#eventual icemav

[gaydaroreilly]

Fleshing out left Mav and my brain went WHAT IF DUKE FLEW IN KOREA TOO AND ENDED UP AT MASH 4077? He got injured in a dog fight, ended up getting fixed up by Hawkeye and became besties with the crew (Cus just imagine Mav with uncles Hawkeye and Trapper and Radar??? and they talk about all the shit that’s the American military. He comes home disenchanted and yet he’s stuck because he’s required to serve in Vietnam.

He makes it home by the skin of his teeth, but he’s fucking angry and done and raises anti-war activist Pete, and brings him to visit his weird commie lefty doctor buddies out East. They spend a lot of time in Maine with Hawk and Trap, especially after Pete’s mom dies of cancer when he’s 10. Pete’s especially close with his ‘cousin’ Carol MacIntyre (Trapper’s daughter who he raises with his ACTUALLY JUST PROFESSIONAL yesverygay partner Hawkeye).

Pete and Duke do their father-son bonding over planes and cars and bikes. Duke does flying lessons and hits up airshows and buys a mechanic shop that he operates with Pete’s help. They do good work for fair prices and they are a community pillar in their small town. Pete starts flying as soon as he can and is an infamously brave sport pilot and folks start calling him Maverick. He goes to college to get a degree in mechanical engineering and there he meets NROTC student Nick Bradshaw. . .

Pete is very cautious cus the navy owns Nick a little, but they become best friends and Nick is pretty bummed he thought his only option for school was through the “service”. With Pete taking him up in planes Nick decides to go for aviation. Ends up becoming a RIO called Goose and also a husband to Carol and dad to Bradley (all in very quick succession). Goose plans to quit the navy as soon as his contract is up (Hawkeye makes him swear on life before the shotgun wedding).

Idk should I write this wild crossover lol?

[iceman-maverick]

fic: top gun but it's the american revolution and they're on horses, not planes

fire and fleet and candlelight

“A favor,” Stinger smiles, “from the General,”

“Which General?” Mitchell says, head snapping to Nick.

Figures. Mitchell can lead a company of men through the jaws of hell and back without a single casualty but it's Nick, who couldn’t tell his musket’s barrel from its stock, whose name carries any weight.

[kazanskyy]

iceman + his concern for maverick post-hop 31

[itskaitsart]

please,, they’ve rotted my brain

[1001aus]

@wearerandomlyyours IceMav time travel au has lived in my mind for a while now. Also I have Chronic Worldbuilding Syndrome and started having thoughts about Ice and Mav telling the brass that they met at Top Gun leading to the eventual creation of the program and policies put into place that will ensure it's the same as they described (i.e. teaching positions reserved for trophy winners, being located at Miramar).

Anyway.

I Wrote A Thing.

(Disclaimer: as this au does not belong to me, I make no promises that this will be compliant with anything that may get written by randomlyyours (that is their name on ao3. go check them out) in the future. I cannot promise that this is an au they are working on at all.)

---------‐

Mike has a suspicion about Duke's kid before he ever earns his callsign.

It starts as a funny thought: wouldn't it be a laugh if Duke was named after his own son. Duke being named after his son's cover identity which was probably named after him—Mike doesn't have the clearance to know more than what he needs to so he can identify Blizzard and Wild Thing when they come to Top Gun, not even what year to expect them although he's sure it's in the files somewhere—the exact order of events makes for a chicken-or-the-egg question for when he has nothing better to do than navel gazing.

Then he hears that Pete Mitchell is rejected from the academy because of who his father was. That burns him as much for the possibility he hadn't realized he felt so strongly about as much as it does because he knows the things people say about his wingman are lies.

For a while he assumes he was wrong; that's the end of it and doesn't think about that stray idea again.

Their first class roster for the class of '86 seems to confirm that. Mike wouldn't be cleared to know about Blizzard and Wild Thing if someone high up didn't expect him to be teaching them and Iceman looks like a perfect candidate. Blizzard and Wild Thing meet for the first time at Top Gun, that's why he's read in. Hell, it's why the program exists in the first place.

None of the other pilots have callsigns that line up, but it could be Cougar if he squints. Then Cougar turns in his wings less than a week before they start and Stinger sends the only other pilot on the Enterprise worth sending.

Pete Mitchell. Maverick.

That funny thought is worth something after all.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"Mike?"

He pulls the files out of the stack and offers them to Rick. It doesn't take more than a minute for Rick to understand what he's looking at.

"So it's finally happening, huh? They look just like the pictures."

"Explains why Wild Thing flew like he had a chip on his shoulder."

"That it does." Rick snorts out a laugh. "Either the pair of them will be our best students or our worst."

Yeah, Mike's already dreading that. He still isn't sure if he should tell the kid Duke flew on his wing or if that would just make more problems. Gonna have to play that one by ear.

Mitchell's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas and Kazansky's shooting for stars. They're the only real competition the two of them have got in this class and they're sharp enough to know it. There isn't much information available on Blizzard and Wild Thing before their grand entrance to the war, but Mike's willing to bet the first impressions don't go smoothly.

"The worst. Ten bucks says."

"Pretty confident there. Sure, I'll take that bet."

(Rick gives him his winnings at the end of the first day.)

[adiduck]

Okay so! It's kind of been a bad day, and I was looking for something fun I could do, and it occurred to me I had this snippet from a fic that... I mean, this is what a friend referred to as a very tumblr idea 🤣And I didn't post a WIP Wednesday! So. Here it is, an icemav snippet from a fic I may or may not continue if I ever figure out, like, what it's about other than this gimmick:

[compacflt]

does thomas kazansky believe hes an honarable man? what does honor mean to him?

i love this question because this is my version of tom kazansky’s whole thing, and i think my version of tom kazansky is a man very conflicted about what honor means—the purpose of everything he does, the way he acts, what he acknowledges and refuses to acknowledge, is to achieve some higher level of honor… one more medal, one more rank, one more star. but of course in his personal life (womanizing, his relationship with mav, all the secret-keeping), he is not an honorable man, no.

and the funny thing is, i don’t think he could answer this question—the fatal flaw of my fanfic, as I’ve written about (and made diagrams etc) here, is that… for plot reasons, no one can really ask him that question! It’s actually very visible in the slider one-shot: every time slider or someone else gets close to asking, “Look, can you just be honest with me about this for a sec,” they literally get interrupted in the middle of their sentence, because for plot reasons Ice can’t actually be pressured to answer a question like that until maverick dies! So I think, if you asked him what honor is, he would say “I’d like to think I’m an honorable man. I have four stars that prove it.” But if you pressured him about some of his actions… what about pulling Bradley’s papers, or your secret illegal relationship… he wouldn’t know what to say. Honor, for him, is whatever the NAVY tells him it is. The navy says honor = four stars, he has four stars to prove how much honor he has earned. Anything in his personal life comes secondary to the honor he’s starving for in the navy. And, he feels like he has no control over his personal life, because he just lets that happen to him.

So—in summary, I’ve been writing him as someone who values professional honor over personal honor, and then ends up paying for that in the end.

But here’s also the thing… I’ve been trying to write him as someone who still TRIES. He’s been given this life…all these secrets… some of it is his fault, yes, but some of it also isn’t. It’s just life. He’s trying to do the best he can within its (admittedly artificial) constraints.

He’s just trying his best. hopefully ive left it up to you to decide if he succeeds.

[thatsrightice]

penguins are flightless birds and so am i

word count: 4.8k

main themes: iceman angst, surprise homecoming, hurt/comfort, big fluff, flyboys being flyboys, found family, some military lingo

pain: yes

summary:

The words on the paper he pulled from his pocket weighed heavy on his shoulders, hurt more than all of the physical and mental pain from the last two weeks combined. He was officially grounded, placed on convalescent leave and still not sure he'll be able to take the temporary assignment. He despises the feeling of being stuck on the ground for an eternity with his wings clipped while everyone around him danced in the sky, teasing him like the flightless bird he is.“-f**king penguin,” he mumbled to himself as he exhaled, eyes shut because he was just so tired.

or

Iceman returns home from deployment early, but not on his own terms.

READ ON AO3 NOW

[dorsey-m]

Ice: What the hell are you doing telling people we're a gay couple???

Mav: Oh. Heard that through the grapevine, did you?

[andmakeithome]

happy wip wednesday!! here’s a snippet of the last? second to last? chapter for paper planes au! this will most likely be rewritten as this was mostly word vomit from nano 2022, but here this is anyway! also I’ve decided goose is going to live, so this is going to have to change anyway lol. but I still enjoy this, so voila~

context: mav writes his soulmate (ice) a letter after goose dies; ice then realizes mav is his soulmate and rushes to mav’s base housing to attempt to comfort :’)

"Can I come in?" he asks, voice soft and low. "I just want to talk."

"At…three in the morning?" Mav frowns, glancing behind him as Slider pulls out of the driveway, headlights splashing across the porch. Mav looks Ice over suspiciously as Slider drives away, eyes catching on the crumpled plane in Ice's hand. He stills. His frown deepens as he blinks sluggishly, before his face goes abruptly white. He lifts his gaze, eyes flitting rapidly across Ice's features, eyes wide, fingers tightening on the door frame.

"Can I come in?" Ice asks again, fingers twitching at his side, wishing he had his pen to fiddle with in this awkward in-between. Mav steps aside, silent, and Ice steps into the house.

It's the same as any other base housing, Ice notes, but with little hints of life beyond: Mav's leather jacket strewn across the couch alongside a colorful knitted blanket. Mav's keys resting on the kitchen table. A child's drawings decorate the fridge, strewn up with plane magnets next to a letter.

A letter with Ice's handwriting.

His hand tightens around the paper plane in his hand.

"Is it…is it really…" Mav stutters behind him. Ice turns back to him and Mav shifts, unsure, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He seems to steel himself before he speaks again.

"Why are you here, Ice?"

"I…got your letter," he says, lifting it into view.

"How do you know it's mine?" Mav challenges. But even behind the brave face, Ice can hear the desperation there, and knows this— these…feelings welling inside him aren't just one-sided. He still takes a moment to mull over his words.

"I was too caught up in being at Top Gun to notice sooner, P," he says slowly, and the use of his nickname makes Mav pause. Ice pushes on, confidence building. "But you talk just like you write. Open and confident, bold and…and unabashed in whatever you say. There isn't anyone else like you," he says, flushing. And it's true, Ice can admit. There isn't anyone like Maverick. That's why he fell so hard, and just over their letters, at that.

"Yeah," Mav scoffs wetly, and immediately Ice knows he misstepped somewhere, "there isn't anyone else who would get their best— their RIO killed because they were too caught up in the competition."

[mcu-and-buckybarnes-things]

Me, who likes to put my OTP through extra drama & angst before a happy ending: How about Ice approached Maverick at first only because he had been secretly in love with Goose and he saw a chance when they met again at Top Gun and……

All the other Icemav shippers:

[romanticinpanic]

Summaries of said fics

screaming a choir of mute as they brace for the ground

Gwen's thought process as she falls

what to expect when your crush's ex-girlfriend is expecting

Where Ice decides the best way to deal with his unrequited feelings for Maverick is to raise a baby together. What could possibly go wrong?

Slayer of Watchers

AU where after Xin Rong died not to Spike but to her cruciamentum, causing him to learn all about the Council and how it treats slayers. Motivated by remnants of his victorian gentleman’s honor, cryptic words from Drusilla and the moralistic prattling of a recently souled Angel, he sets out to combat the Council and help slayers with and after their cruciamentum. Almost a century later, this leads him to Sunnydale as he hears reports of preparations for the tento di cruciamentum of one Buffy Summers.

[icezansky]

someday I will write my baseball fic…. Someday

[softkazansky]

Things...Shatter

Something goes shatter in the middle of the night. More than one 'something' and Slider's the one dealing with it all. A hurt-comfort lil scene ficlet for some Slider who deserves to love and be loved too. Part of an ongoing series. MavIce are the side characters this time. TW: brief/vague mentions of a woman being taken advantage of at night. Nothing explicit, just mentioned as a flashback event. But if it's a major trigger, no matter how vague it's been mentioned, do not read.

The shattering sound woke Slider up with a start. His immediate thought was that someone was breaking in because no way was Iceman this clumsy. Quick reflexes had him out of bed and padding down the hallway to where the light source of the kitchen came from. Sleep long gone since adrenaline took over. Quick thinking deduced that it wasn't an intruder. Intruders don't put lights on in the house. Thinking it must be Iceman after all, Slider peered into the kitchen, only to be met with another blonde-headed person that he half-forgot was staying with them.

"You okay?" he gently asked as he stepped further into the kitchen, careful where he stepped with shards of ceramic littering the floor from a shattered mug. Thankfully none of his or Iceman's favourite coffee mug; not that it mattered - in the hindsight of things.

Glassy green eyes met his. Eyes that he didn't dare admit that he cold easily get lost in. Like a forest welcoming you to explore and feel at ease with. He heard the hitch of her breath as she tried to hold back tears, "...I...I was trying to m-make...and then...I'm so sorry." Her hands had stilled mid-air from when she had accidentally dropped the mug. He noticed how violently they trembled. Stepping closer, he was very aware of how fragile she looked. Far more fragile than the broken mug that was shattered on the floor. He held a hand up behind the small of her back, remaining ten centimeters away from physically touching her, wanting to touch her with gentle comfort, but didn't dare. Not after what she'd been through. Not after how they found her either. The other hand came around to the front of her vision, slightly to the the side, open palm up as if offering for her to place her hand in his... but she never did. "I've got this. I can make you a tea... Why don't you take a seat...?"

Little did Slider realise that Iceman was hovering by the doorway, observing with protective blue eyes. Protective ice cold blue eyes. One wrong move, one wrong thing said and Iceman would have no problem dropping Slider from his plane without a parachute.

Emily, sister to the pilot they all recently lost, and nurse to the Naval Base... also their new roommate, was careful where she stepped. Slider watched with sharp eyes, each step she took, ensuring her safety and that she didn't step on any shards of ceramic. When she was safely away from the scattered pieces and sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen counter, Slider went to work in boiling the teapot and making her a fresh cup of tea.

He didn't say much to her. Quietly picked up the bigger pieces of the broken ceramic, and used a small dustpan and brush to clean up the smaller and unseen sharp pieces. Back turned to her as he reached for the top cabinet that held the many different tea's Iceman insisted on having, Slider settled for a couple of options that he learnt helped with sleep. Lavender, Chamomile, Soothing Green Tea, some herbal leafy shit that he'll have to figure out how to brew... "Which one?" He turned just in time to see her jump at the sound of his voice breaking through the silence of the room. There was a strange pang to his chest, he hadn't meant to spook her the way he did. He also wasn't used to seeing her like this either. Not that he had much interaction with her before. he was usually biting comments at Maverick or chatting to Goose. "...Um, the Honey and Lavender please..." It was the way her voice wobbled that also tugged at his heartstrings. "Okay." he said with a little more gentleness and am much quieter tone so as to not spook her. It wasn't necessary, it was just the sudden sound of his voice that cut through the silence that caused her to jump. She had every reason not to trust him, given what she went through. But she trusted Iceman completely...and in extension, she trusted Slider too. Regardless... Even Iceman hadn't heard Slider this gentle before. And it's probably want made him linger by the doorframe to listen, rather than trust that Emily was in good hands. "Do you have sugar?" She shook her head in answer, not trusting herself to speak. "Okay." he gently said again, as he took away the various boxes of tea and placed them all back. If he didn't, he wouldn't hear the end of it from Ice in the morning.

Luckily she didn’t choose the one with the leafy shit in it. He brewed her the tea and passed it over to her, remaining on the other side of the counter to give her space. He watched as she wrapped those trembling hands around the mug and murmured a wobbly little “Thank you”. His fingers tapped on the kitchen counter, debating what he should do. Should he leave her? She clearly came in here to not be disturbed. But she could’ve easily brought the cup of tea back to her bedroom - their spare room - instead, she’s still sat here. She looks like she’s about to cry… he should just leave her alone. But at the same time, he doesn’t want to. Not with her like this. He’d only lie in bed, feeling guilty. Fuck it. He turned and made himself a cup of coffee. It’s not like he’s going to sleep anyway. It didn’t take long to fix himself a cup of coffee. Coffee grounds, water, stir, done. Leaning against the other side of the kitchen counter, opposite the ‘island’, he sipped away at his coffee. Watching as she only took one or two sips at a time. “...Nightmares…?” he asked. She didn’t answer him at first, it was only a moment or two later that she finally nodded her head, as if feeling guilty that she’s the one having nightmares when these boys are literally undergoing life-threatening training and missions and she underwent…something else that was more…manageable. “They’ll stop. Eventually. We all get them. Even Ice. But don’t tell him I said that.” Oh Ice is definitely going to kill him. But it gave her the smallest of smiles, so being killed over that smile was worth it. Little did Slider know that Ice was there, eavesdropping on the whole conversation, quietly deciding to give Slider a pass on bringing the nightmare thing up. Just this once. But that smile didn’t last. It wobbled. Everything wobbled. And that glassy look in her eyes with unshed tears, finally fell. Slider stood frozen. She had been through so much. They lost a friend, a pilot… but she lost a brother. And not long after that…one of their own took advantage of her in the middle of an alleyway… on base. This shit shouldn’t be happening. Yes, they’re Navy fuckwits. They’re men. They think with their ego’s first, dick second… but not like this. It wasn’t just tears… it was grief… it was what she went through… she missed her brother…the only person who could make her feel less alone, less, well, shit, was the one person who wasn’t here. And it’s made her feel more alone than ever. Just as Ice was about to step in because he hated knowing Emily was practically crying on her own and Slider was standing there like an emotionally stunted robot, Slider finally moved. He placed his cup of coffee down and came around to her. Without thinking about any form of a PTSD response from her, he wrapped his arms around her body and drew her into his chest. Instead of her pushing away from him, she violently flinched at first but the emotions took a more violent hold on her and her whole body trembled against him. She shattered the way that mug dropped and shattered into pieces. Her sobs grew louder but more muffled as she turned her face against him and cried out her pain. Long fingers stroked through her blonde hair as he held her. He didn’t offer much in the way of words. This was Iceman’s department. Ice - despite how cold he can be - was far better with words and speeches than Slider was. However, where Slider lacked words of reassurance and comfort, he made up for with the way he held her. Protectively. Like he was shielding her from the rest of the world. No more harm was to ever come to her. This might be the first women he held in his arms that he wasn’t fucking. “I’m so sorry, Emily…” he finally murmured over her cries. “You’re safe… You’re safe now…” as he readjusted his head, he caught a glimpse of short blonde hair disappearing behind the door frame.

[eri-is-online]

I had to hop on this trend eventually and I'm also long overdue for Icemav fanart so this is the product of that

[adiduck]

WIP Game Propaganda - Ice Gets Divorced

Next up in the wip poll propaganda train we have Ice's divorce fic! No Mav in this one yet, and yes Ice ill-advisedly drinking alone on a hotel couch, so read at your own discretion.

-

“We had a good run,” she said that night, as she sat Ice down at their kitchen table and ripped the rug straight out from under him, “but you don’t need me now, Tom. And—we’ve been content, we’ve been comfortable, but I think we both deserve better than comfortable.”

She seemed like she was hinting at something at the time, eyes intent and kind. Ice didn’t know what he was supposed to be understanding. Frankly, he still doesn’t.

He takes another large mouthful of vodka, then lets his head fall back on the uncomfortable as hell hotel couch, staring up at the ceiling fan slowly rotating above him. It was so fucking quiet in here—he couldn’t wait to get the time to find a new place. Soon, he promises himself again. Once the divorce is finalized and his spare time can be used for house hunting, instead of lawyers and paperwork and questions of where his kids will go and what to do with the big guest room bed they’d bought together—

He shuts his eyes, shakes his head roughly, and then sits up enough to take another gulp. The world’s starting to go a little loose at the edges now, that weird wobbly feeling like maybe his skin’s gotten a bit too big for his insides. Good. He doesn’t think he can quite handle the harsh edges at the moment.