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#anyway here have a thing because I CANNOT add another au to my drafts thank you and goodbyyyyye
blue-mood-blue · 5 months
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I’ve grown to appreciate the aus where Shen Yuan enters the story as “Shen Yuan” - same name, probably similar face, generally able to interact with PIDW as himself and change the story through his added presence. I like the sense of “if only you’d been here, things might have been better the first time around” of it all.
And I was thinking, it’s a funny coincidence in that scenario that someone named Shen Yuan gets put into… another Shen Yuan. What are the chances? What a weird twist of fate that Airplane would pick out the name that his most dedicated critic could slip into seamlessly.
What about a version where it’s not coincidence at all?
Airplane goes to school with a kid named Shen Yuan. He’s prickly and hard to approach and a little intense, but Airplane is persistent. In fairness, Airplane is relentless - and maybe it’s a good thing that they end up being friends, because they’re a little too much for anyone else to handle. They balance each other out. They’re the “weird kids” in class and they’re okay with that, because even when they don’t have any words for it, they know they’re not like their classmates, not really. That’s okay; they don’t want to be.
Recesses and breaks are consumed with the elaborate stories that Airplane wants to tell, and all the holes Shen Yuan pokes into them. It’s not mean-spirited, though, even though Shen Yuan isn’t the kind to temper his words. It’s passionate. He cares about those stories the way Airplane cares about them, and it can’t be mistaken for anything else when they lean together conspiratorially across the lunchroom table. They’ve both got notebooks filled with details and characters and monsters. Shen Yuan’s practically got a whole bestiary sketched out in wobbly childhood attempts at art, entries fervently scrawled beside them. Airplane prattles out plots nonstop, always with the promise of shining eyes and being asked “what happens next?”
They come up with a whole world together. Airplane’s going to write about it someday. Shen Yuan is going to read every word.
Shen Yuan misses school. Shen Yuan starts missing school a lot.
Airplane goes to the hospital room instead. He doesn’t think to worry, because Shen Yuan is okay - that’s what he says. He looks okay, and he’s a kid, and it doesn’t feel real that anything bad should happen to a kid. He doesn’t think to worry. He doesn’t think to say goodbye.
It’s one of the older Shen brothers who catches him on the way up to the room one day, in the hallway just outside - snaps at him to go the fuck home, and when Airplane hesitates, pushes him into the elevator and tells him not to come back. “Tells” is a generous way to describe the way the words come out - a growl, a hiss, the sound an animal would make when a hand got too close to a wound.
(It’s not fair to name a villain after him, even if the name never really comes up in the story. He wasn’t trying to be mean. He’d lost a brother minutes before, and he was getting his brother’s friend out of the way so he didn’t have to… see. It isn’t fair, but then, none of it is fair.)
Death feels very real after that.
The notebooks get shoved into a closet, and it’s not until Airplane’s moving out and one falls on him from a high shelf that he thinks about it again. He’s written things, lots of things, but nothing as ambitious as this - nothing as important. It could be good, he considers. He’d promised. Shen Yuan wanted to read it.
The problem was that no one else does, not for a long time, not until Airplane has whittled himself and his art into a corner and into such an unfamiliar shape that he has to wonder how it’s still his own face he sees in the mirror. He has to eat. He has to pay rent. Shen Yuan would yell at him, but Shen Yuan isn’t there to yell at him, and who cares. Who cares if it could have been better? The people who actually are here love it, and it’s paying his bills, and sometimes stories don’t go the way they’re supposed to and the world is fucking unfair. It doesn’t matter.
(It does. But he shoves that thought away along with styrofoam cups and soda bottles to the bottom of a garbage bag.)
Authors are not gods and their power is limited, but Airplane exercises just a sliver of what he’s been granted and gifts an inconsequential sort of immortality. He thinks about making him a rogue cultivator, maybe the kind that goes around documenting beasts and compiling his findings. He thinks about making him someone too powerful for death to touch, or too important to threaten, but when Airplane looks at the world he crafted and everything that’s become of it, it feels like the kindest thing he can do for Shen Yuan is a childhood where he’s loved, and a death that’s peaceful. What does it say about that world, that he’d kill off his best friend too early again instead of making him live there?
(The best writing he ever does is the only, shining moment of humanity that his scum villain ever displays: a lament about death that comes too early, about a brother gone too soon. The commenters praise him. The commenters flatter over how real the emotions feel. The commenters don’t get any response from Airplane on that chapter.)
Death is incredibly real when it comes for him too early, too, still hovering over his keyboard with the story technically finished and incredibly incomplete. Airplane could tell himself that’s because the written version can never be the version in the writer’s head, always shifting and with every possibility still on the table, but he knows better than that. The System knows better than that, with its condescending message about “improving” his writing and “closing plot holes” and “achieving his original vision”...
…and he’s a child again. He’s a child in his own story, he’s Shang Qinghua now without the benefit yet of a peak or cultivation or anything, and maybe he’s a little bitter, and a little scared, and…
And Shen Yuan - with longer hair, with robes, with a couple of older kids watching him from across the street, but undeniably the prickly little boy who used to sit down imperiously across from him and tell him everything that was wrong with the chuck of writing that had been handed to him last period, but with that smile that said he was only invested because he knew it could be better and they were going to make it better - marches up to him with a fire in his eyes and a frown that warns of a coming tirade.
“You told it wrong,” is the first thing he says.
Shang Qinghua wants to ask how him how he’s here, how this is possible, or maybe laugh because, yeah - yeah, Shen Yuan has no goddamn idea how wrong he got absolutely everything.
(Shang Qinghua wants to say “I missed you” and “why did you leave so soon” but he’s here now. He’s right here.)
“I know,” he says instead. “I’m sorry. It all kind of… spiraled out of control.”
Shen Yuan frowns, but then it dissipates the way it always does, and his eyes shine with ideas the way they always used to. “That’s okay,” he relents, grabbing for his hand. “We’ll fix it. We’ll make it what it was supposed to be.”
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landwriter · 1 year
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oh menacing writer of the land, I bow to thee. forgive me for my intrusion, for I come to you with great reverence. might I be granted with the holy scripture of the musician!dream x professor hob au? I bring an offering of information on touring, musician life + music industry insight, should you so graciously answer my prayers 🙏
a handsome gift! the least I can offer is more twitter beef au!! most of this was written right in my tumblr drafts when I was still labouring under the delusion that was I was doing could be called "describe the fic you would write" - hob learns about The Diss Track. in his introduction to english lit class:
On Thursday morning, Hob is walking to his lecture, wearing his one sweatervest, because he can, thank you very much. Morpheus hadn't posted in over a day, and he supposes that's just the speed of the internet, and their little battle of wits is over. When he gets into the hall and sets his bag down, every single one of his students looks up at once. And several young people who - who are not even his students, he thinks.
"Right, hello class. Good to see you all here and keen on our last lecture before winter break. And welcome to the new faces as well. I can only assume you're here because of your interest in Marlowe."
"Oh my god," someone says at the back, loud enough for Hob to hear. "He's wearing the vest." He firmly reminds himself this is exactly what he wanted.
Amanda, who sits at the front and always does the readings, raises her hand. Hob calls on her in relief.
"Uh. Professor. We love Marlowe. But haven't you seen it yet?"
Hob had forgotten to silence his phone and it's started buzzing. He ignores it.
"Seen what," he says, very levelly. Smiling firmly. Not at all panicking. Ignoring his students' exchanged glances.
"The song."
"It's a diss track," says another student.
"Sorry, yeah, the diss track."
The entire lecture hall is faintly vibrating with anticipation.
"Is there swearing?" he asks, "I mean, more than I do in class. Anything particularly offensive?"
"No, professor," she says, understanding immediately.
"Well, I suspect I'll find it pretty quickly if I check my phone just now, and that only half of you are here for Marlowe anyways, so let's just put it on, shall we?"
Some kids actually cheer. "Enough of that," he says, "We're going to have a rigorous academic discussion about it afterwards." Then, because he cannot and will not help himself, he adds, "Presuming, of course, there is sufficient subject matter to engage with."
He pulls out his phone and fails utterly to hide his grin at the chorus of ooohs. Someone in the back actually shouts, "Get him, professor!"
Sure enough, the same video has been sent to him half a dozen times. He pulls it up, gets it displayed on the lecture hall's screen, and presses play.
“Alright,” he says. “Let’s see what all this fuss is all about.”
He has enough professional goodwill from years of teaching to do this kind of stupid thing, and it's nice to cash it in, sometimes. He likes to be the cool professor when he can. Even in a sweatervest.
He leans back against the lectern to watch. It's not Morpheus on screen, but a woman that Hob distantly recognizes. She's gorgeous, and apparently, given the rapturous whispers behind him, also at least a little famous. She's surrounded by takeaway containers, fiddling with her phone until music starts playing. "Good job, baby brother." She takes a sip of her beer and then wipes her mouth, and grins brightly right at the camera. "This one's for you, prof," she says, laughing.
Afterwards, the entire lecture hall is silent. Hob is silent.
"Holy shit," says a student, and Hob turns around, face burning. "She murdered you."
Hob gathers himself. He feels a little dizzy. It might low blood sugar. Or love.
"Indeed. Right. Well. Certainly a lot to unpack there." His hands are a little sweaty. It's definitely love. "This isn’t a classics class, but I know some of you are classics students and would be happy to educate us, so let’s start with that parallel made right at the start between the Lotophagi - that’s the lotus-eaters from The Odyssey - and the concept of academia as an ivory tower. Who wants to talk about that?"
Five different hands shoot up. "Wow. Okay, okay," he laughs. "Tristan, start us off."
In the next 80 minutes, he hardly gets a word in edgewise. He is, absolutely gloriously, playing discussion moderator instead of lecturer. Hob knows, feels it in his gut even now, that he will look back on this as one of the best classes he’s ever held. Students are twisting around in their chairs to engage with each other.
It is, he thinks, absolutely worth a bit of murdering.
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zimms · 3 years
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an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 
fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels
Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 
(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)
Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 
Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”
The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”
Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 
“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 
Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 
“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”
Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”
“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 
“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 
“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 
“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 
Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”
Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 
“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”
“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 
“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”
“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”
Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 
(He fails.)
_X_
Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.
Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!
- Pacer 
Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 
Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”
Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 
However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 
_X_
Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 
It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 
“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 
Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”
The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”
(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.
Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)
_X_
ollie
hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!
let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!
also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?
pacer
thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?
ollie
sounds like a plan!!
_X_
When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 
_X_
ollie
oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark
pacer
yeah, half my face is swollen
ollie
yikes
pacer
i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?
even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner
ollie
that was a very weird way of putting it
but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball
_X_
A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”
Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”
He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.
ollie
jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you
pacer
oh?
ollie
yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you
especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??
so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules
pacer
maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?
isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?
Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.
don’t push it
_X_
He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 
“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”
Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”
_X_
Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.
“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 
He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 
He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”
“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 
Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 
Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”
Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”
“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.
Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.
Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”
Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”
His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 
“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.
“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.
Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”
_X_
The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 
“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”
Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”
“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”
“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”
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thequibblah · 3 years
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directors cut for WTRF? 🥺👉👈 not biased at all obviously just objective third party asking for a directors cut hmmm hmmmmm
literally how could u do this every other word in that fic is an easter egg i can't shut up about..... bestie u are about to have regrets
one thing u should know is that 90% of things in this fic have real-world equivalents and its not even like....... hidden equivalents. serie primo = serie a, for instance. this trend is going to continue and i won't apologise <3
fun fact i named the bar the Bar and the drinks after shapes because i was too lazy to come up with something actually clever
this bit
I’m grinning to myself by the time she approaches my table.
was a very intentional fakeout and if you read this and thought "she" would be lily, feel free to sue me for emotional damages
the biggest conundrum of this AU was, how are jily not going to have met in school when magic exists? the solution was, of course, having multiple magic schools. but i couldn't let one of them have hogwarts, that didn't seem fair. i know i did sort of let lily have it..... but i felt more comfortable making hogwarts a university so there was a legit reason why james wasn't there and in gryffindor (if he'd gone he absolutely would have been)
once solved, i did the fun thing of naming them! ottaline gambol's was easy, i just scrolled through the list of ministers for magic and picked a progressive one. peverell hall was a whim, made all the funnier when lily's reaction is:
Much was made at Otty’s — one of the more progressive magical schools, named for one of the more progressive Ministers of Magic — of schools like Peverell Hall and St. George’s. The latter, I know, is chock-full of pureblooded elite. Peverell Hall is supposed to be slightly better, but still.
dang, it's gonna be funny if she ever finds out james is a descendant of the guy it's named after
fun fact, i included this because peter's question was a real thought i had when reading bond and free, your inspiring writing knows no limits:
The first thing you conjure in Walking Wombat is a yellow quill... “Why yellow?” Peter asked. Eddie gave him a strange look. “Why not?”
i realised i'd put jily in the same conundrum they had in tis the fucking season here:
It’s only then that I remember she’s just bought us drinks. I turn back to my triangle. “Oh, shit.” I suppose I can pawn it off on one of the others.
...but of course the resolution is rather different, and i do so enjoy a james with no filter (aka default james)
I briefly lose control of my brain and my tongue. “Is it too soon to say I’m in love with you?”
by the way, no-filter james will be a theme. wild things sure do run fast but not as fast as this boy runs his mouth!
also, another interesting challenge here was making sure james has a reason to be the way he is in AU. i love playing around with james's childhood/background and seeing how that affects his character while (hopefully!) staying true to who he is. i did that in ttfs by having him move around a lot and not meet the marauders until after the flashback timeline, which is why he's less of a git — he doesn't have the level of comfort in a social setting that canon james has with hogwarts, which is basically his playground from day 2 of first year lol
here, james was probably a fkn nightmare all through school, but of course he gets a big ego check when his quidditch career is derailed. i imagine his years in italy as a continuation of that humility lesson.
I will fully admit I used to be a cocky prick. This is what comes of being a kid who grew up with everything. But one useful thing that the whole fiasco four years ago taught me is humility. I’ve learned how to ask nicely for another chance.
and so much of writing him in wtrf is juggling that typical confidence with the insecurity/fear of losing something he's invested so much in (and has seen slip away before). it's really new to me, because typically i give lily uncertain life circumstances, but i suppose it's both of them in this AU.
the car thing was... i swear didn't start out as smutty, it was purely because i wanted a way to establish lily as muggleborn in a world where the connotations of not having magical parents is very different. more to come on that!
also, come to think of it, by this metric...
I’m now in dangerous territory, since that adds another impressive action to her running tally.
...i think james is already in love with her LOL
this bit:
The street is considered indecent and the downstairs hallway would have our landlady come running at once, so if it pleases Your Honour, we would recommend the sitting room sofa.
...was actually because in draft one lily was a lawyer, but then it was funny enough that i didn't want to take it out, but NOW i realise it makes it sound a little like she's addressing james as your honour, which.... hm. but anyway, we move on
Marc Bolan begs us to get it on through the stereo, vocalising my thoughts exactly.
the song here was initially "you shook me" (h/t @keepingupwithpotters) but i chickened out because zeppelin is SO horny dfjkhgkjs
also, it gave me so much joy to read everyone reacting to lily thinking about her ex (the general vibe was "who the fuck is this guy!!! ew!!!!") — rest assured (or, unassured??) that he has a part to play in all this. anyway, this is one of my fave lines:
He’s just a person, and there’s such a relief in sleeping with James and not the myth of a guy.
because as any come together reader knows....
Just James. Just James. It was never just James.
wtrf lily will learn!
literally the whole world knows i'm obsessed with needle drops that have no subtlety at all, but this one...
We just laugh, tangled together in a sweaty heap, as “Heaven Is in the Back Seat of My Cadillac” plays through the car’s speakers. “On the nose, isn’t it?” James says, sitting up.
...was pure luck, because i was looking up the top hits on the uk singles chart for the week(ish) this scene takes place in so that i could find a song that would realistically play on the radio, saw this, and was like omg the stars really do align
i feel like the thing i enjoy most about writing romance is the importance i get to place in noticing/looking/observing (and sometimes, not noticing!). it's just such a powerful but simple writerly tool, and god knows i am obsessed with pithy descriptions anyway, so this bit i am especially happy with:
James is already waiting, leaning against the car with his hands in his pockets. I feel as though I’m seeing him for the first time, the faint light of the flickering streetlamp catching him in profile: the strong slope of his nose, the hard line of his jaw, the curve of his smile. He studies the facade of our building with open curiosity, and I wonder what he’s looking for.
(one can only imagine james's train of thought in this moment. perhaps "ah. here lives the future love of my life"?)
“Thanks,” she tacks on at the end. I tip my head to one side in confusion. “For what?” “For, I don’t know. Being nice.” She laughs awkwardly. “I don’t do this very much.”
it wouldn't be a quibblah original tee em without some discourse to come about the nature of romantic/sexual relationships, would it? one thing i enjoy about this AU ("one thing" i say as if this isn't the billionth thing in a list) is that i get to write a romantic lily who's squaring that romanticism with what she perceives as the culture of the times. (this is a bit of a staple in all my characterisations of lily, but it is not often paired with casual sex, the complication of all complications!)
oh this bit literally wrote itself like i didn't even pause to think just vomited it out:
In the morning — and it must be early still — the sun streams through Lily’s sorry excuses for curtains with aggression that cannot be ignored. I crack open an eye to find myself sprawled out across her bed, quite literally spread-eagled. She’s attached to my side like a barnacle. Or a very pretty barnacle, anyway.
i'm especially proud of james's voice in this story. i don't often write first-person fic and i was worried how it'd turn out, but i think james as a character/narrator typically colours his own 3rd-person narration so strongly that it ended up a smoother transition than i'd feared!
also i just. i can't resist throwing in comic relief and i hope that this whole segment was a gentle enough preparation for the awkwardness that followed LOL
All of a sudden, the balcony door bursts open. I nearly drop the mug. “What the—” Mary pokes her head around the corner, sporting a righteous smile. “Morning, handsome.” Over her shoulder she shouts, “He’s on the balcony!” I blink. There’s a sound from inside the flat, as if something very large has just been dropped. Then a swear. “Oh, shit,” I say, realisation dawning, “you weren’t looking for me, were you? It’s so loud out here—” Mary cups a hand around her mouth and stage-whispers, “Lily was frantic.” She’s quite violently yanked back, and Lily herself appears in the doorway, slightly out of breath. “Should’ve checked the balcony first,” she says, and closes the door before Mary can insert herself into the space again. “Hi,” I say, which is agreed-upon best practice for greeting a woman you’ve just had fantastic sex with and ideally would like to have sex with again.
to this day i don't know what lily dropped. let's hope it wasn't expensive!
Captained the under-17 English squad at the World Cup some years back, Serie Primo’s lead goal-scorer of last year… Only an injury in what should’ve been his first season at Puddlemere mars his record. I wince reading about it and comparing it to a heap of press clippings. James Potter was hurt, and Puddlemere didn’t fancy paying for him not to play, so they shipped him off to Milan.
(you cannot imagine how much pointed interrogation of my brother it took to gather this intel.) i constantly worry that i've got dates or timelines wrong somehow — you might notice i tweaked under-17, which used to be under-19 until i realised that made no sense (even though in terms of its career importance i would much preferred it to have been u-19.... anyway). i also found out that u-17 football squads don't actually have captains but i said fuck it on that count.
but obviously i started writing this AU for the sports possibilities, only to discover i'm going to have to interfere a great deal with the Timeline (you shall see in future instalments).
god i really went through the whole fic. like i reread the whole thing to do this. here u go clare jfbghjfd
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fmsdraws · 4 years
Note
if i may ask, what was the planned (if it was) story for aucu story mode?
Right, I forgot to write about that. Thanks for this opportunity, though, might as well get it out of my chest. It’s been almost a year since I promised this anyway, so...
AU Crossfire Ultimate: What it could have been
(Note: Just because I’m putting this out in the open, it doesn’t mean I want people taking all of this and doing their own AU Crossfire Ultimate. Please don’t do that to yourself.)
Here’s some of the important links I had for AU Crossfire Ultimate. 
Character Ludography (the AU ludography was eventually repurposed for the AU Ludography we all know and love.)
I had also made a first draft of AU Crossfire’s first chapter, so here:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DWBZDUdcUDkU12QU1ztgYR8ZLrZoi0k2g0YShQiiXzg/edit?usp=sharing
The Setting
The RestAUrant listed at the beggining was actually an idea I’d hatched long ago back in 2017. It was then picked up by Mil as a location for her self-insert-ish AU: AUversal Lockdown, which is run by Catms (great name, I know). At the time of writing this, it has not been featured in the AU itself, but I’m certain we’ll get there eventually.
The way I envisioned AU Crossfire Ultimate’s setting was a jumble of iconic locations in both Undertale and its AUs. End pretty much had merged all of the multiverse into one Mt. Ebott, so there was a lot of potential for stuff.
Areas like the Ruins were going to, for one, be considerably larger, and feature a lot of elements from AUs (think flowers from Inverted Fate Asgore’s garden, or Old CORE mechanisms from StorySwap Color in the same room). 
There were also some original locations like the circus, in which the characters would fight Rainbow Gay Jevil Sans (this is not a drill) to rescue the deltarune gang. I even wrote a scene about it in a spur of inspiration.
Oh, but the thing also was that there was no barrier; the only exit was guarded by a buttload of copies of the characters (spirits and stuff), along with some dark purple thingies- I don’t really remember what they were. So it wasn’t like they couldn’t escape, it was just a death sentence to do it on your own.
The Antagonist
So, pretty much the idea was to have AU Crossfire’s Story to take after World of Light and subspace emmisary, the main antagonist was known as “End”, a being that had a buttload of power.
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I did have an origin story planned for them, but being honest, their original backstory wasn’t that interesting. A being created by the resentment and hate AU Creators have toward their own work, a being hellbent on destroying everything. They couldn’t be as easily taken out by someone the likes of hyperdeath Asriel on their own.
The idea was to have them as this eeerie being like tabuu that spoke through its actions. But then I never really went anywhere with AUCU.
I’ve since reworked them for another one of my AUs, but for which one, I’ll leave up to you.
The Story
The general idea I had for the story was, like I said, world of light with the general idea of subspace emissary. What that meant was that the cast of characters was split into “teams”. 
The team leaders (survivors of the first attack that fucked everyone up) were Paper Frisk (of course), Core Frisk, and Napstablook (who didn’t go to the tournament at all, he had just stayed home, but when he woke up, he saw the world had been torn up so he tried to help). There were other survivors, but I can’t remember them off the top of my head. 
They’d go around freeing other fighters, and they’d develop group dynamics. Eventually, after they knock some sense into the bosses, they would get some of them to team up. Some of the bosses which I had ideas for were Petey from Undertoad, Mechdyne (which was being controlled by other peeps instead of IFdyne), and some others I can’t think of.
The groups would begin to meet up and go onto becoming an “AU army” that was trying to get out of Mt. Ebott.
The reason I didn’t feature characters like Ink or Error was because I felt they couldn’t really add anything to the story back when I didn’t really know much about them. ... I still don’t really think the outcome would’ve been changed that much, but in hindsight, I’d imagine Error would’ve been a neat boss that joins the team to spite End.
The characters would get together, and do an all-out attack on End to finish the fight once and for all. Here’s a pic I had made to illustrate the scene.
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With all that being said...
Why did you not want to keep working on AUCU?
So first off it was a pain to even get the roster figured out. From day one, it was always nitpicked to hell and back.
And back then I was more prone to trying to please everyone, so I’d make changes to the roster on a constant basis, not enough to let me figure out. It went from “Why so many humans” to “when are we getting deltarune reps?”, or “no one knows these AUs, why do you include them?”
It was a lot of stress to deal with, and to this day, I still get people nitpicking on it a year or so after its cancellation. It took a heavy toll on my mental health.
The roster was also unfathomably large before being cut down, but even then I couldn’t have realistically given every character enough screentime for them to matter. I think that I can understand why Sakurai went with everyone being silent in brawl; it’s hell to write that many characters, and I understand why he went with WoL in Ultimate. 
Along with the nitpicks, people asking so dang much for Ink and Error, I lost the will to keep doing it. Thus, it sat on dev hell until I decided to delete the blog.
... That being said, I cannot be thankful enough for all the creators that I reached out to that actually replied to my questions about the characters, I actually met a lot of people this way, so if anything I can thank AU Crossfire Ultimate for that.
I cannot undermine the positive side of making AUCU too, I got to have a lot of back and forth with the community in general. Along with it allowing me to learn how to do sprite posing because boy I had to that a LOT. I also learned how to do much better posing in general, so there’s that.
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With all that being said, I feel as though I am finally able to move on from AUCU. It taught me a lot, and something that I don’t think I’ll forget when trying to make these ambitious AU Crossover styled things: 
Don’t go overboard from the get-go, start simple, and have a clear focus of what you want to do, and what’s your end goal.
The End
With all that being said, I don’t think I’ll ever be making another AU crossover that’s as big as AU Crossfire. 
I think that I’d rather do something a bit more simple than th-
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... Ah shit, here we go again.
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xianglingslesbian · 4 years
Note
spiderzuki hehehehhe and the extras for uhm ewbts!!!!!
EHEHEHE SEB KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT TO ASK <33 it got long so CUT
spider-zuki
izuki is spider-man. hanamiya is his whiny sidekick who eats spiderwebs. also izuriko bc i’m Like That TM
see this AU cannot be put in words so i’m going to add snippets:
“So...” Izuki said slowly. “You... you... know. About... my thing.”
Hanamiya nodded, still glaring. “I wanted it, you rheum-covered piece of excreta.”
That’s him, Officer! yelled the tiny spider in his head. That’s the web-eating fucker! And by the way, my name is Kumo.
“The web-eating what,” Izuki said out loud. “Also, that’s a pretty good pun.”
Fucker! Haven’t you ever heard a swear word?! And yes, it is.
“Are you talking to your spide-kick?!” Hanamiya demanded. “What’s he saying?! And how the fuck do you know I eat webs?!”
”My what.”
Don’t fucking gender me! snapped Kumo in Izuki’s head. Izuki ignored it (them?) in favour of Hanamiya’s last words sinking in.
How the fuck do you know I eat webs?!
“You eat what now?!” he shrieked.
“Webs. Keep up, eagle boy, or you’re never gonna make a good Spider-Man.”
“A good what?”
“Is this entire conversation going to be just you saying, ‘what?’, or...” Hanamiya examined his nails. Kumo remained suspiciously silent save for something that sounded a little too much like a snort.
Izuki had never wanted to punch anyone so much in his whole life.
Izuki, 23.07: Hanamiya Fucking Makoto
Izuki, 23.07: did you fucking fill the Oreos with spiderwebs again
Izuki, 23.07: I BITE INTO A COOKIE WHILE STUDYING AND I FIND SPIDERWEBS, YOU GODDAMN TURD
Izuki, 23.07: I NEEDED THE SUGAR RUSH AND INSTEAD I GET WEBS
Izuki, 23.07: I KNOW YOU’RE ONLINE
Hanamiya: read 23.07
Izuki, 23.09: FUCKING ANSWER ME YOU LITTLE BASTARD
Izuki, 23.09: YOU WEB CRAPPER
Izuki, 23.09: YOU SPIDER FETISHMAN
Hanamiya, 23.09: ...that last one... I’m listening...
Hanamiya, 23.10: also, thats a total of 300 yen to the swear jar, you little rapscallion :3
Izuki, 23.10: FUCKING FUCK YOU
Hanamiya, 23.10: that’s another 200~
--
Izuki, 23.11: Hey Coach?
Izuki, 23.11: I finally get what it’s like to be the one with common sense
Riko, 23.11: <3
”What the fuck is Hanamiya doing here?” asked Hyuuga incredulously. Izuki shrugged.
“He’s my pet cryptid. He likes eating webs and stuff.”
“It’s pet arachnid,” corrected Hanamiya wearily, “get it right.”
Izuki nodded. Hyuuga blinked. Then blinked again.
“Please tell me I misheard you. Both of you.”
Izuki grimaced. Hanamiya smiled happily. It was the most terrifying thing Hyuuga had ever seen.
"I kin shpiders," said Hanamiya through a mouthful of web. Izuki eyed him doubtfully. 
Sure, if we ate our own webs, said Kumo in his mind. Izuki ignored the tiny spider and continued to look at Hanamiya with doubt and some worry.
"That could be toxic." 
"Eagle boy, the only toxic bitch in this room is me. Got it?" 
“Technically I’m Spider-boy now,” Izuki pointed out, and Hanamiya turned purple.
“DON’T FUCKING REMIND ME--”
"Who am I kidding, Hanamiya? I'm not a hero." Izuki let out a soft, derisive laugh, staring at his hands. "I'm just a teenage boy who got bitten by a radioactive spider and can do some stuff because of it. I'm just a background piece... I can't be hero material. I'm not brave, or strong, or valiant, or even cool. I make stupid puns and I'm not even good at the things I love. I can stick to things and I'm stronger than I used to be. That doesn't make me what I thought I could be. But then again, I've always been a bit of a delusional fool." His voice dropped, soft and low and sad, and his eyes were glistening with tears.
holy shit that went from 0 - 100 real fast anyway hope u enjoyed the cRaCk
ewbts extras
ok buckle in bc there are quite a few of these
best served cold - himuro, and his thoughts after the yousen match and after he [spoiler for ewbts] calls izuki
and you keep running like the sky is falling - the hyuuga-izuki fight *cries* it’s pretty nasty and awful. it’s actually a deleted scene from the verrrrry first draft of ewbts so it never made it onto ao3 but i liked it enough to keep it! i need to highkey edit and polish, and lengthen too, tho ;w;
shenpointigans - izuki/takao/kasamatsu groupchat. lowkey inspired by @moriizuki's pg for pretty gay as many of my chatfics are tbh it’s a work of art
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 03.37: do you guys think stars have feelings
eagle-i, 03.37: its 3 fucking am, blocked
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 03.38: then why are you up
eagle-i, 03.38: the gd notifs
eagle-i, 03.38: no-tifications. im turning them off and go to sleep or i’ll kill you
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 03.39: ...how do you manage to make such shitty puns even when someone wakes you up
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 03.39: shun senpai?
--
kasamatsu, 07.49: why are you up at 3am don’t you know 8 hours of sleep is important for teens
eagle-i, 07.50: YES KASAMOMTSU SENPAI IS RITE
eagle-i, 07.50: and did you just call my puns shitty
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 07.53: i did. i shit you not. im sorry shun senpai dont kill me
eagle-i, 07.54: ......................forgiven
kasamatsu, 08.00: i am not a mom
eagle-i, 08.01: ok mom
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 08.01: ok mom
kasamatsu, 08.02: i hate you kids so much
eagle-i changed kasamatsu’s nickname to certified mom
certified mom, 08.03: fuck
certified mom, 08.04: and also takao i dont think a ball of gas can have feelings but whatever makes u happy ig
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 08.05: wow thats mean
eagle-i, 08.06: hey kazu i think stars have feelings!
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 08.06: rlly?!?!? ur the best
eagle-i, 08.07: yes. feelings. particularly. burning desire
eagle-i, 08.07: geddit. burning
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 08.08: .....i hate you 
certified mom, 08.08: i dont get it
certified mom, 08.08: didnt you just say you loved izuki half a minute ago takao?
they call me a snacc bc im a taco, 08.09: never change kasa senpai, never change
and yeah thats it!! i do have a couple more extras in mind but i havent made docs for them yet so they’re unlisted <3 thanks for the ask!!!
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bing-fucker · 4 years
Text
Winter Wolf Syndrome
This was requested by someone but I genuinely cannot remember their URL, I’m so sorry.
I am... so sorry this took forever. I kept getting distracted by things and then losing motivation and anyway I’m so sorry. I meant to save the original ask as a draft but I accidentally posted it and then had to delete it so I’m sorry for that.
To explain for anyone who is new, the Shifter AU is an alternate universe where all of the egos are animal shapeshifters and share certain characteristics with those animals, like their mating season and their height is generally influenced by the animal, like Jameson being small because he’s a rabbit or Jackie being tall because he’s a grey wolf. Most of the egos keep certain physical characteristics in their human form, for example both Jackie and Silver keep their ears and tails and Silver keeps his eyes like a fox’s.
And as much as I would adore to make Silver a literal silver fox, in general I imagine him as albino in my AUs (I genuinely have no idea why I do, to be honest, but I think it has something to do with I like his appearance to have a similar aesthetic to his suit) so he will be an albino red fox. He’s also trans, as usual for my AUs, because I make all the characters I relate to trans.
Jackie’s nickname for Silver, vix, is a shortening of vixen. Jackie uses it because it’s also used for flirtatious women, and he has specific permission from Silver to use it for him.
Henrik’s german line “Ich möchte mich recht herzlich bedanken” means “I would like to thank you sincerely.” It’s a formal way of saying thank you when someone has helped you a lot, and Henrik is definitely thankful for not having to deal with Jackie anymore.
Warning: Mating cycles, rough sex, slight aggression, use of cunt and clit to refer to a transman’s genitalia, slight breeding kink, fingering, mating press position, scratching, dirty talk, biting. As always, ask me to add any necessary warnings!
Silver hadn’t visited Jackie yet. It was mid February, smack in the middle of Silver’s own mating season but still pretty early in Jackie’s. As much as he would have loved to be able to visit his mate in the past month and a half, he’d gotten busy with helping Dark with their plans and fighting crime. Silver felt bad about it, honestly. Jackie always had it worse during his mating season than Silver did.
Silver groaned as he awoke to his phone ringing on the bedside table. It’d been a long day and he’d finally managed to get to sleep, only to be woken up twenty minutes later by his phone blaring. Silver groaned again and rolled over, grabbing his phone and answering without bothering to even check the caller ID.
“Hallo. Did I wake you?” Silver sat up at the German accent on the other end of the phone. In general, Silver didn’t talk to Henrik a lot. He and the crow could be considered acquaintances, but they never actively sought each other out. So either Henrik was bored out of his mind and everyone he usually spoke to was asleep or otherwise occupied or something was wrong.
“Schneep? Is something wrong?” Silver asked, all sense of sleepiness gone.
“Sort of. Can you come over? Jackie is getting a bit...”
“Much to deal with?” Silver finished for him, sighing deeply. “Okay. I’ll be right over. Try to keep him calm until then, okay?”
“I will certainly do my best,” Henrik replied, sighing as well. “Ich möchte mich recht herzlich bedanken.”
“Anytime,” Silver replied, setting his phone to the side after Henrik hung up. He didn’t know German, but he’d heard Henrik thank people enough times to know the gist of what it meant. Silver sighed and climbed out of bed to get dressed.
-
Silver could hear Jackie’s howling from outside the front door and he was pretty sure it was hell to Jackie’s housemates. Although Silver didn’t mind, and he couldn’t help the thrill of arousal that show up his spine at the sound. Jackie wasn’t really much for howling, especially not in his human form. If Jackie was howling, he was desperate.
Silver knocked awkwardly on the front door. It took about fifteen seconds before a very pissed off pit bull opened the door. Chase’s eyes were rimmed with dark bags and his ears were flat against his head.
“Hi, Chase,” Silver greeted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head.
“You’re late,” Chase grumbled, glaring up at the fox.
“I came as quick as I could after Schneep called-”
“You’re about a month and a half late, my dude. Fuckin’ dick has destroyed the kitchen twice now.”
“Oh. Uh. Can I just... go up to him?”
“Please do,” Chase agreed, stepping away from the door and gesturing for Silver to go. “And shower next time, we can all smell your heat a mile away.”
“I woke up thirty minutes ago, Brody, give me a break,” Silver grumbled, pushing past the shorter man and making his way up to Jackie’s room quickly.
“Are you going to let me in or do I have to sit outside all night listening to you scream?” Silver asked, knocking on the door to Jackie’s bedroom. Jackie’s melodramatic howling quickly stopped as he opened the door, immediately dragging Silver into the room and hugging him as tight as he could.
“Hello to you, too, wolfy,” Silver greeted, biting his lip gently as Jackie pressed his face against Silver’s throat and gently dragged his teeth against the sensitive skin.
“You’re a jerk,” Jackie grumbled, nuzzling the smaller man lovingly.
“I know,” Silver replied, moving one hand to rub Jackie’s back. “I’m sorry, love. I never meant to be gone for so long.”
“It’s okay, vix,” Jackie replied, pulling away slightly to pull Silver’s shirt off before kissing down his chest. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”
“Mm, me too,” Silver agreed, gently running his hand through Jackie’s hair. Jackie nodded and gently licked one of Silver’s nipples, drawing a soft moan from the fox.
“Your housemates aren’t too happy with you,” Silver commented, gently pushing Jackie away and pulling off his jeans. Jackie grinned and quickly shoved his boxers off, laying in the center of his bed. Silver grinned lightly and pulled his own boxers off before climbing onto the bed and straddling Jackie’s hips.
“I said I was sorry about the kitchen,” Jackie grumbled, gently placing his hands on Silver’s hips and leaning up in tandem with Silver leaning down to meet him in a kiss. Silver grinned and rested his hands on Jackie’s shoulders, carefully shifting to a more comfortable position as they kissed.
It was, perhaps, a bit sadistic of him, but he liked knowing that Jackie was desperate for him. Jackie was almost always firm and in control of himself and his desires. It was flattering in a way for Silver to know that his absence had caused this much desperation- even if it was really just because of the mating season.
Jackie moaned softly into the kiss, running one hand up Silver’s back into his hair and the other down past the curve of Silver’s ass and down to his cunt. Silver whined softly as Jackie pushed a finger into him, pulling away from the kiss to breathe and panting heavily. Jackie grinned and licked his lips, looking up at Silver and slowly pushing another finger into him.
“I knew you were as desperate as me,” Jackie breathed, crooking his fingers and rubbing them against Silver’s inner walls in a way he knew would make the younger superhero collapse against his chest, which he predictably did. Silver whined softly, pressing his forehead against Jackie’s shoulder and rocking down against his hips.
“This is a really awkward angle for my wrist,” Jackie commented, although he couldn’t find it in himself to shift to a more comfortable position with Silver’s soft breathe against his throat like it was. Silver whimpered and shifted, grinding his hips back against Jackie’s fingers and his cock.
“Ah, fuck,” Jackie hissed, jerking his hips up against Silver and pulling his fingers out of him quickly. Silver whined unhappily, clenching around nothing desperately. “You’re getting slick all over me, you know.”
“Don’t care,” Silver breathed, gently biting Jackie’s throat and sucking a dark mark into it. Jackie growled and quickly shifted positions, pushing Silver onto the bed and forcing him into a mating press position.
“Why do you always choose the most uncomfortable positions?” Silver asked, whimpering as Jackie teasingly rubbed the head of his cock against Silver’s clit.
“Genuinely? You relax more when you’re uncomfortable because you don’t want to get hurt,” Jackie replied, grinning and leaning down to kiss Silver’s nose. “it’s like yoga. Plus, I really want to breed you right now, vix.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Silver breathed, arching his back with a moan as Jackie thrust his hips against him. “Stop teasing and fuck me, Jackie.”
“Gladly,” Jackie growled, grinning wolfishly before thrusting his cock into Silver and moaning. Silver gasped and moaned loudly, arching his back and rocking down against Jackie’s cock desperately.
Jackie growled darkly and quickly started fucking Silver, thrusting as fast and hard as he could. Silver moaned loudly, scratching down Jackie’s back harshly as the wolf fucked him. Jackie groaned and leaned down, biting Silver’s shoulder sucking harshly to make a large mark on Silver’s pale skin.
“Fuck, vix,” Jackie growled, gripping Silver’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Gonna breed you so fucking good, vix. And mark you so everyone knows you’re mine. All mine.” Silver moaned in response and arched his back, tightening around Jackie as he came. Jackie growled and thrust into Silver brutally for a few more minutes, his hips stuttering until he finally slammed his knot into Silver’s cunt and came, biting the fox’s throat and sucking a large, dark mark into it.
Silver relaxed against the bed, breathing heavily and moaning very faintly at the feeling of Jackie filling him before he spoke. “Fuck, Jackie,” Silver whimpered, reaching up to feel the bruise on his throat Jackie left. “I’m gonna need a scarf to cover this up.”
“Don’t cover it,” Jackie replied, very carefully moving Silver’s legs back onto the bed and snuggling closer to the fox. “Let everyone see. Mine.”
“Yours,” Silver agreed, rubbing Jackie’s back gently when the other man started thrusting his hips again. “Wait, wolfy. Wait for your knot to shrink before we can go for round two.”
Jackie whined unhappily but stopped moving regardless, snuggling closer to Silver. “Sleep, then. Round two after.”
Silver laughed and nodded, pressing his head against Jackie’s shoulder and settling in to sleep. After all, he had been waken up less than an hour ago to rush over. Jackie grinned lightly and kissed Silver’s nose after the fox fell asleep before he snuggled closer and went to sleep himself.
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advernia · 4 years
Text
push me off a bridge (to catch me as i fall)
a separate post for my ramblings for this fic!! it’s actually the longest thing i’ve written in a while, so i have a lot to ramble about haha;;
prelude
oh man... this started when two of my friends decided to go through edgar’s route at the same time AND also decided to go reacting to every single part of the route through burst texting AT THE SAME TIME, effectively flooding my inbox.... they were fully aware that i was at a seminar and unable to reply... now my inbox is filled with so much edgar screaming i cannot... (゜▽゜;)
screaming aside they were also very willing to read whatever drafts of edgar/mc i had available and this was their favorite!! thanks to them, i decided to finish this omfg... i’m actually so proud that i got this done but tbh it was getting so long that i had half a mind to let go of it already halfway through scene three haha... (;*△*;)
this has uh... some fighting scenes and tbh the first draft had absolutely none of it... this is my first time actually writing long(?) scenes and while i found thinking about them to be fun, putting them into words was some struggle??? like... i've been told that it looks okay but idk it feels clunky to me. oh well \|  ̄ヘ ̄|/
general stuff + war phase, baby!
initially this was only meant to be 3 parts + primarily focused on edgar/mc + with an unnamed mc as usual! but then since it’s an au of kyle’s route, i found myself wanting to flesh out the relationship of edgar & mc when set in a different angle + circumstances rather than just automatically implying attraction...
plus their relationship canonically starts off on the wrong foot in that route & edgar’s fully aware that mc isn’t exactly comfortable around him, so it really doesn’t sit well if i just... put them together, lol. so thus we have five scenes of them getting(?) closer!(???)
in short its a hella slow burn and not gonna lie, when i was writing their scenes i was like f i n a l l y... bless... ಠ ּ͜೦
one of the reasons i like kyle’s route is bc i actually got some feel of an actual war??? idk i think there’s so much plot that u can fill in with it, so i decided going for alternating scenes of the battlefield + med tent. while there's glimpses of the action going on, there’s also the sort of complimenting(???) or offsetting more emotional perspective of what goes on with the medics. 
tbh i stared long and hard at the cradle map when formulating some tactics and i gotta say i had a hard time calming myself down bc... 
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in kyle’s route, the red army has the advantage and have pushed the black army as far back as to their bridge, which means that more or less they’ve occupied central quarter... but what dawned on me was... where the hell did the red army position their encampment from there??? 
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was an encampment even necessary given that they’re like, in a really convenient area????? they probably could’ve settled themselves in some houses but tbh okay maybe it isn’t so noble of the reds to do (imposing themselves n’ stuff) + they have larger numbers so accommodating all of them is a problem but still... where’d they set up camp??? u see, when kyle + mc step out of the med tent it shows the forest bg, so... where??? on the edges of the central quarter area are where u can see them trees??? on the civic center roof?!?!
well... a decent answer is that they could’ve set up several encampments around the area to ensure their hold on the central quarter... it still raises some questions but honestly it makes a lot more sense... but if not and they really decided to camp out like one big happy family all together, then don’t even get me started on the possibility that the camp was stationed somewhere around here:
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because doing that doesn’t have a single lick of sense omfg especially tactics-wise haha... that’s like... why would you do that... you’re wasting all your advantages... o h  b o y... so you bet when i remembered that mc + loki had to pass by a forest to get back to the encampment + encountered ray & some disciples i was like... u m m... why???? if technically the reds took hold of the whole central quarter area then it actually isn’t necessary to skulk around in the forest?????? yes yes i know safety precautions + avoiding detection but... dood... it’s safer to walk in claimed territory rather than the unstable one ahaha...
plus the thing about the black bridge... uh... it's just said in the route that lancelot handles it through magic and that's all. but when i thought back on it oh my god... what did he do??????? how is he still standing??? how much of his lifespan did he shave off just to salvage that situation??????????? how is the poor boi alive?????????? the whole fucking bridge literally falls apart and that's a whole lot of chaos and people and AHHHHH!?!?!¿¿¿¿ if ur gonna make the bridge collapse (good thing they didn't think of disintegrate) it probably cost the magic tower a hefty amount but get rekt lancelot still saves the fucking day, what a king - he's practically got one foot in the grave already... this dood, seriously ಥ_ಥ
there were other things i noticed in the process of writing this based on the route events but i was like fuck it, let’s think on that another day and leave it as it is (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻ ily kyle but oh no my brain started reprocessing the other details of ur route
thinking about all that also made me think of other more stuff, like cradle economy + livelihood haha;; it’s stated in edgar’s route (well... it’s actually pretty obvious in other routes too) that the reds are richer than the blacks, so i went ahead and assumed that the former engages in something more lucrative like mining -> jewerly / raw material / mineral trade, while for the latter something more wholesome like agriculture. idk, it works. even moreso that the reds give off the whole nobility vibe while the blacks are simple and casual. even the bg screens of the red & black streets are polarizing.
then i also went over the rest of the chosen thirteen... while the reds show no obvious weapon variety (see: swords), i’d like to believe that they’re taught to be versatile enough no matter what the situation. plus, since they have the funding, i'd like to think they're skilled in magic manipulation, too. meanwhile the black army shows weapon variety, and i’d like to think that it’s because most of their recruits aren’t soldiers in the first place: they’re farmhands / hunters / village people turned soldiers, and it’s actually easier to let them go with what they know first before encouraging them or asking them to learn something new. thus axes and spears and possible unconventional stuff like caltrops.
crimson glory
one of the things i realized was in kyle’s route, mc isn’t exactly so buddy-buddy with the red crew in comparison to other routes. she gets minimal interactions with the four, and zero aside her relationships with the top three are rather... tense.
zero was the other red officer i was initially going to add aside from edgar & kyle, but i added all of them anyway. while they don't appear all together, all of them have scenes together with edgar.
the first edgar & jonah scene shows an obvious contrast - while he's being incredibly critical about it, jonah shows actual concern for the living situations in black army territory. on the other hand, edgar chooses to tease him about it, his joking more or less implying that he isn't that concerned / bothered about it at all. the game touches up on this sometimes, often with edgar commenting on how noble jonah is while jonah shows obvious distaste for edgar's callousness.
still, they work well together. personally i'm amused with a hc of mine that looking at how edgar fights / acts only spurs jonah to act more honorably while for edgar, being exposed to jonah's noble-ness more or less makes him curious to try being honorable from time to time lol. that still doesn't stop anyone from calling him the gentle demon tho ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )
tbh since edgar is obviously sneaky on other routes i wouldn't put it past him to casually pressure lancelot to tell him wtf's going on with this war when he gets the inkling that something's wrong. edgar goes about this subtly not-so-subtly and in the most polite manner possible. lancelot knows him far too well to take bait tho - he makes sure to speak carefully since he's probably knows that edgar's going to pick apart at his words for meanings + implications, so it more or less leaves edgar a bit frustrated since it's clear that lancelot won't tell him much. still, edgar knows when not to cross the line - even he's not so keen on getting on lancelot's bad side.
that aside, i'd like to think that edgar respects lancelot a lot as a person + commander enough that he'd truly risk his life for him on instinct like a true soldier would. while i think i could've done more on writing the gravity of the collapsing bridge scene, i liked the last bit where edgar + zero immediately worried for lancelot.
let's be honest here tho in some way or another all of the reds chosen worry about their king bc bruh... let us in bruh...
the scenes of zero & edgar in the end are also my favorite! it isn’t much, but enjoyed writing their relationship briefly. tbh i think edgar is one of those people under the sleep = most vulnerable = death thinking (no thanks to claudius), so the fact that he allows himself to drift to sleep twice in zero's company is a definite sign of trust. then again, he's injured but still ( ᐛ )و
edgar, idike, kyle
y’know even if this is an edgar/mc thing, i found fleshing out the kyle/mc relationship equally important which i presented in scene three. personally speaking, i’d like to think that if ever kyle didn’t fall in love with mc (on his own route???) he’d still be watching over her anyway since her struggle in the medical field + war reminds him a bit of his younger self after his brother's death.
which is why he doesn't intervene with that one soldier scene - he doesn't coddle her either when she goes into a brief shock. perhaps it's bc he knows so well what she's going through, he decides to let her handle it on her own. this was her experience, not his. and to be fair, she asked to go to the front lines determined but wholly unprepared emotionally. he tried warning her, she wouldn’t listen. now she faces the consequences - how would she go about it?
i decided to slap a name into mc this time to highlight the trust plot: idk if i got it clearly across in the fic, but in times of war + for someone who’s been trained to be suspicious / cautious of everyone like edgar; secrets are a surefire way to catch attention + breed distrust.
tbh he's hella aware that the secret around her name is most likely personal and nothing dangerous, but it's better safe than sorry - by making sure she understands that keeping secrets wouldn't be of any good to her + situation, he gets reassurance that she really is harmless. how bad + seriously she takes it honestly surprises him tho, but then again she's been going through other stuff too so it all piled up.
idike isn’t my in-game name, but it’s the given name i spoke of in this ask, haha! initially scene five has her saying her full name (with surname), but i thought it would be more fitting if i didn’t lol ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
i tried to incorporate a mix of the personalities of edgar’s!mc + kyle’s!mc onto idike, tho at first i was only shooting for the latter - i think it kinda works??? while somewhat composed and determined (kyle’s), she still shows some naivete in her (edgar’s), especially concerning the ways of war + how secrecy & trust work in times of war.
i found emphasizing on her emotional struggle important, since it should be a big blow for her who’s never known the terror of war. the game touches upon on it a bit (tho it's post-med tent scenes) and i wanted to expand on it further since there are so many possible angles to go about it.
the i can’t heal you if you’re dead line sounds like something like shiro emiya might say but lol no i just remembered this p3 manga panel (pg 24) - its been years since i read it and i still love that line and i integrated it here... i was trying to expand that one scene for a while but then i just left it as it is.
in the catharsis scene where idike airs out everything, the fact that edgar fails to empathize with her + focuses more on her emotional state rather than offering actual help (advice maybe, but i honestly doubt he’d do that) reflects that he's still looking at her as an interesting creature and not her as a person. part 5 hints that this may be slowly changing, seeing as he called for her all of a sudden.
... idike probably keeps edgar’s glove as a token of friendship or smth haha ooPSSS i forgot to bring that back ahahaha..... ヘ(。□°)ヘ
ooofff i guess that’s all i have??? a big thank you to whoever read both hot messes™ and by that the fic + commentary itself!!! do feel free to hit the inbox for any comments + questions + more brainstorming + general screaming haha! ( ´ ▽ ` )ノ
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birlcholtz · 7 years
Text
for the better
read it on Ao3 (part of the Zimbits Airport AU-verse) (I would recommend reading this on Ao3, actually, because of the formatting, but it’s here too for convenience) (also let me know if the link doesn’t work? bc i’m not 100% sure about it)
Jack’s been planning this day for a long time now. He even made a Twitter account for it, two months ago, and tweeted occasionally to build up a following (it was easier once he got that little check mark thing next to his handle). He has a few thousand followers, which is enough to get the message out, and he even has his tweet drafted.
The first draft of it was ‘hello everyone, I just wanted you to know that I am bisexual.’ Tater had taken one look at that and vetoed it. With every extra revision Jack suggested (adding an exclamation point, saying ‘you all’ instead of ‘you,’ et cetera, et cetera, et cetera), Tater had still shaken his head. So Jack took it to Georgia.
“I mean... it’s okay,” George had said, furrowing her brow at the screen. “It’s a little terse, though.”
“But I don’t need to say anything else to get the point across, do I?”
“Well, no. But it’s still very detached.”
Still, after a lot of reworking (and, okay, George does scrap that entire thing and make him start from scratch), they come up with something acceptable. Something that Jack might even say is good.
And then it all gets ruined at the last moment.
Monday morning at around ten o’clock (he’s been given the day off from practice to sort everything out), Jack opens up his Twitter account, intending to post the string of tweets that he and George have planned out, but the first thing he sees is a tweet from Kent.
Kent V. Parson @kparse
tired of all the marriage proposals from women, so i’m just gonna say it: i am both gay af and not taking offers of marriage at this time
Kent V. Parson @kparse
#sorrynotsorry for stealing ur thunder @jlzimmermann
Jack sighs and texts Georgia before composing a tweet as well.
Jack Zimmermann @jlzimmermann
disappointed in @kparse for ruining my announcement
Jack Zimmermann @jlzimmermann
he *did* already know i was going to come out as bi today, so this is quite rude
And then he leaves it like that and texts Georgia that he’s already gone ahead with the plan. She still hasn’t replied to the first one, so she’s probably either working out or so exasperated with him that she’s just decided not to reply. He also silences his phone, then texts Bitty, who’s back at Samwell.
Jack: I did it.
Bitty: congratulations!! <3 on twitter?
Jack: Yeah.
Bitty: you seem kind of put out?
Jack: Kent Parson came out before I did.
Bitty: hold on i’m going on twitter rn
Jack waits for a little while, long enough for Bitty to plausibly have read both Kent’s and his tweets, and then sends a text back.
Jack: Very rude of him. Now I can’t even be the first out player in the NHL.
Jack: That’s probably why he did it, to be honest. He likes being first.
Bitty: it might also work well for u, though
Bitty: take away some of the backlash maybe?
Jack: That’s true, but it doesn’t mean I can’t still be annoyed at him.
Bitty: yeah ofc, i would be too
Bitty: anyway i gtg to class so i’ll ttyl, take care of urself today ok?
Jack: Yeah.
Bitty: text me if u need anything, have a good day <3
Jack: You too <3
Bitty: :)
Georgia calls him about half an hour later and outlines the steps that the Falconers’ management are going to take, then promises to text him when they’ve released their statement and makes him promise to take care of himself today, just like Bitty. She also requests that he leave the apartment as little as possible, preferably not at all, so reporters don’t try to corner him in public. No sooner has she said goodbye and hung up than Jack hears knocking on his door. A glance through the peephole reveals it to be Snowy, Tater, and a case of beer, and he opens the door.
“Good job today, Zimmboni,” Tater says as soon as the door opens, shoving the beer into Snowy’s hands so that he can hug Jack. “Poots said to tell you he is proud. He is with trainer, pinched nerve. He will be here soon.”
“Everyone else is scrimmaging, or at least they were when we left,” Snowy adds as Tater releases Jack and steps past him into the apartment. “I don’t know if they saw us leaving and decided to let it go or genuinely didn’t notice.”
“They’re welcome to come over too once practice is over,” Jack says, stepping back to let Snowy in and then shutting the door. “But not before they’ve showered. Also, they should bring their own beer. I don’t have enough.”
Snowy nods. “I’ll text them.” He pulls out his phone and texts the rest of the Falconers, but then checks on something else and bursts out laughing.
“What?”
“Parson started a hashtag.”
“A hashtag?”
“Yup. A fucking hashtag.” Snowy shows Jack his phone screen.
Kent V. Parson @kparse
@jlzimmermann It had to be done. #StealJacksThunder
“Great,” Jack sighs.
“But that’s not all.”
“There’s more?”
Tater pokes his head out of the kitchen. “You are talking about hashtag, yes? Many people are using it.”
“Like who?” Jack asks. “And what are they doing with it?”
“Rob Jeffries from the Schooners did,” Snowy says before Tater can answer. “Jack, just check Twitter for yourself. There’s way too many of these for me to tell you all of them.”
Jack does.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles.
Rob Jeffries @rjeffriesnhl
@jlzimmermann Sorry, man. I’m bi too #StealJacksThunder
Las Vegas Aces @lasvegasaces
Proud of @kparse for starting his own hashtag. The Aces organization supports players no matter their orientation #StealJacksThunder
Aleks Olsen @aleksolsen
maybe not first out LGBTQ+ NHL player in league, but am first on Oilers & officially first out aro/ace NHL player #StealJacksThunder
Providence Falconers @pvdfalconers
The Falconers organization stands with & supports our LGBTQ+ players. Congrats @jlzimmermann for starting this whole thing
Las Vegas Aces @lasvegasaces
@pvdfalconers Excuse you, @kparse came out first
Providence Falconers @pvdfalconers
@lasvegasaces Excuse *you*, it was @jlzimmermann ‘s idea. Don’t try to #StealJacksThunder on our watch!
Besides the team Twitter accounts bickering with each other, it just goes on and on and on— NHL players deciding, on the spur of the moment, to come out on Twitter, and all of them using that same hashtag. The one that makes Jack almost drop his phone, though, is a string of tweets from someone he knows very well.
Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob
Extremely proud of my son @jlzimmermann for having the courage to show the world who he is. Cannot fully express how happy I am for him
Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob
There were LGBTQ+ players when I was in the NHL, there always have & always will be & now we are free to be ourselves
Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob
& say what you like @kparse but @jlzimmermann started this, u just made a hashtag :P
Bob Zimmermann @mrbadbob
I’m almost done I just have one more thing to say, and that is: sorry, son, I’m pansexual #StealJacksThunder
Jack looks up slowly, aware that both Snowy and Tater are staring at him. “My dad just came out as pan on Twitter. And he used the goddamn hashtag.”
“I love your dad,” Snowy says as Tater howls with laughter. “Oh, that reminds me.” He taps at his phone, and when he turns it off and puts it back in his pocket Jack checks his own— sure enough, Snowy has mentioned him in a tweet.
Aiden Snow @asnowynhl
@jlzimmermann im gay #StealJacksThunder #sorryjack
“God damn it, Snowy.” Jack doesn’t mention that as far as he knew, Snowy wasn’t out to anyone— him included— before just now. Maybe saying it through a screen is easier for him.
“At least I apologized in the tweet,” Snowy says. “Let’s open that beer, I suddenly have a need for one.”
They do pretty much nothing for the rest of the late morning and afternoon. Poots arrives about an hour after Snowy and Tater did, and the rest of the team barrels in through the door at around four, which is before practice was supposed to end. Jack doesn’t ask. They have, in fact, showered and brought their own alcohol. Jack turns on the TV and somehow finds his way to a TV show about hunting sasquatches, which works well as background noise, and every so often someone pulls out their phone and announces the latest NHL or ex-NHL player to have come out via Twitter. It’s an impressive list.
When there’s another knock on the door a little after six-thirty, Jack looks around, confused. Practically the entire roster is here, except Socks, who’s got a mild concussion and is staying home. Regardless, he gets up to answer it.
“Jack!” Bitty cries once the door opens, practically glomming onto him like a koala and wrapping his arms around Jack’s neck. “I saw the hashtag, and all the players, and your dad— how are you doing?”
“Okay, considering,” Jack says, holding Bitty up with one hand while he closes the door with the other. “I’ve only been looking at the hashtag, haven’t checked any of my mentions.”
“That’s probably smart,” Bitty says. “You can put me down.”
“Do you want me to put you down?”
Bitty considers. “Not really, but my arms are going to start hurting if I keep dangling off of you like this.”
Jack swings Bitty’s legs up so he’s in bridal style. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Fine, Zimmboni,” Tater shouts from the living room.
“How do you know I’m committing a fineable offense?” Jack yells back.
“Is obvious. Bitty is here.”
“Fair enough.”
Just then, a sasquatch-y howl emits from the other room— probably the TV. Bitty raises one eyebrow. “What on earth was that?”
“We’re watching a TV show on locating Bigfoot,” Jack says by way of explanation. “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense and the reenactments are awful but it’s a pretty good distraction.”
“We? How many people do you— don’t tell me, the entire Falconers roster.”
“Yeah. Except Socks— Sokolov. He’s staying home because of a concussion.”
“I must say I never took you for a partier, Mr. Zimmermann,” Bitty says, smiling up at him. “We’re just learning more and more about each other every day, aren’t we?”
“Oh, yeah. Friday evening I learned your deepest, darkest secrets, Saturday I learned how good of a baker you are, Sunday I learned your favorite color, and here we are now. Seems to me we’re doing things in reverse order.”
“Who said there had to be an order?”
“That’s true.”
Bitty nods towards the living room. “Let’s go that way. I want to see this sasquatch-hunting TV show.”
“As you wish.”
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