#ice will eat all of it though because he loves mav

[unlawfulchaos]

Mav: Did you like my pancakes?

Ice: Yeah, they were lovely.

Slider: That's a lie. You said he used too much cinnamon.

Ice: Don't listen to him, he's an idiot.

Mav: Did you like the omelette I made you?

Ice: Yes, it was delicious.

Slider: You said it tasted like feet.

Mav: Do you like any of my cooking, Ice?

Ice: I like your grilled cheese.

Slider: You said he burned it last night.

Ice: Jesus fucking Christ, Slider! Shut the hell up!

[mitchellpete]

Dating Maverick (Headcanons)

summary: What dating Mav is like. (In ‘86 and in TG:M)

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x gn!reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst

word count: 1278

A/N: if anybody wants a drabble/one-shot or for me to expand on any one of these (or if you wanna just talk about or exchange hcs), drop me an inbox! 

-

1986 (and a few years after-ish)

Maverick is a very gentle lover. It didn’t seem so at first, with how cocky and flirty he might’ve been to catch your attention, but after the second date? So vulnerable and soft with you.

He can sing! Like actually super well. You noticed one day and now you ask him to sing when you can’t sleep. He was kind of self-conscious at first, used to singing with Goose in a playful, rowdy manner, as opposed to softly to you. He grew more comfortable as time passed, and now he likes to sing you his mother’s favorite songs.

But also gets incredibly obnoxious sometimes and will loudly impersonate Elvis while you’re trying to get something done.

Spontaneous road trips on his motorcycle (when he’s able). Dinner in Oceanside. Lunch in Palm Springs. A pick up in Vegas. A day in Phoenix. When? Now! Now?!

Knows the Southwest like the back of his hand, actually. It’s not as fun as flying, but driving through the wide, open stretch of desert with you clinging behind him is one of his absolute favorite pastimes.

Is from somewhere in the Southwest, therefore he absolutely hates the cold. Will have the heater on in the winter time and is not opposed to getting wrapped up in blankets by you. You tease him on how easily cold he gets, and he’ll playfully go “Whatever.”

You frequently find random candid photos of you. Taped to his wall, to his fridge, suddenly framed on his bedside table. He almost never mentions them until you laugh and point them out, to which he responds, “I thought you looked pretty there.” (With a shit-eating grin.)

Definitely has one in his F-14, by the way.

Is very stubborn about his attire. Very insistent on dressing like a cowboy at all times. You had to buy him his first pair of beach shorts.

Loves seeing you in his clothes; he’s crazy about it, actually.

Very cute lunch dates. He knows the best diners.

He likes taking you out for ice cream. Sometimes you share a cone and watch the sunset and the planes soaring through the sky. 

He’s the best kisser. He prefers soft, sensual kissing and it definitely has its effect on you.

He has a habit of leaving paper planes everywhere. Some with love notes in them, others with funny doodles. Sometimes it’s just both of your names written, a little heart in between. 

He rambles a lot. He’s very, very passionate about flying, and about his plane. Though you might not know what he’s talking about, nodding along with a simple smile and asking him a few questions makes him so happy. “Well, no, you see..” And then he goes on and on again. 

At the same time, Maverick can be difficult sometimes. Especially after Goose. Sometimes he feels he needs to be alone, but don’t take it personally. He appreciates your support, but he’s been conditioned to “suck it up and move on.” It weighs on him to have to try, so expect him to be a bit quieter at times, a bit slower. You can sit around with him as he sulks, your head on his shoulder to let him know you need him, and that he’s loved. That he doesn’t have to isolate.

You get to watch him visibly becoming Bradley’s father figure. 

“Hey, about tomorrow’s date. Can I bring the kid?” 

Melting when he’s got Bradley in his lap in front of you, making airplane noises with a french fry to watch Bradley giggle and clap. Your heart swells at how good he is with him.

“Pete.. You can’t take him to watch that movie; it’s not for kids.” His signature grin. “Carole won’t mind.”

-

TG:M

Still sings to you. Or, in general, really. He likes to hum while making you breakfast.

He writes all your dates on his calendar. 

He’s very playful with you. Likes making you double over in laughter because it usually results in you wrapping your arms around him and kissing him.

But he also enjoys when you tease him. Tell him there’s something he can’t do as well as he used to and boy, he will prove you wrong. He insists he’s getting better with age.

He’s still as flirty as ever. Except, you’re already dating, so he does it to watch how flustered you get. He loves making you blush.

He likes pet names. Sweetheart and honey are the ones he calls you the most.

He still does not like proper beach attire. Will roll up his jeans and call it a day.

He loves beach days with you, though. He likes laying back on the sand and watching you sunbathe, or play in the water.

You’re almost scared of phone calls now, with the way you’ve been called and informed of the accidents he’s been in while testing his planes. Though most are minor, you can’t help but worry that the next one might not be.

You’ve cried to him a couple times, making him promise he’ll be careful.

He’s a bigger cuddler at his older age, with the habit of pulling you from where you stand, from whatever you’re doing, and tugging you into bed with him.

He likes it when you play with his hair. It’ll lull him to sleep sometimes. Especially when you gently massage at his scalp, and bonus if you’re giving him kisses too. The fastest way to get him asleep, truly.

Alternatively, he also likes playing with yours. He’ll randomly twirl a strand when you’re in front of him, will tuck another behind your ear, will softly intertwine his fingers in it while you lay on him. 

When he’s able, sleeping in together. As often as he can. 

He notices you so well. If something is bothering you, he’ll make sure to find out what it is. He’s also a very good problem solver (duh, but with mundane things too). You feel like he deals with a lot, so you don’t always take every single one of your problems to him, but boy, when he figures out something is wrong? Expect him to walk you through the simplest of things if that’s what you need. He has an unbelievable amount of patience with you. And if it’s something he can’t help with, he’ll at least want to be there with you as you deal with it. He can be the best listener if you need him to be.

Is a lot more domestic and able to settle down. Likes the idea of having a “home” with you. (Not that he didn’t when he was younger, but he feels more grounded now. More grown up. Able to breathe a bit better.)

He makes your coffee just the way you like it. If he’s up before you, he always wakes you up with it, and a kiss on the forehead.

The days spent in his hangar. 

Sometimes, in the summer, a late night thunderstorm will pass through, and there’s nothing more thrilling than cuddling up to him in the trailer, the both of you giggling at the sound of the rain pattering and the loud cracks of thunder. 

But also the days! Though he’ll be occupied with something, you’re always a mere 10 feet away, reading or sketching or entertaining yourself in whatever way you can. Other times you just watch him work. Other times you ask him to tell you his infamous stories, or about his dad. He’ll have sort of a sad smile as he talks, but you know that he loves talking about the past. You make sure to always make room for it in the tranquility of the desert.

[mavernick2]

erev rosh hashanah is almost apon us and as a jew, i want to drop some high holiday hc’s for the kazansky-mitchell-bradshaw household!

ice is ashkenazi jewish, wether it be russian or polish or whatever you want, he falls under being an ashkenazi jew. he’s also not religious, but he feels very strongly about customs and actively takes part in the high holidays.

when tom first brought the shofar out, pete and a very young bradley could not for the life of them work out why on earth tom owned a ram’s horn. it was only when tom gave a small tekiah blast (which had both pete and bradley jump into each other’s arms, which didn’t end up well) that they even realised it could make a noise.

contrary to popular belief, pete mitchell can cook. he just has both autism and adhd and so gets distracted and ends up burning everything. he loves to help tom cook the rosh hashanah meal, even though most of it he spends trying to kiss tom, who is frantically running around the kitchen trying to make it exactly how it was when he was growing up.

if bradley has school on erev/rosh hashanah, tom packs him a dinner full of sweet things. bradley likes to flex on his friends, as they’re all eating sandwiches and he’s digging into donuts and has a huge pot of honey for his apple.

pete loves to help tom build the sukkah. they don’t spend that much time in it together because of busy schedules and bradley’s schooling, but they try and have dinner together in it.

yom kippur is a holiday that tom likes to partake in by himself. it’s one of the few times in a year where he actually goes to a synagogue, and he uses it to reflect. bradley and pete don’t fast, but they sit and break tom’s own fast with him. (bagels!)

some of the first one on one time that tom spent with bradley was attending the annual simchat torah parade in san diego. it started a tradition for them that only stopped when bradley’s papers were pulled. after bradley reconnects with mav, he tries to with tom, and one of the ways he did that was inviting tom to attend the parade once more.

jewish ice is v special to me and i have a lot more hc’s if you guys ever want more!

[orchidvk]

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

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

I hope you like it anyway.

Warnings: swearing

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

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

"Yeah?"

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

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

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

Promise me, please."

"I promise..."

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

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

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

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

"You...? You did what?"

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

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

Please, you have to understand, Tom."

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tears are falling freely now.

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

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

"I never forced you to stay, Ice.

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

That was a low blow that hit Iceman hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course, Baby Goose. What happened?"

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

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

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

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

And he was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

Maverick remembers it like it was yesterday.

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn't come off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know it does...."

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

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

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

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

Maverick intertwined their hands.

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

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

[benboulette]

Some of my Icemav headcanons frfr

Every friday they cook together and they choose which kind of cuisine they wanna eat every monday, they listen to music on an old vinyl player that they got from mavs parents and they got the vinyls from ice's parents as an anniversary present. All the vinyls are old cheesy 60s

love songs and they like to dance while cooking whenever one of their favourite songs comes on no matter what theyre doing. It doesnt matter if the foods about to burn if be my baby comes on theyre are grooving to it while singing off key.

Along with the songs, they memorized eachothers favourite songs just by observing how the other acts depending on what song comes on. Mav could tell that ice always liked slow songs more because whenever they came on ice would hum and bop his head more than the other songs (he also loves Frank Sinatra and The Ronettes)

Ice could tell Mav was more into bittersweet love songs that sounded more upbeat although it was harder for ice to figure that out since Mav seemed to sing along with his whole heart to every single song they ever listened to, but whenever his favourites came on Mav would move a lot more and genuinely just smile a lot mroe while singing.

The day that the ban on gay people in the navy was lifted (December 21, 1993) they slow danced in Ice's office while kinda just crying in eachothers arms because they were so happy that they didnt have to hide how much they loved eachother anymore (ofc they didnt immediately announce it infront of everyone but they def had to hide less and got to be more open about it even though everyone already had an idea)

Mav's ringtone for ice is literally the song "ice ice baby" and it has been since the song was released.

Sarah was Tom's lesbian friend and they would rant to eachother about the ppl they had crushes on bc they were the only queer ppl they were aware existed around them. (they were actually surrounded by gay ppl they just didnt know)

Mav and Ice used to try to make eachother listen to new artists atleast every month and in that tradition they discovered Joe Dassin which ended up being their favourite artist to listen to together and they always sing his songs in a really bad french. Their first dance at their marriage ended up even being to "Et si tu n'existais pas".

Ice tried to learn guitar with Goose (goose side headcanon: he plays almost every instrument in existence, like if he wasnt in the navy he would be a music teacher in highschool) but Nick didn't tell him that Mav already knew how to play after having played in a band with him and slider in highschool all together. Mav (voc. and guit.) Goose (bass and backup voc.) Slider (drums) and Ice learnt through Slider that Mav knew how to play guitar infinitely better than him after slider caught him trying to learn a love song he was gonna play when he wanted to ask Mav to officially be his boyfriend.

Every. single. time. one of them got deployed the night before they would ALWAYS spend the night together listening to music and dancing the whole time, they always made their last dance "Till Then" by The Mills Brothers and they always cried no matter what.

Mav is an ugly fucking crier and gets snot everywhere but since Ice started being there where ever he was he would always use his shirt as a kleenex so when Ice isnt around when Mav cries he is completely lost and just slimes everywhere.

Before they were official Mav caught Ice singing "If I Loved You" by Dick Haymes in his office once and when he heard him singing he literally felt his heart skip a beat and now he asks Ice to sing for him a lot more than Ice would like. (He likes the way Mav's eyes light up every time he sings for Mav) and before Ice lost his voice he recorded himself singing for Mav and it made Mav ugly cry when he found out abt it

Ice has a journal and he writes about Mav and Mav only in it. Mav found it and cried again.

Ice and Mav keep matching pictures of eachother in their helmets bc Ice refused to get those necklaces that can have pictures inside with Mav so they settled on that bc it was still risky to get caught. They eventually evolved to them just bringing a full sized picture of eachother in the plane anytime they went flying. They also keep pictures of eachother in their wallets and while he doesn't admit it Ice was the happiest he ever was when he could finally stop hiding the picture of them he kept in his office and being able to grow his collection of pictures of them as his office also got bigger was his biggest accomplishment in his own eyes

Wehenever they would fight or something, Mav did the cliche of showing up infront of ices house with a boombox to sing as an apology for Ice, Carol and Goose went with him as his backup vocalists and it always worked.

Once while Mav was on a mission, he got hit (he was fine in the end and someone called his parachute) and Ice was listening to the comms on the ship and as soon as he heard that Mav was hit he had to leave the room bc he had to throw up because his mind of course went to the worst possible conclusion. They both had to be in the hospital in the end bc Ice was breaking down (NOT. breakdancing) and couldnt move bc he was shaking so bad. While they were in the hospital, even though Mav was the one who got hit, he was the one taking care of Ice.

The first song they danced to was Be My Baby by The Ronettes and they both started singing to it at the same time when it came on and had a moment where they looked at eachother like "how tf do u know this song" but turns out its bc they're both hopeless romantics.

They lived together and said they had separate rooms so ppl wouldn't be suspicious, one time Nick and Carol needed them to babysit Bradley and Bradley slept in the room that they said was Ice's, and when he went to bed he asked "Why does Ice have his own bedrooms if he always sleeps with uncle Mav?" Of course they just avoided the question but he ended up asking Goose the same question and he just burst out laughing.

Ice and Mav are the reason that Bradley had a relatively easy time accepting he was bi, he attended their "wedding" when he was like 10 so he never thought bad of gay ppl. (I put wedding in quotes bc in 1992 gay marriage wasn't legalized so they technically only held a ceremony in secret and said they were married, but when gay marriage WAS legalized they immediately made it official)

[xihe1874]

An Icemav one-shot inspired by "Silhouette" (Aquilo).

Let's go out in flames so everyone knows who we are, Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far. We've become echoes, but echoes that faded away. So let's dance like two shadows burning out our glory days.

The devils on your shoulder, strangers in your head. As if you don't remember, as if you can forget. It's only been a moment, it's only been a lifetime. But tonight you're a stranger, or some silhouette.

---- "Silhouette", by Aquilo

————————

Pairing: Iceman/Maverick

Word Count: 1308

Rating: T

Tags: Post-Break Up, Getting Back Together, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Flashbacks, POV Iceman, Inspired by Music, Past Relationship(s), Sad, Soft, Ex's to Lovers, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Movie: Top Gun (1986)

————————

Iceman hates parties and gatherings, especially those that demand his reluctant interaction with the brass. Being the ambitious and promising young Commander he is, Tom Kazansky understands the inevitability of such social events perfectly, but he still loathes them.

He holds the glass of red wine in his hand, swirling it elegantly. The shirt he wears is too tight around the neck, and the tie isn't helping with the situation at all - he already sweats a little under the stuffy material. Despite his callsign, Ice is constantly feeling hot. That's because you are hot, babe. A fond and teasing voice sneaks into his mind from the abyss of memories, sounding eerily like…

No. Ice scolds his brain, no, don't, I am not thinking of him in some Navy balls, for fuck's sake. At least for tonight, let me have some peace of mind without being tangled in my messy past.

You are always thinking, Ice, does your mind ever rest? Is it tired? 

Stop. 

I love how you say "stop", Ice, especially when you are ordering me not to…

NO.

——————————

"So, Commander Kazansky." Vice Admiral Carlson gives him a curt nod. "Your reputation precedes you." Ice raises his glass towards the admiral. "Sir, I hope all you heard are good things." 

"You bet. Flawless service record, marvellous combatting experience, the youngest Commander Navy has ever had… You are a rising star, son."

"Thank you, sir. I am just doing what I can for my country and people." He takes a sip from his glass and lets the liquid slide into his throat. Ice likes red wine, though he is more of a Vodka guy. Beer is OK, too, though Mav loves it much more than…

Stop. Stop, stop, stop.

"You went to Top Gun five years ago and won the trophy?"

Ice struggles out of his stupor and manages to keep his voice even. "Yes, sir."

"Then you must have met Lieutenant Commander Mitchell before."

The following few things all happen in a blur. Carlson stands aside, revealing a short brunette behind him. The said brunette reverts his eyes sharply and makes an awkwardly failed attempt to run away, almost dropping his glass. He puts the glass on a nearby table, squares his shoulders, and turns to face Ice. The emerald eyes are shining brightly in the light like a long-lost dream.

"Commander."

Ice forgets how to breathe. 

Two years. It has been two years since those eyes studied him like that, and two years since he heard the voice. The air around him turns to solid metal and squeezes his body and heart, leaving no place to survive. He suddenly feels he is going to throw up.

"Lieutenant Commander." The words are spoken automatically, like a machine on the verge of breaking down.

Maverick looks exactly the same, with blazing eyes and a rebellious stance, his lips always on the way to forming a smirk. No, stop thinking about his lips. He is in a black suit that wraps around his body perfectly. And his body is a no-no either.

"You two know each other?"

He is staring, Ice realizes distantly, but he can't bring himself to care.

Let's eat out tonight, Ice, I know a nice restaurant; their soft-boiled eggs are perfect, exactly the way you like…

Can I, can I kiss you, Ice? I've always wanted to do that…

Ice, need you, need you, please… 

Let go, Ice, let go, I've got you, I am here, let go for me… That's it, good boy, my darling… 

Mine, mine, you are mine, Ice, mine forever…

"Commander?"

Ice snaps back to reality.

"Yes, sir, we know each other." He answers hoarsely.

————————

"Ice?"

Ice tenses at the sound of the door opening and refuses to look in the mirror. Leave it to Mitchell to follow him to the fucking bathroom at a Navy party.

Ice hears the door lock behind him. He grips the tub basin so tightly that his knuckles turn white. In the last five minutes, Ice has washed his face with freezing water several times, but he can still feel the gaze lingering on his skin. The gaze that is burning on the back of his neck now. 

"So you are into red wine now?"

Ice turns on the faucet to unnecessarily wash his hands and realizes they are trembling slightly. He deliberately avoids the question as well as the pair of eyes.

"Ice." 

Ice, Tom, yes, just like that, fuck, yes, please, please please please — "People change, Maverick." That comes out more bitter and harsh than he originally intended. Ice stares at the paper handkerchief in his hand, glances at the mirror from the corner of his eyes, and vaguely sees Maverick flinching. He winces to himself - they are really not good at this.

After wiping his hands scrupulously, Ice decides that they can't stay like this forever and that it is better to get it over with. So he raises his head and finds Maverick already looking back at him intensely in the mirror. His arms are crossed in front of the chest, a perfect posture of confidence and nonchalance, but Ice knows him too well to ignore the tightness in his shoulders.

"How much?"

Ice frowns. "What?"

"How much have you changed?"

A thousand thoughts run through his head, but Ice settles with a lame "more than you think." He tries to shrug but finds himself too stiff to do that. Maverick's jaw is working, a telling sign that he is worrying his inner lips because he is either nervous and anxious or setting his mind to do something stupid and dangerous. Or both.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No, Ice. I think you haven't changed, not a little bit."

A familiar rush of irritation blinds him for a second, and Ice says between clenched teeth, "And who the fuck do you think you are to assume…" His angry words are brought to a halt by a pair of strong arms around his waist.

Maverick is holding him from behind. Clinging and clasping for dear life, more accurately, his right hand gripping the left wrist in front of Ice's stomach like he is afraid Ice will break away. "Ice." His call sign sounds choked, and Ice realizes suddenly that the shorter man is shaking as a leaf. He can almost feel Maverick's warmth soaking his back. 

"Ice."

The blonde closes his eyes.

It's so strange that after two years, he almost forgot why they broke up in the first place. Maybe it started with some stupid and trivial argument - he didn't remember who initiated that - and then evolved into a full-on row. Insults were delivered unnecessarily, and misunderstandings were deepened. Then both believed that the other was accusing this relationship of being detrimental and was regretting it. A door was slammed, and "Bye" was said in not-good ways. They were both too proud and scared to reconcile, as it turned out, until now.

It takes him two minutes to register that Mav is talking. "... ain't care now, Ice, I don't give it a fucking damn. I don't care what they think; I just miss you so much."

So Ice takes Mav's right hand and left wrist into his hands. He hears Mav suck in a breath, because of the touch, probably, or the belief that Ice is going to break free and punch him in the face. But Ice is tired and cold, and Mav is warm. And maybe, as the brunette points out, he hasn't changed a bit. 

He doesn't turn around, just gently stroking the marks on Maverick's wrist that were left because the shorter pilot was digging himself too hard. Maverick's pulse feels solid and intimate, like a long-lost piece to the puzzle that is Ice's life.

"Your fingernails are too long." Ice hears himself saying. "You are gonna hurt yourself."

[mavcriick]

INTRODUCING...

☆ –– (tommy martinez, he/him, cis man) who is MAVERICK 'MAV' TORRES anyways ? ew. you don’t know about HIM, we’ll bet you want to. they’re feeling 28 and CREATING WEIRD FOOD COMBINATIONS feels like a perfect night to them. rumor has it they’re HYPER-FOCUSED and ODD because they care, but they’re also OPEN-MINDED and LAID-BACK in the best way. he works to make a little money as a PRO-HOCKEY PLAYER. they’ve rented on a place on cornelia street in the form of A BROWNSTONE. SEVEN ( muse b ) is the song they could dance to the beat of forevermore. (ooc info: ollie, 25, est, they/them, na. ) ©

HIGHLIGHTS

starting goalie with the new york r.angers but it wasn't the straightest path to get there ; laid-back, open-minded individual... if you catch him outside one of his daily routines ; reflexes like a cat ; lives up to the expectation that "goalies are weird" ; probably eating some disgusting sounding food combo in the kitchen right now.

HISTORY

— the youngest of three ( ariana the eldest now 35, michael the middle child now 31 ), maverick had the choice of what kind of youngest child he was going to be. spoiler : he was the well-behaved youngest sibling.

— born in lansing shortly after his parents' move from new mexico where michael was born —and before that, from venezuela— his parents were the type to chase opportunities. they lived in an apartment there for a little while, before moving out to a small town where his mother was able to get a position to utilize her large animal vet skills. his father, a translator, able to work from the comfort of their home and watch the children.

— they were ushered outside quite a bit, to give their father quiet to work, and in the winter this meant pond hockey with the neighborhood kids. and it is here where mav became a goalie, because everyone knows the youngest sibling is the goalie. — high school was fairly uneventful, with the usual ups and downs. by then, mav had long gotten to be a real goalie with midget and pee wee teams, continuing that love on his high school team. many of his teammates familiar faces.

— graduated high school. got drafted in the 5th round to minnesota. played a year in the ushl (muskegon) not too far from home before heading to brown university ( b.s. pyscholinguistics ). backstopped the bears for 4 full years, before heading off to the iowa wild ( minnesota's ahl affiliate ).

—played a rather mediocre season and a half with the iowa wild, before being traded to the new york r.angers as a piece in a much larger trade. mav wasn't the centerpiece of the trade, rather just an add on after not developing as quickly as the wild had hoped, and another goalie prospect quickly outshining him making him redundant. finished the season with the hartford wolfpack (nyr's ahl team )

— was back with the wolfpack come the next season, though his play saw some improvement, much more consistency and steadiness. he received a few call ups during the first half of the season when minor injuries plagued the tandem, finally receiving his first nhl win. but it was in the final stretch of the season that he was called up again to fill in due to a long-term injury to the starter.

— initially he was only supposed to be a back up, through the rest of the season and during playoffs. it was unlikely he would see much ice time once the regular season ended. he played a few good games in those last couple weeks.

— then playoffs came, and in the first round, he was put in after the other goalie was pulled due to letting in 4 goals in the first, and well — the media says that's truly the moment that mav stole the net and never gave it back.

— his coaches would say he had that potential the whole time, that it was only in the pressure of playoffs that all those great pieces and qualities he possessed to be a great goalie finally came together. the avs made a good run at the cup that year, in large due to consistency in net.

— next training camp, mav came to training camp with a renewed purpose, earning a spot on the team and eventually the starter position as well. mav has yet to give up his net, though he feels far from cemented in it. every training camp brings a new challenge. which brings us to present day...

TIMELINE

2023-24 season, age 28: rangers ( present day ) 2022-23 season, age 27 : rangers 2021-22 season, age 26 : rangers 2020-21 season, age 25 : up and down with the wolfpack, called up before playoffs, lead to a deep playoff run and cemented mav's potential 2019-20 season, age 24 : iowa wild, traded mid season to hartford wolfpack 2018-19 season, age 23 : iowa wild 2017-18 season, age 22 : senior @ brown 2016-17 season, age 21 : junior @ brown 2015-16 season, age 20 : sophomore @ brown 2014-15 season, age 19 : freshman @ brown ( providence, ri ) 2013-14 season, age 18 : ushl season ( muskegon ) 2012-13 season, age 17 : graduated from high school, drafted 5th round ( lansing, mi )

PRESENT DAY

— mav lives in new york during the season. he's usually less present in the summers, preferring to spend them in michigan ( #cottageseason ), but he's presently back in new york with the impending start of the 2023-24 season !! he first moved to new york ( and cornelia street, though he originally lived in a diff building, in the summer of 2021 ).

— currently lives in a lovely brownstone with his childhood best friend, myles, and probably has such an arrangement bc of myles. mav almost didn't get a nyc apartment before that first full year with the rangers, almost scared of getting bounced back and forth again, but ultimately decided even if he only spent part of the time in it, it would be worth it to have some home base rather than living out of a hotel room. but he did think that having a roommate would be a good idea : someone to keep an eye on the place while he was gone ( eg. if he got sent down again ). hence, the roommate ad. he never expected his childhood friend from well over a decade ago to reply, but hey, the universe has a funny way of working. that apartment probably was a bit too small for them, and midway through the season myles was already looking for better options. luckily, a beautiful brownstone in the same neighborhood became available. and that's where they live now having moved in the summer of 2022 !!

— frequents plenty of yoga and pilates classes. he thinks they're fun. will randomly show up for various events and things around the city. one of the many reasons he loves ny is that there's never a shortage of things to do.

— thrives on routine. wakes up at the same time every day, does a short yoga session, does some reflex exercises, wakes his eyes up, makes coffee, reads, eats breakfast. the world isn't going to fall apart if he doesn't do his routine, mav still has a rather level-head about things, the only exception is before games. do not interrupt him ( no matter what he claims to be true in interviews ).

— when not busy with hockey day-to-day mav loves to get out into the city. he participates in various volunteer opportunities from animal shelters to clean ups to helping with youth hockey camps. it's never a dull day.

PERSONALITY

— very laid-back generally. he doesn't like to take things too seriously, though he isn't total goof either. rather open-minded in that he'll try just about anything once ( especially food combinations ) before deciding if he likes it or not. bit of a steadying presence, the calm one in the middle of all the chaos. not much seems to phase him. quick to shake off negative commentary.

— that being said, if he's in the middle of the routine he's VERY hard pressed to break it. luckily, not too many people are awake in the morning to bother him, and his night routine is very simple ( and his game day routine is not currently an issue ). everything in the middle of the day though ?? free game.

— mav does have the tendency to get extremely focused on a single thing. he can get dialed into anything, be it a hockey game ( a very good thing ), cooking, reading, pretty much any task. once he puts his mind to something being done... it will be done. once got really into forging mushrooms.

— loves to figure out how things work : anything from physical objects to people to organizations.

— there are times when mav is thinking about something that he'll get very quiet and almost vacant. he's thinking. don't bother him. — somehow gives off the vibes of someone who has their life together and yet... incredibly boyish. — not reckless. thinks things through surprisingly thoroughly. — not always people's cup of tea, not just because of his odd tendencies, but because he also has an uncanny ability to read people. eyes a little too intense and a little too quiet, at times. chalk it up to his college degree, but mav has almost always been that way, reading people from their behavior and between what's said and not. perhaps that's what makes him a good goalie too.

— to quote lexi brown: "i promise you, the weirdest person on the team is in that net (talking to their posts)"

APPEARANCE

— 6'4", muscular, surprisingly solid for a goalie — jaw length hair, either no facial hair or mild scruff, except during playoffs ofc — style : sweaters, button down, fitted t-shirts, anything soft looking, any color any print esp if it's fun. dark washed / gray / charcoal straight cut jeans or pants, sneakers, chelsea boots. runs quite warm and always seems slightly under-dressed for the weather. — quirks : an ability to look incredibly intense at times especially when he's focused on something, plays with a stress ball ( either using it as intended or tosses it up and down ), does crazy eye exercises sometimes out of the blue, if he's deeply focused he needs to be poked first to get his attention

MISC

— extremely good reflexes. mav can catch just about anything thrown at him no matter what. they're something he needs to keep sharp and one of the most important things he needs to ensure he trains during this long period off from hockey. juggles, regular or with the half dozen off a wall. — loves wacky food combinations. snacks on basically anything as long as it's edible. will regularly make combinations bc he was craving a bunch of different things and "it was more efficient to put them together." thus, the opposite of a picky eater. ( a black hole ?? ) — that being said he is a fairly good cook. knows a lot of family recipes: arepas, corn cakes, chicken soup, rice dishes, coconut desserts, milk cakes, etc. loves genuine spicy hot chocolate. — loves yoga and pilates. flexibility is very important. — constantly jokes that he's a goalie and therefore can't skate very well. — speaks spanish, russian, german, and english — fluent in all, enjoys reading books in their original languages. has somewhat suspect acquisition of korean and mandarin — he's working on it. considers language acquisition one of his hobbies. major was psycholinguistics in college. finds it fascinating how language influences behavior and culture. — definitely a plant dad to many low-maintenance plants — loves a fun block/rooftop party. — "goalies are weird" saying = mav. definitely the type with a very very specific and weird pre-game routine / rituals that simply must be done. always doing some weird shit probably. — has a really good goalie death glare — big proponent of public transit. will take it when given the choice. — does not expect to be recognized most of the time as the rangers' goalie and is always very surprised when he is. similarly, does not always recognize "famous" people. his consumption of media is very skewed and often not focused toward popular media or tabloid type sources. — enjoys sitting on things that were not really made to be sat on : counters, tables, the arms of chairs, the top of his net, etc. — his intro also could have went "assembling ikea furniture feels like a perfect night to them" — can, will, and has slept anywhere — yes his parents are top gun fans hahahah

OOC

hello everyone. it's ollie ( 21+, est, they/them) !! who doesn't love a weird goalie, right ?? please don't hesitate to reach out to me on discord if mav piqued your interest or if you have any ideas !!

[malinosh]

It’s a Beautiful Day

It is 70 some degrees out and partly sunny. Dad always thought his birthday should be a holiday, and bragged about the weather! Well Dad, today is your birthday, your first birthday in heaven, and would be your 73rd birthday.

On our way to church this morning, I heard the radio host say it is National Ice Cream Day. I laughed because I couldn’t believe I did not realize your birthday is on that day, and technically is a holiday! Is that one reason why you loved ice cream?

Also, do you remember our trip to Dairy Queen? We took many trips to that lil ice cream shop, but most recently it was just you and me. You had gotten the diagnosis the month prior, but I knew we wouldn’t always get the opportunity, so we took a selfie with our ice cream! We also made a family trip to DQ to celebrate you and National Ice Cream Day today. The total amount was $11.11 and the digits from the time added up to our lucky number, 13. 💙

I also got your piano music transcribed. I would have done it myself, but I could not find the time so I hired a friend to do it. It is beautiful, and Jeff did an amazing job! I know you were probably whispering in his ear if there was ever a question, and I know you are proud.

It is crazy the different timing that a year makes - we are still in the year of firsts after you went home, and it seems to be going by slowly. However, the first year after I gave birth flew. Mav literally just opened the door to go downstairs on his own - uh oh. He is so smart! Sometimes I think about about all that you are missing out on, but you are not missing out on anything. You are here with us in spirit, and you know all.

You’ve been kind of quiet recently (except for our DQ experience tonight! Thank you.) I continue to ask for signs that you are happy and doing ok, and sure, I see some here and there, but overall I assume you are busy. I hear that some people talk to their loved ones in dreams. I don’t remember my dreams, though. I still welcome any signs you can give me that you’re well, and I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.

It’s another beautiful day. Eat all the ice cream. Party with family and friends today. Happy birthday, Daddy. We love and miss you so much.

[sometimesanalice]

Ah, Monroe! Your reblogs always give me life! Your meme game is unmatched, lol!

I'm so thrilled you liked this angsty bit of pre-Like I Can history!

more for you!

You can’t resist lightly teasing him though, “Beach jeans? That sounds like a choice.”“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Bradley says, solemnly. The drama queen.

every time i get reminded of the beach jorts i laugh. bless the ridiculous costume department on that movie.-- like I know there were other people on that beach wearing jeans (ahem, Mav), but NO ONE was doing it like him in those slutty bermuda jorts. That costume department did that for US! they're just so ridiculous and impractical you can't help but laugh and love them.

“When we’re flying together, I’m reminded how it could have been. How it should have been,” he corrects himself, roughly. “I thought I was fucking over it. It’s been fifteen years, kid. And I’m pissed at myself because he should be nothing to me, I shouldn’t care what he thinks.” His voice is a hoarse rasp. “Why can’t I get over it?”

I love the way you write him.-- ahh!! ok, but I loooovedddd getting to dig into this from his perspective!! there's so many moments like when Mav is like "show me what you've got" looking at Bradley, and how Bradley is in the first group to go up against him. And the way Bradley's voice gets all tight after Mav's "Exactly!" after he does his little "it's not the plane it's the pilot". Like I fully think them bonding and talking about flying together was something that definitely happened all the time when Bradley was growing up. So the fact they've been on the outs for so long, and then having to face those "what could have beens" would be so hard on both of them. We know that man does not let things go, so I think he'd be so frustrated that he still wants Mav to be proud of him and his accomplishments.

“I knew it was fucked up as I said it, but in that moment it felt good to hurt him the way he hurt me,” Bradley says, quietly. Every word feels chewed on, like they’d be covered in indents of his teeth. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes, kid. I really fucked up. It’s been eating at me ever since.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I hate that part of myself. I hate that I said that to him, regardless of the shit we’ve been through.” His voice is pinched, tight. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”

crying real tears. my keyboard is wet.--now everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but anyone who thinks that Bradley loves being purposefully callous to people is just wrong. Lololol. That man was going through Dante's Inferno on top of that carrier, but instead of the 7 deadly sins he's like thinking about all the things he can't take back. And I hate public speaking, but I will go find a busy street corner and set up shop and give a one woman ted talk about it, lol. I think he carries a lot of guilt, especially after Ice's death and how quickly they roll out afterwards. In the OG script, it's like maybe 3 days later? But the TURMOIL on his face on top of that carrier when he was trying to talk to Mav kills me everytimeeee. So I had fun with this fic not only because it adds to the LIC lore, but also because I get to be a Bradley Bradshaw Defense Attorney, lmao. Our sweet boy just has a lot of trauma ok everyone? he just needs a hug!

because you’d be able to read even the most redacted version of Bradley Bradshaw.

this line in particular...-- ahhhh! a last minute additon! I always feel like these end up being the lines that people pick out, and it always makes me so happy because they're usually things I add to fill in something that feels lacking, but they end up being really pivotal sometimes! but it always surprises me!! But i love this one too, because of just HOW well these two know each other. Like he didn't even have to say a word for her to realize something was amiss with him. your honor i love them.

He blurts out your name. “Wait.”“I’m still here,” you answer, quickly.You hear him sigh in relief. “I-You know you’re my favorite, right?”“I know.” Your throat gets thick and your eyes prickle. “And you’re mine.”“Yeah?”Your friendship with him as always mattered the most to you. It wasn’t even a question.“Of course. I didn’t make very intricate embroidery floss friendship bracelets at summer camp when I was thirteen for just anyone, you know.” You’d spent hours making him one in his favorite colors. He’d worn it until it fell off and then asked for another. “You’re my favorite too,” you repeat, wanting him to hear it again.

they are real to me, alexa.-- thank god for that because they're a bit too real for me, so I am happy to share, lol. Ok, but like her at the arts and crafts tent spending a whole afternoon making him one and then being so excited to give it to him later?? i mean, my heart. The love was always there, but that year of them being friends as adults living in the same place and getting to kind of relearn each other was what changed it from that affectionate kind to a romantic kind, but I loved them here calling the other their "favorite", like i think there's something truly lovely about them- even with all that distance- still picking the other as their like forever #1. Out of everyone they know, they both still would choose each other. 🥰

anywayyyyssssssss

I'm so happy you liked it!

California Dreaming

Summary: At sometime past 4am, the last thing you would have ever expected was to receive a call from Bradley Bradshaw. But time is a funny thing it feels like it might be running out.

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.6K

Warnings: angst and a bit In-N-Out slander

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on its own!)

You’re pulled from the light sleep you’d just barely managed to slip into by the sound of your phone ringing.

Although you weren’t too sure if your mind was playing tricks on you again. And in that liminal space between awake and asleep, you didn’t trust yourself to know the different anymore. Sleep and you haven’t been on the best of terms over the couple of months, and you had the dark circles under your eyes to prove it.

Your boss had told you about the chatter he’d heard about a position opening up soon at the West Coast office. It was an opportunity that would be perfect for you, minus the fact it would involve uprooting your entire life and moving across the country. You still hadn’t given him an answer yet whether he should put you forward for it or not. But you’d taken to sleeping with your ringer on just in case you were needed for anything, not wanting to close the door completely. And you’d woken up in a panic more than once thinking you’d slept through an emergency call, only to see absolutely zero new notifications.

Just when think it might have been another stress induced fluke, it goes off again.

Bleary eyed, you scramble to reach it. Wanting to silence it to not wake up your boyfriend from his more-peaceful-than-yours slumber. Only half-consciously noting it’s sometime past 4 AM.

However, it’s the name splashed across the screen that makes your heart stop.

𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗘𝗬 𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗪

You sit straight up, the crisp white sheets your boyfriend preferred pooling around your waist.

“Bradley?” You don’t even remember hitting the green button before the phone was up to your ear. “Bradley? Are you ok?” The words come out a sleepy slur all jumbled together by your sluggish tongue.

He’d texted you when he landed back on US soil; a silly selfie with crinkled bag of McDonalds in his hand and the American flag in the background. It had made you grin like an idiot when your phone had lit up with it.

You knew that he had been called back to Top Gun, but that was as much as he’d been able to tell you.

With the time difference, it makes it the hour too early for you, but also too late for him. He should be asleep right now. But you know Bradley, he wouldn’t be calling right now unless it was about something important.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know it’s late there,” Bradley apologizes. “Or early, I guess.”

Tired. He sounds so tired.

You didn’t doubt he was still probably fighting the jetlag that came with being in San Diego after living in Japan for the last year and a half. But it was the weariness in his tone that had you concerned.

“But you’re ok?” you press. You needed to hear it.

“I…” he pauses, then sighs. “Yeah, kid. Everything’s fine.”

You blow out a relieved breath, rubbing at your heavy eyes.

“Good. That’s good,” you nod, reassuringly. Not that he can see you.

He is safe. He is ok. That’s all that matters to you.

Jack groans your name. “Seriously?” The word drips of exasperation and annoyance.

You wince. Less at its sharpness, but more at the feeling like you can’t seem do anything right lately.

You and your boyfriend have been together a little over two years now. You have a comfortable life together in Boston, nice even. But you shook the snowglobe of your relationship when you’d first mentioned the possibility of a promotion and moving, and it still felt like you were waiting for the remainders of all those stirred up flakes to settle back down.

“Give me a minute, Bradley,” you whisper into the phone, “Don’t hang up.” Your voice is so quiet you’re not even sure he heard you.

You turn towards your boyfriend, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s already rolled over away from you.

A literal cold shoulder.

Your eyes trace over the exposed skin of his back. It’s dark, but you could point out where every freckle is on him with bullseye precision. Sometimes you weren’t sure if he knew you as well.

Like when he’d bring you red roses, a flower you’ve never felt one way or another about. You’d tell yourself it’s the thought that counts, that it’s the gesture that matters. But for as many times as you’ve bought your favorite flowers yourself and displayed them on the coffee table in your shared living room, Jack has never once brought them home for you.

It made you wonder sometimes if he even truly wanted you, if he cared enough to pay attention. Or if he was just content in the fact that you’d be there.

And then you’d feel guilty for even thinking that in the first place.

But you didn’t just break up with someone over flowers.

Or the way he always seemed to make plans for you with his friends without ever asking you first. Or the way he was never more attentive to you until the two of you were in front of a group.

There’s a sliver of moonlight peeking through the edges of the blinds of your bedroom. A set of curtains would have solved the issue, but you’d never been able to get Jack on board. It was something you there thankful for now as you tiptoed out of the room with just enough light to make sure you wouldn’t trip over anything.

You ease the door gently closed behind you, feeling some of the tension melt from your body.

“Ok, I’m back,” you tell your best friend.

“I take it we woke up Jack?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, padding towards the black leather couch in the living room. You fight back the hiss that wants to be released when your bare thighs touch the ice-cold material. The October chill had a way of sneaking in everywhere. “He’s got a big pitch presentation on Friday,” you say, feeling like you need to explain, “So he’s just a bit on edge right now.”

Bradley makes a noncommittal sound, something close but not quite like a disapproving rumble. You distract yourself from reading into it too much by turning on the lamp on the side table to its lowest setting. A dim glow illuminating the living room.

“Tell me, how’s California?” It’s a pivot. You know you’re trying to smooth things over; you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

“Sunny.”

You snort and roll your eyes.

“It seems you left good jokes back in Japan,” you tease. You pull your knees up to your chest and reach for your favorite soft knit blanket, tucking it around you. “Be honest, how many things did you forget to pack this time?”

Bradley groans your name. This time you smile.

“I had to take scissors to my favorite pair of Levi’s, because I didn’t bring any shorts for the beach.”

Picturing the pained look on his face as he desecrated his favorite jeans nearly sends you into a fit a giggles. But out of respect for the fallen and your best friend’s feelings you press your lips together, the corners pulling up on their own.

You can’t resist lightly teasing him though, “Beach jeans? That sounds like a choice.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Bradley says, solemnly. The drama queen.

“Is there someone who saw you in them that I could bribe for some new blackmail material?” you ask. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my hands on anything truly juicy.”

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but I looked damn good in them.”

This time you don’t hold back the laugh, only muffling it with a hand over your mouth when you realize that your boyfriend could probably hear you through the closed door.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Give me some time and I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll make some space in my Bradshaw Blackmail folder in the meantime.” Bradley’s warm chuckle in your ear makes the room feel less cold. “So what else have you been up to?”

“We haven’t had a ton of down time, but I did hit up an In-N-Out with Natasha the other night.” That was a name you were familiar with. You’ve never met Bradley’s fellow aviator and friend, but you were happy he had someone with him there that he was close to. “It was the same one I took you to when you came to visit after I finished Top Gun the first time.”

It was a fluke of fate that you’d been sent to the West Coast office for some training around the time that Bradley was on leave before being sent back to his squadron. The overlap was only for a few days, but the two of you had made the most of it.

“Who knew you were such a sentimentalist?” You lean your head back against the couch.

“It’s the closest one to base,” he justifies, “Although, you’ll be happy to know their milkshakes are still trash.”

You grin. “Hey, I never said they were trash. That was all you, Bradshaw.”

You’ve only been there the once, but it had been fun getting to experience it with him for your first time. He’d ordered more than enough food for two people, making sure to get some of the more classic not-so-secret menu items for you to try. And the Neapolitan shake had been fine, but the ones from the ice cream shop in your hometown where Bradley had had his first job were much better.

“Your face said otherwise,” he bats back.

You hum noncommittally, not wanting to concede. It was more fun for you this way, even if he was right. Not to mention no one knows how to read your face better than Bradley does.

When you don’t argue, he continues, “There’s even a rumor going around that they might want to keep some of us around longer. Like they’d form a new squadron that would be stationed here.”

You perk up, “In San Diego? You could be there permanently?” Between his deployments and moving around from base to base, you don’t think he’s been in one place for more than two years since he went to UVA. “That would be amazing.”

“Yeah, it really would,” Bradley agrees, he sounds hopeful, “But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

‘Hope for the best, but expect the worst’ was the motto he seemed to live by. He’d had the rug pulled out from underneath him more times than anyone else you knew.

The two of you are quiet for a moment.

You don’t want to push him into talking about whatever the reason is that he’s called so early in the morning. But no matter how many jokes you trade with him, it’s still in the forefront of your mind. And try as you might, you can’t shake that feeling of unsettledness that was resting heavily on your chest.  

Outside your living room window, the streetlights are bright against the dark sky.

You’ve told him more times than you could count that he could call you any time, but Bradley being Bradley has always made it a point to call during hours that were convenient for you, even if that meant he was still up at some ungodly hour.

But that was so him, always putting everyone else ahead of himself.

With the confidentiality that goes hand in hand with his job, you know he can’t talk about the specifics. It was something you were used to after nearly a decade of Naval service behind him.

You nibble on your lower lip, weighing your words.

“How’s it been with…” You trail off, but you know he knows who you’re referring to. You run a hand up and down your calf, trying to warm up quicker.

Mav? Pete? He’d been Captain Mitchell the last time you’d seen him back when you were in high school, you weren’t sure what his rank was now.

Mav has always been the number one topic on Bradley Bradshaw’s No Fly List. The few times you’ve dared to bring it up in the past had been shut down quicker than you think he could probably fly his jet.

Bradley told you last week in a text that had simply read He’s here. You didn’t even have to ask who he was. It had been just as much of a shock to you as you imagined it probably was for him seeing the man who had derailed his dreams when everything else in his world had already fallen apart.

It was a story you’d always thought there had been more to, but between the two of them you’d always be Team Bradley. That’s how it was supposed to be for best friends.

You can feel Bradley mulling over his answer. “It’s been… motivating.”

The way he says it you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. And maybe he doesn’t even know himself.

You sit up straighter on the couch. “Oh?” you say, casually. Neutrally. Not wanting to let your inflection to color Bradley’s response.

Their reunion has been a long time coming, you just wished you could be there for him with this the way he’s always been there for you. Not just on the phone, but there by his side.

Bradley sighs again, it’s heavier this time. Like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s probably roughly running his hand down his face, the way he always does when he’s really, truly frustrated. Like he’s trying to free those too big feelings from trapped beneath his skin.

“I’m flying with him for the first time in my career. I want him to see why I’m here. I want to show him.” The anger, the hurt rings though loud and clear. But so does the determination. “These patches I’ve been called back are the best of the best that there is. And I’m one of them, kid. And I got here on my own, without him.”

You wait to see if he is going to continue or not, wanting to give him the space to talk through his feelings, but he’s gone quiet again.

“You’ve worked so hard for this, Bradley.”

“It was all I ever wanted,” he says, his voice rough, “To be like them.”

Like Mav. Like Ice. Like his dad.

You’d been there for the fallout. He’d been crushed when he didn’t get to go to the Academy, the self-destruction that followed had been hard to watch. You’d seen the way he had to pick up the pieces of his life. The way the boy had quickly had to become a man. Every choice Bradley has made since then has been with one purpose in mind.

He’d set out to be a Naval aviator and he’d achieved it.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” you say, softly.  “I know I am.”

You imagine Mav is proud too, but you don’t say that part out loud.

After all, he practically helped raise Bradley- in his own way.  Always calling whenever he could. Sending presents. Spending his leave time with the Bradshaws. They’d been a family.

“Sometimes-” Bradley cuts himself off, trying to collect his thoughts. You can almost feel the tormented whirlwind of them through the phone. “Sometimes,” he starts again, “There are moments, when I see him fly- it’s crazy shit that no one but him can do- and I forget. Just for a second. But then I remember and it’s like I’m eighteen and feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut all over again.”

Your stomach twists in the same way it always does when you’re reminded of that rough period in time when the two of you were just teens. And now that you’re older, your ache even more for the boy whose whole world was so turned upside down by the one person he thought would never let him down.

“When we’re flying together, I’m reminded how it could have been. How it should have been,” he corrects himself, roughly. “I thought I was fucking over it. It’s been fifteen years, kid. And I’m pissed at myself because he should be nothing to me, I shouldn’t care what he thinks.” His voice is a hoarse rasp. “Why can’t I get over it?”

It’s times like this where you can feel every mile between the two of you. Every inch of space in your long-distance friendship. And it chafes at you that all you can be is an ear for him to vent to rather than a shoulder for him to lean on.

“There’s no version of this where it wasn’t going to be tough. And I don’t think you trying to brush off who he was to you, like none of that mattered, is going to make this any easier for you,” you tell him. “Not with the history the two of you have. And you can’t punish yourself for having feelings about it.”

“I told him no one would mourn him if he burned in.” He all but blurts it out.

Your suck in sharp breath and you shake your head in disbelief, “Bradley, you didn’t.” There’s no hiding the shock in your voice.

You know there’s an unspoken code of conduct between aviators from the things you’ve picked up from the way he’s talked about his career and fellow Naval officers over the years. That when everyone’s lives are so dependent on each other to look out for one another, there were certain things you didn’t joke about. Things you didn’t throw around, not even in the heat of a moment.

“Shit, shit,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

You don’t know what to say to him. It’s silent in your darkened living room. The only sound is of his affected breathing over the phone.

You can’t keep dancing around things with him anymore tonight. He cracked open the door, but now you’re the one pushing through it.

“Bradley, what happened?”

His voice is strained when he speaks again, “We had a couple accidents during training a few days ago- no one was hurt.” He is quick to clarify, and you know it’s for your benefit. “It was a bird strike and they had to eject, but they were cleared to fly the next morning.” It hits too close to home all the same. You don’t worry about anyone the way you worry about Bradley. “Mav found me in the Ready Room later that night, and it was just the two of us alone for the first time since everything happened. He was talking to me like I was the kid he’d helped raise, instead of the one he’d fucked over. And then all that anger came rushing back. So I did what I always seem to do, I went for all the things that I knew would hurt him the most.”

You squeeze your eyes tight in sympathy. You’ve been on the receiving end of Bradley’s sharp tongue before. You’ve never held it against him, but you’ve also never forgotten the way his words sliced straight through you.

“I knew it was fucked up as I said it, but in that moment it felt good to hurt him the way he hurt me,” Bradley says, quietly. Every word feels chewed on, like they’d be covered in indents of his teeth. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look in his eyes, kid. I really fucked up. It’s been eating at me ever since.” He pauses and clears his throat. “I hate that part of myself. I hate that I said that to him, regardless of the shit we’ve been through.” His voice is pinched, tight. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”

The guilt in his voice is unmistakable and it's a confession you can tell that takes a lot out of him. No one holds on to regrets- or grudges- like he does. Even if the one he’s holding it against is himself. You know this is going to be something he’ll carry around with him for a long time to come.

But it is the way he stumbles over the mention of Carole that cracks your heart open.

You had grown up adoring her. She’d been lightning in a bottle. Her smile was always the brightest in the room, and her laughter always made people stop to look wanting to be in on the joke too. There was no one quite like her.

And after she died, you’d mourned that loss too. You still carried the evidence of that love with the scar issue on your heart. But for Bradley, that was a wound that no amount of time would ever fully heal for him. Forever a reminder of who wasn’t there.

He’d already lost so much. First, his dad. Then his mom. And now with his uncle.

Bradley had told you about Ice and his passing. You knew they had come to an understanding in the after of everything. It was a relationship held together by a monthly phone call or two, and a dinner invite whenever Bradley was in town. He’d called you during one of his breaks on the morning he found out, troubled because he didn’t know he’d even been sick.

Just more time missed with someone who had meant something to him.

You didn’t want him to regret saying those harsh words without the chance to make amends. You didn’t want him to miss out on any more time with people who wanted to be there for him. You didn’t want him to shoulder around that pain and resentment anymore. A decade and a half of it was more than enough to carry that around. You didn’t want him to forever push away the one person who probably cared for him just as much as you did.

“So apologize,” you gently urge him. “Talk to Mav and apologize. For him and for you.”

He sighs, heavily, “It’s not that simple.”

Gone is the quiet girl in her dark living room. You want him to hear you. “It really is though, Bradley. Tell him. Pull him aside after class or get there early. Or take him to that bar on the beach you told me about and buy him a beer. Don’t let this be a thing you can’t take back. You can still apologize.”

“I-I don’t think I can. There’s not enough time for that now.” His words are stilted.

You feel your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “Aren’t you guys there for a couple more weeks?” He doesn’t answer you right away and you feel a chill drift across you, even under your blanket. “Does that mean you’re shipping out soon?”

“It’s why I called.” There’s something more serious in his tone, you’re talking to the Naval officer now. “We got the orders, we ship out tomorrow. Or later today, technically.”

There’s a swooping sensation in your stomach and it feels like the floor has fallen out beneath your feet.

“Goddamn it, Bradshaw. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Your voice wavers.

“I know, I probably should have.” At least he has the good sense to admit it. “I just wanted to talk to you, like normal. Although we didn’t get very far before I derailed the conversation,” he says, self-deprecatingly. “Do you think you can give me a few more minutes of normal, kid?”

You know there’s not much you can ask, and even less than he can tell you. You’re surprised you even allowed to know this much.

But you don’t need a dossier of confidential government information to tell you that whatever he’s being sent to do is dangerous, because you’d be able to read even the most redacted version of Bradley Bradshaw. You’d known something was off from the very moment you’d seen his name lighting up your phone.

You don’t want him to feel your anxiousness, you don’t want to add to whatever else he’s currently going through. Bradley called you because he wants to let his mind relax. So if he wants normal, you can give him normal. You can give him as much as he wants, as much as he needs.

“I’m sorry for making fun of your beach shorts.”

Bradley huffs a soft laugh, “No, you’re not.”

“You know,” you muse, fighting to keep your tone light and airy, “I haven't played hooky in a while and I have some miles to use before the end of the year.”

“You want to come out here?” The suggestion works just like you hoped it would, he sounds less troubled than before.

“I could use some Vitamin D and a milkshake. Do you know a good place to make it worth my while?”

“I might. It depends on your opinion is about Neapolitan shakes though.” Your nose scrunches up on its own. “Are you making that face, kid?”

“No,” you reply too quickly.

“Liar.”

You smile to yourself. “I’ll even let you pick me up from the airport and you can finally show me that Bronco of yours in person. It only seems fair that I get to see what all the hubbub is about after I’ve spent hours letting you talk my ear off about it: V8 engine this and four-speed manual transmission that.” You do your best Bradley impersonation and earn an amused scoff from him.

He’d bought it right before he’d been sent to Japan. Ice and his wife had been looking after it for him while he was away. Bradley had even documented his reunion with it after landing back on US soil by sending you a video of it with him humming the Peaches & Herb song in the background.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Bradley says. You think he might be smiling too.

It’s all to easy for you to slip into a normal conversation with him. He asks about your mom and stepdad. You don’t mention the possible promotion, but instead tell him about the passive aggressive microwave fish debacle that plagued the entire floor for days.

The two of you talk about nothing in a way that feels like everything. And every chuckle you pull out of him feels like a victory. Your tired eyes flutter shut on their own, with them closed you can almost pretend he’s sitting right next to you, until a yawn slips out of you without your permission.

“It’s getting late, I should let you go.”

You want to keep talking to him, but you can imagine the circles that have already formed under his eyes over the last few days. “You should get your sleep. Rest up, because we have big milkshake plans…and you’re not allowed to stand me up. Got it, Bradshaw?”

“I hear you,” he promises. “Try to stay out of trouble until I get back, kid.”

“No promises.” You feel your lower lip wobble.

“Atta girl.”

You laugh. It sounds a little watery to your own ears, but you hope he doesn’t hear it. You’re grateful he didn’t choose to FaceTime you. It’s probably for the best he can’t see your face, you’ve never been a very good poker player.

“Be safe, Bradley.”

You’ve already decided that you’ll let him be the one to hang up first. You didn’t have it in you to hit the red button before he did.

He blurts out your name. “Wait.”

“I’m still here,” you answer, quickly.

You hear him sigh in relief. “I-You know you’re my favorite, right?”

“I know.” Your throat gets thick and your eyes prickle. “And you’re mine.”

“Yeah?”

Your friendship with him as always mattered the most to you. It wasn’t even a question.

“Of course. I didn’t make very intricate embroidery floss friendship bracelets at summer camp when I was thirteen for just anyone, you know.” You’d spent hours making him one in his favorite colors. He’d worn it until it fell off and then asked for another. “You’re my favorite too,” you repeat, wanting him to hear it again.

“Ok. Ok, good,” Bradley says. He lets out a slow breath. “See you soon for milkshakes, kid.”

“See you soon.” It comes out a reedy whisper.

You stay on the line until he hangs up.

And only when the screen goes black do you allow yourself to give into the emotions that had been surging up inside of you.

With the corner of your blanket, you wipe at the tears that are making hot tracks down your cheeks. There’s a hollowness that has settled in your chest that you don’t think will go away until he tells you when to book your ticket to come and see him.

It doesn’t matter that you remind yourself that he is one of the best at he does. Or that you know he’ll be with other people who are just as good as he is. In all the years he’s been in the Navy, you’ve never once heard him sound that unsure before, and it’s rattled you.

It’s not that you didn’t know there was risk every time he sat in the cockpit of his fighter jet, even if it was just to train. But this was the first time it’s ever felt like he was preparing you for the possibility that you might never see or hear from him again.

You didn’t want to imagine a world with Bradley Bradshaw in it.

He’s never once broken a promise with you, and he wasn’t allowed to start now.

You don’t know how long you sit there in the dark with only your feelings and the sound of the clock on the wall for company.

Your eyes drift towards the closed bedroom door, where you’re sure Jack is sleeping unbothered on a soft mattress between stark white sheets.

It hits you then that he hadn’t come to check on you.

It’s still just as dark outside. Only the little lamp next to the couch offers any light, as you look around your living room.

You’d liked all the exposed brick when you’d first moved in, had imagined all the ways you could soften the apartment with things to make it more cozy for you and your boyfriend. More like the two of you.

But the books on the bookcase had been carefully chosen to fit a neutral color palette, while all your favorites had been moved to the smaller one in the office. Their colorful covers hidden away. The spot where you thought some kind of landscape painting could have gone, had a photograph of a sepia-toned city hanging there instead. It was still art, but it was the kind of thing that had been made to disappear into the background.

You keep waiting to see a piece of yourself reflected in the room, some mark of you that had been left behind in the home you live in, but other than the black and white striped rug that had been too good of a deal to pass up on at a store with a no return policy, none could be found. You didn’t see any of yourself there at all.

You thought that you’d been making compromises, but it’s dawning on you that all along really what you’ve been doing is making concessions. A one-sided partnership. When all you ever wanted was to share a life with someone.

Earlier you found yourself making excuses to Bradley, but now it felt like something you weren’t sure you wanted to look past.

You are tired.

And not because it’s sometime around 5 AM now. You’re already well past the start of a new day.

You’re tired of being the one to trying to make something work.

You’re tired of being the one who always makes a genuine effort.

You’re tired of red roses.

Maybe people did end relationships over flowers. Or the art on the walls.

Grabbing your phone, you open your email ignoring all the messages that are already waiting for you, and start typing out a message. When you’re done, you read it over a couple of time before sending it off to your boss. The whoosh that follows as it bounces off the exposed brick in the quiet living room feels like progress.

You didn’t want to miss out on any more time either.

Not with the people who mattered the most to you. The people you mattered the most to.

Leaning over the arm of the couch you turn off the lamp and stretch out to get comfortable on the cushions underneath you. You tuck a throw pillow under your head and drape the blanket over you.

From this angle, you can almost pretend the city lights look like stars.

Your alarm is already set, and if you’re lucky you can doze a bit longer before it will go off all too soon.

But it’ll ok if sleep doesn’t find you.

You’re already California dreaming.

Who gave me permission to do this to myself?! Oh my heart. Don't mind me, I'm just in my angsty era. Thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[midnightdevotion]

Mistake

Requested: Mav is dating the admirals daughter, he breaks up with you to 'protect' you, but it was a mistake.

Pairing: Maverick x reader

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, um Ice being sweet and Maverick being an idiot

a/n: ummmm I adore maverick even though he's a little shit. Currently contemplating a spine tattoo? anyways I use these a/ns for my thoughts :)

Maverick was scared.

Maverick never felt scared, not when he was flying at high speeds or doing maneuvers that would scare any normal person. Not when he was speeding around on his bike helmet-less, no all those things just made maverick feel more alive.

He felt that way whenever he was with you too- alive. Like nothing could touch him or anything bad that did happen would be but a speck to him when he's with you. Things were going so well between you too, he was even planning on telling you he loved you. Then he got called for a very dangerous mission. One he wasn't sure he'd make it back from.

Now the fear that he was feeling was new, because he'd never had someone to come back to- who'd be here waiting for him to come back. He was terrified at the idea of leaving you to mourn him. It wasn't that he was doubting his skills, he just kept having these intrusive thoughts of 'what if'. He'd never really dealt with those before.

A feeling maverick was use to was reckless. So he made the decision that he needed to end things. He couldn't handle this- this fear bubbling up inside him, eating him alive. He convinced himself it didn't matter- he was doing what was best for you.

He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that this was a terrible answer for his actions. That if he'd stop and talk to goose for five seconds, the married and clearly better at relationships of the duo would knock some sense into him. That's the kicker though- he didn't want sense knocked into him, because this feeling? This scared feeling made his hands shake, and his stomach turn and he was acting irrationally because he'd never felt it before and this was the only way to get rid of it.

He was shipping out tomorrow morning anyway- so you will have space to move on before he's back in three weeks. He doesn't give himself time to rethink, not a spare second to consider that you're an adult who knows the risks of dating a naval aviator- or even that he's going to regret this. So that's how he finds himself at your door step on a night you weren't expecting.

"Mav! what are you doing here" and the happiness in your voice at his surprise visit has him swallowing hard. If you only knew why he was standing there, you wouldn't be so happy to see him.

"Mav?" you question him when he doesn't respond, and when he doesn't make eye contact or move to kiss you- something he always does within seconds of seeing you, you know something is off. Even that one time you ran into him unintentionally in the cereal aisle of the store he kissed you, now he's here on your doorstep looking like a kicked puppy.

"we uh... we need to talk" and whether it be because you are an over thinker that plays out every scenario possible, or just because it's an obvious statement for breakups you know what's happening. You steele yourself and look towards the horizon.

"okay" you sound almost robotic, the last thing you're going to do is let him see that this is gonna hurt you. Maverick knows you too well though, he sees right through the walls that just shot up, an he hates that he made them shoot up. It took him so long to get you to lower them.

"I think we need to take a break.. it'd be good for us" you can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth.

"say what you need to say maverick but don't put this as an us thing. This is you- all you so at least be honest" there's a coldness to your voice that maverick hates, you've never been cold with him.

"I can't do this anymore" it was as close to the truth and he was going to give you.

"okay" If he didn't know you so well, he'd be offended by the lack of emotions on your face. He could see it though, the glimmer of pain in your eyes, the flinch in your hands when the words came out of his mouth. The way you were biting the inside of your cheek, something you only did when you were hiding how you really felt.

"okay? You're not going to yell at me or slap me or anything?" and he should've known you wouldn't hell it makes sense that you didn't. Growing up with an admiral as a father you know how to put walls up so thick nobody could even dream of getting past them. Hiding your emotions so well because you didn't want your over protective dad to get angry. Not to say you didn't grow up in a loving home- but you learn some things when you watch your dad put up walls because he has too. His job demanding it of him. Maverick hated that he was the reason it was happening now, and being directed at him.

He hated that even though you were so strong and hiding behind this metaphorical wall he could see your eyebrow tense, and you swallow tensely.

"No Pete I'm not, if that's all then you are free to go" and to anyone else your voice would sound emotionless, like you didn't care. He heard it though, the hitch in your breath, and the quiver in your voice as you said his name. He doesn't really know what to say, so he just nods.

You don't wait any longer than that to shut the door. Leaving Pete to stand there looking at the closed door in front of him thinking 'what did I just do'.

His next movements are auto pilot. He gets on his motorcycle and drives back to his place. He eats a sandwich, not sure if he even tasted it and he goes to bed.

_____

Over the last three weeks you have been a mess. Most nights spent crying and filled with restless sleep. Your family was worried, because they'd never seen you this torn up about any guy. Your dad- he was pissed. You'd found out on accident that Pete had shipped out, after telling your dad you two broke things off- and what was supposed to be a funny comment about staying away from pilots now. He just grumbled that as soon as the son of a bitch was state side, he'd wish he was in hell.

You didn't doubt your dads ability to make Mavericks life a living hell, but you saw his eyes soften when you asked him to please just let it go. You'd been staying with your parents for the time being- comforted by being home, somewhere there was no memories of maverick and you. You'd spent the days working and your nights falling apart and that's what it had been for the past three weeks.

You knew maverick would be back any day now, overhearing your parents in the breakfast nook talk about what to do. They didn't want to necessarily shelter you- rather just protect you from the pain of seeing him again. You cracked a small smile after your dad grumbled something about staging an accident in the air, and your moms loud gasp and a resounding smack to his arm.

You'd always wonder growing up, why your dad made you promise to stay away from pilots. Seeing how in love he was with your mother, how they were each others best friends, always making each other laugh like they were teenagers. For a while it grossed you out, coming home and seeing your parents flirt or kiss in the kitchen isn't something a 13 year old wants to see. Now though, you just wished you could find a love like that- and you thought you had with pete.

Stepping off the last step you round into the kitchen, your parents conversation lulling to a stop indicating it was very much about you. You didn't let it bother you, you know they were only worried about you.

"Morning, I um took your suggestion and called my friends. We're gonna go out tonight" your voice was soft, fitting for the early morning and the sound of coffee brewing.

"oh good! It'll be good for you to get out of the house!" your mothers eager voice chirped back. You know she meant well, and she was only concerned for you so you just sent her a small smile. You didn't have to see it to know your parents sent each other a look as you started to whip up pancakes.

"oh man I love having you home" comes your dad's gruff sigh- you laugh a genuine one, which have been few and far between for the last few weeks.

"you just love that I make you pancakes" you glance over at him, seeing him smile just as wide. Having grown up with this side of your dad, you always thought it was funny that so many found him intimidating. His gruff serious side didn't come home with him very often, he was always cracking jokes and full of love.

You waste the day away with your parents, grateful that they just let you be and didn't press on how you were doing. They knew you well enough they didn't even need to ask anyway. So when you find yourself getting ready to go out with your friends you sigh. Not really wanting too, but also not wanting to bail on your friends who were worried or worry your parents further by not going out.

So you force yourself to put on a cute dress, and you force yourself to put on makeup and do your hair. You stand in the mirror ready for the evening and just looking at yourself. Armor down, but ready to go back up when you step out of your room. Your shoulders are slouched, tired from not sleeping great the last few weeks, haunted by dreams of the man you thought you'd marry.

The bags under your eyes hidden as best you could with makeup, the frown pulling at your lips, showing just how miserable you are. Were you really ready for a night of fake smiles and pretending you are okay? Not really. You were ready for a night of drinking your feelings away though.

You hear the doorbell ring, and you know it's time. So you throw your shoulders back, and take a deep breath. Pulling open the door to your bedroom you hear your best friend at the door.

"hi mom, dad, how are you guys doing?" and the smile you crack at that is genuine, always finding it funny that your best friend refers to your parents like they are her own.

After that it's a whirlwind- of her promising to come visit more, hugs and kicking you out the door. Like they were eager to get rid of you or something.

"Savanna and Chelsea are meeting us at the bar in about an hour, we wanted to ask though, are you okay with going to the usual bar? we can go into san diego if you'd rather." You wish you could say you didn't hesitate but you did. Weighing out your options, sure San Diego would pose no chance of running into Pete, but you could walk home form the bar here, whenever you wanted. Pete is in the middle of the ocean anyway, so you decide.

"we can just go to the usual, it'll be okay- he's not here anyway" you watch as Kenzie has sympathetic eyes for you, and part of you hates it, the other part is just glad you have friends like her.

It takes no time at all for you to pull up to the bar, and you almost feel sick as you push the car door open. You'd come here so many times with the damn aviator, walking the beach and laughing like you had nothing to lose.

You walk into the bar, so focused on keeping your head high and shoulders back that you don't even notice the wing man sitting in the corner. Goose, and if Goose was stateside that means maverick is too.

You're too focused on getting a shot, didn't matter what kind just something to dull this ache that has been constant. Kenzie the best friend she is ordered six shots to split between you two. The fact that she definitely spotted the mustached aviator being a big motivator to keep you distracted.

She sat to your left, knowing that you would face her and keep the aviator out of eye sight. It felt like no time at all had passed before the other two members of your group joined. Instantly ordering more shots and feeling truly happy to be with your best friends again.

You didn't expect a blond aviator to come up to you. You'd seen him around before but you'd never really interacted with him. You were even more surprised when he asked you to dance. You wanted to say no, but he looked nice enough and the looks your friends were giving you were basically begging you to say yes. So you did.

That was three songs ago, and you were really enjoying yourself now. He made you laugh, a foreign feeling on your lips. He twirled you around and dipped you, a motion that brought out a giggle. When he pulled you back up, you didn't expect to hear a clearing of a throat.

"What the hell Kazansky" You move your heads to see none other than Pete Maverick god damn Mitchell standing there. The taller man in front of you let out a laugh.

"Can I help you Mitchell, me and the pretty lady are busy" and you blush, because well c'mon you're only human and just about anyone would blush under this blond haired, green eyed greek god.

"Like hell your busy- you know thats my girl!" his shout has you angry. Before Tom can even mutter out a sarcastic testosterone filled reply you step in.

"No I'm not" and its as if the whole bar quieted to listen to this goddamn fight. You could feel all the eyes on you, maverick and Tom. Maybe it was the several shots you'd had, or the overwhelming amount of feelings you had in the last three weeks, but the damn broke.

"you don't get to come in here and act like you weren't the one at my doorstep telling me you wanted to call it quits. You definitely don't get to tell me I can or cannot dance with someone. I am not yours anymore, which big reminder is what you fucking wanted. So leave me alone Pete" you watch as maverick looks stunned, but you turn not wanting to let him see you break. The blond you were dancing with you decide is a saint, as he pulls you off the dance floor and out by the beach.

Inside the bar, Goose stepped up behind maverick. Placing his hand on the shorter mans shoulder.

"what were you thinking mav?" he watches as maverick flinches.

"I-I don't... I messed up goose" and he didn't need to say it, the WSO already knew, he knew that three weeks ago when they stepped aboard the naval ship and his best friend looked lost.

Outside, you apologized to Tom, feeling bad for how the night turned out.

"No apologies necessary, you don't owe me anything, all I wanted was a dance" you give him a grateful smile, knowing a lot of dirtbags would view it differently.

"Well thank you- for everything, but I think I'll walk home now"

"You want me to walk with you?" and you appreciated his offer, really, but you need some time to think.

"no- that's okay I think some space would do me good, go enjoy the rest of your night Tom" and he gives you a soft smile before nodding. He watches you walk away, but he doesn't go in yet. He knows maverick will assume you two left together if he doesn't and that is his plan. He's right, it takes Maverick all of another five minutes before he's rushing out the bar doors.

"Goose I gotta get her back!" and he sees the mustached pilot smile and shake his head. He heads back inside before maverick can see him leaning against the building.

"ice? Maverick thought you took-" and ice cuts him off with a laugh.

"I know exactly what he thought goose- that was kind of the idea" and realization strikes on the married mans face, before he's lost in a fit of laughter. Ice can't help but join in.

"someone wanna fill me in?" It's sliders voice that cuts them out of their laughter.

"sometimes maverick needs a kick in the ass, he was a miserable sap the last three weeks and I figured if he saw me 'making a move' on his girl then he'd get his shit together and stop being so annoying." comes Ice's quick explanation. Slider just smirks shaking his head, because Ice was right and it worked.

___

Your walk home wasn't the most efficient one. You stopped and watched the waves for probably an hour and your pace wasn't necessarily quick. You wanted your parents to think you'd went out for a good amount of time. That and you just wanted to wallow in peace, nobody to keep it together for, nobody to worry about you when it's just you and the stars.

When you arrive at your parents house, the walk feeling too long and yet not long enough, you see an anxious pilot waiting for you. You have no more fight in you, no more energy to put up walls, no more anger just numb. He looks up, hearing the scuff of your shoe on the pavement.

"I uh went by your place and after an hour I figured maybe you'd come here instead. Uh your dad said you weren't home and shut the door in my face so" and you can't help the small smile at the idea of your father just shutting the door in mavericks face.

"I took the long way home" the tension between you two, something you'd never felt with him was nauseating. How could someone who you were on the free fall of falling in love with be so close to a stranger now.

"I- I made a mistake" and you can't help but scoff at that. He takes a small step closer and you almost flinch.

"Stop" your voice is hoarse. You see the pain flicker in his eyes, and part of you wants to reach out to him but the other remembers everything you've felt, every drop of pain he put you in and you will yourself to be still. You can't worry about him when you're standing here breaking into pieces.

"Honey please- I was scared... I didn't want to hurt you but god I was so scared that maybe I'd die and you'd be heartbroken and I couldn't do that to you." The laugh that leaves your mouth is humorless, it sounds nothing like you and that scares maverick more than him dying on a mission.

"so you decided to break my heart anyways" Your voice is hallow. Sure over the last three weeks you'd picture him coming back to you, and you go on being happy but now that it's happening? It's so much more complicated, and your tired and tipsy brain can't compute any of it. So when he opens his mouth to speak, you hold your hand up.

"Pete I...I can't do this right now. You need to go" and Pete knows you well enough to know that you are exhausted, the evidence that you tried to hide before the bar coming full force, plus now your feet ache and your head hurts, your heart feels like it's breaking even more.

You can tell he doesn't want to, he wants to get everything off of his chest, but you- you need to put yourself first. Something you've always struggled to do. So you're grateful when your dad opens the door. Not so thrilled that he was listening but glad at the same time because he won't let Pete argue with you. Not when he sees his little girls defeated stature and broken eyes.

Pete doesn't move as you walk around him, though it does sting when you take the extra steps to go around him without touching him. He watches as you walk up the steps, kissing your dad on the cheek and whispering something. Pete was hoping maybe that would be that, but he's not surprised when he sees your dad step out and shut the door behind him.

"Let me make one thing very clear to you Mitchell. That's my little girl, and one day if your lucky you'll have a daughter, and you'll understand where I am coming from but you EVER hurt my daughter again and I will ruin you. It doesn't take a fool to see that you love her, and I wouldn't be so understanding if I myself hadn't made this mistake with my dear wife. Trust me when I say they know what they are signing on for, and they find us for whatever reason worth the risk. You do everything you can to make up for the last three weeks, and then you fight tooth and nail for the rest of your life to keep her happy and keep coming home to her. Do you understand me?"

"Yes- Yes Sir." with that the admiral nods and he walks inside, stopping at the last second before he throughs out.

"She needs space for now, but you can come by tomorrow." and it was a gentle way of telling him to get off of his property and Pete does just that, a bounce in his step as he thinks of what to do for you tomorrow.

When you wake up, you aren't shocked to see the clock read 10 am. Usually your more of an early bird, but with how loaded last night was plus how tired you were before any of the events you finally feel somewhat refreshed.

To say you're shocked when you make your way down the stairs is an understatement. Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to see Maverick and your dad LAUGHING, while cooking you pancakes.

The two men sobered up quickly when they see your confused self, standing in the entry way of the kitchen.

"Morning sweetie, I'll give you two some privacy" he comes over to you and presses a kiss to your cheek, mumbling that you should hear him back, and you just mumbled back 'traitor'. When you don't make a move to come closer, Pete sighs.

"I don't know what I need to do for your forgiveness, I brought loads of flowers-" at this you glance to the table to see he did in fact bring LOADS of flowers, there's at least 6 dozen flowers stealing all the space on your table.

"-I'm making you breakfast- well attempting and I am ready to get on my knees and grovel." You can see the seriousness in his eyes as he speaks. He steps closer and unlike last night you let him.

"I am so sorry I hurt you, I was an idiot, and I didn't even think about what I was doing- I know that doesn't make it okay. I was so scared and darling I never feel scared so I acted on impulse- a stupid fucking impulse. I was miserable all three weeks on that stupid god damn ship just waiting to come see you again. I got off that ship and went right to your place, when no one answered I felt defeated. So I went to the bar to drink my sorrows away and saw you with Kazansky and I felt like someone shot me. I know I didn't handle it right- any of it, but I love you and only want you so please please forgive me"

Your heart was a stuttering mess, poor thing has gone through so much abuse the last month. You could see the desperation in Pete's eyes, and as much as you wanted to keep him waiting for a response you couldn't help the lazy smile that started to form on your lips.

"You love me huh?" and Pete is too worried you won't forgive him to notice the joking tone in your voice.

"Yes sweetheart, I love you so much and It scared the hell out of me, I'm an idiot I know"

"shut up and kiss me Mitchell" and so he did, he kissed you like his life depended on it, and for a moment you think maybe yours did. Like you had gone three weeks without oxygen and you were finally coming up for air.

"I love you too, you stupid pilot." and he was the happiest man on earth.

Taglist:

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@multiplefandomsmess 

@tkmarvel-divergentbish

@ohh-to-be-a-frog

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@americaarse

@malindacath

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@trikigirl271

[pollyna]

The corner says it was the most peaceful way to go, in his sleep, and he didn't even realise it. Hondo says he was smiling, but he doesn't say his hand was stretched out towards Ice's side. Under cause of death, the doctor writes heart attack, but Bradley knows that grief, pain, and a broken heart killed Mav faster than a fifth-generation jet.

(Bradley doesn't have a last memory of Ice because he wasn't around. All he has are scattered photos in a house he used to call home fifteen years ago, and he was sure he was going to call it like that again. He has a last memory of Mav, though: him sitting in one of Penny's booths, drinking beer and eating wings, laughing along with Yale and making programmes for their weekends. He got to hear him say I will see you tomorrow, son, before watching him disappear on his bike. He got time to whisper back, I love you, dad.)

[minilpark]

Hi!! This is the anon from a few days ago again :) sorry for the absence i have exams going on atm so ive been revising but i have a little time between them so i have a few more ideas! I have two main ones right now, the first is that rooster and phoenix have a number of choreographed dances together figured out from when they were both at the academy together which reveals itself on a drunken night out when britney spears' "give me more" come on and the two break into this elaborate dance that has the crew hollering bc damn theyre actually kinda good! The second idea is more angsty and is that mav was shot down on a mission after his fall out with bradley and though ice insisted that rooster would want to know, mav thought he hated him and didnt want their first bit of contact in years to be that he was hurt so he hides how lonely he feels not having rooster about and tries to laugh it off with ice who is not having any of it. This prompts mav to cry into ices arms at how close it came whilst him and rooster are still not talking. He feared the so much that hed die whilst rooster still hated him. Anyways i do hope you are well!! :)

hey anon! i hope exam season is going well for you!

okay first off, i LOVE this idea of rooster and phoenix having established choreography for songs especially because they're friends since pre-movie. they'd totally eat that shit up i love the idea of them dancing to britney lmao

concerning the second idea, my heart truly broke i definitely agree with you that this probs happened at least once which scared mav. not simply because he'd be leaving rooster behind but he wouldn't want him to feel guilty if he passes and rooster isnt able to possibly forgive him you know?

in conclusion i love to hear about all your ideas they are truly gold. can't wait to see more from you anon and good luck on your exams!

[heartsofpets]

Lowe’s Employee Changes The Life Of Dying Rescue Dog With A Discounted Wagon

Joey and Allison Maxwell made their family a little more complete when they adopted Maverick, and they also saved his life. Maverick, who was about a year old when they rescued him, was in a high-kill shelter in North Carolina.

Maverick is a big dog but, the Maxwells say, even people nervous around big dogs were never nervous around Maverick. He was so popular with people of all ages, that a saying was born: “Everybody loves Maverick.”

But eight years later, Maverick was diagnosed with lymphoma. Treatments seemed to be successful at first, but cancer came back aggressively, and the Maxwells feared the worst.

“He was anemic, had an infection, and we really thought we were going to lose him,” Joey Maxwell says. “He spent two nights and three days in the ICU, then they told us that we were bringing him home for Hospice care.”

The news, of course, was crushing, but what the Maxwells were about to find out was that everyone really did love Maverick, and pitched in to make sure his last day was the best ever.

But they were going to learn something else, too — that they were about to save Maverick for the second time.

Maverick was rescued from a high-kill shelter by the Maxwells after being abandoned on the side of the highway.

From the first day, he brought a joy to his humans, Allison and Joey Maxwell.

Maverick had a special quality that made everyone instantly feel comfortable and safe around him.

So when he was diagnosed with lymphoma eight years after coming to live with the Maxwells, they were devastated.

They tried treatment, but when cancer came back, the veterinarians said they needed to prepare for the end and make Maverick as comfortable as possible at home for the short remainder of his life.

But the Maxwells weren’t about to just mope around. They decided to give Maverick the best day ever — even if he could no longer walk.

They went to their local Lowe’s to buy a nice wagon so Maverick could lie down comfortably while they wheeled him through town.

But the nice wagons were expensive, more than they could really afford after all of Maverick’s treatments.

And then everyone’s love for Maverick began to show.

When Joey Maxwell explained why they needed the wagon, the Lowe’s employee told him to come back in an hour.

When he came back, there was a wagon waiting, and they sold it to Maxwell — at a discount.

“I hadn’t even told them about the money thing,” Maxwell says. “He had just decided to do that out of the kindness of his heart. So I, of course, lost it, blubbering right there at the cash register. Then, the cashier broke down, too, and we had a nice little cry together.”

The wagon was outfitted with Maverick’s favorite foam mattress and plenty of blankets, so he would be comfortable on his journey.

And then it was time to hit the town for Maverick’s special, last day.

They treated him to burgers…

and dog-friendly ice cream.

“We took him to our small little town and a big beautiful day out,” Maxwell says. He also says that everyone who encountered Maverick fell in love. Even though he was so frail, Maverick hadn’t lost any of his charms.

The Maxwells were sad, but they now had a beautiful memory to cherish.

But then, something else happened.

Maverick started to get better.

Ever since his big day out, his health has been gradually improving. He’s still a long way from recovered, but each day, he seems a little stronger.

And since he’s made so many new friends, the Maxwells have been taking him out on his wagon, whenever Maverick feels up to it.

“My wife and I are convinced that had we gone home last Tuesday and just said our last goodbyes and laid around the house being depressed, that Mav wouldn’t be here today,” Maxwell says.

“I really believe that what has helped him improve more than anything is all this positivity and love he’s been receiving. He hasn’t had the time to think about being sick because he’s been getting so much love from around the world.”

Right now, Maverick is recuperating and preparing for another round of chemo, and the Maxwells are right by his side the whole way — cherishing every moment they have with him.

Maverick is currently on the mend, although he still has a ways to go.

Right now, though, he’s eating well and is getting his energy levels back up, and he’s beginning to show some movement in his back legs, which are all very good signs!

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Lowe’s Employee Changes The Life Of Dying Rescue Dog With A Discounted Wagon was originally published on Hearts Of Pets