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polar-equinoxx · 1 year

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I gave myself kiss prompt no. 45: “we shouldn’t do this” then they do so

I drew it (click for quality!!)

And then later I wrote it.

And now its on ao3 >:3

romantic fluff, sunsets, dadt, first kiss

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

We Shouldn’t☁️

third person

Maverick runs his hand along the jet’s nose from where he was perched on it’s step ladder, doing a last check before he goes back to his apartment after a long day of avoiding Ice, both in the air and on the ground. It was strange, he wasn’t exactly averse to him, especially as he’d declared them wingmen, but he would prefer not to come face to face with him. Maverick knew he didn’t want to see him right now, though; it was almost sunset and he was just about to fall asleep standing.

The sun was also just at the right height to shine through the doors and burn his eyes as badly as if he stared into the engine of his jet if it was on, so he unhooks his aviator sunglasses from where he’d put them in the collar of his flightsuit and puts them on.

He sighs and drops down from the ladder just as a familiar voice calls out his name.

“Maverick?”

Jesus what does he want? Maverick clenches his jaw slightly as he turns around from where he was stood. “Ice,”

“You alright?” he asks.

“Mhm,” Maverick replies, squinting at him even through the dark tinted sunglasses. “What do you want?”

“To ask you,” Ice starts off slowly. “Why you’ve been avoiding me,”

“I haven’t,” Maverick glances at Ice’s own aviators hooked around the chain of his dogtags.

Ice furrows his brow. “Yes you have,”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he frowns. He had been avoiding him, and he didn’t want to admit it, nor the reason why.

“Funny,” His voice said everything but that. “Since I gotta admit you’ve been helpfully called away every time I seem to get close to you,”

Ice noticed more than he would have liked him to. “Maybe you just have bad timing,”

“Bad.. timing?”

“Yup,” Maverick fixes his eyes on Ice’s even though he couldn’t see his. The sunglasses offered a layer of protection from his cold blue stare.

“Well it seems like you’re not being called away right now, so I’ll ask it again. Why have you been avoiding me?”

He was difficult to negotiate with, Maverick could give him that. And now he’d trapped him in a metaphorical corner and he hated that he didn’t know whether he hated it or not. “I’ve just been tired, after going up, surely you understa-”

“I understand that, but every single time? Even when I’ve tried to talk to you in the morning? Before even going up?”

Maverick clenches his jaw. “Yes,”

Ice exhales heavily. “You do know what being wingmen means, right?”

“Yes,” he says slowly.

“Then you should also know that the basis of that is being able to talk with one another,”

“What point are you trying to make?”

“The point of why you are avoiding me,”

“Well I’m not avoiding you now, am I?” Maverick could feel the air around them starting to crackle with tension.

“That’s only because I’ve cornered you,”

“You didn’t think I’ve noticed that?”

“You don’t notice things very often, so no,”

“I don’t notice things? Are you kidding?”

“No, Mitchell, I’m not, but if I have to spell it out for you I will,”

“I’m not a child, I don’t need you to,”

“Then just tell me why,” Ice takes a step closer to him, and his cheeks suddenly felt hot.

And out myself? “No,”

Ice blinks. “No?”

“That’s what I said,”

He’s silent for a moment, and Maverick thinks he won this round.

“Then tell me why you haven’t noticed me checking up on you ever since we came back from the Layton,”

Now it’s Maverick’s turn to be silent. He hadn’t realised it was that often that Ice had been trying to talk to him, he hadn’t realised he had been avoiding him for that long. “I haven’t,”

“I know,” Maverick realises his voice wasn’t angry, it was hurt, which was worse.

“I-” He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if there was anything to say, so he removes his protection, holding the sunglasses in both his hands, staring at the crossbar linking the black lenses.

Ice stands away from him, not looking at him, facing the shadows, the back of his hair dyed gold by the sun, his face expressionless. “I’ll go,”

“No, no wait Ice-” Maverick lunges to grab his hand.

Then Ice’s eyes were on his and he felt as unstable as an autumn leaf in a cool breeze.

“Don’t,”

“Why not?”

And his words fail him again, so he does the next best thing. He kisses him.

It’s fast and dangerous, just like Maverick, and he immediately lets go of his hand and steps back from him, toward safety, towards the jet behind him. “That’s why,” he says, his cheeks flaming.

Ice stares at him, lips slightly parted, feeling everything and nothing at once. All that time, all that time checking up on Maverick and him leaving or making an excuse, it all was a ruse to distract him from the fact he was feeling the exact same as he was? The fact that they were hiding their feelings from both each other and themselves for... what? The worry that what they were feeling was unrequited?

And all he wants is to kiss him again. So he steps closer to him and grabs his head and smashes his lips against his.

The kiss and the ones succeeding it are heaven, are fast and slow, everything. Ice’s back hits the wall of the hangar, he doesn’t care, Maverick is there, his arms around him, trying to get as close as he can. The kisses are so long, neither of them can breathe, so that’s the only reason they let go.

But Maverick doesn’t lean back in.

“We can’t do this,” his voice is hushed as he presses his hands to Ice’s shoulders, pulling back from the taller pilot.

Ice fixes his eyes on him. “I don’t care,” his voice was just as quiet, his fingers gentle on Maverick’s cheek.

“You should,” Maverick replies, wishing he wasn’t suddenly doubting it, wishing he wasn’t going through this, the one time he’d let his feelings for the aviator slip and he’d kissed him, and here he was, telling him that they shouldn’t do this. “It won’t last, the Navy’ll find out and we’ll be discharged,” He tries to step back, but Ice’s arm around his waist stops him.

“We won’t be found out,”

Maverick drops his eyes from Ice’s, and looks down to his chest, the setting sun was sparkling in his eyes, his aviators were on the floor a few feet away, having been knocked out of his hands. He wanted to kiss him again, his chest was aching as if they’d been apart for months, and not forty-five seconds.

Ice adjusts his hand ever so slightly, tipping Maverick’s head up just enough for him to look back at him. “Mav,” he says. “The Navy isn’t here,”

He opens his mouth to say something, but in one swift movement, Ice has spun them both around and kissed him.

And Maverick melts. Melts into the kiss, into Ice’s hand tilting his head up, into his hand on his lower back, into him, into Ice. He has that aura around him, Maverick wasn’t too sure what it was, but now he knows, he knows for sure. Its the aura of his hidden feelings for him, that Maverick had misinterpreted as... whatever, something else. He didn't really care about that now.

He was kissing him after all.

#ms tg #ms art #ms fanfics #oh my god i love them so much wth #i coloured the art using a screencap of the og movie as a palette and. omg????#i also did the thing which I see other people doing everywhere and that is using one colour for the sketch and I didn’t understand the hype-#-for that until I did it myself and THEN i was like. oh #icemav #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 1986 #top gun fanfiction #icemav fic

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ultra-puzzlemaster · 6 months

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A bit late but for the @layton-npc-appreciation-week, I wanted to talk about Beth from The Last Specter:

Mostly because I've only now realized how important she's for the plot, years after playing LS for the first time.

Spoilers for Last Specter/Spectre's Call ahead!

So Beth worked as a maid for the Barde family, but got fired shortly before Evan's death, then started working in the Triton household. Which means she's the one who can tell you the most about both families and how things changed when the Specter appeared. And she does so!

Her first and perhaps most important action was actually before the game started. If you remember what Luke says…

That's right, she's the one who let Luke know about the flute being sold at the black market! She may not be aware of it but it's thanks to her that Layton and the other get to meet the Black Ravens and learn about Barde, and ultimately

In fact, if you think about it, perhaps she could have told them even more about this flute if they had asked her, since:

She already knew Arianna was the one playing it all along.

But that's not all! She has a role that might be less important for the professor but crucial for us players.

Indeed, she's the one giving us the biggest clues about Doland being an impostor:

In game, Layton realizes and proves he's the mastermind thanks to Luke's notes, which we sadly can't see.

But if we listen to Beth and help her, she'll tell us how Doland suddenly changed after the Specter appeared: his beautiful penmanship became nearly impossible to read, he started going out who-knows-where a lot, didn't gave her clear instructions like he used to, and got mean to her.

Another character, Jasmine, notices and mentions Doland's change in character but she doesn't say much except "he ignored me and my puzzle do you want to solve it?" while Beth gives us an entire puzzle based on Descole's awful handwriting.

And it makes sense: since they work together, she's the most likely to see the cracks in his act, and since he doesn't really care about her, she didn't get kidnapped nor blackmailed.

Other notable things she can tell us include:

Mentioning the oracle and that Doland knows about it.

Another clue that there's something hidden in the cellar, and that when Emmy thought she heard voices it wasn't just her imagination. (also the poor woman started to doubt her own sanity because of Descole)

She confirmed (although was there any doubt about it?) that Barde's death and his will are very strange, even if they were confirmed by the famous police officer Third-Eyed Jakes. She doesn't say it in front of Luke but she suspects that Clark killed Barde and now his ghost is haunting the house.

Speaking of Jakes, she informs you later that Clark left with him.

If you go see her before going to save Arianna she'll tell you that both Clark and Doland left without a word. Layton knows what's going on.

Not a hint but she also has this line:

Poor Beth struggles with Fake Doland's instructions and bad temper to the point she has to repeatedly ask Layton to help, she gives him puzzles (which he likes) and then feels guilty about it. This woman deserves a break. And someone to tell her it's not her fault Doland was so rude to her.

There's a lot more to talk about: how working under a manipulator's supervision affected her self-esteem, how her role in the story was overlooked, how the game treated her character… (I could probably make a whole post about sexism, working classes and the devaluation of social work… but not today)

I'll end with this picture from the credits where we can see Beth regained her place in the Barde's family:

If you've read to the end, thank you very much!

And remember: whoever you are, whatever you do, you matter, and you're more important than you may think.

#professor layton #professor layton and the last specter #professor layton and the spectre's call #last specter #spectre's call #layton npc appreciation week #pl beth #arianna barde #pl4day #screenshots #pl screenshots #no jokes in the alt text this time sorry

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partywithponies · 19 days

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Old Man Gene Hunt headcanons (for a "Alex returns to 2008 post-series 2 and meets a 74 year old Gene" AU that I may or may not do something with one day):

(Under a cut because this got long and I might as well have just written a fic)

Generally very lonely. The charges against him were dropped, but Ray, Chris, Shaz, Viv, and the gang all never fully believed he didn't shoot her on purpose, and he never bothered making new friends or getting close to anyone else

Has a tiny ridiculous dog (a very fluffy pomeranian in my head) called Sundance who he insults constantly but secretly dotes on

Unofficially gained possession of all of Alex's belongings when she "died" in 1982, couldn't get the energy to sort through and get rid of them, so just took most of it with him whenever he moved and still just has most of it in boxes in his flat and his lockup in 2008

Also still has the quattro in his lockup, and looks after it and keeps it in good condition, but doesn't really drive it out anymore

Currently drives around in a really shit transit van that he bought as a "project" with the intention to fix it up and sell it on, because a concerned neighbour told him he needed a hobby, but he got bored halfway through so now it's half painted and just has a lot of odd pieces of wood and engine parts in the back. Also has a mattress in the back because he drives out to the muddle of nowhere and sleeps in it sometimes, when he's either avoiding people and doesn't want to be bothered at his flat, or is just avoiding being alone with his thoughts at his flat (he doesn't have an office to sleep in to achieve this anymore)

His hair is thinning but fairly long, because he can't often be bothered getting it cut

(He genuinely isn't doing very well mentally and hasn't been for a long time, but if ever anyone voices concern or suggests he get help, they receive a barrage of verbal and sometimes physical abuse, so most people have given up on him)

EXTREMELY Grumpy Old Man when it comes to modern technology. Owns a laptop and a mobile, but point blank refuses to learn how to text or use the internet until he meets Molly and she becomes determined to drag him kicking and screaming into the 21st century (she's the one person he won't just tell to piss off. He's actually surprisingly soft for her)

Also owns a gun, very illegally. Does a lot of very illegal things these days

Is actually still surprisingly very strong and fit, for a fat old man who drinks and smokes even worse than he did before. Has drunk himself into the hospital a few times but always bounces back

Shortly before retiring in the late 90s, saw younger Alex at some kind of police conference, recognised her instantly, realised Alex had been telling the truth, and became a little bit unhinged. Just kind of obsessed with her. Moved back to London (had been working in Birmingham at the time) just to be closer to her, and basically stalked her for the next ten years, telling himself he "just wanted to keep an eye on her" and "just wanted to make sure she was okay", but after that first conference never actually let her see him

Gets into a lot of fights with criminals who hurt or threaten Alex, and at one point in the early 00s beats up and hospitalises an abusive ex-boyfriend of Alex's, getting him to leave her alone. Alex never figures out what happened to the ex to make him suddenly stop bothering and threatening her

Is actually the one to find Alex and get help after she's shot. Was keeping an extra close eye on her because he knew it had to happen soon, and when Layton took her, he knew where to look, and just went to where he first saw her

Didn't intend for her to see him after she wakes up again, and when they do end up meeting by accident (he was called into the station to give a statement on something at the same time she happened to be in visiting her colleagues for the first time since leaving hospital), he pretended he didn't know her, because he thought Alex would be able to move in quicker and ultimately be happier if she thought it was all in her head

By the time he realised that this had actually made everything so much worse, and that she was rapidly deteriorating both mentally and physically and looked more and sick and miserable every time he saw her, he still didn't say anything to her, because he thought if he said anything now she'd be really really pissed off at him

Only finally decides to talk to her when things have escalated so far that Alex's boss and Evan have both become so concerned that they've decided to get Alex sectioned, and Gene, upon hearing this, immediately "rescues" (kidnaps) Alex, only explaining everything once they're already on the road, and the two of them go on the run together

(They're both severely mentally unwell broken people, but they've decided they're going to look after each other now, so it's okay <3)

(Alex knows she should be super pissed at him, but right now she's too relieved to worry about that)

Gene is honestly confused and bewildered that Alex wants to be with him not only in the sense of wanting to stay on this impromptu roadtrip with him, but also in the biblical sense, given that he's 39 years older than her now and not in great shape, and she's still gorgeous even considering she hasn't really been looking after herself, and at first tries to nobly resist her attempts to seduce him, but she's quite persistent and he gives in quite quickly

(Yes, they fuck in the van)

Molly is at first a little weirded out by how old and weird he is when she meets her mum's new boyfriend, but she gets on really well with him and soon loves him. She gets on better with him than she does Alex (she's struggling to adjust to how different and damaged her mum is now and frustrated by the fact people keep pretending everything's fine, and they argue a lot, but they're trying)

(She's in her troubled preteen era, unstandably. very angry at the world, keeps getting in fights and bunking off school and getting in trouble. she finds Gene a kindred spirit and a sympathetic ear when she needs to rant, because he understands that people trying to comfort her or get her to talk about her emotions is just going to make her angrier)

Gene and Alex eventually come home and move in together and reunite with the quattro (very touching, that's their baby), and Molly gradually moves in with them full time (whenever Evan or Molly's dad try to take her away, she just runs away back to Gene and Alex anyway, so they might as well let her)

Evan is fucking furious. He doesn't trust Gene at all and is convinced he's manipulating both Alex and Molly. Evan becomes practically apoplectic when Gene and Alex become engaged

Gene and Alex are still both very confused and exhausted by everything and both aren't 100% sure they're not just completely mad, but eventually come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter at the end if the day if any of this is really real, as long as it feels real and they get to face it together

#a2a #ashes to ashes #galex #gene hunt #alex drake

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redfurrycat · 10 months

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🤠💰☠️🐓Organised Crime Fic Recs🐓☠️💰🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: ALCwriter, Anonymous, Dalearden, Elizabethgee, Lemqnie, Mackwinnon, Renai_chan, Res_judicata, ToukoJalorda003.

> Daily Heroes > Vigilantes, Superheroes & Supervillains

white picket fence by res_judicata {M}

Whenever anyone from the kids’ school asks, Jake always just smiles politely and explains that his husband works for a big international company and that’s why he’s overseas a lot. He doesn’t say that Bradley is arguably the ‘director’ of said company, nor that the ‘company’ in question is the Mafia. He knows a few of the other parents have their suspicions and that he and Bradley are the subject of their fair share of rumours and gossip. Jake just doesn’t let it get to him, he has his beautiful family and gorgeous husband, the nosy PTA mothers can go fuck themselves. For every, oh my, how can your husband bear to leave such a lovely husband at home with the kids for so many months of the year, Jake can read between the lines.

Live Until We Die by Renai_chan {E}

Speak Softly, Love

Jake leaves behind his crappy life in Texas and moves to California. There, he meets Bradley, a gorgeous man who works at a charity helping the homeless. They fall in love, and everything is sunshine and rainbows until he learns that Bradley is, in fact, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, heir to the empire of his godfather, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, who rules the underbelly of Los Angeles with ice-cold ruthlessness. Suddenly, Jake find himself embroiled in the dangers of the LA Mafia

Live Until We Die: Outtakes

A compilation of one-shots and drabbles of the Mafia AU.

Along the Razor's Edge

Jake's father makes contact after more than a year when the family farm goes into foreclosure, and Jake is torn between helping save his childhood home and leaving his father to his fate. Bradley steps in, but his plan to help Jake isn't received well by Jake's father, and Jake finds himself caught between his new family and his own flesh and blood.

An Offer He Can't Refuse by Dalearden {_}

Detective Jake Seresin has been on the trail of the Layton gang for a long time. When he starts getting too close he finds himself drawn into their world to the point where he starts to question everything he thought he knew about who he is and what he does. The fact he's also undeniably attracted to one Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw only serves to further complicate matters.

Whiskey Neat by ALCwriter {M}

Jake is fresh out of the Navy and living with his sister to help her through a nasty divorce. While he scrambles to find a way to keep his sister and niece safe he unintentionally falls into the tangles of Bradley Bradshaw. He knows Bradley is most likely bad news and he most definitely knows he should stay away from him. But when shit hits the fan- he has nowhere else to turn. a.k.a Jake gets mixed up with Bradley who just so happens to be a mafia boss.

The Only Exception by mackwinnon {E}

Organized crime AU. Escort Jake meets Bradley in a club while he's with another client. Bradley's instantly intrigued and makes Jake an offer he can't refuse. It's just business. Until it isn't.

wash out the salt from my hands by elizabethgee {E}

Jake's having a great day. He's just won the TOPGUN competition, he met a handsome, mysterious stranger at The Hard Deck who's definitely interested in taking him to bed... What could possibly go wrong?

cosa nostra (this thing of ours) by lemqnie {_}

Bradley is the prettiest thing Jake has ever laid eyes on. It's a shame he's a rival gang's heir and Jake has to kill him.

When Danger Comes Home (Don’t Ever let it Roost) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

Bradley adored his job, and it had been his dream to go into law enforcement as a kid. He had everything he’d ever wanted - except for a romantic partner, but he’d never even consider dragging them into his dangerous personal life. …Until he took a smuggling case involving Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, a known member of the city’s organized crime syndicate. Maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew, this time.

I only pray (don’t fall away from me) by Anonymous {E}

Jake Seresin has an acquired taste. It comes in the form of the clubs most desired; Rooster. His wide doe eyes, ridiculous pornstache that fits him so perfectly, and his tan, toned body. And what Jakes wants, Jake gets.

#Organised Crime Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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film-in-my-soul · 9 months

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Icemav missing scene please!

.⋆｡°✩ Maverick and Ice have a little goodbye after the Layton rescue. ✩°｡⋆.

Maverick is still buzzing, even two days later, even when the threat is gone and he's being told to pack his things so he can head back to dry land, where he thinks he needs to be, where it should be safe. He tells himself it's all that adrenaline from nearly getting shot out of the damn sky. From almost getting Slider and Hollywood, Wolf and Iceman shot down, too. If he ignores a closer, more probably truth, well, that doesn't have to be between anyone except him and his front seat.

He's folding his spare uniform in precise corners, following the sharp creases of it, and lets the routine settle him enough that the slight tremor under his skin doesn't make him shake. It's a familiar comfort, arranging his life into a box. Each fold and tuck as ingrained in him as slipping on his flight suit.

There are only a few hours left before he's on transport. He's said his goodbyes to Wolf and Wood, both of them staying on for their redeployment, and Sundown had wished him farewell and good luck in the mess hall that morning, his belongings already moved out of the temporary bunk they'd been put in. He knows there are more people he wants to shake hands with, tell 'em to keep the skies warm for him while he goes and teaches, but Maverick keeps himself to the room, worried the jitters still living in him will make him do something stupid, get his position at Mirimar revoked.

There's no Goose to temper him now, no RIO to back up his bullshit, no-

A knock against the frame of the door Maverick left open stops him cold, spiraling thoughts and all.

It's both usurping and a shock to see Ice leaning there, hip cocked and chin tipped down, eyes flicking over Maverick's mostly filled pack. He'd been up on a hop with Slider when Maverick had been given the departure information. Someone must have told Ice he was shipping back to California. As far as Maverick knew, Ice and Slider were getting dropped off at some European port for their next assignment.

For a moment, neither of them says anything, Ice just standing there, watching, like he's looking for an answer that might have been hiding in the layers of Maverick's shirts and Maverick watching him back, throat tight for some unknown reason.

Though, if he lets himself consider it, he might know. He could guess, at least.

They had their moment on the tarmac after it all. They were wingmen, friends now, and to pretend it wasn't at least a little bit cowardly to cut and run without a metaphorical Dear John was, well... cowardly.

"Teaching?" Ice doesn't say it like Maverick thought he might, all shit-eating and sarcastic, no follow-up like Wood had, ribbing him hard and asking if he was gonna ask the female cadets to turn in 'extra credit.' Ice sounds strangely approving, and for some dumb reason, Maverick wants to bristle at that.

"Yeah. Looks like you're gonna have to find someone else to keep sharp on your wing." It's more bitter than he means to be, than he should be, but Ice, catching him off guard again, doesn't rise to the admittedly weak bait. He smirks instead, snorting with an amused shake of his head as he stands up straight and walks into the room. He saddles up beside Maverick and knocks their shoulders together lightly before snagging the half-done undershirt from his fingers.

"Nah. They wouldn't measure up."

And that- that's a goddamn compliment, isn't it? Maverick's almost too stunned to speak, so instead, when he catches the sloppy way Ice is tucking his clothes into his pack, Maverick jabs him with his elbow, laughing when the taller man almost trips to get away from the strike.

"Guess I'll just have to train 'em up so they can."

"A dozen more Mavericks flying around? Don't think the Navy will go for that."

Maverick lifts his head and catches Ice's eyes. There's a lightness there, a fondness he hadn't been expecting, but it looks right, living there on Ice's normally stern-set mouth and pinched eyes, and just like that, all that restless energy rolls out of Maverick like it wasn't there to begin with.

"Guess we'll just have to see about that Iceman."

A pause, a look, a quirk of a mouth, and another nudge, maybe just for the sake of the pressure of touch.

"Guess we will."

Ficlet Bingo!

#icemav #icemav ficlet #top gun ficlet #ficlet bingo #blog game

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adiduck · 8 months

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okay okay, one more guess

86’ ice n mav waking up in 22 for the first time. like getting hatched out of whatever lab or elsewhere they get pulled to

EVERYONE wants this scene and I refuse to write it because I genuinely have NO IDEA how the heck they convince these two that this is real and not some sort of kidnapping attempt or very strange hallucination/dream LMFAO we are all just going to accept that it works. In consolation, my friend, please accept the first scene with either of them as a POV character:

Ice isn’t sure what exactly he’s expecting when he and Mav walk into Top Gun thirty-three years in their own future.

It is emphatically not what he gets.

Next to him, Mav whistles, low and shocked. “Well, looks like you did pretty well for yourself,” he says.

Ice doesn’t answer. He is in a staring contest with a picture of himself, clearly older, in the front hallway of one of the most elite naval aviation schools in the country. Older him has four stars on his shoulders and is staring down the cameraman--and the viewer, presumably--like he is fully daring someone to comment.

What the fucking Christ? Nobody thought to warn him?

“Oh, hey, look, it’s that picture of us from the newspapers after Layton,” Mav says, and Ice drags his eyes away from--well, himself as the CINCPACFLT, no, COMPACFLT, COMPACFLT, they changed it--to look behind him at the picture literally right across from his official Navy portrait as a four-star Admiral. It is, indeed, the picture from the papers--the two of them, disheveled and hyped up on the adrenaline of surviving six MiGs all shooting at them at once, grinning fit to be tied and shaking hands.

“Good to know I’ve made it into your shrine,” Mav says, apparently kind of entertained. “They weren’t kidding when they said the future remembers us as a good team, huh?”

Ice shakes his head, shoulders unwinding a little in spite of himself. It’s really hard to be worked up at all this in the face of Mav’s cocky good cheer. “We’re going to be late,” he says, and turns away from the picture.

“We’re going to be late anyway,” Mav says, and takes two long strides to catch up to Ice. “Do we even know which way we’re going?”

“Other way,” says a voice--the same voice, but a little deeper, a slight gravel to it. Ice turns his head, and then snaps to attention and salutes, Mav next to him doing the same, as a figure he hadn’t really noticed before pushes off where he’s leaning against the corner and walks over to them. It’s Mav, but it’s not--older, for sure, with laugh lines around his eyes and cut deeper into his mouth. His hair’s cut a little different, and the color’s lighter--a dark gray, Ice realizes, as the light catches it in places. The slope of his eyebrows is a little softer, too, and the tilt of his mouth assessing. His eyes on them are the same though--sharp and green, taking them both in slowly, like he’s trying to decide what to do with them.

He’s wearing a Captain’s uniform, in the way that looks natural--like he’s been wearing it for years. Who knew Maverick Mitchell would ever make Captain?

Captain Mitchell stops in front of them now, returns the salute. And then he smiles, the same smile Ice is familiar with on a much older face, flashing slightly crooked teeth. “Lieutenants Kazansky and Mitchell,” he greets. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Next to Ice, Mav is practically vibrating out of his skin.

“No harm done, sir,” Ice says carefully. “We didn’t realize we were meeting you this early.”

“Oh, you’re not,” the Captain says. “I was never here.” He winks at Ice. “But Cyclone’s a hard ass, and if you wander down that way you really will be late. He’s down the right fork.” The Captain points.

“...Ah,” Ice says, voice going a little wry. “Thank you, sir.”

The Captain grins again. “Pretty sure it’s rude to tell your superior officer he’s full of shit even in your own head, Lieutenant Kazansky.” Ice freezes. The Captain laughs, and turns to go. “See you both later.”

“...That’s it?” bursts out of Mav’s mouth. He looks a bit startled after, like he didn’t mean to say it.

The Captain turns to look at Mav--at his younger self. For a moment they stare at each other, silent.

Then the Captain smiles again--different this time. A twist to his mouth. “That’s it, Lieutenant,” he says. “I’ll see you later.” And then he turns back around, rounds a corner in the hallway, and is gone.

For a moment, they’re both silent, standing alone in the hallway.

“How long was he standing there?” Mav explodes.

Ice sighs. “Does it matter?” He turns to go down the right fork.

“Yes, it matters,” Mav says, turning with him and taking two long strides to catch up to Ice. Ice smirks. Mav elbows him. “Shut it. But yeah, he was scoping us out.”

“He’s going to have to train us, and this is weird as shit,” Ice points out. “Makes sense to see how we’re taking it. He did point us in the right direction.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Mav grumbles.

Ice eyes him. “You think he sent us the wrong way on purpose?”

Mav grumbles, but doesn’t say he does. Ice shrugs, and for a bit they continue down the hallway until they find a plaque with numbers.

“Looks like this is the right way,” Ice says.

“Oh, fuck off,” Mav says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Ice snorts, and they keep walking.

“He’s not married or anything, you know,” Mav says, out of the blue. “Married to the job I guess.”

Ice hums. He hadn’t looked at his own file--there were more important things to know for his first day. They weren’t going to meet him, they’d been told, just Mav, and didn’t that make a lot of fucking sense now--

Anyway. Anyway. It’d seemed to him that there were some things he shouldn’t know yet about himself.

In hindsight, maybe the file would have been that warning he was missing when he walked in, Ice thinks wryly.

Mav shrugs. “Means Charlie and I don’t make it. Bit of a downer.”

Ah. Ice glances over at him, nudges their shoulders together. “Maybe you can ask him what happened--preempt whatever the issue was.”

“Maybe,” Mav says. “Naw, but I’m excited to meet Bradley!” He turns, grinning. “Did you see that? Goose’s kid! He became a pilot! Good enough to be on this mission, even. Have you met him back in our time?”

Ice has not met Bradley Bradshaw. He’s seen him, once--in his mother’s arms at Goose’s funeral, dressed in a little black suit and crying because he didn’t understand, because everyone around him was sad, because he missed his dad and didn’t get yet why he hadn’t come back.

Goose was probably away a lot as far as Bradley was concerned. Ice wonders if he understands even a month later that his dad will never come home.

“I haven’t,” Ice admits. “Guess I’ll be doing this a bit backwards.”

“He’s a great kid,” Mav says, smiling in a way that feels--strange. Not forced, per se. Sad. Wistful. Still fond. “He looks just like Goose, really--even at four. And, uh, a bit older now, obviously.” He trails off, smile falling off his face. Bradley Bradshaw is now older than Nick “Goose” Bradshaw would ever be.

“Damn, but Goose’d be proud,” Mav mutters eventually, quietly.

“I’ll bet,” Ice says, and Mav falls silent for real, lost in thought. Ice clenches his jaw, knocks their shoulders together again. Mav jostles like he’s waking up, gives Ice a distracted-looking smile.

Ice doesn’t know what to say. He never has, about this. He’d barely managed to scrape ‘I’m sorry’ out of the core of him the first time, and that was the least Mav had deserved.

He doesn’t have to figure it out now, fortunately. In front of them looms an office door, Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson on a simple plaque outside.

“Ready?” Ice asks.

Mav snorts. “Born ready,” he says, and does the honors of knocking.

“Come in,” a man calls out.

Here we go, Ice thinks, as Mav reaches for the doorknob, pushes it open for them to walk through. Fire or clear.

#adi is a writer #wip snippet #ask game #operation groundhog au #you may make as many guesses as you want!#I am personally having a lot of fun and have actually made progress on some wip scenes as a result of this #I will continue to answer as long as people send asks :D

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lutiaslayton · 9 months

Text

Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva

ＰＡＲＴ　０４

〚ＦＩＲＳＴ〛〚ＰＲＥＶ〛〚ＮＥＸＴ〛

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.

This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.

＊ The Crown Petone Theatre

A few days later, and here we were on our way to the Crown Petone: all three of us in the Laytonmobile, with Emmy on the driver’s seat.

“Professor, do you believe that eternal life is possible?”

As he answered, the professor kept his eyes locked on the brochure about the opera that he was reading.

“It is too soon to tell for sure, Luke. But we may hope to find the answer to this whole mystery once we arrive at the theatre.”

It was Emmy who had found the brochure. For her, it must have been an easy task to find it even before the performance would take place. I hoped I would one day learn to be as efficient as her at gathering clues…

“Then, let’s hurry it up a bit!”

Without warning, Emmy suddenly pressed her foot against the accelerator. Steering left, then right, then left again back and forth, she overtook car after car. This shook me so much that I screamed against my will.

“Emmy, w-wait, be careful!”

Still driving, she took a second to peek at me from the corner of her eye, and she smirked.

“You’d better get used to this sort of thing, if you want to be Professor Layton’s… second assistant.”

“S… second assistant!?”

There she was, teasing me again. I knew I was falling into her game, but I simply couldn’t let anyone call me second to anything!

“I’m not his assistant!” I shouted heartily.

“Oh, really now?”

“I’m the professor’s apprentice! And not just any apprentice…”

I thrust my finger forward with all my might.

“I’m his apprentice… Number one!”

I did it! I outsmarted her!

However, my satisfaction was only temporary…

“And I assume that the professor confirmed it?” she asked with a devilish grin.

Even if he had, this was just something I had said in the spur of the moment, without thinking… Well, it seemed like I still couldn’t compete with her after all.

“Emmy, how is your investigation going?”

Thankfully, the professor’s words had come to my rescue and distracted her. Once again, as soon as she was asked, Emmy regained a serious expression and reported her findings.

“It seems that the girl Janice mentioned is not the only one who ‘gained eternal life,’” she explained. “A quick search shows that there are several others who allegedly obtained it… And rumours are spreading all across London, saying that some shady characters would be giving ‘eternal life’ through some sort of transaction.”

The professor hummed. “Eternal Life… The Eternal Kingdom…” he muttered, deep in thought.

“‘The Eternal Kingdom’ is the first opera that Oswald Whistler has written in a long time,” Emmy completed with a nod, seeking his confirmation.

I had already done my research on that. Where were my notes on it?

“Oswald Whistler… Whistler…” I murmured as I flicked through my notebook, and soon found my answers. “The friend who came back to life was named Melina Whistler. Professor, they have the same last name!”

From the driver’s seat, Emmy gave me a thumbs up and winked. She was praising my results! I smiled back.

“Melina was Oswald Whistler’s daughter,” the professor said as he handed me the brochure.

The first page showed a picture of a very beautiful woman with symmetric and straight hair. Her big eyes seemed to stare right into me…

Right under her picture, the caption read: “I dedicate this opera to my late daughter, Melina.”

His late daughter… It was hard to believe that someone with such a bright smile was no longer with us.

Was Mr Whistler aware that a seven-year-old girl was claiming to be her, having come back from the dead… and with eternal life?

I casually turned to the next page, and my eyes widened when I saw the face of someone I had not at all expected.

“Professor, this is Dr Schrader!”

Here he was indeed. A picture of Dr Andrew Schrader, the professor’s mentor, shaking hands with Mr Whistler, had instantly caught my eye.

“I wouldn’t be so surprised, Luke. This opera is based on the legend of the immortal kingdom of Ambrosia. Dr Schrader has been researching this topic for years.”

The immortal kingdom of Ambrosia? Newspapers could be so unreliable. The article I had checked in the library didn’t say anything about that at all.

I instantly wrote down this new information in my notebook.

“Ambrosia is a kingdom shrouded in mystery. Only a fraction of its crest has been discovered and publicly documented… And its exact location is still unknown.”

Just as I finished writing everything down, the car slid into the vicinity of the theatre and stopped.

The sea breeze felt very cold on my cheeks as I jumped out of the Laytonmobile. The Crown Petone Theatre had a very unusual design, built all alone and right above the sea.

“They say that it was built in the image of Ambrosia,” the professor said as an answer to my silent question.

Right as we arrived, dusk started turning to darkness, and the opera lights turned on all at once. The dazzling beauty of this spectacle before the real performance left all three of us speechless for a little while.

Somehow, this did not feel like a real scenery. It rather looked just like the castles I could see in the picture books that my mother would read to me when I was little…

“What is the legend about, Professor?”

Looking into the horizon, he took in the scent of the sea breeze, then started his tale.

“The legend of Ambrosia, the Immortal Kingdom, goes like this…”

　⇚　　　　　　　⇛

#professor layton #layton's book club #luke triton #hershel layton #emmy altava #eternal diva #eternal diva novel #translation #professor layton and the eternal diva

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cap-tveit-ed · 23 days

Text

More than One Way to Win the Ring Toss

Danny Bailey x Reader

You grew up in Schmigadoon, and from the time you were 12, you thought Danny Bailey was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. The more Mildred Layton warned your mother to keep you far away from him, the more you wanted him, but you could never meet his gaze, even as he helped you onto the carousel, as he’d done so many times over the past 7 years.

“Up you go, Little Lady,” Danny said with his dazzling smile.

You held his hand as you lifted up into the stirrup, but your foot slipped, and you fell with your back against his chest. He grabbed you around the waist to keep you standing, but his touch made you weak in the knees. Before you could fall again, he scooped you up and set you on a nearby bench.

“Whoa! Maybe you better sit this one out, darlin’.”

You blushed and nodded, but you still wouldn’t look directly at him. He got down on one knee, forcing you to focus on him. His eyes were the brightest shade of blue. You looked flushed, and he reached up to feel your forehead.

“Want me to call for Doc Lopez?” Danny asked you.

You stammered, “I’ll be fine. Thanks. It’s just warm is all.”

Still kneeling in front of you, he unbuttoned your mint green cardigan, and the backs of his hands brushed against your breasts. Your nipples hardened, which he couldn’t fail to notice through your white sundress. He smirked.

“I’ll fetch you some water before I start the ride, Miss…?”

“Oh, sorry,” you said as you tucked your honey colored hair behind your ear. “I’m (y/n).”

“Well, Miss (y/n), I’m Danny, Danny Bailey. Pleased to meet you, officially,” he said as he untucked your hair and winked.

He balanced by grabbing your thigh as he stood. You creamed your panties.

Danny sang along with the carousel music, and he gave you a little wave on every rotation. Another queue formed, and you admired his perfect ass while he ran the ride a second time. When it finished, he shut the music off and came to sit by you.

“How you feeling, pretty girl? Do you think you’re comin’ down with something?”

You wanted to answer “Yes, lust.” But your shyness stopped you, and you shook your head no.

“Carnival is closin’, but if you want one more ride, I have an idea,” Danny said, and reached to stroke the side of your face. “Whaddya say, Kid? Interested?”

“More than you know,” you surprised yourself by answering and staring into his eyes.

Danny shut the carousel down, then came and took your hand. He hummed as he led you to the Tunnel of Love. Danny lifted you up onto the deck from below.

“Rosebuds, huh, (y/n). Why am I not surprised?!”He said referring to your panties, causing you to blush again. He helped you balance as you stepped into the swan, and said, “This can be real relaxin’ if you ride alone.”

“But I don’t want to ride alone,” you said.

Danny hopped in the swan, put his arm around you and said, “(y/n), I’ve seen you many times, but you never talk to me, unless you ring me up at the general store.”

You couldn’t believe he knew where you worked and replied, “I didn’t think you would want to talk to the likes of me.”

“A lovely face with a gorgeous body. Yeah, I’d like to talk. I’d like to do more than talkin,” Danny said as he leaned in for a kiss.

Danny’s tongue grazed your lips, and you immediately opened your mouth for him. You’d kissed boys before, but it was never warm and wonderful like this. You were disappointed when the ride was over much too quickly.

“Care for a second round? And maybe a third,” he asked as he trailed a finger from your lips down to your cleavage.

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly.

He smiled, and as you rounded the curve into the tunnel, he unbuttoned the top your dress and fondled your breasts.

“You been kissed by a fella before, (y/n)?”

You nodded.

“You been kissed here?” Danny asked as the pads of his thumbs tickled your nipples.

You shook your head no.

“May I?” he asked as he brought his mouth to your breast, kissing and sucking.

He alternated sides, using his fingers to roll your nipple on the breast that wasn’t in his mouth. You squealed with delight. This was heaven to you, but you felt the night air which meant the ride ended again. He made no attempt to get out, and the swan lurched forward. His hand was on your knee, but with the jolt, it slipped up between your legs.

“May I?”he asked again, and you nodded, unsure of what he wanted, but you would let him do anything.

His finger traced your panties, and he feigned shock as he said, “Well, well, Little Lady, these are all wet. We may need to take them off.”

He tugged at the elastic, and you lifted your hips to assist. He rubbed your slit. Using two fingers he put pressure on either side of your clit.

“Mmmmm,” you uttered and wiggled a little.

“Like that, huh?! May I?” he asked a third time, and his finger penetrated you.

He groaned at how wet you were and placed your hand on his crotch. He moaned as you palmed him, and his mouth claimed yours again. He started pumping his fingers rapidly, massaging your g-spot, and the ride stopped again. You whined.

He chuckled and whispered in your ear, “My place is right over there.”

You slipped your sweater over your open dress. He picked your panties up off the seat and twirled them around his finger, laughing seductively. He opened the red doors to his flat behind the fun house and kissed you as you both walked inside. He led you over to an old love seat and sat you down. Rather sit next to you, he knelt between your legs and flipped up the skirt of your dress.

“I’m guessin’ no one ever kissed you here,” he said touching your clit with one hand while removing his cap with the other and running his hand through his luxurious hair.

“Oh my gosh, no!”

He didn’t ask permission this time. He just put your legs over his shoulders. He paused to inhale your scent, then leaned forward and licked. You never knew such pleasure. You didn’t recognize the noises you were making, and the louder you were, the more intensely he ate. Just when you thought you couldn’t stand it anymore, he moved his mouth to suck on your clit and pushed two fingers into you. You squirmed in ecstasy.

“Feed me, Baby,” he said looking up at you with those eyes. He put your legs down and pulled his turtleneck over his head.

You didn’t understand and frowned. He spread your legs wide against the seat and said, “I want you to come in my mouth. Let yourself go, (y/n).”

He leaned back in and put his tongue inside you as his thumb pressed your clit, and suddenly, you understood what he meant. You started repeating his name over and over, as your fingers ran through his hair. You felt the convulsions as your juices filled his mouth. The pleasure came over you in waves, and he held your legs tightly in place. Once you stopped shaking, he sat back and looked up at you, quite pleased with himself.

“You taste delicious,” he told you, as he stood and pulled you up by your arms, placing them around his neck and kissing you so you could taste yourself.

He removed his pants And you could see the bulge of his cock pressing against his briefs and then he took them off. He told you to remove your dress. He lay down on his bed and put his hands behind his head as he leaned against the star patterned pillow wearing only his white tank undershirt. His arm muscles flexed, and his magnificent cock stood straight up in the air. Your mouth fell open at how large it was, and he grinned.

“Well Little Lady, you can use your mouth or your pussy. There is more than one way to win this ring toss.”

You decided to use both.

(Tumblr congratulated me on my 1 year anniversary, and I had not posted anything in a year. Then I read this https://www.tumblr.com/princessleprechaunnn/749224120271732736/it-is-a-crime-for-the-lack-of-danny-bailey-x and decided to try writing fan fiction. Thanks for the inspiration Princess Lepechaunn. And thank you all for reading.)

#Schmigadoon smut #Danny Bailey #you can’t tame me #aaron tveit smut

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another-clive-blog · 4 months

Note

I voted to marry the boy, could you write him being incredibly smitten with one Emmy Altava? (I would take any Clemmy really, but Clive MUST be head over heels for her)

SORRY FOR THE DELAY !! My sincerest apologies, this week has been kicking my ass-

This was hard to write, because I'm bad at shipping and also I don't know the first thing about Emmy ? She works with Layton and is gorgeous, that's it :'D I did ask some friends who told me about a camera ?? So I tried to like. Work from there

ANYWAY !! AU where Emmy works at Clive's newspaper as a part-job on top of her adventures with Layton ! She is a photographer and 20-year-old Clive is a writer. Also this is Unwound Future Canon-compliant (kinda ? It works from Clive's perspective). This is teen, comfort no hurt, fluff, and entirely written from clive's POV

Emmy fans I apologize in advance if I didn't do your girl justice, she is gorgeous and I want to get to know her

Clive remembered that fateful day- not the day it had all started, of course, but the day his whole plan had been thrown off the rails.

It was a day just like the others- or rather, it would have been, had his article not been rejected. He had been working at the newspaper for two years now, ever since he'd graduated at age 18 : two years, and not once had one of his articles been refused. All of his work had always been met with approval at worst, congratulations at best- nothing less.

But not this time. The direction hadn't said much about this outrageous event, simply something about his article needing more work, apparently. This usually wouldn't bother Clive : failure was a part of life, and he forgave those poor souls for failing to perceive the greatness of his work.

And yet- this was a problem. Clive had asked to be granted access to informations about the Incident ever since he started working here, and his request had been denied every time. He had to prove his reliability first, they said, show them that he hadn't taken the job just to get his hands on classified files. It was annoying, truly : of course he had, but proving otherwise was tiresome.

But now, with this failure... Was his progress going to fade away ? Could he still hope to get these documents soon ? Or was this the faux pas that would cost him his prize entirely ?

Clive sighed, putting that traitorous piece of paper back on his desk : he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment.

What should he do now ?

"Well, that's a sad face if I've ever seen one," a voice commented in an extremely helpful way. He didn't recognize it, mostly because he couldn't be bothered to learn his colleagues' voices or names- mostly because they kept coming to annoy him at the worst possible time. Which was all the time.

"Could you please leave me alone for once or is it really too much to ask ?" Clive knew that he didn't sound very pleasant or respectful, but that was literally the last of his problems. Besides, he had isolated his desk from the rest specifically because he didn't want others to come bother him.

"Pretty sure this is the first time we meet. At least, I don't remember seeing you before. Are you new too ?" She replied, and she really wasn't leaving, was she ? Then again, if she was new here, she probably didn't know that he wasn't here to make friends.

He opened his eyes.

The first thing to catch his gaze was the odd yellow dress, a strange outfit to wear in a place like this : she looked like an adventurer, not a journalist. There wasn't any dress code to meet in order to work here, but still...

Then again, she did have a bow tie.

"I've been here for two years," he deadpanned. She seemed nice and that was good for her, really, but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. "Welcome to the team, I suppose."

She smiled. It wasn't bright like a sun or sweet like chocolate, but it was rather something authentic, that she had worked hard to obtain and preserve. This was the kind of smile that would inspire tons of stories and articles- at least to someone really passionate about this job.

Clive wasn't. He wasn't here to change the world or make friends, he was here to get these classified files that would hopefully help him move on.

"Thank you," she said, before putting one hand on his desk and leaning forward : Clive pushed his chair back a little. "Say, since we're a team now, do you mind telling me why I've never seen you hang out with the others ?"

Oh wow. Alright, no little mind games- just straight to the point.

That really was new.

"Well," Clive muttered, looking away, "I have work to do."

She tilted her head slightly, his answer only making her more curious. "And they don't ?"

Was this some kind of test ? Clive couldn't perceive any ill intentions behind this question, but it didn't sound all that mundane either. What was she at ?

"Of course they do," he explained himself, "But this is important to me, and-" Actually- why was he even telling her that ? She probably didn't care, he didn't care, this whole discussion was useless : he had no reason to keep it going. "And my article just got refused, so I have even more work to do." He said abruptly, hoping to end the conversation.

She didn't go away. "Oh really ? That sucks. Want me to take a look ?" She offered, as if she wasn't new here.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure you can help much," Clive said coldly. He wasn't in the mood for this. "I mean, you're new, and a photographer, so this may not be your-"

"Nonsense !" She put her hands on her hips, the same smile on her face. She had listened to approximately none of his reasoning. Stubborn, Clive thought. Stubborn and very confident.

"I may not write the articles, but I know how they work," she said. "Also, I have learned a thing or two from Layton."

Clive froze. Layton. The professor Layton ? The one who had saved him as a kid, the man who was his model, his inspiration, his-

"Hey, this article is about him !" Quick as a fox, she had leaned over his desk and grabbed the piece of paper : her eyes were done scanning through the first few paragraphs before Clive could even react.

"Wh- where are your manners ?!" He yelled at her, blushing furiously. Alright, that was it-

Pushing his chair back, he quickly made his way around his desk, reaching for his sorry excuse of an article.

She dodged his poor attempt at taking back his sheet of paper with no effort whatsoever. "This is pretty good," she said, talking about the paper rather than his embarrassing fight.

Clive was a clever man- that's why he decided after yet another vain attempt that he couldn't win. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that she had to truly be an adventurer of some kind : she was surprisingly strong, agile and terribly efficient, unbothered by someone like him.

He reluctantly gave up his useless fight, taking a few steps back and crossing his arms instead. "Not good enough, apparently," he spat, glaring at her. She had no shame, no hesitation, no weakness- who even was she ?!

"Yeah, I can see why," she nodded, and Clive was once again baffled by her ability to say honest things without any hard feelings behind it.

"Your article is good, but you forgot the presentation," she explained, stepping closer to better show him : this proximity made Clive agitated, although he wasn't sure why. "You talk like everyone knows Layton, but that's just not true- especially since you're dealing with his first ever adventure. You have to keep everyone in mind, not just the readers who are as knowledgeable about this subject as you are."

Clive choked. "I-I'm not-"

"Hey, I could give you a good photo of Layton !" She interrupted him with a smile. "That way, everyone would know who we're talking about."

"Yeah, about that- do you actually know the professor ?" He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down. She didn't seem like the kind of person the professor would frequent, bow tie or no bow tie.

"Of course !" She said, before her voice took a challenging intonation, "What, wanna bet ?"

Clive scoffed. She was being ridiculous- this was probably all an elaborate plan to make fun of him. He could absolutely picture his colleagues telling her to prank him as some sort of initiation ritual, actually. She certainly was almost as annoying as they all were.

But she may know the professor. "Sure," he finally said. "If you can take this photo and bring it to me, I'll buy you a coffee tomorrow."

"Wow, hey, don't ruin yourself for me Tiger," she sarcastically said. Tiger ??

"Wha-"

"Alright, I'll come tomorrow by your sad and isolated desk to give you the picture," she decided. "I love proving I'm right, almost as much as I love drinking terrible coffees with rude co-workers."

"Are you serious-"

"See you!" She cut him off with a provocative grin, again, and left without listening to another word he had to say, again.

Clive watched her go in silence, furious. Who did she think she was ?! She had been here for what, a couple hours, and she just came up to him like that ? He hoped she had annoyed everyone else too : that way, she'd get fired sooner rather than later.

The thought did make him feel better, and he sat back in his chair, enjoying the calm of the small room where stood his isolated desk. If he focused hard enough, he could hear her laugh with others in the next room- but he couldn't, because he didn't care enough to pay attention.

So since he wasn't listening to the sound of her voice, it was silent. And enjoyable. And lonely- which was good, because he hated having to deal with others. Especially her -what was her name again ? Not that it mattered-, because she was so rude and straight-forward and confident. Really confident.

Nevermind.

He picked up the article, looking at it thoughtfully. He needed this article to be accepted, and he needed it to be his best work yet : it was the only way to prove he was worthy of the reputation he had built for himself, and, most importantly- the only way to get what he wanted, the Truth.

...Presentation, uh ?

-_-_-_-

Surely enough, the very next day, Emmy came back to his desk with a brand new picture.

Professor Layton, sitting at a table, enjoying a nice cup of tea. He was smiling serenely, and his face held a bit of warmth, of comfort, of home.

"There you go !" Emmy said with a very satisfied smile, one that Clive wasn't ready to see this early in the morning.

He took the photo she was handing him. It felt recent and authentic : in fact, he could see yesterday's newspaper on the table, next to Layton's hand. It was crazy. There was no way they actually knew each other.

"Are you a paparazzi ?" He asked before he could stop himself. He shouldn't throw accusations her way in case she really was close to the professor, but what else could it be ?

"What ? No !" Emmy didn't seem to get offended- on the contrary, she stood proudly, hands on her hips. "I'm his associate !"

Oh.

Clive fell silent, his gaze wandering back to the picture. The professor was facing whoever had taken the photography : he was fully aware someone was here, taking this very picture. Had she asked him to smile ? Or was he just that happy to help his associate win a stupid bet and make a name for herself at her new job ?

Why would someone like the professor choose her as an associate ?

"That's odd," Emmy said with feigned naivety. "I recall you being a real Layton fan, and yet you didn't recognize the one and only Emmy Altava, associate of the great professor Layton ? Surely someone as knowledgeable as you should know this. I mean, it'd be pretty humiliating if you didn't, right ?"

He looked up, staring at her, and she stared him down with a provocative smirk, waiting for his answer.

Somehow, he... he wasn't mad. He didn't feel like angrily answering or starting a fight, which was relatively rare : maybe this was due to the fact that he knew she could easily destroy him.

Or maybe this was due to the fact that he really wanted to know what Layton had seen in her, now. "I'm not a Layton fan, and I didn't know he had an associate."

Emmy's smirk disappeared quickly at his admission, replaced with something that was almost disappointment. She hummed, looking at him strangely. "...This is really not as satisfying as you had me believe it would be. I was looking forward to crushing your little ego under my boot."

Alright- forget that. Clive scoffed. "Don't forget I have to buy you a disgusting coffee now, so we're stuck together for a few more painful minutes."

"Ah- I had indeed forgotten about that part," She admitted, scratching the top of her head. All of the antagonizing and taunting was gone, just like that, Clive noticed : how did she move on so quickly ? He never ever missed an opportunity to rightfully put people in their places. But she was already over it ??

Emmy -she did say her name was Emmy, right ? Emmy Altava- shrugged, coming to a decision. "Disgusting coffee is better than no coffee. Lead the way, Tiger."

He groaned. "Stop calling me that."

"Wait," she paused, and he stared at her while waiting for whatever nonsense she was about to spit. "...What is your name ?"

...You know what- that was fair. He hadn't told her, after all. "I'm Clive Dove."

She snapped her fingers, that same confident grin on her lips. "Great. Lead the way, Clivey."

Clive groaned before leaving the room without a word. Emmy followed him with a satisfied grin, very proud and amused by his pointless anger.

Clive walked faster, trying to hide the blush that crept on his face.

-_-_-_-

They didn't interact much after the coffee : in fact, they didn't talk at all for the next few days.

Clive would see her sometimes, or hear her. He heard her a lot : she had a booming voice, full of life and passion. Whenever she talked to another one of their colleagues, Clive would hear her contagious laugh, listen to her stories from the loneliness of his small isolated desk.

She was a great storyteller. Managing her effects, adding plenty of details, adapting to her audience- it felt real. Clive could picture her stories, her adventures at the professor's side.

This was exactly what gave him a new idea, bright like always.

He came across her in the corridor, while she was heading to get herself a coffee. "Oh- Clivey ! It's been some time, hasn't it ?"

He gritted his teeth. This was a bright idea. He only had bright ideas. "Ignoring that first part. I wanted to tell you something."

She didn't seem all that excited, merely eyeing him up and down like they were in a box ring. "What- you want me to prove you wrong again ? Cuz I can do that-"

"No, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why was she always so impulsive ? "I wanted to tell you that I submitted my article again, and the direction as well as the audience were really enthusiastic this time."

She seemed to relax, smiling instead. "That's great ! I'm happy for you."

"Also I added your name to it."

She... stopped smiling. In fact, she remained uncharacteristically silent, staring at him as if she was trying to see beyond his calm expression.

It was unsettling- deeply, extremely unsettling. It felt as though she could look at him and see everything he was hiding : his dead parents, his need for answers, his plan to get these files, his... his dead parents. There was nothing else he was hiding.

And yet, he felt his face go red under her scrutinizing gaze. Stupid, embarrassing shame.

"You helped me with the photography and the structure of the article, so it's only fair," he explained in a small voice, crossing his arms. He was not going to look at her. He was not going to meet her gaze and help her find whatever she was looking for. "And that's also why I'm here. I would like to offer you to- to work on a series of articles about the professor."

Clive still refused to watch her reaction, and it took another couple of seconds for Emmy to react : but when she did, she put her hands on her hips, leaning forward with a wide grin. Clive hated when she did that, it made him feel so small compared to her. She was also closer to him, which made him feel really... uncomfortable. And hot. "You want me to work on these ? With you, I suppose ?"

"Obviously," he scoffed, shrugging nonchalantly- or so he tried.

"...Why ?" She sounded concerned- curious too. There was something in her that wasn't sure about this project, and yet there was an even bigger part of her who wanted to get more out of this, to explore all the possibilities.

Clive couldn't care less about possibilities, or colleagues, or success : there was only one success that mattered to him, and it was getting these classified informations.

Which was exactly why he wanted to work with Emmy. Her proximity with Layton and, he'll admit it, her set of skills were perfect to help him reach his own goal. "Because you know a lot about the professor, and your stories are good material. Also, you could provide with pictures and- and presentation advices, I suppose. Probably," he muttered. She was still so close- should he step back ?

No, she would probably get offended. Oh well- he just had to keep standing inches from her, then.

She seemed amused. "I thought you weren't a Layton fan. Why are you asking me to tell you about him ?"

"He's a good inspiration for articles," he said, trying to sound professional- and why was he even trying ? This was professional. It was a professional setting. "Only an idiot would let this opportunity go."

"And you're not an idiot." She thought about it for a minute, before she shrugged : "Why not ! I'm here to create articles, after all. But first I need my coffee." She stretched her back before taking a few steps away, heading for her long-awaited beverage.

Clive felt... almost disappointed to see her leaving, but the unusual joy overcame it easily. She had accepted to work with him, they were gonna be a team- which meant that he was getting closer to achieving his goal. "Wait- want me to buy you a coffee ?"

She chuckled. "Don't ruin yourself for me, Clivey."

He didn't make any comment on the name.

-_-_-_-

Getting to work with Emmy was just delightful. She was as efficient as he was, both straight-forward in their criticism, always looking for ways to improve, listening to the other's suggestions before making up their minds. They made an exceptional team with perfect cohesion and excellent results.

Of course, the direction had noticed it too. Their articles were a hit among the newspaper's audience, even bringing in new customers : everyone was curious about this duo who wrote entertaining articles about some professor. It almost felt like fiction, and people liked to read these improbable stories that stood out from the rest of the usual news coverage.

The audience wanted more, the direction wanted more, and so Emmy and Clive logically decided to make more articles : day after day, week after week, they kept creating more and more stories, to the point that they would spend most of the day together- even the sacred coffee break.

"And that's how we found out that Descole really was behind all of this," Emmy finished her story, taking her cup of coffee in one hand. "I mean, I had my suspicions- but without the professor, I never would have guessed what was truly going on."

Clive nodded, absent-mindedly scribbling a few notes. His own cup had been left completely untouched, his coffee cold by now.

This detail didn't go unnoticed. "Cold coffee won't taste better, you know," Emmy joked.

Clive stopped writing, looking at his cup in silence.

Emmy frowned. "Hey, are you okay ?"

Clive looked at her, then at his notes. They were precise and neatly written at first, like always, before suddenly going... messy. Which was weird, because Clive hated messy.

"I just thought about something," he explained.

"Oh ?" She leaned forward on the table : her curious eyes were scanning Clive's face, waiting for any piece of information. Her coffee was left forgotten- it was disgusting anyway.

Clive brought his own cup to his lips, a poor attempt at hiding the blush on his face- because he was blushing, he knew that.

After all, this was exactly the something he had been thinking about.

It had taken him weeks to realize it. But surely enough, at some point, he had stopped listening to the stories and started listening solely to the voice telling them. He had stopped seeing work as a means to an end and started to look forward to seeing her in the morning, to sharing a coffee with her day after day.

He had even stopped caring about these stupid classified files. He would never stop being curious about the truth, wanting deep down to know what truly went down- but he could also portray his life in a world where he wouldn't get to know. Maybe he could never know, and still be okay, as long as he had another source of motivation.

Emmy. His work with her- scratch that. Just Emmy. He knew it was her and not these pointless articles : even the professor, his childhood hero, seemed to pale in comparison to her, recently.

He had wondered why the professor had made her his associate : now he knew, maybe even more than Layton himself.

"I was just- just thinking," he said, before taking a sip of coffee. It was cold, and bitter, and frankly disgusting : this newspaper should be able to afford better coffees, especially with all the records in sells recently. But this disgusting coffee allowed him to share a moment with Emmy, so maybe it was a bit okay. "About stuff."

"Very specific," Emmy mocked him, "Come on, spit it out !"

Oh, there was no way he was telling her. Admitting it -partly- to himself was already a big enough challenge. "I was- well, I was wondering if the professor was okay with us writing about his life."

Emmy rose an eyebrow, settling back in her chair. It really was just a game of getting closer and away, wasn't it ? "The professor doesn't mind. He is flattered someone is that invested in his adventures. He said he'd like to meet you, one day," Emmy simply answered, looking at him funny. There it was, that scrutinizing gaze that was looking for secrets, trying to uncover everything he wasn't saying- "But really, Clivey, we've been doing that for weeks. You only wonder about that now ?"

"I guess I didn't want this to stop, in case he was bothered," he simply said.

If Emmy noticed the way he passed up the opportunity to meet Layton himself, she didn't say a thing. "Ah, right. You're not an idiot, and you're not passing up any opportunities."

"Exactly," Clive said. He wasn't blushing anymore, so he put his coffee down- it was really too disgusting, anyway.

Emmy nodded. "We have enough for our next article. We should get back to work- you know, so you keep getting opportunities." She said this with a touch of humor, and Clive chuckled at it. It wasn't even that funny, but she had a way of making him happy that only worked with her : another colleague would have him rolling his eyes and spitting a distateful comment.

"Alright- I just need to go back to my desk first," he said, standing up and gathering his stuff.

In a fraction of second, Emmy was next to him. "Go get it, Tiger," she gently punched him in the shoulder. Uh, it'd been some time since she used that one.

"And Clive ?" She added. "I'm glad we took this opportunity. Together." And with that, she winked at him.

Clive stared dumbly at her, her words taking a minute to register : when they did however, he felt his whole face heating up in a way he couldn't possibly hide.

"I- uh- I mean-" He stuttered like an idiot, unable to form any thought. What did she mean by that ? Was this a friendly remark ? Or did she- did she also-

Was she also in love with him ? Because he was in love, madly. And maybe he hoped she was too.

He didn't know what miracle happened, but she left without any comments and he remained alone, his stuff in his hands and his heartbeat racing. He must look pathetic, being so red in the face and trembling because of a single remark. He was weak, weak for her, and what was left to be done ?

Luckily -a second miracle-, he didn't see any colleagues as he rushed back to his desk : if any of them had seen him like this, a trembling blushing mess, he probably would have no choice but to kill them.

Putting his stuff on one side of the desk, he himself dropped onto his chair, palms pressed against his face. Even now, even with his eyes closed, he could still see her beautiful smile, the way she winked at him-

No. No no no- he had to stop imagining stuff. There was no way she saw him as more than a colleague -a friend, maybe, emphasis on the maybe- and he would ruin everything if he couldn't respect her feelings on the matter. He didn't- he didn't actually need to- to date her- dating her, he was thinking about dating her and it sounded so wonderful, everything he could ask for, and-

No ! No, alright ? She wasn't interested, and he respected that. And he didn't need to date her, just getting to talk to her, to see her being so vibrant and passionate and confident, a real force of nature- just that was enough. He didn't need more.

He was happy with just getting to see her.

He dropped his hands, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat was still a bit fast, but it was returning to normal : even the red on his face was gone. It was alright. He would be alright, as long as he could keep things as they were.

And if he wasn't entirely satisfied with the way things were, if he kept longing for more, then it was his problem.

He opened his eyes, only to notice a white envelope on the middle of his desk. It... hadn't been there before. Who had put this here ?

Curious if not wary, he got closer and took the sheet of paper, turning it around in his hand.

On the front, he could read "Access to classified files granted"

#And then we get Emo king Clive with 'Oh no you don't' Emmy. Toxic Yuri my friends (Alright I'm joking I'm joking dw)#Also I know the end is an angsty cliffhanger and the beginning is more comedy than shipping but. Idk I'm bad at shipping #Emmy fans I would love to know how accurate I wrote her 👀 I literally rewrote this whole thing 5 times cuz it didn't feel right #So I hope this is the right one !! Although I did wonder if she would be around canonically. Or if she would work at a newspaper #I do feel like she drinks coffee tho. And Clive is fond of beverages so we're good =)#Anyway I'm rambling a lot ??? Point is- sorry for the delay and I hope you like it !!#Now I still have to finish my Big Bang outline. It is mostly done but I'd like to add an excerpt too. So I will probably post less here #Clive dove #Emmy altava #clemmy #professor layton and the unwound future #professor layton and the lost future #My writing #Ask

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tngrace · 2 years

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Migraines pt. 2

As requested here's another chapter. It's not exactly Dad!Mav taking care of a Sick!Bradley, but I tried. Iceman just kept butting in. Maybe I'll do a different fic of Dad!Mav/Sick!B but I still hope yall enjoy this unexpected addition to this little one shot. It got out of hand and ended up kinda long, but again I'm blaming Ice for that. And since I apparently lost track of the timeline, just pretend the "text" IceMav sent in Ch. 1 and here are emails. Hope you enjoy! The inset italicized portion right under the cut is a flashback. I think it’s pretty clear, but just wanted to make sure in case.

Read on A03; Read pt. 1 on Tumblr

Once Bradley has been asleep for an hour, Ice quietly sneaks out to his office. He’d left the door cracked so he could hear Bradley if needed since his office was just down the hall, but he needed to get some work done. He sent Mav another message assuring him Bradley was fine and currently sleeping, and Mav promised he would be home in the morning. He bumped his flight up, catching a red eye that night. Ice fondly shook his head at his partner and promised they would be waiting.

Mav had been terrified the day he learned Bradley would be his, but he was the best father ever in Ice's opinion. Ice remembers it like it was yesterday.

He’d just finished a run that morning when his phone rang. He decidedly ignored it in favor of a shower, but before he could get in said shower, it started ringing again. He let out a groan before turning the water off and heading back towards the phone in his kitchen. He didn’t make it in time, and contemplated turning back for the shower, but the decision was made for him when it started ringing once more.

“Hello?”

All he could hear from the other end of the line was panting breath. “Hello?” he growled this time.

“I…. Ice?”

“Mav? That you? What’s wrong?” Ice asked, his body instantly snapping to alert at the sound of his wingman so upset. He knew Mav frequently got nightmares, but usually that meant middle of the night calls, not mid-morning calls.

“Ice,” he choked out.

“Mav, I’m here. Just breathe. Breathe with me,” he said. He intentionally altered his breathing making it slower and louder. He counted his breaths too, until he heard Mav doing the same. “Tell me where you are.”

“Base.”

Ice knew that meant his house on base. When Maverick was midpanic, he didn’t talk as much and Ice had learned to do a lot of inference during these calls. “Gimme ten minutes Mav and I’ll be there ok?”

“K.”

It was all Ice could do to hang up the phone not wanting to leave Mav alone. Ever since the Layton rescue, he and Mav had gotten so much closer. He still never acted on the feelings he’d had since day one of meeting the brunette pilot, but having Mav in his life was more than enough. The man had been through enough without Ice adding his feelings on top of it. Slider told him he was an idiot for not telling Mav, but Ice didn’t always think his RIO and best friend gave the best advice. He grabbed a shirt, slipping into it quickly as he grabbed his keys and wallet. He was out the door and across base in record time, knocking on Mav’s door.

He tried the knob when he didn’t get an answer and was relieved when it opened. “Mav,” he called out, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Uncle Ice!” Bradley screeched, launching himself from the couch into Ice’s arms.

“Baby Goose! What are you doing here?” Ice asked, easily catching the boy. His worry spiked even more knowing Mav was somewhere in the house, likely hiding from Bradley, so the boy wouldn’t see his panic attack.

“Mama had to go somewhere, and Uncle Mav is babysitting.”

“Well I bet that’s been fun. Where is Uncle Mav?”

“Went to take a shower while I watched ‘tartoons.” Even though he knew the correct word, Bradley still liked calling them “tartoons” for the smile it got from his uncles.

“Well why don’t you finish the cartoons and let me check on Uncle Mav ok? I’ll be right back,” he promises. Bradley readily agrees, and Ice puts him back on the couch to go in search of his wingman. He makes it to Mav’s bedroom and gently knocks on the bathroom door. “Mav. It’s me. Let me in?” he asks softly, not wanting to draw Bradley’s attention to them.

The door creaks open, and Ice lets out a sigh of relief. He leaves it cracked just in case Bradley needs something and he sinks to the floor pulling Mav into his arms, Mav’s back to his chest. He lays a hand over Mav’s chest and intentionally slows his breathing once more hoping to get Mav to match it. It takes a couple of minutes, but Mav does finally slow his breathing. Ice reaches up and finds a wash cloth already wet and gently runs it over Mav’s face.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

Mav gives a shaky nod. “Carole asked me to keep B today. Said she had a doctor’s appointment. But before she left, she gave me those,” he says pointing to some papers lying on the floor.

“May I?” Mav gives another shaky nod and Ice leans over and picks them up. He holds them above Mav’s head; seeing as this was the likely cause of Mav’s panic attack, he didn’t want him to have to see them again just yet. The words at the top caught his attention; “The Last Will and Testament…”

“Shit,” Ice murmurs, dropping the papers and wrapping Mav up tight.

“Yea. I… I get B. I can’t… I’m not a father Ice. I can’t do this, whatever this is she’s wanting. I can’t. It should be her, and Goose, and I just…”

“Easy, easy, Mav.” He let his hand rub steady circles into Mav’s chest trying to calm him. “We’ll figure this out.. Together ok? You’re not alone in this; you’re not alone in anything anymore ok?”

Mav gives another shaky exhale and a nod. “Together.”

“Together,” Ice promises. Once he’s sure Mav is ok, he starts the shower and takes the papers with him, promising to keep Bradley entertained until Mav is done. Mav gives his hand a squeeze, a gentle thanks, a reminder of all they don’t talk about, and then Ice is rejoining the six year old on the couch.

“Is Uncle Mav ok?” Bradley asks him quietly once he’s curled into Ice’s side.

“Yea Baby Goose. Uncle Mav is just fine.”

Bradley gives him that megawatt smile that can steal anyone’s heart, and Ice can’t help but lean down and kiss the top of his head. “And even if Uncle Mav wasn’t ok, I’d make sure to get him ok.”

“Because you’re his wingman,” Bradley grins.

“Yea that’s right.” He stays all day, playing with Bradley and Mav. They end up going down to the beach to play ball and swim. They get pizza for dinner, and by the time it’s dark, and Carole still isn’t back, Ice gives Bradley a bath while Mav tries to call her. It isn’t until a couple of hours later after Bradely is sound asleep in Maverick’s bed do they learn that Carole was in a car accident leaving her doctor’s appointment and didn’t make it. It’d taken the hospital a little while to figure out who next of kin was to contact, and Ice is extremely glad he’s still there when Mav gets the call.

Ice ends up staying the night, holding Mav all night long on the couch so they don’t wake Bradley. And the next morning, they do the hardest thing they’ve ever had to face and tell Bradley that he’s going to be living with Mav from now on. Ice handles calling their COs, and does his best to get his deployment pushed back. He helps Mav make arrangements, and he’s there for every step of it, holding him and Bradley through all the tears.

Mav’s request to return to TOPGUN is granted right away, but unfortunately Ice still has to do his six month deployment. Bradley is wrecked even though he doesn’t fully understand it, but Ice promises he’ll be back and that Bradley and Uncle Mav will be just fine. He promises weekly phone calls and letters, and he makes Viper and Jester promise to look out for Mav. He knows they’re on to him and his feelings he keeps pushing down, but if it means Mav and Bradley will be looked after, he doesn’t really give a damn if they figure him out. He has Viper to thank for getting him back stateside and at TOPGUN a week and a half into his deployment. He doesn’t know what kind of favors he pulled, he just knows he owes the man dearly.

Ice is brought out of his memories hearing a groan from Bradley’s bedroom. He’s down the hall in a flash sneaking in the door without letting too much light in. “How ya feeling Baby Goose?” he asks as he kneels beside the bed, running his fingers through Bradley’s hair. The kid is in desperate need of a cut, his curls getting out of hand, but they were waiting for Mav to get back for that.

“Sick,” he whimpers, curling towards Ice.

Ice climbs up on the bed and pulls Bradley between his legs to lay back against him. The wash cloth has lost its chill, but he still runs it over Bradley’s face. “I know kiddo. How’s the head?” he whispers.

“Not as bad,” Bradley sighs, sinking into Ice.

“The meds are working even though they’re making you nauseous. Think you could eat a cracker or two?”

Bradley gags a little, but then nods. “Ok, I’ll run grab some crackers and re-wet this cloth. Think you can get some more Gatorade down?”

Bradley scrunches his nose, but concedes as long as Sprite follows it up. Ice asks him if he wants another cold Sprite, to which Bradley assures him the lukewarm will be fine. Ice makes a face at that, which draws a quiet chuckle from Bradley.

“I swear you’re just like your dad,” he groans, before he goes out to grab the things he promised. He brings a cup of ice back with him knowing that while Bradley will drink lukewarm Sprite, the Gatorade will have to be cold. He gives Bradley a few crackers while he goes to wet the cloth and then he pours the Gatorade into the cup. He climbs back on the bed knowing Bradley is just as clingy as Mav is when sick, and Bradley lays back against him. Ice passes him the cup of Gatorade and Bradley whines, but doesn’t argue.

Once his stomach is settled a little more he drifts off to sleep laying on Ice. The rest of the afternoon passes with Bradley sleeping and Ice doing some reading while he holds their boy. That night he manages to get Bradley to eat a grilled cheese, and Bradley assures him that he’s starting to feel better. Ice insists he stay home again tomorrow, promising that Mav will want to see with his own eyes that Bradley is ok. That night Ice ends up falling asleep with Bradley and the next morning, Mav sneaks in before five am and finds Bradley asleep on Ice’s chest.

It’s precious and if the bed was bigger or if they had been in Mav and Ice’s bed, he would’ve crawled in with them. He takes his bag and drops it in their bedroom before returning and gently running his fingers through Ice’s hair. Mav isn’t surprised when Ice snaps awake, tightening his hold around Bradley.

“Hey,” he whispers, relaxing once he realizes it’s just Mav.

“Hey. Everything ok?” he whispers. His hands drift to Bradley’s hair, and a soft snort is the only acknowledgement Bradley gives.

“Yea. Gave him meds, got some Gatorade in him, and let him do a lot of sleeping. He agreed to stay home today.”

“Mmmm. Sounds perfect. Think we can move him to our bed?” Mav asks around a yawn.

Ice gives him a tender smile and soft chuckle. “I carried him up here yesterday; you can carry him to bed.”

Mav snorts as he leans down and gently pries Bradley off Ice’s chest. “Softie,” he teases, pecking Ice’s lips. Ice just rolls his eyes and gives Mav a firmer kiss before following him to their room. He kicks Mav’s bag to the side knowing he’ll end up dealing with it later. “You got all day here?” Ice murmurs helping Mav get comfy with Bradley between them.

Mav gives him a nod and a raised eyebrow, which is his silent question back to Ice. Bradley turns his face into Mav’s neck now that he’s settled once more, and he stays sound asleep. “Nope. Will need to go in since I didn’t get everything done yesterday. But you can call me if you two need anything and I can come home.”

“We’ll be fine Admiral,” Mav smirks. “Probably spend majority of the day right here.”

Ice snorts but smiles. He lays there with them for another hour, Mav drifting off pretty quickly, before he gets up and gets ready for his day. He quietly sneaks out of the house and heads to work, knowing a day with Mav is just what Bradley will need.

Bradley wakes around eight, quickly realizing he’s in his dads’ bed. Shortly after that, he realizes it’s Mav’s chest he’s curled into instead of Ice’s. “Dad,” he murmurs, gently shaking Mav awake.

“Hey Baby Goose,” Mav smiles, pulling Bradley back into his arms.

“I’m glad you’re home,” Bradley says with a smile.

“Me too kiddo. Me too.” Mav sits up and looks around noticing Ice’s absence. “Guess Pops has gone on to work. So it’s just you and me today. How are you feeling?” He brushes the hair off Bradley’s forehead as his kid moves to sit up beside him.

“Better. Head’s not hurting this morning. Stomach doesn’t feel like it’s going to crawl out my throat either.”

Mav has to hide his laugh with a cough. Dear God Ice is right. The kid is just like me. “That’s good. Want some breakfast? Pops said you didn’t eat much yesterday.”

“Yea. Was too sick.” He shrugs it off as he climbs out of bed. “He made me drink that nasty crap he thinks replenishes electrolytes.”

Mav does laugh at that as he follows Bradley out of bed. “You know he’s right though, especially with how sick he said you were.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it any better.”

Mav chuckles at the dramatics as he pulls Bradley into his arms. “Missed you kiddo.”

Bradley smiles as he breathes in the scent that is uniquely Mav. “Missed you too Dad.”

“How about a Sprite with breakfast to make up for the Gatorade?”

Bradley snickers. “Pops gave me one yesterday. I told him where they were. It was supposed to be our secret.”

Mav acts shocked for Bradley’s sake, but he knows his wingman is a pushover when it comes to them. “You must be special,” he teases, as they head down the stairs. Coffee is already in the pot, and Mav makes a note to thank Ice properly once he gets home. Bradley settles at the island while Mav whips up some eggs and bacon for breakfast sandwiches while Bradley catches him up on everything that’s happened since he’s been on the testing assignment.

After they eat, they spend the day on the couch cuddling and watching TV. Ice finds them in a pile of blankets that afternoon when he gets home. “I brought pizza,” he calls out. He chuckles as both heads pop up at the same time with identical smiles before they follow him to the kitchen. He can tell Bradley is definitely feeling better, and he’s glad he had a day at home to be assured that Mav made it home to them and all is well once more.

#top gun fics #tg fics #before tgm #icemav #icemav fic #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #bradley bradshaw #migraines #sick!fic #my writing

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