is always talking about her dad, they have no idea there’s two of them. 

He fights the urge to giggle. It’s a little stunt they pull anytime they get the chance. And they move a lot, so there are always new opportunities waiting. 

It doesn’t work out everytime, but when it does, it’s glorious. 

“Jake, did you manage to get that gluten-free cake thingy for Hallie?” Tess asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Of course,” he drawls, “but I’m never going back to that shop ever again. As much as I love Hallie,” he adds quickly. 

Tess frowns but Alice snorts, almost drowning in her Iced Blond Vanilla Latte. “You should have seen him,” she’s laughing now, coffee splashing around as she shakes with it. “He almost fell out the door, basically running to my car,” she heaves with laughter, taking the piss out of Jake, because she knows she can. “He jumped in, go, Alice, go!” She mimics Jake’s drawl, which earns her the group’s full attention and one very intense green-eyed stare.  

“And I’m like… all confused, what the fuck’s going on, is there a zombie going after you?” she’s acting out the whole scene now. “But before I can even start the car, there’s a lady bursting out of the shop, Sir, sir!” And Alice apparently missed her calling because she should have been an actress. Jake can already feel the embarrassed heat reaching his cheeks. “And she’s waving the paper bag with the cake up in the air like it’s a handkerchief and she’s flagging down fucking Titanic.”

She has too much fun with the story. That’s when Jake needs to intervene and try to save some of his own dignity. If that’s even still possible, that is. “Alice,” he cries out, “you saw her! She was insane. She literally wrote her number on the,” he lowers his voice, because there are kids running around and he’s a good parent, for fuck’s sake. “Fucking paper bag.” He says, eyes wide, emphasizing the words quietly. He rummages the table to find said gluten-free cake thingy, and from underneath pulls out a paper bag, which has, indeed, a phone number written on it in big black, desperately looking numbers. 

“And,” he continues pointedly and fishes out the receipt from the bag, “on the fucking receipt, too,” he says, pulling out the thin strap of paper, showing the unmistakable digits to everyone. He holds it high above his head, pinning Alice with his glare. She’s still laughing, nonetheless. “She would have written it on the fucking cake, if she could,” he mumbles, scrunching the receipt and paper bag in one ball and throwing it into the trash can resolutely. 

They’re all laughing now, mostly at his and Alice’s dramatics, rather than Jake’s despair, but he’ll have none of that. “I’m a married man, for fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath, arms crossed over his chest, lips pouting, willing the blush from his cheeks away. 

“Speaking of which,” Alice sidles up to him, “When’s your significant other coming?” she asks, eyebrows raised, all business like. 

And suddenly, there are four very intense pairs of eyes on him. They circle him like prey. “You promised.” 

Yeah, he did.

Jake thinks back to the day he made that promise and his heart thumps a little faster in his chest. It was the day Bradley finally came back home. After long, long six months of deployment in stupid, far away, across-fucking-too-many-time-zones Japan, he came back. And Jake was so happy, holding their girl and his husband in his arms, after so long. The three of them finally together again. 

He made that promise on a whim, out of pure happiness.

“Should be here any minute,” he says, smirking, confidence back where it belongs. 

“Oh, I can’t wait to finally meet her.” - “Is she even real?” - “She must be a real one, putting up with you.” - “Little Bee must be her mini-me, right? ‘Cause she sure didn’t get those curls from you, blondie.” - …

He doesn’t correct them. 

His eyes go back to his little girl. She’s sitting in the grass, laughing at something Timmy just said. The sun is painting her hair in gold, her skin too. She’s picking daisies the way all the kids do - the cap in her lap full of flower heads with no stems. Jake forgets how to breathe for a while. 

Until…

“God almighty!”

“Holly fucking shit!”

And of course, that gets Jake’s attention. “Come on, there are kids arou…” His scolding fades away as he catches the sight of his friends. They are staring, jaws half way on the ground, hands on chest. 

He follows their line of sight and oh… 

He forgot. He totally forgot. 

Bradley had an official meeting today. Which means he’s now striding towards them, all easy confidence, crossing the park like the whole world belongs to him, in his uniform. 

And Jake stares too. 

Because he’s allowed to. Because he couldn’t for so long. Because it’s Bradley. 

It’s that simple.

He’s … Gorgeous. He’s always been the most handsome man Jake has ever laid his eyes upon. And he still is, after all those years. Even with silver strands in his chestnut curls, even with his midsection getting fuller over the years. All of these things only add a layer of beauty to the man he once was. A layer of life. A shared one. A layer of love. 

The uniform leaves nothing to imagination, hugging him at all the right places, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders, his impossibly long legs, the swell of his strong arms. The sun finishes the picture by painting him in every shade of gold, from his curls, to his skin, to the deep brown of his eyes. The uniform cap is tucked under his arm. The wings, pinned on his chest proudly, glitter with light. 

Eyes and heads turn in his direction. Women stop in their conversations, ducking their heads, trying not to stare too obviously. And failing. Kids stop in their tracks, eyeing him suspiciously - in the intense way only kids are able to. 

But Bradley’s eyes are on his own target. He strides with intent, crossing the grass like it’s tarmac and he’s ready to embark on a mission. Only the mission is Jake. 

He doesn’t slow down until he’s right in front of their group. All eyes on him. He stops then and smiles, eyeing Jake’s friends with amused grin - Jake’s forever favourite expression of his. 

Jake’s always so excited about the big reveal. He can’t wait to see his friends finally connecting the dots. Laugh at their surprised faces. But he always misses it, too busy staring at his perfect husband. 

Alice is the first one to come to her senses. She clears her throat, breaking the moment of silence. 

"You looking for something, Sir?" she squeaks, cheeks pink, all her usual game gone with the wind.

Bradley smiles a bit more, steadfast and confident. “No,” he answers simply. And there’s a whole life hiding behind that one short word. “I’ve got everything I need,” he adds, locking his eyes with Jake. 

And Jake knows what flying feels like, he knows what being the best of the bests feels like, what being completely utterly totally free feels like. But nothing ever compares to this. 

He can’t hold his act any longer, he needs his husband’s arms around his waist, his lips against his lips, the affection currently consuming his whole body and soul out of his system before he explodes with it.

He takes a deep breath. How is it possible that after all those years, he still gets butterflies in his stomach just by looking at the man? He smiles at that thought and makes a move to finally step closer and erase the distance between their bodies, but someone beats him to it. And Jake can’t even be mad about it.

“Daddy!” a happy squeak breaks the silence and Bradley has just about the right amount of time to turn around so he can catch his little girl jumping into his arms. She hugs him with all of her body, koala-style, burying her face into his shoulder, uniform be damned.  

“Hi, sweetheart,” Bradley says with the soft voice he only keeps for his little girl. He hugs her back tightly, but she’s a kid at a park and has no time to waste, so it only takes a second before  she wiggles her way out of his embrace, running back to her friends again.

She makes room for Jake to finally step in. He leans in, planting a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Hello, darling,” Bradley purrs, pulling him closer by the belt loops on his pants.

“Hi, husband,” Jake says, grinning into another kiss, chasing Bradley’s lips. 

Loud gasps slice through the air behind his back.