*slider Balancing The Bottle Of Whiskey He Dared Mav To Down In One Go*: Let Him Continue Goosey

*slider balancing the bottle of whiskey he dared mav to down in one go*: let him continue goosey

mav, loudly clearing his throat and shaking out a VERY long sheet of paper: my dearest goose

goose, glancing up: yes?

mav, assuming a strong stance like he’s about to serenade him: my dearest nicky, words cannot express my adoration for you, nor my dedication to your side. nay, but I shall attempt anyways. your hair is silky like a really nice pillow, your eyes as deep as a river. your nose was drawn by the gods, and your mouth was painted with a rose. 

goose, turning to mav’s literal boyfriend, eyes wide: you aren’t going to stop him???

ice, mav’s aforementioned literal boyfriend, turning the page in his book: if I stop him now, he’ll just start over

mav, getting louder: YOUR HANDS-

* deep into a pitch black night at the mitchell-kazansky household *

pete: tom?

tom, half asleep: hm? what

pete: would you still love me if i was a-

tom: pete. maverick. darling, love of my life, my dear husband, it is 3 am. YOU FINISH THAT GODDAMN SENTENCE AND YOU'RE SLEEPING OUTSIDE-

Ice peeked around the door to see Mischi bouncing up and down in her Pack n Play, clutching her teddy to her chest. Sadie sat on the bed, searching through her phone, and made a satisfied noise when she found what she was looking for. She angled her phone towards Mischi, who beamed and said, “The dreamy song!” “That’s right! Remember who sings this, Mischi?” “Unca Tom!” The burning feeling in Ice’s throat inched up into his nose and behind his eyes, intensifying when Sadie pressed play on the video. There was some static, and then there was the sound of his own voice, only the slightest rasp to it from overuse. “Which number is this, Chip?” “Seven-ayyyyy!” Mischi cheered, in unison with Sarah on the other side of the camera. “Okay, y’know what I mean, don’t get excited, man,” the Ice of 2014 said, doing his best Davy Jones impression. 2014!Sarah laughed. The Ice of 2019 fought to keep his breathing steady. “It’s ‘cause I’m short, I know.” Ice heard himself strum a few familiar chords, and then: “Oh, I could hide ‘neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings; the six o’clock alarm would never ring…” Midway through the next verse, Ice felt a hand at the small of his back. Somehow, he managed not to flinch and turned around slowly, meeting Maverick’s eyes. He wanted to explain, to say that he’d recorded hundreds of videos in the aftermath of his diagnosis—songs, stories, messages to friends and family—in case of the worst, but hadn’t touched them once since finding out he was cancer-free, not wanting to somehow jinx his luck. Not wanting the reminder of what he’d lost. But Maverick didn’t say a word. All he did was offer his hand, and Ice’s throat closed completely when he took it; let Maverick wrap his arms around him. And from the guest room, the sound of Ice’s voice rang clear and true: “Cheer up, sleepy Jean; oh, what can it mean to a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?”

a scene from the first chapter of my icemav fic bring back that lovin' feelin', drawn by the incredible @patbbangg ❤️❤️❤️

okay quick shoutout to @polar-equinoxx here, because YOU ROCK! you're literally one of my favourite top gun & general artists ever!

you're so talented, you write & draw icemav + the other daggers so beautifully and i get so very excited every time when i see that you posted☆

(the way you draw ice's hair is just... mwah<3)

definitely check them out if you haven't!

off to rock am ring with my friends so the regular top gay posts will continue on tuesday:-D see ya!!!♡

(respectfully) DADDIES

no but seriously holy shit