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Good Wife

Written by @saltsicklover on Tumblr and @starsrfun on A03 Song Inspiration Good Wife by MIKA Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Content Warnings: Religious Themes, blood, death, loneliness, grief, all hurt no comfort (unless I finally sit down and write part two). Pete has abandonment issues, and daddy issues, and just so many issues. Takes place roughly 1996.

Thanks for being here, and happy reading!

God takes up the same space in Pete “Maverick” Mitchell’s mind as his father does. This isn’t to say that Pete views his father as a God. In fact, Duke Mitchell was the breathing definition of the concept: each generation from Adam and Eve gets further from God’s image. That doesn’t exactly put Pete in the best place as his father’s son. This being true, at least to some, does not negate the fact that God and Duke Mitchell are inexplicably linked in the mind of Pete Mitchell. 

They, Duke Mitchell and God, serve as an altar to place blame at; like a carcass at their feet left to rot and fester. If Pete’s inability to attend the academy was a fresh dead rabbit- fur stained dark with spilled blood as the flesh was splayed open (as if one could see the pain actualizing in the spaces between it’s ribs) then Duke Mitchell’s memory has been cast in bronze, his hard lines turning a weeping teal as he accepts the flayed offering with nothing more than continued servitude. 

Pete’s greatest sacrifice to God himself was his best friend. An offering not given, instead ripped from Pete’s life in a way that still echoes through him– hollow. Over the rippling ocean, alive, to then be consumed by the salt of the waves turning wine dark with blood. The pair stranded in the current, white foam washing over them with nothing left to do but drift. Their Nomex green suits weighed down by the bloody salty mixture of the sea; Pete’s white knuckle grip on the straps of his best friend’s parachute the only thing keeping them together. There was no life left in Nick then. When they were finally raised into the rescue chopper, Nick's limp body went first, turning in the wind as the waves continued to try and take Pete under. This was the first time he was truly and utterly alone. Pete had a realization then and it crashed into him harder than the waves ever could: God likes his offerings bloody too. The salt of the ocean and of his tears were nothing more than a garnish on top of an already perfect atonement.  

Pete continued to sacrifice at their altar for the next ten years. From cutting his instruction at Top Gun short (two months was about fifty days too long for him) to shitty oversea placements as retribution. Small, forgotten islands in the East Sea of Japan became home. Detachments where he shared tiny barracks rooms with other pilots and seamen alike. Those felt lonelier than life on a carrier– at least with the bunk rotations, Pete could convince himself he was sharing a bed with another. The scent of sweat and cologne stuck to the rubber mattresses and it did its best to starve off Maverick’s long-haul feeling of emptiness. God, he was fucking lonely. 

Things got worse when he ended up back stateside. Though he should have been thankful, one slip up of offering his new phone number to his best friend’s widow meant that his old cronies were ringing off the hook. Carol meant well in giving out that number, she really did. She figured Pete to be a lonely man whose sole purpose was to fly for the Navy, and while she hit the nail on the head with that, it didn’t mean Pete took too kindly to the near constant droning of the phone. 

What hurt more was that Tom didn’t call. 

Ron Kerner called regularly, and so did Carol, always wanting the latest gossip about his life, his unit, the base, anything they could get Maverick to divulge to them now that phone calls didn’t cost them a dollar a minute to make.  

Marcus Williams called once too, his voice still holding that tilt that suggested that it was in fact Sundown he was talking to. He let him know of some shit he heard coming down the line from his base in Texas. Though it was true, Marcus used the call to check in on Pete, too. Ending the call, a bit less Sundown and a bit more Marcus, he left Pete with the standard we’ll talk soon though soon never quite comes at the speed they suggest it will. 

That’s the thing with Aviators– they always toe the line between themselves and their call signs like a silly nickname could cover up the fact that they actually care. Pete doesn’t let himself think about when Marcus slipped into the call. 

Ron calls again, and then Bradley, Carol’s son, starts to phone Pete himself. Pete’s answering machine is filled with questions about how to talk to girls and stories about just how hard it is to be thirteen. Pete does his best to return the calls and answer the questions. He loves talking to Bradley and the older he gets, the better Pete has become at ignoring the hollow feeling in his chest when he does. 

He still cries, sometimes. Usually after Bradley has called and asked to hear about his father, again. It’s been like this for years and Pete still has stories the young boy hasn’t heard. One’s he’s saving for when he’s a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more like his dad. At least that’s what he tells himself, instead he might be saving them for days when he himself is a bit stronger, a day where his voice won’t break and crackle across the phone line, a day when Pete can finally think about that day without being overtaken by nausea. 

Those tears come with a choked out sob– Pete may as well be kneeling at the marble base of God’s altar instead of sitting on the cold kitchen tile, his back pressed to the linoleum of the cabinets. 

And still, Tom doesn’t call. 

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if Pete could rip the memory of the Layton Mission from the gray matter of his brain. It’s not so much the battle that gets him, either, that gets to Pete late at night when he’s tucked away beneath his sheets– or when he’s doing preflight checks, or drinking after work, the memory is always there. 

Instead, that memory, the blond man and his shark-snap grin, is almost on constant replay in the back of his mind. That damn death grip of a handshake that led to the pair coming together, their orbits finally close enough to send them colliding into each other. It was all hard pats on the back and smiles so big their cheeks hurt. 

At the time he convinced himself it was just the adrenalin of realizing he was still alive. Still breathing and standing on dry land with his wingman in tow. Then, as they stood toe to toe, embraced in each other's arms as much as their gear would allow all sweat soaked and satiated just by being alive, Pete’s life shifted. It was a small shift, almost imperceivably so. But, he felt it deep within his very being. The memory of Tom’s body heat radiating into him caused a feeling of heat somewhere stuck between his heart and his stomach. In a way, Pete convinced himself it was that same sort of heat, only this time it was his body creating the feeling instead of another. But truth be told, it was all Tom’s doing, even if neither of them realized it. 

In the coming days after, he rode the high of survival, letting it carry him all the way to his new posting with a fever and a confidence that was simply too Maverick to be ignored. Then as the day became more routine, the excitement of life dulling back out to a saturation of normalcy, Pete began to notice the feeling… that feeling where he knew there was something missing, hanging just beyond his reach. His world had shifted again, this time going unnoticed and it left him craving. That knowing heat no longer stuck in his abdomen, now seemingly akin to void. 

It wasn’t the same hollowness that came with the thought of Nick, or the guilt that panged against the walls of that empty space inside himself when Bradley sounded just a bit too much like his father. No, this was different all together. 

That made him cry too; he chalked it up to an attempted expiation, though he wasn’t sure if God or his father were receptive to that sort of thing. His amends on Earth were as completed as grief and time would allow.

These tears were something else entirely. And still, Tom didn’t call. 

It’s not quite like Pete expected Tom to call. After all, they went their separate ways after Layton. Pete turned right back around while Tom turned his gaze forward. But sometimes, in the heat of the jet, or while he flies down the highway, tires squealing in the way his lungs felt the need to, Maverick swore he could feel Tom’s back pressed up against his own. Maybe that’s just how it goes when two become linked in such a way- the trauma bond starving off a war before it starts- to then lead life 180 degrees from one another. Ghosts of memories with the knowledge that they have your six in the same way that you have theirs. Phantoms of a bond that lasts not because you want it to, but because it has to despite it all. 

Pete has never tried to call Tom, either. 

It might be something in the way that they’ve always spent their lives halfway to heaven that makes the fact that Tom Kazansky could be- is- standing rain soaked and unannounced on Pete’s front porch less of an unheard of possibility and more like an answered prayer. The rain itself is not unusual for the season but Tom’s presence is, and the look he wears plastered to his brow in the same way his hair is, is even stranger. 

And in that halfway to heaven part of their lives- both in the way that they spend their time in jets racing towards the bend of the Earth and the sky that might just give way to the heavens if they could reach it, and the way that they knew all too well how quickly a jet could claim a life- that’s where Pete first let him imagine a moment like this. A moment where Tom might step through the front door of his house- of their house- after one of those long and grueling missions. A moment where Pete might be able to wrap his hand gently around the back of Tom’s neck and pull, their lips meeting in the middle. Whispered “thank god your home” and “I’ve missed you” shared between them presses of their lips. The images swirled in his brain, thoughts he knows better than to entertain but they themselves are so sticky sweet with endearment that he can’t help but give into their warm glow. In another life where the world was different or he was someone else. He would’ve been such a good wife. 

But now, Pete is still himself, and Tom is still standing under the cover of his porch dripping water onto his welcome mat.  Tom looks a little thinner, and more worse for wear than Pete’s ever seen him, but fuck he still looks good. His eyes wander over Tom’s body, taking in the way his clothes stick to his skin. Light wash jeans now dark, the thick fabric hugged to his thighs. White t-shirt basically see-thru now, his abs just visible in the amber buzzing of the porch light. The button down shirt framing the thick outline of his shoulders did nothing to help Tom in the rain, but Pete can’t help but let his eyes linger on the curves of muscle Tom has there. 

Tom lets Pete look, his words sitting thick on his tongue. Tom had an entire monologue planned out, from beginning to end, mapped out on his walk over. It was a few miles after all, from base to Pete’s front door. Tom has always been an analytical man, thought out and sure of himself, but all that faded to the background as soon as Pete pulled open his front door. So, Tom lets him look. 

He looks, too. Not that Pete noticed the way his friend’s eyes wandered over his own body. In nothing but jeans, wrinkled and worn, left undone like Pete had pulled them on just to answer the door. They’re zipped but the button hangs open. There’s no waistband hidden underneath, just a line of dark brown hair that leads down his abs and disappears behind the brass teeth of the zipper. 

Tom’s eyes are angled low enough, that in the light of the half dead bulb, he appears to be keeping his eyes strictly to the ground. He’s not, but again, what Pete doesn’t know won’t hurt him. As that thought crosses Tom’s mind again, his stomach twists a little. 

“Ice… What the-”

“Fuck it’s good to see you,”

[loveable1234]

I finally got around to watching Top Gun: Maverick and I cannot stop thinking about wtf could have happened between Rooster and Hangman to make them Like That. Like there's no way Rooster got into Top Gun by playing things as safe as he does in the film (bro was a full minute late on an exercise that was supposed to last three minutes max come on now) so clearly something happened to him after Top Gun that has him spooked. And Hangman is definitely an asshole to everyone but something truly bizarre happens to him whenever Rooster is around in that he says words in an order that have never been spoken by another human being like the guy fully forgets how to be a person the second Rooster walks into the room. Also Rooster's first words to this man after presumably years apart are "You look good" with just so much tension so clearly there's some kind of history there and if the movie refuses to tell me I can only assume they had a rivals to lovers arc during their Top Gun era that ended horribly after a mission went wrong and then they pulled a Parent Trap where Rooster got Phoenix in the divorce and Hangman got Coyote

[loveable1234]

Going insane this is my new favorite thing ever

[loveable1234]

All right. So I rewatched Top Gun: Maverick yesterday and I had some quite angsty realisation that I have to share with all of you. You are welcome.

You remember in TG:M, how Mav tended to speak to himself when flying? Little pep talk such as "Come on Mav", "Let's try not to get fired at the very first day Maverick", "You've got this Mav"?

Well, if memory serves me right, he didn't do that in the first movie.

Why's that?

My take on this is: The person(s) used to exchange the talk, the encouragement, the quip, the endearment with him, poking fun at each other while watching each other's six, are either dead or dying.

"You've got this".

("You've got this, kid." Duke Mitchell smiled to his son.)

"Let's turn and burn."

("Let's turn and burn, Mav!" Goose shouted excitedly behind him in an F-14.)

"Let's try not to get fired at the first day."

("Let's try not to get fired at the very first day as instructors, huh, Maverick?" Ice shook his head with resigned fondness.)

"Come on!"

("Come on Mav!" Goose swung an arm around his shoulder, his voice warm and kind.)

"You've got this".

("I've got you. I've got you, babe." Ice whispered and tightened the embrace while Maverick clutched his lover to his body.)

So he had to say all of those to himself, to pretend that all of them were still with him, to bring all of them all the way across the ocean, the wind, and the sky.

[loveable1234]

I had the goddamned strangest dream which led to a weird story idea but I have no clue if I'll ever get around to writing it:

TimeTravel!AU where post Layton IceMav end up back in time in WWII, and after convincing the US that they're not spies (Ice: I'm a goddamned Polish Jew you think I'd willingly spy for the Axis? Interrogator: That's fair) they convince the Navy to let them fly for them.

It's a little rocky at first, having to get used to much slower aircraft, but once Ice and Mav settle in, they're deadly. Their kill counts quickly soar past Ace to Ace-of-Aces, with whoever is in the top spot swapping dogfight to dogfight.

It takes three years for the Luftwaffe to finally take out the two deadliest pilots to ever fly, sacrificing 20 of their brand new jet fighters to bring them down, losing over half in the process.

Iceman and Maverick wake back up in the future and finally understand why everyone had always compared them to the legendary WWII pilots 'Blizzard' and 'Wild Thing'.

[loveable1234]

Viper’s Mitchell bets

Jester: Mike there is no way little Mitchell will win the Trophy, not with Iceman being here.

Viper: He’s Duke’s boy Rick, don’t underestimate him.

Jester: …It’s because of that stunt he pulled with the MiGs, isn’t it?

Viper: Little shit lost me a bet to his dead father, no way I’m going to watch him lose.

Jester: Duke seriously bet on his son’s style of flying?

Viper: Motherfucker knew his son was just as insane as he was. Christ, makes you wonder where his mother’s education went.

[loveable1234]

something I’ve been thinking about for a while…..iceman and his rise through the ranks! Then I saw this ref (under the cut) which I think…. @calkale reblogged once? And it’s been in my photos since then, just waiting!

hope you guys like this :)) alt version and ref under the cut!

[loveable1234]

I'm... sorry.

This was inspired by a gif of a Screen Test between Paul Newman and James Dean joking around saying "Kiss me", with the other responding "Can't here." They were, however, not envolved romantically, and it was really just a joke. I saw that and thought of these two, and how different their reaction would be.

I can kind of see Mav trying to joke around with the pain to hide it, but Ice isn't the type to do that and for him it just... hurts.

Shout out to @iiceman for (unintentionally) pushing me to finish this piece by recommending the song Hands to Heaven by Breathe! Seriously, go listen to it. It's so Icemav coded.

[loveable1234]

Looking for a Top Gun Fanfiction

Hey, does anyone know the fic where Jake is in the hangar and Mav hugs him and comforts him by rubbing circles on his arm and Jake is asking what is he doing and Mav says seems like putting you to sleep, and Jake says he has to stay awake or else his sleep schedule would get messed up and they fix the plane together and Bradley was there to bring Jake water and check the breakers/electrical wiring of the plane and Mav may or may not said something about Bradley being his father's son and Jake may or may not have come to the hangar to apologize,,,, pretty sure he was invited tho and even double checked the directions to make sure he's in the right place

Please send help this fic is consuming my mind and I need to reread it and I can't find it

Thanks

[loveable1234]

Ice watched as Mav's smile started to get rarer and rarer. How the bounce in his step was replaced by even strides. How Mav's laughs started being replaced by bone-deep sighs. How going out for drinks became a more quiet affair.

One day, Mav just rested his forehead on Ice's shoulder. Ice instinctively wrapping him up in his arms, pulling him close to his chest.

"I'm tired, Ice, I'm so tired," Mav muttered against his collarbone.

Ice didn't know what to say but hold Mav tighter.

Dear god, don't let him be like me.

[loveable1234]

Hangman was always compared to Iceman while at Top Gun. He pulls of stunts with perfect precision. Gets along well with the upper brass. Natural leader during dire situations.

His instructors all agree that he'll go up the ranks.

Hangman, however, he wanted to be more like Maverick.

He wanted to be able to fly outside the box, push himself and the plane to it's limits.

Because when worst comes to worst, technical precision will not be enough. However, creativity? Especially finding creativity within a technical field requires a different kind of mastery.

Maybe if he tried had tried hard enough to develop that kind of mastery his wingman wouldn't have been shot down.

Mission was deemed a success, they concluded that he did not make any mistakes.

("You did everything you could, son," the admiral said setting the briefing papers aside. "Your actions were deemed the best course of events given the circumstances, you made no mistakes given the circumstances."

Only because none of us were able to think of a better alternative.

"Of course, sir." Hangman simply said.

No mistakes given the circumstances isn't enough. And it won't bring a dead man back to life.)

He tried to be better, but in the process made Hangman the name of someone untrustworthy, the name of the executioner.

(It's fine. When it matters, I'll be able to complete the mission and they'll be able to go home.)

---

Hangman wasn't chosen as Dagger 2. Maverick named him spare.

He didn't want to think about the implications of The Maverick not choosing him. Although, he doesn't blame him.

His job was straightforward, fly in fast, and provide air support. Cool. Precise. No mistakes.

Target locked. Fire.

---

He stepped forward to meet Admiral Kazansky.

"You disobeyed orders," the man said looking him up and down.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you regret it?"

"Not when it saved the lives of my team," Hangman said meeting his eyes. "We may all be rivals, but at the end of the day we all want everyone to come back alive."

Admiral Kazansky didn't respond, simply staring at Hangman, and Hangman didn't avert his gaze. The silence stretched until he could hear the static of electricity from the walls.

Admiral Kazansky chuckled as he shook his head, "You're just like Maverick." Kazansky looked the younger man in the eye, "you put your whole heart and soul in your flying."

[loveable1234]

Top Gun AU Idea -- Jake is Mav's son and grew up in foster care.

Jake only has a beat up picture of his dad and that his name was "Pete". He didn't know his mother at all, not even his birth certificate. He was abandoned and whoever abandoned him made sure that his lineage would never be traced.

He figured out who his father was during his first time in Top Gun.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

He also found out that his father was married to the COMPACFLT.

He didn't need a father anymore, right? And he wouldn't want to break up a family in his desperate attempt to maybe gain one. His father probably didn't know he existed. Hell, his father could even be the one that abandoned him (although why he would leave the picture makes that theory unlikely).

However, he did want to meet the one of the Navy's top pilots. It's all professional curiousity.

(He was in the same profession as his father, aviation is in his blood.)

He will become the best.

Maybe he'd meet Maverick once he's on top.

During his first air combat kill, Iceman was the one to shake his hand. The admiral gave him a clap on his shoulder and congratulated him.

The mission occured.

As a person, Maverick was not who he expected him to be.

As a pilot, Maverick was the best.

He was numb when Maverick and Rooster were shot down.

He never felt more alive and scared when he pushed his jet to save them.

He turned and walked away when he saw Rooster and Maverick hug it out, confirming his suspicions during training.

Rooster was Maverick's son, in every way that matters.

Blood doesn't matter, heck there isn't even a blood test that proves that Jake was his son. Only a battered photo with scripted handwriting.

Jake should let go.

After the mission, Dagger squad becomes a permanent squadron with Maverick as team leader.

Maverick got along with every single Dagger just fine, but there was an awkwardness between Hangman and himself that neither knew how to bridge. Mav never did know how to act around people who was just like himself.

Maverick acts paternal and caring to everybody, especially Bradley, and Jake had to swallow the growing jealousy (I don't need him, I don't need him, I don't need--). Why did everyone get a family and a Mav that would look their way for more than 10 seconds?

Why did Rooster get everything he ever wanted?

What did he do or not do that made him deserve this crippling feeling of jealousy and loneliness?

[loveable1234]

Everyone's dying to meet me...

(Destroyer of Worlds, song by Coyote Kid)

Oh, to be Mav still drowning with the ghosts of the people he loves... Still drowning in the guilt that plagues him, making him believe that all of them were his fault....

If requested, I might post my process behind the stylization choices and meaning behind the artistic liberties taken. I took notes, in case anyones interested!

[loveable1234]

Spreading my Vipapa agenda with a sketch sheet of him and little Petey

[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags appreciated]

[loveable1234]

hes not impressed

[loveable1234]

Hi TG Fandom! 

Okay so, I want us to imagine a world where Goose doesn't die, where the good luck that has followed Maverick his entire life is enough to save them both. 

Maverick, who has miraculously survived the craziest things over the years and continues to do so. He was soloing under a lucky star long before Ice became his guardian angel. 

Imagine they go through Ice’s jetwash the same as before and they go into a flat spin, Maverick is pinned down and can't get his hands free, Goose has to eject them, but his fingers are slipping, fumbling before he finally yanks down on the cords. The canopy gets sucked in too close to the body of the jet with the position they're in, it can't clear completely and Goose screams blindly because he knows he’s going to die. 

He knows he's going to collide with the canopy, but instead he feels like he's curled into a person. 

It’s too warm and all he sees is a flash of dark hair and scared green eyes in the chaos. Mav, what? He's horrified that Mav is somehow in his arms, did their chutes get tangled? He doesn't understand. But he fumbles his hand up, grabbing Mav’s tags just in time for the canopy to collide with Mav’s back. Goose screams until he’s suddenly in the water, he's lost time and there's something clutched in his hand. But Mav grabs him, drags him up on his chest. 

“We’re okay, Goose! We’re okay!”

And they are okay. 

They get out completely unscathed and it’s only when they're on deck, shivering like wet rats, that Goose finally opens his hand. It’s a pair of dog tags — kind of. They're old, and barnacles have grown on the metal and stuck both tags together. It doesn't make sense. 

Mav looks at him like he's lost his marbles when he mentions how their chutes tangled up. 

He feels like he's nuts. But when Goose shows the tags to Viper in the base hospital and tells him what happened, the hardened old man seems to crumple before his eyes. 

It’s only then that Goose notices a class ring, an USNA class ring dangling from that crusted chain. There’s no stone, but he would recognize it anywhere. Mav… Mav didn't go to the Academy. 

“Sir?” Goose asks. 

Viper just mutely shows him the tags, the barnacles peeled away to reveal a notch and the words: 

[loveable1234]

What if....

Viper is actually Pete Mitchell's guardian but due to Navy fuckery couldn't take him in and the authorities made sure he couldn't find him or contact him.

Then years later, as a Commander and lead aviator of Top Gun, he meets Maverick and his rio Goose.

Then imagine one day, Viper is out and about and sees the Bradshaw clan, all on a nice day out to the park with Bradley and sees the youngest Bradshaw trip and fall.

His breath catches, waiting for the thump and the tears, but before Bradley can hit the concrete, he's caught by two gentle hands and lifted into strong leather clad arms and cuddled into Mavericks chest.

Viper is stunned. The usually harsh and arrogant aviators face is soft and smiling at the young boy in his arms, and he pays no mind to his RIO heckling him a few paces away about being more of a Mother Goose than Bradshaw himself is. Vipers heart breaks at the next words.

"What's the point of being a godfather if I don't protect and spoil baby goose at little?"