#is there..........a picture of pete and his wife

[backseatloversz]

february 27, 2009

[realnielsbohr]

currently formulating an au of an au of my ocs you can't even FATHOM the level im on right now

[coffee-fueled-cookie]

What do you think the club would be like if you were to marry them

Now, this is probably where I get delusional bc I have to like stretch to make this both appealing for those seeking romance, but realistic enough for the comic truthers. But at the end of the day, if you don't like House wife Josh? Wrap it up

That being said

Josh Levy

"Coffee, stop using Padme and Anakin pictures! They don't even relate to his head canons!" I DON'T CARE, I DO WHAT I WANT 🗣

Now listen

You may think Josh wouldn't be the best husband, that he's as bad as Bill, and maybe... maybe he is, but in my heart

He is the ultimate husband

Josh getting married was a healthy step forward for him. You basically saved him from his fate because now he has something to live for and look towards

Does that mean that he's kind of dependant on you? Yes, and sometimes that's hard in your marriage, but usually, things go pretty smooth

Does cook dinner, tries to develop at least a consistent and normal diet, but I'd believe it's hard. Stress eats when he's upset, you'll find wrappers of things hidden in the trash, old habits die hard

After that fire and his mom dying, things between him and his dad had been really rough, and there was a moment after college where they didn't talk to each other

They probably won't ultimately heal that relationship, but trust that when you both start to get serious, he does actually take the time to introduce you to his Dad

This guy is so deep in his fandom culture that the only cheating you've gotta worry about is his Ao3 tabs and his collected stuff, and even then, he probably sold repeats or unnecessary stuff to actually pay for y'alls wedding

It was a very moving moment for you two (He cried but you're pretty sure part of it was out of pain)

Like in the epilouge, he's probably just Facebook friends with Jerry and Pete, but he doesn't go out with them, they don't hang, he's blocked Bill on EVERYTHING

You're his safe space

Bill Dickey

DIVORCE

The fact this guy actually got married... he bagged a baddie?? Free yourself!

Okay, maybe I'm dramatic, but Epilouge Bill had me ripping my hair out, like how could you POSSIBLY be married to THAT!?

I don't even know what to tell you, this will be the most stretched one

Okay, okay, house wife, but like, doesn't do SHIT house wife

Doesn't know how to cook, will clean but like... complain that he's tired when you get home from work

Does use the money from his ebay gigs to pay for the TV subscriptions tho, so at least there's that

You would think he's miserable folding y'alls undies and sweeping and feeding the cat but honestly this is probably the most chilled out he's been in years

Now all you gotta do is peg him and he'll really evolve

Like I'm serious, the whole shebang, this will help and heal him, I swear it

Will he fight the whole way through? Of course, but you can tell by that light in his eyes and that tightness in his throat that he doesn't mind

He'll probably be vulgar mouthed, call you names, call other people names, but when I tell you that shit holds no malice, he just has high blood pressure

It's a dynamic, that's for sure, and you'll probably still have to deal with his collecting, but as years go by, down the line, he'll consider selling a chunk of it or storing it away

Jerry Stokes

The actual chill guy omg

Biggest thing you gotta worry about is stepping on a miniature he left out or trying to declutter his desk where he'll play his cards or customize shit

A crafty husband

Has paints, card stock, scalpels, all sorts of shit

Magic the gathering cards OUT. THE. ASS. And usually it ain't a problem, bc they're in binders and take up minimal space

But he for sure does magic the gathering youtube videos, and the house must be silent when he does em, so that can be a lil aggravating

You guys have your friend group, not seperate, y'all do everything together, and when you guys aren't, then expect to hear "Where's Jerry?"

I wish I had more to add, you guys get take out every Friday, do breakfast on Saturdays, you guys have a show y'all watch together and get excited when new episodes drop

It's just a very dorky and lovey marriage, there's not much to it

Pete Dinunzio

Y'all probably had a shot gun wedding, very sporadic, super fun, and you woke up with the worst headache imaginable

As for if Y'all knew eachother before then?? That's up to you and your lore

It's super casual, you guys considered yourselves married after sleeping in the same bed for 2 years

You know that couple that looks cool, and do cool shit, and you kinda wish you were spontaneous like them?

But then it turns out they're kinda dysfunctional? Yeah. That's it

If you're fine with him working at Sick MOFO then awesome, that makes life 10x easier

If not... yikes

He lives independently despite having a partner, and sometimes that's great, but when he comes home late as shit without having said anything and you're waiting, crying on the couch and worried, but it turns out he was just hanging with Butchie

That gets old quick

He does try sometimes to touch base and be open, he knows his job can be... problematic for some relationships

So a lot of times he'll make up for it by taking you out, setting time aside strictly for you (this pissed his side bitch Butchie off so bad)

Physical to the max, lays on you full body and sleeps like that, nuzzling on you, blowing raspberries in your neck, he can't keep his hands off

"We're married ain't we? Then I can love on you whenever I want!"

Not necessarily Pete but whatever

[uhhlifeig]

Smitten - Feb. 17th - word count: 827 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus woke up, his head throbbing.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Lupin,” a woman said, hovering over him. “How are you feeling?”

“Where am I?” Remus asked, trying to sit up in his bed. The lady pushed him back down. 

She must be a nurse, he realized, since she was in a nurse’s uniform.

“You’re in St. Mungo’s. Do you remember?”

Remus frowned. “Remember what?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Mr. Lupin?” she asked, pulling a notebook out of her pocket. 

Remus racked his brains. “Uh, not much,” he shrugged.

“And what does it feel like?”

He frowned, thinking of a way to phrase the sentence. “It feels like I’m supposed to remember something, but I don’t. Like there’s just… empty space and colors.”

“Interesting,” the nurse hummed. “Well, you must've been hit with something, since you still have practical memory, yes?”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed. “Yeah. I can do stuff, I just don’t remember how I learnt it.”

“And do you recognize faces?” she asked.

“Dunno,” Remus replied dully. “Are there any faces?”

“Oh, sorry. One second, Mr. Lupin.” The nurse left the room, letting the door click shut behind her.

A moment later, she returned, a gorgeous man in tow. 

“Er, hello,” he mumbled, feeling his face heat up under the steel-colored scrutiny of the mystery man. 

The man turned to the nurse. “Are you absolutely quite sure he’s alright, Beatrice? Has the confusion worn off?”

“Yes, Black,” the nurse said. “He’s just missing memories, that’s all.”

‘Black’ opened his mouth to speak, but the nurse cut him off. “No, Sirius,” she sighed. “It’s not permanent. It’ll be back soon.”

Sirius. What an interesting name, Remus thought. He’d heard that somewhere before…

“Good,” Sirius nodded, checking his watch. He cursed. “I have to go, the Curse-Breaking people need me. Sorry, I’ll be back.”

Remus frowned. He wanted to talk to the pretty man. He had such nice hair. Remus wanted to run his hands through the man’s hair. Would it feel nice?

Remus shook the thoughts out of his head. That man was probably off the market, considering the silver band on his finger.

~~~~~

There was a messy-haired man next to his bed, chattering on about his wife and son. 

He showed Remus the pictures from his son’s fifth birthday, and he also reminded Remus of a place called ‘Hogwarts’.

Remus didn’t remember too much, but he did recall a big, moving tree, and three animal-shaped figures trailing after him. When he told the messy-haired man (James, his name was), he grinned.

“You remember that? That’s great, Moony!” he exclaimed. “Do you remember the names? Of the animals, I mean.”

“It was…” Remus trailed off, thinking. “Prongs, Wormtail, and Padfoot, right? And I was Moony?”

“Yeah!” James cheered. “I was Prongs, of course, since, well,” he leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m a deer.”

“Yeah, and… there was a kid called Peter, right? Which was he?”

James chuckled. “Oh, Pete’s Wormtail. He’s a rat.”

Remus tilted his head ponderingly. “So who was Padfoot?”

“Oh, easy. That was Sirius,” James said, smiling.

Remus gaped. “Wait. Sirius? Sirius as in the man who came earlier? That Sirius?”

“Well, he didn’t tell me he’d stop by, but yeah,” James shrugged. “Why?” 

“Merlin, that man is so beautiful,” Remus sighed. “He just has the prettiest eyes, and his hair, and-”

“I’m going to have to stop you right there,” James frowned.

Remus’s eyes widened, head dropping to look at his sheets. “Oh, shit, right. He’s married, or engaged, or something. Sorry, I just-”

But James interrupted again. “No, no, shut it, Moony. I heard way too much of this from Sirius’s side during fourth year, and let me tell you-” he gave a full-body shudder. “I never want to go through you two pining again.”

Remus raised his head hopefully. “We were together?”

“Uh, yeah? Merlin, Remus, did you not see the wedding band on your finger?” James scoffed. “Smartest Marauder my ass.”

Remus elected to ignore the last comment and instead looked at his right hand, where a gold band was wrapped around his ring finger.

“Oh, shit, he’s my husband?” Remus asked, voice rising in pitch with every word.

“Duh.”

~~~~~

Remus sighed contentedly as Sirius curled into his side on their couch. 

“So,” Sirius began. “Prongs told me what happened.”

Remus felt a cold trickle of embarrassment down his back. “What?” he asked cautiously.

“When you were in Mungo’s that time, remember?” Sirius looked innocently up at Remus. “When you forgot that we were married?”

Remus groaned. “Shut it. He did not-”

“Oh, but he did,” Sirius said. “He called it cute how you were acting all smitten about your husband. And then he said that if one of us ever lost our memories again, he wouldn’t be there.”

“Oh, yeah. What did you even say to that poor man in fourth year?”

Sirius grinned. “Well, I’m pretty sure I started off with how good you looked, and then-”

“Dear Merlin.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Nikki McCann Ramírez, Naomi LaChance, Asawin Suebsaeng, Andrew Perez, and Stephen Rodrick at Rolling Stone:

WASHINGTON — On Saturday, President Donald Trump held a hideously expensive military parade in Washington, D.C., on his birthday. Trump and his top officials stood on a stage at the National Mall behind two tanks, before two large digital American flags. Military bands and troops, some on horses, some in vehicles, some in tanks, others in Howitzers, marched in the streets. So did a few robot dogs. An army parachute team jumped down. Helicopters flew over. Drones flew by. There were many, many tanks. The spectacle was billed as honoring the U.S. Army’s 250th birthday — and planners put in admirable effort to sell this fiction, with processions designed to honor key times in American military history. In reality, the event was just one part of the Trump administration’s vast, billion-dollar government effort to make the leader feel good about himself. 

The weekend’s pageantry, which some administration officials referred to as “Donald Trump’s birthday parade” behind closed doors, fulfilled the president’s longtime desire for a grand military parade. Starting at the Pentagon in Virginia, the troops in the parade — who honored the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and the Global War on Terror — had to walk for about two-and-a-half miles.  Trump sat next to his wife Melania and the former Fox News host, Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth. At points, Trump stood alone in front onstage, such as when he saluted troops marching as the 1st Cavalry Division. At another point, Secretary of State Marco Rubio was pictured yawning on C-SPAN. The military officials shown on C-SPAN spoke with reverence about the War on Terror.  Late in the event, Trump stood at a podium onstage and swore in 250 new or reenlisting troops. “Welcome to the United States Army and have a great life,” Trump said after they recited the Oath of Enlistment. “Thank you very much. Have a great life.”  After two hours, the event reached its logical conclusion: political speeches. J.D. Vance briefly went first. “June 14 is of course the birthday of the Army,” Vance said. “It is, of course, the birthday of the president of the United States. And Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” He delivered the laugh line of the night. “It’s also my wedding anniversary,” he said before immediately leaving the stage.

[...] Even before the speech component, the C-SPAN feed gave off a vibe that alternated between military recruitment video and softcore Trump propaganda. Video played several times of Trump giving speeches. Occasionally, a small banner popped up that said: “Video courtesy of America 250.” The nonprofit America 250, which is helping organize the ongoing publicly-funded campaign celebrating the country’s semiquincentennial, has been taken over by Trump allies and one of his campaign operatives. [...] The military parade was overseen by the American commander-in-chief as he conducts a militarized crackdown on immigrants in Los Angeles, California, driving protests. He sent in National Guard troops and Marines not because their presence is necessary to keep the peace, but as a show of force — and as a test run for operations in other states and cities, should the president feel angry enough to launch them, likely illegally. At 2,000 locations across the country, protesters held a “No Kings” Day to voice their anger toward the president. About 20,000 people gathered in downtown Los Angeles, undeterred by law enforcement’s use of non-lethal weapons on earlier protests and the president’s escalation by sending in troops.  [...] For an event that shut down much of central Washington D.C., closed key roads, and reportedly cost up to $45 million, the promise of a display of America’s military might — that just coincidentally happened to fall on Trump’s birthday — didn’t exactly draw out legions of his fans. Instead, the crowd of supporters, servicemembers, curious locals, and military-adjacent spectators who braved the oppressive heat and humidity of a post-thunderstorm D.C. managed to just fill out their allotted side of the street over several blocks in front of the White House, with plenty of room to spare. 

Donald Trump got an unhappy birthday present yesterday: his dictatorial wet dream of a military parade that costed taxpayers bunch of money had far fewer people in attendance than anticipated that got way outdwarfed by No Kings protests across the nation.

[godisawomananditsme]

HI PRETTY PEOPLE<3

I’M MARY BUT YOU KNEW THAT;)

✨ 17

✨ she/they, but idrc

✨ gryffindor (best parties obv)

✨ bi(sexual/lingual/polar)

✨ prefect (ironic huh)

✨ best baker EVER (ok, except for pete)

✨ professional doodler

✨ golden jewelry girlie

LOVE: dancing & karaoke, red lipstick, ciggs, siris’ leather jacket, moony>>

HATE: bigotry, the blacks, skipping songs halfway through⚠︎

some annoying ppl (not u moony):

☕ Lils (hurt her, and I will end you.💅🏾): @bunchesoflillies

🎸 Marls (partner in crime🥷): @cccherry-red

📖 Remu (loml😘): @the-moon-is-out-to-get-me

🐕 Pads (loud, reckless idiot❤️): @sob-dogstar

🦌 Prongsie (istg i’ll hex him☀️): @here-and-a-deer

🐀 Pete (best music taste🎶 sorry not sorry): @mentally-losing-it

🐍 Baby Black (a great, big fcking tragedy🥨): @silentlydrowning

🗡️ Dorcas (Marls’ wife🖤): @d0rcasm3adows

🧝🏽‍♀️ Pandora (lowkey terrified, lowkey in love🪬🪸🪼🦋🧚🏽‍♀️): @just-a-girl-with-a-crow

🃏 Barty (prolly a mistake, but not judging🚬): @the1nonlybartycrouch

⛓️ Evan (a dark critter, but tbh respect🩻): @anxiietyandautopsies

🔮 Sybil (weird but lovely vibes🦀): @i-s33-not-speak

[thebearer]

Can we get something with Carmy his wife and his girls trick or treating?

yes!! omg this is so cute.

i feel like their neighborhood really goes all in for halloween (much to carmen's slight dismay, because he has to decorate. "we're not going to be the only house without decorations, carm!" "we have decorations. look, we got pumpkins.")

but it's also the perfect place to trick-or-treat. pete and sugar always bring their kids and they all go trick-or-treating together.

picturing that willow is maybe four, teddy's seven. teddy is a trick-or-treating pro, she loves it. loves halloween, really- carmen tells you she gets that from you. she's had her costume picked out for weeks, and is soooo excited to go bounding up door to door to get candy.

willow on the other hand, is not as much.

she likes the decor, she liked picking out her costume, and she likes candy, but... she's not a big fan of the trick-or-treating aspect. usually hiding behind your or carmen's leg, eyes wide and blinking in fear, too scared to speak to the stranger at the door with the candy.

and that's how carmen ends up living his worst nightmare, which is going door to door with willow, having to also speak to strangers.

"trick or treat!" teddy chirps, grinning widely, a charming smile that she inherited straight from mikey- a pure berzatto trait.

"oh, look at you. aren't you just precious." the elderly woman coos, grinning back at teddy, dropping pieces of candy in her bag.

"what do you say, hm?" carmen mutters, running a hand over teddy's head.

"thank you." teddy sing-songs, turning and running back to you, babbling about the candy she got.

the woman turns to willow, still half hidden behind carmen's leg. "oh, and who's back here, hm?"

willow only clings to his leg tighter, barely peeking around to look. "aw, is someone a little shy?"

carmen fights back a cringe. "yeah, she, uh, she's still gettin' the hang of it." he tries to coax willow out. "c'mon wills, what do you say? can you say trick-or-treat?"

"twick-or-tweat." willow says quickly, before burying her face in carmen's side.

the woman takes mercy, passing carmen a gentle smile and two pieces of candy for her bag.

willow runs back to you, the candy wrapped tight in her fist, her scared expression now traded in for excitement. "i got two mama!"

"what? no fair." teddy huffs. "i only got one. why did she get two?"

"go up to the next house and get another piece. we'll call it even." carmen nods towards the other house, lips curling in a smile at how teddy grins, darting off down the sidewalk.

willow is too excited to notice, situated on your hip, babbling with excitement about how she got the candy. "i-i said twick-or-tweat and she gave it to me." willow was in awe, looking at the candy in her hand.

your heart swelled at her little lisp, peppering her cold cheeks in kisses. "that's amazing, sweet girl. you did so good." you cooed, voice lilting high and sweet. "do you want to go to another house?"

willow hesitated, looking at the houses then back at you and carmen. "d-do i have to go alone?"

"no, baby." you said before carmen could, shaking your head. "daddy or i will go with you, i promise. we'll help you got all the candy, won't we?" you grinned at carmen, who nodded, his hand settling on the small of your back.

[unbuttonedown]

Fault Lines / Chapter 4

Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson x Wife!reader (Mitchell!reader)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Consensual, legal age-gap relationship; Estranged Father/Daughter relationship (Maverick & Reader); Named Simpson!OC child; Angst; Pregnancy; No Beta Reader

Synopsis: After the successful Dagger Squad mission, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell returns home — only to be blindsided by the revelation that his estranged daughter is married to Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson. Maverick is forced to confront the years he lost and the family he never knew existed. Tensions rise between the two men as Maverick struggles to find his place in a life that has moved on without him, leaving the question — can broken bonds ever truly be repaired?

previous chapter / next chapter

Maverick sat in the dim light of his garage, a beer in one hand, the other idly tracing the edge of an old photo sitting on his workbench. It was a polaroid from years ago — faded and worn from the times he’d grabbed it, stared at it, and wondered if he’d ever get the chance to make things right. 

Then his phone lit up on the table. 

He glanced at it, expecting a message from Penny or maybe Bradley. But when he saw your name on the screen — your name — his breath caught it his throat. His fingers hovered over the phone, heart pounding. 

He’d missed your call. 

For a moment, he just stared, almost afraid to believe it was real. Then, with a steadying breath, he tapped the screen and called you back. 

The line barely rang twice before you answered. 

There was silence at first. Neither of you spoke, the weight of the moment stretching between you. 

Then, finally, you exhaled. “Hi.” 

Maverick swallowed. “Hey, kid.” His voice was quieter than he expected, rough with something he didn’t want to name just yet. 

“I, uh…” You hesitated, and he could picture you twirling the rings on your fingers, the way you always did when you were anxious. “I wasn’t sure you’d call back.” 

Maverick let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t sure you’d call at all.” 

You huffed a quiet, almost nervous laugh. “Yeah, well. Here we are.” 

Another beat of silence. Then Maverick straightened slightly. “I meant what I told Beau.”

“I know.” 

He could hear the hesitation in your voice, the careful way you were navigating this. He didn’t blame you. 

“You said we should talk,” he said, careful not to push. “When and where?” 

You let out a breath, thinking. “Tomorrow. Somewhere neutral.” 

He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. “Tell me where, and I’ll be there.” 

You were quiet for a second before answering. “There’s a little cafe near the park on base. Morning, before it gets busy?” 

“Yeah. That works.” 

More silence. Neither of you seemed to know how to end the call. 

Finally, you spoke, your voice softer now. “Okay. See you then.” 

The call ended, and he set the phone down, exhaling slowly. 

For the first time in years, he had a real chance. And he wasn’t going to waste it. 

You stared at your phone long after the call ended, your fingers still curled around it like you weren’t quite ready to let go. The house was quiet now — Beau had gone to check on Stella one last time, giving you a moment to yourself. But even in the silence, your thoughts were loud. 

It was happening. 

You were going to see him. 

You pressed a hand to your belly, grounding yourself. You weren’t the same person he walked away from all those years ago. You had built a life, a family. You weren’t that heartbroken girl waiting for him to come back anymore. 

Beau stepped into the room, his gaze immediately landing on you. He must’ve seen something in your expression because he crossed the space between you without a word, sinking down beside you on the bed. His hand found your knee, warm and steady. 

“How do you feel?” He asked quietly. 

You let out a slow breath. “Like I just jumped out of a plane without a parachute.” 

A soft chuckle left him, and he squeezed your knee. “That’s one way to put it.” 

You glanced at him. “I don’t know what tomorrow is going to be like.” 

He studied you, then brushed his fingers along your hand before lacing them together. “You don’t have to.” 

You swallowed, turning your palm against his and gripping it. “I just don’t want to walk into this expecting something he can’t give me.” 

Beau’s thumb brushed over your skin. “Then don’t.” He shifted slightly, his voice even but firm. “Go in with your eyes open. Listen to what he has to say. And if you decide it’s not enough? You walk away, and I’ll be right beside you.” 

Your throat tightened, emotion creeping up on you. “You’re too good to me.” 

He smirked. “Don’t let that get around. I have a reputation to uphold.” 

That pulled a soft laugh from you, and the weight in your chest lightened just a little. 

You rested your head on his shoulder, letting yourself take in the quiet comfort of him. No matter what happened, no matter what Maverick had to say, one thing was certain — you weren’t alone in this. 

You arrived at the cafe a few minutes early, more out of nerves than anything else. The place was quiet this time of morning, just a handful of people scattered around, sipping coffee and reading newspapers. The hum of conversation and the faint clatter of dishes made the space feel normal — comforting, even. You weren’t sure what you expected to feel when you saw Maverick again, but “normal” definitely wasn’t it. 

You ordered a hot tea, something to keep your hands busy, and chose a table near the window. The cool morning light streamed in, casting long shadows across the floor. You tapped your fingers against the side of your mug, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. 

And then, the bell over the door jingled. 

You looked up just in time to see Maverick step inside. He spotted you immediately, hesitating just for a second before making his way over. He slid into the booth, ordering himself a coffee when the waitress passed by. Then, silence settled between you. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy — years of things left unsaid weighing down on the moment. 

It had been years since you’d sat across from him like this, and yet, in this moment, he felt both familiar and like a stranger all at once. His hair was a little grayer at the temples, a few more lines on his face, but otherwise, he was the same Maverick you remembered. 

He gave you a small, cautious smile. “Hey.” 

You swallowed, gripping your cup a little tighter. “Hey.” 

You wrapped your hands around your mug, the warmth grounding you. “So,” you said, offering a small, tentative smile. “I guess we’re doing this.” 

Maverick huffed a quiet laugh, shifting slightly in his seat. “Yeah. Looks like it.” 

And just like that, the ice was broken — just a little. 

Silence lingered for a beat before you cleared your throat. “Well, I guess we start with small talk, right? Ease into things?” 

He nodded. “Probably a good idea.” 

You took a sip of your tea, thinking. “Alright. Let’s see… I graduated college, obviously. Moved around a little — nothing too exciting. Did some work in communications, eventually ended up working PR for the Navy.” You smirked slightly. “I know, of all the places to land, right?” 

Maverick raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You sighed, shifting slightly. “That’s how I met Beau, actually.” 

That got his attention. “Yeah?” 

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you thought back. “It was at an event. Some big reception thing. I was running around making sure everything was in place, and he was — well, you know how he is.” 

Maverick smirked. “Stiff? Intimidating?” 

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And I was not about to let some high-ranking admiral boss me around at my own event, so I may have mouthed off to him.” 

Maverick let out an actual laugh at that. “That sounds about right.” 

You grinned. “Yeah, well. Turns out, he liked that I didn’t back down. One thing led to another, and a few years later, there we were — getting married in an intimate ceremony.” 

Maverick watched you, something unreadable in his expression. “He makes you happy.” 

You met his gaze, the weight of his words settling over you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “He does.” 

Maverick nodded, and for a moment, silence stretched between you again — not awkward, just there. 

But you weren’t ready to let the conversation get too heavy just yet, so you pushed forward. “Then, a couple years after we got married, along came Stella.” You shook your head, a fond smile on your lips. “She’s four going on forty, I swear. Smart as a hell, way too perceptive for her own good. She can tell when Beau’s about to leave for work before he even says anything. Just looks at him and goes, ‘It’s okay, Daddy, I know you have to go do important stuff.’” 

Maverick chuckled. “She sounds like a handful.” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” you laughed. “She’s got Beau wrapped around her little finger, though. And she knows it.” 

Maverick shook his head, still smiling. “And the baby?” 

Your hand instinctively drifted to your belly. “Another girl. Coming soon.” 

Something flickered across his face — something almost wistful. “You’ve got a good life.” 

You studied him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. I do.” 

He exhaled, sitting back slightly. “I’m glad.” 

You let that sit between you for a moment before shifting gears. “What about you? What have you been up to for the last ten years?” 

Maverick huffed a quiet laugh. “Oh, you know. Flying. Getting grounded. Pissing off admirals. The usual.” 

You smirked. “Sounds about right.” 

He shook his head. “I won’t lie, I spent a lot of time just… moving. Always onto the next thing, next posting. Never really putting down roots anywhere.” He glanced at you. “That’s why I stayed away for so long. I told myself I was giving you space. That I was doing the right thing.” 

Your fingers tightened around your mug. “And now?” 

He hesitated, then met your gaze. “Now I realize I should’ve let you decide what was right for you. And I’m sorry I didn’t.” 

You nodded slowly, taking that in. Then finally, you sighed. “Look, Maverick… This isn’t easy for me. It’s not just me anymore — it’s my husband, my kids. I have to think about what this means for them too.” 

“I know,” he said quietly. 

“We’re going to do this on my terms. My pace. No pushing, no forcing anything.” You exhaled. “I’m not saying I can just let everything go overnight. But I am open to giving you a chance to prove yourself.” 

Maverick nodded, something almost cautious in his expression. “That’s all I can ask for.” 

You studied him for a long moment before offering a small, tentative smile. 

“Well, in that case… I guess we’ll see where this goes.” 

[lovelytsunoda]

tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world) // tom “iceman” kazansky

summary: after thirty years of marriage, heather kazansky reflects on the time she spent and the love she shared with tom as she prepares to write her eulogy and say goodbye to her husband.

pairing: tom kazansky x wife!oc (named heather)

warnings: canon character death (Tom) and mentions of gooses death from the original movie, depictions of grief, mentions of mental health and medication,

authors note: this is the fic I firmly believe I was put on this earth to write. I wanted to do so much more with it, but honestly would have ended up with like 16k words or something like that.

April 2022, Miramar, California.

“is that the admirals wife?”

“jake, shut the fuck up.”

heather kazasnky had never thought of herself as an impressive woman. she always found herself timid, shy and a little anxious. it wasn’t until the first offshoots of gray started to sprout in her hair, and she’d watched all three of her children grow up that she truly thought sh had done something impressive with her life.

she sat alone at a table in the corner of the hard deck, oblivious to the wandering eyes of her husbands trainees as her slender fingers navigated the keyboard of her MacBook.

“heather?”

she started at the voice, cheeks marred with the flush of someone who had just been sobbing as she turned to look at the speaker.

“peter,” she hummed. “it’s good to see you, maverick.”

heather got to her feet, pulling the other pilot in for a tight hug. “nice to see you too, heather. how are you doing.”

“the best I can. the kids are supposed to be coming up tonight to help with the funerals.”

there were always going to be two funerals. the first was the formal military funeral, where her husband would be buried in the same cemetery as nick bradshaw, and the other was more like a reception, something more human and less structured. for the people who knew him not as admiral kazansky, but as tom.

“I miss him, mav. the house feels strange without him in it. I’ve spent so long being heather kazansky, I don’t know how to go back to being just heather.”

maverick shook his head, taking a seat next to her. “you’re still you, heather. you’re still a mother to three incredible kids, and grandmother to two.”

“with another on the way.” she coughed, somehow managing a smile. “joshua’s new girlfriend is expecting. he told tom before he died.”

“congratulations, heather. how are the kids doing?”

“as well as can be expected. as usual, mitchell is the glue holding us together. cassie’s a wreck. she always was her father’s daughter. and for it to happen so soon after she had jamie just seems cruel. tom was going to retire, did you know that? he was ready to put his papers in, we were going to go to greece. it was finally us time again. he gave so much of himself to this country, and I was so excited to finally have him back.”

pete rested a hand on heathers shoulder, squeezing it through the fur of her cardigan. she was strong despite her age, still well built and sturdy, face marred with laugh lines but not a single telltale old woman wrinkle. “I’m so sorry, heather.”

“thank you.”

she turned back to her laptop, showing the other pilot what she was doing. “I’m gathering pictures for the reception. but most of them are of me. tom always had his fucking camera with him. I should have let the kids do this part. all I’m doing is making myself cry.”

she cast her eyes back to her laptop screen, resisting the urge to reach out and run her finger over the photo, soaking in the good memories as they came flooding back. in the picture, she and tom stood on one side of the kitchen counter, laughing with each other as they cut gingerbread cookies.

it had been their first christmas together.

“oh my god,” maverick laughed. “is that iceman in a cable knit?”

“he was so nervous about meeting my dad for the first time. I had to talk him out of wearing his dress whites.”

December 1985, Richmond, Virginia.

they had been together for six months, give or take the few weeks his team had spent deployed in the gulf, and nothing had intimidated tom kazansky more than meeting his girlfriends father. he had wanted to wear his navy dress whites in an attempt to make a good impression before heather had laughed and made him change into jeans and a sweater before they left the apartment.

even then, he had changed sweaters four times before setting on the white cable knit he was currently wearing.

iceman knew how stressed his girl got during the holidays. her family could bring out the worst in her, and they were both highly strung when they walked in the door.

now, she was off to the side with her sister, cradling a mug of hot coco in her hands as she watched him with a smile, chuckling as he dropped a cup of flour down the front of his jeans.

“you really like him, don’t you?”

heather looked back at her sister, who raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her hot chocolate.

“I do. I really do, abigail. he makes me feel like I’m worth loving, if that makes sense. everything with tom is just so…easy.”

abigail frowned. “he’s a lieutenant, isn’t he? that means he’s going to be deployed a lot. are you sure you can handle that?”

heather sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “we’re trying. he was out in the gulf for a few weeks in september, and we got through it.”

“he’s barely taken his eyes off you since you got here. and when he looks at you, I don’t see anything other than pure, unfiltered love. I bet he’s got a polaroid of you in his cockpit.”

heather laughed, a warm and giddy feeling in her chest. it was clear how much her family loved iceman, and how quickly they were welcoming him into the fold.

“you know I’m losing him for two months in the new year. he’s off to california, got into some fancy fighter jet training program.”

“you can still go see him, right?”

“yeah, I’ve got a few vacation days saved u- oh fuck.” heather cursed, thrusting her mug into abigail’s arms as she saw what her boyfriend was doing. “give me one second, I’ve gotta stop him from screwing up the gingerbread.”

she pushed up the sleeves of her jacquard sweater, socks skidding across the kitchen tiles as she loosely knotted her hair behind her head.

“kaz, sweetie, give me the rolling pin. you’ve gotta knead the dough.” she smiles softly, putting herself between the pilot and the counter.

one of tom’s flour coated hands came to rest as her waist, his chin on the top of her head as she watched her dip her hands into the bowl of flour, and proceed to knead the gingerbread dough by hand. her lovers hands came to rest over hers, his lips soft and warm against her skin as they kneaded the gingerbread dough together.

“see, you don’t always know everything, lieutenant.” she hummed giddily, running her thumb over his wrist.

“yeah, but I know I love you, and that’s all I need.” Tom laughed, gently using his finger to guide her head towards his and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

April 2022, Miramar, California.

heather paused, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "i loved that man so much, pete."

the hard deck was getting busier, off-duty pilots and seamen flooding in from the base at miramar as shifts changed for the day. heather knew all about the dagger squad and the hazy series of events that brought pete mitchell back to the academy, often having to speak for her husband in meetings once his first cancer operation had left him unable to speak for himself.

"auntie heather!" a familiar face looked over from the pool table. bradley bradshaw was a spitting image of his father, right down to the way that his moustache was trimmed.

for heather, it sometimes felt like seeing a ghost.

"brad!" she perked up, waving him over to the table. "how are you?"

when she first came to visit her husband at miramar, somethign about carole bradshaw had pulled heather in. she hadn't known the bradshaw's long, but by the time that goose's accident happened, she felt like she had known that family her whole life.

she did what she could to help carole out afterwards, especially when it came to raising bradley, but as rooster got older and time flew by, it was so easy for carole and heather to fall out of touch.

"you look just like your dad." she hummed, hugging the pilot. "it's like seeing nick again."

bradley nodded solemnly. "i was sorry to hear about admiral kazansky."

"thank you. it had been a long time coming, but there's no way to properly prepare to lose the man you love."

rooster gestures to the group behind him, the mismatched group of people coming to meet him at the table. “aunt heather, I’d like you to meet the dagger squad: jake, natasha, robert, reuben and javy. we knew the admiral well.”

“hi.” heather said weakly, introducing herself. “I’m heather, the admirals wife. or, widow, I guess. I’m still not used to saying that.”

“are you getting ready for the funeral?” jake asked, promptly getting jabbed in the rib cage by natasha.

“what hangman means to say is: we all respected your husband very much, and we would be honoured to help you plan his memorial service.” phoenix corrected, taking heathers hand between both of her own.

“thank you for the offer, natasha.” heather smiled. “bradley, I want to show you something.”

she sat back in front of her laptop, using the touchscreen to pull up a video taken the first summer she came to visit miramar. she had timed the visit to coincide with her birthday, a small selfish part of her unable to fathom spending her birthday without tom.

bradley pulled up a chair next to the table, watching as the screen crackled to life, the date stamp in the corner reading june of 1986. they were inside the o bar, the video opening with heather resting her head on tom’s shoulder, then panning over to the massive birthday cake and sparklers set in front of her. carole bradshaw sat on one side of her, and charlie blackwood was at the head of the table, sitting next to maverick.

“is that my mom?” Bradley smiled fondly. “she looks so full of life.”

“she was.” heather laughed. “and you might remember charlie, she was one of mavericks many lovers.”

“hey!” pete scoffed. “things just didn’t work out.”

“she was always too good for you, pete.” heather laughed, pointing to another space on the screen. the group was singing happy birthday, supported by a rockabilly piano backing track. “bradley, there’s your dad.”

goose was sitting in front of the grand piano, a toothpick hanging between his teeth as he hammered away at the ivory keys, aviator glasses over his eyes.

“happy birthday dear heather, happy birthday to you.”

the camera panned back to heather and tom as she blew out the cake candles. tom pulled her in to a soft kiss while the rest of the table cheered, and then the video cut to black.

“mitchell has been digitizing all of this stuff for us. I caught tom watching our wedding videos before he died.”

“remember when slider and wolfman got absolutely shitfaced at your wedding and tripped down the reception stairs?” maverick laughed to himself “did anybody ever get that on video?”

heather shook her head, a bright smile on her tear stained face as she hunted through the original wedding folder. “I’ve got you one better.”

September 1987, Monterrey, California.

mrs. heather kazansky. she could get used to that.

she was sitting with her sister and tom’s parents, the former two who were conversing with each other in polish. she twirled her wedding band on her finger, face flushed and spirits high as she looked on at her husband.

tom was with maverick and slider, the group of aviators dressed in their best white uniforms, beer bottles lifted high as they drunkenly hollered the words to an old rod stewart song.

“and I know your name is rita, because your perfume smells sweeter.”

abigail was filming, zooming the camera lens in on heather as she asked: “are you sure you don’t wanna back out now? till death do you part, you’re bound to this dumbass now.”

heather laughed, playfully smacking at the camera. “yes, I’m sure!”

“stay with me, come on stay with me!”

sliders voice was three decibels louder than everybody else, and he was also significantly drunker. one of the bridesmaids had her eyes on him, and there wasn’t a doubt in anybody’s mind that ron kerner would have somebody in his bed that night.

iceman’s face was flushed, his arm thrown around maverick as they rocked on their feet, skin sweaty and hair mussed.

but in the midst of all this chaos, he still managed to look over at his new wife, blowing her the softest kiss. she smiled, catching the kiss in her hands and pressing it to her heart, a moment her sister was able to capture frame for frame on digital video.

tom had watched the video hundreds of times as he sat alone in his office, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he’d be leaving not just the love of his life, but his three beautiful children as well.

April 2022. Miramar, California.

“that’s the kind of love that people only dream about.” natasha smiled softly. “you’re lucky you got to spend as much time with him as you did. most couples don’t make it as long as you guys did.”

heather smiled shakily, reaching for her drink. she’d left the sprite so long that the ice had half melted, condensation dripping down the glass.

“he was so good with the kids, you know. I was on and off depressed for a while after joshua was born. my mental health had never been perfect and I was on a low dose anti-anxiety medication for a long time. but after Josh was born, everything just got so much harder and I could barley get out of bed in the mornings. tom would take the kids to school, make their lunches. he was teaching full time at top gun by then, so he took a few days off to stay with me, make me feel like myself again.”

“he was a good man.” robert smiled, rubbing her shoulder.

“yeah, he was.” heather bit her bottom lip, pulling a photo up on her laptop that had the dagger squad letting out a chorus of ‘awe’s’

the picture was taken in 1989. tom was dressed in a gray waffle knit shirt, a pair of pit viper sunglasses on his forehead as he held a smiling baby in his arms. mitchell’s wide eyes looked up at his dad, his tiny fingers wrapped around in of tom’s larger ones.

his name was mitchell ronald kazansky, because tom had made a lame bet with maverick and slider (that he lost) and had to name his firstborn after both of them (because he was a fucking idiot at times, but she loved him anyways).

the boys were both easy children, but cassandra? she was a daddy’s girl through and through, and tom would have moved heaven and earth for his little girl. whatever cassie wanted, she often got, well into adulthood even. she was the spitting image of her father, from her honey blonde hair right down to the birthmark on the underside of her jaw.

when tom walked her down the aisle at her wedding three years ago, he cried all the way to the altar. but not half as much as he sobbed when he held his granddaughter for the first time, cancer-stricken and barely able to speak, but still brimming with joy as he held jamie to his chest.

“he lead a good life. one he was proud of. he used his last words to tell me as much.” heather choked out, overwhelmed by emotions. “I just wish we’d had more time.”

pete placed his hand over hers, squeezing it reassuringly as natasha rubbed her back, and rooster gently squeezed her shoulder.

there was still so much love that heather kazansky still had to give.

still so much love that she was surrounded by.

and maybe that was tom’s way, even from the grave, to tell her that everything would still be alright.

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @oconso @thatsdemko @lorarri

[caystar13star]

Pic from this post

Every time Pete hears someone refer to her as Penny Benjamin it makes him angry all over again. Her name was Penelope Mitchell, and she was his baby sister.

He remembers how happy his mother was as she danced around the house, getting larger every day it seemed like.

“You’ll have to watch out for the new baby, Petey. You’re their big brother. You can tell them everything they need to know about the world.”

She bled out two days after Penny was born. Two weeks after the men came to tell them his dad was gone.

Pete tried to stay with Penny during the service, his wide green eyes following the movements of everyone as they paid their respects. He didn’t understand the things they whispered as they turned away—traitor, turncoat, damn Mitchell.

Two people stood out to him. The first was a lady named Sandra. She was from somewhere that started with a C, but he didn’t remember the rest. She had asked him several times about their family, if they had grandparents or aunts and uncles. Petey bobbed his head up and down and told her about his Uncle Snake that flew with his daddy.

She got a sad look and asked if there was anyone else. A neighbor, a friend at school maybe? He assured her that he would be just fine, and he could take care of Penny. He had been fixing her bottles since she was born, as their mother was too weak.

Penny had a big appetite.

There was another man there. He looked familiar, and Petey was sure he had met the man at some point. He was taller than Pete’s daddy, bigger muscles too. He had a frown on his face as he stared at the Mitchell siblings, sitting quietly on a chair.

Sandra introduced the man as Lieutenant Benjamin. He had flown with Duke, and Mike, and he had earned a trip home after their infamous mission by way of the shrapnel he picked up in the firefight.

The lieutenant’s wife was enamored with Penny. She called her a beautiful little doll. Petey had to remind her that Penny was his baby. She didn’t seem to appreciate that.

The next few days were confusing. Pete was urged to pack his clothes, and a few pictures. He didn’t know where he was going, but he would take care of Penny wherever he was.

Except, when he arrived at the group home for young boys, Penny wasn’t there. Sandra explained to him that Penny had been ’dopted. Lieutenant Benjamin and his wife were going to raise her now.

They didn’t want Petey.

Pete’s first fights at the group home were because some of the other boys heard him crying about Penny. He fought back with his fists and earned a beating for it.

As Pete grew older, he never forgot about his baby sister. He clung to the one grainy photo he had of them together, taken by Sandra the day of their mother’s funeral.

It took years. Approximately fifteen of them, to be exact. Pete was finally in the Navy, flying like his father, and he was stationed at the same base as Admiral Benjamin.

No one understood his fascination with the man, and he was warned off by many that his daughter was definitely off limits. But Penny was a Mitchell as well.

She snuck out, hopped on the back of Pete’s motorcycle, and he took her back to his assigned housing, and told her where she really came from. He showed her the picture of them, and the few pictures he had of their parents. He was so proud of how beautiful his baby sister was, even if she did have the nerve to already be as tall as he was (good nutrition growing up makes all the difference). She also had braces, but Duke’s teeth were unmistakable.

When Admiral Benjamin found out about them sneaking around, he threatened them both with Pete being posted far away. Pete retaliated by sneaking her into his F-14.

Once Penny was grown and out of the Admiral’s house, she got to know her big brother better. She loved the Bradshaws, and tried her best to be there for Pete and Carole after they lost Nick.

When she married her own (worthless) sailor, she hoped Pete would settle down and stop getting transferred all over the world. She knew it bothered Ice, and she missed him as well. She wanted him to see her daughter grow up.

It took time, and both their tempers cooling some with age, but Pete and Penny would spend their remaining years watching their kids (and grandkids) grow and play.

[nobecausecheese]

You're gay, give us Hatchetfield pride headcanons (please)

perfect timing!! I totally didn't get halfway through answering this ask when the page refreshed and I lost all of it!!

Finished this last night lol :)) gay nerds!!!!

I'm also blasting everyone with the autism laser beam because I'm allowed to call it like it is

And religions bc why not

NPMD:

Pete Spankoffski is transmasc (he/him), bisexual, polyamorous. Autistic and diabetic. Jewish

Steph Lauter is transfem (she/they), bisexual, sapisexual, somewhere on the ace spectrum. ADHD queen, dyslexic. Hardcore atheist. Half Black.

Grace Chasity is a demigirl (she/her but doesn't mind it/its), on the aroace spectrum. More aro than ace (aroallo Grace my beloved), polyamorous, and Sapphic! Also autistic. So fucking autistic. Christian as far as anyone knows but she has her doubts sometimes.

Steph and Pete are dating, Steph and Grace are dating, and Pete and Grace are besties who love their wifey!!! And also have sex together sometimes because you can totally have sex and also kiss as homies and somebody needs to show Grace that that's totally allowed!!!

Richie Lipschitz is intersex and I will die on this hill. I have my reasons that I can get into at a later date but. He is. To me. Bigender (he/she), identifies as a transgender boygirl. Goes by Richie and Ramona (yes like Ramona Flowers) both, sometimes both at the same time. Ruth calls her Rira sometimes :3. On the aroace spectrum, homosexual, with the only exception really being anime girls. Good for him, honestly. AuDHD, anxiety. Raised Jewish, doesn't really practice after moving in with Paul

Ruth Flemming is nonbinary (she/they), panromantic, and asexual! She wants to have sex at some point with somebody though and THAT'S ALLOWED!! AuDHD, synesthesia (colour = taste just like what I have!!). Jewish and also their parents are hippies.

Ruth and Richie-Ramona are in a queerplatonic relationship!! They love each other very much and also hate each other a little! They're gonna get married for "tax benifits" and so they can complain about their wife to other people because they think it's funny. They're right.

Max Jägerman is gay and pissed about it. Cis guy (he/him) but he's experimented with pronouns a few times. Homoromantic, pansexual. Sleeps mostly with girls and always wonders why he can't picture a relationship with them. ADHD, dyslexia, dyscalcula. Raised Christian, no longer practices but finds comfort in the scripture.

Brenda is cisgender (she/her) and bisexual. She's slept with Max at least once.

Kyle Clauger is cishet (he/him) but has kissed at least a few guys. ADHD. Christian and goes to Grace's church.

Kyle and Brenda are dating.

Stacy is cisgender (she/her) and lesbian. She's had a crush on Brenda for several years.

PJ is a demigirl (she/they) and lesbian.

Reece is transfem (she/her) and an asexual lesbian.

PJ and Reece are dating.

Jason Jepson is nonbinary (he/they) and gay. He hasn't told anyone about that though, and probably never will. Sorry buddy. AuDHD, Christian, goes to Grace's church.

BLACK FRIDAY:

Lex Foster is nonbinary (she/her and they/them with equal preference) and lesbian! Autistic, dyslexic. Hardcore athiest.

Ethan Greene is a cisgender butch woman (he/him, prefers masc terms) and bisexual! Yes he can be a woman and he/him, who gives a shit? He's Lex's boyfriend and also gonna be her wife one day. What's it to you? What are you, a fucking cop? ADHD, dyslexic. Doesn't know what to believe.

Hannah Foster is a demigirl (she/her) and probably somewhere on the aroace spectrums. She's more worried about Webby rn. Incredibly autistic but we all already knew that. Believes whatever Webby tells her.

Tom Houston is cishet (he/him) but a hardcore ally!!!! Shoutout to the gays!!! PTSD, depression, DILF disorder. Was Christian but after what he's seen, he can't believe anyone would let that happen.

Tim Houston is transmasc (he/him) and probably pan. Named himself so he matched his dad. He loves his dad so much guys. ADHD, depression. Christian and prays that his dad learns to love again.

Becky Barnes is cisgender (she/her) and bisexual! She's probably kissed every woman above the age of 35 in the entirety of Hatchetfield and THAT'S OKAY. ADHD, anxiety, PTSD. Atheist but willing to go to church if that's what the Houstons want.

Linda Monroe is cisgender (she/her), pansexual, polyamorous, and an absolute freak. Her husband is very into it. Autistic and her special interest is being a bitch. The only God she worships is HERSELF. Good for her.

Gerald Monroe is cishet (he/him) and polyamorous. Has and will sleep with men for Linda's enjoyment. He is also a freak. He loves his wife. Neurotypical as far as anyone knows. Still a freak. His wife is the closest to God he'll ever get.

Frank Pricely is a demiboy (he/him), aroace, and probably a little gay. Autistic and his special interest is money. I am not kidding about this. Good for him. Atheist.

General John MacNamera: no cops at pride. I don't care that he's gay.

Gary Goldstein is a cisgender man (he/him) and gay. He's AuDHD and Jewish.

TGWDLM:

Paul Matthews is agender (he/him but doesn't mind they/them or it/its) and pansexual. Autism gang of course. Anxiety wahoo. Like Richie, he was raised Jewish but kinda doesn't care.

Emma Perkins is nonbinary (she/they/it) and bisexual. She's also a huge bitch and I love her. ADHD, depression, smokes so much weed. Athiest but believes SOMETHING is out there.

Ted Spankoffski is a demiboy (he/it) and biromantic. He's somewhere on the ace spectrum but thinks it makes him broken so he compensates hardcore by being a sleaze. AuDHD, depression. Raised Jewish but doesn't believe anymore after Jenny.

Charlotte Sweetly is a cisgender (she/they) probably bisexual woman. AuDHD, anxiety, depression. Christian.

Bill Woodward is a cisgender (he/him) gay man. He loves his daughter to bits and thinks she's so brave for being out because he's a hashtag ally and definitely not gay at all nosiree. It's okay buddy everyone has hate hateboners for their sleazy coworkers. ADHD, depression. Christian.

Alice Woodward is a cisgender (she/her) lesbian. Good for her. ADHD, anxiety. Athiest, raided Christian.

Deb whateverthefuck is a transfem (she/her) lesbian. Athiest.

Henry Hidgens is a nonbinary (he/it) gay person. He has borderline, AuDHD, anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Believes something but nobody's quite sure what it is.

Melissa (love of my life) is a cisgender (she/they/meow) woman. She's demiromantic and asexual. The Lords have no influence over her, she's just Like That. Autistic. Atheist.

Okay I probably forgot all kinds of people but I kinda don't care anymore!

[dyns33]

Without warning - bonus 2

Frank should be used to mutants by now, with Red, the kid, Deadpool, and his soulmate. And so, their super-romantic first time should go well… Right ?

He'd done everything he could to make it go well.

A lot of work, discussions with Curtis, with Micro, with Karen, even with that fucking Red. After long breathing sessions in the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror, and a visit to Maria and the children's grave to explain, Frank felt ready.

Several people had already told him he had the right to be happy. That he could rebuild, be with someone, especially his soulmate, without it meaning he'd forgotten his family.

He had avenged them. He would always love them.

Patient and understanding, Y/N didn't push him to talk about them, but she listened attentively when the subject came up. She asked simple, gentle questions to find out what Maria was like, what the children were like, what they liked.

She never spoke of that day, or what he did afterward. Only the happy moments. She was even the one who insisted on putting their picture in her house.

"They're part of you, Frank. I wish I could have met them."

If he thought they wouldn't be together if she could have met them, it only lasted a moment. Frank had learned not to think about those kinds of scenarios. Rewriting the past was pointless.

By using Pete's name, he had a job now, he could move in with Y/N, they could have a normal life. And when next to that, Frank Castle and Ghost could sometimes teach criminals a lesson together, and with help.

"And without killing."

"… Could we vote on this rule ?"

"No, Mr. Pool. We've talked about it plenty of times."

"But Frankie and I agree that unliving people is also very effective."

"Don't bring me into the discussion."

"Ghostie ? Lil sis ? Two against two, you decide !"

"You don't want me to kill people, Wade."

"Oh, right, that's right. Fuck me for being a great big brother !"

Y/N wasn't that strict. She didn't kill, but if Frank or Wade decided not to follow Daredevil and Spiderman's ways, it wasn't really a problem for her.

The dark, violent part of his life didn't scare her, the tender, romantic part pleased her a lot too, and all that was missing was the middle part, as bestial as it was sweet.

Since Maria's death, he'd kissed Micro's wife and slept with Beth once, but it had hurt every time. Something was missing. Feelings, no doubt. Y/N.

He really wanted everything to be perfect.

The candlelit dinner before, the music, the roses, the big show. Because if he had experience, Y/N had none at all. Not like this.

Before Deadpool took care of her, she'd never had anyone in her life who simply treated her like a human being, and then, between her new, protective big brother with katanas, all the secrets, and her distrust of people, relationships hadn't been easy.

Without ever really looking for her soulmate, maybe she was waiting for Frank.

It was a real joy to see that gleam in her eyes when she walked in to discover the surprise waiting for her. Her smile, just for him, standing by the door to retrieve her coat. Magnificent.

She remained nervous despite everything, because she wasn't used to it. Every time they shared a moment together, like all lovers, she panicked a little, not knowing what she should do.

The most important thing was that she didn't feel obligated to do anything.

"We don't have to do it tonight. If you don't feel ready, if you…"

"Frank," she said, caressing his cheek. "I trust you."

If anyone had told him that a woman so charming, so fragile, so unique, would be made for him, and that she would love him, that she would trust him, he would never have believed it.

So he was going to do everything to be worthy of her. He repeated it to himself as he kissed her, attentive to her every reaction, sighs, moans, trembling skin beneath his hands.

He ran his fingers over her words, "Fuck no," which he would regret for the rest of his life, placing a kiss as if to erase them.

Everything was going perfectly.

A pure moment of ecstasy, of bliss, after sharing everything together. It was like in the stories, that feeling when he touched his soulmate, their bodies becoming one.

It was just a figure of speech, though, and when Frank saw his hands disappear into her chest, he couldn't help but jump.

Y/N immediately forgot the pleasure, looking at him at first with incomprehension as he pulled away, and then she wore the saddest look he'd ever seen.

She disappeared before he could say a word.

Even though they knew everything about each other, sometimes that wasn't enough to predict everything. Like the fact that despite years of practice, Ghost could forget how to control her powers when she experienced an orgasm.

After several hours of talking alone in the apartment, hoping she was there, invisible but listening, and then trying to reach her by phone in vain, Frank went looking for her.

Not finding her at Al's, and after checking that Team Red wasn't out that evening, he went to Saint Margaret's. When he asked if he'd seen Y/N, Wade Wilson immediately reacted negatively, asking him what he'd done now, and if he should cut his balls off.

Without going into details, Frank explained the situation, and even though he showed his displeasure that his dear little sister had been injured by the Punisher, he calmed down a bit.

"You do one thing right, and the next moment you screw up like crazy. But nothing that terrible. Y/N probably needs some time to accept that she disgusts you."

"She doesn't disgust me at all !"

"We've been told for a long time that we're freaks, that's alright. But you're nice, Frankie. You're going to apologize. She loves you too much to stay mad, so everything will end well, even if you sleep on the couch for a while."

"I didn't think she was a freak at all ! I… I was surprised."

"Honestly, that's fine with me. I don't really like imagining you with her, it makes me want to murder someone. I'm not killing you only because I promised DD and Spidey, and even if you're not smart, you still make Y/N happy most of the time."

His only advice was to wait. She would come back.

Frank didn't listen, even though Wade was probably right, and he continued searching for her in the city streets until the sun began to appear.

When he collapsed on the sofa, he sighed at the table where the candles were now extinguished, the rose petals already beginning to wilt, along with the memory of what had been another good evening. He only got up to pick up the bottle of wine, returning to his seat to drain it in one gulp.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Not Max, who was asleep in his basket. Slowly, he placed the bottle on the sofa, never taking his eyes off Y/N. As if that would prevent her from disappearing again from the armchair opposite him.

She had cried, it was obvious, and now she wore a neutral, almost dead expression. Maybe he should have let Wilson cut off his balls, he kind of deserved it.

"You're not a freak." he murmured.

"What would you say if I told you I sometimes enter you without permission, to curl up next to your heart, surrounded by your entire being and lulled by your sounds ?"

"… If it pleases you, although I'd prefer to have you in my arms. I can't see you if you're totally inside."

A silence passed for what seemed like an eternity, which Y/N ​​broke with a giggle, before bursting into laughter.

"Hmm. You don't do that at all, uh ?"

"No." she sneered. "I could, but it would be creepy. And I love your hugs so much."

"I'm sorry. I panicked, I didn't think, I…"

"Shh. It's not anyone's fault. I didn't think this was coming either, and I shouldn't have left like that. I'll control myself better next time."

But Frank cursed, shaking his head, not at all satisfied with this answer. He went to kneel in front of Y/N, taking her hand.

"Show me."

"… Are you sure ?"

"Yeah. Show me."

It was weird, he wasn't going to deny it, watching his hand disappear into hers, then hers disappear as well, until he couldn't tell which hand he was seeing, but it didn't hurt. He liked it when their fingers simply intertwined, but if that was a sign that she was relaxed, then it was no problem.

"I don't think we finished last night." she whispered shyly, not looking at him.

"We don't have to now."

"Oh. If you don't want to…"

Frank didn't let her finish, his mouth crashing against hers as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, Wade's words echoing in his head. There was no way he was staying on the couch while she thought he didn't want her.

Because she was the only thing he wanted right now. So this time, when her body swallowed the parts that touched her or were inside her, he could say that everything was more than perfect.

[bcacstuff]

One of the US reviews for TCND:

These days, Sam Heughan is a fan-favorite presence on the small screen, but he wouldn't have garnered mainstream awareness if it hadn't been for his breakout role in the hit television adaptation of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander book series. Over the last decade, Heughan's performance as a swoony Scottish hero and self-professed wife guy on the Starz series has propelled him to certified heartthrob status — but with Outlander finally set to conclude with its eighth and final season at a date yet to be determined, it's no wonder Heughan has been taking other projects, perhaps in an effort to step out from the long shadow that Jamie Fraser still casts.

On paper, The Couple Next Door, Starz's six-part psychological thriller based on the Dutch series Nieuwe Buren, has a lot going for it, as messy relationship dynamics play out against the idyllic backdrop of suburbia — and at first, the show gives every indication that it's ramping up to an erotic, twisted climax. But despite best attempts from Heughan, along with his main co-stars Eleanor Tomlinson (Poldark), Jessica de Gouw (Arrow), and Alfred Enoch (How To Get Away With Murder), the series frustratingly pivots away from its most intriguing elements in favor of weaker B-plots, ultimately resulting in a hectic finale that relies too heavily on outdated, regressive tropes to drive its biggest conflicts.

What Is 'The Couple Next Door' About?

Primary school teacher Evie Greenwood (Tomlinson) and her partner, journalist Pete Thomas (Enoch), are looking for a fresh start in more ways than one. Moving to a small suburb in Leeds feels like the right next move for the young couple, especially once they run into their next-door neighbors, PC Danny Whitwell (Heughan) and his wife, yoga instructor Becka (de Gouw), while attempting to lug their belongings into the new house. Evie is drawn to the beautiful young couple from the start for a variety of reasons, the most obvious being her attraction to Danny. However, as someone who grew up in a very conservative, religious household, Evie's eyes are soon opened to her neighbors' more non-traditional lifestyle.

As the four spend more and more time together, Becka and Danny disclose the fact that they're non-monogamous, even if they make a point of always "playing" together with other couples. As Evie starts to entertain the idea of experimentation, Pete's reservations about opening up their relationship lead to rising tensions. Yet their drama isn't the only one that plays out within this seemingly sleepy community. As a somewhat lowly traffic cop with little authority and mounting bills to pay, Danny begins to accept late-night jobs that don't exactly fall on the legal side of things — right around the time that Pete starts digging into local corruption for his latest exposé. As for Becka, she's built a successful social media presence, but she's also attracted a creepy real-life stalker in the process, one who isn't willing to go away without throwing a wrench into her picture-perfect existence.

Over the first half of its eight episodes (all of which were provided for review), The Couple Next Door has a lot of promise, especially when it focuses on the evolving and tangled relationships between its main foursome. Yet the series is also majorly underserved by its pacing, as it spends a significant amount of time devoted to building up that tension and then ultimately fails at offering a more nuanced depiction of attraction and obsession given the sheer number of other characters and storylines that have to be juggled. The problem is that none of these secondary threads are even remotely as interesting as the main one; every scene spared for Becka's stalker, or Danny's off-the-books job, or any side character for that matter, feels like a missed opportunity to return to the emotional rollercoaster playing out between the two leading couples. Cutting at least one of these B-plots may also have resulted in a better lead-up to the finale, which climaxes in a way that feels extreme, even for these four.

Some characters are afforded better treatment — in many instances, de Gouw's Becka feels like one of the only mature adults in the room — but others seem to regress in increasingly drastic ways purely for the sake of drama. Unfortunately, The Couple Next Door joins recent films like Nightbitch and Babygirl in giving one of its female characters a backstory steeped in extreme, cult-like religion that feels perplexing at best and reductive at worst in justifying sexual exploration. Evie's ignorance about polyamory could've been filtered through a simpler, more straightforward premise of a woman embracing her innermost desires, and the blurred lines that result when she finds herself falling for the one person she shouldn't. But Tomlinson's character is done the biggest disservice over the course of the season; as Evie's fixation on Danny intensifies, she becomes even more of a caricature, with her later scenes devolving into stereotypical '80s erotic thriller territory — and not in a way that can be considered complimentary. The show's men don't fare any better; while he does have excellent chemistry with both Tomlinson and de Gouw in the scenes that call for it, Heughan is given very little to do other than handsomely brood. Meanwhile, Enoch, in welcome contrast, initially gets to play a more level-headed and less alpha presence, but, like Evie, Pete's characterization annoyingly falls prey to jealousy and rage.

In many ways, this show would have been better off solely revolving around these objectively attractive people and the palpable tension that stems from them debating whether they should all sleep together — and to a point, The Couple Next Door delivers on that front. But the season quickly becomes derailed by way of less intriguing subplots, disappointing character regression, and poor pacing that struggles to build to a satisfying finale. It'd be one thing if there was a promise for more at the end of it all, but with the show having already been renewed for a Season 2 featuring a completely new cast, there's no opportunity for this version of The Couple Next Door to continue. Given how it all wraps up, though, maybe that's for the best.

The Couple Next Door premieres January 17 on Starz.

[oensible]

Centre Ice (October 2012), pp. 1, 38, 40–43, 62

Cover photoshoot photographer: Justin Van Leeuwen (Flickr/blog)

Game photographer (pg. 42): Mark Holleron

It was a tight schedule, figuring out when to shoot Cody only a few days before deadline… he also had a cold, but he’s a tough hockey player and you really can’t tell. [...] Cody was fun to shoot, he’s a successful good looking kid, signed to the NHL at the tender age of 18. I reminded him that he should pay back his parents for all the years they put him and his siblings through hockey before going out and buying a sports car.

—Van Leeuwen/jvlphoto (2012 Sept 21)

NOTES:

the hillary's ad page originally comes before the article in the magazine. moved it to save space without affecting the spread

omitted pages 8 (contains smaller version of the hallway shot, substituted with the flickr upload by the photographer), 30 (too crunchy, standard guy-standing-during-game shot), and 33 (team portraits page)

omitted original version of the cover image (redundant. also available on flickr) and the portrait against white (low resolution, not cohesive with the rest of this post) from the jvlphoto blog post

Article transcript below the cut.

Full Circle

Cody Ceci's hockey journey

Written by Braedon Clark

The picture has been scanned onto Parri Ceci's phone, rescued from a dusty box by his wife Karen. The Senators wanted some childhood photos of their latest draft pick, Parri and Karen's son Cody, and this one was a no-brainer.

Cody is four years old in the picture, his sister Chelsea six. Their Senators jerseys are littered with signatures. Both smile for the camera, Cody's grin obvious even behind the cage of his mask. The man in the middle of the shot, arms around both kids, is Daniel Alfredsson. All three are standing at centre ice, skates astride the Senators logo at what was then the Corel Centre.

Fourteen years later, Cody Ceci's hockey journey has taken him full circle. In late June, he was drafted 15th overall by the Senators after playing for his hometown 67's for the past three seasons. Less than a month ago, he signed his first NHL contract in the same building where he once skated as a four-year-old, where he once cheered from the stands, where he once posed with childhood heroes-turned-teammates.

"That picture probably makes (Alfredsson) feel pretty old, but it's pretty cool for me," Cody says with a smile. "Just getting to meet him a few times when I was younger was huge for me and now to play on the same team would be pretty crazy."

It may be unlikely still, as the NHL seems poised to plunge into its second lockout in just eight years. Along with every other would-be rookie, Cody might not get a chance to make the big club if the season doesn't start on time.

"I'm just trying to prepare myself as if there is going to be a season," he says. "I'm just going to go hard in the next few weeks trying to get ready for Sens camp and if there is one, great. If not, it'd be pretty unfortunate."

For now, on this flawless Saturday morning, Cody is at the Fred Barrett Arena in Gloucester, where the 67's are holding training camp. He's dressed casually — sunglasses rest atop his head, while shorts and sandals complete the summer ensemble. A recent bout of strep throat has kept him off the ice, forcing him to watch from behind the glass like everyone else.

Despite his made-in-Ottawa pedigree, Cody did move to Peterborough when he was 13 to attend Lakefield College School, a prestigious institution that was attractive because of its high academic standards.

"Another friend of ours whom (Cody) had played spring hockey with suggested it," explains Parri. "Their two sons had gone there for educational reasons because their graduating class averaged 85 per cent. It was a really good opportunity for Cody and he was thrilled to go. He loved the school."

On the ice, Cody stood out as a member of the Peterborough Petes AAA minor midget squad.

"You knew he was going to the NHL," says Wayne Clark, who coached Cody during his OHL draft year.

"He had an absolute hammer of a slapshot from the point."

For Clarke, one moment during a tournament in Belleville especially stands out from that season.

"We had a power play and we started to isolate Cody and another player we had, Turner Evans, on the right side," Clark remembers. "Cody blew one shot over the goalie and a whole bunch of OHL scouts and I said, 'Wow, he is this good. Some of these tools are outstanding."

That slapshot helped Cody get drafted 16th overall in 2009. Only two years removed from leaving his home in Orleans, he was back.

During the ensuing three seasons with the 67's, Cody developed into an elite defenceman with an offensive touch, tallying 60 points in 64 games last season.

That combination of skills made him one of the highest-ranked prospects heading into June's NHL draft in Pittsburgh. According to Parri, Winnipeg and Dallas had expressed interest, but as those picks came and went a nervous tension settled on the Ceci travelling party.

"When they finally stood up at the mike and said my name it was just a great feeling that I was going to stay at home," Cody says.

"We didn't even hear the announcement because there were so many people around us cheering," adds Parri.

Since that night there hasn't been much time for celebration. Cody was on the ice at rookie camp within a couple of weeks and trains almost every day with a group that includes several NHL draftees. He also played in the Canada-Russia Challenge, where his lack of playing time – he only appeared in two of the four games – drew some negative press.

"The main thing is what the Sens are saying to me about it," he explains. "They didn't seem too angry or anything, just more frustrated that I didn't play that much."

As a capper to a whirlwind summer, Cody recently signed a three year, $2.775-million contract with the Senators. But don't expect him to move into a swank bachelor pad anytime soon. Cody says his dad has been counselling him about money management –The Wealthy Barber is on the reading list – and his mom loves having him at home.

With few distractions to speak of, Cody can focus on getting better and making the Senators in the event that a lockout is avoided. Chris Byrne, head coach and general manager of the 67's, knows what adjustments his star defenceman will have to make.

"It's obviously the best league in the world so it's definitely a few rungs up on the ladder," Byrne says. "For him, depending on how well his game adjusts to that higher speed and level will determine how quickly he gets there."

Back at training camp, Cody reflects on what it's like to be famous at 18. He seems especially attuned to the emotions of young autograph-seekers, perhaps because he was one himself not so long ago.

"You know they're just building up courage to talk to you so you don't want to let them down or anything," he says. "It's hard for them to even come up and ask because they feel embarrassed, but at the same time they just really want it and they're kind of nervous to talk to you. It's kind of cool that happens and you just make sure you respect them."

The first on-ice scrimmage comes to an end with the shrill sound of the horn. The hopefuls from the black and white teams skate wearily to the locker room as Cody joins the rush of people trying to escape the chill of the rink for the inviting warmth of the lobby.

Everyone here knows who he is. As he makes his way through the crowd, several people give him a nod or a quick hello. About five feet behind him are two young boys, no more than six or seven. They move a little closer, then fall back, dancing with apprehension and nerves. Finally one of them works up the courage.

"Will you take a picture with us?" he asks with a small voice.

"Sure." Cody says.

He stands in the middle, arms draped over the tiny shoulders to his left and right. The picture is taken and the two little boys thank him before running over to see how it turned out.

Full circle indeed.

CODY'S ICE FLOW

YEAR — TEAM — COACH

1999 — Gators-IP — Denis Sicotte

2000 — Aardvarks-IP — Stephane Drouin

2001 — Barons-Novice B — Mike Funai

2002-Spring — 67's AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2002 — Barons - Minor Atom B — Guy Bigonesse

2003-Spring — 67's AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2003 — Barons-Atom AA — Guy Bigonesse

2004-Spring — 67's AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2004 — Barons-Minor Peewee A — Jeff Akeson

2005-Spring — Riot AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2005 — Barons-Peewee AA — Richard Julien

2006-Spring — Riot AAA — Guy Bigonesse

2006 — Barons-Minor Bantam AA — Richard Legault

2007-Spring — Riot AAA — Martin Dagenais

2007 — Peterborough Petes Bantam AAA — Scott Donato

(2007) — Lakefield College School Varsity — lan Armstrong

2008-Spring — Riot AAA — Martin Dagenais

2008 — Peterborough Petes Minor Midget AAA — Wayne Clark

(2008) — Lakefield College School Varsity — lan Armstrong

(2008) — Peterborough Stars Jr. A — Paul Matucci

2009-Spring — Riot AAA — Martin Dagenais

2009 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

December 2009 — U17 Team Ontario (Timmins) — Jake Grimes

2010 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

2011-Spring — U18 Team Canada (Germany) — Mike Williamson

2011 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

(2011) — OHL vs. Russia — George Burnett

2012-Fall — WJC vs. Russia — Steve Spott

2012 — Ottawa 67's (OHL) — Chris Byrne

[lochallthedoors]

The end of Oasis: the truth

Guitar smashing and recriminations... The events and causes of the bust-up that ended with Noel Gallagher walking out

Pete Paphides

Friday September 04 2009, 1.01am BST, The Times

Like a Cassandra to his own Trojan war, it might just be that last year Liam Gallagher saw the events of the past few weeks advancing over the horizon and felt unmoved to avert them. If, as sources close to the band suggest, the rest of Oasis plan to continue beyond Noel Gallagher’s departure, then the Liam-penned final tune on last year’s Dig Out Your Soul will assume some prescience. “Who’s to say/You were right/And I was wrong?/Soldier on.” Would they dare to, though? What kind of an ego would it take to continue Oasis without their songwriter Noel Gallagher, the man who gave them Live Forever, Wonderwall and Supersonic?

There’s no shortage of anecdotal material to suggest that Liam has succumbed to many of the clich?s that surround the pampered rock frontman. Own dressing room? Check. Boutique clothing range? Check. Personal security guard? Check. From here, it would be natural to infer a gulf that has Noel and the rest of Oasis on one side and Liam — who has long since relinquished even the need to be present at soundchecks — on the other. And yet it’s worth noting that — in the wake of the fight that nixed their appearance at Friday’s Paris en Seine festival — Liam and his wife Nicole Appleton high-tailed it to Lake Como in Italy with the Oasis bassist Andy Bell and his girlfriend in tow. According to one insider: “People are scared of Liam. And if he wants to carry on the band, Andy and [guitarist] Gem Archer will probably go along with it.” In the statement released hours after the Paris altercation, Noel pronounced himself disappointed with the “lack of support and understanding from my management and bandmates that left me with no other option than to seek pastures new”.

The history of brothers in bands — from the Bee Gees to the Kinks — is dotted with recriminations and subsequent reconciliations. Oasis have had their fair share, most seriously in Barcelona nine years ago, when Liam goaded his brother by casting doubt on the legitimacy of Noel’s daughter Anaïs. Wasn’t there every reason, then, to assume that these latest wounds would also heal? Their mother Peggy seems to think so. “They love each other,” she says. “They’ve had fights before and got over it.”

Mothers often know best, but mothers are also rarely able to view their children’s spats as, well, anything more than children’s spats. In the wake of Oasis’s no-show at the V Festival — attributed to Liam’s laryngitis — the singer had seemed similarly keen to play down rumours that the band’s future was in jeopardy. Bypassing the spellchecking software on his phone, he issued a reassuring tweet to his fans: “The voice may of disappeared, but I’m still here ... I’m gutted your gutted what can I say f*** all at the moment.”

Friends of the guitarist, however, were left with an altogether graver picture. Noel told friends that Oasis would never play a British show again, the implication being that if they could just see out their remaining European festival shows, he could walk away quietly. If Oasis had fulfilled the Paris obligation, they would have had just one more show left to play.

So what happened at Rock en Seine to tip Noel over the edge? Despite occupying the neighbouring dressing room, the New York band Vampire Weekend have kept their counsel, merely hinting at the weirdness of coming off stage following a triumphant set to encounter ugly scenes. The Scottish singer-songwriter Amy McDonald was less discreet: “Oasis cancelled again, with one minute to stage time! Liam smashed Noel’s guitar, huuuge fight!”

Speaking to The Times, a source close to Noel said: “The problems began even before Liam arrived in Paris. He travelled separately from the band, as he does these days, on Eurostar. By the time he got to the venue he was his usual confrontational self. He said things about Noel’s family and made pointed personal insinuations about Sara [MacDonald, Noel’s partner].” What we now also know is that the guitar smashing involved an acoustic guitar given to Liam by Appleton, to which Noel laid waste before walking away.

In any band of Oasis’s stature there are usually systems in place to stop the build-up of tensions. If pre-gig drinking has the potential to become an issue, management and the security staff employed by them can ensure that group members make it onstage in a state of relative sobriety. In the days when Liam Gallagher was merely the frontman with Oasis, such matters would have been dealt with by the group’s management company, Ignition. In 2009, however, things have ceased to be as simple. Accompanying Gallagher on Eurostar was Stevie Allen, Liam’s personal security guard and the business partner with whom the singer set up his clothing line Pretty Green. As anyone who has kept up with Liam’s Twitter updates this year will know, the singer’s enthusiasm for Pretty Green seems, at times, to have eclipsed his enthusiasm for his band.

Sources close to Noel say that he is furious at what he sees as Liam’s willingness to use the goodwill earned by Oasis’s music to sell clothes. The confusion between Liam’s band and brand was further heightened by the singer’s recent interview with NME, arranged through the PR he uses for Pretty Green. Parading various garments on his label, Liam confirmed that the pair were no longer on speaking terms, alleging: “It takes more than blood to be my brother.”

Others have questioned the wisdom of a band with Oasis’s fractious history committing to a ten-month world tour — not least because of issues around the recording of Dig Out Your Soul that were still not resolved before its release. After eight weeks of sessions at Abbey Road studios, Liam had yet to record a single vocal. Speaking to Q magazine, Noel revealed that Liam waited until mixing for the album commenced in LA before recording his vocals. Even then, halfway though the fortnight-long stay in LA, Liam fled to London, saying he had “some business to attend to”. This, it turns out, was his wedding to Appleton, to which none of his bandmates had been invited. As a result, Noel told Q, the band were forced to shelve two album tracks, including “an epic, Champagne Supernova song with backwards Are You Experienced-type rhythms” and a 50-piece choir. Anything but contrite, Liam tweeted: “A 50-piece choir on it ... more like 50 shit guitar solos on it.”

And that’s the way it’s been with the Gallaghers this year. “He’s constantly going on about how much soul he’s got,” Noel said. “I assume Bob Marley had soul ... I don’t see Bob Marley at the Rainbow [the scene of the famous Wailers concert in 1977] wailing about the colour of the napkins in his dressing room.”

Paul Rees, the editor of Q, remembers being struck by the way that, throughtout their interview, Noel kept bringing the subject around to his brother. “He seemed so tired,” Rees says. “People who have seen them on tour this year have noticed that he seems to be going through the motions.”

Beneath the weariness, however, is hurt. “He’s never seen my little lad [one year-old Donovan]. Just pictures,” Noel confided (a claim strenuously refuted by Liam). “If you were in the circle of people that we are in, you wouldn’t have him in the house if he spoke to you the way he speaks to me and my family.”

One bone of contention appears to be MacDonald herself, who Liam is said to have consistently sought to antagonise. “At the Brits in 2007 Liam snatched her glass of wine and allowed it to smash at her feet,” one insider alleges. And the source of the acrimony? “They move in different circles. Sara knows journalists and people in the media. He sees her as sleeping with the enemy. Liam seems to prefer celebrities. He’s friends with Gok Wan and Holly Willoughby. Noel, meanwhile, prefers the company of musicians.”

Rees echoes the sentiments: “Noel has always been keen to broaden his musical horizons — perhaps more than Oasis would allow at times.” The man who discovered Oasis, Alan McGee, reckons it’ll be less than five years before the brothers end up on the same stage together. Friends of Noel suggest that ten years is a more realistic assessment. But If Liam’s ego has spiralled out of control, Noel may want to stop and consider whether he inadvertently had a hand in the process. Seven years ago, when his younger brother brought his maiden songwriting effort Little James to the table, Noel encouraged him to write more. Now, with three creditable efforts on Dig Out Your Soul, it’s conceivable that Liam — who, lest we forget, started Oasis without his brother — feels bold enough to carry the burden of their reputation.

In a funny way, he may even have a point. In this divorce, Liam may come off surprisingly well — at least in monetary terms. It may not excite the critics, but an Oasis that functions as a travelling jukebox — Britpop’s first heritage act — may play in Liam’s favour. Hard to imagine? Go and see Oasis live and the beery mass you see bellowing the words to Wonderwall bear far greater resemblance to Liam than Noel. Will they mind if Oasis never record another note? Or do they just want to party like it’s 1995?

[mariacallous]

“No one would allow that he could not see these much-admired clothes; because, in doing so, he would have declared himself either a simpleton or unfit of his office.” Hans Christian Andersen, “The Emperor’s New Clothes”

Musk-Trump inherited a state with unprecedented power and functionality, and are taking it apart. They also inherited a set of alliances and relationships that underpinned the largest economy in world history. This too they are breaking.

The American vice-president, JD Vance, visited an American base Greenland for three hours yesterday, along with his wife. National Security Advisor Mike Waltz and his wife also came along. Fresh from illegally using an unsafe social media platform to carry out an entirely unnecessary group chat in which they leaked sensitive data about an ongoing military attack to a reporter, Waltz and Vance perhaps hoped to change the subject by tagging along on a trip which was initially billed as Vance’s wife watching a dogsled race.

The overall context was Donald Trump’s persistent claim that America must take Greenland, which is an autonomous region of Denmark. The original plan had been that Usha Vance would visit Greenlanders, apparently on the logic that the Second Lady would be an effective animatrice of colonial subjection; but none of them wanted to see her, and Greenland’s businesses refused to serve as a backdrop to photo ops or even to serve the uninvited Americans. So instead the American couples all made a very quick visit to Pituffik Space Base. (Pete Hegseth, another group chatter, stayed home; but his wife was in the news as well, as an unorthodox participant in sensitive military discussions.)

At the base, in the far north of the island, the American visitors had pictures taken of themselves and ate lunch with servicemen and servicewomen. They treated the base as the backdrop to a press conference where they could say things they already thought; nothing was experienced, nothing was learned, nothing sensible was said. Vance, who never left the base, and has never before visited Greenland, was quite sure how Greenlanders should live. He made a political appeal to Greenlanders, none of whom was present, or anywhere near him. He claimed that Denmark was not protecting the security of Greenlanders in the Arctic, and that the United States would. Greenland should therefore join the United States.

It takes some patience to unwind all of the nonsense here.