#the crosby effect on everyone.....

[martyrbat]

‘he still looks good! handsome guy...’ ‘aging well, hair still thick....’

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Misunderstanding

John Brady X Navigator! Reader

Summary: Brady has a crush on Y/n, but it seems like someone is already with her, or is he...

Warning: Fluff/ use of Y/n/ kissing/

Word count: 1k

Y/n and Bucky have always been Y/n and Bucky since they arrived at Thorpe Abbotts. Everyone knew that they were the best of friends, and they came in a pair; everyone except John Brady. When Brady saw Y/n for the first time, he immediately fell in love; the way she walked, she smiled, she laughed, he loved everything about her. The only problem was John Egan. They were together all the time, Brady assumed that they were a couple.

She was a navigator, but she didn’t fly. She helped organise the missions, calculating where the boys would drop their bombs and how much fuel they needed, she was pretty important on the base. Egan loved to praise her, mostly her brain. Saying how smart she was and how easily she did her job. That didn’t help Brady’s mind, he was convinced that they were a couple. Instead of asking about their relationship, like a normal person, he preferred to assume their relationship, he didn’t want to embarrass himself by asking them.

Y/n was currently in her office, doing some calculations when John Brady knocked at her door. Since it was open, he just leaned against the door frame. ‘’Lieutenant Brady, hi, how may I help you’’ she smiled as she looked up at him. ‘’Hi, Lieutenant Y/l/n, I was just coming to see if, uh, you would like to go get coffee with me?’’ he asked. Y/n smiled and looked at her charts, she could use a break. ‘’Sure! I’ve been doing this for decades; a coffee wouldn’t hurt’’ she smiled as she got up her chair. Brady had to contain his joy; he bit the inside of his cheek to stop his growing smile. Y/n walked in front of him, he closed her door as they walked to the cafeteria. It was the first time he made a move on her, he’d usually watch her from afar, but today, Bucky was out of sight, so he decided to make a move.

‘’What are you working on?’’ he asked as he took a sip of coffee. ‘’Upcoming missions, I have to choose between two target spots, I have to calculate the distance, the fuel and determinate which one would be more effective and cost less in resources.’’ She explained, her eyes were sparkling. She was talking about something that she loved to do, and it showed. Y/n looked up to see Brady looking at her in a way that sent butterflies to her stomach. ‘’Why are you looking at me like that?’’ she chuckled as she took a sip of her drink. ‘’Like what?’’ he played the innocent card. ‘’Like this’’ she laughed as she mimicked his face. He giggled as he looked at her. She looked at her watch. ‘’I gotta get back to the plans, I’ve been gone for too long, and I have to do more so I can go to the party tonight’’ she babbled. He loved to listen to her, she had a beautiful voice, and he couldn’t complain about hearing it.

‘’How come you didn’t ask Laura to come with you?’’ Y/n asked Bucky as they entered the room. ‘’Because I wanted to go with you, my best friend’’ he replied. ‘’Fair enough’’ she rose her eyebrows as guys came to talk with Bucky. ‘’Excuse me for a second’’ she smiled as she walked away. Brady looked at her from across the room, she looked amazing with her dress, it changed from her usual uniform. Brady decided to not talk to her, since she came in with Bucky, he didn’t want to take their moment.

He looked at the couples dancing, imagining what it would be like to dance with Y/n, as he watched the couple, his eyes stopped on a familiar face. Why was John Egan dancing with a woman that wasn’t Y/n? And why was he kissing her?! Then, everything clicked inside his mind: They weren’t dating, Y/n and Bucky were best friends! How could have he been so stupid? Of course, and everyone on the base has been talking about their friendship. He had been blinded by love. But wait a second, if Bucky wasn’t dating Y/n, that meant she was single! He had to find her!

She was talking with Harry Crosby when she saw Brady walk towards them. She blushed as she saw him, he was her crush. She liked him a lot, he cared about her, and he was the sweetest person she’d ever met. ‘’Croz, Y/n, can I talk to you for a second?’’ he asks the woman. She nodded and they walk outside. ‘’You look beautiful’’ he complimented her. She blushed, hoping he didn’t notice the color on her cheek. ‘’Thank you, Lieutenant’’ she smiled. ‘’Please, call me Brady’’ he said, looking at her. ‘’Thank you, Brady’’ she corrected herself. ‘’Are you enjoying yourself?’’ she asked him. ‘’Yeah, I’m having fun, but I’m quite nervous’’ he admitted. ‘’Why are you nervous?’’ she asked, clueless. ‘’Well, uh, you and Bucky aren’t together, right?’’ he asked as the woman shook her head. ‘’B-because I have to be honest. I like you, Y/n, a lot’’ he blurted out. She bit her bottom lip as they stopped walking. ‘’I like you too, Brady’’ she admitted. He was in shock, she liked him back! ‘’R-r-really?’’ he stuttered. She nodded. ‘’Yeah, I like you a lot, too’’ she said again.

He was grinning like the town idiot, and she was smiling and blushing. They were like 12-year-olds, they were holding hands as they walked around base. ‘’Is it okay if I kiss you?’’ he asked her. ‘’It’s more than okay’’ she replied, smiling. He leaned in to kiss her, she stood on her tippy toes to help him. When their lips touched, it felt like fireworks, passion, love and attraction was in the mixt when they kissed. Both of his hands were on her cheeks, holding her. Y/n’s hands were behind his neck. ‘’Well, I’ll be damned. Finally! It was painful, seeing you guys drool over the other!’’ Bucky exclaimed, his arm over Laura’s shoulder. Brady and Y/n took a step back as they looked at the disturbance. ‘’You guys are so cute together!’’ Laura exclaimed. Y/n giggled as she looked at Brady. ‘’Damn right we are’’ he said, putting his arm over Y/n’s shoulder. ‘’But if you hurt her, watch your back’’ Bucky warned. ‘’I don’t plan on it’’ he said, holding eye contact with Y/n. ‘’You better’’ the woman smiled as they watched Bucky leaving. ‘’Yeah, I’ve liked you for too long to hurt you’’

[holy-puckslibrary]

sid to a furry friend's rescue!

florist!reader gets flustered during sid's calendar shoot

oh, nothing... just them playing house doing a mentorship day and stirring up the rumor mill... another tuesday!

gif from @ehghtyseven

Sidney remains cautious around the local amateur matchmaker, adopting a level of vigilance, one not unlike that of the state he experienced while on duty, whenever she and her cohort openly collude on his behalf. Unfortunately for him—and anyone else audacious enough to be single in their vicinity, their movements are as unpredictable as they are assured to occur.

He could be milling around the market down the block from the station, or waiting for his order at the hole-in-the-wall café beside your shop—even his mailbox was fair game. Blissfully alone one minute, and the next? He's center stage as Halifax's Most Eligible Bachelor, unwittingly sifting through a rolodex of eager contestants, many of whom present in name only.

Their community wasn't remarkable small, but it was quiet. So, Sid could understand the appeal. The residents, many of whom were nearing retirement or already had been for several years, had little else to fuss over. It wasn't uncommon for a single person to become a central topic of conversation at the bingo table or the church pew. Everyone got their turn.

But, of the community's ever-dwindling pool, Sidney Crosby is most definitely the favorite, with you not far behind.

When you arrived, Sid breathed a sigh of relief. Fresh meat meant that, at least a little while, the heat would be off his back. He could go about his business without a peanut gallery or having to stand trial over the state of his (non-existent) romantic life.

It felt somewhat callous to hope for someone else's life to be probed and scrutinized the way his has been, but his reprieve was long overdue. And it wasn't as though he intended for you to fend for yourself. He knew firsthand how relentless Madame Matchmaker—as she liked to be called—could be, and therefore, he could be a vital resource and a nice shoulder to lean on.

You were receptive to his aid and grateful for his kindness, and while Sidney anticipated this alliance of sorts would be largely one-way, he was pleasantly surprised to realize a positive, unintended consequence—a deterrence to meddling. With you by his side, Sidney was approached significantly less.

You both were.

And you knew why. It wasn't hard to connect the dots; appearing together effectively marked you as "off-limits," and, therefore, not worth their time or help.

However, it soon became clear the rouse worked a little too well. And, unwilling to fabricate a half-truth or outright lie, the horde of Cupids found reason to descend with renewed fervor. This time, with a fresh initiative: to bring their fantastical assumptions to fruition.

Today's doings were further fodder, and the pile of pooped toddlers curled between you being the chief culprits.

For nearly eight hours, you looked and behaved like a stereotypical nuclear family out for field trip. The day began with a breakfast spread seated at your breakfast nook and a leisurely stroll through the neighborhood. Then, a trip to your shop for a light lesson in floriculture and an introduction to bouquet arrangement, before the four of you made your way to the station for an edu-chat on fire prevention and safety. And, of course, a gear try-on and (assisted) turns with the fire hose. (Sidney wishes he would've snuck a photo of you donning his helmet.)

As the sun slipped closer to the horizon, you crumpled onto a bench framing the park in the center of town.

Managing two children together for Mentor Day seemed less daunting than going it alone, and it had been—but at what cost?

The hushed giggles just within earshot are measure enough.

"We're never going to hear the end of this, are we?"

Sidney hides his splitting grin behind his hand, all too aware of the typical spectators not two yards from where you're sat. It was best to find amusement in their meddling whenever possible.

"Definitely not," he concurs.

You lapse into comfortable silence, as you usually do around this hour on one of your back porches. The fading sun paints the town square in a buttery golden light soon after. Neither of you can resist stealing glances, open and lingering, too eager to watch the color dance across the other's face to worry about public perception and speculation.

Tired eyes tracking over your face, Sidney hums, "Today was a good day."

He watches you nod in agreement, a dreamy little smile pulling at your mouth. Behind the children's heads, your warm fingers tangle in his. His heart thuds when your hand gently squeezes his three times.

"Yeah, it was."

—

someone let me give him kids! now!

as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!

READ MORE OF THEM HERE!

[dulcewrites]

White Christmas

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x wife!reader (a spy/The Americans au)

Summary: Bob has never been one to reminisce - his job keeps him ever-moving forward. But the holidays calls for reflection. (Wc: 1k +)

Warning: this came out more angsty than I thought :/

A/N: First, just want to say Happy Holidays and or Merry Christmas to those that celebrate. I wanted to get this out a bit earlier but life was life-ing lmao. This is my submission for @lewmagoo’s a lew magoo Christmas. I can’t wait to go back and read/interact everyone’s submissions. This is based off the song by Bing Crosby. This was not the original idea I had; this is much more melancholy but I think it came out well. I could not decide if I wanted to do a fic or moodboard so I kind of put them together. Please like, reblog, and or comment if you read something you enjoy ❤️❄️

Masterlist

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white

Bob has been able to mark his life through events. Not exactly just with time or his age. Instead through a series of actions and domino effects that have set his life up to where it is now. He does not remember being 10, he just remembers the little house he was taken from. He doesn’t remember being 16, just the cold, smooth metal of his first revolver. His 26th birthday, with the real day he was born, was uneventful and terribly dull.

… that was until he got the envelope.

A face. A name. A never-ending mission. A wife to be.

27 was marked by a quick wedding. 28 was cemented by a crying baby girl and the sickly-sweet smell of baby wipes he grew to love. By 30, he saw his first gray hair and one little girl turned into two. Now he wonders what he can hang 37 on. He doesn't want it to be the bodies that have been left behind or 'daddy's business trips' as Georgia says.

Bob wants more. For once he wants something different. Something softer.

An idealist with the bloody ledger of a cynic, you call him. It is always with a smile but the biting edge that your voice can have never fully leaves. Bob thinks you resent that about him while likes to believe that it is a good thing - the little tug in the bottom of his stomach that he gets. Bob does his job, and he has done it valiantly for. Some days he may say he even loves what he does. But with his love comes a soft layer of sadness. It comes with wondering if there could be more outside of kills and mission and the bullshit, he would not have chosen for himself as a child. When things were syrupy in the way everything is when you're a kid.

The wistfulness grows stronger as the weather changes, and a dusty of white magic settles over the ground. The first winter snow he can remember in a long time.

The cabin idea comes with apprehension from you. Christmas was a holiday the two of you grinned and bared for the sake of the girls, but Bob found the words slipping out of his mouth. His fingers already inched looking into places - a little blue house in the snow. He knows that face well. Brows drawn tight and mouth pursed in thought.

“Emmie mentioned wanting to go camping.”

It was a bit unfair to mention your youngest daughter, Emerson. The frown lines on your face softened a bit, followed by a resigned sigh. There was little that made you like that - malleable. He knows you would never say it out loud but only the girls could do that.

I’ll have to talk with Maverick about it. He may need us.

Then it was his turn to frown. The growing dissolution bubbled under, and it all started with Pete Mitchell. But how does one turn his back on the only real family he has known. Bob cannot say he knows Regina and Don, - the people he should think to be parents; instead, thinks he was made in Mav’s image. Just like every other agent that has come through Top Gun. Your loyalty to Mav in admirable as it is a thorn in Bob’s side.

He likes to say there is three in your relationship if he could even call it that.

But he takes what he can get from you. A knowing smile when Aria says something completely out of left field. A kiss where you don’t flinch away or tense up.

It all works together in the oxymoron that is his marriage with you. Husband and wife. Partners in crime. He loathes you as much as he couldn’t imagine doing this without you. He endlessly pines for a woman he has two children with.

Nothing has ever been easy for the two of you, and he supposes he would not have it any other way.

———

“I don’t know your real name.”

The general statement made you pause as your looked away from the fireplace in front of you. Bob was sitting on the bed, the green reindeer slippers the girls gave him matched his pullover. While him and girls seem to thrive in the cold, you hated it. You liked the uncomfortableness that came with humidity and heat. You were used to beads of sweat above the brow and clothes sticking to you back. Uneasiness was your default setting.

A snow-covered cabin is beautiful in theory, tortuous in practice.

“What,” you muttered, gaze going back to the fire. The flames danced against the brick surrounding it. The name thing was an issue he pressed. For reasons you still don’t get.

“I don’t know your real name,” he repeats. “And you don’t know mine. You don’t know anything about me before we…”

He trails off contemplatively. You shrug softly. “I think Robert suits you fine. Perfectly, even.”

There was a beat of silence. You wanted to tell him it was better this way. Life has been separated into two different parts: BB and AB. Before Bob and After Bob. It was no use focusing on what happened before then. You hope he drops the conversation, but Bob has never been one to let things go. A dog with a bone.

“Do you know why I suggested coming here?”

“You enjoy watching me freeze,” it was a joke but there is little mirth in the room.

“I grew up in a little blue cabin, sort of like this one -,”

“Bob”

“In a small town in Illinois.”

“Bob,” you hate him for this… or at least you want to hate him for this. Hate him for trying so damn hard.

“Every winter, I remember sheets of snow on ground and - and my ma-,”

“Robert,” your voice echoes a bit off the room. You fully turn to him, wishing to have bit of venom in your voice but it comes out broken. “What do you want from this? From me?”

“Why does it have to be something? Why can’t I just want you, all of you?”

Penny warned you about this. She’s taught you everything you know. And for better or worse, it has led you done a straight and narrow path.

Even in our business, people grow… attached. It will be up to you to either let them in or close it before it gets to be too much.

You wouldn’t call yourself frigid, but you are sure others would. It never bothered you really. Not as you grew older. There was a weakness in others that you simply did not have. The coldness was an easy barrier that deterred most, if not everyone you came across.

“You have me,” your fingernail scrapes across the wool blanket wrapped around you. “I am right here, aren’t I?”

Cobalt eyes mute with sadness.

“That isn’t what I meant.”

You grow more exasperated. “And you think me telling you about my past life will do that?”

“No, but I think you being honest would. Honest about how you feel about me, about the girls, would.”

Does he want you to write on a piece of paper if he loves you and make him check yes or no like you’re in the fifth grade. There was something so innocent about the look he gave you. The stunted nature of how the two of you work around each other may be less of your faults and more of the world that failed the both of you. You look at Bob now and he doesn’t seem like the man you have seen dodging bullets or choking out men twice his size. He seems so utterly human. And despite yourself, all you can think about is how much Maverick would hate it. The spurred want others to think the same.

You do love the girls, frankly more that you would like to admit. Two little knives to which people can twist. And Robert…

People get hurt, killed, when feelings are involved.

let them in or close it.

“I am tired,” you mutter. “I really don’t feel like rehashing the past. Certainly not with you.”

It is the end of the discussion, and you try not to flinch when the door closes behind him. The silence had become a gentle friend of yours. A safe companion to embrace. You wait for him to come back, thinking he must be letting off some steam outside in the cold. But 30 minutes turns into an hour and you start to think he may have crashed in one of the other rooms in the cabin.

After numbingly sitting at the fireplace, the only thing you can think to do is get ready for bed. You crave a bottle of wine but agreed to a painfully dry Christmas.

Your fingers don’t go towards the drawers where you unpacked the plethora of long Johns and sweaters you brought; they go to Bob’s instead. You know he’d probably laugh at you if he could see it, and you’d deserve it. Can’t even admit your feelings but want to sleep in one his shirts. While digging for an old Led Zeppelin shirt. Your digging is thwarted when your hand grazes across a chest inside the drawer. Biting your lip, you look towards the door. Bad things come in threes. He’s already upset you; you’re digging in his stuff… might at well get your third strike.

A familiar sinking feeling muddled in your stomach as you lift the chest to see tinier ring box in it, along with a mini snow globe. You both promised no presents this year for Christmas, but of course he wouldn’t stick to that. Your gaze goes to the simple ring on your left hand. It wasn’t something either of you picked out. It was left in the envelope you received.

“You should be happy you even get one off the bat,” Natasha sighed. “Jake gave me a ring pop as joke before Mav stepped in.”

You don’t have it in you to open the ring box, a bile stuck in your throat. But you do pick up the mini snow globe. It is like nothing you have seen before; it looks homemade. Inside a little blue cabin with sparkles dusted around it. On the bottom, tiny writing painted on. Chicken scratch that could only come from kids.

To the best wife and mommy in the world. May all your Christmases be merry and bright.

You set the snow globe back in the chest hastily, as if you have been burned.

God you’re fucked.

[cheeeeseburger]

Dream girl Part 4

Next part

Sidney Crosby x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I had something else completely written for this part but somehow I lost it so anyway here's part 4! English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes, enjoy!

“Yeah dude, some fucking pipe broke and now there’s water all over our goddamn new condo.” Like usual, Sid was busy listening to your boyfriend’s convo, trying to gather some info on you. Apparently, something broke in the brand-new condo that you and your boyfriend just bought together. Sidney knew all about it. After your almost-kiss, he though his heart had suffered enough for the week until he saw that fucking post on your Instagram. You were holding the key, and he was holding you, and Sidney just wanted to disappear forever.

Anyway. That must be why you didn’t attend a single game this week. Must have been too busy. Sidney was relieved. So you weren’t avoiding him. You still hadn’t replied to his texts saying he was sorry for almost kissing you, but at least you were not actively trying to escape him. His heart warmed a little in his chest.

“Oh man, that sucks. You haven’t even lived a month in it!” Another young defenseman chimed in. The story was getting real interesting now.

“Yet they still expect a payment every week. What a bunch of assholes. And they won’t fix it until another month! I mean, do they expect me and my girlfriend to live in a hotel for another fucking month?” For once, he could sympathize with the rookie. Yeah, it must suck to live in a hotel. He especially thought about you. You had to hate it. He had to do something about it.e H

Sometimes, love makes you stupid. It was one of these occasions. Sidney would ask you to move in with him. Temporarily, of course. With the boyfriend included.

It had got to be his worst idea yet. But it seemed he couldn’t keep the words from spilling out: “I have a basement you guys could use.”

So nice. So helpful. So generous. Yet so selfish. Sidney Crosby, what a nice guy, eh?

Of course, your boyfriend agreed on the spot, not bothering to check beforehand with you. He didn’t understand why you were freaking out, and it had to stay that way.

Two days later, you were knocking on the captain’s door, suitcase in hand. How could this go wrong?

At first, Sidney thought he could manage. It wasn’t like you were always there. Most of the time, you were hiding from him anyway. He wanted to talk to you about the moment you almost had right there in his kitchen, but it was hard with the rookie always being there.

Honestly, the first week went well. Sure, he found a thong in his batch of laundry and the image of you wearing it drove him mad, but everything was going well.

Until he heard it. That first moan, the first clue that you were arching your back for someone that wasn’t him. Sidney felt his heart sink in his stomach. He wanted to turn on the TV to forget the angelic noise, but he heard it again. This time, it was louder, needier. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t move.

Against his will, Sidney’s hand made its way underneath his pants. The effect you had on him was crazy. Your voice only got louder, echoing through the walls of his home. He began to stroke himself.

Faintly, he could hear the noises your boyfriend made, but he decided to ignore them. Pretending to be the one making you moan was simply too good. It sounded like you were matching Sid’s tempo better than his anyway. When your screams began to be louder and more frequent, he picked up the pace. He just knew that you were getting close, and so was he, but he wanted his girl to finish first.

His girl. That lie almost made him come on the spot. He threw his head back and imagined you were doing the same. He wished you were riding his thigh.

Suddenly, the bed in his basement stopped creaking. Your boyfriend thanked everyone but you for existing as he finished. He was done and apparently, for him, it meant that you were done too. Sidney called bullshit on that immediately.

There was no way you were feeling satisfied after that. You and Sidney were on the same pace, and he was nowhere near finished. Sure, a few minutes ago you seemed closed, but the fucking rookie was selfish. So selfish that he had to ruin the pleasure of two people that night.

Sid was so pissed for you. You deserved that orgasm. If you were his girl, he would’ve made you come twice already, with a third time coming soon. He would let you rest awhile only to rock your world harder a few moments later. Every single night.

Of course, Sidney was frustrated for himself too. He had no choice but to take a shower, because there was no way he would be able to sleep without getting some kind of satisfaction. The warmth of your mouth would be better, but the palm of his hand and the hot water would have to do for the night.

It didn’t take long for him to get right back on track. Now that he didn’t have your moans as background music, he thought of all the way he would make you come.

For the first time, of course, it would have to be sweet. After all, he was gentleman. He would worship you and tell you the million reasons why you were his dream girl. Only when you would be convinced that you’re an angel would he let himself think about finishing.

 He would have to eat you out next. His age was his biggest asset in that department. Guys his age knew how to take care of their girls. No way the rookie had ever used his tongue on you. Fucking idiot.

If he felt especially riled up one night, he would have to have you against a wall. He wanted to see the pictures trembling and the frames falling on the floor.

His next thought had him steadying himself on the wall. He wanted to have you somewhere he was sure your boyfriend would hear. Sidney had to let him know that only him could make you satisfied. After all, you were his dream girl.

That was all it took. He hoped the sound of the water would hide his grunts as he released all that frustration inside of him.

Yeah, he did feel guilty as he stepped out of the shower. I mean, he had just jacked off to the thought of you. But it wasn’t like it was the first time, nor would it be the last. Actually, he only felt guilty because he knew you weren’t feeling satisfied like he was right now. Sidney would have to change that soon.

[lamialamia]

We have a problem: cheating, humanizing your characters, and delivering your message

This meta is going to talk about Crosby's cheating in episode 7 and 8 of MOTA and how the show's lack of acknowledgement for it ultimately weakened its message on the effect of war.

So. I have talked about how Sandra's abrupt change of heart regarding her principles in her relationship with Crosby disrespects her character in this post. Now, I'm going to talk about the cheating plot point again from another angle: MOTA wants us to see how war is capable of changing people for the worse, but it will not engage with this message any further than the surface level.

When Crosby decided to cheat on his wife with Sandra, it happened within episode 7 and ended in episode 8. You can see him looking at other women in episode 6 and then spend a day hanging out with Sandra and is impressed with her as well as sending her longing look, he also shares a moment of vulnerability with her by talking about Bubbles. This is a legit basis (I'm only going to talk about Crosby in this analysis) for him to cheat with Sandra.

However, after the affair ended, the show never mentions it again. Crosby never says a single thing about it, his friends and colleagues never says a single thing about it, the story never says a single thing about it. Does Crosby feel good or bad about his action? Does he has remorse? Does he feel he is justified for an extra-marital affair? Does he think he's more of a man now that he has done it? Does he regret not courting Sandra further and making her his wife?

Not a thing.

(and that's it 🙃)

The problem with this is not about the cheating itself, but about how the narrative ignores Crosby's humanity. As war changed him, we see in the conversation he had with Rosie in ep 9 that he has doubt and struggles with his role in such large-scale destruction. The show is showing me how a man like him is capable of violence and contributes to human suffering in a big grand level. However, when it decides to never mention any kind of impact on Crosby, his friends, or the overall narrative that stemmed from his cheating -- a small-scale everyday cruelty -- the show weakens his character. Not because he cheated on his wife, but because it tries to say we should ignore his small cruelty in favor of his big one. Effectively, MOTA tells me its characters are above judgement for small cruel thing. That is inherently dehumanizing.

Let's make a comparison. Meet Brad Colbert in Generation Kill.

He's a Marine who is on his way to invade Iraq and pretty much a weapon of war. Other than that, he enjoys riding his bike, surfing, hates country music, and he was cheated on by his ex-fiancee and his best friend.

Here we can easily see that Colbert is pained by this experience. It affects him so much he stopped dating altogether and only have sex with sex workers.

Despite his prowess to kill a lot of people, despite the fact that he is part of the military complex of the USA that is committing atrocities, this man is still vulnerable human being. He is still a man who can get hurt from the betrayal of those he trusted. And by showing this vulnerable side of Brad Colbert, GK effectively made its case: the banality of evil - The person who enact evil is as human as you and me. And Evil can be enact by any average human.

This is because anyone and everyone can commit both the everyday-cruelty AND the grand-scale atrocity.

But unlike GK who reflect on this duality, MOTA only spent screentime to reflect on the grand-scale atrocity. It spent time to share Crosby's regret and guilt in being part of the war effort that kill many people, civilians and military personnel alike. It spent time to have John Egan faced down en entire street of angry civilians to make that point.

However, if you do not acknowledge that your character can commit the every-day cruelty, and show how only his grand-scale atrocity matters, then your character only have half his humanity to lose. You dehumanize him. And now, your message of how war affect the humanity in an average citizen is only half as effective.

[bandagesandloveletters]

Wildflowers and Chides

Hello everyone! Welcome to my HBO War Summer Exchange gift for @floralcyanide. I hope you like both this little writing piece and the mood board to accompany it. I thoroughly enjoyed creating this, and of course, being able to write for Harry was a delight. As always, it was great taking part in @hbowardaily 's event, so, without further ado, here's Wildflowers and Chides!

Pairings: Harry Crosby x Reader

Word count: 862 words

10th June 1944

Wid flowers swirled in the warm summer air. A contrast to the months of ground frost, chilling winds, and cloaks of mist that blanketed over Station 139. Weather that broke even the toughest of airmen and women on base. Weather that was often joked about before their feet found Anglia for the first time. It was almost like England became a whole new quaint paradise as Spring ended and Summer finally began to break. A quaintness only to be disturbed by the roaring Pratt and Whitney’s of the heavy bombers who braced the blue skies for a greater good. 

Goosebumps radiated from the young girl's arms as another soft gust blew her (Y/H/C) around her face, creating an almost angelic effect. Her (Y/E/C) gazed out over the spread of colour, thoughts of those who had been lost in the months previous weighing heavy upon her mind, a burning hope that they would all return to Thorpe Abbotts one day like nothing had truly happened. However, (Y/N) knew that nothing would truly be the same. 

The peace and quiet was a concept that had seemed so foreign only a week prior. Hustle and bustle had become the norm for those who both knew what they were preparing for and those who had no idea of the history in the making. For weeks, (Y/N) rolled bandages, restocked supplies, and ensured those who graced the infirmary were comfortable. The number of casualties was slowly starting to decline, a relief to the medical staff, but as the Invasion of Mainland Europe approached, a stifling expectation for multiple casualties left the (Y/H/C) on edge as the 6th became the 7th; it was apparent that Operation Overlord was a success and (Y/N) could finally breathe. 

Summer. It was a bittersweet thought, especially regarding memories of home. Long, hot summers spent in sundresses, sipping on iced teas seemed like distant ones. Home alone was a distant thought, but with the allies now in Europe, it was like an end was finally in sight. 

“I thought I’d find you here.”

A soft, raspy voice quickly broke the young nurse from her daydream, returning her to the field in England, far from home, in her standard nurse uniform, not a sundress. 

“Ah, you join the land of the living again, I see, Croz,” she replied as she tilted her gaze up to meet the taller male, nodding as he motioned to the spot beside her. “You and I both know Smokie warned you about taking more of those pills than needed. Rest is just as important as all those maps you plotted.” 

Her chide was serious but, at the same time, held an air of lightness. She knew that Harry was dedicated to his work, driven by the loss of his friends, but that didn’t stop her from worrying about the brunette navigator's welfare. Especially once she found out he’d been taking medication to stay awake. 

Lightly nudging her with his signature lopsided grin, Harry couldn’t help but take in the true beauty of the girl sitting beside him. Framed with wildflowers and a worry for him. He’d spent the whole morning listening to Rosie prattle on what he missed, and sure, he was disappointed to have missed the big day, but what he’d also truly missed were moments like these. A moment to reflect and soak up being with the people who bring the most joy. 

“Ahh, alright, alright. I should’ve listened, but we both knew I needed to get those maps done. Besides, if I hadn't been out so long, I wouldn’t have been able to dream long and hard about this moment, would I?” The male quickly cursed under his breath; it had sounded so much smoother in his head. Quickly leaning forward, Harry plucked a Marguerite from the ground before offering it to (Y/N) with a shy smile. 

A blush began to form on the girl's cheeks as she received the sweet-smelling wildflower. An angelic laugh fell on her lips as she leaned across to gently kiss Harry’s cheek. 

“You argue a good point. I just worry about you, Harry. How can I explain to my Ma in my next letter that my favourite navigator missed the biggest assault in history? Not to mention that it doesn’t make a great story to tell at our wedding, but I guess I’ll leave that for Rosie to write into his best man speech.” she teased back, grinning as her hand smoothly found his as it perched beside her own, the maroon gemstone of her engagement ring glinting in the sunlight.  

Laying back amongst the wildflowers, Harry pulled (Y/N) to lay with him. Tucking her perfectly into his side, like matching puzzle pieces. His own laugh echoed, bringing butterflies to (Y/N) and intensifying her blush with a chaste kiss pressed first to her forehead and then her lips. 

“I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant I’d end up here with you.”

[jackhues]

🦋sidney crosby🦋

midnight rain - taylor swift

also, i promise i don't hate new york, this just fit 😭 also i rlly like this! and there are time jumps between each block of lyrics!

don't forget to like and reblog!

my town was a wasteland full of cages, full of fences pageant queens and big pretenders but for some, it was paradise

born and raised in new york, you thought you knew how to navigate the entire world.

it was the 'concrete jungle', it was a place where people went to find themselves, it was a place where they went if they wanted to be someone.

you knew so many "actors" or "singers". people from your elementary school who were convinced they were going to get their big break eventually.

you saw the cages, the fences -- you saw the grip the city had on everyone. if they became famous, they revolved their entire life around it. once someone entered the city, they rarely left.

of course, those people saw the city as paradise.

my boy was a montage a slow-motion, love potion jumping off things in the ocean

sidney was everything those caught in the grasp of your city weren't.

he was a small town canadian boy. he played hockey because it was fun, because it was what he loved. but he never cared for the fame it brought him.

he was a boy with a bright smile and no worries. he was a breath of fresh air from the city that tried to drown you.

"c'mon, follow me," he said one day, taking your hand.

you were returning from a dinner date, and instead of going home, he decided to take you somewhere else.

you followed him through the alleys and roads, surprised at how well he knew your city.

"just a little further," he promised, helping you up a fire escape.

the two of you climbed all the way to the top, freezing at the sight. there weren't many stars in new york, but the lights of the skyscrapers from this height were just as pretty.

"it's beautiful," you realized. for the first time... your city looked beautiful to you.

"it really is," he agreed.

you didn't have to look to know he was staring at you and not the lights.

in the city that threw you to the darkness, sidney still managed to help you find the light.

i broke his heart 'cause he was nice he was sunshine, I was midnight rain he wanted it comfortable i wanted that pain

"so that's it?" sidney asked. "you're just -- you're just tired of us? after six years?"

"it was fun while it lasted," you shrugged. "but i'm over it."

"okay," sidney muttered to himself after a pause. he stared at the wall behind you, "well, i hope you find whatever it is you're looking for one day."

you waited until sidney packed up everything and left, locking the door behind him. you took a shaky breath, not allowing yourself to feel anything more.

you weren't allowed to cry, you weren't allowed to watch him from your balcony.

you were the one who broke his heart.

he was too nice for you, you reminded yourself. six years of spending all this time with you, all this time in this city, and he was still as bright as the sun.

you didn't get it. you had no idea how this city had no effect on him.

sidney stayed because he wanted a life with you, he saw a life with you. but you were from this cursed city.

you knew nothing but how to hurt him.

he wanted a bride i was making my own name chasing that fame he stayed the same all of me changed like midnight

you found the ring years later, in a box, in a corner of your bedroom.

sidney had wanted to propose for years, but you held him off. telling him you wanted to do something for yourself before you became a wife.

he agreed, because he believed you.

and when he left, he left nothing behind... except the ring he never used. you didn't know if it was on purpose, if he wouldn't have been able to keep that ring himself because it'd remind him of you. or maybe he just forgot it.

you shook off the thoughts of the ring, tucking it back away in it's little corner. making your way to the living room, you flipped through the channels on t.v.

but it seemed like the world was working against your plans of trying to dispel all thoughts of sidney, because the first thing you saw was sidney doing an interview.

unable to help yourself, you watched the interview.

he had the same smile, the same laugh. he even held himself the same way as he did all those years ago in interviews. only answering the questions and giving nothing more away.

all those years passed, and nothing had changed about him.

but you. every part of you had changed.

even sidney, the one part you thought was going to stay, wasn't there anymore.

---

send in a 🦋 and a player/driver, and i'll write a song blurb

[butterflyintochains]

The Pittsburgh Gambit

Fed up of the lack of good coaching and bad management, one of the 32 best hockey teams in the world band together, and go for the nuclear option. Something they didn't exactly want to do, but they're left with no other choice. With each other's support, and the backing of Mario, the league, and the PA. The Penguins pull the trigger, and decide to force management's hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is nothing short of a complete and utter clusterfuck. It should not have had to come to this. Truth be told, this shouldn't even be happening at all. But, it is happening, and they need to do this for their own good before anything else. They deserve better, their city deserves better, and their fans deserve better. So, fuck it, they're doing this, and they're doing this now. The morning after that 7-1 tragedy of a loss to Dallas, the core call a family meeting at Cranberry, without coaching staff or management allowed in. It's half past eight when Sid checks his watch, he's hedging his bets that no one slept much last night. He and Geno certainly didn't. Kris probably didn't either, and if Kris didn't, neither did Erik. Not that anyone would know it. Everyone takes their seats, the trio and Erik at the front of the room. Erik might not wear a letter, but nobody is going to tell Kris that, not today. ''Alright, boys, we all know why we're here, we need change, and need it now.'' Sid says, playing with his wedding ring.

Rusty looks to Sid, and asks. ''What's the plan? We follow you four.''

Kris bluntly says, pulling up a blank word document. ''We're all going on strike. So, until things change, no hockey, no training, nothing. I've been in talks with the PA about this for a couple of weeks, and they'll support us.''

Jack looks stunned, not quite what Kris and Erik wanted for his first real season, but, this is for him. ''We're striking? All of us?''

Erik nods, tying his hair up out of his face. ''All of us in this room, skatten mitt, until further notice, we're all striking. Kyle is failing us, Sully is failing us. So, we're hitting them where it hurts.''

Drew points out, his sunny self dimmed lately. ''What about the season? We're hosting Detroit tomorrow, right?'' Geno speaks up this time, the four of them speaking with one voice. ''It won't make a difference, luchik, we're already tied for last, what's a strike gonna harm?''

Sid says, stamping his place as captain right away, even if Kris is handling their little manifesto. ''Are we good to go on this? We're gonna need all of us in on this for it to work.'' Everyone nods emphatically, and Sid says. ''Kris, get typing.'' Kris puts the document on the big screen, and types up the introduction to their strike notice while everyone talks. This is the wildest thing he's ever done, including eloping to Sweden with Erik.

Fenway Sports Group, Kyle Dubas, and Coaching Staff. Exercising our rights as workers to collective bargaining and unionization, and led by Captain Sidney Crosby, Alternates Evgeni Malkin and Kris Letang, and Norris Winner Erik Karlsson. We, the Pittsburgh Penguins team, are officially going on strike effective today November 12th of 2024. As most would know, this season is quickly deteriorating, and we have missed two consecutive playoffs, and look set to miss a third. We would like it to be known that very little, if nothing at all, is being done to course correct this downward spiral. This is not a decision we have taken lightly, but this course of action appears to be our only choice. We sincerely apologize to our ever-loyal fans for letting them down the last couple of seasons, and assure them that this is not the end of our season. If our terms are met, we should be back on the ice in black and gold for them sooner than later.

Kris looks up from typing, and addresses the group. ''Right, here's our preamble, how does it look?''

Marcus reads it over, and nods. ''It's perfect, what next?'' Erik says, looking over his husband's shoulder. ''Our terms as a union. So, what are we after?''

Beauvillier mentions better management who will take action when it's needed, and be accountable to the team. Tristan mentions better coaches, the trio share a pensive look, they've served under Sully for a decade, but eras end, so it's added to the manifesto. ''Alright, looks good, boys, anything else?'' Sid asks, taking a look at things on the big screen.

Ricky says. ''Better press, I'm sick of the media people around us, except for Taylor and Michelle... they can stay.'' Everyone claps for him for saying this out loud. They've been sick of media for about a season now. Kris adds it to the document. ''Right: management, coaching, media, anything else?'' Kris asks.

Rusty proposes. ''I'd like In The Room back, so our fans can see us as people again.''

Kris nods, and adds it to the document. ''Alright, is that all?'' Nobody speaks up to add anything, so the terms are finalized.

Our terms for return to play are as follows: A change of management to a front office with our best interests at heart, and who will take accountability for mis-steps, and correct them accordingly. A complete change of coaching staff from the ground up, as much as we respect decade-long head coach Mike Sullivan, it's time for a new set of eyes. Greater checks and balances on what our media circle are allowed to ask our players, to protect their mental health and truth in reporting. And, finally, a return of In The Room so as to link us back to our fans the way we used to be.

Kris next drafts the outro to the manifesto, knowing once this gets posted online, everything changes.

Until our terms are met, there will be no hockey or training from our team members. This is not a choice we came to lightly, but it must be done to restore this team to the glory it once had. We feel supported in this by the NHLPA and by the wider NHL itself, as well as the perpetual support of our city and Mario Lemieux, and confident to move ahead with our labour strike. Best regards, The Pittsburgh Penguins Team.

Finally, the manifesto is done, and just needs somewhere to be posted. Drew proposes creating an instagram account for the team as a union, and Kris sets it up under Sid's email address. It's only right that it be linked back to the captain. Jack helps get the manifesto ready to post. ''Alright, are we ready to get going on this?'' Sid asks. Everyone cheers. ''Great, Kris, pull the trigger.'' Kris hits 'post' and adds the caption. ''An address to everyone.''

Geno checks his watch, and says. ''Right, as of now, we're on strike. Everyone, out.'' The whole team exit the training arena, acutely aware that they've just lit a fire in the organisation. Once back at their cars, Erik asks. ''Did we do the right thing?''

Sid says, fiddling with his watch. ''We did the only thing, Karl. Hopefully, it works.''

They all head home, it's weird, they should be training in two hours' time, but they're heading home instead. Kris leads Erik and Jack inside out of the cold, Buddha and Freya asleep by the fireplace, Penny nestled between them. Rusty and Drew will have no doubt gone over to Sid and Geno's place. ''So... that was... intense.'' Jack says.

Kris grabs a protein shake. ''Intense and necessary, mon dauphin, this will help you well into the future.''

Jack asks them, looking to his surrogate fathers for guidance. ''What happens now?''

Erik says, crashing into an armchair, leaning his head back. ''We do whatever we want, except for hockey.'' Which is even weirder, hockey players during the season who aren't allowed to play, they're all healthy, but there's something bigger to fight for now. And, they're in this fight together, as they always have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, the strike is wildly popular with the fans and the rest of the hockey world, even the foreign leagues are backing them up, as well as the IIHF. Even the Capitals and Flyers are supporting them in this, which is nothing short of a miracle. No action has been taken on their list of terms yet, but one party will need to relent at some point. However, one is worried about their bottom line, the other is a group of pissed off and stubborn hockey players. Even Jagr out east in Europe has called them all to congratulate them on this. Kris' office is the base of operations for now, he's the only one with a link to the PA. Erik comes in with some tea for his husband, and asks him. ''Who's emailing you now, hjartat?'' Kris takes his mug in his stiff hands. ''Tyler Myers from Vancouver, amour. Said the Canucks are wishing us well in this. Fourth team rep this morning.'' A notification pings on his laptop, Kris rolls his eyes. ''Make that a fifth.''

Erik smiles, and says. ''You go downstairs and chill, I'll handle this.'' Kris furrows his brows, and asks. ''Are you sure, amour?''

Erik nods, and says. ''We're in this strike together, right?'' Kris stands from his seat, and pops his back, kissing Erik's lips. ''Best husband ever.''

Erik takes his seat, and says. ''Right back at you, sweetheart.'' Kris goes downstairs, where Jack is playing chess with Drew, little Penny tucked up in his lap. The black kitten is the apple of his eye. ''You winning, Ivy?''

Jack says, concentrated on the board. ''Dunno yet.''

Kris reads while the boys carry on their game, Erik gets down not too long later. Finally done with the business end of the day, hopefully. Sometime into the afternoon, after lunch, a knock comes at the door. Erik goes to answer it, a courier with a long package for them. ''For Mr Letang and Mr Karlsson.''

Erik takes it in one arm. ''Thank you.'' He says, closing the door again, he sets the package on the dining table, and opens it. The contents set his blood on fire. A bottle of his and Kris' favourite wine, with a note.

From your friend, Kyle.

Friend? Since when? Erik calls his husband into the dining room. ''Kris, come here, please?'' Kris comes to join him, scandalized at what he sees, he reads the note, and balls it up. ''That fucking snake.'' They got three days into the strike, and now the love bombing begins. ''How did he even... Jason, of course.'' Erik says, uncorking the bottle, and dumping the red liquid down the sink. The bottle is thrown away, the cork is washed, and given to little Penny to play with. The note is tossed into the fireplace, Kris calls Sid. ''Sid, have you and Geno gotten a bottle of whiskey and vodka today?''

Sid sounds confused, but says. ''Yeah, just now, one of each, why?'' Kris says. ''Dump them both down the sink, they're from Kyle. He sent us a bottle of wine. Jason told him our favourite.''

Sid sighs, and says. ''Thought he'd try this.'' He must set his phone down, because Kris hears the cracking of bottle lids, and liquid being poured down their kitchen sink. ''Okay, I've done it.''

Erik says. ''Get onto the rest, if he's done the same, they'll need to do as we've done.''

Sid affirms to his brother and brother-in-law. ''Will do, see you both tomorrow. Love you both, and Jack too.'' Kris almost forgot about dinner at the Crosby-Malkin household tomorrow evening. Kris says, swallowing heavily. ''We love you too, give Geno a hug for us. Godspeed, brother.''

Jack asks, looking up from his phone. ''We're gonna win this fight, right?''

Erik assures him, the future of the d-corps shouldn't need to ask these questions, but, here they are. ''We've got each other, of course we'll win.'' That's the crux of this, a family who love each other are fighting against an organisation. This always goes well in the movies, doesn't it? Kris takes Penny into his hands, she's getting a bit bigger now, but she still fits for now. ''We'll be just fine, they'll cave eventually.'' Kris tries to sound certain of things, tries to sound confident in this strike working, but they have no fucking idea how this is going to go. No individual team has done this before, they're effectively on uncharted territory right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some of the team are gathered the following evening at Sid and Geno's place for dinner. This is also serving as a sort of progress meeting. Mario has relayed to them that Fenway are breathing down Kyle's neck to step down, but he's not moving. That sick part of Sid's mind pictures Kyle barricading himself in his office, and refusing to come out. He's sure Kris has had the same thought. During dinner, which has had to be spread around the dining room and living room to accommodate everyone, Rusty's phone rings. He puts it on speaker, and answers it, looking around the room at his family. ''Bryan Rust, who am I speaking to?''

Elliotte Friedman says. ''Hey, Bryan, it's Friedman, I was wondering if you'd be up for an interview about the team's recent labour strike?'' That's one of their terms, no media until this is resolved. ''Sorry, Friedman, I'm not doing media until our terms are met.''

Friedman pushes, as all media people do, because they only exist as long as the players do. ''I'm sure you could waive that, Bryan.''

Sid speaks up, putting on his best captain voice. ''He said no interview, leave us be.'' Rusty hangs up, let him have that at least. They get back on with dinner, determined not to let the call spoil the good mood. It's weird, how free they all feel while on this strike, they're not working, and have their days to themselves. These team dinners wouldn't be happening otherwise. ''Anyone had any texts from them yet?'' Erik asks.

Beauvillier says. ''No, nothing on my end.'' Drew nods, putting his feet up on the coffee table. ''Me neither, it's like they know we're not going to negotiate.''

Marcus says. ''There's nothing to negotiate, is there? They know we've got them dead to rights, they know we're not moving. They can't trade all of us, can they?''

Kris nods, relaxing in an armchair, turning his wedding ring on his finger. ''I'm not going anywhere without my husband and brothers, bottom line. I played all those years without you, Erik, I'd not survive it a second time.''

Erik sits on the arm of Kris' chair, and takes his hand to kiss it gently. ''I'm not going anywhere away from you either, and if they get any ideas, I'll show them our wedding certificate.'' Sid says, looking lovingly at Geno. ''That's a good idea, Erik.''

Geno laughs, and kisses Sid's temple. ''Ours is in the bedroom, framed.''

Coming to a realization, the ball finally dropping about just what Kyle is up against with this strike, the four men who are the two great love stories in the league. Those two marriages, different, but equally strong, and the love for the team. ''Long live the Pittsburgh Power Couples, and the most dangerous quartet in this league.'' Ricky says.

Ned nods enthusiastically. ''Lead us to paradise, boys.''

While they're all chatting about what comes next in the coming days, Sid's phone rings. The room grows tense right away, dreading that call from Kyle or Mario, but Sid's glowing smile relaxes the room. He puts it to speaker. ''Good evening, superstar, how are you?'' It's Jake, thank God. Jake says, voice bright. ''Hi, guys! I'm good, Victor said he's proud of you guys. So am I, actually. How are you all doing? How's the strike working out?''

Geno says to their middle kid. ''We're doing just fine, lisichka. The strike is going well so far.''

Jake says. ''I couldn't believe it when I saw the statement, we were in a team meeting, and Shearsy said 'holy shit', and showed me his phone. It was such a shock.''

Kris says to his nephew. ''It was a shock to write, Jakey, but, it was necessary.''

Jake asks his family up north. ''Any progress on anything yet?'' Rusty says to his younger brother. ''Mario said Fenway are urging Kyle to step down and fire the coaching staff, but he's not budging. We've not been near the rinks in four days.''

Drew adds, informing his older brother. ''And, Rusty got asked for an interview this evening, we're on a media blackout too.'' Jake just laughs, probably wishing he could be part of this little thing with his family. ''Good for you! Victor and Kucherov can't stop talking about it right now.''

Erik asks, intrigued at what his best friend has been saying. ''What's Victor been saying, Jake?''

Jake says. ''He said he's really proud of you guys, and has been desperate to visit you all during this whole thing.'' He adds. ''Like, this is the first single team strike in history, and everyone is blown away.'' Sid says to Jake. ''Well, it's for the greater good, so it'll be worth it in the end.''

Jake says. ''I hope so, for all of your sakes. I'll let you guys go, love you guys!''

Geno says, smiling wide. ''We love you too, lisichka.'' Sid hangs up. Everyone heads home after that, further galvanized by the support they're receiving from the other teams. Something they never once expected to be given, and are eternally grateful for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of quiet days pass, six days of the strike, they've missed three games. No progress on their terms yet, but the team aren't backing off. No jerseys will be worn until things improve, no skates hit the ice, no sticks in hands. They're not open to negotiate, because there's nothing to negotiate. Management know what needs to be done, so it's on them to do it. Today, the core are meeting up at Mario's place. They're just done with lunch, and are chilling in the living room with coffee. The kids were going to come with them, but they decided on a movie day at Rusty's place. Sid takes a glance at his brother-in-law as they talk, Erik looks tired, like he barely slept last night. Erik rests his head on Kris' shoulder, and Kris runs his fingers through Erik's hair while talking with Geno. ''Are you okay, Erik?'' Mario asks, voicing his heir's concerns.

Erik nods, clearly enjoying his husband's attention. ''Yeah, took me ages to get to sleep last night, kept on having dreams about being split up from Kris.''

Geno says, voice tinged with compassion, he knows the pain those years caused Kris, those forced smiles for twelve years. He's had those anxieties himself, he'd never last a minute without Sid. ''I've had those dreams about me and Sid, they never get easier.''

Sid nods, taking Geno's hand in his. ''So have I, it's horrible, waking up in a cold sweat over something you know won't happen.'' He looks to Kris, and asks. ''What about you, Kris?''

Kris' eyes gloss over, he kisses Erik's head as though it's the Stanley Cup, it's not, Erik is more important. ''All the time, especially lately, with... everything we've set in motion. I just wake up, and see that Erik's next to me, and all is well again.''

Mario just sits back and listens to the boys, eminently aware that despite the greatness they've all reached, despite them all being well into their thirties, married, and surrogate parents for his grandkids. They're all still those boys from their draft years, nursing those same anxieties, and pack-bonded to each other in ways no one will ever understand. The two forwards who fell fast and hard for each other on the biggest stage possible. And, the two defencemen who had to nurture their own love in secret until so recently. They all deserve so much better than what they're getting, this strike has clearly been a long time in the making. It's then that Mario's phone rings. The quartet stop their conversation, and watch him leave the room to answer it. ''What are we thinking?'' Erik asks, suddenly alert despite the loving hand in his hair.

Sid swallows some coffee. ''I'd say, but I don't wanna jinx us.'' Geno asks, seeming expectant of the outcome they wanted. ''Do you think it's happening?''

Kris says, moving his hand to Erik's side. ''I guess we'll find out.'' There's a few minutes of silence, tense, hopeful, and desperate all at once somehow. ''Until death do us apart, Geno.'' Sid says, clearly expecting the worst.

Geno nods. ''For better or for worse, Sid.'' Sid leans over to kiss Geno's cheek.

Erik looks to Kris, and says. ''We are one when together, and we are one when parted, Kris.''

Kris leans his forehead against Erik's. ''We hold in our hands the making of this union, Erik.'' The wedding vows may seem a bit much, but they truly have no idea what this call is about. So, they retreat into them like a prayer. Mario comes back, a satisfied look on his face. ''Well, what's happening now?'' Sid asks.

Mario takes his seat again, and says. ''That was Fenway, there's a big announcement pending tomorrow, nothing to do with you four, or the others.''

The quartet share a look, they may have no idea what's coming, but whatever it is, it doesn't affect them. They should say this strike is working, that it's having the impact it was designed to have, but they have no idea of anything right now, and don't want to jinx anything yet. This is going to be a long evening, and an even longer night. These six days have been long and stressful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the team all gather at Sid and Geno's house for lunch, and to await the big announcement from the team owners. Mario didn't say anything to any of them about what to expect, indeed if he even was told himself. The strike has now lasted a week, it's been a week since they held that secret meeting and lit that fire across the league. Today very much feels like the calm before the storm, but Maverick and Penny don't know that, neither do Sam, Buddha, and Freya. The cats are being fussed over by Ned and Tristan, Penny is still attached to that wine cork Kris gave her. Kyle's last ditch effort to get the two defencemen back on side, now is the kitten's favourite toy. ''Ives, does Penny not have any other toys to play with?'' Tristan asks.

Jack sits down with them, and pets his cat behind the ear as she likes. ''Yeah, loads, but she loves that cork for some reason.''

Marcus asks. ''How did she even get it? Where did it come from?'' Erik sighs, putting his phone away, he says. ''Kyle sent us a bottle of our favourite wine on day three of the strike. A last effort to get us back on side, I dumped it down the sink, Kris washed the cork, and now it's Penny's.''

Matt says, laughing at the gesture. ''That's cold, turning an olive branch into a cat toy.''

Geno says, finding the channel the announcement will be on. ''He sent me some vodka and Sid some whiskey as well. Kris and Erik told us to dump them, and we did.''

The announcement comes on, that press conference room flashing up on the TV screen. The team share a look between themselves, here they go, the point of no return. The Fenway people take their seats, and announce the immediate departure of Kyle Dubas from the organisation, and Mario will be assuming management duties until summer. ''Dubas has made an impact on this team in his short tenure as General Manager and President of Hockey Operations. Including the signing of three time Norris winner - Erik Karlsson. But, we, and the players alike, wish to move forward without him.''

Erik cocks an eyebrow, eyes darkening. ''Fucking liar, he's not why I'm here, my husband is.'' Kris just chuckles, and leans over to kiss Erik's cheek.

Seems like the only front office people staying are Amanda and Jason, everyone is going in this except them. They also announce that Mario will be looking for new coaching staff, from the ground up. But, no further news other than that. The broadcast ends. There's a cautiously triumphant air in the room now, that's one of their three most important terms reached. Now, they can sort of relax while waiting for further news. ''Well, looks like we're winning anyway.'' Rusty says.

Sid nods, ruffling Sam's ears. ''Yeah, we are, for once.''

Erik vents, rapping his fingers against his coffee mug. ''Can't believe that snake took credit for me being here, I'd have signed with any GM here. I didn't come here for him, or Jason, or a cup. I came here for you, Kris.''

Kris tries to calm his husband down, easier said than done sometimes, but he's the only person able to most of the time. ''I know that, darling, everyone knows that. And, we're together now, forever. And, we're winning.''

Anthony asks, picking at his fingernails. ''What do we do next?'' Sid says, matter of fact as always. ''Our strike doesn't end until at least the first three of our terms are met. It's been a week now, it can't be much longer, Mario always has a plan.''

Kris adds, voice tinged with both satisfaction and a laugh from Erik's little rant. ''We're a third of the way there, we just need to wait a bit longer.''

Drew asks, having never played under any other coach. ''Who'll be our new coaches, then?''

Geno shrugs, they're in truly uncharted waters for the first time in over a decade now, new management, and soon-to-be completely new coaching staff. ''No idea, luchik, guess we'll find out soon.'' Jack asks, also curious about how all of this will be playing itself out over the coming days. ''What if Kyle goes to media before we're allowed to again? You've gotta know he'll be all too willing to play the victim. Play into being a well meaning GM overthrown by his players.''

Erik simply states, sounding very much like the Senator he once was, the serious captain rather than the domesticated husband he is now. ''He goes low, we go lower, skatten mitt.''

Noel asks, a cheeky glint in his eyes. ''Is that your way of saying 'fuck around and find out', Karl?''

Erik nods, and states. ''Pretty much, yeah.'' Kris says, linking their arms. ''I'd say we've left 'fuck around' now, and are in the 'find out' stage of proceedings.''

They probably shouldn't be as pleased with this as they are, Kyle did seem to have good intentions, and they all loved Sully in their own ways. But, something broke when Jake left, trading Lars was a Rubicon the team didn't need to cross. Missing those two playoffs by a couple of points because of more of the same every year. Sometimes, things need to change, sometimes reality needs to be reckoned with. Now, a new era can begin, hopefully sooner rather than later.

Everyone leaves not long after the announcement, but the core hang back for a bit to talk in private. Some conversations have to happen for their ears only. If this strike has yielded them anything, it's a deeper reliance on each other. ''Our new era begins, I guess.'' Geno says, Maverick on his lap, the grey cat purring contentedly. Sid nods, turning his wedding ring on his finger as he does when deep in thought. ''It does, feels good already.''

Erik gets done clipping Freya's leash onto her collar. ''Good to see we had the right idea, shame it came to this, but I'm glad we did this before the rot could set in further.''

Kris ruffles Buddha's ears, instantly feeling the stress lift between the four of them. ''Shame to lose Sully and the rest, but they'll be fine elsewhere. We wouldn't be, and they knew it. Kyle threatening us was out of line.''

Sitting forward a bit, Geno says, a wry smile on his face. ''I'm impressed at how dangerous we are when we work together, y'know? Wonder what this would've been like if Flower was still here?'' Sid laughs at his husband's question. ''Absolute chaos, honey, absolute chaos.''

Erik says, one of his regrets about not coming here sooner. ''I'd have loved to play with Flower, he always annoyed me in Ottawa and San Jose.''

Standing from the sofa, Kris kisses him on the temple. ''He'd have shown you every single way to annoy me there is, mon amour.'' Erik shrugs, rising to his feet himself. ''Doesn't mean I'd have used them, hjartat mitt.''

Kris and Erik get going to their car, and get home. Jack is at his apartment this week, so it'll be just them and the dogs. Erik goes over to their award shelves once they're indoors, and picks up the ties from in front of their wedding picture. Turning them in his hand gently. ''Erik?'' Kris asks, placing his hand on Erik's back. Erik assures him, placing the velvet ties down in their place. ''Just... happy, that's all, Kris.''

Kris takes his hands, and says. ''So am I.'' They kiss, finally free of the constant trade anxiety they've been living in. Now, all they need to do is win the rest of their terms. And, they're back on ice together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The team are left in a kind of holding pattern for a couple of days. The first - and most important - of their terms has been met, and Mario will be in charge until at least summer. But, there's still no news on coaching staff, so there will be no return to play until the second and third terms are met. The core are now gathered together at Kris and Erik's house, mostly just to talk about where they go from here. Sid, Geno, and Erik are getting lunch together while Kris is answering a barrage of emails in the dining room. He's in desperate need of a backup PA representative, but it's just him for now. He's just done with an email from Jason Zucker in Buffalo, and gets to the email from Logan Couture in San Jose. Two of seven he's had today alone. Finally, he gets done with everything, and can put the laptop away. ''God, that was a marathon.'' He says to the rest as they sit down to lunch.

Sid asks, digging into his pasta. ''What are the PA saying?'' Kris forks some of his lunch, and says. ''Congratulating us on the progress so far mostly, and telling us to keep holding on. Stuff we already know, but it's good to have in our back pocket.''

Geno muses to the rest. ''Wonder if Mario has our new coaches yet?'' Erik drinks some water, and says. ''Probably, you all said he moves quickly, so we're probably going to find out soon.''

As if on cue, heir phones ding as Erik says that. A notification from Mario himself in a mass text to the whole team. He's somehow convinced Alain Vigneault to come out of retirement as interim head coach. Paul Coffey - all of whose records Kris has broken in his nineteen years as a Penguin - will be both defence and powerplay coach. And, for the goalies, Jeff Zatkoff - who the trio played with for a while - will be taking over. ''Holy shit, that's a good coaching trio.'' Sid says.

Geno nods in agreement, finishing his lunch. ''Yeah, hope it all works out for us, when do we get back to work, then?''

Kris says, firing a text to Flower on their progress. ''Mario needs to issue a set of boundaries to the media too, then we go back to work. He'll probably do that tomorrow by the looks of it.''

Erik takes his hair down from it's bun, and sits back in his seat. ''Can't wait to get back in the saddle now, working with Coffey is gonna be interesting.''

Kris ponders out loud, he's not worked under a fellow French-Canadian since junior. ''Wonder how he convinced Vigneualt to come back.''

Texting someone, Sid says. ''Us, maybe? The idea of coaching the four of us got him back?'' They begin clearing the table, that sounds possible, and Sid is normally right about these things. Nine days of striking have been successful so far, and they'll probably be back on ice this side of the weekend. ''Is Kyle taking credit for you being here still annoying you, Erik?'' Geno asks.

Erik says, laughing a bit. ''Not really, we all know who got me here, let him have his delusions. He can think anything he wants, doesn't make it true.''

Sid noticed Kris' face turning slightly pink, his brother has always been bad at taking compliments or being fawned over, even now it's a struggle to get him to accept praise. ''Tanger, you good, brother?'' Kris clears his throat. ''Oh, yeah, just... my husband, y'know?''

Erik says, sitting himself down next to Kris on their sofa. ''I'm only speaking the truth, sweetheart. He can delude himself all he wants into thinking I'm here for him, you put this ring on my finger.''

Sid laughs, and says. ''It was him threatening Geno that did me in, like, who does he think he is to do that?'' Geno joins them on the couch, and says. ''Our boss, solnishko?''

Sid concedes that, but says. ''We was our boss, honey, and a shit one at that. I hated Hextall, but he wasn't nearly as bad.'' Kris nods, in full agreement with Sid. ''Oh, tell me about it, Hextall was an ass when he wanted to be, but I'd take that over stupid any day.''

Erik says, feeling that cloud of uncertainty lifting a slight, these last nine days have been stressing everyone out. ''I'm just glad we're making the progress we wanted.'' That much is universal now, the air does feel lighter now that things are progressing for them, and they will be back to work sooner rather than later. They don't have clue one as to how Mario will draw boundaries for the media scrums after games and training sessions, that's going to be easier said than done, but, they're two thirds the way back to work. And, their new coach has actually won the Jack Adams. So, there's something to boast about now at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, Mario had a plan for media scrums all along. He's getting rid of them entirely in favour of proper press conferences. This time, they're going to be taken in pairs for media, and will be allowed to veto any questions they don't want to answer. The new code of conduct for the press is issued via the team's website and social media. No news on Rusty's idea of bringing back In The Room, but all three of their bigger terms are met now. So, the strike is over after ten days. Kris issues another statement through the team's union instagram account.

To the city of Pittsburgh, and all Penguins fans. This past ten days have been dramatic both in public and in private. And, we apologize for any undue stress this strike has placed upon anybody. We would like to thank you all for bearing with us over the past ten days while we have worked for the greater good of the team and our fans - both in the city and elsewhere. You have all been so supportive and patient with us, and we could not be more thankful. We would like to thank Fenway Sports Group for listening to our terms, and acting in the best interests of our team and its legacy as champions. We would like to extend our thanks and condolences to Kyle Dubas, who worked as well as he was able to in his short tenure in charge of our team. We are human, and all of us make mistakes. We also give our love and thanks to outgoing head coach Mike Sullivan for his decade of service to our team, and those back-to-back cups. We wish him all the best in his future endeavors. We also welcome back aboard Mario Lemieux, who will lead us until summer in the front office. And, we welcome our new coaches: Jack Adams winner Alain Vigneault, and Penguins veterans Paul Coffey and Jeff Zatkoff. We cannot wait to get back in the saddle under their guidance. Tomorrow, we will be back at Cranberry, in our jerseys and skates, training for our return to play from this labour strike. The first of its kind in hockey history, and hopefully the last. We are eager to play again, and cannot wait to see our fans again, and be able to look them in the eye. Thank you all for your kindness, patience, and support over the last ten days. See you all very soon. Best regards, The Pittsburgh Penguins Team.

The statement is honest, earnest, and tactful. Kris was careful not to mince their words with it, they should not have been pushed to a ten day labour strike in the first place, but they were, and it somehow worked exactly as they wanted it to. And, today, a day after the statement went out, they all congregate at Cranberry again. For the first time in over a week, they're here for training purposes, and will be working even harder now than they ever have. They're all a little apprehensive to begin with, worried about getting in trouble for that stunt, but, all it takes is the core striding into the dressing room in lock step with each other, for the rest of the team to relax. Alain walks in for the first time, and gives a little briefing. ''Good morning, boys, I'm very excited to get started with you. Not the most conventional way to get new coaches in, I'll admit that, but I respect it. I want this to be a partnership, and for you all to be able to tell me what you need. So... shall we get going?''

Sid looks to his Alternates, Erik included, and gets the same look back. ''Let's do this.''

They take to the ice again, and get to working with the new coaching system. Jeff drilling both Tristan and Ned on the new tactics they'll be working through. Kris and Erik give Paul the rundown on everything Quinn and Todd before him were doing wrong, and they set about devising new battle strategy. Alain first talks with the forwards, getting the backstory on their recent form under Sully, then, gathers the whole team for a stand around at center ice. ''Right, looks like quite a bit of change is needed, and I promise you all we'll get this season back on track.'' They get on with some drills and a short three on three scrimmage before heading for lunch. During which, Mario tells the core that Sportsnet want them for an interview tomorrow. ''Guess we've got nowhere to hide now, do we?'' Erik asks.

Sid shakes his head, and says. ''Not anymore we don't, no, now that our strike is over.''

They approve the interview, and get back to eating. For the first time in weeks, feeling cautiously optimistic about where the team is going.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They arrive at PPG Paints the next morning for their sit down interview with Elliotte Friedman, they were briefed on questions last night, and allowed to veto some of them. Thankfully, there wasn't too much to negotiate around. They find the media room they're using, the arena all done up for their game tonight, their first back since the strike began twelve days ago. Friedman welcomes them in politely, and they sit down to their interview with him. It may seem a bit unfair, one person interviewing four, but, they move together or not at all. ''Good day, gents, twelve days ago you four set something historic. The first single-team labour strike in hockey history. How on earth did you manage to pull that off?''

Sid answers this one, shifting in his seat. ''We didn't really have much of a choice in the matter. If we were being better managed and better coached, these twelve days wouldn't have happened. But, we just came to the agreement, and pulled the trigger.''

Friedman asks them next about the statements. ''Who wrote your two statements that are on instagram?'' Kris looks a bit bashful, but happily admits. ''That was me, we brainstormed the first, but I wrote them both. The PA gave me advice on how to word it, I was going to translate it into French and Swedish, but there was no time.''

The timeline is still fuzzy for outsiders, so Friedman asks them. ''How long was the strike in the works for?''

Geno answers this one, best with timelines of the four. ''Since the 6-0 loss on game one to the Rangers, we were just holding out for things to improve.''

Erik adds, backing his brother-in-law up. ''We four spend a lot of time together, and the idea of a strike was floating around in the air for a while. Kris and I would visit Sid and Geno, or they'd visit us, and it'd be an idea we'd talk about a lot.''

Friedman addresses the two captains, who have Dubas contracts. ''Now; Sid, Erik - you signed your contracts with Dubas, was there no loyalty to him that you had to dodge?''

Chuckling and shaking his head, Sid says. ''No, I signed to stay with my family, not for him. I have a huge family here: these three, the boys, Ivy, and Tristan. They are why I'm still here.'' Nodding in agreement, Erik shows off his wedding ring. ''This is why I'm here, Elliotte, I came here for Kris, and found everything I've ever needed. I'd have signed that contract no matter who was in that office.''

The duo with Hextall contracts share a laugh, Geno says to Kris. ''We're so lucky, eh, Legend?''

Kris nods, squeezing Erik's hand. ''Yeah, we are, G.''

Friedman says, directing conversation back to the strike. ''There's so much talk these days about athletes as exploited workers, do you four hope this gives other athletes the courage to do the same?'' Kris nods, he of all people knows the damage this sport does. ''Yeah, we do. I mean, all four of us have given our bodies and health for the thing we love, as every hockey player does. So, we expect good coaching and accountable management in return.''

Sid says, picking up on that thread. ''Between my concussions, Geno's knees, Kris' strokes and heart defect, and Erik's various injuries. Sometimes things just get to be too much for too little reward.''

Friedman says, to conclude the interview. ''Three new coaches, a totally new era, are you guys looking forward to it all?'' Geno's face lights up, forever ready for the grind. ''Yeah, things look so much better already.''

Smiling to the rest, Erik says. ''We also promised to lead the team to paradise, and that's exactly what we intend to do ourselves. Without us, this whole thing falls apart.''

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They get back in for the game tonight, hosting Utah. Alain's units are the same, but the game-plan is completely different. He's encouraging the guys to be as aggressive as possible, and to just shoot first and ask questions later. Exactly as Dan had the trio doing back in the day. They get out for warmups, feeling like they're beginning the season completely anew. The first period is like the lights have come back on, Drew and Anthony netting amazing goals for 2-0 by first break. ''Good goals so far, boys, we're looking much better, very impressed already.'' Alain says.

They get back out for second period, Ricky netting a breakaway goal five minutes in assisted by Marcus. ''Good rush, boys!'' Paul commends them both. They're 3-0 up, and for once, it doesn't feel like they're in imminent danger of giving it up like they used to. If Kris didn't know any better, he'd think Flower came back with some of the saves Tristan has made tonight. ''Never knew how good Tristan was.'' Jeff says from behind the bench.

Kris remarks, his godson is so much like his brother. ''Flower chose him as his rookie for a reason.''

Clayton Keller gets a lucky bounce goal for 3-1 by second break. But, for the first time in years, they feel like they can keep this lead afloat rather than just try to limp to the end of the game.

The third period is all Pittsburgh hockey, the new brand of it, Erik and Kris get a shift together, and annoy the shit out of the old Coyotes. Kris wires a pass to Kevin Hayes, who puts it away for 4-1. ''Thanks, Tanger.''

Towards the end of the game, the third unit is out to close the game up in style. Kris and Erik watch Jack attentively, he's so good, directing traffic like Kris, and leading the charge like Erik. Anthony gives him a pass, and Jack makes it work to close the game out 5-1 for the reborn Penguins.

After press conferences for the goal scorers and the new coach, they all get ready to head home. Cautiously hopeful for this season to turn itself around now that they've gotten what they asked for in their strike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The games roll along after their back to back home wins against Utah and Vancouver. The most dramatic November of their lives finally comes to its end, and they're beginning to claw their way back up in the standings. Mario comes in after training one day to give Erik his new jersey, with an A on it. It was high time for it, really, with how much Erik helped organize everything for those eleven days. Erik tries on the new jersey before they go to lunch, the golden A on his chest. Kris buries his face in his hands, fighting the flush to his cheeks. The entire room bursts out laughing at him. ''You good, hjartat?'' Erik asks, cheeky as ever.

Kris gives a thumbs up, and says. ''I'm fine, amour.''

This will help the team massively down the mid and late season stretches. Having two leaders up front and two on the back end. Spreading the workload more evenly around the team. Rusty has also been made Kris' backup in the PA. To save Kris the added stress of having to do it all himself. For the first time in so long, things start to feel like they're going to be okay again. They'll probably never get those 2015 to 2018 glory days back, not before the end of this current era, but they can come close. Who knows? Maybe they might get that energy back at some point soon?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days after another big win, the usual group gather for breakfast at Sid and Geno's place. Drew and Tristan are gushing over their highlight goal and save from their last game, Rusty and Jack are talking about the goal they combined for as well. The four elder Penguins are just listening intently, their heirs are finally in trustworthy hands again. A sixth cup is a pipe dream at best this season, not that they're especially worried about that for now. They'll cross that bridge if they ever get there. But, the future four are actually excited to play hockey again, as are the current four, and that's all that really matters. ''Wonder what the rest of the year's gonna look like now.'' Rusty says.

Sid says. ''I think we're gonna be fine now, champion.'' That much they do need to carry with them from now on, things are better now, and the roster has come out relatively unscathed. Just missing Lars, but he's home in Washington now.

Jack asks, putting his dishes in the washer. ''You two said this strike was for me, what did you mean by that?'' Ah, so he does remember the chat the three of them had on day three.

Erik says, smiling. ''The four of us have to do everything we can, before a cup comes into the conversation, to set the four of you up for life after us, skatten mitt.''

Kris adds, turning his wedding ring on his finger. ''Everything Erik and I can do to set you up to become the team's top defenceman, we will, mon dauphin. If reason fails, try force.''

Tristan asks, clearly wondering about his dad, who is retiring this year. ''Would Flower have helped us? If he was still here?'' Geno nods, and assures him. ''He would have, probably earlier than we did.''

Drew finishes his coffee, and adjusts his beanie, hiding the weird choice he made with his hair - or lack thereof - a couple of weeks ago. ''I'd love to see the five of you scheming together, you know? It'd be carnage!''

Sid smiles, eyes filled with nostalgia for those golden days, even if there was a few pieces to the puzzle missing at the time. ''So would we, sunshine.'' He adds. ''This - all of it - will be yours at some point, and we have to give you four the best chance possible.''

Kris nods, and says, tapping his nails on his tea mug, no coffee for him since 2014. ''And, if it comes to it, we'll do it all over again until it sticks.''

Rusty bursts out laughing, humoured by the serious faces of his dads and uncles. ''That's a bit excessive, Kris.''

Sitting back in his chair, Geno shrugs. ''It's not if it's necessary, medvezhonok.''

Erik nods, cracking his knuckles. ''Preach.''

What the future four will never truly reckon with is that the current core are completely honest. The four of them have dealt with too much bullshit of their own, too many slimy general managers, feckless coaches, and lying media people. The strike wasn't just about them being unhappy with the team's results. It was breaking a cycle, breaking the wheel, and - if fate treats them nicely this time around - the wheel will stay broken. It should have started when Flower left, or at the very least when PO and Jake left, but it didn't. At least it happened, though. Things can only be bent so much until they break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The claw back period of the season meanders on, the new coaching staff have things ticking like a clock for the first time in two years. And, the team have agreed to have weekly meetings now to assess things together without anyone looking or listening in. They've even been granted a media room in both arenas for their meetings. With a nice round table so everyone can see and hear each other better. After the sixth consecutive win of the new era, they have a team meeting, and get home to rest up. Ever a union member, Kris wonders if they will set the new precedent of teams in all leagues being more comfortable to bring strike action against their management. He's served in the PA for ages now, and this might be one of the biggest things he's ever been part of.

But, the worrying and thinking period is long over now. It's time to just get the heads down and elbows out, and win these games. They've got one hell of a mountain to climb, and to any other team, it'd be terrifying.

But, that's the thing, the Penguins have never been a normal team, and they're damn proud of it as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, got her done! So... this might be a lot to take in, and I have no idea if this would be allowed in the first place. But, whole league lockouts are a thing, so single team strikes might also be? I'd not be shocked to learn that a team in, like, the SHL striked against their bosses once upon a time. But, here she finally is! Never thought I'd get this fic done, but every loss the Pens took was just more ammo in my arsenal.

This is basically a vent fic with some shipping in it, so this might feel a bit... odd to read. But, this has been so cool to write, especially given the grey rocking the boys give to Kyle! That was fun to write for sure!

Sorry this took so damned long as well, it is currently two degrees celsius in Scotland, and my fucking hands have been freezing cold ever since the start of the week. No idea what causes it, but I just live around it for the most part.

Enjoy!

[bcolfanfic]

the people want more backstory about rosie adopting naomi!! (when u have time ofc)

rosieeeee. sweet man.

after he comes home from bagram august 2021 he contemplates staying in active duty, and maybe starting the application process and what not to go down the JAG path. but he came home from bagram with a lottt of anexity and the more thought he gives it the more he's just. ready to be done. ready to not worry about if he's gonna get sent into another fire in another war etc etc. goes back to practicing "normal law" mostly property law with an agriculture focus.

the thought of adopting just kinda washes over him out of the blue one day. is talking to a co-worker who adopted as a single parent and can't shake the "huh, what if i did that" feeling. talks himself out of it for a couple weeks, but then it comes back in his head, and he /really/ can't shake it this time.

sees his mom for lunch or something and she can tell he's off. asks if he's alright thinking it's ptsd related and he just blurts out something to the effect of do you think i'd be a good dad?

she pauses for a long moment bc she gen was not expecting that at all. but sees the look on his face and that he's asking genuinely and just. melts. yv rosie in my mind is super close with his mama (dad died when he was young) and seeing her baby so sincerely thinking about something like this just. makes her heart swell up. she tells him she think's he'd be a great dad, and prods a little about why he's asking which is a nice outlet for him to talk things out loud with someone.

the next people he tells that he's considering it are croz (his bff <3) and jeanie and they're both practically jumping through the phone like yes oh my god of course you'd be a good dad are you kidding????

he's a very private person and maybeee tells ev too because he figures croz will anyways. but outside the two of them everyone else doesn't know a thing till he actually has her. (think he similar to the bucks does the waiting child thing. was fully expecting to get an older kiddo since that's typically how that goes. but they call him about a lil 11 month old baby and he says yes before he can think twice about it. the social worker he's been working with nudges him a little about considering changing/choosing her name since she's so young, which he stresses a considerable amount over since he was not expecting to have to worry about that lmao. but he gives it some thought and goes with naomi and it Feels Right.)

croz and jeanie go out to be there and see lil baby naomi right after he gets her. croz texts a pic of rosie with her to the gc and everyone is like ????. they all think they somehow missed/forgot an entire crosby child existing lmao. but then croz is texts something to the effect of new rosenthal just dropped (: and they're like WHAT. lmfao. bucky just about screams and scares the hell out of gale across the house. dramatic ass. (which ironic, when him and gale end up more or less being in the same predicament with their friends finding out about baby micah with how sudden all that is).

goddd rosie is so happy. gets all teary talking to croz about it and croz gets a lil emotional too telling him he knows exactly how he feels. tells him that feeling never really goes away, and that he's already such a good dad which makes hm realllly cry. sweet boy.

naomi is that man's moon and stars. obv all the guys that have kids love their kiddos to death. but esp since it's just the two of them before aiden comes along, they're bonded real tight in a way that just. idk makes her real stiff competition for the most adored little girl on the planet.

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 23 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: A little bit filler….and I apologize for that! I woke up with some blood clotting and it’s been a bit rough today 😅 next chapter will hopefully make up for that! As always, let me know what you think!

The day before D-Day, Ruth felt like she was running around as a chicken would without a head.  It was for more than one reason that consumed her thoughts.  D-Day was everything that they had been working for and it represented a real hope that the war might be able to be finished soon.  Everyone was hands on deck and working to the best of their ability to make things happen. 

Ruth hadn’t slept for more than 45 minutes at a time, taking short naps when she could afford it.  But even her dreams were plagued with the other particular issue that she was having and its name was Robert Rosenthal. 

How dare he weasel his way into her heart yet again and how dare she go too far and let him touch and kiss her like she had?  She was foolish and damned to hell, most certainly for her actions.  Robert Rosenthal was someone that she needed to be untouchable.  Needed to keep her distance from.  

If not for the fact that they were enemies, then certainly for the fact that whatever fake relationship they had going on was going to be complicated by the all too real lust that the two of them felt.  But she wasn’t so foolish a woman as to pretend that Robert Rosenthal didn’t make her physically weak in the knees simply because of how he looked and the fact that she trusted him. 

Nor was she immune to the fact that she desperately needed someone in a carnal nature—and not just because she was lonely.  Ruth needed the comfort that came from being with another person physically.  And whether that meant she was sitting atop his face and having a heady pleasure course through her or she was on her knees and showing him straight to the seventh heaven, she didn’t care. 

She just knew that she needed something like that and soon—or she might just lose her damn mind.  

Speaking of losing one’s mind was the very vision of Harry Crosby, practically a madman at this point.  Ruth rushed past the man, eager to get her next set of paperwork to the Colonel.  She didn’t have time for the tired ramblings of Crosby, who hadn’t slept in three days and was practically the walking dead.  She had far too much on her mind to worry about what was going on with him. 

There was Abe and Rosie who she needed to worry about as a whole—because the two of them were going up in the skies on D-Day and that meant she was going to be praying the entire time that they would just come back alright.  There was Liesel, who by all intents and purposes, was her legal ward for the time being—and Ruth truthfully knew nothing about raising a child, let alone a teenage girl who was now getting in trouble at school and that had been put on the backburner for the week. 

There was the fact that her mother had sent a damn package with so many of her personal effects from home—including her personal diary that she had taken the time to hide (mostly because it contained several secrets and a rather embarrassing Valentine that happened to be the only one she had ever received).  It was a rather damning thing, having the very diary that contained her younger self’s thoughts on Robert Rosenthal—hell, he took up half of the damn thing and that was mortifying in and of itself. 

The tip of Ruth’s pencil snapped and she just let out a frustrated sound, quickly grabbing for another pencil to finish off the paperwork.  Signing her name, Ruth had just moved out of her office when she caught sight of a group of men carrying Harry Crosby towards the Hospital Wing. 

She nearly stopped short, confusion flitting across her face.  “Is he…did he pass out?” Ruth questioned, eyebrows shooting up in the air. 

Jack Kidd just looked equally as annoyed by the actions.  “I told him he needed sleep.” 

“Oh that dumb man,” Ruth mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose.  “Well—get him to the hospital and let him rest.  He’s off the clock now.  And no one better wake him up again,” Ruth warned in a short tone. 

Kidd gave a nod.  “You heard Lieutenant Sharpe.  Go on then.” He let out a deep sigh as the others took off with Crosby in tow.  For a moment, the two of them just lingered in the hallway. Ruth looked her friend up and down, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“You should get some sleep too.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“That was an order.” 

“I’m pretty sure I outrank you.” 

“You really wanna argue with me on this right now, ol’ Jackie boy?” Ruth crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. 

Any resistance that Kidd had died in his shoulders and he glanced down.  “Not really.  I don’t have the energy for that.” 

“I know you don’t.  So go rest.  Please?  God knows we need you right now and we don’t need another hospitalized competent person unable to help us.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright and early on the morning of June 6th, 1944—before almost anyone else was up, Ruth, Rosie, and Abe all gathered together in the mess hall, sitting quietly with one another and letting Ruth pray over them. 

Ruth had practically dragged them all there, but neither one of them could complain this time around.  The invasion of Europe was no laughing matter, after all.  And they needed all of the help, both human and divine, that they could muster.  If that meant Ruth demanding God bring them home safely, then so be it. 

After the prayers were said and Ruth had done her best not to cry (she had done her makeup and everything this morning and didn’t need it smearing, thank you very much), she reluctantly came to the realization that she would have to let them go today.  And it was at this particular moment that she wondered how Abraham could have possibly offered up Isaac to the Lord.  

What humanity and mortality required of her was impossible and far too full of grief to be any type of fair.  

She had her time with Abe first, pulling him aside just outside of the mess hall before he would go in there to eat and then be the property of the United States Air Force.  Looking him over, Ruth realized that she could scarcely recognize the young man that stood in front of her now.  Abe seemed to be all grown—so much of a man.  He was still just a child in number, but he had seen and done things that boys had not.  His time here had cemented that he was now a man. 

Ruth sucked in a breath.  Be gentle, be firm, be his friend, be his sister, be his person.  But don’t push him away.  “Be careful up there alright?” 

He just gave her a crooked grin in response. “Ruthie, I’m always careful.  And when has my math ever led us astray?” 

“Don’t you dare get cocky.  Not today,” Ruth’s tone of voice did not suggest begging, but it did hold some plea to him to be true to his word. 

Almost immediately, Abe sobered at her tone of voice and gave a nod.  “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Don’t ma’am me,” Ruth stated in exasperation.  She brought the boy in for a hug, trying to pour every piece of luck and karma and hope and prayer that she could into the hug.  Because maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to keep him alive.  And maybe, just maybe, he would come back to her and get to have a life. 

It felt like a lifetime before she let go of him and then Robert Rosenthal was standing in front of her and it was all just so much—the fact that he was going to be the pilot, the fact that he was going to be going up and could die too—

Any sentimentality that Ruth wanted to have lived, breathed, and then died in her lungs.  She had half a mind to tell him that she couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him and that if anything happened to him or Abe, she’d surely transfer to another base and drown her sorrows in work.  She had half a mind to beg him to come back to her (and yes, that was right, she said beg).  She had half a mind to jump him here and now against the very mess hall building and let him be the one to take the remaining shreds of whatever virginity she had. 

But Ruth did none of that. 

She stood there, cold as ever, with her arms crossed and breath even.  She stood there and she looked him dead in the eyes.  “Uh….are you—are you gonna say anything?” Rosie asked, confusion flitting around his face.  Ruth was never this silent, never this steely before.  It was simply unnerving and he didn’t know what to make of any of it. 

“Come back and you might just find out.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

D-Day went off without a single hitch and Ruth was almost entirely certain that it was a God-given miracle.  How else to explain the fact that there had been no air resistance for the men by the time that they had shown up to the fight—those paratroopers and marines on the beaches had cleared the way for the skies to be taken by the pilots of the Hundredth and other groups. 

In fact, the bombs had been dropped and Rosie’s plane had returned without a single mark, scratch, or dent in it.  The utter relief that Ruth felt at the sight of that dumb plane—the singular time that it would ever go unmarked on a mission—was irrepressible.  

For those few hours that they had been in the skies, Ruth had haunted the local church like she was some sort of weeping woman or banshee from old folk tales.  She had paced like a ghost unable to shake the dust from its own death and then made her way to the candles—and she had lit candles for every single member in Rosie’s crew.  She had lit candles for her paratrooper friends like Lew and Dick—and she had prayed. 

Let them be the righteous hand of God and carry them back on the wings of your love. 

And those prayers had been answered—at least for the men at Thorpe Abbotts.  Ruth didn’t altogether mind the aching in her spine or the pinching of needles that bundled up down in her lower back.  If lingering back pain that acted up in times of stress from her residual injuries with Timothy was the cost of bringing back her brother and Rosie safely, then she’d happily pay the price ten times over. 

So neither Rosie or Abe was surprised when Ruth barrelled into them, pulling them both into a fierce hug.  Because if nothing else, they had established that the three of them were something.  They were a family, if a little unconventional at best.  But they were there for one another.  And they’d keep on coming back to one another.  It was just how it all worked. 

The party that filled Thorpe Abbotts was simply extravagant and ever so slightly gauche.  The death toll for the men in Thorpe Abbotts may not have gone up, but Ruth was keeping an ear out for reports on the men on the beaches and those who had dropped behind the enemy lines.  Their death toll would be a number that she wouldn’t be able to forget—because with everything they did, there was always a cost. 

But Ruth lit up a pipe at the end of the night and she sat and watched the skies of Thorpe Abbotts carefully.  And when Rosie joined her, she didn’t hesitate in handing him the pipe.  And for a moment, just a shining moment—the two of them just sat in the silence and in the waiting of trying to figure out what the hell that they were amidst the hellscape that was the war.  

And when the night was over and the party had died down, the two of them parted ways and stayed in the waiting.  Because now was not their time. And they both knew it. 

[wisefoxluminary]

Vigor: an essay on Toxic Masculinity in The Boys - character analysis of Soldier Boy and Homelander

So The Boys account posted the full magazine cover of Soldier Boy that Kimiko was reading in the recent episode and a interesting detail caught my eye. Years after his supposed death, Soldier Boy is a poster child of a men's health magazine titled Vigor, a word commonly associated with physical strength and good health. Soldier Boy is a symbol of a true patriotic America and how all men should act. They don't make men like that anymore because Soldier Boy's influence is still strong. This cover is very striking to me as it supports the idea that all men need to be strong and conform to the societal norm. Encouraging men to break up with their girlfriends or to not enjoy interests that aren't associated with manhood etc. There really is an underlying issue of toxic masculinity as Soldier Boy is a literal representation of it. Men are supposed to be strong and that by showing emotion, it is considered weakness. To fit into society, men need to adopt machismo traits in order to preserve their image. Soldier Boy represents how a man should act and behave, we see in season 3 about his outdated views on how men should dress and act, especially his belittling of Hughie.

Men who align themselves with toxic masculinity normally have toxic role models. People in the public eye who have a bad influence on young boys, they further encourage/bring out their toxic traits and mold them into the worst version of themselves per Soldier Boy's warped idolization of Bill Crosby whom he considers to be America's dad when he is far from it. Bullying and deliberately harmed others because they feel they are a threat to their masculine pride just like Soldier Boy's abusive treatment of Black Noir and Soldier Boy considering Homelander, his own son, a disappointment because he doesn't know how to be a father and he sees himself reflecting in Homelander's eyes, the man his father thought had cheated to get compound V in his system, passing on that cycle of abuse and toxic masculinity to Homelander who is slowly breaking under his own pressure and passing that down onto Ryan. We had the scene prior to this of Butcher and Soldier Boy talking about their own abusive fathers and this is key to his character. By becoming his father, Soldier Boy can reject his own flesh and blood and thus driving everyone else to turn against him. This is conflict uprooted in toxic masculinity.

Homelander idolised Soldier Boy way before he learned that he was his father and his desire to reunite stemming from his need to be loved and thus being rejected by him really shakes up Homelander's world. He goes through a mid-life crisis, has fears about becoming old and dives deeper into psychosis by using his power to make other men do things that bring harm to their strong masculine image (hence the blow a-train and the whole scene with Marty.) Homelander may have went back to the lab to come to terms with his past because he felt like he was hurting Ryan, but this was something he had to do for himself to grapple with the effects his father's rejection left on him, how his departure led HL to spend his life in captivity and torture, bringing out his depraved almost childlike ego. A mask he has to wear to hide his fragile masculinity which came out in full force after Soldier Boy called him a fucking disappointment to his face and that continues to slip away the more people challenge him/the more unstable he becomes.

He wants to make himself better and by bringing this harm to others, it's making him fall down the path of becoming a monster, someone worse than even his own father. He considers humans to be below him because they are toys for his own amusement that he can burn down at any second. Someone that he can swoop in and save the day for but could easily control like puppets until they destroy themselves. A common attribute associated with toxic masculinity as males with this type of scorned ego seek to use their bad influence on people to make them feel smaller and to cause them to embrace this toxicity and fall down a dark path of violence and hatred hence falling into place like dominos. Sage encouraged him to adopt this mentality in order to crush the masses with his influence. He is influenced Ryan to embrace this dark behaviours, the same way Soldier Boy used it to put the fear of god into his teammates. Soldier Boy rejected Homelander and by doing that Homelander is falling down this rabbit hole of toxic and fragile masculinity. I'm not saying Homelander wasn't as much of a psychopath before this but it is further encouraging him to adopt this damaging traits and it has sent him too far gone into unhinged territory. Without the love of his father, Homelander has allowed that rejection to take power over him and to shape him into the unforgiving monster he is today. Homelander wouldn't be the way he was in season 4 without Soldier Boy. His influence is greatly felt this season and this is why Homelander has grown into a such snivelling monster hellbent on destroying all of mankind.

With this being said, Soldier Boy also deals with his own kind of fragile masculinity as seen in season 3 when others like Hughie challenge him as a way of emasculating his own overly assertive ego and how he thinks he is better than everyone else. He isn't exactly the red blooded American hero everyone thinks he is and there is something deeper underneath the surface. Soldier Boy serves orders blindly and unquestionably like a unforgiving soldier and is pompously up his own ass. He resorts to violence whenever someone challenges him because he thinks that by smacking the shit out of them, they'll do nothing to harm his ego. They won't expose him for the man he truly is. Soldier Boy really struggles to break out of this mold. He is compensating for his masculinity because he thinks that's how a man is supposed to be strong/fit in to the societal norm when he is far from it. The magazine directly challenges this, taking hits at Soldier Boy's fragile ego by saying is "metrosexuality threatening your manhood"

This takes us into a further deep dive into Soldier Boy's head and how people many years later perceive him. Metrosexuality is relating and denoting men from urban areas who pay too much attention to their personal appearance and cultivating a upscale lifestyle. Men who are obsessed with fashion and how they look, interests that are traditionally associated with women and gay men. It is basically like a heterosexual adopting trends that are stereotypical with homosexuals. Metrosexuals could be openly gay, straight or bisexual.

Soldier Boy is the definition of this term. He is seen in the past quite frequently with the way he performed on Solid Gold, the movie career he cultivated and his sexual activity such as his role in founding herogasm. Caring only about his appearance in public rather than anyone’s perceptions of him, getting lost to drugs and sex as all depraved heroes do. He was high on the eagle's nest. Soldier Boy could very well have experimented with bisexual tendencies at this time but chose to adopt toxic masculinity traits because homosexuality was considered as a crime and far too outside norm at this time and a damaging weakness to a man's ego so Soldier Boy had to keep up this macho facade as a way of not bringing shame to his country. Soldier Boy is the type of guy who is inquired about a fling with another man but then denies that it's gay because he is too strong and egocentric to admit that about himself. This is seen in the way he treats Mallory on the battlefield as his fragile ego gets tested. He embraces misogynistic and homophobic views as a way of looking down on people because he feels that he needs to deflect from the person he truly is. A defensive mechanism so to speak to hide who he truly is. That true part of himself he keeps under lock and key with this toxic persona he has cultivated for himself. By suppressing his true desires, Soldier Boy must become a literal monster and use that power to wreck people's lives with it. It's just as The Deep said, violence is power and that influence will cause others in their wallowing toxic masculinity to do unspeakable things.

I think in season five, we will see Homelander waking up his father from his cryogenic chamber and conspire a truce with him. Manipulating Soldier Boy to join his supe army in their global conquest in exchange for restoring his public image and redeeming himself in the eyes of Vought and the public. Soldier Boy is overbearing, controlling, not really in align with his son's ideas. He uses this partnership as a way of getting revenge on the people that trapped him in the box, mainly The Boys and Stan Edgar. With these issues I've talked about father and son facing, this could eventually lead conflict to stur between Homelander and Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy doesn't think Homelander is fit to lead his team as his power and insanity is slipping by the day. All he cares about is getting his father's approval for the heinous things he's done rather than confront the problem at hand. So Soldier Boy uses his toxic influence to turn the rest of The Seven against him, encouraging them to adopt violent tendencies and to no longer fear Homelander. This leads to Soldier Boy and Homelander to fight as this alliance is likely to end bloody for everyone. Homelander feels rejected and angry and it causes him to go completely off the rails, maybe even violently kill someone in public like the end of season 3 when he felt rejected by SB. I think this was subtly teased with the VCU slate back in episode 5 when a movie called Homelander vs. Soldier Boy: Annihilation was shown, hinting that eventually all blows over and they fight. A father driven to pure hatred of his only son who stages an uprising against him all because Homelander's ego is too fragile for him to handle and it will cause his inevitable downfall. A cycle that is too broken for them to fix.

So in conclusion, Soldier Boy is a character stemmed in toxic masculinity and that influence he carries has damaging consequences for his own son Homelander and everyone around him. By rejected Homelander, Soldier Boy gets rid of that fragile part of him he hated and suppressed for so long. Someone starved for attention and craving for love like he used to be.

End of essay

[imbackonmy-bullshit]

Autistic things i am projecting onto Jack Zimmerman that I wish I could make into fic but I don't have the spoons:

Brings his own sheets/pillow and a weighted blanket on all his roadies because hotel sheets are the most inconsistent sensory experience and bitty finds him a little minky blanket in samwell colours (the thin soft kind not the icky thick ones that go clumpy)

if I had NHL money you bet I would do the same for every Derby away game.

Likes his *dad music* but has found a few songs though bitty that he plays on repeat to stim when he's anxious or overloaded (me with unsteady by the X ambassadors because it has the best heartbeat like effect and is so calming) maybe surprises people when he gets asked his most played song in an interview and it's like Halo or somthing

Most of his Autism *quirks* get written of as hockey superstition at first and everyone is like Jeeze jack ur worse than crosby and he's like what do you mean this is same breakfast I've been having it since I was six and I need the hand soap to be the foaming kind because regular liquid soap is a slimy torture it's got nothing to do with hockey

Having a bad time on a roadie *hey tater can you just like hulk crush me pls...thanks bud*

*how do I contact rink maintenance this light in the locker room is flickering and I want to murder it*

[therealslimshakespeare]

No one talks enough about how intelligent and valuable John “Bucky” Egan was. He was chosen Air Exec for the 100th and the scene where he was following Crosby’s navigations with no prior knowledge? Not to mention he seemed to somehow always get his way with his superiors and CO, if that man wanted to fly - he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from getting on a plane. Invaluable on the ground and in the sky. Gale was the happiness of the group of boys (at least in the show, once he’s gone everyone’s ~ different ~ ) but Bucky had a relationship with the higher ups, making sure his boys were okay, and then with the squad themselves. He was the strength of the group while Buck was the glue. And none of this to take away from how amazing all the men are in history.

Oh my gosh preach it! Much as it’s discussed about what a goober he is, how heart-on-his-sleeve he is, etc, and how that effects his eventual spiral in camp -I think the chief hindrance there is also his chief virtue:

He’s always been their #1 Advocate.

The sheer amount of love and care he’s sown in the 100th is incredible and so selfless and as you pointed out, often done behind the scenes. I think that was half of what drove him batty in captivity was a complete lack of leverage to appeal and secure for his men what they needed -the tipping point being the strafing during the marches. But truly, he is a gem, he’s got brains under the humor and so much heart. I love to hear a little appreciation being given for it.

Anyways, anyone who wants to scream about Egan’s underrated leadership qualities? Parachute into my inbox, babes

[redbelles]

RATE HARRY CROSBY FOR BLORBO PLEASE

so this is probably not the the kind of rating you were expecting, but my opinion re: crosby is,,,,,,,,,, complicated

i've read "a wing and a prayer" and am fully unwell about it, but so much of what i love about him in his memoir does not translate to the portrayal we got in masters of the air. we don't really see him evolve into one of the best navigators in the eighth air force. he was a powerful, effective, good officer who routinely went to bat for his men, and we don't witness that at all. we get some of the unrelenting grief from the endless loss of personnel that wore him down and ate him up, but it's at a remove because of the way the show managed everyone's screen time. the only thing we get a true close up look at is the messy personal drama, which unfortunately amounts to nothing more than speculation— everyone who actually knew whether or not he cheated is dead, and even his kids are split on what they think happened. ultimately, i don't think masters of the air did his character justice, which honestly just kind of sucks

and, cherry on top, i have a cripplingly low tolerance for secondhand embarrassment ( @sluttyhenley can confirm 🫠) so show!crosby just. does not do it for me.

tl;dr i think irl harry crosby was incredible, but i don't really care one way or the other about the fictional portrayal we got in the show :/

send me a blorbo to rate

[tapejob]

who do you recommend voting for to reach max narratives & fucked up vacation plans per team?

HOOOO lets talk abt this, bc this is one of the driving factors and also one of the driving uses for this nonserious mock narrative network analysis (NMNNA) i made. we will be referencing her quite a bit tonight.

let's talk about top narrative candidates:

there is, in a sense, a sort of must in the case of bringing in leon draisaitl (edm). re our NMNNA, draisaitl nurses not one, not two, but three largely evident narrative connections, and all of those affiliated side connections snowballed on top of that. there is, as someone brought up before, matt tkachuk and draisaitl (reunited!) and brady who drai fought a while ago. drai and davo, old and gold and in love. and also, a fun little side story: draisaitl and josh morrissey, who will be reuniting from their days in juniors (and from the jets reverse sweep in the 2021 scp). if you want drama, vote draisaitl.

in the same breath, you might as well bring in tim stützle (ott) while you're at it. give drai a bro to face the tkachuks with. or at least neutralize brady.

another compelling angle to look at here: nathan mackinnon (col). yes, makar-mackinnon-kadri creates an effective 2 birds with 1 puck situation with both an avalanche reunion and also an opportunity for mac to salivate over makar again in a public forum. mac-crosby would commence, showstopping, awesome. but also something to consider: mcdavid and mackinnon together, in a room with their idol (crosby), after the avs singlehandedly crushed the oilers playoff chances last year and we ran that narrative through its course. consider.

we are as always talking about jack eichel (vgk) for jack eichel related purposes. he as always connects with mcdavid for all of the reasons that cannot be stated, but also connects to ullmark and thompson from sabres-related pasts grievances and is linked to thompson for vegas-related future hopes. gaudreau and him were also buddies. and also, a fun little hidden tidbit: the larkin-eichel of it all. this is my agenda and i am bringing her forward.

if we do not bring in claude giroux (ott) are we even allowed to be here. this is honestly a little bit of a crime because we are Cutting Into That Old Man's Vacation but crosby is here and hayes is here and brady is here and everyone who loved him so much last year is too. what are we supposed to do.

re NMNNA, that connecting bubble between jones and larkin is, you guessed it, room for zach werenski (cbj). and that also connects too to gaudreau, in true teammate fashion.

i give a sort of null amount of care about this particular narrative but for those who might be interested, hughes is surrounded by team usa olds. you can give him some company if you'd like (if you're out of ideas, caufield (mtl) connects to both suzuki and hughes relationally. but you guys know that better than i probably).

also something to look at are the "lonely" kids on the NMNNA: pettersson, beniers are big ones, but also robertson, thompson (both of them), nelson, keller, etc, etc. it's on you guys if you want to leave them lonely and looking for random conversation, or if you want to hook them up with a buddy (e.g. quinn hughes (van) connects to both jhughes and pettersson. sort of a two birds with one stone situation).

if you have a personal narrative agenda to fulfill, this is also the time to do that. good ones i've seen so far have been:

tyson jost (buf) (confronts him with both his avalanche days, a sprinkle of wild, and gives company to thompson)

anyone from the 2015 draft class you can get your hands on. wouldn't it be funny if we brought in dylan strome (wsh). wouldn't it be funny.

mats zuccarello (min) for kaprizov excitement boosting purposes

moritz seider (det) for larkin and (if so voted) draisaitl

evgeni malkin (pit) for crosby and ovechkin

literally anyone you can narratively pair to keep specifically those lonely old men company. they have to work today.

as for those of you who hope to ruin the vacations of players: there is only two-ish tips to keep in mind.

1) the more vet you are picking, the more you are in for a vacation-ruining-asg. pick any vet that you want to see get screentime and suffering, because they see the asg for what it is: a time where they need to keep working and entertain the masses instead of fucking off to cancun. do you think erik karlsson wants to be here, for the 7th time in a row. bonus points if they have kids, they are Tired of that shit.

2) it's in florida this year, which means the hot single excited young guns still clamoring for fame are Not going to see this as punishment* (with an asterisk, in that it will be punishment only if they are Alone). tread carefully.