#TOP GUN

[carmenell]

[the-ace-with-spades]

You know what is my biggest fear about potential Top Gun 3?

That they will make Hangman and Phoenix a couple

[military-newsboys]

Mav: ABAB - assigned born at birth. Goose: Assigned baby at birth. Ice: All babies are bastards.

[kcsplace]

Top Gun Silliness

[ragingbookdragon]

One Toke Over The Line

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Angst, Canon Death

Author's Note: So fun fact, at my Aunt's mother's funeral, she actually had One Toke Over The Line playing. Her mother in fact requested it prior to her passing. Enjoy.

**********************************************************************

The rest of the family had said their final goodbyes, and she took a seat next to her father’s bed, gently taking his hand. His eyes cracked open, and she smiled weakly at him. “Hi, daddy,” she whispered, brushing a piece of his hair back from his forehead. His lips moved and she shook her head. “No, daddy, don’t try to talk, okay?”

His throat bobbed, but his lips kept moving. Hi, baby.

A noise, akin to a dying animal, softly escaped her and she felt tears flood her vision.

A cool hand brushed her tears. “No…crying…” he mustered out. “Not…today.”

She tipped her head to the side, looking at him in the bed. Twenty-eight long years. She remembered living in the officer’s quarters with him when he was a single father. Just the two of them for so long. She’d had the call-sign “Ice-Queen” before she’d even entered the Navy. Iceman and Ice-Queen, a dynamic duo, father and daughter, nothing could separate them.

But death had a way of sneaking in.

He lifted his arm, and she crawled into the bed beside him, tucking her head under his chin with her arm tightly wound around his waist, his securely behind her back. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she hiccuped with every breath.

She wasn’t a twenty-eight-year-old lieutenant losing her admiral.

She was a child losing her father.

“I’ve lived…a good life…” he breathed. “Done more…than most…ever will.” His hand brushed her back in a soothing manner. A grief wedged in her chest. Here, her dying father was comforting her. “I’m…okay.”

“I’m not,” she whispered. “I need you, daddy.” Her tears kept blurring her vision. “I’ll always need you.”

His chest rumbled as he struggled for breath. “I’ll…always…be there.”

The lump kept growing in her throat and she bit back a sob.

“I’ll…always…be your…wingman.” She looked up at him and through her tears, she saw the gentle smile on his face; he gently reached up with the other hand and wiped under her eye. “My…beautiful girl.”

She leaned into his touch. “Please don’t leave me, daddy,” she begged brokenly. “I’m…I’m not ready.”

He let out a breath and smiled softly before he dug around in his pocket and pulled something out; he placed it in her and closed his fist around hers. “I am…always…here.”

She didn’t have to uncurl her hand to know what he put in it; the golden crucifix he’d worn his entire life.

“Fly…higher than…I ever…did,” he began. “And know…every flight…I’m there.”

Her throat was too tight to form words, but she nodded and laid her head back down on his chest.

***

She lay there for hours, listening to his breathing until his chest stilled beneath her ear.

***

It was too sunny for the occasion. Too bright in her eyes as the sun reflected the tears. She stood beside her stepmother, silent as the guns rang out over the cemetery. Her gaze was fixed on the coffin, unable to look anywhere but where they were burying the greatest man she’d ever known in the cold ground.

An hour passed and her family had departed, the other airman and sailors had departed, but she stood over the hole in the ground, unable to move her feet from the spot. She stood until they lowered the coffin down and began filling it with dirt.

She stood until the land was flat above him, and then she saluted.

***

He smiled politely as he entered the open doors of the home, weaving through people until he found Sarah.

“Missus Kazansky,” he murmured, and she smiled tiredly at him.

“Hi Jake,” she greeted, nodding to the stairs. “She’s in his office.”

He nodded and took his leave, climbing the stairs towards the office of the Admiral. The door was cracked open, and he peered inside, catching sight of her sitting at the desk, staring out the window with a blank look on her face.

Jake rapped his knuckles on the door as he opened it wider. “Knock-knock, room service.”

Usually, she’d crack a smile but all she managed was, “I’m not in the mood, Jake.”

He walked inside and up to the desk. “I know.” He pulled a chair up to the desk and sat beside her, setting his cap on the desk; he watched her for a moment, then murmured, “Talk to me, pretty girl.” He reached out, taking her hand. “What can I do?”

She shrugged half-heartedly. “Can you bring back the greatest man who ever lived?”

Jake’s expression shifted into one of a deep ache as he replied softly, “If I could, I would, pretty girl.”

Her eyes flooded with tears, but she kept her gaze on the window, the bright sky, the birds flying above the water. “I stayed with him. He didn’t go alone. I was there until the end.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he whispered, squeezing her hand. “I know you were.”

“I…heard his heart stop,” she managed to push out. “My daddy’s heart. I…heard it stop.”

Jake wished he could take the grief he knew was coursing through her like the speed of light; he reached up, placing his other hand to her cheek, turning her face to his.

She looked scared.

Like a scared little girl.

“My daddy,” she whispered, looking at him. “M…m-my, my dadd—” she burst into sobs and Jake reacted like lightning, taking her in his arms.

He rested his cheek against the side of her head as she shook in his arms, repeating, “My daddy,” over and over again through her cries.

“I know, pretty girl,” he comforted. “I know.”

***

Somehow he’d managed to get her into her bedroom, arm wound tightly around her as his chest pressed against her back. He breathed quietly as he rested his head on the pillow above her head, gazing at his arm stretched beneath her head, her own hand clutched tightly in his on the bed.

Jake gently drew circles in her stomach, and she whispered, “Did you know that one time, daddy and I smoked a joint at a train station listening to ‘One Toke Over The Line?’”

His fingers stopped as his brows furrowed, and he picked his head up. “Do what?”

She snickered weakly. “We smoked a joint. At a train station. And listened to ‘One Toke Over The Line.’”

“Your dad?” he asked. “Admiral Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, smoked a joint…with his kid?”

“Mhm.”

He inhaled and exhaled before he deadpanned, “Never in a million years would I have ever guessed that.”

She shifted slightly. “It was his favorite song.”

“Yeah?”

“That and ‘Keep On Tryin’.’” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I can ever listen to them again.”

“I thought we were going to play that at our wedding,” he complained. “Well now what are we supposed to dance to?”

She laughed softly. “Not exactly a wedding song, Jake.”

“Says who?” he shot back, digging his chin into the crown of her head.

“Who said I was going to marry you anyway?” she asked. “Don’t you know that Bradley and I sworn to get married at thirty if we weren’t by then?”

Jake scowled and tightened his arm around her waist. “I will literally kill the man. Best friend or not, I will.”

She turned in his arms, laying her head on his chest. “I’m kidding.”

“Better be,” he warned, re-securing his arm at her back; he looked down at her for a moment, then asked softly, “You coming back to base with us? You know we won’t be upset if you don’t.”

“I’ll be there,” she answered. “I just…” she trailed off and he nodded.

“I know.” He pulled back, looking into her eyes; his hand drifted from her back to her cheek, and he brushed his thumb along her skin.

She searched his gaze for a moment, then asked, “Will you stay with me tonight?”

Jake nodded. “As long as you need me, pretty girl.”

[cherrylibby]

Tearful Promise

Tonight, the two of you sat on the couch, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering light over your faces. Takeout containers rested on your laps, but while Jake ate with his usual enthusiasm, your food remained untouched. You stabbed at it half-heartedly with your fork, your appetite long gone. Your mind was miles away, trapped in an endless loop of worries and unspoken fears.

Jake’s gaze drifted toward you, his sharp eyes catching the way your shoulders slumped and how your brow furrowed in thought. He set his container down on the coffee table and leaned closer, his hand reaching out to capture yours. His fingers, warm and steady, enveloped your trembling ones.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with concern. He tilted his head slightly, his green eyes scanning your face for answers.

You hesitated, forcing a tight smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Nothing, just tired,” you replied, though the words felt hollow, even to you.

Jake wasn’t fooled. He knew you better than that—knew the little signs that something was eating away at you. His grip on your hand tightened, grounding you. “Sweetheart, don’t do that,” he said gently. “Talk to me. Please.”

His other hand rose to cup your cheek, the roughness of his palm grounding against your skin. His thumb moved in slow, soothing strokes as his eyes searched yours, full of unwavering tenderness. “Tell me,” he coaxed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me help.”

The lump in your throat swelled until you could no longer hold it back. Tears blurred your vision as you finally admitted, “I’m scared.”

Jake’s breath caught, his heart twisting at the raw vulnerability in your voice. He didn’t need an explanation; he already knew. The looming deployment was a weight you both carried, but you bore it differently, quietly, until it crushed you.

You blinked, and the first tear slipped free, sliding down your cheek. “Five months, Jake,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “You’ll be gone for five months. I’ll be here... carrying this baby... and I don’t even know if you’ll come back.”

Your words hit him like a blow. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as sobs wracked your body. His hand slid up and down your back, his touch firm and reassuring despite the ache in his chest. He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, murmuring into your hair. “Darlin’, I know it’s hard. I know it’s not fair, but I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to come home to you. To you and our baby. You mean everything to me.”

You pulled back slightly, your tear-filled eyes locking with his. The love and guilt in his expression tore down the last of your walls, and you let the full weight of your fears spill out. “I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to.”

Jake reached up, brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. His own eyes glistened now, the emotion he’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “You won’t have to,” he said fiercely. “You’re not alone in this, sweetheart. I’ll come back to you. I swear it.”

His hand slid to the nape of your neck as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the overwhelming connection you shared. His lips moved against yours, speaking promises that words alone could never convey.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the storm of emotion swirling within him. “More than anything. Always.”

And for the first time that night, you let yourself believe him, clinging to the hope that his love would be enough to carry you through the long, uncertain months ahead.

[katiecanblog]

He SIGNED it tho

New favorite Mav pic just dropped

[lexicrvg]

have we ever talked about Maverick burying his wings with Ice or that's like not... something

[military-newsboys]

Ice: I'll offer you some friendly advice-  Mav: I don't want your advice.  Ice: Well, then consider it unfriendly advice.

[thethingsido4]

You made Slider an Admiral. Good, good!

Cyclone: Maverick, what's this email response you sent me about? Maverick: I...never sent you an email response to anything recently, sir...? (Cyclone turns his monitor so Maverick can read the email he allegedly sent) Email:..."I don't know. I know you told me. But I have had a very long day. I am very small, and I have no money - so you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under." (Maverick glares at the computer) Cyclone:...So, can you tell me what exactly this means, Captain? Maverick:....It means, sir, that Admiral Ron Kerner learned how to hack into my email. Cyclone: I'm guessing you hacked into his first? Maverick: That's not the point -

[carmenell]

as promised, matching ice & mav keychains

now who wants to be the iceman to my maverick 😔

[stellarskyes]

Found a cool picrew, so I made hangster

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2317684/

[stopthatfool]

10!!!!! needdddd icemav angst......

haiii... i totally forgot i wrote this,,, here is the icemav angst as requested.. hopefully one day i will finally get around to posting the whole thing on ao3

[goddesspharo]

I'm the money. Every penny of it. [Top Gun: Maverick + 007]