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niqhtlord01 · 2 years

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Writing Mistakes: Changing Lore Without Reason.

One of the biggest challenges of writing is creating lore. Lore is what established the foundation of what characters or groups of characters represent and believe in. It justifies their motives, shapes who they are in the world around them and how others interact with them, and sets the course for their future in your stories. Once that lore is set down and enough people read it eventually it will become the undisputable fact in their minds. So when a writer is tempted to change the facts of that lore and present the new material as completely opposite to what has come before without any good reason, you may find that transition to not go as smoothly as you had planned, both with how the new lore fits into the overall story, and how fans will react to it. Case and point, Genlock Season 2. -----------

Genlock was a fascinating and new show made by Rooster Teeth.

It had well-choreographed fights scenes, unique characters, twist villains, and a surprisingly deep conversation about what really makes us who we are and how sharing our experiences helps us grow.

Then the second season happened…..and…well…….

It did not do it justice.

This can be tallied up to several factors but one of the biggest problems was the ignoring of established lore from the first season.

For starters we can begin with the biggest change to the series regarding the main antagonist the Great Union of the Fourth Turning Republics, or more commonly known as The Union.

In the first season, the Union was portrayed as an authoritarian government suffering no forms of descent from within their ranks.

Technologically they inferior to the Polity, the coalition of nations the main protagonists fight under. This description goes one step further when Dr. Weller even calls them scavengers, stealing technology and repurposing it for their own use while at times not fully understanding how it functions.

Their military tactics revolve around avoiding large scale battles because of their limited military power and instead relying heavily on their use of nanotech death clouds to thin out their enemies ranks before the engagements even begin. These nanotech clouds appear to be their one major advantage over the Polity for much of season 1 which allowed them to win a majority of their early victories.

In short they are portrayed as a nation of opportunists who use indirect methods of warfare to achieve their goals alongside a slow and calculated military advance to achieve world domination.

In season 2, new layers are added that bring much of that established lore from season 1 into question if not contradictory.

Season 2 depicts the Union as a Theocracy which merges all religions into a single religion that ends with the ascension of humanity through nanotechnology.

Their end goal of world domination and establishing a collective like world order is replaced with their new goal to instead help humanity ascend into the digital realm to survive their coming extinction from the damage done to the global environment.

We are introduced to several new characters within the Union that help reinforce its heavy religious attributes and quickly paints itself as a “Death Cult”, as described by one of the protagonists, as they see no hope for saving the world as it is and instead seek every human on the planet to shake off their mortal flesh and join the nanotech cloud known as the “Flow”.

Right off the bat we can see the problems already starting to appear.

Having your established villains suddenly change their motives is not something new to storytelling, but doing so off screen between seasons with little to no established material to support this change is a bad choice.

It would be like Skeletor deciding between seasons that his real rival all along wasn’t He-man but Orko, despite an entire seasons worth of battles, banter, schemes, and conflicts all revolving around his feud with He-man.

It just doesn’t make sense, and neither does the sudden paradigm shift with the Union.

Season 2 Union is all about having humanity ascend via nanotech. Yet in season 1 we see the Union using their nanotech clouds to attack all organic matter, be it plants, animals, or even people. The exception to this is those who serve the Union are instead spared the nanotech attack and are allowed to continue living.

If their end goal had been the ascension of humanity, why would the nanotech only target non-union people? Why even attack plants and animals?

Because the nanotech clouds in season 1 were designed as a weapon, not as a religious method of ascension.

In their attempts to expand upon the lore of the Union for season 2 the writers instead created an entirely different Union then what viewers had seen in season 1 with different goals and motives that now disconnect from previous events.

In my opinion they should have stuck with the Union remaining an Authoritarian government, but there were ways to portray the Union as a collective of religious zealots that would have fit into the established lore.

Example 1: The Union view the Polity as heretics and therefore unworthy of ascension. This would explain why the nanotech cloud killed all humans that weren’t Union aligned.

Example 2: Protagonists find forced conversion camps that are brainwashing captured civilians and soldiers and turning them into fanatics. This would align with the Union kidnapping multiple people during season 1.

Example 3: You have the leader portraying them as an authoritarian when in reality the ruling caste of the Union is in fact the death cult attempting to make humanity ascend without the rest of the Union knowing. This could come from the overly secretive nature of the Union as much of their motives remained hidden for season 1.

These options would have provided a smooth transition into the new motives of the Union and given a bit more unity with the plot. Instead, we are just told that the Union is a religious Theocracy and that it has always been that with no tie ins to the first season save the retcons they make in season 2.

#Rooster Teeth #hbo #Genlock #gen:lock #The Great Union of the Fourth Turning Republics #writing

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supernaturaldawning · 2 years

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The love I have for the line “keepin dreams alive , 1999 , heroes” in I Ain’t Worried by One Republic is insane 😭

Is it because I was born in 1999 ? Maybe. I don’t wanna talk about it 💀

#one republic #top gun maverick #miles teller #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun

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tmblristhefuckingworst · 2 months

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#gold coin #20 francs rooster #marianne #republique francaise #french third republic

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tmblrfuckingsucksass · 4 months

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1910 20 Francs Marianne Rooster Gold Coin

🇫🇷

#20 francs rooster #marianne #gold #gold coin #france #francs #french gold #french currency #wealth #numismatics #french third republic #republique francaise #liberty equality fraternity

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snuffhorse · 5 months

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you know im a bit of an artist myself

#rooster tag #i wanted to draw him but couldnt think of anything so #wild republic yutyrannus plush edit it is

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sailor-aviator · 5 months

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The Beginning

Stranger Like Me: Prologue

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Talk of loneliness, Inaccurate scientific descriptions and terminology, Flirty Jake, Allusions to loss of parents, Talk of reintigrating someone into society...I think that's it.

Word Count: 1,263

A/N: Here it is! I hope y'all don't mind me making you wait too long! This blog is 18+ ONLY! As always, reblogs and comments are welcomed and encouraged!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where all of my stories and drabbles are posted! If you would like to be added to the Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw tag list, please click the link below!

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List

You had a running theory that there were two types of people in this world: plant people and animal people. You? You were most definitely an animal person. Growing up, you visited the zoo frequently, the employees practically knowing you by name. You did your best to memorize as many facts as you could about the different animals in each exhibit, knowing from an early age that you wanted to work with animals for the rest of your life.

You’d spend hours at the primate exhibits, watching the way the different apes and monkeys interact with each other, and you wished you could fast forward to the moment where you got to study it day in and day out.

So, you worked hard, graduating high school with honors before moving on to study zoology in undergrad, and then skipping straight to your doctorate program after that. It had been a long, grueling road that left little time for much else, but it was your passion, and once you had been greeted with the title of “doctor,” you knew it had all been worth it.

That didn’t stop your bouts of loneliness though. While your friends all went out to party, you were usually found with your nose buried in a book. And it wasn’t like you wanted to go out partying, but it still hurt when your friends stopped asking.

And then there was Jake Seresin, your handsome best friend of several years who knew he looked good and never failed to own it. The two of you had met in the early days of undergrad, having been partnered up in a biology lab, and you had hit it off immediately. Jake wasn’t interested in primates, his focus turned towards botany of all things, but he loved to tease you about your love of great apes.

“A cute girl like you studying monkeys?” He had chuckled with a shake of his head, mossy green eyes glimmering with mischief. “You must have had a wild fascination with Boots the monkey, huh?”

“First of all, peabrain,” you scowled at him, fighting back the smile that threatened to take over your face as his jaw dropped, “I study apes, not monkeys. Second of all, my fascination with Boots is none of your business.”

“Whatever you say, Boots.”

And the nickname had stuck. It followed you through undergrad and all the way through to your now budding career as one of the leading researchers in gorilla social structures. Which is also how you found yourself invited to the North Island Research Camp in the Republic of the Congo.

The camp wasn’t some grand research center, but it was well respected amongst the scientific community for gathering the most up-to-date research and hands-on experiences between researchers and local fauna. The camp was run by Dr. Pete Mitchell and Dr. Tom Kazansky, both legends within the field and rarely opening up their camp to other researchers. You had been thrilled to receive the invitation, and even more thrilled when you found out that Jake had also received an invitation to the camp to continue his research on tropical plants.

The two of you had made plans to fly out of San Diego at the same time, even choosing to stay at his place the night before your flight.

“The early bird gets the worm, Boots!” He chirped, loading up the trunk of the Uber with your luggage. How he was so cheerful at three in the morning was beyond you.

The flight to your destination was uneventful, choosing to catch up on some of your reading as well as sleep for the majority of the flight. The two of you were greeted by a bespectacled man once you departed the plane, his demeanor relaxed but his face shy as he helped you with your bags.

“I’m Bob,” he said, loading the back of his jeep with your belongings. “I’m helping out Pete and Tom with their research. The other researcher is already at the camp. He got here about a month ago.”

“Who is it?” You asked him, hopping into the front seat of the car as Jake clambered into the back.

“Javy Machado,” Bob answered, already making his way through the city and towards the jungle. “He’s doing research into termite colonies.”

“Javy’s gonna be there?” Jake asked, leaning forward with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him. Javy and Jake almost went as far back as you two did, having first met in a chemistry course their junior year of college. While you and Jake had gone to the same university for your doctorate programs, Javy had ventured elsewhere, making a name for himself within the world of entomology. The two together was almost insufferable.

“You two better behave,” you groused, settling into your seat with a glare in his direction.

“Boots,” he gasped, placing a hand over his heart in faux hurt, “I am absolutely shocked that you think we would be anything other than complete professionals.”

“Don’t give me that crap,” you snapped, turning to face Bob who glanced at you two wearily. “Those two are going to be a nightmare, I’m just warning you now.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he chuckled.

The three of you settled into a comfortable conversation as Bob continued to drive towards the camp, the jungle becoming denser the longer he went. Soon, the sun was hidden behind the canopy, and you got the sense that you were truly in the wild.

“Are you sure about this, Mav,” Ice hummed, hands clasped firmly in front of him as he eyed his fellow researcher. Mav spared him a smile, running a hand through his hair as he sat on the bench opposite his companion.

“He’s been on his own for decades, Ice,” Mav grimaced, glancing into the trees. “He deserves to know companionship beyond just us.”

“He has Bob and Javy.”

“He deserves more than just four other people in his life,” he amended, rolling his eyes. “We’re lucky we found him when we did, otherwise I’m not sure he would have survived on his own. Besides, Nick and Carole wouldn’t have wanted this for him. They would have wanted him to see the world, to meet other people.”

Ice hummed at that. Of course, Maverick had a point. They couldn’t keep the boy isolated for forever. He was already butting heads more and more with the troop leader and spending more nights in the observation tower as a result. It also wasn’t like Ice wanted to keep him isolated for selfish reasons. No, quite the opposite in fact. The kid had spent most of his life right there in the jungle, never having contact with another human being until the two men had opened up the research camp once more ten years before.

And that’s what had Ice so apprehensive. The boy had little to no experience with humans, and what he did have was from the time spent with the two older men who weren’t exactly the greatest of company at the best of times. How would he react to a camp full of people his own age? Would it be too much for him?

“Bradley is smart, Ice,” Mav continued, knocking his knuckles against the table. “He’s already been asking questions about the people in the movies and photos he sees. He wants to know about the outside world. Let’s let him have that chance.”

Ice didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed, leaning back in his chair. This would be good for Bradley. It had to be.

Tag List: @goldenseresinretriever @fanficfandomlove @seresinsbrat @hopip99 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @moon42flight @kmc1989 @rhettsluvr @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @nouis-bum @topherwrites @crybaby-21 @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @princessofglitterland @agentorange9595 @pittbull-enthusiast @krispybearbouquet @els-marvelvsp @jupitercomet @maximus890 @eloquentdreamer @seresinslady @piceous21 @wh1skey0n1ce @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @smileybouquet @jessicab1991

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #top gun rooster #rooster top gun

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thesirencult · 5 months

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Have any favourite book recommendations? ✨💘

5 Books Everyone Should Read

This is a collection of 5 books I believe anyone can read and gain something from them. These are all from different genres and I probably need to post a bigger "masterlist" of sorts when I have the time ! @siren-honey thank you for this question ! These books are some I read (or re-read) this past few weeks, so they are not my "all star" rooster but nonetheless they are great books!

The Bank by Marc Roche

This is an older book but its teachings still ring true. My dad bought this book many many years ago and it talks about Goldman Sachs and how the big banks and investment companies "rule the world ". Now I know that doesn't sound very exciting to read baout but it is great for anyone who wants to level up and open their eyes on what is really going on in the world. If you can not find the book and want to learn a bit about it, just send me a private message or an ask and I will post a summary <3

2. Why Men Love Bitches

Everyone and I mean, EVERYONE should read this book. Don't scrunch your nose because of the name! It helps you come in contact with your auntentic self and the wild feminine side of yours. Let your head down tiger ! It's time to show what you're made of.

3. Plato's Republic

A dialogue written by Plato. It doesn't only discuss the matter of "justice" but it also contains the "Allegory Of The Cave". Now, I'm studying history and philosophy so these texts are "easy" (lies!) for me to read and analyze (more lies! lol), but if you don't want to read thw whole dialogue just search it up online and read about the main points. You will still learn something !

4. 48 Laws Of Power

I'm a history buff. I love the way Robert Greene, in all of his books, combines history with psychology. Sadly, his teachings are right. This book will help you distinguish people and learn how to spot the good characters in your life. Anything by Robert Greene is great to read! You won't want to put it down !

5. The Richest Man In Babylon

This book is one of my favourites because it is a no bull$hit guide to wealth. It tecahes the fundamentals and shows that they never changed. As an example, many "wealth coaches" tell you to never buy a house and always rent, but right now we see that it is much cheaper to buy than rent. These cycles repeat themselves all the time and the author suggests you always have a home, big enough to live at comfortably or that you can rent and use as an investment property. The book is also a container of wise teachings on life in general.

BONUS:

6. The Body Keeps The Score

Health is wealth. PERIOD. I love this book cause it shows the link between our brain, mindset and physical body. If you read just one book of all the ones I mentioned let it be this. As a society we have glorified wealth and wordly accomplishments and we have forgotten our temple, our vessel of life, our body!

#high value mindset #high value dating #high value woman #high maintenance #femininity #divine feminine #femme fatale #wealth mindset #book quotes #books #book recommendations #mindset #level up journey #self love #leveling up #luxury

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rooster-does-art · 5 months

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The December Coup

December 1, 1989

The December Coup was the biggest coup to ever hit the Republic of the Philippines. Around 3,000 elite Philippine Marines, Scout Rangers, and other Armed Forces personnel took part in the coup that attempted to overthrow the administration at the time. In the initial day of the coup, rebel forces not only managed to secure armor and groudn attack aircraft, but also captured important military facilities. The National Capital Region and many of the surrounding areas thus became a battlefield for several days, as loyalist soldiers held their ground against the rebelious troops. In the end, government forces won, but not after heavy casualties and losses in equipment.

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

Featuring:

FairChild ( @temper-temper ) and @askpokeeosin as pilots from the 205th Tactical Helicopter Wing, as rebel marines move in to capture Villamor Air Base

Jasmine Fahrenheit ( @tekbro ) as a rebel marine standing guard at the main entrance to Villamor Air Base.

Rooster as an army soldier while Camp Aguinaldo was being bombed by rebel piloted AT-28s.

@ask-jetstream as an F-5A pilot of the 6th Tactical Fighter Squadron, 5th Fighter Wing, as the squadron was being scrambled to counter the rebel AT-28s.

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accio-victuuri · 4 months

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excerpts about yibo and his films from this article: Side notes on the selection of the 36th China Golden Rooster Awards

Abstract: The 36th China Film Golden Rooster Awards produced a total of 93 nominations and 20 awards, which to a certain extent reflected the achievements of Chinese films in this award year in terms of artistic aesthetics, genre creation, ideological expression, and technological innovation. Judging from the award results, this year's films have outstanding performance in promoting the people's nature and reflecting the characteristics of the times. More outstanding films focus on the spiritual and aesthetic needs of the current people, use delicate and plain perspectives to get close to daily life, and use vivid lenses. Language describes the texture of life, empathizes with the warmth and coldness of life with sincere emotions, and leaves a vivid imprint of the times in light and shadow, reflecting the pursuit and exploration of realist aesthetics in Chinese films.

The judges believed that "Hidden Blade" used a unique image style to create the strange and turbulent situation in Shanghai during the Republic of China, and continuously enriched the historical narrative in the conventional spy war theme; it showed the survival dilemma of people living in the turbulent era, and unveiled It captures the hardship, bravery and sacrifice of the unknown heroes on the hidden front, and the metaphor system contained in the intricate non-linear narrative is modern and literary.

"Born To Fly" focuses on the group of test pilots in the new era, puts the narrative of family and country in the growth story of the test pilots, and tells the dedication and sacrifices made by several generations of test pilots in polishing the country's important weapons through extreme tests. , expressing the feelings of the country, the nation, and the comradeship in a real and moving way, creating a group of flesh-and-blood heroic test pilots.

( On his best supporting actor nomination ) Wang Yibo played a large number of roles in the film, and his performance was harmonious and unified with the overall expression of the film. The actor's efforts in figuring out the role can be seen in the handling of details, and the handling of the two action scenes was remarkable. as a new actor, he has broad development potential.

#wang yibo #GOLDEN ROOSTER AWARDS BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR NOMINEE WYB #i will always be proud of him

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theharddeck · 2 years

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out of the blue, clear sky (chapter one) // Jake Seresin x Reader

Pairing: hangman x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: what's a bit of state rivalry between pilots? You and Hangman see each other in a new light after a late night at a dive bar, and this started as a one shot, then suddenly it was 2k words of country karaoke, and now I want to write a fluffy love story

Warnings: 18+, minors please DNI -- this is a 5 chapter deal and this one is pretty PG, but it'll ratchet up to E in a later chapter, and I don't want to mislead anyone. In the interim, there's swearing, but yeah mostly flagging this because something smutty this way comes

Length: 3.2k

A/N: This is self-indulgent to the max, and payoff is late in coming, but I hope y’all enjoy it lol. I regret to inform you that Sold (The Grundy Country Auction Incident) is required listening before reading; it’s just important to note that it’s a fun/funny song, not a sultry one. Jake’s song is “Carried Away” by George Strait, also a delight, but that one is sweet.

tagging the usuals: @peakyrogers@winterrebel04 @blue-aconite and the folks who convinced me to post: @bioodforbiood @et-homephone

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five

Should you have been out this late, the night before you had drills in this morning? No.

Should you be taking anything anyone said at this hour seriously? No.

Were you all still going to be defensive when Bradley decided to be coastal elitist about something? Absolutely, yes.

“Man, we were having such a good night,” Fanboy muttered, as you, Bob, and Hangman were immediately up in arms.

“You can just say you don’t like when women have feelings, Bradford,” you said. (A grossly reductive accusation, to be sure, but if Rooster was going to generalize, you weren’t going to take the high road.)

Coyote snorted, taking another pull of his beer as Phoenix came back to the table, kicking her feet up on Bob’s lap.

“God, that felt good,” she sighed, holding out a hand and waiting for someone to put a drink into it. “Who’s next?”

“Presumably Hangman,” Bob said, handing her a glass, “to redeem the genre of country music.”

“Nah, I don’t sing,” Jake waved a hand airily, and you knew better than to look at him, but you did anyways.

Normally, you were sober enough to ignore any sorts of feelings that fluttered, unprovoked, in your stomach when you looked at Jake Seresin. He was a pilot like you, you were in the same detachment, it wasn’t going to be something you acted on, you were far from his type anyways…you had a million little rationalizations as to why a crush was impractical, but it persisted nonetheless.

Crushes were inconvenient like that.

This deep into the night, “normally” did not apply.

So you looked at him, sternly reminding yourself to not do anything so dramatic as let your breath catch, or pulse leap.

He didn’t seem nearly as deep in his cups as the rest of the group.

No, of course, he and Phoenix seemed to be the only ones whose eyes were still clear and faces weren’t flushed. In fact, he had the audacity to look as unfairly attractive as he did in the daytime in his uniform, even though you’d all been awake for close to twenty hours now. His blonde hair was mussed, and looked softer than normal, like he’d carded his fingers through it enough that any styling products had relinquished their hold, and it was a damn good look.

You frowned down at your drink, the deep umber liquid not seeming any lower, though you’d been nursing it for half an hour.

“It’s okay,” you said, to distract yourself, more than anything. “Texas doesn’t really count as Country, anyways.”

Mickey tittered, and you felt Jake’s eyes on you, but didn’t trust yourself to look up to meet them.

“Damn straight,” Jake huffed. “Texas was actually–”

“Its own country,” Reuben interrupted, longsuffering.

“For seven whole years,” Bradley continued, “an independent nation all of their own, called…”

“The Republic of Texas,” Javy lifted his glass. “And they were called Texians, actually, not Texans.”

The three of them clinked their glasses together in a cheers, and Jake held up his hands.

“Okay, okay,” he shrugged, nonplussed. “So, I’ve got a lot of state pride, sue me.”

“That’s okay,” Phoenix said, before winking almost imperceptibly at you. “Not like there’s any good country artists from Texas.”

Jake froze. “Okay, now, hang on–”

“Ah, you’re right,” you sighed, grateful for distraction of goading Hangman into singing. “Beyonce took all the musical talent, regardless of genre, and there’s no one left.”

Jake set his bottle down on the table. “That’s bold, coming from someone from Kentucky.”

“I can’t hear you over the sound of Kentucky-born legend Loretta Lynn,” you said calmly.

Jake sputtered. “Loretta–”

“Patty Loveless, too,” Bob said helpfully, and you didn’t know how he knew that, but you were grateful for the WSO’s encyclopedic memory. “And Chris Stapleton, if modern’s your thing.”

Jake gaped at the two of you, then held up a hand to count on his fingers. “Willie Nelson, Garth Brooks, George Strait–”

“Who?” you interrupted, innocently. Your dad had a George Strait cassette he’d played until the tape wore out, but Jake’s eyes widened almost comically.

“Please,” he asked, in the most serious tone you’d heard from him all night, “please, tell me you’re joking.”

Behind him, Reuben had a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh, and you managed to keep your expression wide-eyed and blank, shrugging lightly.

Jake stared at you for a long moment, then he stood up, sharply.

“Cretins,” Jake declared, pointing at you, then around at the group. “All of you!”

And he huffed his way up to the stage.

Phoenix leaned back in her chair to hold out her hand to you, palm up, which you high fived unashamedly as Jake aggressively flipped through the song book.

He punched a code into the machine on the edge of the stage, then dragged a stool to the middle of the stage.

“Evening, everyone,” he said into a mic, and you rolled your eyes as every female spine in the bar straightened, looking towards the stage. It wasn’t lost on you that he’d turned his accent up, as well as donning an air of “aw, shucks,” humility as he settled onto the barstool.

A couple cat calls echoed around the bar, as contemplative guitar strings plucked over the sound system.

“Notttt what I was expecting,” Coyote said under his breath, and Hangman cleared his throat before he started singing.

“I don’t take my whisky to extremes,” Jake sang, looking pointedly at the group of you, with the near empty bottle on the table, and Rooster flipped him off. “I don’t believe in chasing crazy dreams…”

As his voice ran around the bar, tables fell quiet, turning back to the stage. Hangman’s voice, normally more callous than decadent, seemed softer, and the simple lyrics of the song rang like a promise.

“My feet are planted firmly on the ground,” Jake crooned, and that really was the only word for it, an effortless spell none of you had been expecting, “but darlin’, when you come around…”

“Well shit,” Fanboy muttered to the group as Jake went all-in on the chorus, “how are we supposed to make fun of him when he’s actually good?”

Shit indeed.

Because he sounded like someone sweet who would promise forever to a girl on the way back from a Friday Night football game, someone who'd give you their jacket and get you home by 9pm. Some sound tech was conspiring against you, because they dimmed the lights in the bar, a soft spotlight falling onto Jake. And he should’ve looked worse like that, in the dramatic lighting, but it made his jaw seem sharper, his eyes brighter, and if you listened closely, you could hear the sound of every woman in this bar falling a little in love.

They cheered when he finished the chorus, and Hangman was eating it up, wiping his palms on his jeans, and pushing to his feet.

“This has backfired,” Phoenix mumbled, when Jake hopped off the stage, weaving his way through the tables, starting on the next verse.

“We have created a monster,” you agreed.

“No ‘we’ about it,” Javy muttered. “This is all you guys.”

And you supposed it was.

Jake was making his way over to your table, and you steeled yourself for his arrogance, but were still unprepared.

He smirked as he siddled over to Phoenix, and she rolled her eyes but when he held out a hand, she extended hers, and the rest of the audience squealed when he brushed a kiss over the edges of her knuckles.

You winced internally, why did he have to be so handsome?? He got away with stuff like this, and you couldn’t even be mad at him–

He turned to you.

It had to be the whisky, that’s why you felt the weight of his eyes so heavily. The green of them glittered in the spotlight, and a part of you was loyally muttering “asshole” but another part of you felt like giggling with the rest of the bar.

And then he walked towards you.

“I get carried away by the look, by the light in your eyes,” he sang, holding eye contact in a way that had to be indecent. You needed to look away so you could remember how to breathe, but you couldn’t back down, so you tilted your head and raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

Which, of course, he took as a challenge.

“Before I even realize the ride I’m on, baby, I’m long gone,” Jake sang, stepping closer.

He reached for your hand, and if Phoenix could do it, you could too–but he didn’t kiss your hand. No, he lifted it, prompting you to stand and spinning you, like prom. The spotlight had followed him, and you felt it brightening the air around you as he pulled you into it.

“I get carried away, nothing matters, but being with you,” he sang, and instead of letting you wilt back into your seat and out of the light, he dropped your hand around the back of his neck, between the ends of his hair and the top of his shirt, eyes smirking with the challenge, as he continued. “Like a feather flying high up in the sky, on a windy day, I get carried away.”

There was more of the song, you knew that.

But in another, very real sense, you were closer to Hangman than you ever remembered being, close enough to notice his green eyes had flecks of gold in them, and that he had the smallest indentations in the skin along the edges of his eyes, from where his face held the memory of past smiles. And now you knew what his hair felt like between your fingers, and that it wasn’t cologne, he just smelled good.

“I get carried away,” Jake repeated, stepping just a step closer to you, and maybe it made you a coward, but you took a step back. He smirked, victorious, and turned, letting your hand fall back to your side as the spotlight followed him back up to the stage.

Mickey opened his mouth and you glared at him. “Not a word, Fanboy.”

He closed his mouth with a snap, but the rest of the group looked entirely too amused for your comfort.

“Thank you, ladies and gents,” Jake was saying on the stage, dropping into a deep bow and putting the microphone back. “And, uh, Kentucky?”

You looked up at the stage, annoyed to find Jake’s eyes already on you, even through the glare of the spotlight.

“Would love,” he grinned, all teeth, “to see you top that.”

You heard Rooster chuckle, and that, more than anything, had you pushing out of your chair up to the stage.

Jake offered you a hand as you got closer, to help you up the steps and you glowered at him as you took it.

“Thanks, darlin’,” you muttered.

“Anytime, sugar,” he shot back, and you hated that his voice sounded way more unaffected than yours.

You were flipping through the songbook before you realized how impossible this was about to be.

Natasha had already trotted out the ‘fuck all men’ Carrie Underwood play, and Jake had taken the soft and sweet option; you had to do something different. Something in the ‘Chicken Fried’ vein would be funny, but it would also prove Bradley's point; Gretchen Wilson would do the trick, but she wasn’t from Kentucky…

Your eyes fell on a John Michael Montgomery song and you smiled to yourself.

Perfect.

“Hiya, folks,” you said cheerily, going for cutesy rather than borrowing Jake’s bashful routine. A couple girls were glaring at you, having seen Jake serenade you and misinterpreting that familiarity, but you ignored them.

“You’ve got this, babe!” Phoenix called, and you heard Payback and Fanboy clapping loudly.

You gave them a mock curtsy, and waited for the song to pick up.

And boy howdy, did it.

A banjo, loud and proud, curled through the bar and Bob’s eyes lit up, even as Jake’s jaw dropped.

If you could land this, it would be epic.

You heard recognition ripple through the room and someone in the front row started clapping along to the beat. You smiled at them gratefully as the fast tempo whirled around you.

“Well, I went down to the Grundy county auction,” you sang, at an auctioneer’s pace, hopping off the stage and wandering through the crowd like Jake had, “where I saw something I just had to have.”

You’d upped your accent too, and it wasn’t smooth the way Jake’s was, but you knew it didn’t sound half bad in the tenor key.

“My mind told me I should proceed with caution,” you sang, getting closer to your table, and holding out a hand to Natasha, like Jake had, “but my heart said go ahead and place a bid on that.”

She stood, highly amused, and you twirled her into you so her back was pressed against the front of your body. Her hand slid up your legs as she put on a show, loyal like you knew she would be, and you could focus on the rapid fire lyrics as the bar cheered for Nat’s dancing skills.

"And I said, “Hey pretty lady, won't you give me a sign? I'd give anything to make you mine o' mine; I'll do your biddin' and be at your beck and call."

Natasha was laughing, you could feel her upper body shaking but she rolled her hips and you went with her and was Coyote miming throwing money at the two of you, so you leaned into it.

You finished the chorus in a rush, people whooped, the sultry mood Jake had said absolutely decimated by the ridiculous patter.

You spun Phoenix back out and she sank gracefully back into a seat as you walked around the group of your friends, their boots stomping supportively. As you sang the next verse, you avoided looking at Jake, knowing you needed to keep your momentum and circling back to kneel in front of Bob dramatically.

The sweet WSO blushed at the attention, and the bar whooped when you crooked a finger under his chin to tilt his face up to you, before pointing out his ‘ruby red lips, blonde hair, blue eyes’ that matched the line in chorus.

“If you know it, sing along,” you yelled into the mic before pointing it to the ceiling as you weaved your way back to the stage, relieved beyond belief when the rest of the inebriated crowd joined you in singing the last chorus.

It was a mercy, because you needed to breathe.

You stepped back up onto the stage, having caught your breath, and ending the song on a yodel that had everyone laughing. Were they in love with you—no. But they seemed entertained, and you’d take that; you bowed deeply as the bar cheered, blowing a smug kiss at Hangman when you came back up.

Which was a mistake.

Because the look on his face was something you hadn’t expected to see, an expression that wavered between respect and something you didn’t recognize, and you weren’t prepared to find out. A moment later, it was gone, chased away by a dimpled smile and the tipping of an imaginary hat as Jake broke his gaze away from you.

What the hell was that?

You fiddled with the mic, stepping down off the stage and nodding to a couple folks who lifted their drinks as you made your way back to the group. They cheered for you good naturedly, and gave another curtsy as you found your seat.

“Who knew she had pipes?” Payback teased, uncapping a fresh beer and passing it to you.

“Anything for the virtue of the Bluegrass state,” you demured, taking the beer gratefully.

Someone from another group was up on the stage, you heard a phone ring distantly, and the normal din of the bar creeped back in as the adrenaline seeped out of your system.

You were sure you were all going to regret this, in the morning.

Well, most of you.

Natasha still looked fine and Jake…

Jake wasn’t at the table.

You frowned slightly, trying to keep your expression neutral as you leaned forward in your seat, looking around the room to find the Texan. He wasn’t in your row, he wasn’t at the bar getting an order…

Your eyes found him by the bar’s entrance, holding his phone to his head with one hand, the other blocking his ear. He was pacing, and when he turned back towards the group of you, his forehead was wrinkled in an uncharacteristic frown.

His eyes met yours.

For the second time tonight, you read something in his face that you knew you hadn’t been meant to see.

Jake’s jaw tightened and he turned away, pacing again. When he got closer to the door, he reached for it, but a moment later, his hand was back by his ear, blocking out sound as he listened intently. You saw him start for the door again, but each time needed to pull back to listen more closely to whoever was on the other end of the line.

You didn’t plan to head towards him, but your feet had you halfway across the bar before you realized you weren’t in your row. As you got closer, you could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves, even if you couldn’t hear what he was saying.

When you opened the door for him, Jake’s gaze felt searching.

You held the heavy door, pressing yourself against the wall of the bar so Jake could go by. As he edged by you, his eyes flitted back to yours briefly.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, and he waited for your chin to dip in a nod of acknowledgement before he was turning, jogging towards his truck. You watched him struggle with his keys in the dim parking lot light, and then pinch the bridge of his nose as he realized he couldn’t drive, not like this. He turned towards the intersection, waving as a cab came into view.

“What was that about?”

You jumped at the question, surprised to find Bob standing next to you.

“I don’t know,” you said, uncertainly. A cab pulled up to the curb and Jake folded his long body into it, the phone still pressed to his ear.

You realized Bob was holding the door for you, having quietly leaned up against it to take some of the weight so you didn’t have to.

“We should probably head back, right?” you asked, and Bob nodded, slowly.

“Early morning, all that,” he agreed.

You drew in a quick breath, before smiling automatically, following Bob back inside. As you gathered your things, closed at your portion of the tab, and fielded compliments from strangers, you weren’t certain if it was the night air or the expression on Hangman’s face as he’d left so quickly that had you feeling suddenly sober.

Chapter Two

#jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #as always my tag list is v small so if you want to be on/off it lmk #how are we feeling about a chapter fic??? never posted on here instead of ao3 #so that's nervewracking #ahhhh pls tell me if you like it haha #misskielwrites

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la-fumettista · 2 years

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Drawn To Key West is almost ready to be printed.

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onlyvrse · 2 years

Text

attached by the hip

“rooster has a sister? since when?”

“the living proof is right here, baby.”

“it’s okay seresin, I'm so glad to know that you’d fuck me if i was a chick.”

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x female!reader!bradley’s sister

genre: crack, fluff? lil bit of angst

summary: in which bradshaws sister is painfully aware of the conflict between the two men, so she decides to give him a reality check, in true bradshaw fashion.

warnings: explicit language, hangman is a cocky bastard, mention of loss, sibling banter (if that counts as a warning?), teeny tiny top gun maverick spoilers and not proof read lol

a/n: permanently in all lowercase and no, it will not be changing. eat my ass. also i primarily froth over rooster, but this idea came to my head at work, i thought it’d be funny for bradshaw siblings to fuck with jake. also this is the first fic i've ever posted but i write a lot in my free time, so yeah?

word count: 2.6k

written listening to: i ain’t worried by one republic (what else lol)

this is purely a work of fiction

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you were oh-so painfully aware of the childish banter between your brother and hangman. bradley would always come home, fuming off his ass about how he had showed him up again in training, whether it be leaving his ass to fail the exercise by getting caught by maverick, or just being an uncooperative dickbrain (his words, not yours)- nevertheless, you were always there for him, not that you had much choice. you’d always be prepared back home with a six pack of beer to calm him down, let him talk for an hour or two before he’d head off to bed. it’d been like this for a long while, just you two. although you were only a few hours older than him, you and him both knew that he’d always be your “baby brother” to the end of time, despite his countless complaints of the endearing nickname. when your mother died a few years after your dad had, he was the only family you had left- and you two’d been attached by the hip ever since.

tonight, was no different than any other night from the past few weeks.

you were situated on the couch in the corner of the small living room, you hear the familiar hum of the bronco outside, alerting you of his return. you lift your head up from your phone, anticipating the sound of the key turning in the doorknob. instead, you hear the thud of your brother’s head hit the door followed by a long grunt of what you were pretty sure was “fuuuuuucking christ.” you quip an eyebrow at the figure that walks in after his little moment outside. “you good, brad?” “you already know the answer.” you hum, pursing your lips into a thin line as you crack open a can, handing it to him as he sits down. he mutters a small thank you under his breath, letting his eyes gaze out the window.

“don’t let him get to you, roos.” you say, calling him by your shortened version of his callsign. he’s quiet for a moment before answering, “i don't know how he does it either, but he does.” he pauses, letting his eyes hit the rug by his feet before making eye contact with you, “he mentioned dad today.” you freeze, looking at him in disbelief as you grip the can of beer in your hand just the tiniest bit tighter. “he what?” “he mentioned dad today.” “what the fuck did he say?” you seethed, already feeling your dislikeness to the man you’ve never met before growing. “just mentioned how mav used to fly with him s’all, said it to get under my skin ‘nd it worked. almost punched the bastard.” “why didn’t you?” you question immediately, giggling at the end which of your sentence which, thank god, gets the corners of his lips to rise, even if it was just for a little bit.

you hated seeing him like this, he never let his anger truly overcome him, but you knew if he let it all build up and snapped, that asshole would be the one in the hospital bed- not bradley. nights like these were to prevent that from happening, that’s what you had convinced yourself at least.

you sat there for a few hours, letting him talk about his day as you shared the pack of beer, reminiscing about childhood antics and talking shit about the cocky blonde aviator.

after all, who bradley disliked. you disliked.

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you really wanted to piss this hangman guy off.

like, really fucking bad.

little to your brothers knowledge, you had your own plans with how to deal with the problematic lieutenant, concocting up your own plan soon after the night he had told you that the bastard had brought up your late father. you knew that on days off of his training your brother would hang out at penny’s bar with the aviators that he actually tolerated. you knew of phoenix and bob, the two had actually visited your shared home a couple of times for drinks- even though most of the time bob hurled them back up in your garbage bin shortly after consuming said drinks- you got along with both of them well and ended up becoming good friends with the two over time. you never had the courage to accompany your brother on his nights off at the bar.

except tonight.

you had spent stupidly long getting yourself dolled up, actually putting effort into your appearance rather than opting for a shirt and sweats. you donned a little black dress, makeup (for once,) and had your hair up in a low messy bun with a bag slung lazily over your shoulder. rooster’s about to leave before he hears the clicking of your heels against the hardwood floor. “you look nice. wait- did i forget something important again?” he questioned, you shake your head, engrossed into the conversation you were having with phoenix over text.

phoenix: drinks at the hard deck tonight! are you actually gonna come this time? (9:01pm)

you: yes dumbass but! if hangman makes eyes at me i’m not related to roos (9:02pm)

phoenix: hangman?? the fuck are you up to? (9:02pm)

you: you’ll see (9:03pm)

delivered

“are you going to pen’s?” “yeah, why?” “can i come?” he tilts his head to the side before crossing his arms, fiddling with the keys in his hand. “uh- sure. but why? you never come to pen’s?” you lift your eyes up from your phone to look at your bewildered brother. “dunno, felt like having fun tonight.” he scoffs, feigning offence as he lifts his hand to his chest, “i'm not fun to drink with? you need other people!?”

“yeah, yeah get in the fucking car roos.”

“you’re so mean to me.”

the car ride there is uneventful, you both hum along to the songs on the radio but conversation stays minimal, your eyes are on your phone in attempts to entertain yourself on the short car ride there. rooster parks in the makeshift dirt parking space before letting himself out, you following suit after shoving your phone into the ridiculously tiny bag you picked last minute.

“you go in first, i'll stay out here a bit.” “okay? fuckin’ weirdo.”

you roll your eyes at him, shooing him away with your hands flailing around in the air. your brother was bewildered before, but now bewildered seemed like an understatement. he looked so genuinely confused you almost wanted to laugh. you watch as your brother clad in one of your father’s old hawaiian shirts lets the door close behind him, you wait a few minutes in the salty air before letting yourself in.

your senses are immediately hit with the smell of sweat, alcohol and the mumble of voices that blend in with each other. god, when was the last time you came in here? “y/n!” a familiar chirp voice snaps you out of your thoughts, phoenix approaching you with her arms extended- you lean into her embrace “god, you look good as shit! why do you never come out here with us?” you shrug, and she rolls her eyes at the physical response before hauling your ass to the bar. “penny! two beers please.” she calls out, and the woman behind the counter smiles at you, “haven’t seen you in here for a while, how are you?” she asks, grabbing two bottles by the neck and sliding them over to the bartop towards you, you stop the bottle with the back of your hand before grabbing it to take a sip, “mm, good, i dunno, busy with school.” penny hums, “come here more often, doors are always open for the bradshaws.” she claims, sending you a knowing wink after. you smile and nod in response, knowing the on and off relationship between her and maverick, your uncle. well, kind of? you’re not sure. it was complicated.

“hold on, coyote’s ass is getting beat by payback right now, i'll be back!” you laugh as you glance over, and indeed, the person you assume to be coyote doesn't look too happy as the other man, payback continues to pocket balls one after the other. phoenix is long gone before a raspy voice from behind you speaks,

“as i live and breathe. what’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” you swivel in your chair, turning and taking in the man in front of you, tight white shirt paired with denim jeans, a overly confident grin plastered on his face, “waiting for a man like you to come and save me.” you joke, taking a sip from your beer. he laughs, a hearty one at that, “name’s jake. my friends call me hangman.” you can't help but bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile at the realisation that this was the cocky blonde aviator you had devised your plan against. you know he notices this, as he's basically already undressed you in his head. “y/n,” “that’s a pretty name, matches the girl.” he says, flashing you a million dollar smile with a toothpick between his teeth and you can’t help but laugh at the arrogant attempt to bed you. “why hangman?” you ask, hoping the conversation goes where you want it to.

“it’s my callsign.” “callsign?” “like a nickname, for people in the navy. for us aviators, it’s just an easier way to identify each other and everyone’s aircraft.” you feign interest, like you don't already know this: eyes sparkling up at him as you gasp, “you’re in the navy?” “yes ma’am, lieutenant seresin.” he answers proudly, saluting coyly before leaning in closer to you, close enough you could count the eyelashes. “so, you fly planes and stuff?” you say, voice dripped in lust as your hand is now resting on his chest “yes ma’am” he says again, letting his hand lean against the bar behind you, and you watch as the muscles in his arm ripple from the movement.

shame, you thought. he was a pretty guy, but way too cocky to achieve anything other than a one night stand with a woman.

“that makes a lot more sense,” you giggle, letting your body weight shift into the arm that was next to you, he reacts to this well, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he eyes where your skin made contact with his. he raises a brow, “does it now?” “uh-huh,” you smile, raising your drink to your lips as he watches, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

you two continue to talk, you let the man talk about himself, about how he always wins exercises against his teammates, namedropping your brother and you can't help but giggle. he buys another beer for you, and eventually he takes a seat at the empty barstool next to you and he leans in closer, you turn on the charm you didn't know you had with men and soon enough he’s leaning in for a kiss. you stop him with a finger to his lips, he opens his eyes, looking at you quizzically as you smile, “i'm not that easy, lieutenant.” and he frowns slightly, leaning back into his chair, “alright then, doll, what does a guy like me, have to do to take you home?” you smile, toying with the rim of your empty beer bottle as you sigh, “you’re good seresin, if i think of anything i'll let you know” “i know, i’m good, i'm very good.” you give him a quick wink before standing up to his dismay, spinning around on your heel as you ask penny to ring your tab. “it’s on me, doll.” he says, shooting penny a smile as he gives her his card, “why thank you, lieutenant.” before you can fully walk away, his hand grabs your wrist gently, “let me take you home, pretty girl?” he questions, a hopeful lilt in his voice.

“we’ll see.” you smile before eventually going to find phoenix and rooster.

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“fuck were you doing with hangman over there?” phoenix asks, and you lean into her, whispering about the plan you childishly came up with in a few minutes after hearing about his comment on your father. she lets her jaw drop, “you’re so petty! i love it.” rooster picks up on something and joins the conversation, hands on his hips as he quips “okay, what’s up with you two?” he asks, you and phoenix still giggling to yourselves, “well bradshaw! your genius sister here, is trying to get bagman into thinking she wants to fuck him, before brutally, oh! so brutally letting him down.” she speaks, clinging to your brother while dramatically falling to her knees as she says this. “this is why you’ve been acting weird?” you nod, “fuck, you really are my sister huh?” he chuckles, putting an arm around you, rocking you slightly as he ruffles your hair “yeah yeah,” you start, swatting his hand away from your head. “‘s not over yet. he doesn’t know we're related. like at all.” “pfff, seriously? i saw it miles away. god that guy only thinks with his dick.” phoenix chimes in before looking behind you.

“rooster! hands off the pretty lady.” the same voice calls out from behind you again, hangman’s hand landing on the small of your back as your brother takes a step back away from you two, shooting him a look. “lil’ too late for this one bradshaw.” hangman triumphantly says, snaking his arm around your waist as bradley takes everything in him not to sputter out into laughter, he lifts his arms up, seemingly in defeat. “she’s all yours man.” he puts both hands on your waist as your brother walks away, losing his shit when he joins phoenix and bob, watching you two from afar, you turn to the blonde man in-front of you. “you’re determined, lieutenant. i'll give you that.” “does this mean i can take you home?”

you look up at him with doe eyes, fluttering your lashes as you ask. “yours or mine?”

the smile he gives you is blinding, god what a waste. “yours, little lady.” hangman gladly takes your hand in his, leading you out of the bar. phoenix and rooster watch from a nearby window as he circles his arms around your hips again, this time though, your circle yours around his neck in return “take me home, lieutenant seresin.” “show me the way, doll” you laugh, and he admires the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, he lets his forehead rest against yours “i’m being dead serious i have no idea where your house is” he says, joining you in your laughter. you look up at him again, dragging your finger down the middle of his chest. you take your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“don’t worry, you won’t have to.”

“pardon?” he asks before you abruptly cut him off “bradley! let’s go!” jake looks at you with disbelief, his jaw slack as the hands resting around your waist go tense, rooster and phoenix show up behind you, seemingly out of no where as bradley smiles at jake. “you.. you guys are dating?” you cackle, slightly cringing at the sound of your laugh reverberating around the previously quiet neighbourhood “god no. we came out of the same vagina for christ sake.”

“rooster has a sister? since when?”

“the living proof is right here, baby.”

“it’s okay seresin, I'm so glad to know you’d fuck me if i was a chick.”

seresin lets out an exhausted but very clearly pissed off groan as all four of you erupt into loud laughter, he flips you all off as he walks back into the bar. “god, you were so convincing i thought we almost lost you.” you dramatically bow before pretending to be offended by her remark.

“god no! my eyes are on payback.”

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfic #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #hangman fic #hangman #hangman top gun #jake seresin fanfic #hangman fanfic #phoenix top gun #bob top gun #coyote top gun #payback top gun #penny top gun #maverick top gun

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