My Dreamland ✨

your first concert

your last concert

your next concert

ask a crumb of me

Hangster | Explicit | 1/7 chapters Fake dating, mutual pining, Dad!Jake, post-canon, slow burn, idiots in love, eventual smut

"I just don't want to show up and have everyone feel bad for me because I'm single, alone, and pathetic," Jake admits in a rush, taking a sip of his beer to stop any other truths from escaping their cage at the back of his throat.

One of Rooster's eyebrows quirks, his mustache twitches, "But you are single, alone, and pathetic."

"You're such a fucking asshole," Jake says, kicking his shin with a socked foot. "I don't know why everyone likes you so much."

"Because I might be an asshole, but I'm also very charming," Bradshaw grins at him. It's true, even if it annoys Jake to no end. "Why don't you bring someone?"

Jake gestures around the kitchen, "See anyone for me to take?"

"Dating is a thing that you're allowed to do," Bradshaw offers, annoyingly sincere. "Maybe I could help solve your problem."

"What? Are you going to set me up on a series of dates until I find Miss or Mister Right?" Jake asks, rolling onto his side to look at Bradshaw. He's looking back already, mouth quirked up at the side.

"I might not be Mister Right, but I'm free in October and I love an all inclusive," Bradshaw shrugs as best as he can laying on the floor. "What do you say, Seresin? Want a date to your exes wedding?"

Jake blue screens, his entire brain goes completely blank for a second before coming back online, "You want to go to my exes wedding with me? In Mexico? For a week?"

Half Agony, Half Hope

TGM | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin | M | 11.5k

In the dying days of 1944, Bradley Bradshaw finds Lieutenant Jake Seresin in a hospital bed, immobile, angry, and marred by the scars of war.

As an unlikely friendship forms and the extent of Jake’s injuries begin to materialize, Bradley finds himself confronting two immutable truths—the cost of loneliness, and the price of hope.

Read on Ao3

Jake stepped onto the ladder. “Don’t use this as an excuse to cop a feel.”

“Then don’t fall.”

“I’m not going to fall.”

He wobbled a bit, and a hand grabbed onto his ass to steady him. He glared over his shoulder. Bradley grinned and waited for him to continue. He was a steady presence beneath him the rest of the way up, which was mostly smooth going. 

The ladder led to the roof. As Jake stepped onto the concrete, his breath caught. The stadium sat right in front of them, down the hill. The field and video boards were just visible.

Bradley jumped beside him. He wiped his hands and nodded to the side. Jake followed him to the edge, where they plopped down cross-legged. 

“I started covering the games for the paper my sophomore year, but when I was a freshman, before I could afford tickets, I’d climb up here,” Bradley explained. “I used to sit here and dream about the day I’d be part of it all, not on the outside looking in. I wanted to make people feel like they were right there with me. Not like I was in their living room, but like they were there, at the stadium.”

The way he talked about football had the same romance that Jake had always carried for it. It wasn’t just a game. It was everything. He’d met his fair share of people who half-believed it, but Bradley….Bradley loved it to his core. It was part of his very damn essence, something he’d shaped his life around, just as Jake had.

On the dark roof, lit only by the moon and the distant lights of the stadium, he saw Bradley for the first time. 

“You’re good at it,” Jake admitted. 

Bradley turned to him. “Was that a compliment?”

“Just callin’ it like it is.”

Bradley stretched out, and Jake did not stare at his ridiculously long legs as he leaned back on his palms. “Careful, Seresin, might think you’re starting to like me.”

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here on this damn roof in this ugly ass blue and gold.”

The corner of Bradley’s lips curled. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.”

Jake kicked at his foot with his own. Bradley’s grin didn’t dim as he nudged him back and remained with his ankle pressed against him, as at ease as always.

Quiet overtook the rooftop. They watched the last stragglers below until Bradley spoke again. “You’re good at it, too, you know.”