#tom kazansky oneshot

[witchwyfe]

here with me - tik

pairing - college! Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x female reader

précis - mav makes a bet during the soccer's teams getaway.

content/warnings - language, annoyance towards maverick, fluff

word count - 933

a/n - college soccer player ice series

“Okay, you know this is actually really stupid.” You complain, curled up in the backseat of Carole’s car. “Everyone else wants to sleep together, why can’t we?”

“You know how the guys are,” Ice huffs from the other end of the phone. “They’re turning it into a competition.”

“Yeah, and who’s idea was it?” You scoff. “Maverick’s. He’s single and an asshole, he doesn’t have any stake in the game, of course he would propose something like this.”

Something like this being, for your autumn break trip to a cabin, sleeping arrangements are all girls together, and all boys together. Despite the fact, that the trip is made up of some of the soccer team, and their girlfriends. Mav even thought it would be funny to have whoever caves first, buy everyone dinner on the last night.

You sigh loudly, ignoring Carole’s chuckle from the driver’s seat. Her and Goose finally got their shit together, and they’ve been happily dating since summer. 

“And of course you won’t crack, because you love to win.” You whine pitifully, more to yourself than your boyfriend. “I’ll see you when we get there.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your purse, leaning your head against the window, watching a flurry of orange as you pass a multitude of trees.

Not much more time passes before you’re pulling up at the cabin, clearly the last ones there, if the amount of cars shoved into the dirt driveway, is anything to go by.

Ice, Goose, and Slider are quick to come out and help with the bags in the back of Carole’s trunk.

“Hiya honey,” Goose greets, before dipping Carole in a dramatic kiss. You turn to see Ice, and pout, before falling into his arms.

“Hey baby,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss at your hairline. 

“Icey,” You whine. “Missed you.”

“Pretty girl.” He coos. “I missed you too.”

Following a week of mid-terms, you’d barely gotten to see your boyfriend. Both of you had stacked schedules with exams and papers, and Ice had a big game right before break began. You were looking forward to a long weekend with him, snuggled into his arms while you sleep, the way you hadn’t been able to. 

His arms squeeze easily around your waist, and he lifts you a bit until you can’t help but smile. You fist your hands in the material of his sweatshirt. 

“Was lookin’ forward to sleeping with you this weekend.” You tell him quietly. “I didn’t sleep well last week.”

“I know, me too.” He says, lips at your temple. “I’m sorry angel.”

“Not your fault your friends are stupid.”

He chuckles, squeezing you one more time before setting you down. He grabs your duffel bag and purse, waiting for you to shut your car door, before heading inside.

“Carole and I are sharing a room, I think,” You frown. “That’s what Marcy said in the group chat.” Marcy, Slider’s girlfriend, was also very upset about the sleeping arrangements, had coordinated which room everyone is staying in. Your boyfriend nods and continues in, before stopping at a room and gently setting your bags down.

You notice two beds, neither much bigger than a twin, but still an upgrade from the college dorm bed Ice had snuck in, to share with you countless times the previous year. 

“Look baby,” You whine. “We could totally fit in here, you always cuddle up anyway.”

“I know, sweet girl,” He soothes with a kiss to your temple. 

Carole comes in a second later, Goose rolling her suitcase while she spouts similar complaints that you had.

“Just because Mav isn’t getting any, doesn’t mean he has to ruin it for the rest of us.” She huffs, crossing her arms against her chest. Goose barely bites back his snort, throwing his head back in laughter before Carole sticks a withering glare on him. 

You nod in agreement, turning towards her. “That’s what I was just telling him, I mean why did anyone invite him anyway? He’s fucking annoying.”

“Okay,” Ice warns softly. “Not that I don’t currently share the sentiment, but Mav’s room is right down the hall and I’m sure he can hear us.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, leaning into him. “Are we allowed to sit together on the couch at least?”

You packed everything you need for your night time routine and to sleep. Your face is washed, teeth are brushed, and now you’re scrolling on your phone, trying to chill before bed. Carole had long snuck out of your room and into Goose’s—you wish your boyfriend didn’t take everything so seriously. Goose laughed in Mav’s face when he proposed the competition—so it’s too quiet and you don’t have anyone to talk to. Right in the middle of your scroll through Tik Tok, your phone buzzes with a text.

I miss u

You smile, imagining your boyfriend curled up in his bed, missing you enough to send you text. 

Come in

You respond.

Carole left. We can push the beds together :) 

He sends back:

We don’t need that much room.

Less than a minute later, your door is being pushed open and your boyfriend, clad in boxers and an old crewneck is suddenly sliding in behind you, arms circling your waist. 

“Missed you.” He mumbles into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against the skin. 

“You’re not allowed to agree to any of Mav’s dumb bets, ever again.” You grumble. “Last time you had to bleach your hair and now this.”

“I know baby,” He coos. “No more, I promise.”

© witchwyfe 2024. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[ddejavvu]

hi! can i request iceman x fem!reader where they’re on their first date and reader can’t get enough of how fine he looks and how good he smells, pls?

Dancing is the last thing you thought you'd be doing on your first date with Tom. Drinking, sure. Kissing, you could dare to dream. Sitting down at a fancy restaurant, maybe. And to his credit, you did enjoy a nice dining experience, but he'd led you into a little club afterwards. It isn't a bar, there's no reeling drunkards passed out on the dance floor. No, it's more sophisticated than that, a live band playing in the corner while couples dance together.

The music that's playing now is reminiscent of swing, and Tom is surprisingly good at the style of dance to go with it. You're taking his lead, letting him step and push and pull and twirl, all with that dazzling smile on his face.

"You're wonderful at dancing!" You marvel as he hooks a hand around your waist, pulling it flush to his own. It means you get a nose-full of his cologne, sharp and musky and something you want on your bedsheets.

"It's hard not to be when you're so wonderful to dance with," He croons, practically purring inches away from your face. His smile is almost more intoxicating than his scent, and you're lucky your knees don't give out. What your face does isn't much help, though, as it blooms into a grin so bashful that you have to duck your head to hide it from him.

"Hey," He chuckles, using his grip on your waist to maneuver you towards the side of the room, dancing coming to a halt, "That's not fair, I want to see your face."

He hooks a finger under your chin and lifts it so that his nose nearly brushes yours. You're even more sheepish now as he hums, "What is it, angel?"

"I don't know," You shrug, biting your bottom lip, "it's just- Well," You gush, "I'm having a really great time. And you're- you must be the most handsome man I've ever gone out with."

He laughs at the admission, a deep, sweet sound from his chest. You should probably feel embarrassed admitting it, but not enough to deny him the compliment, and you press on in case his grin will get any wider.

"And you smell amazing," You laugh, "letting him pull your waist closer to his, "I'm just impressed, that's all."

"Yeah? Well that's good," He muses, "'Cause you know I used this cologne to impress you. I was hoping," He bows his own head now, laughing towards his chest, "That maybe you'd put your head on my shoulder."

Your cheeks get hotter, if possible, as he continues, "Like this."

He smooths his hand up from your chin to your cheek, guiding your head to lay against his chest. It puts your nose in his collarbones and he feels your breath over his shirt. The music works with you, transitioning into a slower paced song that the dancers mirror. All of a sudden you're back on the floor, swaying in time with your head on his chest and his arms around your waist.

"So it worked?" He murmurs, carefully avoiding standing on your toes even though you're only inches apart.

"It worked," You press a quick kiss to the collar of his shirt and he feels it beneath the fabric, "I think I want to stay here forever, Tom."

[make-me-imagine]

Better Late Than Never

Plot: You and Tom have been friends for years, but you secretly fell in love with him. Thinking he will never feel the same you finally decide it's time to move on, but Tom has other plans.

Prompts: "All I've ever wanted is was for you to see me." + "I just cant see myself ever living without you."

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x Gn!Reader (Y/n insert)

Requested By: @persephonesportal

Warnings: Brief mentions of jealousy. A bit angsty.

Words: 2k

-

You tried to resist looking over at him, but no matter what, your eyes always seemed to be pulled back to the man across the bar.

His familiar bright smile was plastered on his face as two women were standing unbearably close to him and Slider. They held the straw of their drinks in their toothy grins as they eyed Tom.

You felt your chest clench as annoyance bubbled through you. Forcing yourself to look away again you swallowed, tapping your finger on the bar top.

It had been years now since you and Tom became friends, you even considered him one of your best friends. But, it wasn't long until you ended up falling for him. You knew you shouldn't, you didn't mean to, but it was something you had no control over.

You wish you could control it. That way you could make those feelings go away. Nothing was more painful than unrequited love.

Your eyes once again rose up to lock on him. You felt the familiar uncomfortable clench of your chest as you saw him look at the woman in front of him.

"Hey."

A voice broke you from your thoughts. Looking over, you saw an attractive man standing in a Navy uniform, leaning on the bar he had a big toothy grin as he smiled at you.

"Hello." You greeted, sitting up a little straighter.

"Air Force huh?" He asked as he eyed your uniform.

"How'd you guess?" You asked with a sarcastic tone.

He chuckled as he sat down on the stool beside you. "Lucky guess." He replied.

You felt a flutter in your chest, and spared a look over at Tom. You wanted him to be looking at you, but his eyes were still on the women in front of him.

Pushing the thought aside, you looked back at the man beside you. You may not be able to completely forget how you feel about Tom, but you may be able to move on from it.

As the woman in front of Tom continued to ask him about his job as she obnoxiously chewed on her straw, Tom's eyes scanned the room looking for you. He much preferred talking to you.

When his eyes stopped on you at the bar, he felt his chest tighten as he saw you laugh, leaning forward as you gently pushed the man in front of you playfully.

He had never seen the man before, but he was clearly piquing your interest.

Tom felt his heart start beating a bit heavier in his chest as he watched you. The way you smiled brightly, a smile he often thought he was the only one to see. The way you were turned to face the man fully, told Tom you were truly interested.

Looking back at the man, Tom saw the way his eyes raked over you, and he felt his stomach turn.

Why was he reacting like this? He had never felt this before. Not towards you. Then again, in the years Tom had known you he had almost never seen you go out with someone, or even seen interested, until now.

He knew what the feelings were. Anger, annoyance, jealousy, fear. But why was he feeling it now? What did it mean?

As Slider nudged his arm, he looked back over, trying to force his thoughts to focus on what Slider was saying, but he couldn't seem to get the idea of you and another man off his mind.

--- --- ---

Tom watched you with curiosity and confusion as you ran off to the showers after training the next day. Most of the time you would wait for him, and you two would walk together and talk, but today you never even set eyes on him.

A feeling in his gut told him something was wrong, that maybe he did something, but he couldn't place what that might have been. His impatience only rose as he waited to see you, hoping you could go to the bar together. You could talk about it then.

When he did finally see you, he noted you were dressed up a bit more than usual, and the feeling in his gut only worsened.

"Y/n!" He called out as he saw you walking towards the parking lot.

As you turned at the sound of his voice and smiled, he felt a small amount of relief wash over him.

"You wanna drive to the bar together?" He asked casually, nothing unusual about the request.

Your face changed, and he felt his chest tighten.

"Sorry Ice, I'm not going tonight. I have a date."

Various feelings ran through him as he stared at you. 'Ice'? You haven't called him that in years. It's been Tom and Y/n for ages.

"Date?" He asked, his voice giving away his confusion.

You nodded, a somewhat shy smile on your face. There was something else there, in your eyes, but he focused too much on his on feelings to catch it.

"And I'm running a bit late, so I gotta go. I'll see you later." You smiled and turned to leave, leaving Tom standing alone basking in his own confusion and jealousy.

You had to go quickly, otherwise you'd give in an go with Tom. You couldn't waste another night of watching him flirt with everyone but you.

Tom stood there for a few minutes, watching as you drove off. His chest was tight and his breathing uneven as he tried to fully understand why he was feeling so upset about this.

Before now, he had never fully comprehended that you could start dating someone. That it wouldn't be him who was the closest man to you in your life. He just always assumed it would just be him. But why?

Suddenly it hit him. Because he wanted it to be that way.

He loved the idea of you and him. Sure he hooked up with some people here and there, but he had never been in a relationship. Because, well, because of you.

As he stood there and realization washed over him he felt uneasy on his feet.

It wasn't that he wanted to be your best friend, it's that he wanted to be with you. He just never fully comprehended it until now, until he realized he might be losing you to another guy.

"Hey Ice, you going to the bar?" Wolfman asked as he walked past.

Tom looked over at him and forced a smile "Yeah, yeah I'll be there in a while." He lied.

Tom looked down the road where you had driven off and felt his gut twist. He felt an overwhelming urge to chase after you. If only he knew were you were going. But he didn't. So he would wait.

----

As you pulled back into base, you had a soft smile on your face as you thought about the last couple of hours. Your date had gone surprisingly well, and you got along great.

You liked him. But you knew that wasn't enough. Every time he leaned in closer, flirted, or tried to make a move, an image of Tom would flash in your mind, and you would pull away. He wasn't Tom, he never would be.

Walking towards the barracks, you almost jumped as you saw a silhouette leaning against the wall. It only took a second before you were able to full recognize who it was.

You continued to walk closer "Tom?" You asked with a soft and curious voice.

His head snapped up at the sound of your voice and he quickly stepped away from the wall. "Y/n."

"Is something wrong?" You asked, seeing the almost overwhelmed look on his face.

"No, well- I was just waiting for you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you stopped in front of him, "Why?"

He seemed uncomfortable as he looked around "I wanted to make sure you got back alright."

You chuckled "Okay, thanks dad."

He smiled softly and shook his head "I also wanted to talk to you."

You felt a nervous flutter in your stomach "About what?"

He opened his mouth but hesitated before he cleared his throat "Do you like him? This guy you went out with?"

He knew it was the guy from the bar the other night, it had to be.

"Yeah, I do."

He nodded his head "How much?"

You let out a soft scoff "Why doesn't it matter Tom, what is this?"

He let out a frustrated breath as he rubbed the back of his neck "I just- I don't like it. You, you meet this guy at a bar and talk for what an hour, and your already going out with him?"

So he did see you the other night? Realization hit you, and an odd sense of satisfaction came with it. But why was he acting like this? What did it mean?

"Isn't that how it usually works?" You asked with a bewildered tone. "I mean, haven't you done the same with a dozen women you've met the same way, why am I suddenly wrong for doing it?" Your voice rose with your annoyance.

Your words made Tom realize he was being a hypocrite. He sighed and lifted his hands up "You're right, I'm sorry. I just." He swallowed harshly as he avoided your gaze.

"It's just what, Tom?" Your voice was softer now.

"I don't like the idea of you going out with other guys." He admitted quickly.

You felt the realization of is words hit you like a truck, while also cementing you in place. "You don't like the idea of it?"

"I don't want you to go out with other men." He corrected himself.

"Other men?"

"Men that aren't me, okay?!" He rose his voice a little "Look, I didn't realize it until I saw you with that guy last night, but then tonight you went out with him and it hit me like a ton of bricks that I-" He stopped and met your eyes, and you saw an almost panicked look behind them.

"That you what Tom?" You asked as you stepped closer.

He could see the look in your eyes, reflecting his own sense of desperation.

"That I love you."

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your heartbeat was so heavy you felt it in your head. You felt an overwhelming wave of emotion wash over you. Shock, relief, joy, but the loudest, was anger.

"You've gotta be kidding me." You let out a soft almost scornful laugh.

Tom frowned, as his chest clenched.

"All this time, all this time." You turned and paced for a moment before turning back to face him "For years, all I've ever wanted was for you to see me. All I've wanted was for you to want me. But you never did. And when I finally give it up, and try to move on, now you do?"

Tom realized what you meant and felt guilt wash over him. How long had you waited for him to realize? How long had you ached over him never returning your feelings?

"I'm sorry." He said softly "I'm sorry it took me so long to see it. I mean, even before I realized that I loved you like this, I knew I loved you in some way. And I knew that I wanted to be with you I just didn't realize how."

He took a step closer to you before slowly reaching up and brushing his hand down your arm until he took your hand in his.

"Y/n, it might be selfish, but I cant see myself ever living without you. And I dont want to."

Looking into his eyes, you saw nothing but honesty, and though you were angry with the time wasted, and the truly bad timing, you couldn't help but smile.

"I'll never forgive you for making me wait, you know?"

He smiled as he tugged you closer "I know. And I deserve it."

His eyes flicked down to your lips, and he felt an overwhelming urge to kiss you.

He met your eyes again "And I will make it up to you every day."

"Oh will you?" You asked with a smile.

He nodded and smiled in return "Yeah, I will."

Leaning in swiftly, his lips pressed against yours, catching you by surprise. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach before sending an electric shiver through your body as you leaned into the kiss.

Even if he did make you wait, it was better late than never.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun/Iceman Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07, @pockyandme, @iceman-kazansky, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @linkxneptune, @creativitybeware, @callsignmaverick5, @phoenix1389, @readingwithatorch

[compacflt]

Would you ever consider writing about a different path Ice and Mav could take, one where they choose to leave the Navy and pursue a more open relationship and civilian life? Thinking it would be easier but maybe the sacrifice to their careers brings its own challenges?

(hi, jan 2024 me here, this was an ask that I answered when it was sent in in May 2023 & didn't post because I felt I actually answered it fictionally in the "icedad" one-shot the week after [and you can obviously see how these thoughts affected the writing of other pieces like "tremors & aftershocks"], but I still mostly agree with this take [though it's a little overgeneralizing] & I think it sums up a lot of my final "meta" modern-military-theory thoughts on ice & mav & their relationship, so im posting it now before I post the compacflt masterpoast)

see,… the thing is, i just… can’t see that happening!! i have no idea how to write that!!! Maybe i really do have a lack of imagination. But i can’t see that happening for a number of reasons. So short answer, no.

Long answer (and it’s long):

1. lame reason to start out, but it, uh, it’s canon that ice ends up at O-10 and mav ends up at O-6. not saying that im beholden to canon obviously (my mav ends up at O-7 and my ice ends up alive) but I do base my characterizations of them on the implications of the political struggles of both their careers so… taking away ice’s fourth star is basically starting from square one wrt my characterization of him. which is a lot of work. i could start from the beginning with a top gun 1986 ice who knows he’s gay—that would be a fun AU (i think other people than me have definitely done that better, though—I’m a one-trick pony). So if that’s what you mean then disregard the rest of this post. but if what you mean is a divergence from my existing work (i.e. homophobic/rank-climbing ice&mav) then… yeah, can’t see that happening, for further reasons below.

2. wrt my characterization of him: it’s based on a broad historical overview of armed service officers and the expectations of their careers. in my view, high-ranking officers aren’t after power—or maybe they started their careers wanting power, but somewhere down the line, it just becomes an expectation. if you do everything right and follow all the rules, you are expected by the institution to lead, whether you want to or not. That’s just the pipeline. at some point you start losing agency. which is what I mean when I keep saying ice doesn’t have a choice in advancing his career (besides the meta fact that this is fanfiction and canon demands that he have 4 stars lol)—high ranking military officers are continually and continually groomed for bigger and better positions; and the longer they spend in the military, the harder it is to leave that lifestyle for something else. And with ice’s canonical (and characteristically INTEGRAL, as I mentioned a week or so ago) refusal to rebel against the wishes of the navy as an institution, plus this historical expectation to lead placed upon the shoulders of excelling officers, I really do think ice is destined for four stars & nothing less, even if it gives him chronic depression. It’s his highest priority not because he wants it to be, but because…it just is. that’s how the institutionalized system of advancement in the military works. it just is. it has to be.

3. I mentioned in this post that I can’t ever see a foot in the door with them talking about their relationship unless maverick dies and is resurrected, and I feel the exact same way about them & their retirement plans. There’s a lot that ice and mav don’t talk about: the biggest one is obviously Goose’s death, the foundation of their relationship; but also their love for each other obv, what they did to rooster, AND their careers, which have to end at some point. Them talking about everything is totally inevitable, it was gonna have to happen eventually before they died, and I think one foot in the door MIGHT have been them eventually talking about retirement (someone sent in a prompt asking for this exactly & i am brainstorming it furiously) but before the Navy FORCES them to retire… i think they would studiously avoid talking about it. For a couple reasons: a) what does retiring with each other mean? living in the same house until they die together? hard to do if you’re just good friends. talking about retirement is tantamount to talking about Them. and b) what are they gonna do outside the navy? Ice has a lot of options, as I mentioned in the slider one-shot—general/flag officers are SUPER sought after in leadership/intelligentsia/management positions post service, so maybe if he were offered a crazy cool civilian position somewhere in San Diego in like the 2000s he would quit the navy for it… but what about maverick? I have no idea what a non-navy mav would do. Civilian airline pilot? Hoo boy. I think he’d hate that. I could maybe see emergency helicopter pilot, lol, or race car driver (i just watched days of thunder can you tell?) but none of the above offers the institutionalized honor the navy does (that, as a reminder, he *killed people* to obtain in the first place). I suggested his test piloting expertise would make him an attractive technical advising candidate to A&D companies like Boeing, LockMart, GD, etc. so that might be one option. But it might have been kind of a touchy subject for him before he racked up the expertise he’d need for those high-level civilian positions… the navy was kinda his only option. So they wouldn’t talk about it because it might hurt his feelings.

4. The biggest reason: again… open rebellion like rocking the boat by quitting the navy to be in an open long-term gay relationship, in upper mil brass ranks, and even retired upper mil brass ranks, just… isn’t done. And REALLY wasn’t done in the 2000s, when i think the scenario in this ask is positioned. And it’s not like “oh but whatever who cares about the navy, ice and mav are in love, they deserve to be happy no matter what, they should do what they want, fuck the navy…” no. Ice and Mav care about the navy. Clearly. Canonically. By necessity. The military requires cohesion and on some level repression of individuality & personal expression to FUNCTION, even when you’re retired. Yes, maverick certainly strains against that repression (which is why you Could spin top gun as an anti-military franchise if you were desperate enough), but he rebels through his ACTIONS (stupid plane maneuvers) not through his personal IDENTITY. his personal identity (headstrong overtly masculine white male pilot, whether gay or straight who cares) is NEVER challenged throughout the franchise (i.e. no one really challenges his masculinity specifically) & his personal identity does not POSE a challenge to the navy. Both he and ice in their outward-facing personal identities really fit in quite neatly to the navy’s overarching identity & contribute to the navy’s cohesion in a way that is favorable to both their careers and the establishment. Lack of imagination or not… i can’t see a universe in which Ice and mav would actively WANT to rock the boat and wreck the navy’s cohesion and their reputations for an open relationship and definitively rebellious personal identities, with the obvious caveat being Maverick’s death recontextualizing both their priorities (yes we’re in love AND we’ve finally proven ourselves to be ultra-capable officers regardless of our sexuality so no one has a license to judge us anymore etc.).

And also, they’re not enlisted seamen. Nor are they mediocre officers who have the luxury of fading into obscurity. Things are different when you’re that high in the ranks, and when your job publicly matters more. sorry, but even post DADT (probably until about biden’s election), an open relationship would end their careers. They might not be fired, but they’d never be promoted again. Too much of a liability getting subordinates to still respect them, from the higher-ups’ perspective, especially if there are other qualified candidates who fit the navy’s core identity better. Like—sorry. This is such a jaded oversimplification. But if you rock the boat like that (i.e. break the service’s united front to be individualistic in a way that does not match the service’s overarching identity), from the perspective of your officer peers, you simply are a bad officer. Being an open individual in a job where you are required to fit in and represent your service is not your job. You are not doing your job well. Straight-up. Even if you’re retired. I met US Army 4-star gen. David Petraeus (retired obv) in February—he led the successful-ish surge in iraq and Afghanistan in the mid-2000s—and he’s STILL a laughingstock for his disastrous affair with his biographer a decade ago, even after he retired from AD service. That’s what people remember him for, not the fact that he was one of our only successful commanders in any of our Middle East campaigns.

Something like that might be one of ice and mav’s worst fears—being known for their affair/scandal instead of the institutionalized honor they’ve fought and killed for. That kind of thing just Isn’t Done. It's bad taste. You have to keep it quiet. If you’re an officer representing the service, you have to represent it well & according to the service’s preconceived identity, even in retirement. (see, for another shitty example of "not fitting in" even in retirement, Lt. gen. Mike Flynn [his whole scandal is actually kinda geopolitically relevant to my fic if you squint lol] whom everyone fucking hates)

To summarize: i hope I’m not mischaracterizing your ask when i reframe it like this—would you ever write ice and mav without the institutionalized pressure to advance in rank and conform to institutional norms?

and yes, I would (and will if you ask—it looks like this: ice & mav meet & fall in love & it’s boring and fine. end of story), but I guarantee you someone else already has. I’m all about interrogation of institutional norms here. And i think until maverick dies & comes back from the dead, there is absolutely no *REALISTIC* incentive for ice & mav to leave the navy and/or have an open relationship. Like it’s just not possible. Idk how else to say it.

[streetsweepershenanigans]

How do I say goodbye?

It was a pleasant afternoon, the hot sun made cool by the breeze blowing in off the ocean. The kind of afternoon that made you want to turn up your music to just this side of too loud and roll down all the windows as you drove, which is exactly what Ice did. He’d made up his mind to suggest dinner outside on the back deck that night when he pulled into the drive, smiling when he saw Maverick’s bike. 

Spinning his car keys on a finger, Ice stepped into their small house, greeted by a gentle blast coming from the AC. Keys in the bowl, bag on the hook, shoes off, it was a well-practiced dance Ice performed with utmost grace. 

“Nice day, huh Mav?” Ice called out into the suspicious quiet of the house. “Mav? How was your day?” He tried again, but still nothing. Looking around the door frame into the living room, Ice finally found the other pilot. “Mav?” Ice called out softly upon spotting him. 

Stepping closer, Ice took in the sight before him. Maverick was sat on the edge of the couch, the landline held limply in his hand, eyes unseeing. As Ice neared, he could hear the quiet buzz of the deadline through the speaker of the phone. How long had Maverick been sitting there? 

“Mav?” Ice knelt down and placed his hand on Maverick’s knee, ducking his head to try and look into his eyes, but Maverick only looked through him. “Pete-” It was the use of his Christian name that cause Maverick to stutter out of his stillness. 

“Ice?” His voice was hoarse.

“Maverick, what happened?” Ice gently lifted the phone out of Maverick’s hands and placed it back in the receiver without looking away from him.

“I-” Maverick’s eyes were quickly beginning to gloss over, “Viper’s dead.” 

Ice breathed out audibly and began to run his hand up and down Maverick’s arm. “Oh Mav, I’m…” Ice didn’t know what to say. It began to dawn on him, Maverick had been only six when his father had gone MIA. He hadn’t gotten to really mourn, he barely remembered a time when he’d had a father. Viper had been so much more than a CO to him, for all intents and purposes, Maverick had just lost the only person in his life who could come close to being a father in his eyes. Ice swallowed, “I’m sorry.” What else did you say to someone who just lost a father? 

“Ice, I-” Several emotions flashed across Maverick’s face in the second he’d paused before finally his face settled in a pinch expression, his lip beginning to quiver under the tenseness. “He was like…” Maverick’s watery voice brought tears to Ice’s eyes. He hadn’t sounded like this since Goose. 

“I know,” Ice pulled Maverick into his chest, wrapping his arms around his back, fingers clutching tight to Maverick’s tee. Maverick’s breath gave a tentative hitch before he collapsed into the safety of Ice’s arms and broke down with his face buried in Ice’s neck. The carpet was beginning to burn Ice’s knees, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, any pain he might feel at that moment was surely nothing compared to what Maverick must be going through. Ice squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face to plant gentle kisses into the inky mass of Maverick’s hair, rocking them gently. Whatever Maverick needed, Ice decided, he would provide. This was a generally excepted fact any day of the week, but now more than ever, Ice resolved. 

[lapseinrecs]

take a chance on the edge of life

By Lacerta

On Archive of Our Own

Status: Complete; Oneshot; 3,096 words; Complete sequel

Summary: It was a suicide mission. Of course they didn't succeed on their first try. - When Maverick dies, he loops back to the morning before.

My thoughts: I love time travel and Edge of Tomorrow is low key a good movie. Still. Poor Mav.

[orchidvk]

Just a little something I wrote when I got the inspiration to do that :)

I know it doesn't quite fit with the timeline but that wasn't what I was going for, I just wanted some angst and a little bit of comfort with IceMav.

I hope you like it anyway.

Warnings: swearing

"You know, B told me what he wanted to be when he got older."

Ice said and stirred the pasta, Mav looked up from the book he was mindlessly reading in.

"Yeah?"

"Yep. He said he wanted to become a pilot just like us. He even asked me if we could recommend him, he is adorable."

Mav didn't respond, he couldn't respond.

"Promise me....not to let him fly, Pete. Please...I don't want him to end up like Nick.

Promise me, please."

"I promise..."

Ice turned away from the stove and looked at his wingman.

"Mav? What's wrong? Isn't that sweet?"

The smaller man stood up and looked at Tom, his hands shaking.

"I...We can't let that happen, Ice. I promised Carole not to let him fly."

"You...? You did what?"

The blond asked and felt stunned, anger bubbling inside of him but also a bit of pain, especially for Bradley.

"She asked me to not let him fly...She didn't want him to end up like Nick.

Please, you have to understand, Tom."

Tom shook his head in return, the dinner cooking behind him already forgotten.

"How can you just decide that for him? Do you know what you would do to him? Do you realize how much you would hurt him?"

"Thomas...I promised her...."

"But she isn't here!" Tom started to yell, tears shining in his eyes. "Carole is not here and neither is Goose! For fuck's sake! You are barely here! It is him and me...

I have to switch between father, mother, housewife, and rear admiral just because YOU CAN'T FUCKING BEHAVE!"

Ice didn't mean to yell but he couldn't keep his emotions inside any longer. All the things he has been keeping inside bursting out.

The tears are falling freely now.

"I don't want ghosts to decide what is good for my kid! I don't want ghosts to decide what he should do and what not! We are responsible...Both of us and we both decide what is good for him and he decides what is good for him!"

The brown-haired man stared at Ice with an expression full of hurt, tears are also falling down his cheeks.

"I never forced you to stay, Ice.

I never forced you to stay and take care of a child that isn't even yours."

That was a low blow that hit Iceman hard.

"Yes, you are right. I never had any obligation.

But I stayed and I still stay because I love you and I love him and if you think you can win this argument by saying I never had to stay in the first place then you are not only wrong but also an asshole."

Ice put the pasta in some colorful containers he got from his sister-in-law Becky and put them carefully into the fridge, he figured both of them wouldn't be eating anything tonight.

"I'm not going to discuss this with you any further. Take the bed, Mav.

I need to...I need to clean the kitchen."

That was an obvious lie, Mav couldn't see one single stain. The only thing Ice could clean was the pot where the pasta had cooked a couple of minutes ago.

But Mav also knew that Ice needed something to do and that if he wasn't stress-baking he needed to stress-clean.

So he started to make his way upstairs in silence but before he could reach the first step, Bradley came through the front door, eyes red and blood dripping from his elbow.

"Pa! Can you help me clean that up?" The kid's shorts were full of grass stains, Ice probably already got a heart attack from that sight, his shirt was full of already dried mud and his knees suffered also a bit but didn't bleed.

"Of course, Baby Goose. What happened?"

"We played and I stumbled and I hit the concrete instead of the grass."

Even though Bradley Bradshaw has reached the age of 8 years, Iceman's inner mother hen came out and he picked the boy up to drag him into the bathroom.

"I can do that, Ice," Pete said quietly, the blond man stayed still for a moment before shaking his head.

"No need. I'll do it, just go to bed."

And he was gone.

Maverick made his way upstairs and into their master bathroom, where he got ready for bed.

He knew he wouldn't catch one bit of sleep but the thought counts.

The pilot can hear his boys in the bathroom, talking and water running.

Mav can imagine exactly what Ice did, his lover was always gentle and caring.

He probably got rid of the blood, put a bandage around their kid's elbow, and brushed his teeth with him together.

Maverick remembers it like it was yesterday.

Bradley was still small back then, smaller than now and the three of them used to brush their teeth together every evening.

After taking care of Bradley, Ice send the boy to bed with a kiss on the forehead and went down into the kitchen.

He finally broke down there, weeping and sobbing. Today was just too much to handle.

He tried to be as quiet as possible because he knew that Bradley wasn't asleep yet but played on his Gameboy and he didn't want the kid to see him like this.

Ice's hands gripped the sponge tight while he scrubbed at the stain on the floor.

It doesn't come off.

For god's sake, why doesn't it come off?

It was driving the blond pilot insane, tears mix with the water from the sponge, and Ice scrubs so hard that he thinks the stain might come off with the wood.

He didn't stop, didn't let the soft material in his hand go until another hand grabbed his.

"Hey....love. We talked about this didn't we?"

Pete was kneeling in front of him, keeping his hands from moving.

"This is a wine stain we can't get rid of." The man finished his sentence and took the sponge.

"But it bothers me..." Tom whispers, voice full of sorrow and defeat.

"I know it does...."

The two men were sitting on the floor, leaning against the kitchen counter in silence.

"I'm sorry...You are right...." Mav says after some time and Tom freezes.

"No...I know how seriously you take promises, I should've talked differently with you about this.

I shouldn't have said those things to you."

Maverick intertwined their hands.

"Maybe but I also shouldn't have said certain things to you and I should be here with you and him.

I'm just sorry that you had to tell me how you felt in such a way. I made you yell instead of talk it out."

[makingyoufeels1ck]

if you read any of my icemav oneshots i will kiss your forehead and cry maybe

[eliashirsch]

God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (1/3)

As of 15th May 2024, these are some of the BEST stories I have read in the fandom. Of course, this is completely subjective and there are many personal factors as to why I crowned them God Tier. 

Mainly:

Reading it for the first time: ‘Oh, this is really good, I’m going to be thinking about this for the rest of my life’

When compiling the list: ‘Oh my god, this fic, man, this fic!!’

There are many other fics that match the first criteria, but for it to be on this list, I needed to have these two reactions.

REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!! They’re there for a reason. PLEASE make sure you understand where the story is going to be before reading!!

Without further ado, I present to you, my roman empires:)

Winner Categories:

1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)

2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)

3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)

4. Honorary Mentions (4/3)

Best of the Best Authors

Authors that I trust with my life, whose work are ALL incredibly well written. 

COMPACFLT @compacflt

They’re the first person to pop in my head when I was thinking about making this list. No amount of time and words will be enough for me to describe how good their work is. Seriously. It’s on a level I’ve never seen before for fanfiction. The world building, the characterization, the prose, everything. COMPACFLT has a way of understanding these characters, it makes so much sense and fits so well with canon. I’m just at a loss for words. Genuinely the reason I converted to Icemav supremacy.

When We Get Around to Talking About It 

Goose has been dead for a week and a half when Iceman loses his first wingman in a dogfight with six Soviet MiGs over the Sea of Okhotsk. Goose has been dead for thirty years when Iceman loses his second wingman to a surface-to-air missile on the tail-end of a mission he's responsible for: he's sent his family on a suicide mission to destroy a uranium enrichment facility in Russia's Far East. This is the story of those thirty years in the middle. (Or: Tom Kazansky rises through the ranks while trying to stay a good man. If he ever was one to begin with.)

This was the first story I’ve read from them. And it’s so… I don’t have words.  It’s told from Ice’s perspective, filling the gaps between TG and TG:M with added Icemav and Hangster. In my mind this is canon:D

Debriefing (& Other Stories)

"We can start here, I guess. If we're talking about us," Pete says. "Nineteen-eighty-six. The first thing I thought, when I saw you in that O-club, was: Iceman is off-limits. Capital O, capital L." Despite himself, despite the fear, Tom laughs a little. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?" "Well, first off, we were competition. And yeah, you were attractive, but then you opened your mouth and I swear. You were just an asshole. Goose is trying to introduce you to me and here I am thinking about how much of an asshole you are. Shut up about Cougar, asshole." "It was supposed to be a friendly competition!" "Yeah, right. So that's what I was thinking: he's attractive, clearly doesn't know how to talk to other men, might be into the proposition if I framed it the right way. But he's an asshole, so this competition is just gonna be friendly." Pete pauses. Then he says, "Ice, you wanna get married?" And that's how they start talking about it. (Or: they finally get around to talking about it. Plus a couple extra stories for good luck.)

Sigh and send COMPACFLT a loving look. This Maverick's POV adds so much to the story without being repetitive. COMPACFLT deliberately tells their story like puzzle pieces, and they complete each other—just like Icemav, if you will. 

The Slider oneshot is truly something else. I was so eager for the upload and kept an eye on their account for updates religiously. To flesh out a character that barely has any source material is an incredible skill to have. And the Bradley oneshot… Omg… My favorite characterization of Bradley, period. 

Tremors & Aftershocks

They both come back to their senses and stop openly crying again eventually. The stitches fall out of the thirty-year-old wounds and the scars fade back to skin-color. Life stops being so painfully raw after a couple weeks back home. You get used to miracles the way you get used to anything else. One day at a time. [Or: 40 years of extras, from 1982-2022. Some true love, some heartbreak, some miracles.]

To me, this one has a different feeling from the other two. More focused on Ice and Mav’s relationship as opposed to the whole plotline. It’s tender and bittersweet and feels like being hugged for the first time and then told that you wouldn’t get another hug in thirty years time.  

What impresses me most is that, if you go to COMPACFLT’s Tumblr account, you’ll see the thought they’ve put for these stories are INSANE. They’re so educated on the military and its history and it adds so much to these characters. I’m not American and all my writing for Top Gun will always stem from google searches and other fics. If you’re a nerd like me and like to read about other’s analysis about topics they know nothing about, I suggest you go to their account and have fun.

COMPACFLT, you have captured my soul with your writing. Thank you for your service and I wish you well in life.

AortaArgent @aortaargent

If you’re looking for an author who can write smut like nothing else, go to their profile. Better yet, click here, and scroll down to the threads they made about girl!Mav and get horny real quick. It’s a shortcut to heaven really. (And yes, I’m still upset that they seem to have left the fandom, but I still hold the stories they’ve left behind close to my heart:)) My favorites:

like a shotgun (needs an outcome)

“Ice gave me a handjob when we did this,” he argues. “Oh, that’s what gets you moving? Seeing who comes first?” With that, Slider takes hold of him, wrapping his hand around and keeping his fist steady. “Go on, baby girl. Fuck it like a good little -” He squeezes Slider’s balls a little harder than he’d imagine is necessarily pleasant. For Slider. It's definitely nice for him. “Fuck,” Kerner chokes out, weakly. Ice sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “I told you he bites.” In which there are multiple realisations, improbable numbers of pilots hanging out in a shared shower, volleyball games and verbal tennis. Yes, it's compulsory to wear your dogtags in the shower - never know when you could need identification. (Only kidding, it's for added fuckability.)

It’s so hot... but believable at the same time. BDSM is just one of those things where you read about it and can tell if the author has experience or is just extremely well-informed. 

Eye to Eye 

“Maybe it’s not just us looking to get a piece of you,” Wolf says. He’s right by Maverick’s head, and a shiver rolls down his shoulders in a sweeping tide at the soft click of each word against his ear. “Maybe we offered. You’re so pretty, Mav. It’s not a hard sell.” His hands twitch with the effort of not reaching up to tear off the blindfold and find out if they’re telling the truth or just winding him up. It’s possible. Occupied, blindfolded, he might not have noticed the door opening. More guys could have been in the showers. Two hands circle his ankles, firm over his boots, and hold him steady. Someone else has his left hand, kneading the tendons down the back of it. Anyone and anything is plausible. A continuation. Finally.

HOT DAMN. That’s all.

AortaArgent portrayed Ice and Mav’s relationship as absolute and secure while having fun with Mav’s dynamic with the other guys. All of their works are mind-boggling and simply amazing!

thecarlysutra @icemankazansky

Need I say more? Carly’s one of the most prominent members of the Top Gun fandom. Actually, I trust any member of the Top Gun Old Guard. With Carly, there’s something about their writing that makes me think of discovering an old box of CDs you used to watch relentlessly, dusty and worn, but the nostalgia rushes back and it’s achingly familiar. You can tell they’ve been writing for Top Gun for so long the characters kind of became their own. And when you click on any fic they wrote, you can fall and trust they’ll catch you. My favorites:

and i promise, you're the locksmith

“Is something going on in your neighborhood?” Maverick asked. “Like … a pest problem or something?” “You could say that,” Ice said. “Like … a coyote or something?” “Suitors,” Ice said. Maverick's attempts to woo Iceman are somewhat complicated by the promise Ice has made: Anyone who wants to marry him must catch his cat, which wears the key to his house around its neck on a silver chain. Inspired by the Tumblr legend.

This one’s so cute!!! Ugh, I’m never going to get tired of reading Icemav fall in love over and over again. 

Dreams of Impact

Maverick's trip in Darkstar takes him further than he ever imagined possible.

Sigh for the second time and send hearts Carly’s way. Basically, Mav gets transported to another universe and weird things happen. I love fics that dabble with the universe, the what-ifs, the what could’ve been. Do you ever have that moment when you make a decision, look back and wonder how life would be if you chose differently? Click on the link and read 🫵

aelibia @topgunreacts

God. aelibia’s just too good. It’s like banger after banger after banger. If you’re looking for an author whose work is a guaranteed good read, click the link and it’ll show you magic. They have Icemav ranging from tender and soft to angsty, portraying all different sorts of love and a way of writing explicit sex that I’ve never found anywhere else. 

I can’t even pick which one’s my favorite because they’re all my favorite. Especially the series they wrote, oh my god. I love them all. However, one that I reread religiously and being giddy over is this:

Wine Dark Sea

Raised by a selkie mother bound to a human man, Ice returns to the human world as a teenager with a singular purpose: to find the source of human strength, and claim it for himself. But after a careless mistake binds him to another human man, Ice is forced to reconsider his most fundamental beliefs: What is the meaning of strength? And what is the cost of freedom?

It’s so silly at times and heartbreaking most of the time. I especially love the later chapters where the evil is defeated and Ice is just being a silly seal while Mav’s being the supportive partner that he is. This fic is the SOLE REASON that my favorite animal is a seal. Thank you for opening my eyes to something that has been so obvious from the start, your majesty aelibia.

I also humbly present these seal drawings because the image of Ice galumphing around a Navy base, complete with wet smacks and people shrieking in horror makes me laugh everyday. That, and the scene where Mav is surrounded by four fat harbor seal pups and reading a story to them. Eleven out of ten. 

This one’s my favorite:}

[the-authoress-writes]

Wherever You Go Chapter One

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Aviator!reader (Callsign: Thorn)

Moodboard by @bradshawsbaby

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge

Synopsis: Tom Kazansky made a mistake.

Or rather, a series of mistakes.

He chose to take the assignment as an instructor at TOPGUN.

He fell in love with one of his students.

He broke her heart.

He chose to leave TOPGUN, and redeploy.

Now, he was stuck onboard the USS Nimitz with the woman whose heart he broke, with no way out.

Unbelievably, that’s not the problem.

Problem is, he still loves her.

Series Warnings: Teacher/Student relationship (but you already knew that) with no real age gap, warnings will be updated as the series progresses.

Warnings: Here be cursing, because these are people in the Navy.

I don’t think there’s anything else, though.

Author’s Note: “It’s only going to be a oneshot.”

Yeah, freaking right.

This took forever (become a church musician, they said, it’ll be fun, they said, you’re in charge of the choir for the Advent season and Christmas while the choir director is on medical leave), but I’m fairly happy with how this turned out.

I think.

The impostor syndrome do be impostoring.

Thank you so, so very much to @roosterforme for hosting the Top Gun Rocktober Fic Challenge, and for allowing me to use one of my favorite 80s rock ballads, “The Flame” by Cheap Trick.

Lyrics from the song will be peppered in throughout this series, because it’s too good not to, and the song is the reason this story exists, as it is what birthed the plotline.

A huge thank you and shout out to @thatsrightice, who helped me so much with the hop maneuvers, by researching the F-14 and A-4 high and low for me.

Special thanks also to @valmare, the fact that I am writing Tom Kazansky x reader! fic is all your fault; but thank you so much for dragging me down with you, it’s been an absolute joy!

Previously on “Wherever You Go”…

And as he ate Carole’s heavenly consolation in a cookie, Tom reflected on just how he’d ended up in this position.

Two months ago…

“So, you looking forward to teaching the next generation of stick jocks like us, Ice?” Mav spoke, barely intelligible around the food he had in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak whatever language that was, because it definitely wasn’t English.” Tom deadpanned, looking up from his forkful of the fairly-decent facsimile of scrambled eggs from the famed Officer’s Mess Hall of NAS Miramar.

Mav rolled his eyes and hastily swallowed his own forkful of eggs. “I said, are you looking forward to teaching the next generation of pilots like us, Ice?”

“Like me?

Yes.

Like you?

No.”

With Slider’s approval, he had taken the instructor assignment after it was offered to him shortly after the Layton, he and Slider wanting a little stability for two or three years—maybe even four—the Layton mission having shaved off what felt like a whole decade from their lifespan.

The fact that he was going to be able to fly and show off—sorry—instruct, was a nice bonus.

And the fact that his wingman, the only other pilot who could hold a candle to him, was also an instructor, was another plus.

They’d kick the asses of the hotshots they were going to teach, no problem.

“Oh, come on, you know I’m the best,” Mav grinned, nearly maniacally.

Tom put his scrambled eggs in his mouth, and made a show of chewing and swallowing, before replying, “Second best,” gesturing with his fork.

“I’m the best and you know it,” Mav practically vibrated.

Tom squinted at his wingman. “How much sugar did you put in your coffee?”

The other pilot froze guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed—hyper Mav was even more of a chaotic gremlin than normal Mav.

The younger man had an incredibly high, almost unnatural, tolerance for sugar, but put enough of it in his system, and you got one Pete Mitchell who could fly without a jet.

Tom had personally seen the other man put what seemed like half a sugar bottle in one cup of coffee. “Why?”

Mav pouted, looking like a child, and not the twenty-four year-old naval aviator he was. “I just wanted to indulge myself a little, Ice, ‘cause, you know, we’re instructors—together—we’re gonna kick ass—it’s gonna be great!”

“I know we’re gonna kick ass, but you’re not going to be able to instruct if you’re vibrating so much they can’t even see you,” Tom chuckled, shaking his head, trying to figure out how he could burn off Mav’s extra energy before they, along with Viper and Jester, had to head to the classroom to greet their new students later that morning.

“I know—but I just wanted something a little sweet as a treat,” Mav murmured, green eyes cast down and glazed with shame, and he got a glimpse of the child his wingman must have been over fifteen years ago.

He softened on the younger pilot, and reached out to ruffle the raven hair with a soft smile. “‘m not mad at you, Mav, it’s okay.”

Mav pulled away with a grimace and a slap at Tom’s hand, before fussing with his dark hair, but the familiar light returned to the other man’s eyes, though with considerably less mania than two minutes ago.

They continued eating, but Tom’s devious side reared its head. “You do know what this means, though, right?”

“Wha’?”

Tom nearly laughed right there.

Mav had half a forkful of eggs balanced on his lower lip.

“You and I are going to go for a little run around the south hangars, to burn off that energy.”

An intense green stare fixed on him, clearly considering. “Okay, fine—I might… might have overdone it a little bit with the sugar packets.”

“A ‘little’, huh?

Good for you, bud, getting more self-aware.”

“Fuck you, Kazansky,” Mav smirked.

“No thanks, not in the mood,” Tom grinned. “Come on, finish up, so we can get a decent shower after our run.”

“You okay there, old man?” came the smug voice not far above his head.

“Two—two years, that’s all you have on me, Mav,” Tom muttered, massaging the ankle and knee of his right leg, stretched out on the bench of the instructor’s locker room, mentally cursing the old injuries he’d sustained there from a bad ejection he and Sli endured during one of their first deployments, on the Constellation, when the arresting gear failed because a new crewman didn’t check the weight on the valve of the wire.

It was why he had to wear a wrap on his knee and ankle whenever he and Slider played volleyball.

Mav continued, “You know I was gonna kick your ass running even if I wasn’t amped up on sugar, right?

Tall people wear out faster—that’s what you get for being freakishly tall.”

Tom frowned. “If I’m freakishly tall, what’s Merlin?”

Long pause.

Smirk.

“No,” Mav accusingly pointed, “I refuse to fall for that—I will not speak ill of my RIO, even though I’m his teacher.”

Tom chuckled.

Merlin had been lucky to be selected for TOPGUN again, though it was with the caveat that he wouldn’t be able to win the trophy in his session, as his pilot was going to be an instructor.

Merls had taken it well in stride, glad to be at TOPGUN, even if it meant he’d only graduate, as a reserve RIO for his session.

“Hey, did you hear?

History’s being made this session—we’re teaching the first female naval aviator selected for TOPGUN,” Tom remarked, once he’d eased the ache in his knee and ankle.

“Yeah, I know—and I know her; hell of a pilot,” Mav nodded. “Hell of a woman too.”

“Oh?” a blond brow rose wryly.

“Yeah, I met her two or so years ago, when the Black Aces chopped in on the Big E.

Callsign’s Thorn.

And don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Mav’s voice was slightly muffled as he dug through his locker for a stick of deodorant. “Like you think I know her… carnally.

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t flirt with any woman with a pulse.”

“Only most,” Tom nodded sagely, a smirk tugging his lips, even though his wingman couldn’t see it.

A finger was flipped in his direction over a shoulder. “Get in your khakis already, Icy-Hot-Man.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fuck you, Mav.”

“No thanks, not in the mood,” Mav threw back, and the shit-eating grin was audible in his voice, which made Tom secretly smile, to know his wingman and brother was happy.

After the two of them managed to get into their khakis in record time, they came up to the building with their classroom right with Jester and Viper, who spotted them and waved off their salutes. “Kazansky, Mitchell.

It’s good to see you both.

You ready.”

It was more statement than question, but despite the stoicism on the Vietnam veteran’s face, Tom could see the pride in his CO’s eyes, and the added glint of paternal pride, when he looked at Mav.

Though it made him sad to see that, reminding him of what he used to have, Tom was glad that the other aviator had a paternal influence in his adult life.

He’d had one before—Mav, on the other hand, hadn’t.

He really missed his Dedushka.

He pushed the thought away in time to see Viper gesture to follow him and Jester inside.

They all slipped their garrison caps off once they were under the fluorescent lights of the building, and the classroom door was in sight after a short walk.

“Alright,” Viper sighed, gaze running across all of them, a smile reminiscent of his callsign on his face, “time to school another batch of hotshots.

Let’s begin.”

The two wingmen exchanged a little grin, before squaring their shoulders and following Jester inside as Viper trailed behind.

“ATTENTION!!” Jester barked, striding to the front, Tom and Mav moving to the right side of the classroom, opposite the TV, following the order like everyone else in the room.

“At ease.”

At this, they all moved to parade rest, Tom and Mav having the luxury of clasping their hands before them, while Jester picked up a clipboard. “I will be calling out the driver and RIO teams.

After I call both your names, make yourselves known.

Lieutenant Solomon Bates, callsign “Warlock”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Kenneth Han, callsign “Shogun”.”

“Present, sir!” an Asian man about Tom’s height, and a tall African-American man enthusiastically chorused.

“Lieutenant Stephen Ruth, callsign “Babe”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Timothy Martin, callsign “Priest”.”

“Here, sir!”

“Lieutenant Edward Arellano, callsign “Belter”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Gabriel Presleigh, callsign “Elvis”.”

“Yes, sir!”

Lieutenant Henry Baker, callsign “Snackbar”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Matthias Novak, callsign “Links”.”

“Sir!”

“Lieutenant Julian Howell, callsign “Ash”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Randall Simmons, callsign “Igor”.”

“Up and ready, sir!”

The pilot, Howell, it was plain to see, had an arrogant, smug look on his face, almost like he felt it was inevitable he’d be at TOPGUN, and Tom sent Mav a sideways glance, which the other man returned.

Any hop with that particular pair was going to be interesting, and it was clear from the look on his wingman’s face, that his immediate dislike of the pilot was shared by Mav.

Tom looked forward to him and Mav educating Howell as to who were the best pilots, in the final hops.

“And finally, Lieutenant __ __, callsign “Thorn”, and Lieutenant Junior Grade Emmett Kinford, callsign “Romeo.””

“Yes, sir!” came a resonant alto and an even, low baritone, the call jarring insofar as it was to hear a woman’s voice mixed with that of a man’s in this room, heretofore the demesne of men.

Both had even expressions on their faces, pilot and RIO gazing straight ahead, while the OCD part of Tom’s mind registered that their khakis were in better form than even his own, ribbons not the slightest bit out of place, with creases you could cut yourself on, and that was saying something.

Her hair was carefully pulled into the regulation tight bun, not a single strand out of place, and her RIO’s dark waves were also the picture of military perfection.

“You may be seated.” Jester said after a beat, casting his gaze shrewdly around the room. “I am Commander Rick Heatherly—callsign Jester.

I am the Executive Officer of Fighter Weapons School, known to all naval aviators as TOPGUN, and your Lead Opposing.

Each one of you have been selected for a very specific reason; to become the best of the best’s best.

Blinds.”

The room went dark as the blinds were shut, and the familiar video began playing, the familiar speech being recited.

Soon, Jester finished his speech, calling for the blinds to be opened.

Light flooded into the room, and Tom fought to look dignified, not squinty, even as the sun assaulted his eyes.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to your Junior Instructors, and this school’s Secondary Opposing; Lieutenant Tom Kazansky, callsign “Iceman”, and Lieutenant Pete Mitchell, callsign “Maverick”, last year’s Top Gun, and second place finisher respectively—”

Both he and Mav somehow straightened further, nodding professionally at their class.

“—and finally, our Commanding Officer here at TOPGUN, the very first man to win the Top Gun Trophy; and there is not a finer naval aviator in the world.

Captain Mike Metcalf—callsign “Viper”.”

Viper strode in and told the first class of ‘87 much the same things he did the flyboys of ‘86, and they all turned to get a good look at the Top Gun Trophy, whose newest brass plaque bore the engraving “LT T. Kazansky & LTJG R. Kerner — 1986”.

“You think your names are going to be up there?” Viper gazed speculatively at the class.

However, this time, no one filled the silence with an affirmative response—unlike Mav the year before—though Ash and Igor had hungry and yet self-assured looks in their eyes.

“Well, regardless of whose name ends up in brass at the end of these five weeks, at the end of the day, you—we—are all on the same team.

Gentlemen—and lady,” Viper nodded towards Thorn, “this school is about combat—there are no points for second place.

Dismissed.”

“Report to the quartermaster for your housing assignments, you’ll have today to get settled.” Jester called out to the room at large, “and remember, tomorrow’s first class starts at 0800.”

Most of the class quickly shuffled out of the room, but not before a few of them shot Thorn and Romeo, both of whom were still seated, skeptical—and in Ash and Igor’s case, outright dirty—looks, looks which she ignored, though one would have to be blind not to notice the protective menace emanating from her RIO despite the similar expression of indifference on his features.

But once her classmates had filed out, Thorn looked towards him and Mav, her indifference giving way to a radiant smile.

“Mav,” she exclaimed, striding over.

“Acey!” his wingman laughed, pulling her into a hug, briefly lifting her a slight distance off the floor.

“Fuck, it’s good to see you!”

“You too—it’s been too long.”

“Yeah—” here her expression sobered, “and I’m so sorry—I heard about Nick—Ro and I couldn’t believe it.”

“Nick was a great guy, it was such a shock—damn canopy of all things,” Romeo said, having walked over to give Mav a warm pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” Mav breathed evenly, a bit too evenly for Tom’s liking. “Oh, uh, Thorn, Romeo, this is my f-friend and wingman, Tom Kazansky.”

All too glad to take the spotlight to give Mav time to breathe, he stepped forward, extending his hand. “You can call me Ice, it’s good to meet you.

Mav’s told me about you, Thorn.”

“Oh?

Only good things, I hope,” she said, shaking his hand.

Her hand had the same callouses he and most fighter pilots had—which gave him a bit of cognitive dissonance, because he was used to only feeling those callouses on other men—with a strong grip, and a confident posture as she looked up at him.

“Practically praised you to the stars and back,” he smiled, letting go of her hand.

“Hello, I’m chopped liver,” Romeo wryly stated as he shook Tom’s hand. “Call me Ro.”

“You’re hardly chopped liver, Ro, you’re the sixth best RIO I know,” Mav interjected, his voice and breathing seeming more like baseline.

“Thank you, I guess?” Romeo frowned.

Thorn broke in, “I gotta admit, for a second, I was kind of worried that you’d suddenly become too good for the likes of me and Ro, Mr. TOPGUN-Instructor and Three-Confirmed-Kills, I swear, Mav, that was the stillest I’ve ever seen you.”

The aforementioned man shrugged. “That’s Ice’s influence.

Got to stand still so you hotshots have a chance to admire us.”

Thorn huffed a light-hearted laugh, but Mav continued, “And I only got those kills thanks to this guy.

I had to lead some of the MiGs away so that he could have one all to himself,” Mav beamed, waggling his eyebrows.

Thorn blinked, “Oh yeah, you’ve got one too.”

Before he could reply, Mav proudly cut in, “Yes, he does—and this guy held out against five MiGs.”

“Sli and I’d have burned in if you didn’t get there in time, Mav,” Tom said, determined that his wingman would get the praise he deserved.

Said wingman turned, eyes narrowed hopefully. “Is this you admitting I’m the better pilot?”

He scoffed lightly, “Any pilot would have trouble against five adversaries, the best or not.”

“I’ll get you to admit it one day,” the diminutive pilot muttered.

Tom clapped Mav on the shoulder. “Today is not that day, buddy.”

Another huffed laugh had the two wingmen remembering that their students were still in the room.

Romeo was shaking his head in the way of those who have fondly dealt with the inimitable Pete Mitchell, and Thorn had a small smile on her face, but it was no less bright than the one she had when she greeted Mav. “You look good, Mav.”

“Uhh… thanks?

But I always do.”

Thorn scoffed, and Romeo rolled his eyes so hard, Tom was surprised the RIO didn’t pull something.

She turned to him, a look in her eyes that spoke as if he had passed some test he didn’t know about, turning the tables on him, her instructor, and they weren’t even in the air yet. “You keep taking care of this Firebird for me, huh?”

Something about receiving her unsought approval shot a bolt of feeling through him, searing through his being, like standing in the middle of a lightning storm. “Of course.”

“Good,” she breathed, her small smile turning to a grin. “I guess—I guess Ro and I better go, because I’m sure our classmates got the good housing already.”

“We’ll accompany you to your housing, once you get your assignment—the uh—” he cleared his throat and sniffed, “the housing here is laid out pretty weird.”

Tom could feel Mav’s gaze snap to him at a practically supersonic speed, but he ignored it, in favor of shooting Thorn a charming, if not slightly awkward, smile.

Her head tilted at a slight angle, keen gaze analyzing him like he was some sort of problem she couldn’t quite solve. “If that’s what you want to do with your time, sure thing, sir.”

His brain shut down on him for a split second, for some odd reason, but he managed to evenly reply, “We’re the same rank.”

“That shiny Junior Instructor title of yours begs to differ, but whatever you say… sir.”

A nudge at his side snapped him out of whatever strange fugue his brain was trying to drag him into.

He’d have to get more sleep, he figured.

“What’d I tell you, Ice?

Sometimes I wonder if Acey here should have been the Firebird instead of me—because I’m well on my way to becoming an ace, as you all know,” Mav declared.

“Imagine being deployed with this for months,” Thorn sighed, but with a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

“Imagine agreeing to get stationed with him, and being his wingman,” Tom reparteed.

“Oh, I can,” she nodded knowingly. “I have stories, by the way.”

“Oh?

Do tell,” he grinned, playfully ignoring the groan from his wingman.

She blinked, her expression frozen for a split second, before she gestured to the aisle, “Mind if we walk and talk?”

“At your leave, Lieutenant.”

She shook her head slightly, but strode onwards, their strides matching in less than half a beat. “So there was this one incident with some shaving cream…”

When the four of them arrived at the quartermaster, as Thorn predicted, her and Romeo’s classmates were long gone.

“Hello, shitty housing,” she muttered, as she and Romeo approached the quartermaster, while he and Mav stood a ways behind.

“You’re being weird.”

“What?” Tom turned to see Mav staring at him like he was an F-14 requiring diagnostics and a shit-ton of maintenance.

“I said you’re being weird—”

“Yeah,” he slowly began, “I heard you the first time, Mav, what do you mean?”

“You—you’re being… nice,” was the other aviator’s perplexed reply, accompanied by an equally consterned gesture.

It was his turn to stare. “I am nice.”

“Uh-huh, but you’re not usually this—this, to people you don’t know.

Who are you, and what have you done to my wingman?”

If Tom were to be honest, he himself knew that he wasn’t exactly acting in character, but there was just something that tugged him to… be warmer towards Thorn and Romeo.

He put it down to wanting to repay the TOPGUN students for being kind to his brother, when not many others were.

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine, Mav,” he said, sounding somewhat lame to even his own ears, truthful as it was.

“Okay, sure,” the other man nodded, in an extremely distrustful tone.

“Got it!” Thorn declared, she and Romeo marching up. “Let’s see what Government Issued shanty we’ll be put up in, shall we?

Looks like we’re at… 315 Vraciu.”

Tom spoke up. “That’s not bad, I think; a couple of our classmates last year were put up in that same housing—Charles Piper and Marcus Williams—and I don’t think they had any problems.”

Romeo clicked his tongue, “Well, that’s a first—less-than half-decent housing’s usually par for the course for me and Thorn.

This’ll be a refreshing change.”

Tom would never understand why good pilots were blamed for things they couldn’t change, Mav for his father’s “betrayal” and his own unconventional flying style, and Thorn for her gender, through relentless hazing and/or poor treatment.

If he ever rose high enough to change things, he swore he would.

The housing was a basic, cookie cutter home a little over a five minute drive from the main TOPGUN building, and on the way there, Thorn and Mav were seated in the back of Tom’s truck, catching up, while Romeo sat shotgun.

Glancing in the rearview mirror, Tom saw that both pilots were animatedly discussing things that had happened since the last time they saw each other, including the infamous inverted-over-a-MiG situation.

“Are they always like this?” he said in sotto voce to the RIO beside him.

Romeo flicked his dark gaze to the backseat, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah.

It’s nice to see her happy.

Not a lot of people think much of her, since she’s a woman, you know.

But Mav, he and Goose, they never saw that, they just saw a good pilot, and I’m grateful.

They were the only ones who wanted to fly with us.”

Tom frowned in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

If Mav was singing her praises, she must be a phenomenon in the sky—who wouldn’t want to be part of that?

“Nope.

They were the only ones who volunteered, so they kind of got stuck with us that whole deployment.”

At this point, they arrived at 315 Vraciu, and they all hopped out, the two students carrying their seabags to the door.

Thorn unlocked the door, she and Romeo tossing their bags in the entrance. “Well, thanks for the ride,” she nodded, Romeo doing likewise behind her.

“No problem, my pleasure,” Tom replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

“I’ll see you both around, I guess.”

He imagined that her eyes lingered longer on him than they did on Mav, and… he didn’t exactly know how he felt about that.

Mav threw off a nonchalant salute while he sent a respectful nod, before they moved to go back to his truck.

They were halfway there when they heard, “Hey Mav!”

The two of them halted, turning to see the fire of challenge in Thorn’s brilliant eyes. “You gonna take it easy on me?”

Mav scoffed, “You think I’m an idiot?”

She carefully maintained a blank look, and Mav flipped her off with a grin.

Her expression sharpened, gaze landing on him, callsign all too accurate, as the edge of defiance in her voice rang through the air. “And how about you—are you going to take it easy on me?”

He had to admire her for that already.

“If you’re as good as Mav says, that’d be a damn injustice.”

Her answering smile was dagger-keen. “Looking forward to seeing you up there, then.”

Something in him thrilled to the thought of having another worthy opponent in the sky. “It’ll be a highlight of my day, I’m sure.”

“We’ll see.”

Though not unkindly, the door shut in their faces soon after.

Tom stared at the door a moment longer, before again turning to see Mav frowning.

“You’re really being weird.”

“…Shut up, Mav.”

“Alright boys—just to remind you, we have the classes in the morning, and we’re going up in the afternoon.

For the first hop, it’s going to be Jester against Thorn and Romeo, Mitchell against Warlock and Shogun, then Ash and Igor.”

An unexpected wave of disappointment washed over Tom as he realized Viper’s hop arrangement meant he wouldn’t get to fly against Thorn the first day, but he managed to keep most of the expression off his face, especially with Mav treating him like a problem to solve the whole rest of last night.

Indeed, the shorter man was and had been surreptitiously studying him.

“Which leaves me with Belter and Elvis, and you, Kazansky, with Snackbar and Links, then Babe and Priest, for the second hop.”

Just a banner day for Thomas Kazansky, wasn’t it?

Couldn’t fly against Thorn, and didn’t even get to school Ash and Igor.

“Everyone understand?”

A chorus of “Yes, sir!”s rang through the room, and Viper nodded, pleased.

“Dismissed, then.

To your classes, gentlemen.”

Viper knocked a fist against the table twice before he and Jester departed the briefing room.

Tom gathered his folders and looked at his wingman, who was neatening a very short stack of papers. “I was hoping to have first crack at Ash and Igor,” he muttered.

“I know,” Mav smirked.

Resigned, he sighed, “Well, kick their ass extra hard for me, will ya?”

The smaller man’s smirk took on a devilish quality. “I’ll draw first blood, then you wipe the floor with them, and us together, it’ll be game over,” he stated, as he extended a fist.

“Sounds like a plan,” Tom nodded, sealing the agreement with a fist bump.

As he bent to pick up his attaché case, Tom’s eyes were again drawn to the minuscule stack of papers the other man had. “You got the material for your class today, right?”

“Uhhh, yeah, sort of,” Mav shrugged.

“‘Sort of’.

What exactly do ‘sort of’ class materials look like?”

Mav spread his hands, and he knew. “In all honesty, I was gonna just kind of wing it.”

Tom honestly should have seen it coming—but Maverick mavericking was what made Maverick, Maverick.

“Okay,” he replied, trying to hide his grin. “Sounds good.

Good—good, good.”

He managed to hold his laughter in until he reached the hall, but even then, an “Up yours, Ice!” followed him around the corner.

Tom’s class went smoothly, and after a lunch that he eagerly finished, he eventually found himself in his flight gear, fidgeting in the instructor’s ready room.

Having completed his preflight, he decided to chalk his restlessness down to the novelty of flying an A-4, a single-seater, with no Slider in his ear or backseat, as he listened intently to the comms for the first hop, Viper doing the same across the room.

Mav and Jester engaged Warlock and Shogun, and Thorn and Romeo, respectively, once the Commander called “Fight’s on!”, and Mav made short work of Warlock and Shogun, getting tone on the other pilot and RIO in a little over two minutes.

Commendable, in his opinion, for their students.

Mav called for them to knock it off and return to base, before moving on to Ash and Igor.

It was then that he realized that Jester was still engaged with Thorn and Romeo.

Romeo was evenly calling out altitudes, positions, and break directions, while Thorn composedly called maneuvers out, interrupted only by the sound of the two aviators g-straining, the F-14’s engines in the background.

He briefly turned his attention to Mav, who had engaged Ash and Igor; the two were, as he predicted, scrambling wildly for their “lives” (and based on what he was hearing, would get tone locked in a matter of seconds), in radical contrast to Thorn, who was calmly holding her own.

In his head, he could see a vague picture of what was going on up there with Jester, Thorn, and Romeo, and Tom realized that he wasn’t sure how it was going to end, the sound of Mav getting tone on Ash and Igor fading into the background.

Tom could hear the strain in Thorn and Romeo’s voices as they fought more g-forces while calling movement and other things out—they had to be at or near corner speed to make them sound like that.

Tom could hear the faint, steady beeping which warned of imminent tone lock, and he hoped she would win this, if only to prove his wingman’s faith in her skill correct.

Just as the beeping grew faster, Thorn muttered, “Just a little… come on, come on…”

He leaned forward in his seat, and realized he was holding his breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to inhale.

Then suddenly, the blare of confirmed tone.

Disappointment for her sake sank in his stomach, but only for the briefest moment, because the voice which triumphantly called out “Good lock!” was distinctly female. “That’s a kill, Commander!”

And Tom could breathe again.

Holy shit, Mav was right—she was a hell of a pilot.

Thorn managed to keep too much of the gloating out of her tone, but it was a fairly narrow thing, and in his opinion, it was justified.

A faint sound caught his attention—if he didn’t know any better, Tom could have sworn that that was a… fond chuckle that came from Jester.

“Copy kill.

Well, knock it off, Lieutenant, and RTB.”

“Yes, sir!”

Without really thinking about it, he went to the flight line, in time to see the three F-14s and two A-4s land.

His eyes were drawn to her jet as she pulled in to the flight line, and he was faintly aware of Mav’s A-4 pulling up beside his.

She’d done the impossible; Thorn, a female naval aviator, got chosen for TOPGUN, and got tone on her instructor the first day.

Technically, that wasn’t anything new—Mav had done similar—but in a sense, it was.

Women were just starting to be seen as capable of being in the military, in combat roles, to be exact, and to see a woman do something that had been the domain of men for decades, centuries, and do it just as well as a man—better even; as evidenced by the fact that in her hop, she was the only one to get tone on her instructor…

He really had to admire that—admire her.

“That good enough of an ass kicking for ya, Ice?”

Tom was snapped out of his introspection from the sudden appearance of his wingman at his side, running a hand through his hair, helmet under his arm.

“What?”

Mav grinned, “I got tone on Ash and Igor in roughly a minute or so.

How the fuck those two got picked for TOPGUN eludes me.”

Tom scoffed and shook his head in agreement. “Bet I can get tone on them faster, though.”

Mav slapped him on the shoulder, “We’ll see, Ice.”

A sudden whoop of jubilant laughter drew his gaze, and he could see Thorn about thirty paces away, coming ever closer, and his breath caught in his throat—her mouth was split in a beaming smile, wild and passionate, illuminating her from within with effervescent joy, her shining eyes endlessly reflecting her exhilaration.

Her bun was coming slightly loose, tendrils of hair framing her face and swaying in the breeze, while her flight suit clung to her figure, helmet dangling insouciantly from her fingers; it was decorated with a briar all over, red roses among thorns made of black aces, and it had her callsign across its brow.

Her eyes landed on him, and her smile took on a mischievous quality. “We got Jester, nailed him on the first day.

You gonna be ready for us?” Then, as if she only noticed Mav next to him at that moment, she amended, “Both of you?”

He grinned, just shy of showing too many teeth, nonchalantly stepping closer, shifting his weight to lean towards her, hip slightly cocked to keep his balance, barely paying any mind to the tension in Romeo’s stance behind his pilot. “We’ll see who gets tone on whom first.”

Thorn smirked as she looked him up and down, teeth tugging her bottom lip for the briefest moment before she clicked her tongue, “Good thing I’ve got front row seats for that show, then.” She pivoted on her heel, walking backwards as she sent him a casual salute, before turning to stride back to the locker room, Romeo following her with a minutely narrowed glance over his shoulder at him.

“Huh.”

He turned from watching the pilot and RIO, to see Mav again at his side, glancing back and forth between him and Thorn and Romeo.

Tom frowned, “What ‘huh’?”

“Nothing, nothing,” came the too-quick answer. “Just huh.”

“…Now who’s being weird?”

Tom’s hop with Viper was not quite as interesting as Mav with Jester’s, though he did have to commend all three pilots for holding out for a few minutes, which was more than Ash and Igor could say.

The debrief was a thing of beauty—going in reverse order from lowest to highest hop score, meant that he got to witness Mav positively eviscerate Ash and Igor as the first order of business, and the sheer stupidity that Ash displayed in the air, made Tom wonder what guardian angel or deity sent this idiot to TOPGUN.

He mentally saw a dozen different maneuvers that Ash could have done, that, while they might not have gotten him tone on Mav, they would have helped him last longer against the other pilot.

The debrief drew on, Tom stepping forward when it was his turn, not sparing the other pilots their vivisections, though theirs were not quite as harsh, by sheer dint of them not being as idiotic as Ash and Igor, and finally, it was the debrief he was waiting for; Thorn and Romeo’s.

He had an idea of what happened in the air, but he wanted to know what exactly she had done.

It was textbook and yet genius.

He was right; once they hit the merge, flying at corner speed through a series of turns, Thorn had maneuvered to force Jester to increase his turn rate, bleeding his airspeed, playing the Skyhawk’s weakness against it, before before placing him in her sights.

“…all in all, great work, Lieutenant,” Jester complimented, writing her hop score of 5 on the board, the highest number of all the teams that day, sending her a nod.

Her face was impassive as she replied, “Thank you, sir,” but Tom could see the vindication in her eyes.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve all learned something from your classes and most especially, your hops today,” Viper declared, pacing the front of the classroom. “This is only the first day, and to borrow a saying from our SEAL cousins, ‘The only easy day was yesterday’.”

The Captain stared the students down, pair by pair, searching for something in each of them.

Finally, he stated, “You’re all dismissed.”

After Jester and Viper left, leaving him and Mav, as the junior instructors, to neaten things, Ash and Igor were predictably the first out the door—just shy of storming out, while most of the others looked at Thorn with less suspicion than the day before, a few actually lingering.

While he was fixing the markers, out of the corner of his eye, Tom saw Warlock step forward first, a light smile on his face. “Hey, uh, that was great, what you pulled today—I’m Solomon, but you can call me Sol or Warlock, whichever you prefer.

This is my RIO, Ken, but he prefers Shogun.”

The Asian man genially lifted a hand in greeting, “Really wish I could have seen that.”

Babe chuckled, “Yeah, that was good, wish I’d have thought of what you did, maybe I’d have had a chance against Kazansky—I’m Stephen.”

Priest, his RIO, cooed, “Aw, you embarrassed by your callsign, Babe?”

“Shut up, Tim,” Babe glared.

Priest raised both hands in surrender. “Not my fault your last name’s Ruth—I’m this stick in the mud’s RIO, Tim—call me Priest, that there’s Belter and Elvis.”

Tom almost laughed at the expression Thorn made; the momentary shock on her face was palpable, but it was swiftly concealed—the only reason it registered for him was because he was so used to reading Mav’s microexpressions.

“Thanks—nice to meet you all.

I’m Thorn, this’ Romeo, my RIO.”

Romeo shook hands with them all, a pleasant, but guarded expression on his face.

“You weren’t too bad up there yourselves, from what I heard,” she continued.

“Yeahhh, but who got tone on their instructor first day?

Not this guy,” Priest waggled his eyebrows, jerking both thumbs at his pilot, “and not any of these guys,” making the others groan or laugh.

Tom ducked his head, hiding his smile; he was glad that the others seemed to be warming up to her, he wanted her to have the same experience as he did at TOPGUN—establishing a brotherhood with his classmates.

“—Tom!”

He pivoted to see Mav snapping his fingers close to his face, and he reflexively flinched back from his wingman’s hand in his face. “What?”

He belatedly realized that he’d been saying that a little too much recently.

As if he were speaking to a particularly dull child, Mav spoke slowly. “Do you think I can erase the board now?”

“Yeah, uh, but not the scores.”

“Of course not.

You okay, Ice?”

“Yeah—fine, it’s just a… long day.”

The suspicion in Mav’s eyes didn’t fade as he sighed and nodded. “Feel up to The O Club tonight?

Maybe decompress a bit, have a drink?”

“That sounds great, actually.” Maybe a drink was what he needed, his mind seemed to be all over the place.

“‘Kay—meet you there?”

“Yeah.”

Once he finished with the room, he followed Mav out, sending a look to where Thorn was still talking with her classmates, to see that her gaze was already on him.

Her eyes immediately went back to her classmates, but nevertheless, he felt branded by her stare, like it was a tangible thing, searing through his veins, sending a paradoxical shiver down his spine.

Deep in the recesses of his mind, he could admit it; he didn’t know what it was, but he felt drawn to her.

To what end… he didn’t know.

And that…

That scared him.

Tom eased his precious Chevelle into a parking spot near the door of The O Club; a rarity, but one very welcomed, given how busy the bar seemed.

(The fact that it was within sight of Mav’s highly recognizable Ninja was a perk—he and Slider had stopped one too many parking lot beatdowns.)

He reached for his Shooters, narrowly stopping himself from putting them on (Mav hated it when he did that at night; “It makes you look like a dick”, according to his wingman), instead tucking them into the pocket of his whites, carefully opening the driver’s door, squeezing himself out of the narrow gap he afforded himself.

The black metal flake paint was pristine, and he intended to keep it that way, it didn’t matter how ridiculous he may look.

The O Club was, as the parking lot showed, busy, full of people in service whites, throwing him back to last year, that first night for the flyboys of ‘86.

He cast his gaze around the bar, peering through the haze of cigarette smoke and the people, searching for his wingman’s squirrelly figure, before a call of “Ice; over here!” pierced through the sound of numerous conversations and the jukebox, before a hand flailed wildly, becoming visible over the heads of the crowd.

Mav had claimed seats at the bar; prime real estate with the place this hectic—he didn’t want to know how the other man had kept the seat next to him free when every Tom (hah), Dick, and Harry were clamoring for a seat at the bar.

He made his way through the crowd, gratefully settling onto the barstool next to Mav, also dressed in his service whites. “Hey Mav,” he greeted.

“Hey; I ordered already, I assumed you’d want your usual vodka on the rocks.”

“Thanks; you know me too well.”

“Kind of hard to miss when it’s literally what you order every single time,” Mav smirked.

Tom rolled his eyes—he was a creature of habit, sue him.

(And if vodka on the rocks reminded him of his Dedushka, what was wrong with that?)

“Seems like all of Fightertown is here tonight,” he muttered to Mav.

“You’re not too far off on that, I saw basically all of our students here,” the other man replied, taking a sip of his beer. “Only ones I haven’t seen are Thorn and Romeo, actually,” he finished casually.

Rather against Tom’s will, something in him lurched forward, his thought process halting, making him feel like he’d just snagged the third wire on the carrier deck.

Despite that, he managed a calm—at least in his opinion—“Oh.”

“Mmm.” Another calm sip of beer from his wingman—too calm.

He narrowed his eyes and sighed at Mav. “What the fuck is that ‘Mmm’ for?”

The dark-haired aviator pulled an expression like he just sucked on a lemon. “What, can’t a guy just ‘Mmm’ anymore?”

“Not when you’ve been fucking weird for the past two days,” he replied, sending the harried bartender a grateful nod as they slid his vodka on the rocks over to him.

“I’m not weird, you’re weird,” was Mav’s reply, and he narrowed his eyes at the muted shimmer of something in the other pilot’s eyes.

He was about to retort when his eyes were drawn to the door, and the bulk of Romeo walked in, his head and whites-clad shoulders peeking above quite a few people’s.

It was mere curiosity, he told himself, that led him to lean to see if his pilot was also with him.

It took a beat, but then, several people in the crowd moved, and he saw her—her hair cascaded down her shoulders, as sharp eyes surveyed The O like it was the skies, dressed, unlike everyone else in the Navy who occupied this space, in civvies; a loose, white blouse tucked into jeans, cinched with a thick brown leather belt at her waist.

And everything seemed to fade into the background, the sight of her drowning out the sound of the bar, and Mav’s howling laughter.

To be continued…

Previous Part Next Part

Faceclaims

Russian glossary

Disclaimer: translations are from the interwebs.

Please don’t kill me.

Dedushka: Grandfather

Two years is the real-life age gap between Tom Cruise and Val Kilmer.

The story behind Ice and Slider’s bad ejection actually did happen to a pilot-RIO pair, then-Commander William Switzer and then-Lieutenant (junior grade) David “Bio” Baranek on December 19, 1981, aboard the very same aircraft carrier that I mentioned.

You can read the detailed description of the incident here, retold by Commander Baranek, for the Ejection Tie Club of the Martin-Baker company, who specialize in making ejection seats—including those of the F-14 Tomcat—for pilots and backseaters who have ejected using a Martin-Baker ejection seat.

VFA-41, the “Black Aces”, based out of NAS Lemoore, were featured in Top Gun: Maverick as the squadron of Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, and I thought that would be nice to include that, in this universe at least, Phoenix is a member of the squadron with the first female naval aviator selected for TOPGUN.

Icy-Hot is a liniment that has been on the market since before 1931.

The name of LTJG Kenneth “Shogun” Han is a reference to this scene in the now-ABC hit series, 9-1-1, where paramedic/firefighter Howard “Chimney” Han, played by actor Kenneth Choi, replies that if he weren’t a paramedic/firefigher, he’d have liked to be a Navy TOPGUN graduate, with the callsign “Shogun”.

The names of Henry “Snackbar” Baker, Stephen “Babe” Ruth, and Timothy “Priest” Martin are a reference to both the original name of Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe—Henry Ruth—and the Martin-Baker company.

The speeches that Jester and Viper give are nearly word for word the same as the speeches that they gave in TG86, with some authorly variation because I didn’t want to rehash the same speeches that we heard in the movie word for word.

Again, VF-1, a now inactive squadron based out of NAS Miramar, is the squadron that Mav and Goose belonged to before they went to TOPGUN, although it must be noted that, like most of the squadron patch designs in Top Gun, the patch design as seen on Mav and Goose’s flight suits, is incorrect and not matching the squadron designation, instead bearing the insignia of VAW-110, the “Firebirds”, who flew the E-2 Hawkeye, which was shown as Comanche in TG:M.

Alexander Vraciu was a WWII Navy ace who downed 12 Japanese aircraft and sank a Japanese merchant ship with a direct hit to her stern.

The merge is a concept used in air combat, where aerial warfighters engage with enemy aircraft by steering their plane toward the adversary—this maneuver is referred to as “going to the merge.”

Corner Speed

Did anyone catch the TG:M line reference?

Special thanks to @valmare for the Ice has a Chevelle headcanon!

Service Whites

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[witchwyfe]

post practice - tik

I pairing: college soccer player! Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x female reader

I précis: watching your bf’s soccer practice!

I content/warnings: college au, college soccer player au, fluff

I word count: 858

I a/n: prob gonna make a mini series for college soccer player ice bc he’s sooo dreamy

You watch as Ice runs drills with his team. To you, it's a wonder that he can focus so well when you're in the stands. You can't even process one paragraph from your textbook when Ice studies with you.

He meets your eye quickly, but not so quick that you don't see his wink, or the light pink that rises on his cheeks. You stand corrected.

You don't normally find yourself in the stands when Ice is practicing. Games, sure, but you didn't want to be the overly obnoxious soccer girlfriend who came to practices--you aren't, all of his teammates like you and even the coaches, who suspect the boys play better when they have an audience, even if it's an audience of one. But Ice's game this weekend is away--too far for you to even justify. So you told him you'd come to one of his practices this week.

He does not force you to come to his games, he doesn't even ask you to. The only game he ever asked you to come to was before you started dating--that was over a year ago and now you try to be a regular at all of his games.

You absentmindedly run your finger on the chain of your necklace, the one that holds your small cube shaped--ice cube shaped-diamond. It was an anniversary gift from your boyfriend, and now an everyday staple to your wardrobe.

Your economics textbook is sprawled out on your lap, but you're not really paying attention like you told Ice you would.

"I don't want to distract you from your schoolwork." He'd said after you informed him you'd be attending his Thursday practice. 

"Okay, you won't." You smile evilly.

"You sure?"

"No."

He throws his head back and groans. "Angel, you shouldn't come then."

"It's fine Ice. I already finished my paper, I just have some econ homework."

He frowns, but doesn't protest when you lean on him to press a kiss to his chin.

And now, as you watch him run around in his uniform practice t-shirt and shorts, you close your textbook and shove it into your tote bag.

For the next hour you watch as Ice and his teammates run around and occasionally stop for water. When they break up and all head for the bench, Ice looks up and meets your eyes, you stand up and grab your tote bag. You make your way down to the fence that separates the field from the stadium, standing over Ice.

A few of his teammates linger, and you smile at them, reaching in your bag for the extra water bottle you brought. Ice frowns when he sucks the last of the water from his Yeti bottle, and you produce the extra.

“C’mere baby,” You coo, leaning down to pop a kiss on his mouth before handing him the water. 

“Thanks angel.” He grins, teeth gleaming, before pulling the bottle to his mouth. 

“Oh look, Iceman’s got his girl here!” One of his teammates, Nick, calls, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Hey Goose!” You call back, brushing hair out of your face. 

“Hey,” He walks up to Ice, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Sorry doll, had I known you were here, I would’ve played better.”

You snort, shaking your head. 

“Stop hitting on my girl, Goose.” Ice says, rolling his eyes.

“Yours for now,” He retorts. Ice’s teammates like to rile him up, and the best way to do it, is be involving you. Nick’s act is just that, an act. You know for a fact that he’s crushing hard on a girl in your friend group—Carole—he’s told you himself.

“Ooh, I don’t think Carole would like to hear that!” You tease, laughing when red paints his cheeks. He mumbles something about having to go, then grabs his stuff. You wait until everyone else has left before hopping over the fence, tossing your tote back to the ground, then sliding down right in front of Ice.

“Jesus baby, you gotta be careful.” He chides, giving you a stern look.

You give him an apologetic smile before sliding your arms around his waist. He can’t help the smile that captures his lips as he looks at you lovingly. 

“You did good today.” 

“Mmh?” He hums. “You a soccer expert now?”

You nod, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair, the perspiration making the usual bright blonde locks, a much darker hue. 

“I should be at this point. With how many games have I sat through with you? Oh and those youtube videos, and old game footage and—“

“Okay!” He cuts you off with an embarrassed laugh, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “You are definitely an expert. And thank you.”

You chuckle and grin up at him. 

“Wanna go get food?” You ask, hooking your arm into his. He nods, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. 

“Then you can help me with the econ homework I didn’t finish.”

You break away from his arm and jog ahead so you can pretend you don’t hear his exasperated groan of your name.

© witchwyfe 2023. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[ddejavvu]

AUATRSHUKDD I <3 YOUR WRITING!!!

could I pls req ice w hurt comfort? like 4 reader?

THANKU

join top gun night!

--

You're not sure anything hurts worse than a paper cut. You think you'd rather get a bullet to the chest than the slit that currently runs up your knuckle, blood oozing out in copious amounts.

"Shit," You breathe, dropping the envelope you'd just torn open. It lands on the table with an unceremonious smack, a bill yet to be paid laying inside.

At first, Tom thinks you're just upset about the price. You'd run up the A/C more than usual this month, but it's nothing you can't handle, which is why he's especially worried when you scurry off to the bathroom.

"Babe?" He calls after you, newspaper in hand. When you don't answer and he hears the rattling of metal inside the medicine cabinet, he tosses the paper aside, steps quick on the path to the bathroom.

He finds you hunched over the sink, water running red as it flows off of your hand. His eyes widen and he rushes for a band-aid, seeing an open one on the counter.

He peels off the wax strips over the stickers, "What happened?"

"Papercut," You rasp, voice thick with displeasure as the cut burns your nerves, "And I thought the triple digits were gonna be the worst thing about that bill."

He lets out a chuckle, if only to make you feel better about the searing pain in your hand. In reality the situation is far-from-funny, and his fingers shake as he holds the bandage ready for you.

"Dry it off," He instructs, handing you the towel. His face is pinched into a slight frown and he watches you intently as you press the towel to your finger, eyes locked on the line of red that immediately reappears when the towel is gone.

"Hurry," You urge as he wraps your cut, conscious of how tight he curls the bandage around your finger. He makes sure it doesn't turn colors, but the band-aid does as your blood seeps right through the pad and trickles down your finger again.

"Damn," You breathe, but Tom beats you to the towel. He holds pressure to your wound, finally glancing up at your face when he has a secure hold on your finger.

His eyes rove your features, locking onto your own and noticing unshed tears lining them. He clicks his tongue off of the roof of his mouth, reaching up with his free hand to brush his knuckle against your waterline.

"I'm sorry, honey." He murmurs, voice soft and sweet. It's heart-warming to hear such a sappy tone from Tom, though it's not like he's ever directed anything particularly brash at you. He pulls your hand up by the grip he's got on your finger, aiming your knuckles at his face and puckering his lips to press a kiss to the peaks.

It's comforting, and diverts your attention from the pain in your finger. His grip is firm but gentle, and the dull ache left behind by the papercut ebbs away as he replaces it with butterflies in your stomach. His lips are soft, because you've told him that if they ever get too chapped, you won't kiss him. He gets teased for applying chapstick in the locker rooms but you remind him Maverick doesn't even have a girlfriend to kiss, so he shouldn't rely too heavily on the man's opinions.

As fantastic as they feel on your hand, they feel even better on your own lips. He steps closer to you in the cramped bathroom, tile biting into his bare feet with a cold chill that runs through his veins. The soft press of your lips against his restores the warmth, though, and his hand on your waist provides you with the same comfort. It's a soft, sweet, sappy kiss, and your eyes drift shut with serenity.

It's moments like this that remind you you want to marry Tom. And you will, if the little box in his dresser you'd stumbled upon only days prior meant anything. Something giddy pushes at your chest, expanding your heart until it's bursting out of your chest. It prompts you to flutter your eyes open, and a soft puff of air from your nose makes Tom do the same.

He smiles at you, close-lipped and dreamy. You peck his grin once more for good measure, and only then realize that he's still holding your papercut.

You pry the towel off of your hand, peeling the old, soiled bandage off and tossing it into the garbage. You glance down at your now-clotted cut, no longer spouting fresh blood, only caked in dried rust-colored stains.

"You cured me," You laugh softly, an exhale from your dewy lips, "If this pilot thing doesn't work out, you should be a doctor on base."

"I can't go around kissing all of my patients," He reasons with a smile, unwrapping another bandage, "Besides, I think that means I'd have to see Goose about twelve more times a day than I do now."

"You like Goose," You remind him, fondness in your chest for the jovial man, "You wouldn't mind."

"I would if I had to kiss him," Tom sticks the new bandage on with a proud pat to the seam, "Too much mustache for my taste."

[rose-pearls]

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell - Masterlist

Hi! Welcome to my Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell Masterlist, there are other Top Gun characters that I write for and that you can find right here - Requests are open

If you want to have a look at other fandoms I write for it is on my Main Masterlist

Oneshots:

She needs some lovin'

A night at the bar makes you meet two different pilots, Maverick and Iceman

Through the seasons

Your relation with Maverick through the seasons.

Prohibited kisses

As Ice's sister you are definitely not supposed to be making out with Maverick, but you can't help it

Soft moment together - Smut & Fluff

Request: Hi! Can I get some soft fluffy smut with Maverick from Top Gun?

Back to Iceman - Part 2

He should've never let Tom walk away but in the end he did, it only takes him ten years to realise he can't live without him (IceMav)

Absent

Request: I wanted to ask if maybe you could do a work based off of the complicated relationship between Maverick and Fire (could be a different reader character (father!Maverick)

Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye

5 times Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky thought he would lose Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell + the one-time Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell lost Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky (icemav)

Little Kazansky - Stories

Request: Hey Darling! Idk if you accept cannon ideas but I have a few and you’re my only top gun mutual I talk to 🩵 it’s a mix of icemav and lil Kazansky :))

Prompts:

Did you at least think of me when you were with her?

Series:

The making of Captain Kazansky-Mitchell

!Father! Maverick: As Iceman & Maverick's daughter you had always been ready to enlist, until you heard a conversation between your fathers stopping you in your tracks for a moment. But if there is one thing you are, it's stubborn.

[whichcouldmeannothing]

minnie's Very Good icemav fic rec list!

icemav is such a massive ship but its hard to find fics for it :((

so here are some i liked :))

(this list isnt definitive i have not read a lot, i know there are good ones I missed pls tell me If u have any good recs!!)

fics by @boasamishipper

when i see your face (oneshot, 1k+)

In which Maverick Mitchell wakes up from surgery, high on painkillers, and hits on his husband.

sweet! very cute! maverick rly is a dumb dumb boy

Word on the Street (oneshot, 1k+)

Sharon looks down at her wedding ring and says a prayer for the handsome Navy pilot that’s heading their way. He’s got no idea what he’s in for. / Or, Iceman and Maverick versus the Real Housewives of Fallon, Nevada.

look i also know nth about housewives but this is adorable and hilarious and sometimes we need an outsider pov, est relationship btw!

baby, baby i'd get down on my knees for you (co-written with @academicgangster or simplecoffee on ao3, multi-chapter, 18k)

Or, the Wooing of Iceman Kazansky by a Very Smol Mr. Darcy

(Five times Maverick proposed to Iceman, and one time Iceman accepted.)

OH M,YGOD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THIS FIC MAKES ME LOSE MY MIND AN DIE AND CRY AND ITS SO SWEET AND ADORABLE AND I MISS THEM SM HGBGKLDS

between the lines of fear and blame (oneshot, 1k+)

Out of all the things Maverick had expected to eventually kill him — getting caught in someone’s jetwash, being shot out of the sky, his plane’s engine exploding — getting shot by one of his students in a civilian bar didn’t even make the top ten.

He never expected Ice to take a bullet for him, either.

There's a first time for everything.

extreme whump extreme, most icemav fics hurt mav and i think mav deserves a little better. just a little. this is good also

fics by @susiecarter

and gamble for the sun (one-shot, 1k+)

It's like this: Maverick and the Iceman make bets, sometimes.

OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD THE TENSION THE IDIOTS IDIOT OT LIKE 3K ITSLOVELY AND SO SO GOOD PERFECT TENSION AND EVERYTHING (in my notes I wrote that they write rly good summaries I just wanted to tell you that)

A Shared Cup (one-shot, 7k+)

It was only a training exercise.

It was only supposed to be a training exercise.

hard 2 exp but its a soulbond au and I LOVE THOSE I LOVE THOSE I LOVE THOSE READ THIS NOW AND GO INSANE W ME

fics by @compacflt

this isnt like a thing about the fics but on ao3, the profile says commander of the pacific fleet (wouldn't that be hilarious if the actual compacflt were on ao3? national security hazard) and that's possibly the funniest thing I've read today

Easier Said Than Done (100k+, series)

"So you just wanna be the best at everything, huh?"

"Yes," Kazansky says seriously, then, confused, squints at him. "Don't you?"

"Of course not," Maverick says. "I just wanna be the bestpilot."

"Huh," says Kazansky, wondering if there's a difference betweenMaverickandMitchell. "Maybe you shoulda stayed at TOPGUN, then."

(Or: Tom Kazansky rises through the ranks while trying to stay a good man. If he ever was one to begin with.) (When We Get Around To Talking About It, 65k+)

"We can start here, I guess. If we're talking about us," Pete says. "Nineteen-eighty-six. The first thing I thought, when I saw you in that O-club, was: Iceman isoff-limits.Capital O, capital L."

Despite himself, despite the fear, Tom laughs a little. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"Well, first off, we were competition. And yeah, you were attractive, but then you opened your mouth and I swear. You were just an asshole. Goose is trying to introduce you to me and here I am thinking about how much of an asshole you are. Shut up about Cougar, asshole."

"It was supposed to be a friendly competition!"

"Yeah, right. So that's what I was thinking: he's attractive, clearly doesn't know how to talk to other men, might be into the proposition if I framed it the right way. But he's an asshole, so this competition is just gonna befriendly." Pete pauses. Then he says, "Ice, you wanna get married?"

And that's how they start talking about it.

(Or: they finally get around to talking about it. And Maverick's got a couple extra memories.) (Debriefing (& Other Stories), 60k+)

look its rly long. but this whole series is wonderful. if ican ever print out one top gun fic to have and to hold irl I would buy more paper and print both of these ones. absolutely lovely and it doesn't feel long its just a good good good time and the classic icemav fic

ALSO HONOURABLE MENTION

Kings of the Air (@fabula-unica, 20k+)

Fighting and fucking: two things he did extraordinarily well. How could he have known what the effect would be when you combined the two?

ABSOLUTE HERITAGE FIC EVERY ICEMAV SHIPPER HAS TO LIVE AND BREATHE THIS FIC OH MY GODDD SO LOVELY SO SO SOS LOVELY read this fic. it has been waiting 12 years for you

ao3 etiquette is in order, if you liked it, leave a kudos and a comment :D I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I did !

[compacflt]

I just finished rereading Slider's oneshot and I loved it just as much as I always do. I was wondering if you had any thoughts on how the conversation between Ice and Cougar went at Ice's retirement ceremony. You gave us little snippets of it from Slider's point of view, but I'd love to hear more of it if you have thoughts on it you'd like to share.

this is such a kind ask. i have no idea

for the same reason there is no explicit reaction in ch 12 when ice first hears mav say i love you—i spent a good week low key trying to figure out whether a reaction was needed there—it’s such a potent powerful cocktail of so many wild & unfamiliar emotions that i don’t personally think i have the literary juice to even attempt to try to describe it

i also am allergic to writing ice or mav explicitly coming out to anyone because it gives me secondhand embarrassment for them. the idea of the commander of the pacific fleet having to psych himself up to awkwardly mumble “um i should’ve told you all this time … i think i…i think im gay” to his friend gives me the ick sorry he’s not fifteen years old. so he Could be doing the big lgbt rite of passage of emotionally apologizing and coming out to Cougar in that conversation. but he Could Also be doing the ‘im nearly sixty years old im not gonna bullshit you’ thing of simply saying: “you and I have been very shitty to each other in the past and i apologize for that in x,y,z way and you were right about me and maverick and we’re gonna make it official this summer and if you want to come we’d really love to have you & normalize diplomatic relations between us again, you’re a real great friend when you’re not being a massive fucking douche”

[t-horn-n]

xii. top gun masterlist

— masterlist navigation.

✦ callsign: breathless. it came to me on a whim.

— tom ‘iceman’ kazansky 

oneshot : 30000 foot butterflies : fluff

iceman reveals a side of him that is only evoked in your presence. 

— masterlist navigation.