#i'm just a poor iceman

[silverbladexyz]

This was based off a request in my inbox that I somehow couldn't find anymore ;w; but it was a cute one :)

The images do not belong to me. They belong to their original owners.

TW: Mentions of smoking. Gender neutral reader

Dazai, Iceman, and Ayatsuji with an S/O who has a pet kitty

Dazai:

-Despite Dazai being quite an energetic drama queen, I have a feeling that he'd be rather chill with your cat

-We all know that he has a special connection to a rather special cat (Natsume), so in the first few times he was alone with your cat, he definitely tried to find out if it was actually an ability user in disguise. And by that, I mean poking it a few times to see if his nullification ability could make it revert back to it's human form (spoiler: it did not)

-But suspicions aside, Dazai loves your pet kitty! When he comes home after a tiring day of work at the Armed Detective Agency, simply stroking your cat's soft fur is enough to temporarily distract his mind from everything. He might even hug the cat to his chest as he lies down on the couch, and prompt you to take a photo since he 'looks more handsome at that angle' Dark Era anime reference owuashaah

-If your cat doesn't warm up to other people easily, then you're in for a treat. Dazai would be chasing after the cat with sardines and toys and everything cats supposedly like to try and win it's affection and trust, while fake crying to you that your pet 'hates him'. He will even try meowing at your cat, and his meows are so surprisingly accurate that you sometimes think he's a cat in disguise

-Over time, your cat decides to finally trust Dazai, and he is overjoyed when it happens. Your beloved will become 10x more affectionate with the feline, and it is now a common occurrence where he hugs it and proclaims how adorable or beautiful it is; often sneaking in a compliment that it was almost as beautiful as it's owner, which is you :)

-Dazai definitely would try to teach your pet kitty some tricks to impress you. Some of the tricks he tries to teach it concerns you since 'no cat would need that knowledge', but he still insists on going forward with the training, since it 'might be useful someday'. You gave up trying to convince him, and you were glad that you did, because now you have one of the smartest and trick-y cats in all of Yokohama. Yay! Though you weren't too impressed when Dazai taught the kitty to fetch things for him... but you trusted his judgement

-He certainly loves having the cat perch on his shoulders while he does his paperwork at home (for once lmao), since I headcanon he likes the silky texture of your cat's fur against his cheek as he writes. Sometimes, when he takes a mini break, or when he's just admiring the lovely Yokohama scenery outside the window, Dazai would pet the cat's head, who in turn nuzzles into his palm

-On days where you're busy, he'll be more than happy to look after your cat for you! Even though he might purposefully mess things up just for laughs, Dazai will actually be more serious when it comes pet-sitting. He wouldn't want to let you down, and ensures that all care your cat receives will be top tier- including baths. You had never seen as many expensive cat shampoos than ever before in your life, and by the end of the entire ordeal your cat will be ✨immaculate✨. Dazai might even joke about starting to use cat shampoo too please don't let him use it

-Uses your cat as an excuse to slack off from work sometimes. Kunikida almost had a meltdown when he can't find Dazai in the usual places, only for Dazai to tell him through the phone 'But I just had to look after my lovely Y/N's cat!~ Or else they'll be quite sad that I'm not bonding enough with our precious child! u.u' #saveKunikidafromDazai'santics

-He would definitely take some videos of your cat doing tricks, and show them to Atsushi, asking him if he could do those tricks but in his tiger form. The poor boy is startled and is going all 'but I can't control my full tiger form!'; it does not help how Dazai says that his nullification ability could turn Atsushi back to normal if things were to go out of control. Fortunately Kunikida stepped in and reminded Dazai to get back to work

-Fun fact: crab meat can be a good treat for cats as it is rich in protein. And we know that our bandaged detective loves to eat crab meat too. So imagine if Dazai opens a tin of canned crab, about to eat it- only to see your cat sitting down at his feet, giving him the cute pleading Puss in Boots eyes as it stares at the crab meat held between his chopsticks. Sometimes, your lover would (begrudgingly) give the kitty his precious crab that was initially meant for himself to savour, but other times he'll just finish the entire can of crab meat while holding a staring contest with your cat as if daring it to do something

-If you wanted to get another cat, Dazai isn't opposed. The more the merrier, and he knows better than anyone else the feeling of loneliness. Be prepared for him to splurge a lot more money on cat products though; and don't even ask where the money came from /j

Iceman:

-Chill assassin dude doesn't show too many outward reactions with your cat, but don't worry since he thinks it's cute and would definitely take good care of it if you asked him to

-Oftentimes, you'd see them next to each other on the couch, with the cat on his shoulders or on his lap. Iceman will sometimes pet it, and despite his frighteningly cold demeanour most of the time, he's actually quite gentle when it comes to your pet

-Because your man himself is so calm and laid-back, he can make even the most energetic of cats be as tranquil as a lake. This definitely helps when you're trying to chase your cat down to give it a bath, because they run fast

-Iceman also stops smoking as often when he learns that cats dislike the smell of cigarette smoke. Keep in mind that he won't fully quit since it's difficult to do so, but he'll definitely be mindful about it and only smoke when he's certain that the lingering smell on his body wouldn't affect your cat

-He also plays music for your cat sometimes! It's scientifically proven that cats tend to like soft classical music, and luckily your partner has quite the collection of records that he'd put on for you, him, and your cat to listen to. It also calms you down after a stressful day, and it sets the perfect mood for your lover to embrace you in his arms

-When feeding your cat, Iceman sometimes leaves some tuna or sardines on top of it's food so that it would add some flavour to the kibble. He somehow always finds the freshest and best quality fish for his favourite feline, and don't worry about the cost since the Mafia pays quite a bit

-Is also the type of guy to buy plush and wicker cat trees for your cat to climb and jump on and off it. If it breaks, don't concern yourself with buying a new one because Iceman is actually quite good with his hands. In just a few minutes, he'd have fixed the cat tree up and made it look as good as new

-Sometimes, when he's had a tiring day, Iceman would cuddle you on the couch while your cat jumps onto your laps- and it's the cutest thing ever with all three of you sharing a nice big hug to wind down and relax

-If your cat is a rather mischievous one with dozens of antics, you can catch Iceman smiling a soft smile as he watches the cat being up to no good again. He'll always intervene and stop it if things were about to go south, but he does enjoy having a good chuckle at it's funny shenanigans

-Like Dazai, Iceman wouldn't mind if you wanted to get more cats, since he's quite easy-going with whatever you choose to do. And the fact that you have a soft spot for cats makes him soft for you too ❤

Ayatsuji:

-Now unlike Dazai and Iceman, Ayatsuji actually has cats too! And he's glad that you have experience in taking care of cats since it would make life much easier for him

-He definitely would introduce his cats to yours. They're actually quite well-behaved, and soon enough you'd have three gorgeous felines clambering all over Ayatsuji's office and being adorable menaces to anyone who visits the room. It brightens Tsujimura's day, but she'd never admit it

-Ayatsuji is a genius, which means that he most likely will also teach your cat some tricks. Such as sitting down, coming back when called, and many more! Even though he rarely would have time to play with your cats (yes his cats are your cats too now), he'd still try to feed them and pet them whenever he could

-Don't worry about your pet making a mess in his office, because your paramour will train it to be civil and docile, which can prevent many incidents from happening. Your cat does find some of the western furniture in there to be fun places to climb and leap onto, but it never damages anything with it's claws, which is what you're thankful for since you don't want a disappointed Ango on your heels

-Despite not being an affectionate person, Ayatsuji actually likes to pet your cat! It gives him a sense of relief and calmness, since he prefers to be alone with cats than with humans (you're the exception). If you ask him to, he'll definitely brush your cat's coat everyday; and he is so focused and detailed while doing it that it makes you think the cat was his own child (in some way it is hehe)

-He also likes the cat's company when he's looking over cases in his office. Ayatsuji doesn't bring your cat to crime scenes since he doesn't want to jeopardise it's safety, but when he is pondering over the perpetrators of the case, the feline would nuzzle itself up against his legs, which would make him become slightly soft inside

-Shopping for cat collars!! If you haven't noticed in the picture yet, Ayatsuji's cats both have cute collars that suit them very nicely, and there's no doubt he'd want the same for your cat (if you allow it of course). He has amazing taste, and knows where to get the cheapest but best looking cat collars in Yokohama. I headcanon he likes the collars with darker colours and a small bell on it; simplistic yet stylish

-As you all know, Ayatsuji likes dolls, and is talented at making them. So over the course of a few days, he might stitch together a few small dolls for your cat to play with. It keeps your cat entertained, and even Ayatsuji himself cracks a few rare smiles here and there at the adorable sight

-10/10 cat parent, and a 100/10 partner. Ayatsuji will treat you and your cat right :)

Now I want a pet cat too 🤧🐈

@circinuus @ruanais @yuugen-benni @oldworldpoolhall @kolyakisses @sariel626 @chocsra

[rose-l-20]

Whipped ~ T.I.K

My first request! I’m so excited to write this!

Requested by @stinkygirl009 😊🤍

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Fem reader

WARNINGS: a touch of spice, pretty fluffy if you take the readers panic out of it. If I've missed anything let me know and ill add it.

She/her pronouns used

Ice was sitting in the TOP GUN classroom taking notes for the next mission, but the poor guys mind came to your face, your hair, your smile, your natural scent, your perfumes and your eyes. The amount of times Ice sighed caused Slider to nearly rip his hair out, as he knew the only reason he's agitated these days was because the poor guy hadn't seen you in nearly 2 weeks.

"Ice, I swear if you sigh one more time I'm going to loose my shit." Slider whispered, along with a firm hand gesture in the shape of a claw.

"I'm sorry!" Ice whisper yelled back rubbing his hand on his face. "can you blame me though? if you had a beautiful goddess of a woman within a 25 minute drive radius from here you wouldn't be itching to sneak out of here just for a glimpse of her?" His voice quiet yet felt like he was shouting at the top of his lungs.

Slider rolled his eyes and murmured under his breathe "pussy-whipped". This didn't go un-heard by the stress ridden blonde, and the heel of his boot met the side of Sliders shin. "You know that just proves my point right?" a chuckle left sliders mouth and in response he got the bird from the now annoyed piolet.

-

As the sun set over the TOP GUN base, Iceman went to his small home where all students were stationed and threw his helmet onto his bed. It didn't take long for his eyes to meet the picture of you sitting in a white frame on his bedside table. You were wearing a red dress he had bought you. The dress was ankle length with thick straps, and one had fallen down leaving your shoulder bare. You were looking to the side, the summer sun hitting your face just right and a small smile rested on your face. He groaned out "This is such bullshit!".

He started getting into comfortable clothes when a dangerous, career threatening idea came to his mind. He swapped his pyjama pants to his jeans, and slipped on his sneakers. There was a part of his mind that was screaming ‘just wait! You only have 2 weeks left!’ and another saying the complete opposite. He was desperate to get his arms around the one person who makes each day worth it. He has seen so many TOP GUN students leave during the night to see, or sneak their girls into the base and get away with it. So what was stopping him?

He got his car keys and put his bomber jacket on. Iceman had subconsciously studied the base and knew the quietest route to his car. He walked fast, not wanting to waste a second of time. He saw some instructors walking, he shuffled into a shadowed area of the path and was out of sight. He paused and waited for them to walk a far distance.

He got to the car and did a final look out before getting in and hastily driving off. He had to keep reminding himself to follow the road rules and not speed or run a red light. The street of your house was slowly approaching and his thoughts were running wild. The time of his arrival was 7:45pm, and Tom was on the porch to the front door in a matter of seconds. Getting the spare key he got given, he unlocked the door and went inside.

He placed his keys and wallet on the entry table and walked into the kitchen. He didn’t see you in the main area of your home so he went up the stairs, seeing your bedroom lamp on. Walking in, he saw you enjoying a DIY cheese board and charcuterie board. You had a book in your hand and the record player was softly playing.

“Hey-” he softy spoke, but was interrupted by a startled scream.

“AHH! What the actual fuck?” Your voice sounded pissed off, and at this point he remembered you hated being scared. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you (y/n)!” He sat down on the bed and held your hand. “It’s ok, just don’t do it aga- wait, what are you doing here?!” The book in your hand met the floor as you threw it, and moved the boards onto your bedside table.

You grabbed his face in your hands and searched for injuries. “Are you hurt? We’re you kicked out? Did you QUIT?!” Ice couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sweetie, I’m fine…I snuck out!” He held both of your hands and rubbed your palms with his thumbs. Your eyebrows came together and you let out a ‘huh?!’ You knew how serious he was about his career, so this was not like him.

“Have you been hanging out with Maverick or something? Because that is something he would do not you!” Your thoughts coming out at a rapid rate. Tom rolled his eyes and smiled. “No, I haven’t. I missed you and couldn’t wait 2 more weeks to see you so I snuck out”

Toms hands found your waist and pulled you close. You were rambling on about your confusion and somewhat lecturing him on work ethic and rules. He shut you up with a kiss and you instantly melted into both the kiss and him.

“I missed you too idiot” you roll your eyes. “But seriously, what demon possessed you? You have 2 weeks until graduation and you risk it by doing this?” You just couldn’t wrap your head around both the situation, and the concept of the situation. “Well, when your Girlfriend has been the only thing you can think about…you just have to see her” Tom’s shoulders lift up and down.

“You are something else Kazinsky” your voice soothed the Pilot, and you reached behind you for the food. You placed it between the two of you and resumed your meal together. You guys caught up on what was going on in your separate lives, and what your plans were for the rest of the two weeks.

Fun beach days, working shifts, flight methods and jet safety were just some of the million topics that were brought up. Tom looked at the clock, which read ‘1:31am’, he knew he needed to get back but how could he when your body heat left him in a trance as your French painted nails carded through his blonde, slightly helmet headed hair.

“I’ve gotta go, it’s getting late” his sigh was a deep and dense one, yours was a tired one. “Ok, don’t worry 2 weeks will fly by ok?” You reassured him. He nodded in agreement… until his tired mind snapped awake with a more dangerous but fun idea.

“Come back with me!” He blurted “WHAT?!” you were not expecting your boyfriend to want to pull not 1 but 2 stunts in one night, so you placed your hand to his forehead to see if he was feeling unwell.

“You’re not my boyfriend! You are a clone! How are we going to pull it off? What am I supposed to be doing all day stuck inside your house?” You listed. He chuckled at your cuteness, you were always worried about something and he found joy in being your reassurance. “It will be ok, I’ve bought you some books I was going to give you after the next 2 weeks. There’s a TV in my house and I have a lot of movies you can choose from, and a whole lot more” he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear while you processed his words.

“Ok, let’s do it. But if you get in trouble I will kill you” you got up and got a bag organised.

-

You both got to base at 2:20am and you heart rate was higher than the Eiffel Tower. Were you really going to do this? You took a deep breath as you both got out of his car.

Tom took your bag and swung it over his shoulder. He grabbed your hand and guided you along the safest path, and kept to the shadows as much as possible. You saw people walking around and it caused you to hear your heart beat in your ears. Ice squeezed your hand in reassurance as you got closer to his back window, which he always left 2 inches open.

He pushed it up carefully, then helping you get in along with your bag. Once he was sure you were safe and the coast was clear he climbed in. He closed the window and locked it, pulling the curtains shut and making sure there was no cracks.

“Oh my god, we just did that!” You whisper shouted, and hugged Tom close to you. He stroked a hand in your hair and swayed, knowing how to relax you. He made eye contact with his schedule for tomorrow and he didn’t have anything until 10:45am so he wasn’t stressed about sleeplessness.

You looked up and kissed him, he responded with a hungry growl. He had missed you and your body this close to him, so much so that his body temperature rose and he became hot. He could feel your body react the same as his as the kiss turned passionate.

He guided you to the bed and kissed down your jaw and neck. “God I missed you baby”

-

The next day Iceman sat in class, focused and relaxed. His notes were neat, his hair and uniform to match. Ice asked questions, gave recommendations and was very attentive.

Slider looked at him in confusion, because he had countless and endless days of being an annoying little pussy whipped shit. As the class went on, Slider observed his friend. When everyone started having their own conversations he decided to ask him what drug was he on.

“What’s up with you Ice? One day your all sulky and whiny and now your chipper and productive?” He questioned with a squint.

“You know how you said I was “pussy whipped”?” He smirked down at his work, making edits and adding more details.

Meanwhile Sliders brain was short circuiting. There was no way he, the sensible and responsible Iceman had broken the rules!

“No way” he mumbled and Tom’s smile got bigger. “You “I’m mister responsible and would never disrespect the rules” Tom “Iceman” Kazansky snuck out?”

Ice laughed and responded with a smirk.

“And snuck in”

Sliders body turned to his work and mutter in a surprised voice…

“pussy whipped”

[coffeecollective]

INCREDIBLY Inspited by a fanfic I read, I'm blanking on which so when I find It i'll give credits, it was an excellent read and I latched SO HARD onto it -Maverick🛩️

The first time Maverick was in the air since Gooses death will always be one he'll cherish.

The first time may have been when he flipped out on poor sundown but He doesn’t really count that,

The first one he counts where He was actually Himself while in the air was the same night of the first hop without Goose with him, After the Sundown incident.

After the hop with sundown Maverick was defeated, He never thought he could ever fly the same again, not without goose with him.

After he stormed back to the locker room alone, and after his talk with iceman, he walked back to his flat.

He in a pained rush began to pack all his things, shoving it all into suitcases

where was he going to go? he had no idea. he just knew he needed to leave.

While packing, he came across many of the things goose and his family had gifted to him over the years of friendship they had together.

Too painful to look at he decided to go take a break, he couldn't go to the bar so he decided to go to the airport for a breather.

It was there where Charlie spoke with him. After she spoke with him, He went back to topgun and spoke with Viper.

Incredibly Reluctant, Viper took his wings, and let him go back home to finish packing.

While packing he heard a knock at his door, he expected to open it and see Holly, or Wolf, Anyone else but the person who was standing infront of him now.

Winded, Iceman was standing infront of him, clutching the frame of his front door to keep himself stable while he tried to catch his breath.

"Whuh- Ice-?? Did-Did you RUN here???" Maverick looked at him in utter shock.

Iceman nodded, took a deep breath to collect himself, and simply said

"Put your shoes on, I'm taking you somewhere."

Maverick was at first reluctant and was about to tell him 'no' but knew that ice wasn't going to just take a simple 'no' for an answer, so he decided to humor him.

He went inside, put his shoes on, and when reached his front door again, stepping out and closing it behind him, He felt iceman grab his wrist and drag him from his house.

Maverick tried to protest and pull away or even tried to tell ice to slow down but eventually gave up and let ice drag him.

After some time he found himself standing next to ice, in their flight suits, infront of an F-14.

"Ice- No- if you think stealing this is a good idea then its really not-"

"Its fine just trust me" Ice's tone was casual and unconcerned which just made maverick MORE rather then less concerned.

"Ice, if they catch us this'll ruin your chances of Graduating and becoming an admiral. You could be grounded permanen-" He tried to protest again but Ice inturrupted him.

"I got permission from Metcalf now get in the damn F-14 Mitchell."

So he did. And they flew for hours, from sundown to sunset, enjoying the view below them. It was of course really awkward, especially since mav isn't used to being the one in the back but ice refused to let him drive or have any control,

"Just relax and enjoy the view" He told him.

It wasn't until about half way through the ride, when Ice softly said,

"Take control when you're ready"

And so maverick did.

After they landed, ice looked down at maverick

"Do you... want to go get breakfast? I'll pay"

Maverick Agreed and together they sat in the diner, in comfortable silence for awhile, But then Iceman said something that sparked a conversation and after that it was nonstop conversation as they ate their breakfast.

[christopher-bryant]

Jean: I can hear everyones thoughts so you might as well just say what you're all thinking.

Cyclops: Maybe now is not the time to-

Charles: MY BROTHER, JEAN! HE IS MY BROTHER! YOU CANNOT JUST GO THROWING THAT WORD AROUND NO MATTER IF HE'S GOOD OR BAD!

Storm: What were you thinking, sister?

Jean: He threw a car at me and tossed me through a window. I was just frustrated is all and it slipped out. It won't happen again.

Charles: Oh frustrated. She was frustrated! That makes it all ok!

Cyclops: Breathe, Professor.

Wolverine: Doesn't matter, Red. Can't go tossing that around.

Jean: Ok fine but Kitty goes around dropping n bombs and no one says anything to her!

Storm: I'm sorry she what?

Kitty: Everytime I have said it, it was only to make a point.

Wolverine: Times? You mean there's been more than once?

Cyclops: There shouldn't even be a once and- Ok thats it. When we get back, mandatory sensitivity training for the team. Bobby and Ororo will lead it.

Iceman: Oh we will?

Storm: And why is that, Scott?

Cyclops: How about a nice quiet plane ride so we can all reflect on our poor choices?

[positivelybeastly]

X-Men #4

On time for once!

Let's do this.

Hmm. Not quite sure how I feel about this? Admittedly, Illyana is a character about whom I know relatively little in the grand scheme of things, but given that she's been fighting for control of Limbo for a while, been a protege of Scott Summers, and was a War Captain on Krakoa, I would think her tactical skills would be up to snuff enough that she could be half decent at chess?

That being said, the trope that tactical ability can be measured by chess ability isn't one that I think has to be followed. It's as much a test of logic as it is of tactical planning and forethought, and between Illyana's more chaotic nature and her lack of formal schooling, maybe it's just the case that she would rather show you how good she is in the field than go on about chess ability. And I can think of a good reason why she would choose to play chess with the person she has blocked, rather than any other game.

Anyway!

Trevor Fitzroy isn't allowed his weird little gremlin bro-pal possible love interest guy Bantam anymore, because of woke. (I know fuckin' nothing about Fitzroy, incidentally, this is based off of their weird relationship in that one X-Men: TAS episode I watched.)

And yeah, what WAS Krakoa all about, huh? Where DID all those babies that got abandoned go?

. . . Well, anyway!

Hank, chairs are for sitting on, not perching on . . .

It's interesting that we're doing split team issues - clearly, this run is taking cues from New X-Men not just in terms of some of its plot points, but also some of its structure; there were multiple arcs that focused exclusively on Charles and Jean, or Logan, Scott and Fantomex, with the rest of the team in the ether. It's not a bad way to tackle a team of this size, and given the news that both Magik and Psylocke are getting ongoing solo series, I'm less worried about them getting focus in a team book now.

Where is the Marauder, incidentally? I can't imagine you need that for a psychic rescue? Unless Max is using it, I suppose. Something that'll come up in #5, I imagine.

It's a sign of just how poisoned the discourse about Hank McCoy is that I saw multiple comments on Reddit saying that this scene heralded a return to evil Beast, because he also didn't like to go out on field missions and would regard his work as more important.

That being said, this reaction was weird to me, given that this Hank comes from an era where he was at his most pro-active, heroic, and willing to fight for people he didn't know - until I read the Infinity Comics, which made it all make a good degree more sense.

Hank isn't being cowardly or showing a case of poor priorities; no, instead, he appears not to trust himself, and he'd rather not place what he perceives to be a volatile, potentially morally untrustworthy element (himself) into a live situation. Working on Magneto's illness is a cut and dry net good with no downsides, so it makes sense he'd want to keep working on that, especially if Hank has reason to believe a similar condition could affect any one of them at any time.

Not sure I love Illyana's antagonism towards Rogue here? Feels kinda like it came out of nowhere and is just being done to foreshadow the upcoming 4 part crossover where these two teams come to a head. Scott's frustration with Rogue's attack on Graymalkin in #3 felt a bit more naturalistic than this.

Idie icesliding like that really does make me wonder if MacKay also wanted Iceman for this team but he was earmarked for Eve Ewing's Exceptional book. I doubt it, just because MacKay's done some really good, pointed work with Idie, which continues in this issue, but the visual parallel is just hard to get out of my brain.

I missed this Hank, a lot.

Also, good time to note that we do have a different artist here! Netho Diaz's style isn't a million miles away from Ryan Stegman's, so it's not a very jarring shift, and I do like how Diaz renders a lot of these characters - less heavily stylised, but heavily styilised isn't always to everyone's taste, so I feel like this was a good pick of fill-in artist.

Man. Have I mentioned I missed this Hank, a LOT? That happy little smile on his face in the bottom right panel really does delight me.

Still not quite the bouncing effervescence of Defenders Hank, but this is still very solidly 90s Hank, who I do rather enjoy, especially when he's in the hands of a writer who knows when to really let his loquacious qualities out to play, and when to let brevity be the soul of wit.

Idie's really come a long way since Wolverine & the X-Men, and I'm really, honestly, very happy to see it. She's coming from a place of real experience and wisdom and the struggle of loving yourself in what can feel like a loveless world, and I hope MacKay continues to showcase her maturation and development. Considering how worried I was that she'd be wallpaper in this series, this is encouraging stuff.

If you had asked me which member of this team of X-Men I expected to give what amounts to a really popping Batman speech, I would not have picked Cain Marko, but this feels real and earned in light of his genuine Krakoan redemption. The elevation from avatar of destruction to protector, to bodyguard, to living target, is fucking awesome.

Yeah, work that pole, Hank.

That being said, this dialogue does still sound kinda weird for Hank. This feels a little more like X-Force Beast than anything else, so I'm wondering if this is a seed of something, or if Hank is just kinda frustrated that what feels like a side quest popped up just as he was about to progress the main quest and enter act 2. God knows that if I woke up in the morning and found out I had to tangle with Trevor Fitzroy and the Upstarts, I would also be a little annoyed - this feels a little bottom of the barrel for the X-Men.

The X-Men fandom at large just heaved a great sigh and said, in unison, "Oh, this fucker."

Not the AoA geneticist I would have wanted to see in this book, but I'll take it, I suppose. Hopefully we get an explanation about where this guy came from, because I was fairly certain he was dead? Not that that's ever stopped anyone before, but just, you know, so we can put it on the Wiki and all.

Laksa! Apparently a spicy noodle dish, usually made with thick rice noodles, with toppings such as chicken, straw, or fish - that being said, given we were told that Glob is a vegetarian and that he therefore only cooks vegetarian, I have to imagine this might be a coconut soup laksa that might include eggs, deep-fried tofu, beansprouts, and herbs, or some variation thereof.

Hank definitely seems to approve. :)

God, please tell me that Colossus is going to join the team, I would absolutely love for Jed MacKay to get to work on our beefy Russian lad, he deserves some TLC after the trauma conga line that was Krakoa and the years before that.

Interesting that he's a blocked number and yet they're still interacting, but then again, I have a browser extension that blocks Reddit on my computer, and I still go on Reddit, so maybe that rings truer than I'd like to admit.

This leads me to my guess as to the reason of why chess - it's playable long distance, and doesn't require any elaboration on moves. You just say the piece and where you're moving them to. Something easy to play with someone who doesn't feel communicative. A way of talking without really talking.

All in all, a decent issue, but it definitely feels more in line with #2 than #1 or #3 - I almost have to wonder if the edict to double ship issues came down, and MacKay felt more able to decompress things and spread them out across multiple issues as a result, especially since I think that, if this were paced more tightly, we'd be progressing through the plot fairly quickly.

If we're taking New X-Men as the blueprint, Morrison would absolutely have squished the last four issues into two - but they weren't double shipping, so.

If we're looking at odd numbers being the plot heavy, characterisation heavy issues, and the evens being action and a bit more 'filler' issues, then I don't think that's an awful structure - I just think that, in a world where single issues cost $3-4 a pop, people might start skipping the even numbered issues in an effort to save money. This might read better in trades, which feels A) bad to say, and also B) increasingly common about modern comics. Not sure how I feel about it.

[nancydrewwouldnever]

His roles started to become worst while his partying increased. The we got all the drugs and strip clubs rumours (not really gossip but well), marvel appeared and his PR team took control, but that ended and well 🤷‍♀️

I'm sorry, but I think this is a misrepresentation. The bulk of his heavy partying was in his 20s while living in L.A. Did you party at all in your 20s? Did you perhaps make some decisions you shouldn't have because you were partying? We all did. It's part of the process of growing up and learning. And being in L.A. and in the permissive environment of the entertainment industry, then that just means a lot more possible poor decisions to be made. I don't think we have to have puritanical judgment about that. People live and learn, and he learned enough to move out of L.A. in 2014.

But even in that time, he got projects that showed he was trying to grow as an actor and showing some promise, like Sunshine, Puncture, Street Kings, and even comedies like Scott Pilgrim and What's Your Number.

The partying decreased after the constant work of the Marvel contract kicked in, but you still got the good fun rumors like him and Mackie tearing it up in ATL. (Or the slightly less fun rumors involving him and Renner hard partying.) But, you know, you could see him cut down on it as he aged. But even at this time he was still taking projects outside of Marvel like Snowpiercer, The Iceman, and making his own first film. And he doesn't even party anymore, from what we can see. What, an occasional weekend trip to a bar? That's not partying.

[minisugakoobies]

Tag, You're It | Kang Yeosang

For @minttangerines, who requested prompt #14: they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose

*crosses fingers* Ok tumblr, please let the tags work now?

Title: Tag, You're It Pairing: Nightcrawler!Yeosang x Reader Genre: fluff, crack, X-Men!AU Warnings: fighting (use of superpowers); brief appearances from Beast!San, Iceman!Yunho, and Sunspot!Wooyoung; reader's powers are based on Tempo (time control), maybe a lil mutual pining?

You crouch beneath a tall tree, lush greenery blessedly granting you cover from the blazing midday sun. Sweat drips down your face as you peer around the thick trunk. No sign of your enemy anywhere.

"Annyeong!"

With a loud *BAMF*, Yeosang materializes to your left, his arm stretching out to grab you.

"Fuck!" you hiss.

Instantly, you reach out and touch time with your mind, bending it to your will. Everything around you slows down, including Yeosang. Quickly, you move away from his reach, then release your grip on time, letting everything return to normal.

"Missed me!" you taunt merrily, taking advantage of Yeosang's confusion and throwing a punch of your own. He merely teleports away. "Damn it, get back here and fight!"

All around you, the Danger Room is filled with the rest of your teammates engaging in their own battles, sparring one-on-one. You're not sure why San programmed the virtual environment to resemble the jungle of the Savage Land for this training session, but you really wish it wasn't so accurately rendered. It's too damn hot.

There's no sign of Yeosang again. How did you get so lucky as to get the teleporter for your partner? You suppose it could be worse - poor Wooyoung's currently trapped in a layer of thick cloudy ice, unable to draw enough power from the sun to burn his way out of it, so he's just kind of… slowly melting, centimeter by centimeter.

"You know you have to physically tag him to win the match, right?" you ask Yunho, who is giggling to himself as he adds another layer of ice.

Yunho just grins. You leave him to his Woo-sicle as you continue trying to track your opponent, wandering into another copse of trees.

The air is thick with humidity as you slash through some low-hanging leaves with the saber you carry on your back. You've given up on trying to wipe the sweat away - what's the point?

"Yeosang," you trill sweetly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

A peal of laughter sounds above you. Glancing up, you finally spot him, dangling from a branch by his prehensile tail, swinging slightly as he smiles down at you. In the dark of boughs around him, all you can see of his face are his yellow eyes and flashing white teeth.

His demonic appearance doesn't scare you. It never did. In the weeks since he joined you and your fellow mutants at Xavier's, you've gotten to know Yeosang pretty well. He's the most gentle soul you've ever met, quiet and oh so shy.

Or at least, he used to be shy. But now that the two of you are friends, you're discovering that he's actually a little bit of a shit.

"What's wrong, Stopwatch? Something troubling you?"

You grit your teeth at his nickname for you. "Come down here already, will you? The sooner you let me tag you, the sooner we can get out of here." Slap! "Was it really necessary to program mosquitoes, San??"

From his cushy air conditioned spot in the control booth, San flashes you a peace sign.

"Why don't you come up here and let me tag you?" Yeosang shoots back.

Eyeing the massive tree, you shake your head. "There's no way I'm getting up there. Come on, Sangie, it's too fucking hot out here! If you let me win, I'll buy you a drink?"

"Resorting to bribery? Really? Tsk tsk, Professor would be so disappointed in you," Yeosang clicks his tongue. "But I mean, I guess if you can't beat me on your own…"

You roll your eyes at the obvious bait. "Why don't you come down here and say that to my face?"

"I'd love nothing more than to say it to your face, aein. Come on up."

He's also taken to calling you "aein" lately. You much prefer it to Stopwatch. Maybe too much.

Yeosang is still swaying, looking annoyingly smug, so once again, you grab hold of time and roll it to your desire. This time, you speed things up, so he's no longer swinging calmly but twisting frantically - too fast for even Yeosang's amazingly strong tail to maintain its hold on the branch. In a split second, Yeosang drops to the ground, landing tailbone first.

"Ow! Shit!"

Letting time flow naturally again, you double over in laughter.

That's when the ice sculpture that is Wooyoung suddenly explodes in a bright burst of fire. He must've melted down a hole big enough for him to absorb some solar rays. Shards of ice fly everywhere, catching the sunlight, creating a beautiful rainbow in the middle of the jungle.

"Oooh! It's snowing!"

While you're mesmerized by the pretty colors, Yeosang makes his move. Does he teleport again? Or even throw a punch or kick or take you on with his own saber? No.

He sticks his foot out as you reach for a chunk of ice, and you trip. And go down. Hard.

You lie on your back, feeling humbled. The humiliation of being defeated in the most embarrassing way possible is only amplified when he straddles your waist, grinning widely, and leans forward to cradle your face with his hands. As you blink up at him, he presses a butterfly-light kiss to the tip of your nose.

"Tag. Told you you couldn't beat me, aein. Now let me buy you a drink."

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[carousel-crows]

15. "No, I won the bet, you have to do it."

yes. Doomsday, ily (platonic and respectful)

Prompt #15: "No, I won the bet, you have to do it."

———

Mav was so sure that he was going to win. And honestly, it was laughable. 

———

The bet was very straightforward: Ice and Mav against Slider and Goose. A game of beach volleyball. Whoever gets to 20 first wins. The losers´ punishment would be revealed after the game. 

At this point, they were tied. They were all sweaty and panting. And it was very hard to focus. 

Ice looked stunning. Playing shirtless, wearing only shorts that really showed off his ass. His tanned skin was glistening in the sun, aviators blocking out the sun. His hair was like spun gold. 

The volley had started while Mav was admiring his teammate. He didn't notice until the ball dropped into the sand front of him. Goose and Slider cheered, high fiving and mocking Ice and Mav, who blushed furiously.

“Mav, are you okay? You look a little dazed. And flushed.”

“Yeah, Ice. Just tired.”

Ice didn't seem to hear him. “Sit down, I’ll bring you a water.”

Mav started to argue, but was silenced by a look from Ice. “Nope. sit your ass down. I wasn't requesting.” Ice sounded stern, but there was not bite behind it.

So Mav sat down where he was in the warm sand. The sun was starting to set, coloring everything golden. It was peaceful and comforting in a way.

“Mav?” Mav scowled at Goose, who laughed. “Oh, man. You blew it.”

———

“Y'all lost.” Slider’s singsong tortured Ice. His friend and RIO loved to beat the ever-competitive Iceman. Ice just glared and grabbed four water bottles. 

“If you try to set Mav and I up, I'm going to lock you and Goose in a broom closet for a week.”

Slider blushed, but persisted. “It'll be fine. I promise it's nothing too bad.”

Tom threw a water at Ron, then laughed when he got smacked in the face. The bottles were cold from sitting in the cooler all afternoon. Most of the ice cubes had melted, but the water was still refreshing. He opened his, took a drink, then trotted over to Pete, who was still sitting on the sandy court. Goose was sitting with him, and they seemed to just be watching the sunset.

He looked so peaceful.

He tossed a water to Nick before plopping himself down next to Pete to hand him his. 

“Thank you, Tom.”

“Anytime.”

Slider sauntered over, evil smirk on his face. Oh no.

“Alright, losers. Ready for the punishment?”

Mav groaned. “Just get it over with.”

Goose chuckles. “Tell the poor sops their cost.”

“Y'all have to bunk for a month.”

Ice shot a death glare at Ron. “That's against the rules, though.”

Goose tsked. “Not true.”

“What do you mean?” Mav sounded worried.

“We cleared it with Viper.” The son of a bitch.

Ice steeled himself for the next month.

———

“Goose, please. I can't do it.”

“No, I won the bet, you have to do it."

“But I’ll die of embarrassment. He's too pretty.”

“Oh my god, do not start confessing your love of him to me. Just tell the bastard you love him and make out or some shit.¨

¨Make out with who?¨ Mav had never wanted to hear Tom´s lovely voice less.

¨No one! Don't worry about it!¨

Tom´s face went from curious to collected in a millisecond. ¨Need help with that box?¨

Mav tried to hide his embarrassment with a cocky grin. ¨Nah, hotshot. Show me the way home.¨

Oh god, why did he say that?

Tom only froze for a moment before turning on his heel. ¨Bunks are this way.¨

Mav scrambled to his feet, grabbed the box, and followed. He only turned to plead with Goose, but that quickly died when he saw Nick barely stifling laughter. 

———

The switch was surprisingly seamless. Pete and Tom adjustled way quicker than expected. They actually started to talk to each other. Soon they were living in sync, knowing each other’s schedule by heart.

They never switched back.

Goose and Mav sat on Goose's bunk, chatting. “Mav, how ya doing with Mr. Perfect?”

“Oh, Tom? He's the best. We went out for drinks together last night, and he let me give him a ride on the bike. He's so cool, Nick.”

“Dang, he must really love you if he got on the death trap.”

Mav froze. “What?”

“I said, he's gotta love you if he went anywhere near your bike.”

“You think he loves me back?”

“Ice? Of course he does. Even a blind man could see that. Sli tells me that you're basically all he talks about. At first it was complaining, now it's practically a proposal.”

Little did they know that Tom was walking past at that exact moment. He stilled by the door, listening. 

“Ice is too good for me. Charlie was. Ice, he's so much better than I am. Not just as a pilot — as a person, too. Besides, he's probably going steady with some good looking chick. I don't think he's into guys.”

Ice almost stomped in at that. He listened to Goose anyway.

“Mav, I'm telling you this once, so listen up: You aren't a bad pilot because you're dangerous. You're not a bad person because you don't know how to express your emotions. And I know for a fact that Iceman isn't going steady with anyone, but he wants you. He is head over heels in love with you.”

“I don't know—���

Ice cracks and turns into the room. “He's right. I am so desperately in love with you, Pete Mitchell.”

Maverick sits, frozen in place. Ice crosses the room in two strides and grabs Mav’s hand. “I love you, Maverick.”

Pete snaps out of his stupor and smiles softly. “You do?” He stares at Ice, eyes searching.

“Come with me.” And he does.

———

He takes Mav down to the beach. The same one that the bet had been made and lost. The bet that brought them together, whether they wanted it or not. They sit in the sand, letting the saltwater chill their now-bare feet, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Mav sat in between Tom’s legs, leaning against his chest.

“Ice?” 

“Hmm?”

“Do you really love me?”

Tom scoffed and pressed a kiss to his hair. “Of course I do.”

“Are you sure?” He turned to see Ice better, who was admiring how the fading light enhanced Pete's features. “Because of you aren't sure—”

Ice silenced him with a gentle, chaste kiss. Mav melted almost immediately. The world seemed to stop. Languid, quiet, soft. Ice smiled into the kiss.

After an eternity, they were forced back into the world where oxygen was required. Tom studied him lovingly. The way his green eyes glittered, how his crooked smile softened to something more genuine.

“I guess losing did help, for once.” Tom chuckled.

“Pete laughed. “Not that we'll ever tell them that.”

“Oh, never. Slider can barely fit into his helmet as it is. He doesn't need a bigger head.”

“Ain't that the truth.”

“Just as true as my love for you, Darling.”

Maverick would not admit his love for the nickname until many years later in his wedding vows.

———

as always, make sure y'all drink some water and sleep! love y'all

[dark9896]

could you possibly do Angst prompt 7 with Steven Starphase?

Oh... poor Iceman Frosty

Angst 7- Steven (to Reader) "This isn't what it looks like!"

"So, why this specific tone of voice?" Steven asked K.K., "Why can't I just..."

Steven froze upon seeing you walk into the office. Almost too quickly shoving the tall, blonde woman into his office, despite her squawking in protest.

Raising one eyebrow impossibly high on your face, you opted to ignore the situation. Here you thought Steven didn't like K.K., so why would he...?

Instead of asking Klaus, or anyone else, you tried to just... forget about it. You failed miserably, but no one knew except you. Until you were already at your car, where Steven semi-ambushed you.

"[Name], do you... have a minute?" He shifted a little in an attempt to retain his confidence, "I just wanted to explain what you saw earlier."

"You shoving K.K. into your office like a child getting caught with there hand in the cookie jar?"

Nervously chuckling, "Well, I suppose it would look like that. But it wasn't what you were thinking. I swear."

Cocking your head to one side, you waited for him to explain.

"Ah... well, I needed a little advice for..." He dug into his pocket for something, "This."

Steven handed you a small envelope that felt far too full of whatever was in it.

"I just... I." Glancing back up at Steven, you noticed the deep blush across his face, "I couldn't say it out loud. I'm sorry."

[mollymauk-teafleak]

as if it might turn out this time

So I'm on my gf mandated Tom Cruise Cruise and guess which film jumped out and grabbed me by the throat! So enjoy this Edge of Tomorrow icemav au, made possible with enormous thanks to my lovely @hangsters!

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

---------

Sergeant Tom Kazansky is a battle hardened solider known as the Iceman, he's killed hundreds of mimics across multiple time loops, he's the freaking Angel of Verdun.

But he's never come across someone like Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell.

Because this time, Maverick's the one in control. He's the one in the loop, he knows whats coming.

At least until something takes them both by surprise.

--------

Apparently they had two hours. That’s what Maverick said anyway. Even though IIce had never seen a still moment in this war since it began, that’s what Maverick said. 

And he’d followed him this far. 

‘This far’ was the decaying corpse of the Lyon countryside, it was a hastily abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the overgrown fields and cracked, scarred roads. And if Maverick was telling the truth, Ice had followed him even further than this, thousands of miles across the same day played out fuck knew how many times. More versions of himself than it was comfortable to think about, getting reset over and over whenever the guy pulling them through it all couldn’t go any further. Time itself apparently stopping and restarting with Maverick’s heart.

It would be impossible to believe if Ice hadn’t done it himself. 

 “You don’t need to stand guard. I told you, we’re good for two hours.”

Ice looked over his shoulder, into the converted farmhouse where Maverick was getting embers going in the fireplace. The frenetic energy they’d rolled here on, the sidestepping obstacles like they were doing some kind of complicated dance, the one-two-three-one-two-three-one that got them off that beach and it’s slice of hell, it had stilled for now. They had two hours, like Maverick said, and he was filling a kettle, for crying out loud, so he was either correct or insane. Depending on how many resets he’d been through, it could well be both. 

“Walk me through it one more time,” Ice said with a poor attempt at patience, “If we have two hours why aren’t we just taking that helicopter and heading for the dam right now? Why aren’t we using every second to get to the omega, kill it and save the whole of humanity?”

Maverick didn’t respond to the snap in Ice’s tone, just setting the kettle on the hook above the low fire and then heading back to the kitchenette, to the cabinet where he already knew the mugs would be. Movements practiced and precise, exactly like a soldier. Odd, when Ice had clocked Major Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell as a showpony, as a recruitment tool, the moment he saw him on television screens flashing those white teeth and giving polished, repainted updates on the invasion. Clearly whatever he’d been through since getting stuck in the loop had taken that poster boy and turned him into something else. At least he still had the nice smile. 

“We can’t do that because the moment you go outside and start up that helicopter, a mimic bursts out of that south field and attacks. Same for if you try and start siphoning the gas into the truck,” Maverick recounted it all as he busied himself, pulling a spoon out of a drawer, “And this happens whether you do it right now or whether you sneak out at any point in the next two hours, thinking I’m not looking.”

Ice had the same uncomfortable sensation he felt when he looked at his own x-rays, a feeling like someone had seen something they weren’t meant to. He set his jaw and loped to one of the chairs, sinking into it like he was trying to prove he could relax. He was rewarded with a cloud of dust and a shooting pain through his hip. 

“The other one’s more comfortable,” Maverick called, perfectly on beat, “It’s better for your leg.”

“For my leg?” Ice shot back, the pain making his voice sharper than he meant, turning the surprise into a challenge. Maybe because he knew he should have shopped being surprised long before this. 

“You told me about that injury you took in Verdun, the one that never healed right,” again, Maverick didn’t react to the snappishness, making Ice wonder how grumpy he’d been in all of the other runs, “How you don’t tell anyone because they’ll ground you. I can rub your leg down for you, that always helps?”

Ice felt his cheeks flame, ducking his face even though Maverick wasn’t even looking at him. There had been comments like that here and there, ones that had mostly passed Ice by as he’d focused on training, on hitting that beach and surviving each step forward. But now it was occurring to Ice, hours later than anyone normal would have noticed, that he was definitely being flirted with. 

But not even the forward, slightly aggressive way military guys usually flirted with him and then promptly gave up when they realized they may as well have been trying to fuck a glacier. Maverick spoke to him, looked at him, offered things selflessly to him the way you would with someone you’d been married to for decades. Like there was a comfort to having Ice there, like Maverick somehow saw reassurance in the hard, fierce Angel of Verdun. Something no one else had seen, not even Ice himself. 

“So I don’t tell anyone but I told you?” he stared into the low fire, just to give his eyes somewhere to settle. He wasn’t sure why he was pushing back, why he was throwing more roadblocks against this strange kindness, “What other secrets have I told you while we’ve been fighting for our lives, out of interest?”

Maverick actually laughed, bringing two mugs over to where the kettle was now singing out a plume of warm steam, “Let’s see…I know you have a cat, your sister’s looking after her while you’re deployed. I know you played football in college. Linebacker, obviously, look at your shoulders. I know you suck at driving a stick shift. I know you have nightmares. I know you have freckles on your shoulders…I know you’re probably blushing like crazy right now…”

Ice started a little at that one, sinking a little lower in the chair he was still insisting on sitting on. 

“And,” Maverick turned, holding two mugs that he seemed to have magicked out of thin air, “I know you miss coffee like crazy. So here. Black, two sugars, right?”

He held one out to Ice, grinning at the expression on his face as he took it. Ice didn’t need to say anything, Maverick  was right, of course. Maverick had been right about everything and would be, until whatever misstep got him killed and reset the clock. Or until they saved the world. 

“Seems like all the previous versions of me were pretty chatty,” Ice hummed into his mug though his eyes didn’t leave the strange partner the universe had given him.

Maverick perched on the small side table right next to Ice’s chair rather than taking the other one for himself. Probably just to be closer to the fire, the thin under armor they were wearing was designed to have eighty five pounds of metal exoskeleton around it so it didn't keep much heat in. Especially when they were torn, bloodstained and somehow still drying from their brief dip in the Normandy sea.

“Chatty? Fuck no,” he chuckled, folding one leg under himself, proving again that this wasn’t a man used to standing to attention, “I’ve just gotten good at listening to you.”

Ice glanced away from Maverick at that, like he’d suddenly become a source of light too bright to look at without pain. He looked into his mug instead, trying to focus on the swirls of steam leaving his mug. Trying to enjoy a moment of quiet when life had been so chaotic and frantic for the last year. 

Maverick didn’t seem to mind the lack of an answer or maybe he found his answer elsewhere, in some silent way. He’d drained half his mug already, probably scalded his tongue in the process and set it aside to lean closer. 

“Let me see,” he prompted gently. 

Ice felt like he’d blushed more in the last twenty minutes than he had his whole life, “Excuse me?”

Maverick’s smile turned up at the edge and he pointed towards Ice’s shoulder, “Let me see.”

Ice opened his mouth to protest before snapping it shut again, sighing. What good was a lifetime’s worth of carefully cultivated stubbornness against a man that had all the time in the world. He shifted gingerly, setting his mug down next to Maverick’s to pull off his shirt, wincing as sweat and semi dried blood clung on stubbornly. After a moment, he felt a second set of hands helping, the pain easing as Maverick’s warmer skin brushed his own. 

“It’s not that bad,” he mumbled a little sourly, like a small child trying to defend himself after doing something he shouldn’t have, “Looks worse than it is.”

Mav’s eyebrow raised, “Oh yeah, sure…”

Ice wasn't strictly lying, he’d had far worse injuries than the puncture wound just a little ways in from where his left arm met his shoulder. A piece of flying debris had caught him just before they’d cleared the drop site, in one of the few places where the mech suits had to sacrifice coverage for movement. It had been a brief burning sensation, a dull pain and then quickly forgotten in the adrenaline, following Maverick like a beacon through the slice of hell that had opened up back on that beach. 

“You never get moving as quickly as I tell you to after we land,” Maverick tsked fondly, gently studying the wound with its layers of cracked, drying blood and fingers of fast rising bruise snaking out from it all the way along Ice’s clavicle. 

“Can’t break the habit I guess,” Ice grunted at the press of his fingers, as careful as he was trying to be, “I’m the squad leader. I’m supposed to wait until everyone else has dropped.”

Saying that made a sudden, sharp grief rise in his chest, a fresh layer to the pain. The thought of the men he’d left behind back on that beach, the ones he was supposed to lead and protect. If this run was the one, if they saved the world, those men, the closest thing he’d had to friends would stay dead. 

Thinking of Slider was the hardest. Slider, with his booming voice and bad jokes and comforting presence at Ice’s right shoulder. Slider with his wife serving as a volunteer field nurse, his twin baby daughters at home. They’d been together since basic training, he’d been the one Ice had tried to explain Verdun to, run after run, until Ice realized it was safer if he didn’t know. If Ice just focused on winning that battle and protecting his friend. He’d managed it back then but there had always been that cold, uncomfortable knowledge that there would be one time where Ice wouldn’t be able to save Slider. 

Knowing about it in advance didn’t make living it any easier. 

Maverick must have seen the shift in Ice’s face, he took his other shoulder in a comforting grip, “Hey. I’m sorry.”

Ice looked up at him, at the sincerity in his face, the understanding. Knowing what someone was going through and wishing you could have saved them from it. 

“I know,” Ice swallowed hard, “Who’d you lose?”

Maverick tilted his head slightly, his smile growing softly pained, “You.” 

He left Ice with that, getting the rest of the water from the kettle, taking it back to the kitchen. He came back with a chipped bowl, white cloth, bandages that must have been tucked under the sink. 

“Sorry if this hurts,” Maverick hummed, aiming for his usual light tone, “We didn’t have time to cover field medicine in training, mostly just how to not get my head chopped off by a mimic and how to turn the safety off my suit.”

“Fuck,” Ice laughed shortly, leaning back so Maverick could start gently cleaning off the wound, “You were really that bad?”

“Worse than you’re imagining,” he gave him that smile Ice had seen on so many TV screens, selling the United Defence Force, like he’d just pulled it out of a hat, “I can look real pretty on an enlistment ad though.” 

Ice laughed, “I’ll give you that one…would have worked on me…”

“Oh?” Maverick’s face softened into a more natural, more pure smile, like those words had been enough to delight him. 

“Well…yeah,” Ice shrugged with the one shoulder Mav wasn’t cleaning out, “Shut up.”

“Didn’t say anything,” Mav grinned, the bowl of water now the color of rust, switching to the roll of bandages, “Drink your coffee, Sergeant.”

Ice did. Maverick was right, he had missed it like crazy. He could almost forget about the low thrum of pain in his shoulder, the empty stomach sickness left behind by fleeing adrenaline, the raw, frayed edges of his nerves, some of which were still calling for this stillness they’d found to erupt in screams and bangs and chaos, just to get it over with. Ice pushed that instinct away, got it to fade into static along with the hurt. If Maverick said they had two hours, they had two hours. He was the one person on this planet even Tom “Iceman” Kazansky couldn’t find reason to doubt. 

“Y’know, I’m kind of jealous,” he observed lightly, mouth seeming to have detached itself from his brain and running off by itself, “Of you still having the power, I mean.” 

“Yeah, you've said that before,” Mav chuckled, finally happy with how he’d tied the bandages and sitting back. His gaze flickered to Ice, like he knew what he was going to say but was letting him say it anyway. 

“I know it’s because I’m a control freak,” Ice hummed, tapping his fingers against the chipped tin of the mug, “Saving the entire world was just on my shoulders, I had all the time in the world and I didnt have to worry about anyone else fucking it up. It was all up to me.”

“Yeah,” Maverick tilted his head, “Up to you to die over and over. Sacrifice yourself until an ancient hive mind alien had to change its plans because you were so damn stubborn.”

Ice looked at Maverick steadily, for once not letting himself be afraid to really study the other man’s face. There was a lot there that was familiar, the general air of resignation, the bags under the eyes, the ease of invincibility. Back when Ice had picked up the reset back in the very first battle of Verdun- the only battle anyone else ever saw- he’d felt completely alone. He’d felt like an alien himself, like in amongst it all he’d forgotten how to be human, even after a blood transfusion had unknowingly tethered him back to time. He’d told himself it didn’t matter, he was a soldier, a damn near perfect one, and that’s all he had to be.

But he’d never imagined that one day he’d look into someone else’s face and see that same feeling. That maybe they’re was more he could do for Mav than teach him to be faster, stronger, how to use the weapons in his hands and send him into the breach. That maybe he might actually be able to help someone, to be the steady, calming voice he’d never had to say it’s going to be okay, you’re still you. 

“We’ve got two hours, right?” Ice murmured, aware that he’d been lost in thought for a long moment. 

“One hour and twenty,” Maverick corrected gently, though there was a soft hope in his dark eyes, “Close enough.”

It would do. If there was anything this war had taught Ice, it was how to make the most of every second. 

Maverick’s lips were already waiting for Ice’s but there was something comforting about this particular inevitability, the idea that the soft, sweet things were as predetermined as the bad, even if they didn’t stick around as long. The kiss opened up into something deeper, Ice’s more mobile hand coming up to grasp the back of Maverick’s shirt, Maverick himself cradling Ice’s face like he was trying to hold him in place, hold him in this moment. It was messy, rushed, like two teenagers in the back of a car, like both of them were sure they’d be yanked apart at any moment and had to fill every second with each other. 

All thoughts of the invasion, the rest of the human race, what was possible and what was impossible, it all faded into a meaningless dial tone in the back of Ice’s mind as Maverick came in to straddle his lap. Even breathing became a secondary concern against Maverick’s tongue brushing against his own, his thumbs brushing across his cheekbones, that heartbeat thumping against his own. Ice was left gasping, snatching lungfuls of air in the spare seconds before he willingly sank back into this quiet bliss.

Maverick drew back to yank off his shirt, dog tags rattling. To his surprise, Ice found himself shaking for the first time in nearly a year, like fucking another man was terrifying when a beach full of horror wasn’t. But Maverick caught his hands, pressing kisses to the scarred knuckles, soothing those tremors. Like there was nothing shameful about it.

“Have we done this before?” Ice breathed, voice shaking slightly, like it was struggling to contain all this hunger. 

He wasn’t sure why he asked, why he was wasting time when he could be testing the limits of his repaired shoulder. Maybe he wanted to reassure himself, confirm that this was all part of the plan. That there had been other versions of himself who’d been allowed this brief selfishness. 

And that there would be others after. 

Maverick flashed him a grin, breathless excitement alight on his face, “Kind of…”

“Kind of?” Ice half laughed, voice strained by a poorly held back moan as Maverick rose up enough that he could draw his trousers down. 

Underneath he wasn’t strong but lithe, tightly wired muscle, skin softer than Ice thought possible when he took hold of his hips. He had freckles scattered across his stomach, scars that Ice immediately wanted to know the story behind, a light dusting of dark hair leading down from his navel. He drank every detail in with uncharacteristic greed as his hands slid down to press daringly against the hardness in his boxers. 

“Here’s the thing…” Maverick rolled against that pressure, eyes dark as his pupils swelled, “I’ve been doing the same day over and over for fuck knows how long now. And also much of it is identical, I know exactly what's coming down to every minute…”

The boxers were gone too now, just burning skin against his hand. Things were coming loose, unraveling at the edges but every word of Maverick’s ran right to his heart. 

“But you, Tom Kazansky, no matter how many times I do this…” Maverick moved back so close until they were nose to nose, forehead to forehead, “You never stop surprising me.”

Ice was aware of Maverick’s heartbeat before he was aware of his own.

The other man was burrowed against Ice’s chest like he wanted to live inside his rib cage, his thumping heartbeat a thread that he followed back up into the waking world. It came slow and sluggish, Ice’s body reluctant to stumble out of the first decent sleep he’d had in a long time. Consciousness came in other pieces of Maverick, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. His dark hair ticking Ice’s jaw, his fingers gently resting on his hip, his steady breath across Ice’s collarbone, the skin of his back warmed by the fire, now down to less than embers. 

Ice frowned. If the fire was dead, where was that orange light coming from?

The answer brought a shock like cold water. Outside the window, the sun was setting. 

“Fuck,” Ice bolted upright, giving Maverick a much less gentle awakening as he was nearly tipped onto the floor. 

“What?” he mumbled groggily, trying to still cling to Ice on instinct. 

“We’ve slept too long,” Ice shook his head, scrambling up, reaching for his clothes, “It’s been way more than two hours. Fuck…”

Maverick somehow looked smaller, left in the chair on his own, like some piece of him had left with Ice. The guilt boiling hot in his chest jerked and twisted into sudden anger, why wasn’t he moving, why was he just sitting there, didn’t he know they had a mission to complete?

“Where are the keys to that helicopter?” he demanded, words quick and bitten off like he didn’t even have time for them. 

Mav sat up, wincing a little, “Tom, listen-”

“No,” Ice shook his head firmly, “No, we had our fun but we’re wasting time now, we need to get back to the mission. It’s still going to take us hours to fly to Switzerland and get to the dam. I know you know where the keys are, Maverick, we’ve done this before so tell me and let's go.”

Maverick flinched a little, biting down on his lower lip. He moved for his clothes too, but slower, more gingerly, making Ice want to scream. 

“Look, I’ll tell you where the keys are but you’re going to hear me out first,” Maverick set his jaw desperately, yanking his shirt over his head, “I’ll go. I’ll go to the dam, I’ll wrap this up but you stay here, okay?”

Ice froze in the middle of tying his boots, staring at him in confusion, “Excuse me?”

Maverick had a look on his face like a man standing before a losing battle. Surely something he was familiar with by now. 

“Please, Tom,” he kept using that name, that name Ice didn’t know how to connect to himself anymore, “I…I don’t know how to explain it so you’ll see, can you just trust me? You need to stay here, you can’t go to Switzerland.” 

“What the hell are you talking about, soldier?” Ice narrowed his eyes, aware that there was something he wasn’t quite seeing, something on the edge of his vision that was rushing towards him. 

For the first time since he’d known him, or at least since this version of him had known him, Maverick looked uncertain. More than that, he looked terrified. So much of Ice wanted to take him back in his arms, comfort him and promise him that everything was going to be okay even though he had no idea. But that was exactly the problem. 

So Ice dragged that part of him back into the guilt and the shame and the anger, and focused instead on the fact that Maverick’s eyes kept flickering back to the kitchen. 

He’d said Ice kept surprising him and he proved it now, getting ahead of him, too quick for the hands that tried to reach for his shoulders. Sure enough, there was a set of keys hanging there on the wall, alongside empty hooks that were probably meant to hold the car keys the family that owned the farmhouse escaped with. Ice grabbed them, felt them bite into his tightly closed fists as he marched out of the back door, trying to deafen himself to Maverick’s pleading even as he felt it break his heart. 

“Tom! Tom, for God’s sake, can you stop being the world’s most stubborn bastard for five seconds and look at me!”

Ice turned sharply, trying to imagine his mech suit around him, trying to imagine that he was strong, that nothing could reach him, “Fine. I’m looking at you. Now explain to me why I can’t get in that helicopter and do my goddamn duty.”

Maverick gripped his shoulder, like that alone would be enough to pin Ice down, “Because if you do, you die.” 

His voice actually broke as he said it, like out of all the death he must have seen, others and his own, this was the one he couldn’t take. 

“I’ve tried every single way I can think of, I’ve done everything I can but it never works,” the exhaustion was now obvious on Maverick’s face as he spoke, like Ice could finally see the mark that each run had left on him, “If you get in that helicopter, if you take one more step past this point, you die and I can’t stop it. I’ve reset over and over but every time-”

“Wait,” Ice’s voice was strained and slight, brittle with shock but it stopped Maverick all the same, “You…have you been resetting just because I died?”

Maverick bit his lower lip again, his chest rising, like words were building but he was scared to let them go. It was all the answer Ice needed. 

“Mav…” he swallowed hard, feeling a weight pressing down on his chest, “It’s the whole world at stake here. It’s the whole goddamn world.”

“I know…” Maverick met his eyes, helpless, “But it’s you.”

For the first time, Ice realized that while he’d been broken, burned, crushed repeatedly every time he’d thrown himself at the battle of Verdun, there was a deeper hurt to these endless repeating loops. One he hadn’t ever had to feel because he’d never let himself but Maverick was braver than that. Ice couldn’t even imagine the pain of it, of coming to love him, to know him so deeply, run after run. And to look into each fresh set of Ice’s eyes and know he didn’t feel the same because he just didn’t know Maverick.

“Pete…” Ice tried to steady himself, not even sure what he was about to say. 

But it didn’t matter. Their time was up. 

That sound, that painful inorganic chattering that they knew too well, ripping the still air in two. Ice snapped to attention, turned, put himself between Maverick and the gaining mimics but he was reaching for guns that weren’t there. They’d had their two hours, they’d overstayed their welcome and now they were cornered, their punishment bursting from the ground and rushing towards them. 

“Helicopter!” Mav yelled by Ice’s ear and he obeyed, rushing forward but the mimics were faster, their writhing black forms like glitches in nature itself rising over the roof, skittering over the fence, swarming. 

Ice knew the taste of a doomed run. He knew how this ended. 

But still, in spite of it all, he turned, went backwards rather than forwards, shoved hard. Maverick went stumbling back into the facsimile of safety inside the farmhouse, Ice on his heels, the door slamming shut with death on the other side. It wouldn’t hold for long but Ice didn’t need long. 

As the mimics screamed outside and beat on the walls, he took Maverick’s face in his hands and kissed him, trying to find that peace again. He tasted tears on the other man’s lips, felt his arms shake as they wrapped around him but it was close enough. 

“Listen,” Ice panted, pulling away enough to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Pete but if it comes down to me or the world, you need to choose them. I’m not worth it.”

Maverick’s breath caught as he shook his head, “I wish I didn’t know you.”

“I know,” Ice swallowed hard. Glass broke in the kitchen, they’d found their way inside. They had moments, seconds. 

“I wish I didn’t know you,” Maverick gasped again, “But I do. I know you, Tom.”

Ice didn’t have time to try and figure out what that meant, if the stubborn man in his arms was going to listen or not. It didn’t matter, not to this version of him anyway.

Ice just tried to be glad that this time, he wasn’t alone when he died. 

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

Ice counted his pushups steadily in his head as he rose up and down. If he counted, he wasn’t thinking about the throb of pain in his arms. If he counted, he was apart from the air of tension about the military base, the taste of fear in the air as the next morning’s attack crept closer. It was all uneasy jokes, too loud laughter, brittle smiles. It would all turn to screams by tomorrow as soon as they hit that beach.

Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. 

He’d been training by himself in the hangar all afternoon, excusing himself from the drills the fresh meat were doing. No one said anything, they never did. No one was about to try and pull rank on the Angel of Verdun, they just studied him the way they always did, a little apprehensively, like they were trying to learn the secret to survival in the few seconds as he strode past them. The thought had just enough grim humor to it to curl the edges of his mouth into a smile. 

Eighteen. Nineteen…twenty…twenty one…

Footsteps. Ringing out loudly across the metal floor of the hangar where he trained, interrupting his rhythm. Ice turned, teeth already bared in frustration. 

“Yes?” he rose to his feet, ready to unleash his irritation. 

It took him a moment to place Captain ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, he’d never seen him in the flesh, only projected up on a screen, leaning back in a TV studio with that inherently punchable grin and wearing his uniform like a costume. Well, it didn’t seem as though the United Defence Force’s poster boy was doing so well, walking up to him a little too fast with a shell shocked expression and a rumbled uniform that looked very obviously naked, stripped of its insignias. Maybe not Captain, then. Private. Which meant Ice didn’t have to put up with any bullshit. 

“Who let you in here?” he bristled, hoping the guy would just turn and go running. 

But this Maverick didn’t even slow, just walking right up to Ice, far closer than he was comfortable with. Until he stopped, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, the strangest expression on his face, like he’d been following the steps of a dance and the music had just cut out. 

“Well?” Ice stepped back, unnerved. What the hell was wrong with this guy?

“Sargeant Kazansky…” Maverick began but trailed off, brow furrowing a little. 

“You’ve found him,” Ice tilted his head, something oddly familiar about the look on his face. 

But Maverick just shook his head, a decision clear on his face, “Sorry. Never mind. Didn’t mean to bother you, Sergeant.”

And he left Ice with that, turning on his heel and walking out. Ice was seized by the sudden desire to call out, get him to stop, grab his shoulder and make him explain, the oddest sensation like the train he needed was pulling away from the station without him on it. But Maverick was gone before he could decide whether or not to follow that mad impulse, disappearing into the square of daylight at the mouth of the hangar. 

Ice exhaled softly, the irritation burned away but nothing to fill the space it had occupied in his chest. He told himself to let go of it, making himself shrug and sink back down to the floor. Whatever was wrong with Maverick, he didn’t have the time to deal with it. Tomorrow was on its way, whether they liked it or not and every second was going to count. 

No one knew that better than Ice. 

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 022: The Master Plan of the Molten Man... and Dracula is also there (ASM 132-133, GSSM 1)

MASTERPOST

In this duo, we see an old friend... or two. And then, we meet a vampire. OoOoOh~!

I really enjoy the Molten Man's new design! Gorgeous cover.

It may be January in the Marvel-verse, but we're in May 74, publication-wise!

Liz is back! Hasn't been seen since issue 30, which explains why I keep mistaking Betty and her.

I don't know why, but I remembered this specific (and very ugly) maid. Poor lady.

Anyway, Raxton is hot, there I said it, we can get on.

When I first saw those panels, I thought it was exactly like how Romita would draw Liz... then I checked the credits again... and it's him! His soapy style is gorgeous as ever. Peter says she never got on with MJ, but given that MJ appeared for the first real time in #42... I don't know what he's on. The art of the retcon!

Ned, who's investigating the maid's intel on Raxton, almost dies as Raxton (actually the Molten Man) makes his room explode. I like that Ned (and the rest of the cast) are more involved! I miss them.

The Molten Man has apparently not been seen since #35, which checks out. It's the occasion for the artists to put gold, which is a shade we don't see so much.

Look, is this a safe space? Can I say what's on my mind?

The feet are really nice. I'm not particularly into feet (I know, TMI) but I'm really impressed by how it looks good. And the rest of Raxton's body is obviously quite well-done too. I'm not saying that Spider-Man comics made me gay, but they sure aren't beating the allegations.

Ned is very badly aged, but I like the damsel in distress look.

Raxton's radiation has a bad influence on Peter's metabolism, and he might very well die by the next issue...

Oh, who are we kidding?

In the readers' letters, it seems like Gwen's death has now mostly been forgiven, and someone is praising MJ--and she deserves it!

Even men want to see more of Peter! I'm afraid the situation isn't exactly adapted, however.

As a matter of fact, Spidey has already planned to party in a sauna with another man. Better luck next time!

(I love those smoke effects.)

Liz reveals that Raxton is her brother, which I completely forgot about.

We rarely see that kind of comedy, hahaha.

So. Um. It's a classic story of Spidey kind of being a jerk. Um. So Liz's brother is dead. For now. Maybe. Oof.

In the comments, there's also people talking about Russia's attack on Ukraine. Gerry Conway's run is really provocative, huh! I'm kind of loving it. His shaking of the status quo, not the attack.

I wonder if we'll get to see Liz's reaction :(

I'll do Giant-Size 1 later, it's currently more than 3 am. Hey, do you know what we'll get next time? A big batch... and Harry's big moment as, you know, the, the...!

Oh, you'll just have to wait!

______________________________________________________________

And here's the late addendum of Giant-Size Spider-Man #1!

I'm into that, actually!

So May's dying again (isn't she always?) and Peter needs to get her a vaccine. Ross Andru thus entertains us with a brilliant perspective shot.

Their homoeroticism never fails. Reading the summary of Marvel Team-Up 23 actually was a treat, because I finally got the answer to a years-old question of mine: did Iceman really rob a bank in the first few pages of this issue?

No, he didn't, folks!

Yes, you're getting a ton of screenshots for this part, since I know there's no more issue in this batch after this one.

Anyway, Dracula... Could you please breed me?

To me, Peter and Dracula crossing paths was like, an interplanetary event. It gave me chills. In fact, it still does and I think I should write Peter/Dracula smut now so thank you to the whole team, you've made a mess out of my brain, ARE YOU HAPPY?!? (It is 3 am.)

At least three factions are out there to find Maxfield, either to kill him (Dracula), use him for bartering (the Whisperer and Simian), and naturally Peter just wants to heal his aunt.

I remember that exact cosplay!!!! Funny what the brain remembers and doesn't. Sir, if you thirst so much, maybe I could come to your aide. You just need to ask. Okay, that's actually optional.

The Whisperer's men have a run in with Dracula and think he's Maxfield, which totally offends Dracula. As revenge, he decides to homosexualize his assailants.

Muahahaha.

The writing team then attempts to gaslight me into thinking Dracula isn't hot as fuck.

They're not doing a good job, I can tell you.

A woman is attacked by Dracula, Peter hears her, alerts the captain, who makes Dr. Maxfield come... and Simian follows them.

The fake Hawkgirl attacks one of them and is knocked unconscious. They escape with the man, Peter escapes too...

I'm all giddy!!!!!! Don't know why, but I love that "oh it's not the end yet... or rather, at all! I'm loving this romp. It's a complete joy.

In a great feat of misdirection, Simian and his men find Spider-Man... but actually, he's just a rando in a costume! That's funny and foreshadowed (given that everyone's in a costume anyway). And if I remember, this isn't the only misdirection...

The guy on the right is a fun one.

Meanwhile, Dracula is just as uncomfortable watching Babylon's first 10 minutes as I was. (It's a great movie, go watch it.)

Great mise-en-scène! The Whisperer has trapped the guy, but a bat follows... and hits Simian with its gay ray. Hurray!

Gosh, Dracula is such a girlboss. "I have been harassed--attacked--INSULTED..." Iconic.

Dracula eventually escapes, convinced that he just threw Maxfield overboard... but Spidey caught fake Robin Hood!

And thus, the biggest twist arises!

What a girlboss too.

And that's how it ends. A stellar issue! Loved it.

[callsign-jinx]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! Oh my goodness!!! Checkmate (Part I) is A M A Z I N G !!!!!!!

Long message incoming again...

""McGee, she said she didn't see anything." Jake, who is standing next to you, glares at the agent and tells him to stop asking questions.", "You turn in the hospital gurney you've been sitting in since Jake brought you there. He didn’t accept "no" for an answer, and once he felt the swelling in the back of your head, where the kidnapper had hit you, he rushed you to the ER.", "Jake hadn't left you once in all the time you'd been in the hospital, his hand always on yours, wedding bands in constant contact." - first of all, protective and attentive husband Jake is everything. 💗

""If he doesn't get his knight back…"", ""...he will turn the pawn into a knight.""- this is so brilliant and the description and symbolism is so well done, and ah, just love it!

"“If you didn’t run away, Liam wouldn’t exist. So please, stop blaming yourself.” You reassure him, trying to make him understand that this is not his fault. “Jake, I wouldn’t change a thing in my life. I would choose you in every single lifetime.”" - reassuring Jake is also everything, and I love these moments. The devotion and love between them is beautiful 💗

"“I’m sorry. I swore that you’d be safe here and I didn’t keep my word.”" - aww, poor Iceman blaming himself 🥺

"“I don’t care about what the NCIS says, Red. I’m not gonna stay here and wait for them to bring my kid back.” He barks, almost throwing the phone against the wall. Lucky for Ice, he manages to get it from Jake’s hands in time." - protective dad Jake is also also everything. Glad he didn't damage Ice's property tho

"“Sarge, well, Payback’s wife, bought it. I sewed a hidden pocket in every single one of his pants, and I’ve been hiding it, just in case.”" - that is so smart!!!! I am in awe, this is brilliant!

""Take my bike. Go get your son." Mav stuffs a hand in his pocket, reaching for his motorcycle keys." - we love supportive Mav in this household!!!

"After hearing the female voice, you turn around to see Sarge and Payback standing there with the rest of the Daggers behind them. You can feel your chest swell with pride at the people in front of you, your family, who have always claimed that when the time comes, they’ll be with you, for better or worse. And here they are." - this warms my heart so much, it is so wholesome and beautiful, all the family coming together like that. Absolutely heartmelting! 🥹🥹🥹

"“I will punch the next one that says that.” He grunts, lifting his eyes from the floor to glare at Rooster. “And you know how much it hurts.”" - I know it is a tense moment, but I couldn't help but laugh at this, poor Rooster. But it is also completely understandable that Jake is sick of hearing people tell him it's not his fault

"He knows you’re going to insist on coming with him. He can’t have two babies in that house.", "Jake grabs you softly by the arm, turning you around. “I can’t put another baby at risk.”", "“Yes, I'm pregnant. But Jake, you need me.” You insist, ignoring the excited laughs from the daggers. “You can’t go there alone. He won’t let you go.”" - the protectiveness of both of them!!! My heart!!! I love how you show their love, care and devotion for each other and it always fills my heart with so much love, it is so beautiful!!! And I love how you are able to bring a bit of levity through the Daggers' reaction, making it even more wholesome! Amazing!!! 💗💗💗

And then this: - "You press a hand against his chest, closing your eyes and preparing yourself for the next words you’re going to say. “Jake, we can make another baby. But there’s only one you.”" - this!!!!!!! THIS!!!!!!!! My goodness!!!! It both breaks my heart and makes it swell, because it is such a devastating thought, but shows the depth Red's love for Jake so incredibly beautifully and puts it on whole other level. I can't even find words to describe it, just beautiful, beautiful writing!!! 💗💗💗💗💗

""I went to the station and got you vests. You’ll be okay. You have everything you need in the truck.”" - Sarge, you wonderful woman!!! I love her 💗

""If anything happens to you now that I have you back..." His voice falters, cracking with unshed tears that break the remains of your heart.", "“Nothing will happen to me.” You promise him, kissing him softly while all the voices in your head scream at you, calling you a liar." - this better not be foreshadowing!!! Nah, just kidding, I love it either way, the tension and fear and all are so good!!! You present them incredibly well!

"You whisper something in her ear, something you can’t hear, and she nods, pushing both of you inside the elevator once the doors open." - omg, I wonder what Red told Doc

""Liam is the main priority, Red. He won't hurt him or me. He needs us, you said it yourself."", ""Why is he so desperate? Why does he need an heir so bad?"" - Liam being the main priority!!!! My heart. Love mama and papa bear Seresin! And it is a good question. Could Gregory be dying?? (He sure is now, after kidnapping Liam...) I guess we'll find out why he is desperate.

""You won't have to pull the trigger."" - oh hoho, the weight of this!!!! Love it

"You suit up quietly, not even speaking when you need his help to close the vest, or to help you wrap your hands. A soft touch on his arm is enough for him to know that you need him. It's similar to when you're cooking at home—soft touches to catch the other person's attention, no need for words. It's always been like this. And a part of you seems to find comfort in the fact that even at the worst moments, you're still in sync." - beautiful!!!! Wholesome!!!! Love the cooking simile!!!! 💗💗💗

"He nods, kissing your forehead, your nose, and your lips in that order. You've always wondered how a final kiss before a battle felt, if it was truly filled with all the emotions you couldn't express aloud in such a short period of time. It is probably the best kiss you've ever had." - again, incredible!!! 💗💗💗💗💗 So, so so good!!!!

"you can't see a single trace of Jake in them. That's Hangman. Fierce, determined, and deadly." - I love the distinction between Jake and Hangman, it say so much in so few words - such a great move!!!!

""Let's go get Liam," he says, cocking his gun." - LET'S GO!!!!!!

Amazing, incredible, stunning, totally unique, wonderful, show stopping, awesome, incredible-

I could go on and on. What a masterpiece, my Love, absolutely breathtaking!!!

Lots of love and many hugs to you!! 💗💗💗💗

(italics anon 💚)

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of miscarriage.

My beautiful italics babe, you're always making the right questions hahahah But let me comment something first.

And then this: - "You press a hand against his chest, closing your eyes and preparing yourself for the next words you’re going to say. “Jake, we can make another baby. But there’s only one you.”" - this!!!!!!! THIS!!!!!!!! My goodness!!!! It both breaks my heart and makes it swell, because it is such a devastating thought, but shows the depth Red's love for Jake so incredibly beautifully and puts it on whole other level. I can't even find words to describe it, just beautiful, beautiful writing!!! 💗💗💗💗💗

I was a bit scared about that part, to be honest. It's so common to see on TV, movies and books how the mom always says 'save the baby, save the baby'. It's a month old. It's literally smaller than a grain of rice. And Red knows that with all the stress of Liam being kidnapped, chances of having a miscarriage are high as fuck. If I was in Red's position, I would have done the exact same thing. Red is a very protective woman when it comes to her family, but she literally just found out -not even twelve hours ago- that she's pregnant, it's not even a baby, just a fetus. There's priorities in here. She can stay behind and protect a grain of rice, or she can go and protect her son and husband. Is clear for her. And that's why she says: we can make another baby, but there's only one you. It's the 'final battle' and she needs to be there, to make sure that nobody gets hurt.

I was afraid, due to the whole pro-life/pro-choice world be live in right now that this would cause some negative comments. But then again, this is my story, this is my character, and I can do whatever I want with her. If someone doesn't like it, there's the door.

""Liam is the main priority, Red. He won't hurt him or me. He needs us, you said it yourself."", ""Why is he so desperate? Why does he need an heir so bad?"" - Liam being the main priority!!!! My heart. Love mama and papa bear Seresin! And it is a good question. Could Gregory be dying?? (He sure is now, after kidnapping Liam...) I guess we'll find out why he is desperate.

That's a good question, love. A really good question!

Lots of love to you, too, dear. 💚💚💚💚💚

[ariel-seagull-wings]

Hey Ariel!

Since you know a lot about X-Men ships and romance, I figured you could help me out with this.

So I'm currently working on another fanfiction titled "Spider-Man: Family Values".

The series focused on the adventures of the friendly neighborhood wall crawler as literally what everyone on the planet has been asking for him to be: a husband and a father.

Accompanied by his 5-year old daughter Mayday, along with Shadow Spider (Miles), Venom, Agent Anti-Venom, Silk and Black Cat, Spidey finds him going on all kinds of adventures with the faces of the much greater Marvel Universe.

Basically, it's kinda like Batman: The Brave and the Bold.

And among his most recurring allies, would be none other than The X-Men.

As for their status in this world, they've actually made progress in furthering human-mutant relations.

And they've even made the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters available for human students now.

But just like Peter, a lot of them have gotten with a special someone, tied the knot, and/or started a family (among their already large family).

As for the team themselves, it consists of….

-Cyclops -Storm -Wolverine -Jean -Beast -Rogue -Gambit -Jubilee -Nightcrawler -Colossus -Iceman -Psylocke -Angel -Emma Frost -Shadowcat -Bishop -Firestar -Morph -Chat (who was an original character from the Marvel Adventures comics)

As for the couples I already have planned, these include: Scott x Jean, Rogue x Remy, and Kitty x Illyana.

Scott and Jean are married and have a son in the form of Nathan.

And I must emphasize this…..

Nathan is Scott and Jean's CHILD!

Not the child between Scott and a clone of Jean.

Also, Nathan will actually get to grow up with his parents instead of being sent to the future.

Rogue and Remy are also married, with Remy expressing interest in having kids.

And Kitty and Illyana are just dating.

As for everyone else….

Ororo would either be with Wren (who just like NM, is a female), Thor or Valkyrie.

As for Wren, besides Ororo, she would be with either Kurt, Betsy or Chat.

And speaking of Thor, besides Ororo, I thought of pairing him with either Jane Foster or Sif.

Logan would be with either Morph or Mariko.

As for Morph, it would have to be Logan.

Henry would either be with Abigail Brand, Cecelia Reyes, Carly Crocker or Emma.

As for Emma, besides Henry, she would be with either Piotr, Betsy or Chat.

As for Piotr, besides Emma, he would be with either Bobby or Lorna.

As for Betsy, besides Emma, she would be with Wren.

Bobby, besides Piotr, would probably be with The Human Torch.

Kurt, besides Wren, would probably be with Cerise or Pietro.

Speaking of Pietro, besides Kurt, he would probably be with Crystal (who I thought of pairing with Torch).

Chat would definitely be with either Wren or Emma.

Angelica would either be with Marvel Boy or Lorna.

And finally for Bishop….I honestly connect think of any love interest for him.

So I may have him be asexual in this series.

But anyway, for the X-Men I gave pairing choices for, who do you think would be the best option for them?

Also, if you have an option for Bishop, let me know.

@s10127470

Please, don't pair poor Pietro with Crystal!

The Inhumans overall are terrible news, but Crystal specially, if you already find the love triangles annoying, Crystal will give you an aneurism: You know the character who can't live with stability and always searches for drama to make their lives more exciting, in the proccess hurting the people around who care about them?

That is Crystal, the poster for that type of character! Her marriage to Pietro (which happened after Crystal cheated on Johnny with a wounded Pietro) was awful, with him constantly trying to impress her family, only for her to cheat on him because "he isn't giving him and her daughter enough attention", and the two getting forced to be together because she is from a royal family that frowns on divorce as scandalous before (finally) getting a divorce.

He was close to Avalanche in some encarnations (mainly Evolution and Wolverine and the X Men), so they have potential as a coupling with a dynamic inspired by the Bishop and Rook of Chess Games: Pietro as the Bishop who can move diagonally, Avalanche as the heavy Tower who has movements limited to horizontal or vertical without jumping.

Since Next Mutation already explores the Wren/Ororo pairing, here in family values you can explore the Wren/Betsy pairing.

In the Exiles, Morph had romantic feelings for a version of Mariko (who was from an alternative timeline where she was a mutant with the powers of her cousin Shiro), so I can see Logan, Mariko and Morph in an open polyamorous relationship, raising Jubilee as their child.

Pyro is the Human Torch of the X-Men, and he can be a great pairing for Iceman (Bobby).

In this continuity, making it more distinctive from the Animated Series/Further Adventures/97, Hank McCoy and Cecília Reyes are great characters to explore as a stable married couple who connected trough their love of science and helping others, with one being an adventurous field hero and the other favoring to stay in guard as a medic (and I also can collaborate with you in helping to create a kid for them).

Ariana DeBose could be a great inspiration for Cecília's design:

I can see Piotr and Lorna having a dynamic where he was her bodyguard and she fell in love with him while showing she could be his equal partner in battle rather than always having to be protected.

Can I also suggest exploring Kurt and Ororo as a couple? Dave Cockrum would surely enjoy the idea...

Bonus: give Nightcrawler a costume inspired by his Uncanny Spider Man uniform.

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

Okay, so the idea of "Maverick, Mavericking?" I think that's really the perfect description for any of his antics at pretty much any time in his life. 😅 All anyone should have to say from now on is "Maverick, Mavericking" and it will forever qualify as explanation enough, despite being only two words (here I am, speaking as though I have any control over the TG fandom and their interpretation of words when I very clearly do not, lol. But I'm pretty sure that you know what I'm trying to get at, here!)

And he knows. Maverick. KNOWS. I must confess, I'm half-thrilled at all of the potential pestering angles this opens up as Tom and Thorn get to spend more time together. We know Pete isn't going to just ignore a chance to tease the poor man, wingman or not, and I happen to be a tiny bit diabolical in my adoration for any opportunity to see Ice even a little flustered. All of that said, though, I do have to hold some small piece of sympathy for him, knowing exactly how relentless Mav can be. And given that he's still the 'Iceman' that we all know and love, I'm sure he'll have some amusing one-liners of his own coming up.

Of course, now we come up to my already overwhelming obsession with Thorn and Ice, even with the small snippets of banter between them that we've been given thus far! Even before the description of her time going up against Jester, it was clear that she can definitely hold her own with Tom, without allowing him to intimidate her even a little bit. So needless to say I'm really looking forward to what happens when you put those two up against one another in the air!

I'm a flailing mess as usual after reading this, my dear! I can't wait to see what you do next!

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), 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

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!

I have a faceclaim for some of the characters, which I will post separately, although I have to note that for others, I couldn’t think of anyone, so if anyone has any suggestions, I’m all ears, feel free to blast my inbox with your suggestions!

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

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

[positivelybeastly]

Plot Wishlist

General:

Any X-characters, but especially Storm, Shadowkat, Cyclops, Iceman, Jean Grey, Abigail Brand, Havok, Dazzler, Colossus, Mr. Sinister, Charles Xavier, Magneto, Sabretooth, et al.

Verse specific plots below.

Feline Hank:

Decimation/Utopia-era plots, perhaps including a PTSD recovery arc for Hank after his torture at the hands of Norman Osborn. Poor guy was literally having flashbacks at the drop of a hat and the best he got was a 'you're the rock, so idk just cope better' speech - would love to dive into this.

Fun, shippy things! Hank is a loveable fella, but utterly bereft of actual self-esteem - tons of ego and bluster, but self-esteem? Wrong house, miss - and I love to see him reconcile the often inflated mental portrait he has of others with his diabolical self-image.

Mutant cure. Hank has a vial of it just sitting in a freezer. All it takes is one particularly bad day.

Post-Intervention Hank:

Anything with any X-character, diving into the period of time between All-New X-Men and Krakoa. Hank screwed up, majorly, and his emotional state is ridiculously fractious - engage with him on this! Force him to change! Or let's have blazing arguments! Let's do both, fuck it!

Inhuman + Kang interactions! Hank was only with them for a short period of time in the grand scheme of things, but I dearly love that he made friends during his time here, and it breaks my heart that he felt like he couldn't go back after Inhumans vs. X-Men.

Avengers:

Defenders interactions! Especially Isaac Christians (Gargoyle), Patsy Walker (Hellcat) and Heather Douglas (Moondragon). I love this team - they're such a weird, kooky team of misfists and emotionally damaged individuals.

Threnody. I'm tired of talking about her as the first brick in the wall for Hank's downfall - let's talk about her as a character, let's engage with the situation, let's call Hank out, let's let him off the hook, let's do something with it!

X-Force:

Any and all members of the Quiet Council, perhaps a thread making sense of Beast's numerous karma houdinis. My portrayal of X-Force Beast diverges from the cartoon character you've seen in Percy's books, but I still want to engage with the situations he must've found himself in and write them like an adult. Let's get political, let's get complicated, let's get cruel, why not?

Any and all interactions where an old friend asks Beast what the hell he's doing and what happened to him. I just want someone to care that Beast has hollowed out his soul and decided it's easier to not care.

Irredeemable Beast:

Pretty much anything, but the tone of this verse suits Fall of X-themed plots and character development over all else. I have an in-progress fic about this verse that I'm working on - I can't tell you how overjoyed I'd be to talk about it with someone. Let's talk redemption, let's talk punishment, let's talk justice, let's talk masochism, let's talk death wishes!

Dark Beast:

Any Age of Apocalypse characters.

A duplicate Hank, tbh!

The guy's a stinker, abuse him, please.

Battle of the Atom:

Any of the time displaced X-Men, future X-Men, or members of the Jean Grey and Charles Xavier School faculty. This version of Hank is so broken and so tragic and so pitiable. Let's engage with that. Let's talk about the future, let's talk about optimism, let's talk about broken faith and mind control and hatred.

President Blaire. If you know, you know.

And obviously, all of the X-characters mentioned above, or hell, any member of the extended X-family, would be much loved as an intersection with all of these plots!

And keep in mind, if you aren't one of these characters, that doesn't mean any of this plot material is off limits to you! Message me, ask me, let's work something out. I crave good character dynamics, hmu. I want to write with you, or I wouldn't be here.

[spacegayover]

SPOILER PICs FROM FROZEN2(?) [ well it's not a spoiler but still]

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO THOUGHT ABOUT THIS WHILE WATCHING THAT SCENE?