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oftincturedwords · 2 years

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chapters : 1/1 fandom : top gun ( 1986 ) , top gun : maverick rating : t+ chapter warning(s) : ¡spoilers! anxiety attack , panic attack , grief / mourning , canonical character death(s) , crying , etc. characters : tom ‘iceman’ kazansky , pete ‘maverick’ mitchell , mentioned nick ‘goose’ bradshaw , mentioned carole bradshaw , mentioned bradley bradshaw , mentioned ron 'slider’ kerner , mentioned sam ‘merlin’ wells pairing(s) : gen. established iceman / maverick. background goose / carole. additional tags : hurt / comfort , angst , post canon , pre - canon , affection , trust , hugs , affection , etc. prompt : “I can’t breathe, I don’t know what to do— I can’t—“ word count : timeline : set post top gun ( 1986 ) , yet prior to top gun : maverick summary : maverick’s grief sets out to crush him , but iceman is there to as a lifebuoy as his wingman wades through it a/n : this was another prompt challenge given by my sister , she picked the prompt & the characters / pairing whilst i picked hers then we had a half hour to write all that we could thus you can thank her for this angst ! please note i have yet to actually see top gun : maverick ( i have no spare money to spend on going to the cinema sadly even though i am dying to see this film ) thus if there are any mistakes continuity - wise i apologise & please take it with a grain of salt. all i know of this film is what tumblr has shown me & what i have read of the synopsis on wiki… yet i decided to write for it … no beta thus all mistakes are mine. disclaimer : i do not own any right to top gun ( 1986 ) or top gun : maverick. neither am i associated with the production companies , nor any of the actors who portray these characters. i make no money off any of my stories , this is purely for entertainment purposes. read on : ao3 | below the cut

He finds him knelt before Goose’s grave, head bowed low with a hand placed upon the flat surface of the tombstone’s top. Even from this distance he can see the trembling that coursed through Maverick’s smaller frame, the interment hitch of his shoulders and the way the entirety of his being shuddered with the effort to muffle the relentless outpouring of emotion.

Striving to quiet the choked sobs that Iceman can visibly see catch within the other man’s chest, despite there being none else around but him to witness the overspilling of grief.

Hiccuped and stuttering breaths were all that was audible in the hushed atmosphere of the cemetery, no cries nor sobs could be heard. A grief suffered in silence until it couldn't be suppressed any longer, yet before it had overflowed, Maverick had sought out solitude and a solace he could no longer gain, in that of his late RIO and dearest friend.

The forever stinging wound of Goose’s death had been renewed by the passing of Carole, having left young Bradley Bradshaw without either parent. And even though Mav had lost another friend in Carole, Ice knew something more had happened since Mav was here rather than with Bradley. For all Maverick lived up to his callsign and was a cocky bastard, he loved Bradley and never failed to be there for the kid, and losing a parent ( no matter the age of the child ) was a hurt that stung beyond measure when they were of the good calibre that's Ice knew Carole had been.

Which was why when Mav had fled after the wake, leaving Bradley, Ice had seen that the younger man was all right as he knew Mav would appreciate then followed after his wayward wingman.

It was a credit to how well Iceman knew the other pilot that he knew Mav would head here rather than any bar or even the hangers that stored the plane he was so fond of working on. The circumstances certainly helped guide Ice, but too he knew that the bond between Mav and his former RIO was something even death hadn't broken.

Forever Mav seemed haunted by the weight of guilt and memory of his friend that he carried. Staking his career on a certain path to ensure he could be as close as he could to the widow and her child, and being present for every event he could throughout Bradley’s life. From birthdays to graduations to even school projects. And when he couldn't be there physically, he wrote letters and sent Polaroids of his time deployed.

Military approved ones, of course. Meaning there were usually ridiculous angled photos of him with Iceman or Merlin. Sometimes candids of them in the mess or all of them squashed into their small quarters. One Mav had begged Ice to take on deck with Mav silhouetted by the orange and pink hues of the setting sun with the dark outline of his plane at his side.

“C’mon, Ice, it's for Bradley.” Mav had shoved down on the paperback Ice had been reading to look him in the eye.

Ice had sighed, the glare he had aimed towards Mav’s wide, mockingly innocent - looking eyes had softened at the mention of Bradley. It wasn't as if Iceman could deny Goose’s kid a photo, his callsign and reputation notwithstanding.

“Why did you wait until now to do this?” Ice instead asked, but he set aside his book with a quick glance to memorise the page number he was on before swinging his legs off his bunk to plant them on the deck.

“Sunsets and sunrises are the best aboard.” Was the simple explanation Mav had thrown Ice’s way, shrugging nonchalantly in direct contrast to the smug grin that split his features, “Knew my wingman wouldn't let me down.”

Ice had been wholly incapable of curbing the slow smile that upturned his lips at hearing that, unable to refute nor say anything in return to those words. Healing his head, a fondness he rarely felt for others warmed within his chest as he had ducked down to don his boots so he could follow Mav out onto the flight deck.

They had been chased off by a few of the deck crew afterwards, but the photo had come out perfect according to Maverick, and he had sent it with his next letter.

Sighing through his nose and feeling the muscles along his jaw ache at how tightly he was clenching it, Ice stepped forward. Footfalls purposefully audible and stride confident, traversing the neatly up kept field of grass before the row of graves towards where his wingman was still crouched.

It worked as Ice had wanted in causing Mav’s head to snap up, looking up and searching for whomever was walking towards him. Yet it was the brokenly uttered ‘Ice’ that had his steps faltering at sheer amount of anguish infused into that single syllable. Wretched and desolate it was. Laden thickly by tears and insatiable heartache.

Only for a moment did his misstep before Ice practically ran the rest of the short distance to reach Maverick’s side, slowing only so he could crouch down beside the other. Taking in the tear tracks that near gleamed the in low light of the cemetery, the riverlets a ceaseless wash of grief, Ice reached out to rest his hand on Maverick’s shoulder. Gripping there when his wingman didn't shy away nor flinch at the contact, instead seeming to fold underneath it all the more.

Bowing his head again, Ice felt Mav’s shoulders droop despite the tension that was still laced through every fibre of the muscles beneath. Pulled taut and trembling vehemently from both the physical strain of stress and the emotional upheaval. Ice merely tightened his grip in response, shifting closer to offer a share of strength for Mav to lean against should he wish, or for when his body finally reached its limits. Whatever came first Ice would let his wingman fall.

“I can’t breathe, I don’t know what to do -I can’t—” Mav’s words faltered and stumbled over one another, intermixed with breathless huffs that were poor facsimiles of sobs he tried so valiantly to contain.

“Easy, Mav. Steady breaths.” Ice soothed, voice pitched low yet steely was his tone, not demanding but firm and grounding as he moves his other hand up to grasp at Maverick's exposed wrist whilst his other hand slide along the other's shoulder blades to lay across his upper back and lightly grip Maverick’s other shoulder, keeping up a litany as he did so, “C’mon, you know how, just focus on breathing for me right now. That’s what you can do. In… and out…”

The near hug was steady yet loose, knowing Maverick had a penchant for fleeing when overwhelmed by emotions he wished none else to witness, Ice didn't want to force him to stay and endure if moving or space would ease the hurt and trouble that painted his wingman’s soul.

Keeping an anchoring presence nearby if it was wanted, but allowing Mav to choose, Ice continued to breathe with exaggeration and guide the other man to follow suit. Slow yet consistent, Ice could feel Mav’s breathing ease by measure. Still jarred by the intermittent hitch and inevitable sob, but it wasn't the panicked gasping of before.

And it seemed Ice’s consideration of Mav wanting to be left alone had been an unneeded contengacy for the smaller man melted into his hold once his breaths were no longer staggered and harsh, seeming to deflate against Ice’s secure embrace. An epitome of exhaustion in every line along his near seamless features and angle of his frame.

Ice easily took the other's weight, shifting his arms marginally so he could wrap them solidly around Mav’s smaller frame. Not bracketing, but offering the steadfastness of his touch. Bending his head down, Ice pressed his lips lightly to the top of Maverick’s head before turning to rest his cheek there. Content to remain here until hsi wingman’s tears had run dry, or chose to move away. However long, Iceman would be there.

“She, she asked me to pull his application.” Mav’s muffled voice was welled with sorrow, near strangled by the sheer harshness of his tears yet persistent he ever was to ensure he was heard.

Although Ice hadn't needed nor asked for an explanation, he understood immediately then. What had shoved his wingman to the edge and had him seeking out an unattainable solace. If anyone would grant the best guidance through this it would have been Goose. For any commanding officer could shuffle out the application of their subordinate from gaining entry into the USNA. And Carole had asked Maverick to do it because she knew he could, or at least see it done even if he couldn't himself.

“It was her dying wish.” Mav continued, his breaths growing short again and near hiccuping they were so stuttered, “And this’ll, Ice this… he wants to be a pilot so badly and…”

“And if he finds out, it will break whatever trust is between you two.” Ice added after Mav was silent for a few moments too long, he’s simply been shaking his head beneath Ice’s cheek and swallowing as he tried to give voice to the words Iceman had found for him.

Nodding stiltedly, Mav blinked several times to clear his vision at a renewed wash of tears before brokenly agreeing, “Yeah… Selfish part of me doesn't want to lose that with him.”

Ice stared across the expanse of the empty cemetery over Mav’s head, taking in none of the darkening sky as evening began to fall towards night, a knowing expression highlighted his features, “But you're still going to do it.”

“How could I not, Ice?” Mav said in way of a confirmation to Ice’s statement, his tone desperate, “Carole asked me to. Asked to ensure, to ensure Bradley doesn't end up like...”

The words didn't need to be spoken for Ice to know what Carole had said.

Unconsciously, Ice’s arms tightened around Maverick, unable to find the needed words to comfort and knowing that voicing his thoughts on the matter would do the opposite of help. Neither would he appeal to a pragmatic view of the situation.

“I can’t just ignore it, Ice.” Maverick shifted back, seeming to gather a modicum of what Iceman was thinking, to put enough distance between them only so far as needed for his eyes to meet Ice’s, “I owe it to her, and to Goose.”

“Okay.” Was all Ice said, his tone resolute as he held Mav’s gaze. The low light had his wingman’s irises appearing dark, their usually audacious gleam was entirely absent. Instead replaced by a sorrowful resolve, determined in his plan of action and wholly prepared to accept the consequences.

“Okay?” The single word held an edge of indignation, as if Mav thought Ice was merely placating, but Ice was quick to shake his head to forestall any further words from the other pilot before he continued.

“You don't have the clearance to pull applications, Mav,” Again Ice had to shake his head when Maverick opened his mouth to proclaim some scheme or strategy to see it done, continuing once the other had clicked his mouth shut, “but I do.”

At seeing Maverick’s eyes widened a fraction, Iceman added, knowing his wingman would try to protest dragging Ice into this more than he already was, but he would hear of it, “This isn't you asking me. You’re certain this is what you want to do, then I’m the easiest way to make it happen.”

Mav stared for a long moment, features unreadable except for the tears that still brimmed along his lower eyelashes before an upturn came to a single corner of his lips, eyes alighting with a sharp warmth, “Still trying to prove you’re the best?”

A scoff fell from Iceman’s lips upon hearing that, shaking his head with a degree of fondness he only felt for the other pilot, willing to play into the levity if that's what Mav wanted, “Much as I hate to burst your bubble, Mav, but I’ve already proved that.”

“Yeah.” Mav readily agreed, “Yeah, you have.”

Those words of acceding rather than a continuation of their usual bantered argument over who the best ( the pilot portion was implied yet had as well transitioned towards other things they were good at over the years ) had caught Iceman off guard. All the more so by the conviction that teemed throughout Maverick’s tone and the unwavering focus he held Ice’s gaze with.

In lieu of a verbal response, Ice merely leant forwards to touch his forehead to Mav’s, who let himself be guided and relaxed into the gesture in turn. Eyes closing a moment, each seemed to simply bask in each other’s presence, drawing comfort and stability from one another.

Forgetting the logistics and dawning future for the time, focussing upon the closeness of the other; the gentle pressure of their heads together, the weight of their arms intertwined together, and the ghost-like wisps of each breath taken.

“Thank you.” Mav said then, low yet significant, and Ice felt his own frame relax further at the welling of warmth in his chest. Balming the effects of what he would do for the moment, just as Maverick would do it for Carole, Iceman would do it for Maverick.

“No need,” Mirroring the other’s tone, Ice opened his eyes to see Mav looking back at him as he leant away somewhat to ensure his meaning was understood, “I’ll always have your back.”

#bayze's writing #my writing #top gun #top gun ( 1986 )#top gun maverick #top gun : maverick #pete mitchell #maverick #iceman #tom kazansky #icemav #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #this has a very loose timeline in which it's based ; i was just trying to get my writing muse flowing #so i didn't think too closely on the mechanics of everything ; i apologise for that #but this did help clear up some writer's block so i call it a win

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years

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i have this headcanon that Rebel and Carole watched Mamma Mia when it first came out just for fun and then it quickly became a shared movies of theirs. After Carole got the cancer diagnosis, and especially after they realized she wasn’t going to make it, she would always cry at the scene with Slipping Through My Fingers. Because really, Rebel was her daughter and she was all too aware the time with her daughter was slipping through her fingers. And she tried not to let the tears show but she always squeezed Rebel a little tighter. (And Rebel knew, of course she did, all too aware her days with her Mom figure were rapidly declining and if she squeezed Carole as equally tight and cried a little herself, well then maybe that was just a secret that would stay between them.)

#kylie rambles #top gun maverick #same mistakes #mamma mia #yes i did fudge the timeline a little bit oh well #fight me it’s my universe

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cuz-reasons · 1 year

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What are friends and family for if not inflicting your interests upon them

#this is brought to you by the fact the last time i was on call with one of my sisters i talked about pokemon for 30mins while we played #splatoon and the time my dad brought my brother to pick me up once and he told me the entirety of the dmc storyline to me #and when when my other brother was super into pikmin and would tell us everything about the games #and how my sisters forced me to learn about riverdale agaisnt my will #and the time my dad went on about how he didnt really like the new top gun movie as much as the old one and how my mom tries to get us #to watch some of the shows she likes like star trek by putting them on during dinner #and the time my friends listened to my 90ish min presentation of the zelda timeline for my birthday last year #and every time my one friend goes on about his pirate ocs and my other friend points out invasive species and other plants during walks

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bearsinpotatosacks · 1 year

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Got a brainwave. Have 2 top gun timelines.

Obviously don't write things to fit a Timeline but group them separately. Keep my main top gun series with all my stuff including AUs and one-shots and all my ships etc on AO3. But then have one for the 'Goose and Mav met in the Academy but Mav wasn't at the Academy' timeline I've been going with so far and one for the 'Goose finished the Academy in like 1979 and met Mav either in or after flight school still giving them a good 6 years of being friends.

It means I don't have to change anything and can still write what I want without missing one idea

#going to bed now #happy with this conclusion to my top gun timeline

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libraryofloveletters · 9 months

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Find Your Way Home

Daniel Ricciardo x Engineer!Fem!Reader

Warnings: the curse that is mclaren racing, < mclaren/zak slander, the highs and lows of Danny's career, monaco 2016, horner warning lmao, a few bitter words, angst, unspoken feelings, sadness, 2022 silly season and a few swear words.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: after plotting this, i realized that The Red String Of Me And You follows a similar timeline but this one is more detailed and sooo much sexier of me so enjoy it :)

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RedBull Racing - 2014; Montreal, Canada.

Under-qualified crossed your mind every time you got into your chair on the pit wall.

You had recently graduated and you were lucky enough to snag a job with Red Bull Racing. You were told it would be a job at the factory, that you would be handling the reviews from the races from an engineering point of view.

Now you were sitting on the pit wall in Montreal, your driver in your ear. "Are we set?" His voice came through.

Your eyes scanned over the screens, pressing the button. "We're all set, Daniel."

Daniel was gunning for his first race win and you've been hoping and praying every weekend that he'd win. It was your first time as a race engineer and you were starting to think you two hadn't fully clicked yet, hence why you've yet to get a win.

He starts in P6 and his teammate Sebastian, was in P3 this weekend. There's a lot of pressure when your teammate is a 4 time world champion and you're sure Daniel felt it, especially on weekends like this.

You sat patiently, buzzing into him once more before they started the countdown. "Be safe."

"Safe is my middle name, y/n."

"Whatever you say, Joseph." The use of his actual middle name earned you a laugh. The radio falls silent; three, two, one, lights out.

It's a gruesome 70 laps, there's overtaking left and right, Daniel fights his way up to P3 and you're praying he can do what he does best. You watch as the laps count down towards the final one.

67, 68, 69, and into the final corner. The navy car crossed the line and it takes you a second to catch yourself. Christian squeezes your arm from next to you, a massive grin on his face when you register what just happened.

"YOU DID IT!!" You shouted into the radio, Daniel's laughter and hollering filled your ears and your heart with love and happiness, "we did it!" he shouts, correcting you.

Everyone's running, you're following the mechanics to under the podium, all of you squished up against the fence like sardines as the navy team awaited their two drivers.

Daniel had won, followed by Nico in P2 for Mercedes and Sebastian in P3 for RedBull.

Seb runs over to his half of the garage, there's a sea of navy and everyone is mixed up together but when Daniel gets out of his car, he's looking for one person and one person only. He spots you, a big smile on your face and even though he knows you'd never admit it, there are tears in your eyes.

The driver jumps straight into your arms, putting all of his weight on you and the fence. A few of the mechanics squeeze into the hug, holding Daniel so he doesn't crush you.

Your hands cup his face, well what would be his face under the helmet. His visor is lifted, brown eyes meet yours; the crinkles by his eyes signalling to the massive smile under the helmet.

"We fucking did it!" His shout comes out muffled.

You smile, nodding. Daniel is standing again, still holding onto you. He leans into you, arms wrapped around you with his face buried in your shoulder. You kiss the side of his helmet, hand reaching down to rub the top of his back. You internally gag at the dampness that meets your hand but that was the least of your concerns.

Daniel just won his first race.

Proud was an understatement.

RedBull Racing - 2016; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

He could taste the victory.

The win was reaching out to him, the finish line on the tips of his fingers and he could feel it slipping away from him.

"Pit now," you called to him, Daniel was confused by your sudden decision. "Tyres are good, y/n."

"Team decision, please pull into the pit lane."

Daniel groans letting you know he'll be there in a few seconds.

You saw when he pulled into the pits, watching as the mechanics scrabbled to get the tyres ready in time. They had Daniel sitting there, his position falling with each wasted second.

"What the fuck!" His radio was still on, you weren't even sure what you could tell him in that moment to make him feel better. He pulls out with a sense of speed you'd never seen before. He finds himself racing to beat Lewis coming out of the pit lane but the Mercedes turns into the corner before he gets the chance too, overtaking him.

"Why did we pit?" He asks you, you pretend not to hear him as you look over at Christian. The older man gives you a look, urging you to answer the driver.

Daniel calls your name once again, his voice making you want to cry; all of the horrible emotions mixed in with the guilt of the horrible pit stop made you sick.

You finally answer; "team decision."

He scoffs, it's like you can feel the tension over the radio, see the way his hands tighten around the steering wheel as he goes into the tunnel. "Bullshit, y/n."

"I'm sorry Dan-" "Stop, nothing you could say will make this better."

And with that, the radio fell silent. The nauseous feeling builds with each passing second, your leg shaking and your eyes staying fixed to the screen until Daniel crosses the finish line in P2.

It was better than nothing but you knew he could have won the race, you knew he would blame the team, blame the crew, blame you for this loss.

Christian squeezes your shoulder as he gets up, a smile on his face - his quiet way of telling you good job. He knows how difficult drivers can be, especially when things like this happen. The race engineers are the first to take the blame, you called him into the pit so you'd take the brunt of the anger.

You nod, hearing Daniel's voice over the radio, "place?"

"P2. Well done, Daniel."

"Okay."

Daniel stood next to Lewis, Checo on the other side of the Mercedes driver. It was quiet as you watched Daniel shake the champagne bottle, spraying over his fellow drivers. He had a smile on his face but you knew he wasn't happy. You knew him like the back of your hand and once again, the nauseous feeling creeped up the back of your throat, the feeling strangling the life out of you with each passing second. You had to go, you couldn't stand there and watch him like that, knowing you were the one he was blaming.

And that he did; not in so many words but the bitterness in his voice and way he spoke was enough to tell you he did not want to be there.

The interview replayed in the debrief that afternoon, the press officers wanting to go over something he had said.

"It hurts, this one hurts a lot. More than any other."

His words hurt you.

You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, let alone be in the same room as him. There was a sense of despair, you couldn't shake it.

It wasn't until you were about to leave that you found yourself turning back, walking in the direction of his driver's room. You stopped outside the door; D. Ricciardo, 3 - with an Australian flag beside it. As you were about to knock, Michael opens the door, a bit shocked to see you.

"Is he in there?" You asked quietly and he nodded, stepping aside to let you in. Michael shuts the door on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Daniel's yet to turn around or yet to realize you were there. "I'm sorry," you speak, your quiet voice startling him. "I'm not sure what went wrong."

"Everything did."

"It wasn't my decision."

"You're my engineer; when I'm out there, it's me and you. It was your decision, y/n. Only yours."

"I'm sorry, Daniel. I really am."

"Nothing you can say will fix it, and I know you're sorry but right now, I don't want your sorry."

You nod, taking a step back. "Then what can I say? Or do?"

"You can leave," his arms fold over his chest. "Because if you stay, I might say some things I can't take back. I know we aren't cool right now but I don't want to hurt you, y/n."

"You already have," you give him a tight lipped smile, the sadness clear across your face. "Goodnight Daniel."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Monte Carlo, Monaco.

It was off to a good start, Daniel had managed to give it his all and snag pole position on Saturday. He was in a good mood, there's a smile on his face and the sun was shining down on Monaco which was a nice change from the rain that was setting up in the morning.

The cars on the grid, the drivers counting down the seconds to lights out. You buzz into him, waiting to hear the little click. Daniel's breathing comes through from his side.

“50% done, remember?” You tell him.

“50% done.” He says, the radio goes quiet as he waits for lights out.

Daniel drove amazingly, despite the issues the car was giving him. He finds himself aggravated half way through the race, the car giving out on him and losing power; thus losing hope in himself. The win was slipping through his fingers all over again with each passing corner and turn.

The weight was lifted off his shoulders when you watched him cross the finish line as the winner.

"P1 baby!!!!" You shout into the radio, Daniel's hollering fills the line and a big smile on both of your faces. "We fucking did it!!" He laughed, driving his cool down lap.

You were by the fence, watching as he climbed onto the halo of his car. Daniel's hand in a fist, placed on his chest as the team cheered. You're sure you've got the goofiest grin on your face, squished between Christian and Adrian.

Much like he did after his first race win, he makes a beeline straight for you, his arms open as he jumps into yours. Once again, you find yourself struggling to hold the man up but you try your best, arms wrapped around him.

Daniel's squished against you, your hands on his helmet, holding where his jaw would be. "Got that other 50%."

"Redemption day baby!" He shouts, giving you one last squeeze.

The rest of the afternoon was like heaven on earth; the smell of champagne, RedBull and chlorine covered everyone, you all watched as Daniel dived into the pool of the energy station.

"Come on!" He shouts to you but you shake your head, "I'm not getting in there."

Daniel pulls himself out of the pool, running over to you. "Dan, no." Your finger stuck out to warn him, the man comes closer. "Stop it," you get up, about to run away. He grabs you before you get the chance to run away, his arms wrapped tightly around you before he jumps into the pool.

"Daniel!" You scream when you get back up to the surface, "oh my god!" You laughed, your hand passed over your face to wipe away the water. He laughs, swimming - more like blobbing his way over to you, his race suit was weighing him down.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to him. The team photographer takes a photo of the two of you; arms wrapped around each other, covered in disgusting pool water with the world's biggest million watt smiles on your face.

You smile at the man next to you, "I'm so proud of you."

"I'm proud of you," he smiles, hugging you once more. "I couldn't have done it without you."

RedBull Racing - 2018; Abu Dhabi.

The announcement over the summer break threw everyone for a loop.

Breaking News: Daniel Ricciardo set to join Renault Racing for the 2019 season.

You weren't sure how to handle it or what prompted it.

Well that's not entirely true; after Monaco, things went downhill fast. There was bad result after bad result and it was weighing heavily on him.

When he returned from the summer break, you didn't say anything to him about the departure from the team. You knew he must have thought about it, you don't just up and leave a team just like that. It was a hard decision for him to make.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel worse.

It was his last day, the race was over and Daniel had made his rounds to say goodbye to everyone. You had been busy when he made his way around the garage and hospitality but you felt like a general goodbye wasn't enough for the man who you have spent almost every day with for the last 4 years of your life.

You knocked on the door of his driver's room, Michael smiles when he opens the door. "Come in, y/n."

Daniel turns when he hears your name. "I uh, I forgot something in the garage, I'll be back." Micheal says, announcing that he's leaving so you'd get a moment of privacy.

The two of you were quiet, looking at each other for a moment before you spoke.

You break the silence. “So this is it?”

“Yeah.” He nods, shifting from one foot to the other. You hum, lips pressed together as you look around. You'd never seen the room so empty. “Do you really have to go ?”

Daniel smiles, “afraid so, bags are packed.”

“You could always unpack.”

He smiled, his heart aching at the sight of you. You reached out, your hand placed on his warm cheek. “But you’ll come back, right?”

A sad smile on his face, bringing his own hand up to rest on yours. “In another life, maybe.”

“You promise?” You stuck your pinky out towards him.

He nods, interlocking his pinky with yours like you were children. “I promise.”

Renault Racing - 2020; Imola, Italy.

The rain poured down, the night sky as dark as it could possibly get as you pulled your hood over your head; the race hadn't gone as well as you'd like but you were no longer needed for the night, on your way back to your hotel for some sleep and then home before you head off to Turkey.

You could barely see where you were going let alone hear anything over the rain. The sudden shelter over you caused you to look up; an umbrella, a black and yellow one to be precise.

The man next to you smiles when you turn to see who was next to you. "Hello stranger," he grinned, the big smile on his face.

"Hello Daniel," you smiled.

The two of you hadn't spoken much since he left RedBull, it was a hi and a hello here and there in passing but you've yet to have a proper conversation. Frankly, you aren't sure what to say without it being awkward.

"Need a ride?" He asks, his arm over your shoulder to pull you away from the rain. "If it's not too much trouble." You pull the hood off of your head, flattening a few fly aways.

Daniel leads you towards the parking lot, holding the umbrella over your head until you get into the car. The man backed out of the parking spot, the sound of the rain on the windshield filled the silence, you translated the road signs in your head as he passed them by.

"You looked good up there today," you say quietly, Daniel glanced at you when he came to a stop. "You were always suited for the podium."

"Top step though," he smiles and you nod in agreement. "I'm sorry.. about the race. Sucks for Max and Alex."

You shrugged; A DNF for Max and P15 for Alex, so all in all, a shit weekend. "That's racing, what can you do?"

"The good and the bad." He pulls off when the light turns green. "You know how it is," you smiled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your index finger.

"Daniel, can I ask you something?"

"Oh full name, you've got me shakin' in my boots, y/n; but yes you can."

You shift in the leather seat, smooth and expensive and suddenly you're aware of how wet your hoodie is. The question you wanted to ask slips away momentarily as you think of how much this must be damaging the seat.

"Y/n," he calls out to you, glancing over to make sure you were alright after you had gone quiet. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Why are you running, Daniel ?"

The question catches him off guard, the car comes to a stop as he pulls into the parking lot of your hotel. His jaw hung open a bit as if he was unsure how to answer you; which he was. You watched as he blinked, trying to gather the thoughts in his head into a cohesive sentence.

"I'm not."

You can't help but chuckle; those who are running never seem to realize that they are, in fact, running.

"You are. You have a habit of doing that, Daniel."

You reach over, your hand rests atop of his; Daniel's skin is warm in comparison to yours that's still ice cold from the rain. His free hand moves, his index finger tracing up and down your hands, from your knuckles down to your wrist; another habit of his. He would distract himself during boring debriefs, his fingers pinching at yours under the table.

He's quiet, still unsure how to answer the statement that he knows in his heart was true. His fingers wandering over your hand, the raised skin by your thumb felt out a pattern identical to his; a rose in the same spot only slightly smaller in size.

Daniel had talked you into it. Another habit of his, getting you to do things you'd never do otherwise.

You were scared, you thought it would hurt but somehow he managed to talk you into it. There you were in his hotel room, Daniel's hand in your free one as you two got matching tattoos.

It felt like a million years ago - so much has changed since then.

You speak again, breaking the silence. "I hope you find what you're looking for at McLaren. You deserve some peace, Dan. You and I both know it."

McLaren Racing - 2021; Monza, Italy.

Back where he belongs.

A hell of a drive, something only Daniel could have pulled off after the horrendous start that was McLaren. You knew it was the car, not him; if anyone asked you, the car was always at fault. Daniel was one of the most talented drivers you had ever come across and had the pleasure of working with. You'd tell anyone who asked, anyone who'd listen to you.

It was a lacklustre weekend for the team; Checo was in P5 and Max had a DNF after an accident with Lewis, which caused both drivers to lose out on points that were needed for the championship.

Despite RedBull not having a driver on the podium, you and a few of the mechanics that used to work on Daniel's side of the garage went to watch the podium to cheer him on.

You watched as he and Lando did a shoey, your face twisting into disgust much like the younger McLaren driver. Valtteri watched in a bit of confusion and disgust, shaking his head as he took a swing of champagne from the bottle like a normal person.

The champagne bottle in one hand and the other on the railing as he climbed up. Daniel shouts, a big grin on his face as he lifts the bottle above his head. Everyone cheers for him, clapping and shouting for the winner. You were needed back in the garage for a meeting so you couldn't stick around long but you made sure to text Daniel.

To Daniel Ricciardo: Congrats winner! Back on the top step.

You got caught up in the meetings, back to back that felt never ending. Eventually you have a chance to check your phone but when you feel your pocket, it's not there.

You must have put it down somewhere. You find yourself retracing your steps, asking each person you saw as you passed by.

"Y/n!" GP calls for you, getting your attention. "Looking for this?" He holds up a phone with a navy blue case, your initials inscribed in gold on the bottom.

You let out a breath, "how'd you know?"

He hands the phone over to you, shrugging. "You know I always know." You roll your eyes at your co-worker's theatrics and thank him for your phone before walking off. You see you've missed a few messages so you scroll through. One in particular catches your eye.

From Daniel Ricciardo: Thanks boss lady! Congrats to you too, you helped make me the man I am today.

The message pulled on your heart strings; it was true. You and Daniel were so young when you got paired up together. You learnt a lot about life and yourselves, how to be a good person and what you wanted from life, and most importantly, how to get it.

You grew up together and Daniel would always hold a special place in your heart.

McLaren Racing - 2022; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

You couldn't believe it.

After everything he's done for the team, he'd hurt him like that. What could you expect from a team when their CEO was a walking snake?

It was a chain reaction.

Sebastian had thrown everyone for a loop in Hungary, announcing that he would be retiring at the end of the 2022 season. That left Aston looking for a replacement that came from Fernando. There was an opening at Alpine now which they just assumed they'd fill with their reserve driver, Oscar.

Safe to say Oscar wasn't a fan of that plan, actually he wasn't even aware of that plan.

While all of this was going on, Daniel had publicly committed to McLaren for the next season and McLaren was giving away his seat to different drivers behind his back, including none other than Alpine's reserve driver, Oscar.

Eventually it did come out that Daniel would be leaving McLaren at the end of the 2022 season to no fault of his own.

Returning from the summer break, everyone is left to face the music; particularly Daniel.

His music shuts off when he pulls the key from the ignition. You had forgotten your pass in the car, walking all the way back to the parking lot to get it.

"Morning, y/n!" Daniel grins, stepping out of the car.

You smiled at him, knowing you can't show the anger you were feeling to that wretched team he has to work with for the rest of the season. "Morning, Danny. How are you?"

He laughs.

The question feels so stupid, he feels so stupid. Obviously there's the obvious, he's angry, upset, sad, mad; at who was the question. There's so many thoughts in his head, he isn't sure how to answer your question.

"Daniel, c'mon. Seriously. "

"I'll be okay, y/n. Life works in weird ways."

A huff slips past your lips, arms folded across your chest much like a disapproving mother. "Life working in weird ways is finding something you thought you lost years ago, not you getting sold out of your seat without your knowledge."

He gives you a sad smile, nodding in agreement. "I know."

You can't help but reach out, a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be okay."

"I always am, aren't I?"

Red Bull Racing - 2022; Abu Dhabi.

Headphones covered your ears, legs folded under you as you went over the last set of race footage.

You hadn't heard the door open, your eyes glued to the screen only looking away to scribbling something down on the page next to your laptop.

You barely get a second to look back before someone's hands over your eyes, startling you. Instinctively, you brought your own hands up, grabbing the person. The raised skin along the wrist and the arms was enough to signal who it was but the smell of his cologne filled the room. You let go of his arms, pulling the headphones off your ears.

Daniel smiles, his hands on your shoulders before you stand up and turn to face him. “Miss me, miss me, now you gotta-“

“Gotta what, Dan?”

“Kiss me,” he says, his signature cheeky grin on his face. You can’t help but smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smooth the wrinkles on his navy blue shirt, admiring him in the colours that meant home to him, to you.

Your hands held his face, “you came back.”

“Pinky promises are sacred.”

“That they are.”

Scuderia AlphaTauri - 2023; Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium.

He's back on the grid, his focus was on racing.

Daniel's excited to be back, it felt good to be back. Racing wasn't a burden anymore. Yuki was happy to have him, his new teammate welcoming him with a smile and a hug as did the rest of the Alpha Tauri team before he made his way to his driver's room.

The door was unlocked, left ajar slightly. Daniel just assumed the team was doing a last check, making sure things were in order.

He wasn't expecting a person to be in there. He found a woman, her back turned to him as she scribbled down something on the board.

He knows that handwriting from anywhere. The words let's fucking go written in all caps in bright blue.

"Hello," he calls, you turn with the marker still in hand. "Hello," you smiled.

Daniel can't help but laugh, "what are you doing here? Come to welcome me back ?"

"Something like that."

At that moment, Daniel noticed you weren't wearing your usual navy blue uniform. Today was different; a different logo, a different cut.

"What are you wearing? Why are you wearing that?" He points to the Alpha Tauri logo on your shirt.

Your brows furrow, a bit confused by his reaction. You thought he'd be happy to see you. "Do you not need a race engineer or.. you're just gonna wing it? Maybe you could borrow Michael to do it?"

"Don't be a smart ass," he rolled his eyes, dropping his bags as he walked over to you. "Thank you," he whispers, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

You pat his back, trying to wiggle away from him. "No need to thank me, we have a lot of work to do."

"I've barely been here for 5 minutes and you're already hassling me."

"Someone's gotta do it," you smiled, leaving him there to settle in.

It wasn't until it was time for practice that you saw the man again, you're across from him on the pit wall, looking over the stats before you hear the radio buzz.

“We all set?” He asks.

You look over the screens. “All set. Be safe.”

“Safe is my middle name, Y/n.” The words remind you of the path you walked along many many years ago.

You smiled, waving to him as he pulled out of the garage. “Whatever you say, Joseph.”

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indynerdgirl · 2 years

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In the never ending mess that is the Top Gun: Maverick timeline, I caught something this time around that I never noticed before (shocking since this was my 11th viewing, anyways).

Maverick tells Cyclone that he was a Top Gun instructor "almost 30 years ago". Assuming he became an instructor in the same year he graduated Top Gun, that would be 1986 (you can see the year in the class photo they have Hangman looking at).

So "almost 30 years ago" obviously means not exactly 30 years ago, so let's assume it was only 29 years ago. Add 29 years to 1986 and you get 2015. Okay, so it sounds like the events of the movie take place in 2015.

BUT if you line up the days/dates from the calendar we see in Mav's hanger in the opening, that calendar is from 2019 (also, there is a note about 'dinner with Joe' on that calendar. who is Joe? new character unlocked?). So according to the calendar the events of the movie take place in 2019.

Obviously the screenwriters and the props department did not anticipate crazy fans (like myself) to get super obsessed and dig into the details like this. My best guess is that the discrepancy comes from a combination of the screenwriters thought that line sounded good because the 80s were 30yrs ago and then props was like "we need a calendar, this is fine, we're not gonna show the year any ways" (though they shouldn't have picked a month with such an easily identified holiday as Halloween).

So for the fic writers out there, if you go by the 2015 year, that means Bradley was 31 during all of this (assuming you adhere to the canon birth year of 1984. he'd be 33 if you stick with the fanon of 1982 based on how old the kids who played him in the original were). While he'd be 35 (or 37) if you went by the 2019 year.

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #what is a timeline anyways?#movies jist need to give us crazy fans a fact sheet #that's all we want #my post

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thatsrightice · 9 months

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I’ve been doing a LOT of digging on what path the Top Gun pilots would have taken prior to the events of the movie, specifically Iceman of course, but I found some information regarding the squadrons that Iceman and Maverick would have been apart of directly prior to TOPGUN.

In a preliminary script for “Top Gun”, Maverick speaks to Iceman saying, “You were in 124 with Bargamian.” In Maverick’s line, 124 refers to the VF-124 Gunfighters, a fleet replacement squadron (FRS). Iceman would have been assigned to the F-14 Tomcat and VF-124 in the selection after flight school, and Bargamian is likely a reference to the last name of a pilot Maverick had likely known well. The squadron was located in NAS Miramar, California, and in 1972 the squadron became responsible for training pilots and RIOs in the F-14A Tomcat in the Pacific. These training fleet replacement squadrons would fly out to aircraft carriers to fly day and night carrier qualifications.

In the movie, however, Iceman wears a patch for VFA-25 Fist of the Fleet. This means that he was likely reassigned to VFA-25 for deployment. What is interesting about this is that the squadron never flew the F-14 Tomcat, rather, they only flew configurations of the F/A-18 Hornet. VFA-25 was based out of NAS Lemoore, CA, and was in Carrier Air Wing CVW-14 at the time of the movie. They deployed on the USS Constellation from February 1985 to August 1985, and from September 1986 to October 1986. Their next deployment wouldn’t depart until April of 1987.

In the movie’s opening scene, Maverick and Cougar use the flight callsign ‘Ghostrider,’ the callsign for a real F-14 squadron (VF-142). In the early 1980s, VF-142 was deployed several times on the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower as a part of Carrier Air Wing CVW-7 flying F-14s. They deployed from April 1980 to December 1980, from January 1982 to July 1982, from April 1983 to December 1983, from May 1984 to May 1985, and from July 1985 to September 1985. Then they had an extended turnaround while the ship returned to the shipyard for an extensive overhaul and did not deploy again until 1987 with the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower.

However, you may notice that Maverick’s patch is NOT for VF-142. The patch has VF-1 written, referring to the F-14 Tomcat fighter squadron known as the Wolfpack. The Wolfpack deployed on the USS Ranger from January 1982 to February 1982 and from April 1982 to October 1982. Then they deployed on the USS Kitty Hawk from January 1984 to August 1984 before returning to the USS Ranger from May 1986 to July 1986. They deployed again on the USS Ranger from August 1986 to October 1986 and from March 1987 to April 1987.

But this does not match the logo for the squadron, rather, the patch’s logo depicts a bird in flight. Aircraft from the NAS Miramar-based squadron VF-51 Screaming Eagles and VF-111 Sundowners were repainted in fictitious markings for the film. One could presume that the logo is meant to be a nod to the VF-51 Screaming Eagles. The Screaming Eagles flew off the USS Kitty Hawk in 1981 but transferred to the east coast following an accident that killed a deckhand from the squadron and injured an aircraft’s crew when an A-7E Corsair II from VA-22 struck one of VF-51s aircraft. They flew off of the new USS Carl Vinson from March 1983 to October 1983 as the ship traveled to its homeport in California. VF-51 is the first F-14 squadron to intercept several Soviet aircraft including an armed MiG-23. The squadron cruised with the USS Carl Vinson from 1986 to 1987.

Obviously, we know that Top Gun was filmed on the USS Enterprise, so this is another inaccuracy regarding his squadron. The USS Enterprise sailed with CVW-11 many times in the early 1980s. They deployed from September 1982 to April 1983, May 1984 to December 1984, from January 1986 to August 1986, from January 1988 to July 1988, and from September 1989 to March 1990. CVW-11 consisted of VFA-14 Tophatters, VFA-41 Black Aces, VFA-86 Sidewinders, and VFA-97 Warhawks.

Basically, none of it will paint you a clear and accurate picture. Obviously, I didn’t expect it to be accurate in terms of dates or aircraft carriers lining up and overall accuracy, but the patches and bars on their uniforms would have been nice. I’ve been trying to put together a timeline for Iceman’s career prior to TOPGUN but it’s a little hard when they don’t flesh out a character with a complete and fool proof backstory. I mean, Val Kilmer had to come up with his own headcanon in order to play his character with at least a little bit of depth.

EDIT: you can find a lot of information on different Naval squadrons using the website seaforces.org, they’ll give you info regarding their deployments and what carriers they were on and what planes they flew. Also, Wikipedia is legitimately a great starting place in terms of research :)

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