Dammit Jim.

icemav: we keep this love in a photograph

pain

#100000% worth the wait

jakes about an hour late to the latest iceman-maverick (icemav for short, as phoenix has coined) barbecue, so he’s just passing through the kitchen, not even thinking as he tosses out an easy “hey pops,” to the hosts on his way towards the doors to the backyard.

two voices call back in response. “hey kid.” “good to see you jake.”

he feels the pause. his hand hovers uncertainly over the door handle. slowly, he turns.

iceman and maverick, happily married couple, have suspended all kitchenly duties to glare at each other. “he was talking to me.”

“no, he was talking to me.”

“everyone calls me pops,” ice says, eyes narrowed. “bradley calls me pops. mickey calls me pops. even cyclone called me pops that one time that was embarrassing for all of us.”

maverick waves a hand at ice, the hand also wielding a knife he was using to chop watermelon. “yeah, but jake calls me pops. he called me pops before he knew you. that gives me pops rights.”

jakes debating just slipping out the door when they both turn towards him. in unison like good wingmen.

“jake, buddy, sport, slugger, who were you talking to?”

he offers a shrug. “uh, both of you, i guess.” it’s the truth, he wasn’t thinking too hard about it, his mind focused on getting to the backyard where he has it on good authority that his loving boyfriend is sweaty and shirtless and waiting for someone to share his lawn chair with.

ice purses his lips. “that won’t do.”

“we can’t both be pops,” maverick agrees. “that’s ridiculous.”

“right,” jake says, “that’s what’s ridiculous about this.”

“a challenge then,” ice forges on, ignoring him. “to determine who’s the better pops.”

solemn as their air boss, maverick sticks his hand out (sans knife) to shake on it. in some funhouse mirror reflection of that one photograph that seems to be everywhere, ice clasps his hand back.

and jake is somewhere between laughing, running, and bursting into tears. because no sane person has ever had this argument before and certainly not over him. nobody’s ever fought to be jake seresin’s pops before.

no one except these two ridiculous, crazy old men.

How we feeling? This a win, or a big loss. All I know is I'm in tears.

Eruri wedding WIPs

I’m not sure I will ever finish this — but I’m trying!

— You had that gun in the mansion. You could have shot the Master, there and then. — Too scared, I suppose.

Caltech’s been tracking microquakes the last few days. Thousands of them. 

                                                              That didn’t feel micro to me.

A detail I love about the (as of yet, only) on-screen Head Bonk™ is that Joe bends his head to signal for them to connect. He meets Nicky halfway but doesn’t actually do the “bonking”; he presents the top of his head to Nicky and waits for Nicky to do it. 

I don’t know why I find this so endearing except that say it gives a little more insight into their essentially Trademarked Non-Verbal Gesture of Reassurance; that it manifests itself, at least sometimes, as, ‘I present myself to you to show you I’m okay, and you bump my head with yours to tell me you’re okay too.’

Erwin Smith from queensmooting’s americanfootball!AU eruri fic “Sunday Night Lights“ check all my eruri fan art HERE ❤

We’re gonna find that place you belong, and they’re gonna take real good care of you. Plus, I can’t train you. You’re too powerful. Don’t you wanna learn more about that Jedi stuff? THE MANDALORIAN (S2, Chapter 14 - The Tragedy)

requested by anon | buck version

Best Dad in the Galaxy