#mav-aligned

[your-bigender-big-brother]

I found the term outheric, which is a word for being outherine-aligned, so I made my own!

Mavric: A term for someone who is maverine-aligned.

I borrowed colors from my maverine flag redesign with some other colors added to match. While I personally use some lovely muted blue, teal, and green to represent my own maverinity, I wanted this flag to represent everybody.

Another similar term is denebian, which is a word for maverine or maveriquine alignment. - 💙💚

[revenant-coining]

Mav(erique)-Aligned

[pt: Mav(erique)-Aligned]

[ID: a rectangular flag with 5 equally-sized horizontal lines. colors in this order from top to bottom: orange, yellow, white, yellow, orange. End ID]

requested by anon

Mav(erique)-Aligned: a maverique alignment.

Etymology: mav/maverique, aligned

@radiomogai , @imawanokiwaaa

[ID: a light blue line divider outline in blue. in the center is the google bubble emoji. End ID]

[lleclerc]

iceman + his concern for maverick post-hop 31

[fluffypotatey]

me: you know i really want to do a tgm epic au but i am conflicted on whether to place Mav or Goose in the role of Odysseus my brain on my commute: write both me:

[theomencometh]

i think they should make another d&d movie but instead of being a direct sequel it should have the main cast return but be playing different characters

[simpforrooster]

heard it all.

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x f!Reader

summary: reader vents to mav and penny about her feelings for a certain mustached fighter pilot. a/n: my take on a request from @kpopgirlbtssvt. i latched on to one part of the request and took off. i hope you still like it!

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the low voice of Maverick pulls you from your thoughts.

"Hmm, I don't know what you're talking about," you reply, continuing on without another thought.

"You've been wiping down that same spot of the bar for ten minutes."

Maverick and Penny, your boss, exchange a knowing glance. You look at the rag in the hand as if seeing it for the first time.

"I think it's plenty clean, y/n," Penny comments, winking at Mav.

Placing a hand on your hip, you stare the two of them down. "What are you two silently saying to one another?"

Penny shrugs a shoulder. "Oh nothing." You can see it in her eyes though. She knows exactly what has your brain all a-mush.

More like who.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

The hot Hawaiian shirt wearing aviator.

He captured your heart the first day you met him. Sure, his looks were what drew you to him initially. But he was so nice. Like green flags all around.

You shake your head at the two people who have become a pseudo family to you. Tossing the rag onto the counter, a sigh escapes your mouth.

"Y'all just give it up. We're just friends." Your voice breaks on the word friends, and your eyes squeeze shut to hide your embarrassment.

"Come on," Penny starts.

Holding up a hand, you stop her. "Penny, please. It already hurts enough. He's the nicest, sweetest guy I've ever met."

Your chest heaves as you breath through your emotions.

"I have never met another man like him. He makes me feel seen. He makes me feel beautiful."

Maverick makes a move like he is going to say something, but Penny lays a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"And as if the silly little age difference isn't enough, he only sees me like a sister." A tear falls along your cheek, surprising you. Of course, you've grieved the non-relationship before. It isn't out of the norm to sob into your wine glass with Phoenix.

It's the first time you've ever cried in front of Penny and Mav.

The sound of a clearing throat has your spinning around.

Rooster looks at you, his brows knit together. You can't read the look on his face, but it can't be good. It tells you everything you need to know.

He heard it all.

And he doesn't feel the same.

Reaching up to sloppily wipe your tears, you tried to step around him, mumbling something so incoherent you can't decipher the words.

Rooster's strong arms reach out and stop you in your tracks.

"I can promise you I do not see you as a sister," he says, his voice low.

Not that you try, but words refuse to come out your mouth. How could they? The way he's staring at you has your heart beating in overdrive.

"Did you really mean all that?" he asks. His eyes roam over your face, searching for something. It takes you a second to realize he looks a little scared.

Scared of being rejected.

Bradley doesn't like you back. There's no way. He's had plenty of opportunities to make a move and hasn't.

He takes one step closer to you, the soles of your shoes meeting.

"Of course, Bradley." The sentence comes out barely a whisper, but he heard it. His hand snakes around your neck and settles into your hair. "Why wouldn't I be madly in love with you?"

A delicious groan escapes from his mouth before he closes the space between you. His lips meet yours and suddenly the Earth moves beneath your feet as the planets snap into alignment.

Bradley's lips are finally on yours, and it feels every bit as right as you imagined.

He pulls back so his mouth is feather light against yours. "Sweetheart, I am wildly in love with you." The words fall on your ears in soft whispers. Your eyes fall closed to relish in the way all this feels.

Bradley brings his mouth back to yours, pulling you tight against him. Your height difference has never been more apparant that right this second.

"Okay, okay, get a room," Maverick calls, followed by a, "Oof," as Penny's arm comes into contact with his solid stomach.

masterlist.

a/n: i hope y'all enjoy this one! i've been struggling with a little bit of writer's block.

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

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

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @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

[stopthatfool]

thinking about twink maverick and wondering how people think he’s a twink. genuinely. I look at these images and see, while yes a short man, a man who is also muscular and probably weighs a ton in pure muscle

If he’s a twink then everyone in that movie is a twink. and i dont think that’s correct.

According to wikipedia, this is what they say twinks are:

So let’s break this down.

1. Late teens to twenties

Sure. Maverick is in his twenties. But only looking at age would technically make me a twink so whatever. Let’s move on.

2. Slim to average physique

Maverick does not have an average physique. That man is built. He is in peak physical condition. He doesnt just sometimes work out, he is actively working out. Look at his arms! His trapezius! Those muscles are clearly developed and strong! In certain uniforms, his waist appears smaller, but that’s what the flight suit does to all silhouettes. Maverick is built like a brick, yes with hips, but he’s not little. He’s short of course, but he’s not small. He’s not lithe, he is muscular, he is BUILT! Look at the left bottom picture. Look at how rectangular. Look at how NOT lithe he is. Look at how not skinny he is. Like come on now.

3. Youthful/feminine appearance

While he is extremely youthful looking as Tom Cruise always appears, i disagree that tom cruise/maverick in Top Gun looks feminine. But that’s not to say that tom cruise has never appeared feminine or twink-like in any way. Legend (1985) is an example of his twink and feminine abilities. But for maverick i would argue that he looks very masculine. Boyish, which some argue is another visual feature for twinks, but not feminine (in my humble opinion).

4. Little to no body hair

To think that maverick has no body hair is just maverick unibrow erasure and i wont stand for it. But seriously. While tom cruise was waxed and oiled up for top gun, this is also happy trail erasure. I will now provide proof.

One of them is from mission impossible but um idc. It’s proof that Maverick HAS body hair, both around his chest and in … lower areas… but Maverick is not hairless enough to be a twink, especially because he doesnt fall into the other necessary categories to excuse/ignore his body hair.

5. (Kind of a half point because not all definitions and understandings of the word twink align with this) but it seems a lot of modern connotations of the word twink are parallel to exclusively bottoming

See here the most popular definition of the word twink on urban dictionary. I dont think that Maverick exclusively bottoms. Maverick FUCKS too. Like it’s not just Ice doing the fucking. Like Mav fucks. He fucks, guys you dont understand he fucks.

Therefore, Maverick, in my opinion, is not a twink. He is Maverick. The end.

[caystar13star]

Ok this is my favorite photographer who shoots the Blue Angels in Pensacola. This week they are flying with the Air Force Thunderbirds:

Source

Anyway, I’m picturing Bradley and Jake doing a stint with the Angels sometime after the mission. Mav and Ice are so proud of them and they have been bragging to all the flyboy uncles.

Unfortunately, the stars align that *this* is the weekend that they can all come out and see the show. Jake has no idea why Bradley is whiny and mopey all week as they practice with the Air Force.

The uncles show up, cheer loudly, and Mav takes about a million pictures with the guys in their blue flight suits posing with everyone.

Slider waits until they are settled at a restaurant to start teasing them. “You know, back in our day, we wouldn’t be caught dead flying with the chair force.”

[pollyna]

Something something the day Ice realises he's really a dad, and he hopes to never lose the right to be one, is a Friday, and it's because three pair of shoes are aligned on the left side of the door. He knows Mav and his won't change size, but he has a not-so-distant-memory of Bradley's one being half of the size of Mav's, but now they are almost at the same size. He was around for this boy enough to see something as stupid as a change of feet size, but with it came so many other things he almost doesn't know what to do with all the emotions he's feeling.

"Dad, everything's okay?" Bradley asks, after he spent a minute too much staring at their shoes.

"Yeah, Baby Goose," he answers, hugging him. "everything's perfect." Ice smiles, opening his arms to ask for a hug that Bradley delivers without asking.

(Ice hopes that Bradley isn't going to be too tall for another while, just like his shoes aren't going to get too big all of a sudden. He hopes that even if all these changes are going to happen all at once he will be around. He wants to be around.)

[randomtacoscry]

what do you see in icemav?

Shit- why's this low-key a hard question? Like, I see A LOT in icemav but it sort of depends on like what lens I'm viewing it in.

Like, in terms of in what ways do I see them as romantic- there's quite a few. Film-wise, story-wise: I feel like when you make two halfs of a whole you can go about that with different dynamics - romantic, platonic, familial, etc. The reason I think it's romantic though is because there's the other aspects of their beings also being polar opposites: their hair/eye color, their heights, their flying style, their childhoods... there's a lot that makes it more romantic to find these differences in them and still understand that they care and respect one another. I mean, if they didn't, they wouldn't view the other as the only reasonable competition within Top Gun. Also, they begin the film as acquaintance-rivals only to end it as trusting the other with something they have never fully trusted anyone else with- their lives (and the lives of their RIOs). They've seen past their differences to understand that their values either align or are worth more to one another than before- hence: romantic (albeit that is not always the case). Furthermore, the way the film is shot is with a homoerotic tone. The volleyball scene, the bar scene, the shower room scene. All of these either have almost no skin covered, longing looks, flirtatious banter, or/and an isolating moment between Iceman and Maverick. Not to even mention the ridiculous amount of staring that goes on between the two of them throughout the duration of the movie. Also, much of the movie, during that time, was meant to mock the homoerotic nature of Navy camaraderie, which means it isn't far fetched to notice Maverick's sexual tension with more than one character who isn't Charlie. Iceman is just the most obvious, and I feel their poetic contrast makes them a better fit as a couple, which is why I ship them. Another note is Iceman apologizing to Mav in the locker room. It's an intimate scene that they share with only each other and, well, Hollywood (I believe) is around the corner. While his hiding is to ultimately call Charlie, the moment resembles two pilots being eavesdropped on by another- a snitch as told by the scene. This can easily signify the intimacy and depth of Ice and Mav's relationship as it is something to be kept secret- if someone hears, they may snitch on the two of them. While this may be a reach of sorts, I can't help but think the scene reflects a sort of invasion of privacy for an intimate, meaningful moment shared by two Navy men (in a locker room may I add) that the eavesdropper feels the need to report/share to a higher up.

In the terms of how I view their relationship; i.e. what I see within the ship itself- I see a lot of layers to Icemav, which is one of the main reasons I ship them (I ship Mystrade too so it doesn't always have to be for great reasons). Their poetic nature is one of the main reasons: Maverick being an orphan, working his way into the Navy, reckless in the air, fiery demeanor, and a sun-coded character whereas Iceman being the son of an admiral/commander, has nepotism and the expectation of the Navy, rule-follower in the air, cool/calm demeanor, and is a moon-coded character. They compliment each other in the best ways and work well with one another in their air because their skills align with each others perfectly. BUT, ship-wise I think their dynamic is super great because there's a lot to work with. As an angst fan, Ice's expectations oftentimes make him hide a part of himself- one that Mav is likely more chill with because of his reckless nature. This leads to them having to choose one another or their careers- or figure out how to live with both in the time in which they exist- or, the most tragic, having to end things because they both can't have what they want. Hypothetically, Ice won't choose Mav because Mav needs the Navy, and Mav can't choose between Ice and the Navy because that means leaving his best friend behind in a way. Ice doesn't want him to choose- he loves Mav too much to force him to so he'd probably choose for Mav- he'd leave. Other than the angsty will they-won't they aspects of their relationship, they have many other good dynamics. In TGM, it is shown that they both are close with Bradley ("the kid," Mav/Bradley fighting when Ice's death is announced referencing close attachments on both sides, Ice knowing Mav is the only one who can teach Bradley, Icemav's conversation about Bradley in Ice's office) which is great on a relationship level. Bradley is seen as the kid Icemav "never" had. They have a severed relationship but Icemav has a united front against Bradley (parent-vibes just saying). This adopted-kid trope is honestly one of my favs and adds so much relatability and domesticity to the Icemav ship- and it's totally feasible which is crazy. Carole died before Bradley could apply for the Navy, which means Bradley (who'd have signed up at 17-18 bc that's always been his dream) would need a parental guardian to care for him while he's a minor. Guess who Bradley's godfather is??? Maverick. So I would say that Mav raised Bradley during his later teen years and Ice referencing Bradley as "the kid" leads me to believe he played a part in Bradley's childhood alongside Mav. ALSO, Icemav's angst traumatizing Bradley would be another great reason for him to have some resentment against his pseudo-fathers. Overall, I do think Icemav is a great ship for the several layers it does have based on canon dynamic, time period, occupation- these all give great material for this couple. A few tags that this ship can easily use are: forbidden romance, rivals-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, right person wrong time, 1980s, idiots in love, shares a kid, friends-to-lovers, enemies-with-benefits, bittersweet ending, unhappy ending, main character death (sorry that was mean).

ALL IN ALL: I see a lot in Icemav and I think that's why they've kind of taken over my mind the past year and a half. They're the first ship I've ever actually attempted a long-fic for and I think that's for a reason. Also, I truly think it sucks that we get to see so little of their lives with one another (actually real homophobic writers would probably ruin it so instead I wanna fill in the blanks myself) but it does also give us the freedom to create a lovely, tragic answer for the missing 30 years in the timeline- which is some great material.

TLDR; On a film/story basis, several directional and artistic choices from the actors implies homoerotic dynamics and they would not have added so many lingering looks if they weren't at least a little gay. From a ship basis, Icemav has a lot to work with like their rivals-to-lovers dynamic, relationship with Bradley, and tragically implied last-minute relationships with women in TGM.

[dragonpride17]

IDs in alt text

lichtiabinary / lichtian abinary - a light aligned abinary person/aby/aban/etc

lichtimaverique / lichtian maverique - a light-aligned maverique/mav/mavan/etc

lichtioutherine / lichtian outherine - a light-aligned outherine person/oune/ouman/etc

lichtian coined here (link)

[pinkberrytea]

Your OC’s personality

Tell everyone all about your Tav / Durge. This will be fun!

Tysm for the tag @emmy-dekarios-bg3! I’m so sorry it took me so long to do this. Answering for my Tav/Durge Mavka, as always! 🤍

- How would you describe their personality?

Mav is gentle and soft spoken, if not a little gloomy. While shy at first, she quickly warms up to those who show her kindness, and once she likes someone, she can become quite clingy, annoyingly so, even. Though insecure, she is loyal to a fault, and will do anything for those she loves.

- What brings your character joy?

Spending time with loved ones; eating sweet things; petting cute animals (like Scratch and the owlbear!); reading; taking care of plants and watching them grow (she doesn’t have much of a green thumb, but she tries her best 😅).

- What does your character strongly dislike?

The Urge; thunderstorms; whenever others touch her horns; being alone; herself.

- Is your OC scared of anything?

Most of all, she’s scared of losing control to the Urge, but she’s also terrified of thunderstorms.

- What is their alignment?

True neutral/Neutral good!

No pressure tags 🌟 @xxnashiraxx, @zekeen, @judasiskariot, @angelicgaming1007, @ashlynnaska, @bananasfosterparent, @starryjuicebox, @inkymoonbunny, @amoremagnificentbastard, @eraserspiral, @kalmiaphlox, @andromedaancunin, @busy-baker, @khywren, @bardic-inspo, @obsessedwhyyes and @nyx-knox!

[your-bigender-big-brother]

Based on neularian and neusorian, would you coin a neumav version of them?

So like a neumav denebian/damocloidian/atlasian?

I was thinking in shortening to deneubian, neumocloidian or neucloidian, and neutlasian.

Def: gender alignment which is maverine in nature, but does not have any ties to maveriqueness or maveriquehood whatsoever. What it means to have a MVIN alignment can be different to different people; but if your gender feels in someway tied to or resembling maverinity or your experiences with and understanding of your identity (whether it would be considered maverine or not) are shared with or mirror those who would define themselves as maverine, you may be mav-aligned.

I like neucloidian a lot. Here's a flag! Neusarian already uses orange, which I would normally associate with maverinity, so I went with brown instead. The symbol is reminiscent of the damocloidian symbol, edited to match the neularian/neusarian flags. - 💙💚

[the-ace-with-spades]

Weird take but Carole and Mav get married a couple of years after Top Gun.

It starts very simple --- Carole doesn't want to move out of the house she and Goose rented in Lemoore though the military programme but she can't stay there more than three months after the funeral because she is a widow and VA can't really prolong the lease for non-military people without a military spouse. She wants Bradley to have a stable home and keep the friends from other military families Bradley already made and she quite frankly can't afford anything as good as the military housing within the same budget out privately somewhere in the area.

Mav is living in a bachelor pad that looks like the cheapest student house share one has ever seen so he says, hey, let's transfer the lease onto me and we'll just try to pay for it together. And then he moves into the spare room they were previously saving up for Baby No. 2 that will never come to be.

It makes some things easier too --- Mav can take care of Bradley while Carole looks for a part-time job that can align her hours with Bradley's future preschool hours as he's not in one yet since she was a stay-at-home mom since they moved to Lemoore. She is a qualified teacher (art/music) but there aren't many schools around and she has barely taught before b/c she finished her degree and got pregnant not long after and with them moving around different bases, she couldn't find a job as anyone but a temp teacher. It's easier to cook for three than for one and they can switch with the chores depending on who is home at the time.

This rises some eyebrows in their circle of friends and military acquaintances --- Mav moving in with his best friend's widow not long after he died and helping her with taking care of his best friend's kid --- but everyone who is closer to Mav knows he still feels guilty about Nick and that Carole and Bradley are the closest thing to family Mav has left so it's kind of brushed off.

Ice and Slider, who have kind of gradually became a family fixture too, coming to dinners and helping with Bradley when both Carole and Mav are busy, have a bit mixed feelings about this.

Mav and Carole do seem awfully close. And even with Slider knowing that it was Mav who originally introduced Goose and Carole to each other, they seem almost too synced up for it to be completely platonic or new. Mav is very natural as a parent-adjacent, too, and it might turn Ice into a gooey puddle of lovestruck idiot, but it also makes Slider a bit too aware of how fast the switch from Mav-the-fun-uncle to Mav-the-helicopter-dad was made.

If Slider was honest, he'd admit it's the jealousy speaking. He had a crush on Goose when they were in the USNA that was kind of hard to comprehend but the crush on Carole is even harder to comprehend because, well, she just lost her husband and he should not be thinking about his tragically-dead friend's widow like that, but also it's a bit weird that he had a crush on both people from one marriage. He's carefully balancing on what's appropriate and on how to make it easier for Carole and yet Maverick just slides into her life in a blink-and-you-missed-it moment. Maverick has no qualms about showing Carole affection, smothering her in hugs and cheek kisses and bringing her jumpers when they sit in the cold breeze in the porch and taking Bradley who had fallen asleep from her arms and swaying him around in his, never held back by some unspoken rules. Especially that Slider kind of sometimes sees those moments when Carole is looking at him, shyly, too, like she's battling with herself about how inappropriate it'd be if Slider had those feelings and she had those feelings back. They have the little coffee dates or he takes her and Bradley, just the three of them, shopping or to a museum, or he gives them a ride when their car doesn't start in the morning, and Carole looks at him with those huge eyes of hers all bright and bubbly and Slider---Slider can only think about how inappropriate it'd be.

Ice is, well, Ice, so he's being a bit emotionally constipated. He's in Denial, with capital D included. Maverick and Carole might be in sync but the two of them are the ones bickering like an old married couple. The locker room banter in present every day and Slider can swear that if they weren't in public, they would have fucked at least three times already after their so-called 'arguments'. He talks about Mav way too much, too, always thinking about what they can do for him and Carole, and where to take them and Bradley next. He's become addicted to Mav's surprisingly good cooking and have stopped eating spaghetti outside of Mav and Carole's house because it 'doesn't taste the same'. He takes Mav to clubs and bars to relax when he has a heavy week and it's as close to dates as Slider would put them. He's a bit weird about Carole being affectionate with Maverick, too, but in a different way --- he always looks away when she kisses Mav on the cheek or when they cuddle up on the sofa with Bradley lying across their laps. He always puts his nose in Mav's hair when they hug goodbye but barely gives Carole a pat on the shoulder. He teases Maverick every time of the day, too, but he's always smiling so softly when he does it, melting even more when Maverick grumbles in response instead of starting a fight. Whenever Maverick isn't looking, Ice looks at him like he's about to vanish from his life at the wrong word. He looks at him like that would be his life's biggest tragedy, too.

Despite all that, he still claims he 'doesn't like Mitchell like that' and that even if he did, Maverick wouldn't be interested, even though they both know Maverick is bi.

It kind of gets a bit weirder when, after almost two years since Goose's death, Bradley starts calling Mav 'dad'. It gives both Ice and Slider a heart attack, when Baby Goose says during their usual walk to the park that, Dad is taking me to the aquarium with Mom next week, maybe you can come, too. And Carole and Mav don't react aside from making the usual excuses of they might be busy, baby (like either Slider or Ice could ever say no to any of the three of them).

Mav, later, explains that Bradley was having some difficult time explaining who Maverick was in their family dynamic to his pre-school teachers and so they went with step-dad and so Bradley picked up on it and started using it sometime a week before the park trip. It was an obviously big change but he was still remembering and calling Nick 'dad' too, so they've decided whatever Bradley is most comfortable with will be what they'll go with.

It's a logical explanation, to both Ice and Slider, even if it'd sound a bit icky to anyone who didn't know Carole, Mav and Goose's dynamic well before. It also makes Slider wonder what he'd be if the step-dad title was already taken, even if the thought is shoved back deep into his mind as soon as it surfaces.

Ice is, well, still Ice, so he alternates between getting red in the face every time Baby Goose calls Mav dad while they're doing something cute and between getting incredibly quiet about it. Slider would bet that he is having an identity crisis as he's both always hated the idea of having his own kids and now he doesn't and because the person who is changing his mind is Maverick, of all people.

Then Ice and Slider get deployed for four months and when they come back, first hot rumor on base they hear is that Mav bagged his best friend's widow.

Obviously, at first they think it's a rumor but then the gossip girl of their squadron (their XO) confirms that Mav's file has been updated so he has two dependants, his wife and his now officially adopted son.

Slider feels like an idiot. Ice is sulking but he's in even bigger denial, saying he's been expecting this and that Mav and Carole were a good couple and would make each other happy and that they were already making a beautiful family with Bradley. It gets very awkward, very soon, especially that Mav and Carole don't say anything about it when they meet again.

In the meantime, Carole just had been made redundant after the school she was teaching hired a new full-time teacher who could work more hours and didn't have a kid to pick up from pre-school everyday around two. The payout she got from the Navy after Goose's death wasn't much and she could keep on being in and out of work for some time but Mav's deployment was getting closer and closer too and they had to revise all the possibilities. One being that Mav might not come back, too.

So they got married, on paper, no ceremony and with a city hall employee as the only witness. So she and Bradley could have some safety net if worst came to worst. So she could take Mav's newly signed life insurance and health benefits of a military spouse. So if the situation were reversed, Mav didn't have to struggle to get Bradley's custody.

[compacflt]

I was wondering if you had thoughts about how Ice and Mav's politics don't fully align with their actions? There was a post where you said Ice's politics are more socially liberal than Mav's but Mav is also the one who goes out to La Jolla to hit on guys before Ice, and later again when he's broken up with Ice, but Ice only goes out with women out of fear for his honor or whatever. Same with their respective thoughts on feminism, with Mav's mild respect for Charlie (telling Ice not all women fit the stereotype) but later Ice is the one who sends Juno to Mav's Top Gun class without telling him she's a woman and Ice has a respectful friendship with Juno. I think you said Ice is vaguely on the ace-aro spectrum (demi-homoromantic) which is a sort of fascinating irony that he doesn't have the words for it whereas Mav is the one with the theories about Ice's sexuality. Though with their hypocrisies and inconsistencies this all just feeds into their characterizations of the fact that they keep divorcing their actions from their spoken words from their identities.

okay going to take this point by point

1. yes i have addressed their politics in relation to their actions before, so maybe read this post and this post before you read this one, just to see where my other thoughts line up

2. gay republicans and conservatives do exist (at the very least certainly republicans and conservatives who have gay sex in secret)

3. before maverick is a political actor he is a human being, and the characterization that we are primarily given for him is that he is impulsive and reckless and doesn’t think through his actions. As ive written about many times before—from a story construction standpoint, his thoughtlessness is his number one most important character trait. He is both thoughtlessly dangerous (his hero’s “fatal flaw;” he can’t stop himself from making bad decisions) and thoughtlessly brilliant (the navy’s best and most daring and heroic pilot). He does what he wants without thinking about it; and he makes excuses and hollow promises whenever that plan doesn’t work out (“I know better than that. It will never ever happen again;” [it happens again] “I’m not gonna let you down. I promise.” [goose dies shortly thereafter]). His thoughtless impulsiveness overrides everything else. Maybe the act of having gay sex (to address your “he gets fucked in La Jolla before ice” point) is politically subversive, but for Maverick’s thoughtless character that we are shown in Top Gun, the most subversive possible thing would be to LABEL the gay sex and think through the consequences of it. To call a spade a spade and call himself gay or bi or queer or whatever. That would be the most subversive (and with mav, entirely unbelievable imo) possible thing. That takes conscious effort of thought, something maverick is near-incapable of doing. As long as he can get away with it without thinking about it, he’s politically in the clear, with regards to his character & character arc. If that makes sense. “Don’t think. Just do.” That’s literally his motto lmfao. He represents thoughtless action as an archetype; his politics come secondary to his desires

4. Their “respective thoughts on feminism” are divided into two camps: 1. “Professional as required by the law” and 2. “Sex pest mode.” They’re naval officers in the 1980s. Whether republican or democrat, that’s kind of par for the course. How men treat women can be a performance to other men. Any respect i made them show towards women had broader, more metatextual “need to move the conversation/story from A to B” reasoning behind it. See the first post I linked for much more on that.

5. i never said ice was on the ace/aro spectrum, or if i did i DEFINITELY meant it sarcastically. That could not be further from what i believe. This isn’t something I’ve ever discussed on this blog before, but a MASSIVE part of the philosophical discussion I’ve been trying to moderate within this project over the last year is the question— “do labels even work with characters under these very specific and extraordinarily extreme conditions and societal pressures?” It’s a question I took from my time studying early American history—the contexts of certain environments, and I would definitely count the elite officer ranks of the navy in the 90s and 2000s as one of these certain environments, simply Are Not Conducive to the easier (path of least resistance maybe) ways we civilians handle sexuality and friendship and trauma. There are so many variables and external and internal pressures within an environment like the upper ranks of career navy officers that sexual orientation labels lose all nuance and accuracy. I don’t think Ice (as i have written him) is gay. I don’t think he’s straight. I don’t think he’s bi. I think he’s an unlabelable product of too many variables for labels to have any effect on how he is perceived. Which, in our society built around labels and categories, is admittedly difficult to wrestle with. But doesn’t make it any less worth wrestling with.

6. Yes, ice and mav’s hypocrisy is the linchpin of the entire story.

They’re both trying to have their cake (“honor” and moral superiority based on the harmful traditional subjective morals arbitrated by elite navy officership) and eat it too (a fulfilling relationship with the love of their lives). & the point is that they cant. they have to settle for one.