Icemav - Blog Posts
happy new year my lovelies, and may your favourite emotional support gay ship provide you endless comfort✨️❤️
I'M MELTING THIS IS SO CUTE
I have no idea if you're still taking hcs but I have one I wanted to share.
Ice doesn't style his hair one day and Mav is freaking out because its so soft and fluffy while Ice just accepts his fate and lets Mav play with it (I'm ignoring the fact that bleach destroys hair because why not)
Thank you for this ask. It gives me a chance to write some IceMav fluff (no pun intended). Of course this fits into the timeline. This one is a little shorter, but this concept will be back at a different time in the series as well.
I hope you like it. Have a wonderful day/night! 💙
It was their first weekend in their house. The move was efficient but unpacking had been an ordeal. Mostly because they had a three-month deployment in the middle of it. They'd returned last week and worked each night to finish putting things away. There were four boxes left this morning.
Before the sun crawled its way over the horizon, Ice slid out of bed determined to sort those boxes before breakfast. He looked at the brunette sleeping peacefully and reluctantly drug himself toward the extra bedroom and the last boxes. The first box was a landmine, the items belonged to Goose. Tom carefully folded the top of the box back and carefully placed it on the shelf in the closet. He unpacked the spare linens from the second box, tucking them carefully into the dresser. The third box contained a few sentimental items from his childhood. He slid it on the shelf too. He pulled the books out of the last box and placed a few on the shelf in the room and carried the rest of the stack downstairs to the living room.
Tom climbed the stairs and slipped into the bathroom for his shower. He dried his hair with a towel and ran his fingers through it, forgoing styling product. By the time he finished shaving and brushing his teeth, his hair was too dry to style. He shrugged and started down the stairs toward the kitchen. He smiled as he smelled bacon and coffee and heard Mav humming.
Mav heard him coming and turned with a mug of coffee as he approached. "Morning Tom." He sighed contentedly, both glad to be home. Tom leaned in for a kiss, noting the minty taste of Pete's lips. When he pulled back, "You could have used our bathroom Pete, you should've joined me."
Pete shrugged, "You closed the door, I thought you might want a little space. I hear you moving the boxes this morning." Tom pressed his forehead against Pete's, "I had the door closed so you could sleep. I know you stayed up working after I crashed last night."
A light shirt of the shoulders was all Pete offered, instead ready to focus on today. "So, pancakes or french toast?" Tom leaned in for another kiss, caging Pete against the counter.
As Tom tightened his arms around Pete's slim waist, Pete's right slid up Tom's back and into his hair. Pete was used to the mixed feeling of silky soft hair held tightly together by the gel Ice used. He thought it was a perfect reflection of the man himself. On this day, he was met with only silky softness, nothing holding it rigidly in place. Pete smiled into the kiss and pulled his hand higher into the fluffy soft hair. As he lightly scratched his nails against Tom's scalp, he felt him relax a little more. Pete's smile gre wider and prompted Tom to pull away, the question in his eyes, his eyes still on Pete's lips.
Pete grinned and carded his hand through Tom's hair, "I wonder if I can keep you as relaxed as your hair today." Pete mused as he lightly pressed a kiss to Tom's neck, "That would be so nice. Just a relaxed day here, at our home."
Tom's knees threatened to buckle. He was feeling relaxed and also too far away from Pete. But hearing Pete call this house, their house, home? That melted any trace of Iceman for the day. Pete hadn't called anywhere home in so long. "Home?" He was desperate to hear it again.
Mav's green eyes twinkled, his smile crinkling the corners, "Yeah, home. With you. Our home." As they soaked in the moment, the mood was broken by the loud grumble from Tom's stomach. "Right, breakfast. Pancakes or french toast?" Mav asked again.
Tom held Pete against his chest as they made pancakes together. Mav plated them on a single plate, nodding for Ice to get the coffee. In the dining room, Pete waited for Tom to settle before plopping himself in Tom's lap. Instantly his hand returned to the soft, unstyled hair, knocking into a slightly feathered style. Tom fed Pete bites of pancake, taking his own bites between.
After breakfast, and at Tom's suggestion, they left the dishes in the sink and piled on the couch to watch some baseball. Tom was leaned back against Pete. Pete offered his own color commentary on the game, his hand gently playing with Tom's hair until he'd lulled the blonde to sleep. Mav smiled at his sleeping boyfriend, "Home. Home is good."
*slider balancing the bottle of whiskey he dared mav to down in one go*: let him continue goosey
mav, loudly clearing his throat and shaking out a VERY long sheet of paper: my dearest goose
goose, glancing up: yes?
mav, assuming a strong stance like he’s about to serenade him: my dearest nicky, words cannot express my adoration for you, nor my dedication to your side. nay, but I shall attempt anyways. your hair is silky like a really nice pillow, your eyes as deep as a river. your nose was drawn by the gods, and your mouth was painted with a rose.
goose, turning to mav’s literal boyfriend, eyes wide: you aren’t going to stop him???
ice, mav’s aforementioned literal boyfriend, turning the page in his book: if I stop him now, he’ll just start over
mav, getting louder: YOUR HANDS-
*dinner on base*
pete: tom i feel nauseous
tom: hm... baby have you eaten at all today?
pete: uhm
pete: ...
pete: do you count?
tom, exasperated: NO I DO NOT-
*ron somewhere in the distance banging his head into the wall*
off to rock am ring with my friends so the regular top gay posts will continue on tuesday:-D see ya!!!♡
tony scott: okay, you know the drill.
val kilmer: yeah.
tony scott: iceman stares at maverick relentlessly during the first meeting with all the pilots and their RIOs; he dislikes him immediately.
val kilmer: sure.
tony scott: he hates how cocky and arrogant maverick is, how full of himself he seems to be. the stare is full of digust. got it?
val kilmer: loud and clear.
val kilmer: iceman stares at maverick. he's in love-
tony scott: NO-
aw i love this so much, thank you for expanding it, i adore your writing♡♡♡ nonsexual intimacy rocks!
heya, if you don't mind i would love it if you could expand the headcannon of tom giving forehead, hand, and nose kisses & pete giving cheek, shoulder, and chest kisses - that was such a cute thought♡ (i feel like pete would blush like crazy, wouldn't he? 😆)
also i love your page sm!:-D one of my favs on tumblr
thank you so much!
kisses:
the nose kisses started in the cold. They had been visiting one of tom's siblings in Idaho for shore leave. Pete was not used to the cold, and hated how he needed so many layers while tom barely needed a jacket. Tom had just laughed and asked if he wanted something warm to sip on. Pete complained that his nose was so cold it would fall off. So Tom gave it a kiss. Multiple, to warm it up a bit. To this day, Pete swears it was the cold that made him flush.
pete gives cheek kisses for the most simple reasons. If tom makes him coffee in the morning, if he holds the door open, if he brings cookies home. They're just his way of saying thank you. He gives them to carole and bradley, too. tom loves it.
Tom's forehead kisses are rarer. They're reserved for sickness comfort. when he draws Pete in for a hug after a nightmare, when bradley scrapes his knees. Pete cherishes them, and he knows they're comforting and loving.
Chest kisses are reverent. Pete kisses the scars he finds, left from a crash, an accident, or a fight. He admires his lover's beauty and how he takes care of himself. Sometimes Tom walks around shirtless just so he can get this special kind of affection.
Hand kisses sprouted from a joke. they had gone to the cinema with carole to see a new romance/action film. there was a dramatic ballroom scene where the main loverboy kissed a lady's hand dramatically. after the film, as they were walking back to the car, tom recreated the scene. Pete was so flushed, tom was worried he was angry. but when pete started giggling, he learned that pete enjoyed displays of affection. the hand kisses weren't often as dramatic as the film, just when they were holding hands or when tom was feeling snuggly, but pete loves them just the same.
shoulder kisses began when tom dislocated his shoulder during a particularly rough crash. He'd just press a peck to the shoulder whenever he could, as if it would help it heal faster. Now he does it out of habit. Pete's also a little (a lot) shorter than Tom, and Pete has perfect to shoulders almost all the time. So he kisses the shoulder.
——
in case you didn't notice, i really like nonsexual intimacy. i don't mind sexual intimacy and stuff, but i'm ace, so i don't really feel the same things, yknow?
anyway i hope you enjoyed reading! as always, if you have any headcanons to share/expand on, send me an ask or dm me!
* deep into a pitch black night at the mitchell-kazansky household *
pete: tom?
tom, half asleep: hm? what
pete: would you still love me if i was a-
tom: pete. maverick. darling, love of my life, my dear husband, it is 3 am. YOU FINISH THAT GODDAMN SENTENCE AND YOU'RE SLEEPING OUTSIDE-
Slider sat in the chair, the steady beeping of the heart monitor his only company. He looked over his best friend, still a commanding presence despite his current frailty. He rolled his neck on a sigh as he glanced at the clock.
He hoped to have two more hours before the whirlwind arrived. A glance at his phone revealed messages from Wood and Sarah. Wood is on his way to get the hurricane, Sarah was on her way back to the hospital.
Ron knew he needed to be strong today, they had all been blindsided by the speed of events. Tom was diagnosed three weeks ago and Mav was due back next week. Surgery was scheduled for the week after that, but when Tom collapsed in his office the day before, the timetable was thrown out the window.
Surgery had gone well, the pathology was not back, but the knew Tom would have some amount of follow up treatments. Sarah walked into the room, two large cups of coffee in his hand. As she passed him a cup, she trailed her hand over his shoulder, squeezing the right muscle. "Did you sleep at all?"
Ron lied through his exhausted smile, "Some. I'll be ok. He should be here soon." Sarah knew Ron was lying but they didn't say more as Tom groggily opened his eyes. "Tom, you can't talk, don't try." Sarah's voice was kind, but firm. Tom pushed himself to open his eyes wider. He looked around the room, disappointment apparent on his face as a scanned the room. Ron stepped forward, "Don't do that Tommy. He's on his way. You blindsided us all yesterday. Wood's on his way to get him."
Tom nodded and opened his lips. Ron shook his head fiercely, "NO TALKING!" Sarah slid the whiteboard into Tom's left hand and a pen in his right. "Surgery?" He wrote, handwriting shaky.
A voice from behind answered, "Admiral, nice to see you awake. Surgery went well. We got the margins, but we are going to make a treatment plan. It's too soon to know about your voice yet. Don't try to use it if you ever want it back." Tom nodded in understanding, appreciating the directness of his surgeon. As soon as the doctor cleared the door, the sounds of running boots echoed through hall.
Sarah and Ron stepped away from the bed, clearing the space for the runner. The boots skidded to a halt outside the door before making their way into the room. Pete looked exhausted, he's been on the air when the call came in and on transports for 20 hours since then. Tom's eyes slipped closed as he waited for Pete to say something. Pete collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face. The surgery must have gone wrong, Tom wasn't awake. Pete wasn't ready to talk to the doctors yet and face the future, right now he needed to lament what was lost.
Wood and Wolf stood outside the door, neither wanting to be far from their family nor wanting to interrupt. From his spot on the floor, Pete heard a soft tapping, his name in Morse code. He looked up to see Tom's green eyes looking at him in confusion. On the whiteboard, "Pete, are you hurt?"
Pete took a deep breath, exhaling on a soft chuckle. "Only my heart, dear. You scared the hell out of me." Ron and Sarah waited, glancing out the door at Wood and Wolf nodding for them to come in.
In the bed, Tom scribbled on the whiteboard and wiggled slightly closer to the side with the monitors and opened his arms wide, whiteboard out, "C'mere"
Pete sat frozen, afraid to get to close, to hurt Tom. Tom pointed at the whiteboard with his head and shook it slightly for emphasis. Pete looked over at Ron and Sarah, earning an eye roll from Tom. Ron nodded and Pete launched himself off his knees and rushed to the bed. He stopped, trying unsuccessfully to remove his boots.
Ron huffed, "Just get in the damn bed, Pete. I'll get them." Pete crawled into Tom's open arms and the two sighed in unison. Everyone else in the room shook their heads, never have any two people been more in love, they were sure of it.
Ron untied Pete's boots, struggling to get them off. Pete's feet and ankles were swollen, a sure sign of the long hours of travel. Ron leaned over the pair, "You get two hours and then I'm taking Pete to shower and eat. I'm guessing he hasn't done either of those since yesterday." Pete ignored Ron, even as Tom nodded in agreement.
Tom held Pete tightly, taking the comfort he needed from his husband. Tom wrote on the board again, "How long do I have you?"
Pete grinned, "Forever and a day." Tom smiled as he fixed the question. "How long are you in for?"
Pete shrugged, "I'm done." Murmurs of confusion on the room were interrupted by Wolf, "I thought you had a month left."
Pete shook his head, "I'm quitting." Ron's eyebrows shot up, as did Tom's, "Quitting what?"
Pete snuggled into Tom's shoulder as he casually replied, "The Navy." The room stilled, nobody moved a muscle. The only sound was Tom's monitor, the rhythm faster now. Tom kept his left arm around Pete as he wrote on the whiteboard with his right. "NO!"
Pete didn't look at the board, he knew what it said. "I'm not asking, Tom. I was halfway across the world, it took me more than a damn day to get here. What if I had been too late?"
"NO!" Pete furrowed his brow, that was a commanding voice. He lifted an eyebrow at Hollywood, standing at the foot of the bed. "I don't remember asking permission, Rick."
"Technically, Mav," he trailed off, but Pete knew where he was going. "Fuck," he muttered. Wood was up the chain of command for Mav and would have to sign off on discharge papers. Mav's contract wasn't up yet so it wasn't as straightforward as not renewing. Tom's silent laugh shook in his chest.
Wolf jumped in, "You can't quit, Mav. We will sort this all out, but you can't quit. You COULD stop pissing off admirals though."
In the corner, Sarah spit coffee at those words. She dabbed at her mouth and nose, "Sorry, but that's like telling Tom to stop being an admiral. File it under things that will never happen."
The group nodded and Pete looked over his shoulder at his sister-in-law. She was as steadfast a person as any in his life. She knew the pair of them too well. He jutted her chin at her, "I promise I'll do my part if Tom will take extended leave."
Nobody looked over, they heard the tapping of the whiteboard and knew the answer. Pete shrugged. He looked at Wood, "Do they still have an opening for a test pilot out in the desert?"
Ron huffed, "No work talk today. Today is a family day!" Just as he finished his declaration his phone rang. He screwed up his face as he looked at the number and answered, "Admiral Kerner."
The group laughed as Ron stepped out of the room. "Isn't it ironic," Wolf sang as the chuckles continued. Tom's eyelids drooped and Pete's eyes slid closed. Sarah turned and shooed the two admirals out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. She walked over to the bed, turning the lights in the room out. She fluffed Tom's pillow as Ron reentered the room.
"Help me get Mav's flight suit off his arms. If he has a nightmare, I'm afraid he'll hit Tom as he flails." Sarah knew she couldn't talk Pete into leaving yet, but he hated sleeping in long sleeves and they sometimes they triggered his nightmares. Ron and Sarah worked gently to pull Pete's arms from the flight suit without disturbing the pair.
Tom's eyes fluttered open and he locked eyes with Sarah. "Thank you," he mouthed to her. She nodded as she slipped a pillow under Pete's head and pulled a blanket up over them.
She closed the blinds sat on the couch making space for Ron. "You too, Ron. I'll take the watch." Ron snuggled into his wife, head on her lap as she pulled a blanket around his shoulders. She sipped on her coffee as Ron slept, watching over the most important men in her life. She would make sure they all got through this.
okay quick shoutout to @polar-equinoxx here, because YOU ROCK! you're literally one of my favourite top gun & general artists ever!
you're so talented, you write & draw icemav + the other daggers so beautifully and i get so very excited every time when i see that you posted☆
(the way you draw ice's hair is just... mwah<3)
definitely check them out if you haven't!
*gay screaming in the distance* NOOO THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL
yes & no // natalie wee
creds to @epiimetheux !!!
i kept coming back to this beautiful artwork and i got inspired by it so here you go...
(disclaimer: i haven't completed a fic in forever, let alone published one, so i'm very anxious about this, i apologise if it's a mess •~•♡ love you guys)
----------
tom watches from the side as his husband steps forward to his coffin. pete's head is bowed, but he can see the trembling of his lips and the coiled muscles in his jaw.
oh my love.
what i'd give to embrace you one more time.
he knew he couldn't reach his husband anymore. his time had passed.
that didn't keep tom from standing next to pete's side. keeping watch. protecting his wingman, as they'd promised to each other years ago on that fateful day.
when repressed feelings and pretentious rivalry finally made way for the unconditional love thay had never wavered once.
partnership that had lasted 33 years.
tom watched as pete took the wings off his uniform, laying them onto the smooth oak.
the gun salutes were no more than background noise, tom's sole focus lying on the man in front of him.
the moment he saw pete punching the wings into the coffin he felt an incredible warmth spread through his chest.
such a feeling had been limited to very few moments in his life.
in the cockpit of his plane, soaring above the clouds with ron at his back and pete right by his side.
the return from the layton mission.
aching and sweaty and all kinds of shaken up but alive, thriving on adrenaline and pent up energy.
they had only seen each other then.
not iceman and maverick, but tom and pete, right there on the deck, what ron had later jokingly called their "confession".
their wedding. finally being allowed to slip a ring onto pete's finger while surrounded by all their loved ones. to call him his husband for everyone to see and hear without having to fear anymore. forever and always - the ending of both of their vows.
when their son had come back to them.
pete, bradley and himself crying with relief in their kitchen as they embraced for the first time in years. pete almost losing it as bradley started called him 'dad' again, and tom almost following suit when 'pops' returned back to daily use.
in that hospital bed, when he'd kissed his husband for the last time. he had wiped the tears on pete's cheeks with trembling hands, mapping that gorgeous face he knew better than the back of his own hand.
hushed i love you's in the quiet of the room, both signed and said out loud as they held each other.
the last words he felt pressed against his forehead being 'forever and always', before he slipped away into neverland.
tom looked over his shoulder just as pete stepped back from the coffin.
the wings on his back were strikingly white. glossy and strong feathers fluttered softly in the wind, and tom couldn't help the smile that spread on his face.
i will protect you, my heart.
my wingman.
my everything.
carefully he guided his wings around pete's sides. shielding him for just a moment. providing the endless support he couldn't give in person anymore.
pete looked up towards the sky, just like the rest of the crowd, watching as the missing man formation flew by.
everyone watched the sky, but tom couldn't tear his eyes away from his husband. how the dusking sun reflected in those tender green eyes. the curve of his nose, and the sweet lips he'd kissed so very often, now being worried at between pearly teeth.
i love you, forever and always.
as if he heard him, pete echoed his words.
"forever and always, sweetheart."
Ice peeked around the door to see Mischi bouncing up and down in her Pack n Play, clutching her teddy to her chest. Sadie sat on the bed, searching through her phone, and made a satisfied noise when she found what she was looking for. She angled her phone towards Mischi, who beamed and said, “The dreamy song!” “That’s right! Remember who sings this, Mischi?” “Unca Tom!” The burning feeling in Ice’s throat inched up into his nose and behind his eyes, intensifying when Sadie pressed play on the video. There was some static, and then there was the sound of his own voice, only the slightest rasp to it from overuse. “Which number is this, Chip?” “Seven-ayyyyy!” Mischi cheered, in unison with Sarah on the other side of the camera. “Okay, y’know what I mean, don’t get excited, man,” the Ice of 2014 said, doing his best Davy Jones impression. 2014!Sarah laughed. The Ice of 2019 fought to keep his breathing steady. “It’s ‘cause I’m short, I know.” Ice heard himself strum a few familiar chords, and then: “Oh, I could hide ‘neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings; the six o’clock alarm would never ring…” Midway through the next verse, Ice felt a hand at the small of his back. Somehow, he managed not to flinch and turned around slowly, meeting Maverick’s eyes. He wanted to explain, to say that he’d recorded hundreds of videos in the aftermath of his diagnosis—songs, stories, messages to friends and family—in case of the worst, but hadn’t touched them once since finding out he was cancer-free, not wanting to somehow jinx his luck. Not wanting the reminder of what he’d lost. But Maverick didn’t say a word. All he did was offer his hand, and Ice’s throat closed completely when he took it; let Maverick wrap his arms around him. And from the guest room, the sound of Ice’s voice rang clear and true: “Cheer up, sleepy Jean; oh, what can it mean to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?”
a scene from the first chapter of my icemav fic bring back that lovin' feelin', drawn by the incredible @patbbangg ❤️❤️❤️
anyone wanna hyperanalyse this with me? because i could go on for ages on how absolutely heartbreaking this scene is every single time
in conclusion: yep, i am still so very much not over this and basically every other scene in tgm
there has never been a meme more true than this one
A brief summary of what happened as soon as Iceman became an Admiral.
rewatching top gun/top gun maverick every time there's a slight inconvenience in my life😚
mental health is down the drain but heyyyy gay pilots, the '86 girliepops & dagger babes<<3
...
(do i skip goose's 💀 & ice's funeral sometimes because no they're all living happily together as a family?🥰 yes)
[slider is filming]
*to the camera*
iceman: okay, ready? today i'll show you how to care of a sad person
*he walks over to the couch where mav is curled up, & begins laying out a blanket*
iceman: you get your blanket, and pick up your ball of depression...
*picks up mav*
iceman: lay them on the blanket and...
*mav yelps when ice starts to roll him up*
iceman: you get your own sushi roll!
iceman: now you place them somewhere comfortable and get your supplies...
*dumps mav back onto the couch & returns with snacks and drinks*
iceman: you hug your roll close and watch a movie that the roll enjoys
*starts mean girls, meanwhile slider is one laugh away from passing out*
iceman: now this part is important! you feed and hydrate the roll, because tears leave the roll dehydrated.
*mav blushing heavily, hiding in ice's side while he gets his share of chips*
iceman, smiling at the camera: there we go, a happy roll!
[ slider can't help the sappy grin on his face, their little pilot buddy all tiny & wide eyes peeking over the blanket is just adorable ]
---------------------------------------------------
inspired by the happy sushi roll meme i just found again:-D
~ '86 class at slider's house🥰
maverick: *sighs* this couch is so hard... -wolf, you shut your goddamn mouth- sli, buddy, got any pillows?
slider: just a second
*picks iceman up by the waist, relishing in the high-pitched yelp his best friend won't ever admit to*
slider: here you go!
*chucks ice on top of mav*
-
maverick: babe i love you but you're really heavy
iceman: did you just call me fat?
maverick: nO-
*hollywood and wolfman cackling in the corner, mother goose has his face in his hands, sundown couldn't take it anymore & left half an hour ago*
✨cyclone babysits for the first time✨
iceman: alright, there we go... *sets maverick down next to him* i'll pick him back up at seven, *takes out his checklist and hands it over* make sure he gets food and water every other hour, keep the jets away unless i permitted it...
cyclone: but sir-
iceman: let me finish-... so keep the jets in the hangar and, hm, maybe lock it... he can do a hop or two unless you want him to get more cranky than usual, shove him into his office twice a day and he'll get the paperwork done... shut the door though, or he will escape
cyclone, under his breath: whAt
iceman, pecking mav on the lips and ruffling his hair: i gotta go honey, love you! *death glaring at cyclone* one scratch on him and you're done.
cyclone, sweating profusely and watching the admiral saunter out the door: y-yes sir?
meanwhile maverick has already disappeared to the hangar, 11 little duckling daggers right on his tail
no noooo NOOOO MY POOR LITTLE HEART
this is so so beautiful! very much pain but so well done :'-)❤
icemav: we keep this love in a photograph
pain
okay this so beautifully written but nO bc i'm sobbing??!! this is gorgeous & SO painful??!! HELP
"I love you"
Iceman smiled, his beautiful pale eyes were full of honesty and adoration. He couldn't be lying. He never did.
Uncertain, Maverick reached out to touch his cheek. He needed to feel, needed to ground himself before it became too overwhelming.
Ice gently took his hand and pressed it to his lips.
"I love you Pete" he whispered into his palm while looking into his eyes "Always did and always will" He then added.
Mav nodded feeling his eyes well up with tears. This couldn't be happening and he knew it. Either way he wanted to hear it. He wanted it to be true.
"Kiss me" the smaller man said. His voice raspy from all the raw emotion he felt for the man before him. "Please" he begged.
Blond man leaned closer with the confidence of an admiral. He was so close Maverick thought he could feel his breath on his face. He wanted to feel it. He needed to feel it.
Iceman kissed him. It ended too soon.
Maverick woke up with tears running down his cheeks. He turned his head to look at the empty half of his bed. Their bed.
Ice was gone.
And yet,
He still could feel the ghost of the kiss. The only thing left of the dream he had.
"I miss you" he whispered into the dark empty room.
He closed his eyes and for a moment he thought he could hear a reply.
"We'll meet again"
okay top gun but it's halloween party time🎃
'86 group!
the costumes:
mav : vampire (i am fully going with "interview with the vampire" on this one) the fangs stay on the WHOLE party even though he is struggling with the snacks
ice : a very disgruntled frankenstein (but he slays it 100%). the mood gets slightly better as he watches mav curse over the green face paint aaaaall over his hands after having painted him. a smol vampire stumbling around their living room while simultaneously having a slight lisp because of the fake fangs is a funny sight indeed.
goose + carole : all the couple costumes, oh my god. carole has doooozens of spares.
princess peach & mario? check, definitely goose's favorite. baby brad tumbling about as yoshi♡_♡
johnny & baby? goose absolutely practices the lift with mav, who ends up with quite a few bruises. he gets a lot of beers & a drive home, but, if he's honest, he'll do anything for his best friends anyway.
that halloween ends with a very happy carole. ideas for bradley?
gomez and morticia addams? double check. the white face paint required a triple wash but they SLAYED that. bradley as pugsley is the vibe<<3 carole has a secret dealer for the best halloween wigs.
slider : this man is not at ALL for halloween. nope. not happening. ice manages to convince him with the promise of good food and a lotta booze. surprisingly, he even comes in costume! as a secret nerd (which i see him as) we are gonna get batman.
...
or he-man?
that would be for the kids-free party°○°
mav almost faints when he walks in with that and ice laughs so hard he has tears streaming down his face. the rest of the class is just impressed honestly, it's not bad! not to mention that he doesn't need the muscle suit...
wolfman & hollywood: PARTNER OUTFITS!
mean girls? that was a bet they lost to slider... them legs were fiiiine in those skirts.
buzz and woody!<3 they argue for hours on who's who & end up with wolf as buzz and hollywood as woody👀
the twins from the shining, they chose that themselves and NO ONE knows why.
ghostbusters! best partner outfit of that year, they all had to admit it.
listen i did not think about the timelines when which movie came out😆 this is chaos.
enjoy<3
part 2?
ice having to listen to yet another admiral yelling about some shit mav did:
30 ways to... discipline your husband (but not really we all know that......👀)
this is the sweetest thing i've ever read oh my god♡_♡ i love
[Mavdad and Jake]
Looks like a winter bear, You sleep so happily
Jake didn’t mean to fall asleep. It’s just that the sofa was a massive, soft thing that sinks like a dream the moment you sit down, let alone when you snuggle deep into the cushions and especially when you’re halfway dead from a long ass day trip.
He can feel the coolness of the supple leather under the skin of his exposed arm as he lies on his side, feel the way it gives when he pulls his knees up closer to his belly and the tiny little squeak of skin on leather as he moves his right arm under his warm firm throw pillow.
Jake settles with a small inaudible sigh, finally happy with his new position.
“Well he’s sure is comfy.”
Jake stills. His brain is still foggy from sleep, but he’s waking up fast. His fingers, the ones gripping his throw pillow, flex reflexively around the - what the fuck the pillow flexed back?
“He’s tired, Bradley.” There’s the sound of a chuckle right above him and a hand in his hair - well. Shit. He’s been sleeping with his head in Mav’s lap. There’s a pause and the sound of someone unlocking their phone and the telltale sound of a camera app.
“I’m sending this to the group - it’s just too cute.” The humor is evident in Rooster’s voice and Jake scowls. “Holy shit Mav look - his face’s all scrunched up– fuck that’s adorable.”
Mav’s hand in Jake’s hair begins to brush through the fluffy blond mess. He remembers now that he came straight to Mav and Ice’s house from Lemoore on his first day of shoreleave, an unholy long drive that he would only ever put himself through for a very very select few people in his life. It used to be just the Machado family, but now Jake is proud (and a little bewildered) to say that he’s running out of fingers when he counts the members of “Jake Gives A Shit About You” club.
Wild how half a year ago his only definition of home is a room in the barracks or a bunk on his assigned carrier. Jake was just used to living out of his bags when every place he lands on is only temporary - too used to leaving before he can put down roots because he learned early on in life that putting down roots means risking having your roots yanked out of the ground and losing a few parts of yourself that you can’t get back.
But now his duffle bag is unpacked and his clothes (as little as they are given the short shoreleave) are neatly folded and put away in a nice mahogany wardrobe that Ice dragged out of storage for him, in a room with a bed covered in Kazansky family heirloom quilt, two doors down from the master bedroom.
His sneakers are in the cabinet in the foyer, his keys - the car and to this house- is in a little bowl on the foyer’s side table, his jacket hanging beside Mav’s letterman with a massive emblem of a winged dagger on its back (a gag gift from their special detachment - the emblem something that Fan drunkenly sketched out on a napkin that he pinched from Penny’s bar, declaring magnanimously that its now “Our coat of arms, chiquitas and chiquitos”).
Mav’s fingers shift lazily through Jake’s hair and tugs a little at the end before starting back from the roots. His thigh under Jake’s cheek is perfectly still even as his stomach quivers in his silent laughter at something that Rooster said. The savory scent of dinner earlier still wafts in the den, intermingling oddly with the scent of the reed diffuser on the small circular table by the window.
Jake can hear the sounds of the dishwasher closing and cutleries being put away, Ice’s and aunt Sarah’s voice a low murmur with the occasional peal of laughter from the Admiral’s sister. From outside, Jake can just hear the metallic sounds the basketball hoop makes as someone scores, excited yells from the kids just barely muffled by the house.
“RooRoo, I wanna play,” Little Jack’s voice carries over to their little hide-away, one of Rooster’s many sort-of cousins no doubt making grabby hands at his phone, judging by Rooster’s quiet laughter.
“No, Jack, hold on, I'm texting my friends– here, look you wanna say hi to Bobby?”
The steady sound of his phone’s notification from the coffee table tells Jake that there’s a lot of replies from their group chat - most likely in response to whatever picture of Jake napping in Mav’s lap that Rooster shared in the group. Jake doesn’t even feel the slightest bit annoyed by that. He’s in a house with two parents, little cousins, an aunt, and whatever Rooster is - nothing short of wild horses dragging him out of this house can upset him.
Rooster’s quiet laughter builds up to a cackle as Mav’s hand moves from his head to tuck his shoulders further into the couch, illogically worried that Jake was gonna roll off the furniture. Warmth spreads through Jake’s chest at that.
“Jack,” the cackle grows louder accompanied by the sounds of Jack’s high pitched laughter, “No no no don’t text that– ”
“Jackie, why don’t you and Bradley take this outside?” Mav hums and Jake feels the older man shift to bring him closer, his head snug in the cradle of Mav’s hips with his forearm across Jake’s chest. “I think the rest of the kids are playing a game or two on the court - you wanna show Bradley what Rueben taught you? Hey, Bradley, can you pass me the– yeah.”
“Pay was here?” Jake hears the surprise in Bradley’s tone. He hears the sound of soft fabric being moved off slippery leather and Mav’s whispered thanks as he feels softness and warmth drape over his legs to his waist. “When was that?”
“About a month ago, I think?” Mav’s voice is contemplative and his hand falls back on Jake’s shoulder, squeezing a little. “Just for dinner, he wasn’t around for long.” The hand rubs up and down his arm, massaging his sore muscles. “God, the drive must’ve really worn him out - poor kid.”
“RooRoo.” Jake hides his smile in Mav’s jeans. “Let’s goooooo.”
“Alright, alright - calm down, short stack.”
Jake hears the sounds of feet scrambling on carpet, the frantic footfall of little feet running out of the den and a calmer set following. His phone continues to ping with notifications on the coffee table, the only sound in the comfortable silence of the den. Jake opens his eyes slowly, pupils adjusting to the slightly dim golden light of the room- signs that the golden hour is coming to its tail-end . Jake takes a moment to just breathe, taking in lungfuls of the reed diffusers, the fabric softener Mav uses, faint scent of his own cologne, the smell of home.
He rolls his shoulder, dislodging Mav’s hand to fall to the dip of his waist as he shifts his body to lay flat on the sofa.
“Knew you were awake.” Mav jostles his thigh and Jake’s head shakes, drawing a short bark of laughter. “Don’t feel like socializing?”
“Nah,” Jake hums. He looks up at Mav and smiles. “Wanna spend time with my old man.”
Mav smiles back at him, green eyes as soft as the first time they really looked at Jake in that emergency room months ago. Pulling up the throw blanket, Jake turns to lie on his side, his face buried in Mav’s stomach and Mav’s hand caressing the back of his head.
He falls asleep.
no because them🥺♡
Top Gun: Maverick (2022)
theyre gay your honour
i’m actually starting to think this is a problem, i should NOT be thinking about two gay pilots 24/7