iamJuliet

I need a stucky fanfic in which Bucky is a rockstar and plays the drums (you know, like Ric Allen from Def Leppard whom had his left arm amputated).

Can someone suggest or send me their favorite Hangster/Sereshaw fic?

You can find part 1 here if you want

Jake has always been fond of sunrises.

Back at home, in Texas, he would get up at 5.30 AM every morning just to sit on his family's ranch house patio, a mug full of freshly brewed coffee in his hands, bathing in the golden light.

Maybe it was the light or the chill of the early morning, but he always felt at ease watching the sun slowly and shily peaking behind the horizon. Especially while on leave post the suicide mission. He craved that time alone, lost in his thoughts trying to sort them out.

Indeed, Jake lost no time flying back home during their four weeks of leave. He needed to breathe familiar air, pace. He needed to shout his mind off as he felt unease in his own skin. So he packed everything and left in the middle of the night.

The Daggers are still at his neck for this stunt he pulled.

But being back in Texas somehow helped with his PTSD. He started having trouble sleeping the very same night he saved Mav's and Rooster's life, on the carrier. Javi had to shake him awake and hold him through the shock twice that night. Every time he closes his eyes, Mav and Rooster would die, right in front of him.

But even being at home wasn't enough sometimes. Some nights he re-lived the mission, his mind coming up with the most disturbing scenarios, and in none of them, Bradley and Maverick made it out alive.

However, waking up and watching the sunrise, somehow soothed him, lifting the thick veil of the nightmares.

And right there, up in Mission Trails Regional Park, watching a still half-asleep San Diego stretching itself awake in the warm light of the morning, Jake was feeling like he could finally breathe again. He was starting to feel at home in San Diego too. He had a family there too now.

*click* Rooster.

"Portraying a National treasure Bradshaw?" chucked Hangman turning around, smirking at the fellow pilot.

"You mean the view right?" laughed Rooster lowering the Leica.

"I meant myself, but whatever sails your boat" answered Jake following Bradley along the tiny viewpoint they were on.

He soon started fidgeting with his water flask carabiner while peacing behind Rooster. Jake was feeling restless, something was buzzing underneath his skin, and he was unable to shake Bradley's words out of his head: I trust you.

"Here, take this and do something, you are driving me insane" said suddenly Bradley shaking the younger out of his trance and placing the Fujifilm in his hands.

Jake was at a loss for words. What was he supposed to do with this thing?

"Don't look at her like that, I set her in auto mode you should be fine" said Rooster, reaching for the camera switch, gently brushing Jake's hand in the process.

Damn.

He suddenly felt the pressure: what he was supposed to portray? What was the correct way to do it? He had never used a camera before, for god's sake.

"I promise, it is easier than it seems. Don't think, just do" smiled warmly Bradley, leaving then Jake, and returning to his photos.

So he started clicking away, following his wingman.

________

Previous chapters: story, photos, post

———

Here’s Bradley’ s cameras collection.

His most prized one: the Leica M6. It was his dad’s camera, the one with which Nick pictured most of Bradley’s childhood. Mav had told him once how his father got that camera by beating a fellow pilot at pool. The one and only time he actually won a game.

Next up we have the Fujifilm X-Pro2, Bradley’s favorite. It was his latest purchase before leaving his squadron in Japan. Compact, and yet so versatile and sharp.

Bradley’s first mirrorless: the Fujifilm X-T3.

Lastly, Bradley’s impulse purchase: the Fujifilm X-100f. After the suicide mission the urge to freeze in time people and memories was more pressuring than ever. So he wanted something to take everywhere with him, lightweight and compact, with a fixed lens.

This is part 1 of ?

I am a little Hangster/Sereshaw biased so I hope you don’t mind.

—

Bradley loves going on these “photography strolls”, as he calls them. Wandering around old suburbs outside town, or pacing along the beachside near his little bungalow, bathing in the golden hour, with his dad’s Leica M6 strapped around his neck.

Everyone knows it.

If he is not answering his phone, nine times out of ten he is somewhere with his camera shoved up his face, or holed up into his studio editing images while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits.

All the Daggers, at some point or another, have joined him.

And they did absolutely hate it.

Bradley would spent hours pacing around the same spot, or remaining so far behind that everyone started to call him “Slow Ride”.

Except for Jake. Well he would still call Bradley “Slow Ride” like the others do, but he actually didn’t mind tagging along with photographer-Rooster, jumping in his shoots and making the worst faces possible.

It was nice, it shouted his thoughts away for a while. He liked the slow peace of the strolls, the hazy light of the late afternoon. Or the way Bradley squeezed his eyebrows together while focusing on catching the perfect shot, or the little “yes!” he whisper-shouted every time he successfully framed the perfect moment. Or the way he would proudly shove his Fujifilm in Jake’s face, stars in his eyes, showing him a picture he was particularly satisfied of.

So when Rooster asked the Daggers group chat if anyone wanted to keep him company on a stroll that Sunday, Hangman was the only one who agreed. Instantly.

He was a little disappointed in the others, Bradley had spent days talking their ears off about how he just got a new Portra 400 film in the mail and couldn’t wait to load it. He was so excited, already planning where to go and everything… how could they let him down like that? So he offered.

—

So at 5:00 AM on Sunday morning, Hangman was pulling his Jeep in Bradley’s driveway cursing at himself and the fellow pilot.

Rooster decided that he wanted to catch the sunrise light, and went ballistic planning a brief trekking tour somewhere not too far halfway up the Californian trails. Departure time: 5 AM sharp.

A crime. But again, Jake offered.

“Bagman” greeted him Rooster opening the passenger’s door. He was sporting a long sleeve denim shirt on top of his usual white undershirt, dog tags in plain sight. His Leica was already strapped securely across his chest, while one of his Fujis was sitting comfortably in his hands. His small backpack at his feet.

He was a damn sight.

Hangman had eyes okay, and Bradley was a damn fine man. But he was also a great pilot, a unsurprisingly amazing teacher, and a really impressive photographer.

Jake was starting to have it bad.

Over time, he has learned to recognize all of Bradley’s cameras. He owned four: two mirrorless — a Fujifilm X-T3 and a Fujifilm X-Pro2 —, a compact Fujifilm X100f, and his dad’s Leica M6. A lot of Fujis, yes, the perks of being stationed for a while in Japan: full access to cameras at cheaper prices.

Jake’s favorite one was the X100f, it was beautiful and looked less intimidating than the others, almost easy to use even for someone like him that didn’t know shit about photography. It was also the one that Rooster took everywhere. And it was exactly the X100f that Bradley was grasping nervously but still with gentleness.

“Bradshaw” responded Hangman starting the Jeep “remember me not to indulge anymore your photography extravaganza”.

“Whatever Hangman, I know you secretly love it” laughed Bradley tapping the right address into Maps.

They drove in comfortable silence for about fifteen minutes, when Jake decided to ask Bradley about the cameras.

“So what’s with the X100f? I thought you wanted to shoot film? With the Leica?” in his peripheral view he saw Bradley widening his eyes almost in disbelief. Did he say something wrong? Did he insulted his cameras in some way?

“I…brought the Fuji as a backup, in case I wanted to shoot more casually” answered Rooster once regained his composure “but if you want to, I was thinking you could’ve tried taking a couple of shoot with it? I’ll show you how” proposed almost sheepishly the older pilot.

Now it was Hangman’s turn to wide his eyes in disbelief. What? “Are you seriously trusting me with it?” asked the younger stopping at a red light and turning completely to Bradley.

He couldn’t believe it. Rooster was willingly sharing with him his most treasured passion, that thing that deeply linked him to his long gone dad. Bradley was willingly putting in Jake’s hands one of his most valuable possession. Bradley was willingly showing Jake his world, teaching him how to read his heart.

“I mean, I trust you enough to be my wingman, so why not?”

Damn. It would be a hell of a day for Jake’s heart. And it was just barely after 6:00 AM.

—

That’s it for now.

Let me know what you think about it.

If someone want to write something too about Photographer Rooster please tag me, I would love to read it.

In both Top Gun movies, especially the second one, photography has a huge role in preserving and creating memories for the Bradshaws (creating memories for Goose, preserving memories for Rooster, Mav has tons of photographs,…).

So I was wondering, would also Rooster follow in his father steps even on this?

Would photography be Rooster’s favorite medium to frame memories or important moments of his life?

Would he keep a compact camera on him everywhere he goes?

Would he shoot film or digital? (I think digital mostly, but he would plan photographic trips just to shot on his father’s old film Leica)

Because I totally think photography is how Rooster express his feelings. Tons of photos of the people he loves (the Daggers, Mav), the places that means the most to him (his mom’s favorite spot on the beach, Mav’s hangar, the Hard Deck), everything.

Here the Spotify link if you want it (featuring Queen, Bon Jovi, Guns N’ Roses, Bruce Springsteen, Metallica, etc.)

—————

But let’s get down to business. Here’s my top 15

“When I’m Gone” by 3 Doors Down - it fits so well it hurts. It’s them.

“Let’s hurt tonight” by OneRepublic - again, it’s them. I am ready to fight to prove my point.

“Feels Like the First Time” by Foreigner - I mean.

“Carry on Wayward Son” by Kansas - this is Rooster (this is also Dean Winchester, but we aren’t dealing with it right now).

“Listen to Your Heart” by Roxette - picture this: Bradley, heartbroken, because his stupid pride and inability to talk about his past and his feelings made Jake leave.

“Cowboys from Hell” by Pantera - perfect backtrack for some flight scene. Pilots walking on the tarmac getting their aircrafts ready.

“Modern Day Cowboy” by Tesla - this is Hangman.

“Kickstart My Heart” by Mötley Crüe - this one should have made it to the official soundtrack.

“Jolene” by Dolly Parton - this is Jake’s jam, I bet he sings his heart out on this one. You can’t change my mind.

“Rock You Like an Hurricane” by Scorpions - I think this one speaks for itself.

“Edge of Seventeen” by Stevie Nicks - again, this is Hangman’s jam.

“Heaven in Your Eyes” by Loverboy - this is from the first Top Gun movie.

“Play That Funky Music” by Wild Cherry - cooking and dancing.

“Runnin’ Wild” by Airbourne - let’s turn and burn.

“Renegade” by Styx - Hangman, again.