#im not proud of this even though this has been a wip for MONTHS

[kazumist]

ARTISTIC BOYFRIENDS .ᐟ

✩ — in which you're their muse in their respective specialties in art.

✩ — includes: kazuha, albedo, xiao x gn!reader. fluff i think,, it's nothing sad dw dw. no cws. wc: 594. writer!kazuha, painter!albedo (this is canon i know i js wanted 2 tag), photographer!xiao. reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated!

kazuha — !

anyone would be astonished at the way kazuha makes literature. there’s just something about his writing style that makes you go crazy in his works. the way he describes things and makes people envision it makes your head spin in a good and addicting way. there’s one thing that’s very noticeable in his works, it’s the way it would always be dedicated to someone.

you were the greatest thing to ever happen to him. it wasn’t like his life before he met you was dark (in fact, it was decent). it’s just that when he met you— when he fell in love with you, his life became brighter than ever. 

small dates in the park with you laying on his lap while he comes up with random haikus that’d describe you. you honestly wonder how he can never run out of those flowery words that spill from his lips every time he writes.

kazuha wishes for this to never end. but if he were to lose you then he’d never fall in love again after that. it will always be you.

albedo — !

from small doodles from afar, to sketches of you on a restaurant’s tissue, and now to a canvas where colors would show how they can express the way albedo views you. enchanting.

if the two of you had free time together you’d often hang out in an art studio. always bringing coffee together while you giggle quietly to each other on the way there. flowers in hand (that was picked up before you went to the studio, albedo said he had an idea for a painting).

“‘bedo?” you call him and he answers with a hum. “don’t you ever get tired of painting me?” you asked him. albedo put the paintbrush in hand down and walked towards you who’s sitting on a stool not far from him. he said your name softly while stroking your face and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“i’ll never get tired of painting you. even if my hands were to be bruised and tired, i’ll never stop painting you.” 

xiao — !

late night walks around the city hand in hand, driving to visit views that no one has dared to see at night, that’s how you and xiao spend time.

polaroid pictures were your favorite. so xiao would always bring a polaroid camera with him. taking stolen shots of you, some shots with you posing in a silly way, and shots where you just looked… peaceful and pretty.

a polaroid love is what you have. making notes on polaroid pictures while hanging them around at your place, making cute little doodles on them which eventually turns into you and xiao running around trying to draw on each other.

he loves your smile, it makes him smile too. if you’d ask him “why are you smiling?” he would reply with “since i got to see you. you put a smile on my face.” although it was cheesy, for him, there’s just something about the way you smile. it’s comforting.

xiao was scared at first, because he realized that he loves you more than he thinks. he falls in love with you over and over again, as much as it’s a bit exaggerating to hear. the more he gets clingy, touchy, and affectionate, xiao knows he’s falling even deeper.

he scooted closer to you, arms on your waist and face on the crook of your neck. “i love you so much.” he murmured against your skin. “i love you more, xiao.”

“i love you most.”

#( writings ) #astronetwrk #favoniuslibrary #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #kazuha x reader #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha #albedo #xiao #i love the idea of xiao or childe being a photographer student #it was supposed to be childe tbh. ill js write him next time #xiao's longer than i expected pls dont ask he started the whole brainrot .... i wont him #im not proud of this even though this has been a wip for MONTHS

[dufrau]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @lesbianlotties 🍻thanks bud!

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 27

2. What’s your total ao3 word count? 199,090. If only I could have padded that last thing out another 1000 words i would have hit my year end goal of 200k 😭 now i just absolutely have to post at least one thing this month thats all 🤷

3. What fandoms do you write for? just ronance

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Red & White & Blue & Gold - 715

Exile - 670

Entirely On Purpose and According To Plan - 580

Nothing But The Whole Wide World - 578

I Wish I Was The Moon - 469

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! If I have ever not responded to your comment I promise it was an accident I try to respond to all of them always because I love them so much.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I'm gonna go with One Too Many Mornings (and A Thousand Miles Behind) even though theres one thats definitely SADDER but I feel like this one is specifically ANGSTIER.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Honestly contrary to what many would have you believe, most of what i write has a happy ending! I guess Entirely On Purpose, maybe? That one just feels good at the end.

8. Do you get hate on fic? Not to my face!

9. Do you write smut? Yeah. I love it and I hate it. It's the hardest thing to write for me but also for some reason the thing I tend to fall back on when Im having trouble writing other things.

10. Do you write crossovers? Not so far. Ive written an AU but its not actually a crossover, really?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of 🤞

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I know of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No. I think conceptually this could be fun if we had a good premise, each writing one POV. But I would only try it with like a very small handful of people who first of all I vibe with but second of all who I would trust to actually write their part.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? I mean. Ronance.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t? I think I'll finish all of my WIPs. I don't have a lot and they're mostly gonna wind up being short so it's just a matter of doing it 🤷

16. What are your writing strengths? Hoo boy. Dialogue, I think? And like atmosphere, setting the scene, establishing a sense of place kind of stuff?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. And run-on sentences.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it makes sense it's fine. But I think a lot of people think it makes sense when it doesn't actually make sense? Basically if a character doesn't switch between languages often in canon it feels weird to have them do it in fic, in my opinion. It's like making up nicknames that dont exist in canon, it just pulls me out of the story.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Glee 🙃 But all evidence of that has been erased.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? My Piece of Land no doubt about it. i am so proud of it i will be bragging about it on my deathbed.

you're tagged if you want to be tagged, i will not gatekeep bragging about your fics! if you want to please do it!

#fic writing questions

[courtney-deserved-better]

🦋🌈,💌

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

hmm i guess i worry that people will somehow be offended/upset by it? which is pretty irrational considering i write pretty tame stuff compared to a lot of td fics that are out there but im still an anxious mf. ive also gotten weird about the word count in that it HAS to end in a 0 or a 5 but 0 is ideal. but i write in the pages app and so the word count on that and ao3 is a little different so sometimes ill post a fic that i think has an even word count and then it shows up on ao3 differently and then ill panic and add/subtract a few words from the fic to make it right before anyone sees even though i am definitely the only person who cares about this. im weird about numbers

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

OH MY GOD hawaiian style KICKED MY ASS!!!! i literally wrote three different versions of the first chapter because i could not get it to work i stg that fic was like pulling teeth. i was also visiting my family for thanksgiving around the time i was writing it so i had no privacy and would go to the library to write it and stay there until it got dark out because i was so determined to finish that fic as slippery slopes was on something of a hiatus and i wanted to give you guys more story before the year ended. writing that fic mentally and physically exhausted me lmao

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

im working on my courtney time travel au and we are getting closer and closer to one of the first major turning points of the fic!! im ~5 chapters away from a moment ive been excited to write for MONTHS. my goal is to get to that scene before july as by then it will have been a year since i started working on this fic!! im 20 chapters/50k words/200 pages in and only roughly a third of the way through the fic. so im definitely strapping myself in for the long haul on this one but when the time finally comes that it's complete and i start posting it i will literally be so excited to share it with you all!! and so proud of it

#thanks for the ask! #ask #anon #ask game

[dynjir]

Feeling mildly unhinged, potentially bc I'm very sleep deprived, but huh

I think I'm like... going through some transition discomfort rn?

I've been working on moving/furnishing my new place for like 1.5 months now non-stop and it's legit the most fun I've had when it comes to doing anything to my living space. I actually REALLY like how everything is looking so far and even though I am kinda tired of it, I'm really proud of how well things are coming together!

Even if theres still a lot to do, I genuinely love my new space! But I'm also having trouble getting... I guess fully comfortable in it?

I'm having a lot of trouble sleeping and I get restless in here often. Maybe bc this new place has been and continues to be a long-term project for me that won't be truly 'done' for some time?

There's still a lot of stuff I want to add to the place and I can't buy/implement them all immediately. It feels like even though I love it here, it's also kind of a seemingly never-ending work-in-progress of a place, which is a little exhausting tbh.

There's also much less company here than I'm used to, which definitely plays a big factor, I guess

Im finding myself getting overwhelmed pretty easily nowadays. On top of feeling like my living space is a neverending WIP, theres just also a lot that comes with moving, like updating addresses everywhere, rerouting mail, getting used to new road routes, etc

It's a strange, bittersweet feeling I've never felt before. It's new, exciting, and fun, but it's also foreign, uncomfortable, and nerve-wracking, haha...

Oogh getting tired now.

...I wanna snuggle with someone <:'0

#dyntalks #maybe delete later idk

[mid-nightowl]

20 questions for fic writers

im like days late but thank you for tagging me @waffleinator-inator<3<3<3

How many works do you have on AO3?

Three in total! It’s a tiny number but I am very proud :) 

What’s your total AO3 count?

44,317 

What fandoms do you write for?

currently, just DC. 

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Well, I only have three 😂

war of gotham: overture has the highest, which honestly is both a surprise and not a surprise??? either way i’m super excited to see it be well-liked<3 my rewrite of the recent gotham war comic arc with batdad and mommy joker playing tug of war with their traumatized child (jason)

gotham underground is the second highest! My femjay rewrite of the comic arc, batman: gotham underground (2007). It’s still a wip but i’ve got almost all of it written, just need to polish it aka get my ass in gear and finish it up lol

future state: genesis of gotham is third highest. honestly, been thinking of going back and rewriting the whole thing again, not sure i'm happy with what i got down so far. but like i love the cyberpunk feel of future state and don’t want to abandon the fic idea/plot either lol  

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? 

I love responding and will always try to respond, even though it might take me a while 😭

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? 

war of gotham for sure. It’s a bit vague in the ending but it’s definitely not supposed to be happy. 

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

well, it’s not technically finished but gotham underground will have a happy ending :)

Do you get hate on your fic? 

no and hope i never do

Do you write smut?

okay, look i have tried and i will continue to try but who knows if it will ever see the light of day lmao

Do you write crossovers?

not yet! i’ve got a few in mind though that i can’t wait to actually sit down and write

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated? 

also no

Have you ever co-written a fic? 

negative ghost-rider. shit wait i take that back, technically i have two? but they’re oc fics im writing with a bestie, do those count?? i’mma count them

What‘s your all-time favorite ship? 

oh boy….this is like heavily dependent on the fandom.

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

😭…..i have so many??? uhhhhh first one to come to mind is the robin!jay & batgirl!tim & spoiler!steph wip i’ve got, i hit a wall on that one and it’s been months, it's very frustrating 

What’s your writing strengths? 

action scenes and prose<3

What’s your writing weaknesses?

transitions, probably endings that don’t feel abrupt or even just ending stuff lol

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

only if i can read/understand it or get help with it if i don’t personally know it very well! i like including other language tid-bits, especially with characters who are bilingual etc, but i also want to do them justice and not absolutely butcher it either 

First fandom you wrote for?

One Piece :) 

Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

so far, war of gotham: overture is my absolute favorite. that baby is just *chef's kiss* to me. BUT gotham underground is my precious baby too, so like, yes, both are my favorites<3

--

i'm super late to the game so im sure everyone's been tagged 😂 so free for all to anyone who wants to! <3

#thanks for the tag waffle!!! appreciate youuuuu this was really fun<3 #tag games #waffleinator-inator #fic writing #i really need to finish gotham underground the latest chapter is done!! but im just ???? about it i just need to post it lmao #and don't get me started on my wips man that robinjay batgirl tim spoiler steph just makes me want to bang my head against the wall #good news for the future state one thou ive been in a cyberpunk mood so that rewrite might actually happen 👀 #alright enough ranting lol

[definitelynotshouting]

hi! ive been binging your stuff on ao3 because it's like, super good and i love your ideas and writing anddd i had a question! so initially i was here for scarian, but youve got some dsmp fic on there that has also been included in the reading marathon and i was wondering in particular about the ghost tommy fic? would you be up for talking about any plans you mightve had for that story? it just awoke all my old sad feelings over ctommy (〒﹏〒) totally fine if not though! anways. eats ur writing <3

ANON

This is literally the sweetest compliment oh my gods... im genuinely so flattered that you've been marathon reading my stuff!!! its always such a pleasant shock to hear that people enjoy it, but liking it enough to binge read a bunch of my other works?? i am on the floor this is literally so nice

I wanna preface this by saying none of my dsmp works are abandoned!!! I almost never fully abandon fics-- i think the only one that i've ever chosen to abandon was my voltron fic, and that was for specific fandom experience reasons. Right now, all of my dsmp fics are just kinda on hold until i can get the motivation up to eventually finish them, but i know exactly where i want to go with each one.

So with that being said, you will be delighted to know that when the night cries is actually fully finished. The fic is written, i have all five chapters done. The only thing holding me back iiiiiis... the fact that the unpublished chapters are only rough draft. I freely admit i am very insecure about my rough draft writing, especially compared to what i post on ao3. It's been an incredibly huge leap for me to even post my rough draft work on here with minimal edits-- i havent gotten near to the point yet where i feel confident posting them to ao3, which is kind of a shame considering a heart choked full with wanting, my first ever work for dsmp, is a 14k wip that has never seen the light of day 😭😭😭😭

My final drafting process is intensive. I've made a few posts about this before, but i rewrite my rough drafts entirely from the ground up, using a very strict personal style guide i've developed over the years, and while it produces quality i can be proud of, it does,,, take a while 😅😅😅 a really long while. This is why the 7k scarian fic i finished months ago hasnt been posted yet lmao

So!! Rest assured i am actually picking at wtnc chapter 3 here and there!!! It's completed, i just need to rewrite it, but unfortunately my wilbur chapters are always my goddamn problem children when it comes to editing 😭😭 akdneks sorry this got so lengthy anon, but i really wanted to reassure you that wtnc isn't abandoned. Literally just for you im gonna go poke at it rn and see if i can get any more progress done, because gods know i want it published just as much as the people waiting for updates presumably do❤️❤️❤️

#shouting speaks #asks #GENUINELY THIS IS SO SWEET #im always so caught off guard by compliments like this skdnskdjd /pos #but yeah i have been trying to make steps towards at least posting rough draft stuff to here that ppl can enjoy #the reception so far has been... shockingly positive??? and thats helping a lot #literally if you've left nice tags on my fic posts i have screenshotted them and put them in a little folder to keep #and whenever i feel bad about my writing i go and look at them again❤️❤️❤️ #dkdjejddk sorry i didnt end up talking about plans much anon!!! but i will say in here that chap 3 involves some breakthroughs :] #>:] #dsmp #my aus #txt

[itsdappleagain]

1-10!

:D

1) Who is your favorite character to write for and is this the character you find easiest to write for?

I love writing for Carmen if it wasn't clear already. She comes easily to me and its easiest too put her in scenarios tm. I actually don't often write for others but I really want to experiment with it.

2) What is your favorite fic of yours?

Hmmm. Good question and one I'm not sure I know the answer to. I like Upon the Sword, and I also really like a few of the shorter ones like the cardinal and the kitten and and the world was framed with red. currently a few wips are occupying my headspace as well

3) What fic of yours do you think is underrated?

uhhh and the world was framed with red I guess. I'm happy with all of my fics though. i think i could have made that one more engaging and have better street appeal tho

4) What fic of yours were you surprised by how popular it was?

well, I started out writing on wattpad- I posted two chapters of a fic and came back months later (i forgot lol) to a bunch of requests for me to continue. that really surprised me, and the relative popularity of upon the sword and love, carmen surprised me there too.

5) Do you like one shots or multi-chapters?

I like both but I usually do multi-chapters :D

6) Do you outline your fics? If so, how?

very, very chaotic bullet point lists usually. I will generally jot down an idea I have and if its lucky ill come and write down some base plot points. from there i'll usually fill in points for an "arc" and then set off (or start the fic and then fill in the plot...more usually. oops). one time for i think hearts and stars i did a full 20+ page document full of character outlines, motivations, emotions, and relationships with others plus plot, character goals, brainstorming, notes, title ideas, tons of blurbs, scene ideas, and even a mini screenplay format scene which i eventually added back in.

7) How do you edit your fics? What do you look for in your edits?

I usually write chunks at a time and when I start a new writing section I read the entire thing over and edit what doesn't read correctly for me. If something doesn't work and its a really big mistake I either ignore it (wow such writer lol) or entirely rework the plot to fix it lmao

8) Do you take inspiration from real life? If so how do you incorporate it into your fics?

Uhh sometimes, yes. It sort of depends on what you mean- when I get injured, I take pictures of the blood or bruises for future reference. I write detailed synopses of pain and unique traumatic medical experiences, plus any depressive or anxious episodes I may go through. Uhmm lets see...I do a lot of research for some bits of the story and I'm often inspired by other things. they help me incorporate a sense of emotion and some realism. i also take inspiration from romantic body language I see portrayed in real life and media because I have 0 experience in that department

9) Do you visualize scenes in your head before you write them? (Can you picture the setting, character body language etc)

oh GOSH yes. currently for say you'll share with me one love one lifetime the scene I have planned for the (eventual) chapter 3 has been runnign through my mind for...maybe months. I plan out a basic action first, usually- in this case a specific consequence of carmne's injury and build a scene around it- who, where, the reaction, the aftermath, how to make it gayer, and how to make it tie in with everything else.

10) How do you feel about writing plot, setting/description, inner thoughts, dialogue?

hate plot honestly. could do without it, but you cant is the thing so i usually wing it (im trying to get better lol). i thrive on setting and description, LOVE that shit. inner thoughts are very fun to do and I like trying to weave a lot of emotion in there. dialogue is...ok. usually i feel a bit awkward with it unless I really get lucky (like a bit of dialogue I feel pretty proud of is the scene in hearts and stars where ivy asks carmen why she doesn't see herself as a person in chapter 11 and i think that confidence is reflected in my reader's reactions from what I've seen :3)

thank you for the ask jo!

#realizing my answer to number 8 might be...a little concerning? #but does no one else ever just take note of injury in the back of their mind for writing reference? or think about it while crying? idk #speaking of the evil carlotta au i need to try to get that done #its hard to write for whatever reason though #oh well #anyway

[barbwritesstuff]

Hello been wanting to send a message for a while but this feels like a good moment to do so, I just wanted to write a long ass message about how GOOD blood moon is, like do u know ?? Are you aware?? I've always loved werewolves they always spoke to me deeply as myth and as a kid i decided that i would try to watch & read every media with werewolves in it (talk about an ambitious obsession dhdvd) so i do have my fair share of werewolves content in mind but let me tell you this: you! You get it, you get what it is about, both the uglyness and the beauty, the strenght and the weakness !!! yes you UNDERSTAND and do you know how amazing that is ??? How rare it is ? Ive found blood moons a few months ago when it was still a baby wip with only a few chapters and then proceed to forgot to then!!! Find it again in november and my god ?? I cried ???? You've worked so much? And it is SO good already? Even though it is a 'first draft' it is really impressive, all the characters are so different and lovely, its amazing to explore the boys for exemple even tho im a huge lesbian and usually not attracted at all by the Men in IF games, but here they're all so lovely and different! The different paths and HOW different they all feek is amazing, like the whole spooky carrie ?? The added 'u go in the van with the alpha' path is amazing, The fights scene are so damn cool we can feel the Hunger and the Animal instinct, the romance, the humor (the number of time i chuckled tho), the hug with sergi????crying... And even explicit scenes are damn nice! Hey i hope you're proud of yourself because with only 18 chapters (or something i forgot the number dhfvf) this IF is by far my favorite (okay it has werewolves im biased) and listen, once i get a job back i will 100% support u financially my dude, i would SELL MY KIDNEYS OK! BLOOD MOON IS SO GOOD AND U DESERVED TO BE PAID FOR IT.

So u talked about how little u produced this months in terms of content but by the moon barb its already SO GOOD so keep ur head high yeah ? You're doing fantastic <3

I used to be excited every full moons because awoooo werewolves but now im even more excited because of you!

Someone as obsessed with werewolves as I am! This is awesome. I'm so glad you're getting the right wolfy vibes from Blood Moon. Like you, I've consumed a lot of werewolves in media, and while I love lots of different interpretations, I certainly have my favourites. It's incredible hearing that Blood Moon could be among your favourite werewolf stories. 💙

I'm going to keep working on Blood Moon. Thank you so much for the encouragement.

[peachypunk22]

Harringrove Feedback Fest

not me participating in something when I haven’t been active in months 😅 

fic recs from AO3 authors that inspire me! these fics are all incredible and i’ve re-read each one listed multiple times!! 

@gothyringwald thank you for putting this together! its such a cute idea!

knit more tightly together by lymrics (E) @lymricks

part one of the blues in chicago series. i think one of the first harringrove fics I read. love the steve/billy dynamic and so emotional and high tension that im pretty sure it made me cry at some point? even though it’s not a sad fic! idk it just really pulled some emotion up. literally the fic that got me into the fandom and wanting to write for it! the whole series is amazing!

Steve takes a second to feel relieved it's not Dustin getting all sorts of arrested in places he shouldn’t be, then he goes back to staring.

It's Billy, who looks as good now as he did the last time Steve saw him: three years ago. He looks just as complicated, too. He’s got bruises on his face, a split lip.

star-crossed bullshit (black holes feast) by ?? (E)

this work got orphaned, but i’m so glad the author didn’t delete because it’s one of my all time faves! strong dom/sub undertones and messy relationship with an incredible use of the unreliable narrator! plus it has mechanic!billy 

Billy makes a mixtape for when he fucks boys, except it’s on Spotify, and he’s only fucking Steve, and all the songs are oddly, and suspiciously, romantic.

liquor (on your lips, makes you dangerous) by eternalgoldfish (E) @eternalgoldfish

i love a college!au with some gross hot Billy and this one is so good. equal parts cute, funny, and sweet with a side of kinky that I hadn’t read before

“Careful, sweetie, don’t break a nail,” Billy said, leaning over Steve’s shoulder, lazy cat’s-grin gleaming up to his eyes.

“I’m not going to break a fucking nail.” Steve hissed and elbowed him, like he hadn’t been thinking the same thing as he struggled to wedge one of his shiny red nails into his wallet’s tight leather pockets.

Or, Steve makes a bet he can't win and Billy doesn't realize his mistake.

i’m saucing on you by Boardingschooled (E)

speaking of college!au’s this one has fratboy!Billy being gross hot in all the best ways. also sweaty concert grinding, boys being absolutley smitten, and waffle house breakfast dates? it’s like college slaps you in the face and makes you listen to AMINE and it’s great

Steve wants a ticket to the biggest party on campus; Billy's got one with Steve's name on it.

Tale as Old as Time by hoppnhorn (M) @hoppnhorn

i’m an absolute sucker for beauty and the beast au’s and hoppnhorn is such a fantastic writer that i had to include this one

Prince William, imprisoned in the form of a beast, can be freed only by true love. What may be his only opportunity arrives when he meets Steven, a man who bewitches him from the very moment he steps foot in his enchanted castle.

Honeyed Wine by Antarc (T) @rascheln

am i biased because this fic has literally all of the thing i like because it was written for me? perhaps. but for real, this fic is SO sweet and well-written! it has baker!billy and a twist at the end that i did not see coming at all. every time i read it i just have a huge smile on my face

While he recovers from an injury at Robin's farm and helps run her market stall, Steve unexpectedly reunites with his old high school rival. Billy, once a tough asshole who got into weekly fights, is now a proud owner of the best bakery in town and mans the stall right next to Steve's- with the best croissants Steve has ever eaten.

samarra by gothyringwald (T) @gothyringwald

i think this was the first fic in a long time that i’ve read that took a more gen/mystery/sci-fi approach, with the romance taking a backseat for most of it, and honestly this fic made me remember how much i like reading. the story and universe building is excellent. very trippy and gives off a lot of twin peaks dream walking surrealist vibes.

When the kids bring Billy back from the dead, it doesn’t go quite as expected: he’s alive but his soul has been left behind. And Steve is the only person who can bring it back.

Salt in the Wound by SheWritesDirty (E) @shewritesdirty

if ‘fuck your enemies’ was a genre, this would be THE fic. rough, gritty, and violent. I could wax poetic about how much I love the writing style and imagery and how different it feels in comparison to other fic. steve and billy are toxic and messy and so bad that its good

The way he ate slow, like his jaw hurt. Like it was tender, like whatever had put that bruise on his face had left more of an impact than just… flesh and bone. And now that he was seeing it... Steve knew that he hadn’t done that to Billy.

That someone else had, after that night and over the weekend... someone else had gotten their hands on Billy and put karma into his skin.

And he still hadn’t looked at Steve.

Here I Go Again by HeckinaHandbasket (E) (WIP) @heck-in-a-handbasket

oh god oblivious!Steve is top tier in this A/B/O fic. combine with a lifeguard!billy that’s trying (and failing) in his rough, fumbling way to make it obvious that he’s courting him and you get this adorable mess. it’s so sweet and funny and the rest of the gang are actual little kids that run around and create havoc. i’m always excited when it updates!

Not just a new lifeguard, either. No, Billy was the lifeguard supervisor.

Because of course he was, the prick.

Swing Away by lemonlovely (E)

sports!au sports!au sports!au - specifically a baseball!au that actually serves as a really cool character exploration of billy and his dad and sports. this one is so bittersweet and i love the dynamic between steve and billy as they figure out a rocky start to a friendship and romance

Steve and Billy go to the same Hawkins Baseball Camp that Steve's been going to since he was a kid, and Billy is not particularly thrilled to be there - he fucking hates baseball, alright? And he tells Steve as much.

lamp-bright rind by nagdabbit (G) 

chef!Billy teaching his neighbor Steve how to cook au. unbelievably sweet and a writing style that is unique, expressive, and comedic. you really fall in love with the characters, as flawed as they may be, and the descriptions of food. did i mention its an almost 100k slow-burn? 

Billy spies on his cute neighbor, his cute neighbor doesn't know how to cook. Luckily, Billy can do something about that.

#harringrove feedback fest #harringrove #i tagged everyone's tumblrs that i could find #but yeah check these out!!

[thewritingstar]

Beautiful Revelations

Pairing: Gruvia (I know its been a hot ass min)

Fandom: Fairy Tail 

tags: @shellielyzabeth @be-dazzled @nostalgicxslumber @unvalley @tigerfire54

Note: It has happened. I have written 200 fanfics and idk if I should be proud or slightly scared. (feel free to skip this omg why is it so long) 

I want to say thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged or interacted with me in any way. I have always had a feeling that no matter what I write, I wouldn’t matter. But every comment and sweet note left made me realize that even if its just a smile or enough to make someone hit the like button, I made a small difference or added something to the fandom. Most of my fics are quick drabbles full of spelling mistakes, random thoughts and love for the characters. I know I don’t write very long stories or finish my wips (why are we surprised) but even though Im not someone people look to as a big author, each of you have made me feel special. There have been many times, this year especially that I had decided to give up writing. “Im not good enough and no one will even notice” Thats what I told myself if I decided to just back away. But every so often I would look and see that someone new or old had read my work. Every time someone reads something I wrote, I go back and read it too. I look at all the tags and see every comment and I stop and smile and remember how much joy it brought me when I first posted. 

When I first started writing, I thought that I wouldn’t have a place. Yet in a very short span of time, I was welcomed with open arms and people started to tune in regularly for my fics. I had been given many nicknames such as Gruvia goddess, angst queen, satan (yes I know the fic0 and well even Star. 

During my darkest moments, my mind lingered to my writing and to my internet friends. without hesitation I could message someone and feel better and be given the reassure I need. I can't even begin to say how much it means to me that people actually enjoy my writing and even me as a person. 

I thank each of you for giving me a joy that was considered a luxury at one point and allowing me to write whatever I wanted and you took it with love and made me happier than I have been in years. To all the people who made art or wrote me something, it means so much to me. 

Im not saying that this fic is my greatest but I think it has a special place because It shows the growth over time. 200 fics is a lot and whether or not they were all good, it doesn't matter because I did that and I can say that im proud. Im sorry for all that sappy shit but I wouldn't be where I am without you all. 

-Star <3 

ps: im not dying or stop writing fics im just happy lol 

---

  “There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a               heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”

― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

---

It was the nights like these that she hated most. The cold would creep through the blankets and make her shiver as her eyelids hung heavy. She could be ready to rest, let the sweet dreams guide her but instead those dark intrusive thoughts toyed with her like a fly on a freshly woven web. They would sprout out of nowhere, tangled with thorns and hold her mind hostage as it injected its sickly venomized thoughts for the night.

She always wondered how she got this far. She was one of the highest members of Phantom Lord, her abilities had rarely been matched. If she desperately craved, she could walk down the hallways and strike fear into the other members, no one could touch her. Hierarchies became a custom here. Once you made it to the top after clawing your way with blood, sweat and probably more blood, you were a god. Yet she walked in and in the next few minutes she was at the table with the master, already receiving a promise that she was special, a delicate and useful ally for the guild.

Special. What a swollen lie that turned out to be.

Maybe that's why she never bothered to search for a light, something to cure the rain. For every life she had bruised or ended, she wanted to feel the pain that followed. She needed to know the consequence of her actions, to be held accountable for ruining another family or taking something from the innocent. Instead she was celebrated.

The days turned to months and she found herself years later not knowing what anything meant anymore. Life used to be black and white. She would walk the side of the kind and good and now she was treading through a swarm of a morally gray compound.

These restless nights, she loathed them but then again, suffering was something that came naturally to her. The only person to ever knock her down was herself.

She climbed out of bed, fuzzy slippers over her feet as she walked to the bathroom. Her headache had worsened and she stared into the mirror. She had looked at herself a thousand times but… have her eyes always been that blue? No, she was tired and her vision was fuzzy, she was fine. Cold water came to her hands as she turned on the facet and splashed her face. Everything was the same as it always was. Expect for today.

Her order was simple. Defeat whoever stood in her way and make sure the Phantom Lord got Lucy Heratfilia. Why did they want some mage? She didn’t know but she was never one to second guess her orders. To go against what she was told was a waste of time, she would have been dead by the end of the day if she did. She had once believed that they accepted her with open arms, that Phantom Lord truly cared about her well being. It was a lie. A bitter sweet lie she allowed to remain in her head.

Hundreds of opponents had come before her. She was accustomed to the way of a battle and had harnessed her skill at a young age. The pure power of the rain pushed her further. She had an unlimited amount of power around her, unlike others, they would run out of fuel. She began to crave that god-like power. Allow the storm to rage on, all she had was herself and the droplets that followed. She understood she was an outcast. Love was never an option, not for someone who brought gloom everywhere.

But this afternoon, fate was a funny thing. She walked onto that rooftop, winning was the only thing on her mind, but he was there. A man who didn’t back down, a man who saw her as an equal.

Her heart began to race. It was forgien and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She had felt attraction before but this, this was different. Something as small as a single glance had already spun her mind into a muddled mess. It would have been better if she turned around, if he didn’t engage in the fight. Then maybe she wouldn’t be thinking of him like this.

Love at first sight. That wasn’t real. No one could possibly have that happen. What could drive someone's emotion so wild that they become attached to a person in such a short time? And yet it happened. He stood there waiting for the next move and she could only gaze at him with rose colored glasses.

An enemy. A traitor. That's what she would be if she dared to let him escape. She couldn’t hestatite, she never did and now she was frozen in her spot as ice magic danced around her. Peoples magic and abilities never intrigued her, but this, this was beyond anything she had seen.

The light reflecting off of the ice as her droplets froze before her eyes was breathtaking and she hardly noticed that she was losing the battle. She never thought rain could look, dare she say, beautiful? But in this state of its frozen glory, it was all she could think about. She envied those who never had to stay in the rain, a jealousy she didn’t want to admit had festered over the years and she gave up trying to despise the element. But before her was something much more than the state she was accustomed to. Ice. The solid purity of her own and she had wondered what it would be like to hold it in her hands.

She had water locked him, pulled out all of the stops and even with that, he stood again and again. He had screamed that the water was boiling, burning his skin but never before had the water gone above warm. It was usually ice cold on the tipping point of freezing but she could feel the warmth surrounding her.

It shocked her just the same. She had heard people talk about feeling the sun kiss their skin, the warmth spreading as they walked, this was the closest she had felt to that. This warm rush of water was beyond what she had known and yet even as it tinged her hands it felt good, it felt freeing, it felt right.

It burned in a way she had craved for so long. Something other than the fridgeness she had grown used too.

She stared at her reflection in her mirror, tears brimming her eyes. How could one person she just met bring her something she had never felt before? She shut the light out in the bathroom and walked back to her bed, passing her window, she stopped and turned.

Above in the sky was the moon. A soft white glow surrounded the orb that she had never seen before. It was breathtaking. A cosmic power the normal people of the world didn’t dare to worship now became a luxury. The sky was clear and she could see the stars, she could sense them all. How could she have lived her entire life never once seeing the moon and the sun? She had been cursed to live in the rain forever.

But he-he made it stop.

When he grabbed her arm, it was like time had stopped. As if everything she had ever known was washed away and all she could see was a bright light encasing him. She was content knowing her death was coming, there was hardly a reason for her to live. Perhaps she wasn't even living, just surviving day after gloomy day.

He pulled her to safety, her back against the roof as she panted heavily. Those clouds above her moved like a curtain for a show, parting just so that she could see the enchanting mystery she had always craved.  

She had never known a blue sky till then. The brightness was almost unbearable as she stared into a sky she had never known. So many emotions flooded her head but it was clear as those ice crystals that her heart was beating for him. She was his enemy, they made that clear from the start but he hadn’t hesitated to save her. He showed a mercy she had never come across.

Another tear fell as she sat on her bed.

“He saved Juvia.” She whispered to herself. A horrific thought came to her. Would she have saved him? She didn’t want to know the outcome because deep down she believed she was good. Beneath the surface of unremosle power, there was that scared little girl who never had anyone to care for her.

The amount of days she sat in that orphanage alone sewing her dolls and praying that the rain stopped one way or another, it was as if she couldn’t remember it. He had done the impossible. He showed her the sky she hadn’t seen. He had shown her kindness.

A thought came to mind as she stood and packed her things. No more would she be known as “the rain woman”. No more would gloom be her only trait. She was determined to find something much more appealing than those bowing by fear. She wanted love. She wanted that warmth of the water constantly and the feeling of the sun on her skin. She understood it now. There was a power strong than her, stronger than any wizard that surrounded the other guild.

She had vowed to be done with love. Promised herself that no man could hurt her again. She was trembling at the thought of being vulnerable once more. The only time she felt warmth was the scorching burn of a fiery rejection and words that burned like lava. It was too much for someone to handle. So she pushed it down, locked the key and threw it as far as she could. The temptation though. The idea of letting her guard down for someone, someone she barely knew? How she fantasized of that moment. She had once believed that someone of her past had done that, but they were all the same. Ashamed of the rain, the rain she caused, the pain she brought.

And after their fight when she collected herself and tried to run back towards her guild, he stopped her.

“For what it's worth I think you’re an incredible wizard. You may not want to believe that your guild is dark and bad but, Fairy Tail is always open.” He had said it with such sincerity that she wasn’t sure if it were true.

“Juvia thinks your magic is just as powerful.” She had said before he gave her a smile and turned away to go back to his other guild mates.

And here she stood, a suitcases packed in the night and a note left on the desk. This guild didn’t deserve any words. Not when they feasted on her ability. Harvested those negative emotions and almost made her fall into the deep end.

She knew what they would say. They would call her a coward. A traitor and a worthless wizard, at first it was enough to stop her. Make her stay and perhaps bring back the clouds. However what he said stuck in her mind.

“I would rather die fighting than let your guild have Lucy! She is one of us and we don’t leave anyone behind.”

Without hesitation he made it clear that every member of the guild was valued no matter how long they had been there, they were a family. If something like that would have happened, if she were threatened, her guild would let her die without a second thought.

Never again would she allow someone to have a hold over her. She spent too many years sheltered by pain and deviation to go on like that.

She grabbed her bag and closed her door.

--

Juvia stood in front of the door. The morning would be better to do this but it was beyond dark outside and she didn’t want her intrusive thoughts pulling her back to her old guild. Softly she knocked, maybe hoping that he wouldn’t hear it and force her back to the isolation of fear.

The open clicked open and her eyes widened slightly as a sleepy Gray leaned against the door frame, shirtless and rubbing his eyes.

“Juvia?” He blinked and watched as her cheek puffed out in red. He looked down to see that he was only in his underwear and let out a yelp as he grabbed a blanket off the chair. “What are you doing here?”

“Um Juvia thought.” She paused and looked towards the ground. “Actually Juvia apologies for disturbing you.” Her back was to him and she began to walk away.

“Wait!” His hand caught hers and he pulled slightly. A jolt of warmth spread through her, burning her like a thousand suns as well as the chill of ice from his own temperature. She looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Juvia, please just tell me.”

“Such kindness.” She whispered to herself. Her heart rate sped up just like it did earlier and she swallowed a breath. “Juvia was wondering…why did you save her?”

His hand dropped her as if he were shocked that she would dare question his action.

“I wasn’t going to let you die. Enemies or not, I don’t think you deserved that fate. I don’t believe that you are this evil person your guild made you out to be. To be honest when you fell, you look like you didn’t care what happened and I guess I saw myself in you.”

“You saved Juvia because you know what it's like?”

“To feel lost and hopeless I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Sometimes it's hard thinking you deserve to live, that it would be better to harbor all the pain of your past. I don’t know everything about you but that look in your eyes. I couldn’t let you go knowing that there was a brighter future ahead.”

A tear dripped from her eye. Her smile was soft as hugged her arms to her body. “You knew Juvia would join the guild.”

“Well I wouldn’t say I knew, but I was hoping that you would. If you still want to, that is.”

“Juvia would be honored.” She bowed respectfully towards him.

Gray smiled and bowed back. His eyes faced the sky looking towards the moon. “Have you ever seen it?”

“Tonight would be the first. Juvia thinks the stars are remarkable.”

“Lucy knows alot about them, I think you two would be good friends.”

Juvia shook her head as regret twisted in her stomach. “Juvia accepts your kindness and compassion but she doesn’t know if the rest will. Juvia was her rival, she understands if everyone doesn’t see her as a friend.” She frowned slightly.

A laugh came from the ice mage's mouth. “That's the thing about Fairy Tail, no matter where you come from or what your past may have held, there's always going to be a friend waiting.”

Juvia nodded. “Thank you Gray. Juvia will talk to your guild master tomorrow.”

“Like I said before. You’re an incredible wizard, you’ll be just fine.” He winked.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

She watched as he entered his house before turning around and walking towards her hotel. Her shoulders felt lighter and she held her head high for the first time. This was her step in the right direction, this was where her new life began.

Time had slowed and allowed her to pause. A beautiful revelation she never knew could exist came to mind as she just realized that she was in love.

---

She looked down at her leg in the mirror. The voices behind her had faded to the background as she became entranced with the mark of Fairy Tail.

“The blue suits you.” She turned to see Gray standing there with a smile as he was focused on her guild mark.

To say that she was grateful was an understatement. Her mask she wore like a crown had shattered. It unravels in his hands as the months went on and all that was left was the person she wanted to be. She could finally let go of her ghosts, her darkness and begin to forgive herself.  

---

“What do you think?” He asked her as the white sky fell with snow.

Gray had told her of a special spot he used to go to when the first snow came. Past the forest was a clearing of grassy hills that would soon become a winter wonderland. Laid out on one of the hills was a blanket and a few lanterns.

She held her hand out and felt the tiny snowflakes collect on her hand. He sat behind her, one arm snaked around her waist while the other hand rose above hers and created a small flurry of snowflakes.

“Breathtaking.” She gushed. This was the first time she had seen snow fall. Her eyes followed the ice magic as it formed a heart and blew into the sky joining the other flurries. She turned so she could meet his eyes and his normal content face was replaced with a smile.

He leaned forward until their noses touched briefly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He said and she only had a moment to process his words as his lips landed on hers and her eyes fluttered close.

Her hand went to his cheek as she leaned towards him, her energy matching his and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart. She would be embarrassed to say that she might have dreamt of this moment a little too much but it didn’t matter now. All she knew was that her beloved felt the same.

---

For once she was happy to hear a cry. That little whimper bubbling from the baby's mouth, her baby, she was in disbelief. Perfection was a rarity. No one was perfect, but the being with a tuft of dark blue hair and grey eyes would beg to differ. A child was never in her future. The thought came up randomly but the idea of raising a family wasn’t even a question.

During her missions in her old guild, she would walk past a family. She would see happy faces on everyone and would only be filled with envy and hatred. Disgusting was what it was. How could you love someone else when there was no love for you?

But times change. She would see others holding their child's hand and feel a warmth in her heart at how the children beamed up at their parents. She could sense the love all around them and would smile herself, hoping that it might become a reality for herself.

She would wake in the middle of the night, not from her demons but for her new reason to live. He would babble and tug at the locks of her hair and giggle when water magic danced before his young eyes.

---

It was nights like these that loved the most. The soft rays of moonlight casting shadows through her window as silk sheets wrapped around her bare form. She used to spend nights alone, only her pillow to catch her tears and now delicate fingers trail her backside as she listens to the thumping of his heart. His chest rises and falls as her own follows the rhythm. Her eyes flutter close as her tiredness grows untils it's interrupted by a cool press of lips under her ear.

A peaceful sigh leaves her lips as she tilts her head up to meet dark eyes gazing at her. Flushed cheeks was something she wore often and she lifted off of him to move further up and meet his lips with hers. He pulls her back to him, hating the emptiness between them and adores the way she shivers when his thumb traces her guild mark.

Their love was honest and raw. She had learned that nights like those in the past would haunt him as well. They would keep him up and plague his thoughts with images of death and destruction. But now, they lingered in the shadows, always there but something brighter and beautiful guarded them to peace and she focused on the way he breathed her name then the tears that dropped.

There was an overwhelming amount of happiness that she had gathered after all the years she spent in Fairy Tail. She found friendship and family bonds. Love in all forms that she cherished deeply. Her powers were seen as a gift to help others and lend a hand, not twisted into medled lies that she had spent so long untangling.

Her lips pulled from his slowly and their breaths settled between them. When she looked at Gray she found something more. She had freedom and rebirth. Forgiveness and lust wrapped into something more than love. Their bond was stronger than she could have ever dreamed and when he left kisses over her skin she wanted nothing more in life than to stay frozen in this moment.

He did the impossible. He opened a door, shined a light through her darkness and allowed her to accept the fact that she did deserve to live. She could cherish moments and keep them as her own without the threat of corruption. Her life was now her own to command and she did it with such grace and beauty that Gray couldn’t imagine her being any different. 

“I love you.” He promised and there was no doubt in her mind that he meant it.

“I love you too.” She responded.

The beautiful truth was that she was finally at peace and loved herself. 

---

I hope that you all enjoyed and thank you for being so lovely <3

#Gruvia #Gruvia fic #gray x Juvia #Juvia x Gray #Juvia ft #gray fullbuster #juvia loxar #fairy tail #fairy tail fic #thewritingstar

[carelessannie]

maybe it goes like this: tony courts peter (part 2)

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten

Read on A03

Read the Stuckony backstory WIP

Starker focus (Tony x Peter), Winteriron (Tony x Bucky), with reference to Stucky, Stony and Stuckony

This is the “meet... awkward” for my AU, and takes place roughly 8 months before the first chapter. Enjoy!

Major warnings: D/S Au, A/B/O Au, OmegaSub!Peter, BetaDom!Tony, OmegaSwitch!Bucky, AlphaDom!Steve, Heavy Awkward Flirting, Cute Nicknames, Kinda Sexy Winteriron

Maybe it goes like this:  

8 Months Earlier

Peter is looking forward to seeing his Pack after class, definitely needing to cuddle up with Annie in their nest tonight. And maybe Clint will bring home pizza. It’s been a long-ass day.

Okay, definitely pizza.

From the front of the class, Peter can hear his professor introducing the guest lecturer, and he drags his backpack around to his seat to unlock his laptop and notebook. Just as he logs in and dates his notebook page, Peter looks up to see the most attractive man in New York walk through the door, smile to the class, and introduce himself.

Tony.

Tony Stark?

No Way. The Tony stark?

Peter's ears ring, and he swears he sinks three feet into the floor.

Mr. “just call me Tony” Stark is saying something about BioMolecular Engineering, about class credit, about new processes in the industry, about independent research opportunities, about the— wait.

Peter jerks in his seat, mouth ajar, as The Tony Stark lists benefits of working in his research lab for Stark Industries, a dream Peter has nursed since high school. He barely hears the rest of the presentation, focusing on closing his mouth and blinking, keeping hot Arousal out of his scent, adjusting himself in his pants—

“—and I’ll take questions up front if you have them, thanks."

There’s a round of lazy applause, as students start to pack up and file out, and Peter shakes himself, You have to talk to him. He scribbles a few questions on his notebook and throws everything into his backpack, floating across the classroom and to the back of the line.

When he finally steps up, both of them freeze. Peter restrains himself from scenting the older man right there in the classroom because hot damn .

Peter lets out a short gasp of “hellomynameisPeterParker,” thrusting his hand forward, and is pulled in for a firm handshake, Tony Stark looking into his eyes with a vaguely amused expression.

Peter lets go, reluctantly, and stutters out, “M-mr. Stark? I think I’d be interested in the semester research opportunity.”

“Of course, Peter Parker,” Tony turns and grabs a StarkPad, scrolling briefly before handing it over to Peter, “if you want to fill it out today, feel free. It’s an equal opportunity research grant, and provides a weekly stipend for the duration of the program.”

Mr. Stark continued with details, as Peter quickly puts his information in the application and presses “submit.” He peers up at the older man, Beta? Probably? Most of what he can scent is spice and fire– maybe cinnamon, or chai like Clint? It’s hard to tell without throwing his face into the man’s neck, and inhaling deep–

“Mr. Parker? Pete?”

Peter’s head shoots up, and he realizes he’s been still for too long without responding, and immediately goes to apologize, “Oh, I-i’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I just… I finished the application? Shouldn’t I submit– or, sorry– send in a resume? Sorry.”

Mr. Stark keeps his expression schooled, but Peter can tell that he’s holding back a smile. Dammit Parker, way to nail the first impression. He shifts on his feet, biting his lip as Mr. Stark shakes his head slowly.

“No, it’s okay Peter. Our admin team will review the first round of applications by department, and send out an email link for further information, alright?” he gives into his smile, reaching out as if to... what, comfort Peter? But aborts the motion and crosses his arms, flexing slightly under his navy suit.

“Do you have any other questions, Peter?”

“No, n-no not right now, sorry, thank you Mr. Stark, sir. Um. Okay? I’ll see you later?” and Peter beats a hasty retreat out of the classroom, feeling his scent shift Embarrassed and hot tears prick his eyes.

Why does he always give a terrible first impression?

—

Tony stands, shocked in the empty classroom, schooling his scent and his breathing.

Thank you Mr. Stark, sir.

He collects his things in a haze, heading back to his pack and thinking about the gorgeous omega who just called his name.

Damn. His Alpha and Omega are gonna want to hear about this.

2 Weeks Later

Tony is straightening up the last few items in the R&D lab, hearing Pepper’s complaints of You need to care about your work space, Tony and You need to prepare a safe space for interns to work, Tony. And Pepper is right, of course, so Tony keeps cleaning.

He hears the doors swish open, and sighs, schooling his expression to neutral. He whirls around, raising his hands to defend himself against what he assumes is a new portion of nagging from Pepper, and instead–

The pretty omega from NYU.

What? “What are you–” Tony starts, watching as– Parker? Pete, Peter?– clutches a bag close to his chest, large doe eyes widening in shock and fear and… yup, there it is, FearShockEmbarassed Omega scent floods the lab as Peter takes a step backwards, lips opening and closing in shock.

“Hey, are you–”

“I’m so sorry, I–”

Tony shakes his head, stepping a little closer, “No, it’s okay, Peter? Right? From NYU?” with a nod in confirmation, Tony barrels ahead, “I thought you were– no, it doesn’t matter. Are you, are you here for the internship?”

“Y-yes, I’m sorry, they said to come at noon, but I thought I’d get here early and, god I can’t believe it, I’m so sorry, I’ll just wait– uh, wait outside?” Peter stutters through the explanation, lowering his eyes and backing towards the door to retreat into the hallway.

“No, like I said Peter, it’s okay, honestly,” Tony looks around quickly, trying to find a seat for the started young man, and yanks out the stool to his workbench, “here, sit down, please?”

There’s a moment of stillness as Peter looks between the stool and Tony, muttering something under his breath and setting his jaw in determination. Damn this boy is adorable, and Tony forces himself to keep a neutral expression as the om– the intern – walks across the room and sets down his backpack. Tony turns to the other side of the desk to give Peter some space, and clears the last of the notebooks into a nearby drawer.

He wants to start a conversation with Peter, fingers twitching in the unbearable silence, but is saved by the lab doors opening again, revealing Pepper leading five lost looking interns into the room. She leads so gracefully, he thinks, and feels his scent turn Fond and Proud for the Beta. Pepper sits each intern down, greeting Peter as well, and before he knows it, orientation and introduction are underway. The interns have their own work benches, and Pepper lets another supervisor take over the first day paperwork.

While the interns work in silence, Tony refuses to fixate on Peter, even though he takes to the research environment so beautifully. He's smart, he makes the funniest sarcastic quips when he thinks no one is listening, and he's kind of quiet, but always speaks up when he has a strong opinion.

Tony keeps his interactions unbiased among the other interns, mostly betas and one alpha, and is so relieved when the day ends and the students finally shuffle out of the lab. Peter ends up last to leave, staring at Tony and nervously licking his lips as he shoulders his bag. He seems to hesitate.

“Yeah, what’s up Pete?”

“Oh… no, right, see you tomorrow?” Peter shifts back and forth on his feet.

Tony smiles, “Of course, early bird,” and honestly can’t help his eye twitching, helplessly, in a wink.

Peter stutters out some type of goodbye, and flutters back through the door.

Tony blows out a breath, “JARVIS, call Bucky.”

—

“So what you’re tellin’ me is, you’ve somehow managed to find a smokin’ hot–”

“Beautiful,” Tony interrupts, “and compatible–”

“Right, smokin’ hot, compatible omega, and you… hire him?”

“I mean, technically I didn’t hire him personally–”

“Tony–”

“No, you know what, I get it. It’s my fault I can’t have him. But Bucky, I swear he’s so damn smart, and I can’t even let myself hope about his orientation,”

Bucky groans audibly over the line, but Tony protests again, “–because I swear he would submit so beautifully, Bucky, I can just see it. And remember how I said he called me sir?”

“How could I forg–”

“It’s all I can think about. I don’t wanna be overbearing, but I’m completely helpless around him and have no idea what to do. Bucky, I winked at him. Winked. And he ran away so fast.”

He can hear Bucky laughing at him over the line, that idiot, and Tony drops his head in his hands.

“Want my advice, sweetheart?” Bucky doesn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “I think you should take it slow and court ‘im. Sounds like it could be awhile before you can make anything official, and what is he, like eighteen?”

“... Twenty.”

“Okay, twenty. He probably isn’t looking for a permanent pack anyways, alright? Get to know ‘im at work, and as soon as you can, you should also put a stop to him seeing you as his boss,”

“Wait, but–”

“No, Tony. As much as it feels great for this little omega to call you ‘Mr. Stark’ and ‘Sir,’ if you want anything more with this guy, you have to work to even out the relationship a bit.”

Tony slumps down into a seat, sighing dramatically. Bucky goes silent as Tony processes what he’s saying. A thought occurs to him,

“Wait, is that how Steve got you?”

Bucky snorts, “Yeah, you know our Alpha’s ‘bout as subtle as a dump truck. His advice is gonna be, ‘sit the omega down, state your intentions to court him, communicate clearly,’ all that shit,” another laugh, this time fonder, “I’m just sayin’ to save that for later, okay? Take it slow.”

Heading towards the door, Tony signals for JARVIS to move the conversation to his phone as he heads home. He pops in an earpiece for the call, and makes sure Bucky is still on the line.

“Yeah, I’ll take your advice Bucky-bear. Hey, are you home?” Tony taps his foot as the elevator descends to the parking garage, feeling a familiar itch starting under his skin.

“Yeah I am, Steve’s out until later... why, what’s up?”

He gets out of the elevator, heading for his car, “I think all this talk of the perfect omega has me missing you. Wanna do something soft and dirty when I get home?”

Bucky hums, the sound sweet and tempting, even over the phone line, “Whaddya have in mind, my Beta?”

“Oh you know I love when you call me that,” Tony peels out onto the main road, heading towards their coastal property, their home, “I want you to contact Steve and ask him to pick up dinner, your choice. I’ll tell him what my plan is for you tonight, so he won’t be surprised. I’ll be there in thirty-five minutes and want you in the red room, ready to play, understood?”

Tony can hear Bucky breathing quicker over the phone as he responds, “Yes, Beta.”

“My good omega. And for now, let’s not tell our Alpha about Peter. Not unless it gets serious, okay?”

“Mmm okay, Tony. Hurry home,” and Bucky ends the call.

Tony steps on it.

#starker #winteriron #stuckony #stony #stucky #tony x peter #bucky x tony #d/s fic #light d/s #meet awkward #getting together #fluff #MiGLT #omegaverse

[emily-prentits]

1, 3, 4, 5, 15, 18, 19, 21, 23

no pressure to answer them all ajshghasgsj im very curious tho

1. tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

People keep sending me this lol- but I always have more wips so I don’t mind in the least <3 (Perfect time to talk about inthaf omg)

It’s Nice To Have a Friend (inthaf) is the title of an original fic that I’m slowly chipping away at in hopes of actually writing something original… it’s based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name. Ever since I first heard this song I’ve wanted to write a childhood friends to lovers fic but it never really fit any of my ships (surprise surprise, there's a thing called original fiction. Who knew?) This idea has been brewing in my mind for about a year and a half now, but I just started plotting and worldbuilding about a month ago! Not many details are set in stone and I want to keep it under wraps for a while yet, but the main premise is two childhood friends reuniting after years of being apart. Shenanigans (also known as the plot™) ensue. I’m really excited about this fic tho! Maybe I’ll actually finish it… (I say, as I haven’t even finished one fic)

3. what is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

A mob boss au omg. This sounds like so much fun but the amount of research I’d have to do? The amount of writing I’d have to do? I don’t have the time for another multi lol. I think I’d probably make it papertiger if I did write it though.

4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Cindy. Felicia smiles.

You get zero context, you're welcome.

5. what character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

answered here!

15. which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Great question great question…. Am I allowed to say all of them?

Titles usually come to me sometime while writing, or at least fragments of titles, so those aren’t super hard unless they don’t come to me lol in that case that would be the hardest part of a fic.

Summaries have been drilled into my brain for years (meaning I loathe them) but if I really need one I’ll do it, but if I’m feeling lazy I’ll just use an interesting quote from the fic as a hook and call it a day. aaty has the one summary I’m actually proud of that I put effort into lol

Honestly I don’t give a shit about tags… sometimes I use them, sometimes I don’t, sometimes I forget that ao3 isn’t tumblr and I use the tags like I would on tumblr lol

18. do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

So many of them!! I briefly thought about writing Carmen and Julia’s relationship before the events of aaty, thought about writing a fic where Carmen faked her death for an epilogue-type fic set after you’re gone (and I’m all alone), gala fics… so many gala fics for carulia. There’s actually one coming up in both of my carulia multichaps, although I won’t tell you where.

19. is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

answered here!

21. what other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)

If they weren’t all fanfiction I think they’d work good as films or webcomics <3

23. what's the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

Definitely aaty. Started that sucker january 2021 and only got a few chapters in before my brainrot said no more writing *cries*

writer asks

#asking jo #the giraffe animal cracker #not a crush anon #seemed like it was time for some advanced formatting...

[iphoenixrising]

Check, Please WIP: Part 1-4

AHL!Bitty

I’m going to hell, but… Parse, Bitty, and Jack or PB&J as I’ve seen it, have some wonderful stories in the fandom, and tbh I’ve come to look at Kent Parsons very differently thanks to a few. You can probably check them out on my Ao3 bookmarks and such. 

Notes: 

I know shit all about hockey but damn if I don’t love Check, Please! Not everything is accurate and some details are mine. Like, I’m just going to pretend the Bruins aren’t in Providence, and the Pawtucket Rebels are the AHL team. 

But then, what if Jack and Bits didn’t get that kiss at the end of Jack’s graduation? What if they just stayed the best of friends, pining away at one another until Kent Parson comes back into Jack’s life. Now it’s not just Jack pining, it’s Kent too :D

And, well, after winning the Championship his senior year, bringing that back to Samwell, Eric Bittle might just think he hasn’t had enough Hockey after all.

Really, it’s time to put up or shut up.

** Pro

Of all the things on Kent Parson’s Wish List (winning the Stanley Cup, being on a team he loves, playing hockey for the rest of his life, having a pet and Kit meets all those criteria for so much cute and cuddly), getting his friendship back on track with Jack Zimmermann hadn’t moved down from number 1, ever. 

Things changed after that disaster at his college frat house, then later in Zimm’s first season with the Falconers, Kent wasn’t sure it could even be a wish. 

When it came to hockey, things were always too easy. They never had to talk about it, about what they were doing on the ice. All of that just came like breathing. Parse and Zimms, Zimms and Parse. The whole Zimmermann-Parson No-Look One-Timer was never something they discussed, it was something that just happened. 

On the ice, they were unbeatable, just like in Juniors.

Off the ice...was a different story. 

(Sometimes he dreams about it, finding Jack passed out on the bathroom floor of the hotel, foaming at the mouth, panic and adrenaline hitting Kent hard when he’s pretty sure his best friend, the man he almost-kind of-sometimes loves, is going to die on this floor.)

Jack’s problem with pills started early, around the time he and Kent got serious enough to play for scouts that started coming around with the promise of watching the son of Bad Bob. 

(He was always partially to blame for Jack’s downfall. Kent had been the closest to Jack back then, had seen the signs, had tried to pull him back whenever he could, had been the one to ease Zimms down before every game, to be the one sitting in a corner with the bigger Canadian, running his hands over Jack’s shoulders and holding his hands, checking his breathing, helping him work through the anxiety.)

But, but!

That’s all old history, something Jack probably never wants to revisit ever again (because he cut you out of his life so well–), even when he makes it to the Falconers. 

(After that disaster at his school, well, no wonder.)

And Kent just has to deal with that, has to accept it finally, and just move on. 

(He could have been an Ace, just that fast, playing with Kent’s team of awesome guys. And fuck did it hurt when Jack turned him down flat...)

Until this little shit came along.

** 1

Eric Bittle realizes he’s severely messed up when he doesn’t kiss Jack Zimmermann at graduation. 

For two years, they’ve played hard hockey for Samwell, have gotten close, becoming best friends. They’ve held checking clinics, hugged tightly in cellys, watched boring as hell history documentaries on that god-awful green couch, and pulled each other back from the brink of insanity during midterms and finals. They’ve spent time in the kitchen with Bitty cooking and Jack working at the table. They’ve spent time outside in the quad, bullshittin’ like the oldest friends, chirpin’ back n’ forth like they’re two peas in a pod. 

Jack somehow started being his best friend without even trying. 

The last game showed him how close they’d become when he’s going through the empty rink, making it to the loading dock, just a flash of jersey leading him to Jack hunched over, tears in his eyes. 

The utter agony right there had gone through Bitty like lightning, driving him forward to hop up on the pallets Jack was sitting on, and wrap both arms around those wide shoulders, hold on to ‘im as tight as he can. 

“It ain’t your fault, Jack. You did so good with us. I’m so proud of you, honey, you have no idea. You worked so hard, so hard, Jack.”

“Bits,” is soft and sad, Jack choking a little, but those big arms come around him, crush him against Jack’s chest and the pads he’s still wearing. 

“I know, I know. Sometimes it just isn’t in the cards, no matter how hard we fight. You get that, don’t you? Sometimes it just is what it is.”

“I can’t–” accept that is what Jack wants to say. 

“I know it’s hard, but sometimes all the trainin’ and plannin’ and best of intentions just aren’t enough to tip the scales in your favor.”

And Jack seems to get something there, tightens his arms a little more, and holds on. 

It’s a little while later when Jack’s stopped shaking like a leaf, “I wanted to bring home a Championship. Wanted to make my mark on Samwell.”

“Of course you did–”

“Thought after all this time, everything I owe Samwell and the team, bringing me here, giving me this second chance–”

“Oh Jack,” at this juncture, Bittle’s head is under Jack’s chin. 

“I finally felt like I’d stopped fucking up,” is rough and dark in the quiet of the rink. “I thought coming to Samwell was a...a punishment. I dealt with it because I thought my life was going to start after, when I finished up my degree and got back into the Draft. But that’s...that’s not how it happened. My life started the minute I met you and the team and I remembered why the hell I love hockey so damn much in the first place.”

And if maybe a few slow, shameful tears escaped Bitty, well, no one would ever know.

But they got even closer as Jack’s graduation loomed, and Eric Bittle stayed in his own personal hell of loving Jack so much it ached, but helpless to stay away to protect himself. 

Instead, when Jack pauses at his door, Bits knows what he needs and finds space to lounge on Jack’s bed, scrolling through Twitter while Jack talks about the negotiations with NHL teams or works on his last assignments. 

Watching Jack pack his things, preparing for the Falconer’s training camp, getting ready for the next stage of his life, all of it makes Bits so dang proud and so sad at the same time.

But, well, nothin’ lasts forever, now does it.

When Jack ran all the way back to the Haus just to see him, just to pull him in hard for a desperate last hold, it was all Bits could do to stop from sobbing his heart out.

“–and you’re coming to Providence this summer to stay with me for a while, and-and I’ll be down when I can. You’re going to Skype me all the time. Bits, promise me. All the time.”

“Okay, Jack. Okay.”

Something soft in French that he has no idea what it could possibly mean, but he absolutely imagines Jack pressing a kiss in his hair. 

“I’m sorry, Bits, but I have to go. I...I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” is more watery than he’d like, but he can look up in Jack’s blue, blue eyes and at least feel warm that he’s had this man for as long as he has. When Jack’s hands slide out of his, he somehow doesn’t feel like he’s losing anything at all. 

** 2

And just like that, Jack takes a step in his life he never could have predicted. Like an hour away instead of across the hall is enough to keep holding on, enough that Jack comes to Madison over the summer, enough that he asks Bitty to show him how to use FaceTime and SnapChat. 

It’s enough for Jack to pick him up off his feet every time they meet up and bury his face in Bitty’s hair. It’s enough for Jack to Skype almost nightly while he’s tuckered out in his bed, talking about the joys and pitfalls of being a professional athlete. 

It’s enough that he gets to meet the Falconers long before preseason starts, and the amount of pies he brings is literally obscene.

(It all works out just fine in the end because he goes home with the empty pans. Not a single slice left.)

It’s enough when Jack talks more about life than hockey sometimes, and Bitty is utterly helpless to stop any of it. And it’s funny, he thinks, how he was sure Jack would just flitter out of his life after a while. That they would be reduced to a Skype call once a week maybe when they find the time, then once a month, then not at all, moving into texting once and a while until Jack would be nothing more than one of his best memories of Samwell. 

It’s funny how he thought Jack moving into the NHL, moving to Providence, moving out of the Haus, moving on with his life, would mean also moving on from Eric Bittle.

And my, how wrong he was about all that.

Watching Jack play with the Falconers from the stands with the Stanley Cup on the line is not really where he’d thought he’d be once Jack had graduated. 

But, if anything else, they’ve gotten even closer than before. 

And when the buzzer finally sounds and the Falconers win it, he’s among the crowd running out on the ice for the biggest celly of the year. 

Jack spots him immediately, grabs him up with a victorious roar, and skates around people holding Bitty like a favorite toy until Tater scoops him up from Jack yelling about “Nook pies!”

Marty skates by him, ruffling his hair with something twinkling in his eye. Thirdy hauls him up, too, though Bitty has no idea why all these hockey players are just throwing him around when they’ve just won the Stanley Cup, but he still thinks it’s awful nice of them to include him in their celebration.

He doesn’t go back to Georgia for the summer after all or the next one before he starts his senior year, but goes between staying in Jack’s guest room and the Haus instead. His Mama’s not happy about it at all, but he’s a grown man, so that’s all she can say about that.

So Bitty passes the summer of his Senior year training with Jack or at Faber when the ice is up for grabs, works on some chapters for his someday cookbook, and continues his vlog so everyone can see how superior filo is to choux in the right circumstances.

With the season over after winning the Cup, Jack is over at the Haus more than ever if Bitty’s not in Providence already staying in his guest room. 

It should be strange to answer the door at the Haus on Saturday morning during the summer and see Jack there in his trainers, sweats, and t-shirt, wanting to hang out for the day after he’d put in a few hours at the Falc’s stadium already. 

(“C’mon, Bits. Can’t slack during the summer. You’re the captain. Set an example.”

“Jack, it’s summer. Leave me alone until at least nine am for goodness sake!”

“Not going to happen, bud.”)

It should be strange riding the train or in the passenger seat of Jack’s SUV on their way to Providence while he fiddles with the music and Jack doesn’t complain about the selection. 

It should be strange to wake up on Jack’s couch, laying on a broad shoulder with a heavy arm flopped around Bitty’s waist and logs being sawed in his ear.

It should be strange to know Jack’s kitchen better than the back of his hand, and to be giddy every time there’s a new utensil bought with him in mind.

(“Jack, why in the world would you need a dough scraper of all things?” “Not for me, Bits.”

“O-Oh!”

“Yeah. Thank Tater. He went with me this time. He held up that and said, ‘oh does B have one of these? It looks important.’ I didn’t know so I bought it in case.”)

It should be strange to see Jack’s Skype requests almost every night before bed, or have his former captain sprawled out in Bitty’s full sized bed once Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are already moved out and the new Waffles are well into the first semester of his senior year.

(“Good Lord, Jack, scoot over!”

“Mm.” Jack scootches maybe a foot more so Bitty can climb in beside him, already yawning. “Comfy, bud?”

“Gettin’ there,” and he absolutely ignores how much easier he falls asleep when Jack throws a heavy arm over him.)

It should be strange for Jack to whip him on up in a big hug when he admits the boys voted him as the Captain, and Jack breathes out, “damn right,” too close to his ear.

(“I don’t know if I can do this, Jack.”

“Too bad, Bits. Looks like you’re already doing it.”)

It should be strange for Jack to chirp him about his thesis, about his struggle with Whiskey, about why this darn strudel just won’t turn out right.

(“Jaques Laurant Zimmermann, do not make me ground you from pie.”

“Haha. I know you wouldn’t do that, bud.”

“Oh? Don’t be so sure, Mister.”)

It should be strange to get an earful when his new video comes out and Jack had no idea the jam war was that serious while Bitty has been supplying the Falconers for nearly a year. 

(“Are you kidding? Aunt Judy is really that upset?”

“You have no idea, honey. It’s almost World War III down there.”

“Good thing you’re stuck at Samwell.”

“Good thing is right! I don’t want any part of that mess.”)

But somehow it never is. Strange, that is, to have Jack so much. Even though nothing could happen between them (“Never fall for a straight boy.”), Bitty still can’t let go of Jack, can’t deny him, can’t tell him no, can’t be the one that fails to respond when Jack reaches out for him. 

Even when Kent Parson shows up at a Falcs game and cheers himself hoarse, screams for Jack right there on live TV.

And while trying to get through his dang senior year, trying to get his team to the Eastern Conference, he watches how Jack and Kent start to move back in one another’s orbit.

...which is probably why he doesn’t tell Jack anything about the scouts from the AHL coming to see him after the game with Princeton.

** 3

The Pawtucket Rebels manager, Michael McLean, is the one that meets Bitty with a Standard Player Contract the morning he gets back from Jack’s place when they’re going to be starting in the Frozen Four if they win the next two games.

The weekend away was nice, but he hadn’t been expecting Jack’s intention to introduce him to Kent Parson of the Las Vegas Aces. 

“We’ve already met,” Bitty had filled in, still shaking Kent’s hand with a distant smile on his face, “at the Haus party when he swung on by.”

“Not my best moment,” the Captain admits sheepishly, eyes not meeting Bitty’s, and dang it if the boy ain’t at least a little bit cute. 

“I suppose we all have our days,” Bits just drawls out and gives him a wink. He holds out the plate of fresh cookies as some kind of peace offering. 

The weekend was still nice, being caught up in Kent’s manic energy and Jack’s easy acceptance. But, he starts seeing the signs pretty easily, when Jack’s hand goes to Kent’s shoulder after a good joke, the exchanged glances that linger, the slowly dwindling personal space that used to be there for them. How they start finishing each other’s sentences, and oh, doesn’t it just make his heart give a little beat when he sees them both happy. 

(But doesn’t that just break it at the same dang time. Not only does Jack like men, but he’s already got his sights set on his old boyfriend. It’s almost enough to make a grown man cry. Bitty consoles himself after breaking down in his room on Sunday when Jack and Kent dropped him off at the Haus. Only Senor Bun knew how much he’d ugly cried himself out that night.)

When Mr. McLean gives him the contract to peruse and a business card with his information circled in blue pen, Bitty almost picks up his phone to call Jack, talk about what he would need other than a lawyer to go over this thing. 

He thinks about Kent and calls Coach and Mama the next morning instead, promises to send scanned copies of the contract. Mama asks if this is something he really wants to think about doing after graduation. 

“It’s money, Mama, a lot of money, and who knows? Hockey might not be outta my heart just yet. I’ll still have time for everything else.”

He only feels a little bit bad when Jack Skypes him on a roadie, set-up in a hotel, asks how his darn thesis is going, and promises to be at the next home game. 

Kent joins the call while Bits is slid down all snug and sleepy-eyed, kids around with him by making kissy faces. 

“College is brutal, Bits. You aren’t sleeping enough.”

“Well, now that’s life, ain’t it?”

Bitty knows something’s going on between them because Kent is shaking a finger at the screen and lecturing him about procrastination while Kit snoozes on. He’d only known if Jack told him about it.

“Bits, your thesis is basically about baking. Baking is the thing you love that isn’t hockey.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier,” Bitty slurs tiredly, wondering how he’s talking to the man that’s swiping his unrequited crush right out from under him even though he doesn’t even feel too bad about it. Not when he sees how good Kent is for Jack now, even if that hadn’t always been the case.

(Long as it makes Jack happy, I can endure it. It’s tough, but I’m tougher.)

But really. Kent Parson is so different from his image as the Captain of the Aces, Bitty can’t help but genuinely like the man. 

“I’m so jealous. I love peppermint cookies and I’ve never gotten any sent to me!”

Sleepy time Bitty makes a note of that even when the world fuzzes out a little bit more.  

“God, he’s so cute, Zimms.”

“Euh. He really is, Kenny. We should hang-up and let him sleep.”

Or he might of just dreamed that part.

The Aces have a hard game coming up, and he’s got his outline done, so the Haus is finally going to let him alone long enough to bake one single, solitary pie. In the middle of it, he certainly doesn’t expect Jack to show up with a six pack of Molson Blue, apparently assuming they’re going to watch it together and cheer on Kent.

“But I expect you to cheer for the Falcs when it comes down to us and the Aces, Bits.”

“Oh honey, I always root for the underdog anyhow.”

The chirp makes Jack flop back on his bed and laugh hard enough for tears to be in his eyes. Bitty just goes back to the Aces on his laptop and drinks Jack’s awful beer with a smirk.

He stirs a little from sleep to Jack talking softly beside him in bed since “It’s too late to drive back to Providence tonight. Move over, bud.”

He mutters something maybe, sighing instead when fingers comb through his hair. 

“That W was perfection, Parse. You were skating your best life out there, eh?...sleeping right now. Yeah, senior year is a pain in the ass...you bet I miss you. Three weeks, we’ll be close enough to Vegas...yeah, I’ll try to get him to come along, but the Wellies are getting closer to the Championship...he would kill to bring it home for the boys.”

But he probably imagined all that, too. 

Still, he’s got a short break before the next round of games, and just five days until his deadline to let Mr. McLean have his answer when Jack shows up at the Haus and is apparently confused why Bitty isn’t packed for Vegas.

“What do you mean we’re going to Las Vegas, Jack?!” Because this is the first he’s heard about it, and how does Jack already have a plane ticket for him?

“Come off it, bud. If I go there without you, Kenny will never forgive me.”

“How does he even know I don’t have a game?” He frets while putting sleep shorts in a suitcase, wonders if he should bring one of his suits since Jack is already wearing one. 

Jack’s brows scrunch together, “Don’t you talk to him on that–that bird one? All the time? He says he always reads your updates.”

He pauses with a pair of boxer briefs and gives Jack his very best unimpressed expression, “Jack, sweet pea, please tell me you didn’t just refer to Twitter as that bird one?” He carefully does not say anything about Kent Parson checking his Twitter updates.

The soft smile and shrug in reply answers that now doesn’t it.

“I swear, what would you do without me,” he sighs, a little throb of love getting caught in his chest, and he just busies himself right on past it, going for at least one pair of flip flops probably buried under mounds of winter gear. 

“Honestly? If I didn’t have you these last few years, maybe it would have been like what happened when I was in the Q,” Jack leans back on his elbows on Bitty’s bed, right beside the suitcase he’s quickly trying to pack. Being stuck between two button-ups, biting his bottom lip because he’s already bringing so much takes a backseat when Jack mentions the days he was in Juniors, and Bitty feels his eyebrows raise. 

“When we started checking clinics, you and me, that was the most...balanced I ever started feeling after all that. The, ah, overdose. That...that might have been where I ended up if it hadn’t been for you and Samwell.”

With a breath (because Lord, here was Jack finally talking about it, in such a soft tone, his eyes so very blue, and just! Well, he’s not made of stone and this is Jack), he scoots the suitcase back and plops right down on the bed, reaching for Jack’s hand. He carefully looks at the closed door and rubs those big fingers with his thumb.

“You honestly think you would have made those same mistakes without me, Jack?” He tries to be nice about it, “because I sure as heck don’t.”

His fingers tighten around Bitty’s, a squeeze, a soft thank-you.

“I mean, I didn’t know you back then, so I can’t say who you were, but there are some parts of that Jack left in the one I know now. And the Jack I know now is someone that knows how to lead his team, and takes care of them, who knows how to inspire them. The Jack I know got up extra early just to help this hopeless case learn to overcome his fear and be able to play hockey better than he ever could have before. You helped me not just be able to take the check, but I’m a captain, a center, and I earned it because of you. The Jack I know is selfless in so many ways and selfish in just the right ones, and dang it, he’s my best friend, so you better not say anything else like that about him again.”

The bed shifts under him when Jack sits up, a big hand coming up to palm the side of Bitty’s face so Jack can lean his forehead in, look straight at him from just inches away with those stupidly big blue eyes, and be so warm and just Jack. 

“You were never hopeless, Bits,” and with his voice that low, being this close, Bitty feels his cheeks getting warm, his eyes helplessly sliding down to Jack’s mouth.

The errant thought Vegas, we’re going to Vegas shakes him out of the moment, and he pats Jack’s forearm, gently pulling back from the very intense, heart-stopping moment where his brain almost killed him when it told him to just go on and kiss Jack.

But his brain also knows it would probably be the last thing he’d ever do with Jack because Jack has Kent for that now, doesn’t he?

Mentally shaking himself, Bitty stands quickly, goes back to his suitcase, “All right, now for heaven’s sake, Jack, help me here. I’ve never been to Las Vegas–”

And it’s not nearly as hot in Georgia as it is in Las Vegas when they get off the plane, but everything else about it is incredible. 

(He doesn’t think about how nice it was to ride next to Jack on the plane, talking strategy and the team, the upcoming games and new plays they might bring to the ice. It’s nice to hear about the Falcs eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with hollers for more. The pies never last long and cookies are always a favorite.)

He might have worried for about a minute, fiddling with the Uber app on his phone to update his location, but Jack just lays a hand on his back and guides him out of the terminal. 

“Don’t worry about it, Bits, we’ve got a ride.”

And standing by a stunning red Ferrari is Kent Parson himself, grinning wide under his sunglasses.

“Oh my,” even if it’s a little breathless, he gives himself an out here because wow, it’s a nice car. 

(And he is not at all looking at Kent’s bare arms or muscled calves. Absolutely not. He’s already got one heartache, thank-you very much.)

He still squeaks a little when Kent literally picks him up off his feet and swings him around.

“There’s my guys! Falconers and Rebels!” Kent yells for half the airport to hear. 

Jack blinks and Bitty groans softly.

Those blue eyes aren’t accusing him of anything, but it’s that same confused look when he tries to figure out if the next song is Destiny’s Child or Queen Bey herself.

“Rebels?”

He doesn’t wince, but it’s a close thing.

“I’ll...tell you about it later.” He waves off, deflecting perfectly, and snaps up his luggage again now that he’s on his feet.

“Oh,” Kent looks from him to Jack and back to him, and his mouth opens probably to say something else no one else needs to hear.

“Thank-you for coming to pick us up, by the way,” he starts rambling right on, “I’ve never been to Las Vegas before. And we’re even going to watch a game? How exciting! Should I make something for your team? A good luck something maybe? Is there a grocery store close to your house? Can we stop? Maybe I could do a few apple pies and a strawberry one...?”

“You can make me food all day, B,” Kent smiles so wide and white down at him and just swipes his bag right up out of Bitty’s hand like it weighs nothing at all. “My favorite pie is peach, just in case you were wondering.”

Bitty slaps him right on the arm, absolutely offended. “Kenneth Virgil Parson the Third, like I wouldn’t already know what your favorite pie is! Why of all the nerve!”

And that is how Bitty talked himself right out of the AHL conversation with Jack. At least, for the time being. 

**

In the end, he makes two apples, two strawberries, and three peach pies, one for Kenny to keep at home.

Jack mutters under his breath about the Falcs needing a peach pie, and Bitty can absolutely do that once they get back home. 

The boys are wonderful at keeping him company in Kent’s big kitchen while he works, staying out of his way unless he directs them. 

“It’s not going to be a super exciting game. The Schooners are old rivals since before I came to the Aces,” Kenny shrugs, fish oven mitts on, and his own apron is really just Kit’s face blown up on a white background.

But the man’s fish oven mitt is–

Wait for it

– named Fish.

Because Kent is a master at naming things, obviously.

Kit Puurson is laying on the kitchen table from where Bitty banished her from walking along the counters while he’s baking.

“Now, don’t sell it short, sugar pie,” Bitty replies absently, makes the lattice on the last pie perfect. The A in the center is going to be great once the pie finishes baking. “It’s going to be exciting to see you play live no matter what.”

“Aw,” and Kent is smiling all nice at him now that he probably knows Bitty’s not gunning for his boyfr- for Jack, “you’re just saying that because it’s true.”

“Of course I am, Kent. It is true.”

“Any time you get bored of watching the Falcs, all you have to do is call me, Bits. I’ll have you on a plane in a hot minute,” and Bitty has to look over at him for that because it might have been a chirp at Jack, but the tone was a lil’ too serious for his taste.

“Who knows, Mister Parson, I might take you up on that someday.”

(When hell freezes over.)

“I hope so, Bits,” Kent’s eyes go to the masterpieces on the counter waiting for their turn in the oven, “I really hope so.”

*

At the game later that night, before the Aces take the ice, Bitty gets a Snap from Kent Parson. 

All the pie pans are licked clean. Not a crumb in sight.

Bitty sighs in unmitigated relief.

Even though he feels strange not wearing a Falconers or Samwell jersey when he’s at a hockey game, he can’t blame Jack for leaving their home team merchandise back in Providence. 

Earlier, Kent had tugged an Ace's jersey over his head and landed a cap as the cherry on top, winking at him while Jack was busy grumbling to himself about something or other. 

It feels odd to have someone’s name across his back other than his own (or frankly Zimmermann because Jack already gave him two hoodies and several other Falcs shirts, which was real kind of him, and they’re such nice clothes!), but his Mama would fly up from Georgia and whoop his butt good if she knew he’d refused a gift from a celebrity. 

So, even with Jack scowling, he accepts the jersey and hat for the game tonight.

He and Jack find their seats, right behind the bench, and it looks like they can finally settle in.

Jack keeps a running monologue of stats and predictions, leaning in to Bitty while eating the carrot sticks they'd packed in so Jack wouldn't be tempted with junk food.

This boy and his rigid schedule of cheat days. Honestly.

And Bitty is content to talk hockey and the upcoming season, is content to talk about the Samwell team and the next game coming up. 

He gets to watch Kent and the Aces make an opening lap around the rink to wave at their fans, laughs at the finger guns right in their direction.  

He settles on in to watch what will probably be a good game no matter what Kent said earlier, and of course, Jack chooses then to bring it up.

"Are you going to tell me about the Rebels anytime soon?” Jack is watching the game when he finally says it, something in his tone of voice that sounds a little closer to mad.

Bitty looks over, guilty as sin, and Jack looks back, all kind of calm.

“I...I didn’t make a decision or anything–” he starts then turns away from those blue eyes. “I-I should go get us something to drink! Jack, what do you want to–”

He’s halfway out of his chair, but Jack’s hand on his wrist stops him, pulls him back down to his seat.

“Don’t be mad!” Bitty sighs, loud and long, “I didn’t even know what to do when Mr. McLean came to see me.”

Jack hums, “You could have called your best friend who happens to be a professional hockey player.”

“That will be enough chirps outta you, Mister Zimmermann. You were already having a time with the changes to your medication, and I didn’t want to add anything else to your list.”

Jack guffaws at him, “that was two months ago, Bits, and my anxiety is under control. You could have told me anytime since then.”

“Well, I–” and Bitty has a moment where his mouth almost runs right away with him, and he almost tells Jack they ain’t datin’ so not everything has to be out in the open.

“You?”

And even though Kent has the puck, Jack’s eyes are all for Bitty.

“Jack,” he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right bud?” And that line between his eyebrows lets Bitty know Jack is actually concerned.

“Of course, Jack, I...I just. I don’t know, you’ve got your own career to worry about, and I don’t even know if I still want to play hockey after graduation, nonetheless with a team in the AHL.” He shrugs lamely, pretty sure Jack probably thinks he’s an idiot.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, Bits. You don’t have to make a decision right away.”

“Well, I’ve got about five days until he wants to know if I accept their offer,” Bitty rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink. 

“Oh. Well, you should let me read the contract anyway, eh? At the very least, it could help you make a decision if the offer isn’t for much.”

“If– I mean, if you want to? That would be real nice.”

“Euh. Tomorrow morning after my run, we’ll look at it.” Jack gives a sharp nod like he’s accomplished something, pats Bitty on the shoulder, and goes back to the game, just as pleased as pie.

**

The win was really something for the Aces, and he gets to meet Swoops, Poots, Scrappy, and Gopher when Kent tells them the baker of the pies is at the game.

“Oh my God, I ate like three pieces,” Swoops pats him on the shoulder and laughs.

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”

“Oh totally. Gopher can’t help himself around sweets, so you might get a marriage proposal if you aren’t careful.”

“O-oh my! That’s mighty sweet, but I would hate to have to break his poor heart.” Bitty laughs a little and doesn’t notice how Jack’s eyes narrow. 

It’s entertaining as all get out when Jack groans at the amount of chirps he’s already gotten for being a Falc instead of an Ace.

“He’s got important...things in Rhode Island,” Kent had finally said to his team, which Bitty did not understand at all.

(But, it does make sense. Jack wants to stay close to Shitty and everyone from Samwell. He couldn’t be part of their nearly everyday lives if he had joined the Aces.)

They drop by Kent’s house to change clothes, and head out to celebrate the victory with the team, and all that fluttering around his room at the Haus is suddenly worth it when he looks damn good in his button-up with a black tank top underneath and a pair of shorts that look like they’ve been painted on his ass.

When he comes downstairs, Kent wolf whistles and Jack gets red in the face.

“Are you sure–” Jack starts, a little stuttery that makes Bitty preen.

“Mister Zimmermann, it’s best you do not finish that sentence,” Bitty snipes with his nose in the air.

It’s absolutely satisfying when two very cute boys dance with him at the club, grinding on him and having a heck of a good time.

He doesn’t notice Jack’s sour face until the third or fourth song in, and by then, Kent is making his way through the crowd. 

The hand on his arm pulls him out from between two different boys, and Bitty is just about to give whoever it is what for, but Kent just shifts to grip his hips and pulls him in, back-to-chest. 

And Lord help him, Kent is an amazing dancer. How does he even get himself into these things?

** 

Watching his favorite person, favorite people, dance is giving Jack too many Ideas.

He already has plenty when it comes to Bits. Even more when it comes to Kenny since they have history to fall back on, but for Kenny and Bits? His brain might shut down because Jack is even more invested in that. 

(Kenny hasn’t said anything, but Jack knows him, knows what the look in those eyes means when he watches Bitty. Instead of Kenny trying to talk him into asking Bitty for a date, maybe Jack should be trying to do the same. Or-or talking about if all three of them…?)

As is, Jack has a lot more thinking to do after this trip.

“I swear I take care of him as much as he lets me,” Jeff is saying, “it’s not like it’s his first year anymore. He’s way past all that, Jack.”

“I know,” Jack downs his beer, tries not to be too irritated at Swoops because of the attitude. Since he and Kenny have been talking again, he knows more about that first year with the Aces and Kenny’s struggles after the Draft than he’d wanted to know at the time. He hadn’t wanted to focus on the difficulties his best friend was having with a new career as a professional athlete, was more concerned about getting himself through rehab. 

He’s been finding out about those struggles and bad times, feels better knowing about all the things he’d missed out on back then because that means Kenny is talking to him again.

(“You cut me out!” Still haunts Jack sometimes when he thinks about how he did that to his best friend, his other half. At the time, it had seemed like a trade he didn’t have any other choice but to make, give up his best friend for the chance to get better.)

Jeff was the Ace Kenny billeted with his first year, and the two are close. Maybe even closer than Jack and Kenny had been in the Q. 

He doesn’t deserve to be jealous of that, but somehow, he still is.

“I did him wrong when he was in the Draft,” Jack finally admits to Swoops, “and I’m glad he had you and the team there when he needed you. I just...I just want to make sure he’s okay. Kenny means a lot to me.”

Swoops raises a brow over the beer he’s drinking. “He was pretty torn up over you that first year, Zimmermann. If I could have, I would have found you and punched you right in the nose for that kid.”

Jack shrugs a shoulder, “would have deserved it.”

“Yeah, yeah you would have,” but it seems like the salt has gone out of Jeff’s spine, and he slumps down in his seat across from Jack. “I had to tell the team not to mention your name for a long time. Not gonna lie, when you got picked for the Falcs, I drove over to his place and stayed the night in case he had a breakdown.”

And oh does that hit Jack right in the heart. 

“But, he was...not okay but okay? He was happy for you, is the point.”

Jack’s heart twists painfully at that, “Euh. He’s a better friend than I deserve.”

“You know, he told me about going to your college, right?”

Jack looks Swoops in the face, thinks he might get a little more clarity about that night of the Epikegster.

“Yeah, he did,” because Jeff can read the tell me more on Jack’s face, “and he beat himself up about it for months. Told me he ran off at the mouth because he was angry at you. Hell, you weren’t even happy to see him.”

At the time, no. No, he wasn’t. 

“It was...a shock. We both said some pretty harsh things, I think. But, we’ve come a long way since then.”

“I’d say so. He can say your name without looking like he’s going to start crying now at least.”

Kenny…

“I’m not going to do that again,” Jack feels like he needs Jeff to know this. “He’s stuck with me this time, eh?”

Swoops laughs and raises his glass for Jack to tap with his own, “here’s hoping, Zimmermann. Here’s hoping. But hey, at least he has someone to help pick-up the pieces.”

**

Kent manages to get them through the throng of people at the bar and get them bottles of water, bracketing Bitty in with his arms to keep people around from jostling them.

They’re both sweaty and panting after the last song, and Bitty doesn’t even know how he managed to survive pretty much humping a professional hockey player on the dance floor without embarrassing himself.

“That was so fun,” Kent leans down to talk in his ear since they’re so close to the music, “can we dance some more?”

“Of course we can, honey,” Bitty tilts so he’s talking in Kent’s ear, and it presses them closer together, “but do you need to check in with your team?”

The laugh is low against his neck and Bitty almost, almost shudders.

“My guys are big boys, Bits. They’ll be fine without me mother-henning them to death.”

“Well, all right then, handsome. You’d better get me on out on that dance floor before someone else does!”

And it’s another song or so before they get a slow one. Kent manages to maneuver them into a corner, and pulls Bits in for a slow dance.

“Lord, that was fun,” Bitty doesn’t think much of it, his hands around Kent’s neck. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in a while.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” and Kent gives him that big ole’ smile that makes his whole face light up, and Bitty can’t really blame just one bit for just how cute Kent is in that moment. “I’m glad you came with Jack, Bits.”

“Me too. I had reservations with how close we’re getting to playoffs, but I’m glad I could take the time.”

The hands on his hips squeeze once, and Kent’s face falls, his eyes darting away.

Bitty moves a hand from around his neck to his face and turns him right on back. “Hey, what is it? Should we go?”

“N-no, no. I was just–” and Kent looks back at him with a frown, leans in a little to talk quieter. “Do you still hate me? From when I came to your college?”

And oh. Oh my.

Well, looks like they’re going to have this talk, aren’t they?

“I mean, it’s okay if you do. I was...a dick, okay? I was a complete and total dick. Zimms and I talked about it some, so-so he gets why I said some of the things I said because I mean, he just–and-and I… There’s a lot is all I’m saying. It was awful, not-not all of it, but therapy kind of helps a little? Sometimes it helps I mean, dealing with it when I found him like that, and then later when Big Bob–”

Bitty gently puts a hand over Kent’s mouth to shush him on up. 

“Kent, honey,�� he tries softly, misses how those eyes get wide above his hand, “I understand how someone can say mean things when feelings are hurt, and it seems like you and Jack have mended fences since then, right?”

Kent nods without dislodging his hand, but his eyes are shiny and just oh, that poor boy. Jack had talked to him about those days back in Quebec with Kent Parson as his right-hand man, Bitty knows Kent is the one that saved Jack’s life during that overdose. He knows how quiet and strained Jack’s voice gets when he talks about it, can only imagine how terrified Kent had been finding him, performing CPR, getting him to the hospital in Bad Bob Zimmermann’s car.

He can’t touch that painful past for either of them, wishes sometimes he can give that back when he hears how wistful Jack sounds, sees how Kent sometimes looks like he has regrets. No, Bitty can’t fix their past for them, give them back their innocent days, but he can help the people they are in the here and now, can’t he?

“Well, that’s good to hear. What’s really important is that you don’t do that again, all right? Don’t take your anger out on Jack even if he might deserve it sometimes, and don’t ever say those horrible things to him again. Okay?”

Kent blinks at him and his eyes go softly half-mast. He finally nods with Bitty’s hand still over his mouth.

“Good. Then, we’re all fine, right?”

Another nod and a squeeze to his hips.

“Wonderful. Now Mister Parson, we are going to finish this song and then go back to your boys to celebrate. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll play ‘Crazy in Love’ later because that is one of my favorites.” He takes his hand away and grins up at Kent while his heart beats harder at the soft smile looking down on him.

“Good plan, B. If they play it, you can only dance with me, okay?”

“Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?”

Sure enough, the DJ plays ‘Crazy in Love’ and Bitty is pretty sure Kent’s the one that asked for it. That absolutely doesn’t mean he gives it any less ass shaking than it rightfully deserves.

**

He’s happy to see Jack laughing with Swoops and Poots when they finally tear themselves away from dancing, and Bitty absolutely refuses to drink whatever fruity thing Kent offers him because he’s not twenty-one quite yet, thank-you very much Mister Parson.

But the Aces are so nice when they leave, thanking Bitty again for his victory pies. He waves them off and doesn’t mind Jack’s hand at the small of his back when Kent guides them out.

(Later that night, he pretends he doesn’t hear Jack get up off the couch and walk down the hall to Kent’s room and softly close the door. But at that point, he’s not sure if he’s still a little jealous, or even who he’s really jealous of if he’s honest with himself.)

He eventually gets a few hours of sleep, and still wakes up god-awful early anyhow.

Since he’s been in this kitchen for three days already, he automatically puts on coffee and pulls out what he’s going to need to feed two big hockey players. 

He doesn’t even register Kent in the doorway watching him until the first cup of coffee is gone and the second is on the way there.

“Oh my Lord!” He fairly screams when he notices Kent watching.

“Sorry,” is totally unrepentant, the ass.

“You sure look it!” Bitty chirps back after his heart has climbed down out of his throat. “Goodness sakes, were you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Nah, you just look cute in my kitchen, all busy and stuff. I like it.”

And well, that just takes the words right out of his mouth, so he goes back to make sure the bacon doesn’t burn while the quiche cools.

“Bits?!”

Jack is flustered and drenched from the shower, skittering almost right on the ground. He’s only got a towel around his waist and his hair is all over the place.

Bitty can resolutely say it’s the best morning in the history of mornings because that towel is awful short and Jack’s legs are awful long.

“I’m sorry! He just surprised me, we’re fine!” Bitty flaps his hands to shoo Jack out of the doorway. “Go on now and finish your shower. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Jack wipes water out of his eyes from his dripping hair and looks down at him silently.

“I promise, Jack. Go on now. Shoo! Naked is for the bathroom and the locker room.”

The slow grin is really just the nail in the coffin because no man should be that beautiful, it’s really not fair to the gay population. 

A glance at Kent’s shit-eating grin and he has to silently amend that statement. No men should be this beautiful.

While Jack trucks back down the hall, Bitty grabs paper towels to sop up the water he’d trailed, giving them up to Kent when he gets a frown for trying to clean up.

He tisks to himself and pours Kent a cup of coffee, mixing in the right amounts of cream and sugar, hands it to him when he throws away the wet paper towels.

He puts the bacon on another paper towel to get some of the grease while Kent sits down with his coffee. 

“I had so much fun last night. I can’t thank-you enough for taking us.” As he puts the quiche in the middle of the table.

“I had fun, too, B. Most the guys won’t dance no matter what, and you are awesome.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, sugar pie.”

Kent laughs at him, but reaches out to grip Bitty’s wrist before he can go back to the stove, “but, just so I know...you really don’t hate me anymore, right? We’re friends now?”

Oh, this must be the I need to tell you as Jack’s friend that me and him are datin’ talk. Lord, help him get through this conversation.

“Now, Kent. I already told you last night as long as you don’t hurt Jack like that again and have significantly groveled, we’re all fine.”

“Yeah, I know, but I mean, you and me. We’re fine, too, right?”

“Why of course we are.”

“Okay. Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure.”

Bitty pats Kent’s hand with the free one, “and you already know you can talk to me about anything, right? If things like that are bothering you, you can talk them out with me before you go and say something like that again, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bits.”

“You’re welcome, Kent.”

He retracts his hand with another pat and goes back for the bacon, waiting for the something else that might be on Mr. Parson’s mind.

“Bits?”

Mmhm. There is it. “Yes, Kent?”

“You...can call me Kenny, too...I mean, if you want.”

The bacon plate in hand, and Bitty turns to look at the pink cheeks on Kent Parson, the way he doesn’t meet Bitty’s surprised eye.

(Even with all his team and the press coverage, he’s only ever heard Jack call Kent ‘Kenny.’)

“All right then, Kenny,” and oh is he grinning, thinking about chirping him just for fun. “I think we’re just about ready for breakfast.”

Nothing else comes of it, and Bitty’s not sure if he’s relieved or not.

 **

Jack slowly, methodically reads through the scans of the Rebels contract he’s got back at Samwell. Kent reads over his shoulder, eyebrows squinty in concentration.

Lord, they look so cute like that. It’s really surprising no one else has picked up on the dating yet because these two are absolutely transparent.

“So–”

He gets twin wait a minute fingers. 

“Well fine then,” and he meanders in the kitchen to see if maybe he should make those peppermint cookies after all. 

A batch later and both boys come on in and sit at the table with the tablet between them.

Bitty absolutely puts the cookies in the middle and pours glasses of milk. Kent looks from the plate to him with wide eyes. 

Two seconds later, he’s already demolishing his third.

Boys.

“All right, you two. Give me the low-down.” Bitty waves a hand over his shoulder and starts washing up dishes.

Jack tells him how it seems to be a right fair offer for a rookie hockey player. The money could be better, but well, it ain’t too shabby. 

Bitty sighs because the money is utterly obscene. More than his scholarship to Samwell for all four years.

Kent has no problem finishing Jack’s thoughts when he trails off, longer in the profession than Jack. He gives more examples of what bad contracts would probably be and makes Bitty wonder if this isn’t his first time helping with these sorts of things.

Well, as Captain of the Aces, he probably has. Not to mention how he babies his rookies. 

“So,” Bitty finally bites on his lip, looking down at the tablet, “so if...if I wanted to keep playing hockey after graduation. This is a good opportunity, is what you’re tellin’ me.”

Both Jack and Kent nod at him, serious as a heart attack.

“This is a good opportunity, Bits.”

“But,” Kent looks at him seriously, “we aren’t agents, either. This is from our experience. For a professional opinion, I can suggest some guys, so can Jack, that can haggle the contract for you.”

He stands at the sink with soapy hands braced on the edges, just looking out the window into Kent’s nice backyard. 

Kit is lounging on a dishtowel right there on the ledge to get some sun.

And just like his worst tendency, Jack stands up with a cookie and saunters over to stand beside him, back against the counter.

“It’s a lot to take in, bud,” is all growly and soft.

“I never imagined playing hockey after this year,” he admits, “buying a bakery, sure. Learning under other chefs, maybe taking a turn in another culinary art, yes. But, professional hockey? Hell, I couldn’t take a check without passin’ out a few years ago, Jack.”

Jack munches on his cookie, watching Bitty’s profile with soft eyes. “True. But, couple years ago, you wouldn’t have thought you’d end up Captain, and be on your way to the Frozen Four, eh?”

Kent shuffles his feet a little but boosts himself up on the counter beside Jack. “The AHL is like, our version of boot camp, you know? The kiddie pool before you hit the NHL. And there’s a four-season standard for that reason, B. You’ve got four seasons to play your best game and see if the Scouts are interested. I mean, a lot of guys that get a bad break and don’t make it, they can renew their contracts every four years or join the practice teams. Guys that still want to play hockey, like a lot of the guys on the Rebs.”

“That offer is for one season, though.” 

“Sure,” Jack fills in, meandering back for another, handing one off to Kent. “It’s a chance to get your feet wet, Bits, see if you can make the first year. I didn’t get a four-year from the Falcs until I got through the probationary period.”

“Lucky they didn’t make you billet, Jack. That’s usually a requirement.”

“Nah, I was old enough. Marty and Tater kept up with me, though. And I had Bits,” Jack shrugs and promises himself this is the last one even as he eyes the full plate.

He glances over at the serious expression on Bitty’s face, thoughts turning behind his eyes because now he’s thinking about it. On one hand, yes, he wants his bud to stay close, be on their sister team’s roster. Pawtucket is only twenty minutes or so from Providence, even closer than Samwell. 

(Jack wouldn’t have to lose him if Bits accepts the offer, keeps playing hockey. Jack thinks he’s terrible for wanting that as much as he does.)

For Bitty, the eminent future is looking closer and closer as this year draws to a close. Getting this offer was terrifying because of all those what if’s?

Kent hums around a mouthful, leans around Jack to look at him. “Sure, but you never know, B. You take Samwell to the ECAC, and there might be more people coming to talk to you.”

“Sugar pie, I’ve seen what you and Jack are up against. If there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of, it’s that I’m not ready for the NHL, no matter how far we go this year. But–” he sighs a little.

“But what, bud?” 

“...the real question is, what if I’m not ready to give it up once the season’s over?”

Kent chuckles at him around the last bite, “then you’ll have a year with the Rebels to figure out if you’re done with hockey, or not.”

He catches his breath a little (could it really be as simple as that?).

“...that’s what I needed to know, thank-you boys.” He pats Kent on the leg and Jack on the arm, taking up the tablet, swinging right around to go back to the stove and wait for the next batch, hip hitched on the cabinets while he reads all over again.

He’s going to call Coach and Mama when he gets back to Samwell. Then on Monday morning, he’s going to call Mr. McLean and accept the offer.

 ** 

It’s not his fault most the people he’s friends with are so much taller than him. 

Really, it’s not. 

So when Kent just grabs him up before he and Jack get on the plane and hugs him tight for long minutes, Bitty’s feet dangle off the ground, but he’s pretty much used to it by now. Shitty broke him of it first, Holster helped.

“I’m going to miss you,” is said against his shoulder because he thinks Kent might just be tearing up.

Because of Jack.

Because Jack’s leaving.

Right?

With his feet still dangling, he pats the back of Kent’s head soothingly. “I’ll miss you too, honey. But, it’s not forever, right? We’ll see you again.”

Kent eventually put him down when Jack laid a hand to his shoulder and turned him in for a hug, and Bitty looks away when Kent wraps himself around Jack like an octopus, shoulders shaking just a little. 

Jack makes soothing circles on Kent’s back, talks softly in French, and just holds on for a few long minutes. Bitty makes himself busy by checking their luggage tags and slips away to get them some coffee from one of the twelve Starbucks in the airport.

A caramel frappuccino helps a little, and Kent just sweeps him on up again.

Jack keeps a hand on the back of Kent’s neck until the very last second, and something in Bitty’s chest tightens a little, but for the very first time, he’s not sure if it’s for Jack touching Kent like that or if it’s for Kent being all upset they’re leaving.

Something to think about another day.

As is, he’s got a thesis to write, a team to take care of, and a pair of professional hockey players that need fresh baked goods. His plate is pretty much full.

** 4

His vlog has always been somewhere to vent when he needed to, and even if he doesn’t have a huge following with millions of subscribers (yet), he didn’t think things would turn out this way.

But, the school newspaper he usually ignores puts it right out there for everyone to read.

Eric Bittle of Samwell’s Own Hockey Team is the First Out Captain in the NCAA

Dex is there to put a hand on his shoulder when he feels like he suddenly can’t breathe.

Someone watched his vlog and picked up on a few things apparently (“Never fall for a straight boy.” Those words are going to haunt him forever). 

He’s out to the team, but not the rest of campus. Good Lord. Hopefully no one pays it any mind, and they can just ride right along to the next game.

It does not go away.

Instead, the news catches fire, and before he knows it, his face is on ESPN as the first out NCAA captain. The rainbow background isn’t doing him any favors, but in between the panic in his brain, he thinks the yellow of the spectrum looks real nice with those shorts.

Chowder is the one that calls him in to look at the breaking story, looking over the couch to take note of Bitty’s face. 

He shows how much his reflexes have improved when he throws himself over the couch and latches on when Bitty’s knees fail and he almost sprawls himself all over the floor. 

His phone is in his hand, and Chowder is talking, saying something. He didn’t know when Ollie and Wicks, Dex and Nursey, Tango and Whiskey and Foxtrot, River, Hops, and Louis all got there crowded around him, but he just seems to blink and there they all are.

“I,” he starts loudly, immediately quieting everyone with a single word, “am going to make a pie. Everyone is welcome to hang out while I am doing so.”

So, he makes a pie and while he does, he makes a plan.

He talks out how this could affect the team’s chances of getting to the Championship, how this could affect how they play, how they plan to win the next few games. Bitty thinks it might be smart to step down as captain, being pragmatic as possible now that he’s not panicking about finishing the season and his senior year at Samwell. 

Whiskey, who he hadn’t been able to connect with all darn season (more n’ likely because he found Whiskey at that party kissing the Lax bro), smashes his fist on the table and says that’s a whole lotta bull. Bitty’s the one that got them this far, and he’ll take them the rest of the way.

(Bitty still has several talks in the next few days. With the coaching staff, with Samwell administration, with the entire gathered team. He gives all of them the same option. He’ll give up being captain or all out quit the team if this would hurt their changes to go to the Frozen Four. He gets the same denial, loud and belligerent from his whole team –which warms his heart, honestly. They’re all such good boys.)

They decide to handle it one game at a time, and break for the night. In his room with coppery fear still in the back of his mouth, he holds his phone and stares at the contact information for Home. 

He’s almost pressed it when a FaceTime request comes from Kent.

Almost at the same time Jack doesn’t bother to knock, but just throws his bedroom door open, looking like he’d run miles.

Throwing himself to his feet, both hands up, he probably looks terrified because Jack scared the absolute heck out of him. 

“Bits,” and now it’s Jack that’s got both hands up, coming at him, “Bits, it’s okay. It’s okay, bud.” And he really means to say something, but he’s just all caught up in Jack. He smells so good and feels so nice, he’s strong when Bitty feels weak and shaky, picking him right on up and sitting down to fold over him like a big Canadian blanket.

“What a horrible way to be outed,” he laughs through the shakes, but his voice is hoarse. “This is absolutely awful, Jack.”

“God, it really is. I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Bits.”

“Lord, I’m making a fool of myself. What’s done is done, I suppose.”

“Still, I want to be here for you.”

“Oh, honey. I appreciate it.”

And he just lets himself sink into Jack a little, burying his face in Jack’s neck, just tries to breathe.

His phone goes off again, and this time Jack picks it up, sees who it is, and taps the top of Bitty’s head with it.

He thumbs the request without looking, just keeping his face right where it is. This is the best he’s felt since that awful ticker tape just laid out his biggest secret, and put a big ole’ target right on his back.

“Hi Kenny,” and he’s proud his voice sounds as steady as it does.

“Hey B,” is so soft and concerned, his heart gives a little patter. 

Jack holds the phone for him with one hand, and squeezes him tight with the other. 

“This sucks so hard, B. I’m so sorry ESPN gives a fuck about college sports enough to do something shitty like this.”

He raises his face just enough for Kent to see half his face out of Jack’s bulk. “One of those silly human interest stories, I guess. Too bad they got a little too interested, huh?”

“You can totally sue the shit out of them, okay? B, I know a guy. He could get you millions.”

“That won’t make everything right, Kenny, but thank-you for being here with me.” He gives a shuddering sigh, “I’m still going to have to deal with the backlash, and as much as I hate it, so will the team. I haven’t talked to the administration or the coaches, but it might be smart if I step down for the rest of the season, maybe quit outright. Then the boys might still be able to make it to the Frozen Four…”

“You’re two games away, B. You can’t give up now!”

“Agree. You got them here, they’ll have your back, Bits.”

“Kenny, Jack this is hockey. Everyone we go against from here on out is going to be gunning for us. The things they’re going to say to the boys–”

“They’ll handle it. Trust me,” Jack soothes, “they won’t let you give up either.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see come Monday,” he’s tired, but there’s no slowing down right now, even if Kent is petting Kit and Jack’s lap is absurdly comfortable.

“Besides,” Kent continues, “you’re not alone, B. Plenty of us in the NHL. We’re just not like, out out. Maybe to our teams and stuff, not like, outed on ESPN or anything, fuck those guys. You seriously don’t want me to contact my guy for you? He got 6.8 million dollars for a celebrity case–”

“So you’re out to your team then, Captain Parson?” He blinks because the way Kent just came out with it, not a stutter one, shakes him.

“Huh? Well, yeah, of course I am. I’ve been on the Aces for years, Bits. These guys are like my family, so yeah, they know.”

“O-oh.”

Kent blinks at him, pauses. “Ah, I didn’t come right out and tell you, but yeah. Me too, so it’s okay, B. You’re not alone.”

It’s that moment when Jack leans down, shifting so Bitty’s looking up at him. “You’re not alone,” Jack repeats softly, “I kiss boys sometimes, too. None of that changes how good you are at hockey, and none of that changes you, okay Bits?”

And Lord above help him. He throws both arms around Jack, biting his lower lip between his teeth, and shaking like a leaf in a wind storm.

“Jack...Kenny…thank-you, boys. Just when I need you, and there you are.” He chokes a little, and there’s Jack folding down around him, there’s Kent holding Kit closer to the phone, sending virtual purrs and cuddles.

He doesn’t feel that bad wrapping his legs around Jack’s waist shamelessly, locking his ankles in the back, and just not facing the world for a while. 

It gets a little better when Jack tries to squeeze into a pair of his shorts while Kenny is brushing his teeth and talking about the camp they had at a local rink, running drills and plays with some of the high school kids from around the area. 

But everything in the world absolutely pauses when Jack clears his throat awkwardly

And really, God Bless Canada. 

The little sigh that comes out of him is echoed from his phone, and yes Kenny, they do have good taste.

“I can’t sleep in these, Bits, ah, sorry.”

But that color blue stretched taunt against Jack’s big thigh is just the best sight he’s probably ever seen.

“I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got to offer. I can go talk to Dex?” Because Chowder has wider shoulders like Jack, but is about a foot shorter.

“Eh, not necessary.”

And well, yes. Bitty knows Jack wears cute little briefs. They were on a team together, have spent time in the locker room, have seen the occasional moment before towels go on. It’s men’s sports for crying out loud. 

But none of that, absolutely none of that, prepares him for Jack shimmying out of those shorts for black briefs that absolutely mold to his behind and cup the front of him. The real coup de gras is that t-shirt coming off, and heaven help him, it’s muscles for miles. 

Only those little briefs between Bitty and what the Good Lord gave Jack, the definition of fine walking across the room like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. 

Bitty unabashedly watches, lips parted, cheeks a soft shade of pink. 

Jack closes the bathroom door, smirking where Bits can’t see, muffled noises as he roots around in the bathroom for a spare toothbrush. It gives Bitty can just take a second to himself to take in this whole situation. 

He’s been outed on a national sports network that may or may not take the question of the Rebels right out of the equation

Chances of going all the way to the finals is looking slimmer and slimmer the more he thinks about it

Jack and Kenny confirmed some of his suspicions and it’s an absolute crime and a blessing that they’ve found each other again

Jack has gotten bulkier than Bitty realized in the last year and a half playing for the NHL and his ass should be marked as a dangerous weapon

He hasn’t answered any of the phone calls from home

Still, Coach sent him a text, Call your mother. She’s worried about you.

 And top of the list, Jack Zimmermann is in his bathroom, shirtless, barefoot, after just having verbally come out to him.

If there was ever anyone that deserves to be up for Sainthood, it’s this good ole’ Georgia boy Right. Here. 

With his head in his hands, he groans softly, and scurries to throw on his own sleep clothes, stripping down without a thought more than those short on Jack and those shorts off Jack.

“I absolutely feel you,” a breathy chirp, and he forgot Kenny probably saw the entire thing.

Bitty spins, almost ready to start getting on a boat down that river called denial when he realizes Kenny is giving him the most devilish looking smile.

“It’s really unfair that he’s a hockey God and blisteringly hot to boot.”

“We are the best of friends, I’ll have you know Mister Parson. Jack doesn’t even see me that way, even after tonight. Besides, I’m pretty sure he’s got his eye set on someone prettier than little ole’ me.”

He throws the covers back to busy his hands, but can spare a second to put some charm into it and look back at Kenny with a wink. 

It’s either the best or the worst timing because Kenny gets this look on his face, opening his mouth for something that might have been good or bad, when Jack comes out of the bathroom smelling like mint and looking like a touch could burn you down to the ground.

Kenny looks at him for a few long seconds while they’re climbing into bed, and chirps them about hands above the comforter and hockey bros cuddle like champs before he yawns and finally hangs up for the night.

The sheet gets maneuvered between them so he’s not going to be tortured most of the night with only his sleep shirt and pants between them–

(and those sinful underwear, he’s never going to forget those)

–so it’s suspiciously easy to drop off with Jack’s arm around him and snoring in his ear.

**

The next two games are utterly brutal. 

Ice bags are wrapped around his shoulder while he sits in his spot in the locker room, forearms on his knees to just hurt while Chowder is talking at his right and Dex at his left.

The bruises tomorrow are going to be beautiful, but heck, what’s some bruises when Samwell is officially in the Frozen Four.

Lord, they made it.

And he will start celebrating, right after he can raise up his arm again.

Oh, that’s going to be sore tomorrow. Making pies for the campus captain club is going to be awful, isn’t it?

He manages to get the ice bags off in time to walk with the boys back to the Haus, Ollie already scooping up his bag and Chowder, bless his heart, hovering anxiously right by him the whole walk there.

They don’t make him do a keg stand this time, thank goodness, but the party celebrating their win is well underway in less than an hour.

It’s real nice when the Lax bros bring in a stack of pizzas and slap him on the back in congratulations, like he hadn’t just been outed on national television. (He loves Samwell so much.) Chad L. says a whole bunch of something that Bitty tries to follow and ends up handing him a plate with pizza and accepting a piece of pie in exchange. 

The fire extinguisher is in plain sight to remind the footballers what could happen if they don’t behave, and at least two of his boys hang around him most the night, bracketing him on both sides to keep an eye on him. Ollie and Wicks pop around the corner periodically anyhow.

He catches Chowder taking a picture for social media, has a second of panic, almost tells his sweet son not to do that because everyone knows, but shuts his mouth last minute and straightens up to grin for the next one.

**

The night the news came out, Bitty changed his social media to private, hoping to avoid some of the homophobic comments. Since the morning after (and it’s a crying shame he missed seeing those little black briefs again since Jack was already dressed by the time he got up), he’s been talking to pretty much everyone.

Most of all, his Mama and Coach...and Mr. McLean.

Jack squeezes his hand, and Bitty bites his lip, but still, “I’m afraid I don’t think I should accept your offer after all. This isn’t going to blow over any time soon.”

“Mr. Bittle. I’m interested because you’re fast, you’ve got soft hand, and you’re a good fit for the Rebels. As far as I understand, this isn’t going to change any of that.”

“O-oh!”

“If you want to play hockey, Mr. Bittle, you can do that with us.”

And it’s there when he looks in Jack’s blue, blue eyes, when he thinks about Ollie and Wicks, when he thinks about Shitty being so kind when he’d come out to the first person on the team. It’s there when he thinks about being terrified at that first check practice, when he thinks about how dang far he’s come in four years.

(It’s tough, but you’re tougher.)

“I want to play hockey, Mr. McLean.”

“That’s the spirit Mr. Bittle. I’ll send you training camp information in the next week or so. Welcome to the Pawtucket Rebels.”

If Jack holds him tight while he almost shakes apart once he hangs up the phone, well, only Chowder and Dex will ever tell a soul because they fell on him and Jack like a ton of bricks, hugging him and laughing.

**

Shitty, Ranson, Holster, and Lardo make the trip from Boston to show up on the Haus doorstep before they’ve even finished clean-up from the party the night before.

Before he knows it, he’s got Shitty crying all over him, telling him he’s so proud and Bitty’s just the best little captain there ever was.

It’s so nice because Shitty is silly as hell, but he’s an amazing friend in times of need. 

And he can’t say it isn’t nice when Shitty picks up the loud speaker and starts shooing the rest of the hanger-oners out.

“Frozen Four!” Ransom crows, “our guys are going to kick some ass.”

“You said it, bro,” Holster warmly pats Bitty on the shoulder with one of those big hands while this pie is just coming along easily enough.

The flinch when the bruises ache is enough for more ice bags to get wrapped around him, and Shitty to shake a finger in his face, talking about taking care of himself. It might not be a concussion, but they’ve got serious games coming up, and he needs to be tip top if he’s going to take them all the way.

Bitty takes it to heart and lets them baby him for a few hours.

It does get worse when Dex and Chowder see Holster pulling the neck of his shirt up a little to check how bad it is, and then he’s got more hockey players in his kitchen butting in. Luckily, Dex is getting just as good at making pie as Bitty, and finishes up the lattice work perfectly.

He talks strategy with Ransom and Holster at the kitchen table while Lardo makes another pot of coffee, and Chowder subtly slips the bottle of ibuprofen next to him. Whiskey listen to them strategize for the upcoming games, and my, don’t it feel so normal.

He hugs Shitty again, holds on just as tight as he can, and thanks the Good Lord for such amazing friends.

**

Mama and Coach are more understanding than he ever would have imagined, taken in account what a shock it is just to come across the television like that.

“Dickey, honey, now you know,” and she has to pause because Lord, his Mama is crying, “you know you can always come home. Always. No matter what. We love you. We love you and everything else, we can figure all that out.”

And so, since he’s never said it, only thought about what could happen, he tells her, “Mama… I’m gay.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know and that’s-that’s fine. We can figure it all out. But, you can come home sometime before the semester ends, can’t you?”

“N-not while we’re close to the Championships, Mama. I-I can’t–”

“Junior.” 

And now he’s glad he just called instead of trying to FaceTime. So glad he doesn’t have to look Coach in the face right now.

“You’ve done a heck of a job this year. Been a good captain. You know me and your mama are proud, don’t you Junior?”

And there goes his lip all trembling, his eyes getting hot. Only Jack squeezing his hand keeps him together at all.

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Good. You just keep fighting. We’ll be here cheering you on, all right?”

His breath hitches in his chest, “yes, Daddy.”

“That’s my boy. You can do it, Junior. They’re tough–”

“–but I’m tougher,” and he’s covering his eyes, shoulder hunching down. Jack goes from holding his hand to pretty much lifting him up enough to slide on Jack’s lap.

“That’s right, son. You sure as hell are.”

He sighs out, a soft noise. “I am, Daddy. We made the Frozen Four.”

“Go get ‘im. Me and your Mama are behind you all the way.”

And even if Coach gets squicky when it’s time for I love you, Bitty manages to get it out anyhow.

“Love you too, son. Now you gotta stop, or else your mama’s gonna drown me.”

The thick laugh is so much better than crying. Jack thinks so too apparently, squeezing tight while Bitty’s sitting on his thighs.

If he thinks there’s a kiss pressed to the top of his head, well, he’s just going to blame it on being emotionally overwrought and leave it at that.

**

He didn’t bother with pads, just pants, sweatshirt, gloves, stick, helmet, and skates. The ice is quiet as can be in the morning light bouncing off Faber, making it beautiful.

Kenny’s far enough ahead of them that he’s on a break from practice, already home making brunch. “Big Red is going to be killer, B. Cornell is ruthless. Fighting Hawks from North Dakota.”

His skates cut through the ice until he’s gliding, hitting the long stretch, pumping as fast as his legs can take him, cycling the puck. 

He doesn’t reply to Kenny, just listens while his muscles burn, his mind works, he sees the next move like a playbook. 

Over the past four years, he’s gotten stronger, faster. Sure, he’s smaller than the average hockey player, but that don’t mean weak. Everyone they’ve played already figured that one out now didn’t they?

His arms and shoulders burn when he swings high, throws some muscle in it when he slaps the puck right in the sweet spot of the net.

“No fair, B. I want to watch!”

“I’d have to set my phone in the stands, sugar pie.”

“If that means I get to watch you do suicides, I’m on board.”

Bitty laughs out loud because Lord, he sounds like Jack. 

“Trying to kill me before practice?”

“Captain’s prerogative, babe.”

Obligingly, Bitty sets up his helmet, laying on it’s side, throws a t-shirt in it to hold the phone up, and FaceTimes Kenny.

He gives the captain of the Aces a wink and then takes off to the blue line. He’s got his game face on, stick balanced perfectly, moving like his ass is on fire.

After a good turn out, he skates back to the stands where Kenny is very close to the screen. 

“Well, there you go, Captain,” he snickers, scooping up the whole thing so Kent goes around the rink for some easy, cool-down laps with him before the boys start meandering in for practice. “That what you wanted to see?”

“You? Are fast, B. That was incredible.”

“Oh, sugar pie,” he grins down at Kent’s face in his helmet, “you say the nicest things.”

“Hey, I’m not being nice, Bits. I’m saying as a professional hockey player that you? Are fast.”

“Well, so are you. Short guys like us have a tendency to out-maneuver the big guys.”

“I’ve based most of my career on being the fast guy on the team, B, but I don’t know how I’d hold up against you.”

“Mmhm. I also haven’t been playing professionally for the last few years, tearing the fire out of my knee, Kent.” Very serious because he’s counted how many nights he’s seen ice bags over that knee in the last few weeks.

“Also true. It might be surgery for me this summer, but that should do a lot. I’ll have maybe ten years instead of five.”

“So you said. Your doctor is talking about it again?”

“...yeah. He says it should do wonders for where I’m at right now, and this might be the year to just do it and get it over with.”

“Three-time Stanley Cup winner is where you’re at right now, sugar pie.”

The laugh is nice, but now he’s wondering if he can convince Kenny to come to Providence and stay with Jack during his recovery. That’ll let Bitty be close enough to come over and take care of him while his knee heals. He’s already thinking it over when his third lap is coming up.

“B.” Startles him right out of his thoughts.

“Kenny?”

And something is there in the way Kenny is looking at him from the screen. “Be careful at the game tonight. Watch out for the Minnesota D-Men, okay?”

“Thank-you, sugar. You watch on out for those Rangers.”

“I will. Just send me a text when the game is over, even if I’m in overtime, okay?”

“You know it, honey. Now go on and get a nap. We’ve both got a busy night tonight.”

**

This could be the last time he steps out on the ice. This could be it. All of it could end right here right now. 

They’ve got to play their hearts out. He’s got to give it everything he’s got. For himself, for the boys, for Samwell. 

It comes down to this, facing Minnesota’s line like there ain’t no going back.

**

He sits on his bed, faggot and fairy in his head from the game earlier. He doesn’t accept Jack’s call because his face is a mess.  

Well, serves him right because Jack just shows up at the Haus an hour later when Bitty has finally got it together.

**

The check is absolutely brutal. 

He used to be floored by it, curled up in a little ball on the ice, couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely breathe. 

But not this damn time. Oh hell no. 

It’s fast when he’s back up on his feet, shoving his way through bigger men than him and stealing that puck right on out from under them. 

He feels like he’s got wings on his feet when he glides by them like they’re just standing still. 

**

Mama and Coach are here because they’ve come down to the last stand. 

This is it.

Jack and Kenny are both there and where in the world they got #15 Bittle jerseys, he will never know.

Number #82 has already been gunning for him, but the last one is the very last of Eric Bittle’s patience running right on out.

His heart is racing, his legs burning, skates cutting ice as he steers around players, gritting his teeth against the ache, and for the first time, he’s gonna stand up, holler out that no, he’s not gonna take that nonsense lying down.

The moment slows down for long enough that he feels weightless when he pushes off, is airborn, shoving all his weight right into #82 just as they’re at the Samwell bench and shove the both of them right in with the boys.

It’s a tangle of arms and legs and skates and sputtering. 

“Try me again, asshole,” Bitty sneers in #82’s face with the face guards the only thing between them. 

“Homophobic prick!” One of his boys shouts.

Coach and the boys pick him up (shocked because he doesn’t usually have a need for potty mouth thank-you very much), want him to go get checked out while the ref blows the whistle just after Whiskey gets the puck, and now it’s all on Samwell.

He doesn’t get a penalty, thank goodness, and argues loudly with Coach to let him back in the game, he needs to get back. It’s not like he lost a tooth, just some scratches from going over. It’s a long look in his eyes before Coach just throws up his hands and shoos him back. 

And Bitty’s not thinking about Jack and Kenny and Shitty and Lardo and Ransom and Holster and Mama and Daddy and everyone else up in those stands screaming for them when he hits the ice again. He’s not thinking about how badly he hurts or the scratches on his face. He’s not thinking about his thesis or graduation or his spot in Jack’s guest room. 

He’s only thinking about the tied score, the next play, and how they’re going to show these away boys exactly who’s house this is.

**

And his arms strain when his stick comes back, when he slams that puck with every ounce of strength he has left. His heart thuds hard in the back of his mouth when their goalie’s hand shoots out, tries to catch the puck, just the tips of his gloves skimming the surface.

The alarm blares and the scoreboard changes so fast, Bitty’s not really sure what happened until his boys slam into him, gather all around him, screaming.

He’s dazed, fingers limply holding his stick, eyes still stuck on the scoreboard even when they lift him up, stick and all.

The crowd takes to the ice, and he gets his helmet off in time to get hugs from Mama and Coach, in time to accept the huge trophy, him and Coach and Dex holding it up with all the boys around them just a hooting and a hollering all over the place. 

Ransom and Holster catch him right up off his feet, crying all over him when they tell him how proud they are.

The interviews shake him out of the daze and he tells the viewers at home that the team fought hard for this and earned it all themselves. He’s proud to be their teammate and captain, he’s proud to be a Wellie, and darn it, their hard work paid off.

Just as he turns, sees Chowder going past with three of their guys behind him, singing the Samwell song at the top of their lungs, he catches Jack and Kenny standing on the ice by the boards, watching him with soft smiles on their faces, and his eyes get hot abruptly, get full as can be.

Center ice, just like with the Stanley Cup. And this ain’t that now. This? This one is all his.

He feels his lower lip tremble just a little, puts his hand up to stop it, but dang it if Jack and Kenny aren’t just easing across the ice toward him with those smiles and his name across the back of their shoulders.

He gets a hand on the back of his neck and a shoulder to hide his face while the whooping and celebrating gets loud, loud, loud.

Lord, he’s going to vlog the hell out of this tomorrow.

**

Shitty is naked. 

While it’s not new (they’ve been to Haus 2.0, and yes, Shitty was naked there too. Good times, really), Bitty has always had reservations about him being skin-to-fabric on that dang couch. Who knows what he might get. Well, all that spilled tub juice probably goes a long way to sanitize. Or so he says to keep his revolution to a minimum. 

Watching Kenny get his ass handed to him from Lardo is hilarious. Watching Jack give in and have a chugging competition is even better. 

He’s lucky the ECAC playoffs beat the NHL by almost a month. Jack and Kenny have another week before they start getting serious. 

Ransom and Holster are talking animatedly with the Waffles, back slaps all around. He’s pleased as can be when Shruti, Sharon, Edgar, Chad L., and some other captains drop by to say congratulations and have a piece of pie. He doesn’t see Jack pause over his shoulder while he talks up a storm, doesn’t see the considering look on Jack’s face.

Something about this Bitty hits him harder than the last four years, makes that perpetual tightness in his chest mean something completely different than anxiety.

He should have realized it long before his graduation, should have been terrified of it all happening again. 

Bitty affects him in so many of the same ways Kenny does, and it’s an amazing yet terrifying thing for Jack Zimmermann. Feeling like this person you’re looking at is literally made for you. 

And just as he starts taking a step forward, pushing himself in to stand at Bitty’s side like he’s done the majority of their friendship, Kenny ducks out of nowhere and takes him by both biceps. His expression is desperate.

“You’ve got to stop her. Zimms. Zimms, be on my team. Right now.”

It’s so absurd because it’s Kenny and also because he knows no one is beating Lardo. 

Ever.

Anything else is wishful thinking.

He casts a wistful look at Bitty, animated with his big win, and if Jack literally has his heart in his eyes until they’re out of sight, then only Chad L. from would have seen it.

**

Later on after the captains have said good night and some of their...guests have started staggering out, cheering for Samwell, for hockey, for tub juice, and for pie. 

For this one, Bits really couldn’t take credit because Dex really made most of them, bless his heart.

Moving around the party-goers with a spare trash bag to pick up a bit, he spots someone sneaking upstairs, pauses to squint up in case he needs to charge on up there and firmly remind people the upstairs is off limits. 

Or break out the fire extinguisher.

Either way.

...but he knows that ass in those jeans, and gasps softly as Jack’s plaid is bouncing up the steps ahead of Kenny. 

And, he can let out a sigh, catch just a little bit of bittersweet. But, if there is anything Eric Richard Bittle prides himself on, it’s being a good friend. If Jack and Kenny needed a-a wingman or whatever, then he’s just going to dang well be that.

He keeps an eye on the stairs for the rest of the night for more than one reason. No one, no one, is going to disturb them when they’ve finally come this far, and even if he silently dreads it, hopes they at least used his room instead of a bathroom for heaven’s sake.

#check!please #wip #pimbits #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #kent parson #i'm going to hell #but i love this southern child #canon divergence #what if #that kiss at Jack's graduation didn't happen #but still #AHL!Bitty #eric x jack x kent #will eventually happen #work in progress #don't judge me #my fic #My writing

[det395]

fic breakdown, March 2020

okay, this might be weird or just a huge humblebrag and Ill own that, but I rlly like hearing ppl talk about their fics n I've been proud of how I've pushed outside of my writing comfort zone in the last half of march. I've definitely been one of those people looking for a distraction during this time and writing fic was that for me, so I wanted to ramble about it!

id love to see other people do this about any of their fics!

Jigsaw Falling into Place (3.4k), 03/19/20 

so I fell in love with my same-sex best friend in highschool, what a cliche. and ill relate to dan right now, it was love but it wasn’t happy love. I've been thinking about basing a fic on the experience since literally 2017 but it always felt a bit hard. then, suddenly it just came out of me! and after all this time, it was still cathartic. despite the changes I made to fit dnp, it’s freakily autobiographical lol. the title is a Radiohead song which always reminded me of her, just that feeling of missing out on someone and not being brave enough to stop them as they’re leaving. i don't write many angsty fics, so i’m really proud of the sense of dread that I think is instilled into this writing

Dreams Tonight (1.1k), 03/20/20

a timestamp from antisocialites watch a wilting flower! maybe it’s not the best, but that fic is my pride and joy. most popular and also longest thing I've ever written @ 70k, and writing it was a beautiful experience, nothing has ever flowed out of me quite like this one and I love how i handled the complicated relationships. i always wanted to fill in that time between the last 2 chapters but it was hard to capture the giddy feelings, so I added some wine and I think this is really cute. in hindsight, I do wish I put in more dog action, though. 

it’s sometimes hard for me to write cheesy things, when I spiral about following stereotypes about fanfiction, something that has been a big source of shame for me before, but honestly, i love it. the title is from the song which has the lyric ‘antisocialites watch a wilting flower’, from the album I listened to obsessively as I wrote this. very nostalgic now. definitely a time where i jump through hoops to connect my favourite songs to a story sgdhf

Love that I give (1.6k), 03/26/20

I also sometimes feel shame around writing smut, and it often makes me question my sexuality and spiral a bit. I'm trying to get past that because i think it’s super fun. this took me a looooong time to edit this fic to something i liked, but i think it was worth it! like i said, there’s worse things in the world than posting mediocre smut lmao. i like that i managed to place in a more emotional trope into the background of the shameless smut without making it angsty! based on DHL by Frank Ocean just because i began listening to it on repeat lol. yes all of my titles are just songs

Make Me Feel: part 3 (5.7k), 03/31/20

i began this fic in January of 2019 lmao. i started it when i was in a pretty confusing poly/open relationship, and now i am single, but i still feel like my perspective has grown so much and shaped the ending in the best way. i feel guilty for having such a long break in a WIP, but im so glad i got to write the ending now. i honestly don't even remember what i planned the ending to be in the beginning, but i like where it went. i only just posted so i haven’t gotten feedback so i hope everything i wanted to portray about love and communication and feelings shines through. im glad that i discussed both a sexy side and an emotional side to polyamory, i hope it shows the dimensions to poly relationship and neither follows tropes nor intentionally refuses them. I'm also proud that i got to write some more ~steamy things~ (esp one scene in the 3rd chapter which i love) and think about my relationship to sex and whatnot. title by Janelle monae, obvs lol.

here's the breakdown for the last half of march, when i was quarantined (date --> title --> starting word count --> ending word count --> word count/day/fic) (orange being WIP, green being posted, and purple being school essays I've handed in) courtesy of @jestbee’s wordcount tracker

I wrote 18297 words in total this month which is the first time I've reached (and surpassed) my monthly writing goal this year. on average, I wrote over 1000 words a day for the last 16 days, ranging from 93-2099 words/day

I was hoping to write a cathartic quarantined together fic this month too but I began to have a lot of doubts about it and I restarted it so maybe sometime soon it’ll be released lol

[jclie]

— && guests may mistake me as ( elizabeth olsen ), but really i am ( jolie madison + cis female + she/her ) and my DOB is ( 7/29/1992 ). i am a ( musician ) and would like to stay in suite ( 314 ). i won’t be much of a bother because i am ( driven, audacious, & charismatic ), but i can also be ( perfectionistic, reticent & self-sabotaging ) at times. personally, i like to ( paint, hike, try new recipes & sing karaoke ) when i have the time to relax, and my favorite snack is ( chai sugar cookies ) to have in my suite.

hi everyone! i’m red, and the only excuse i have for this dropping so late is that Work Sucks and has held me up, but i am here and ready to love u all! rlly, what better to do with the remaining bits of summer ( and being awake, tbh ) than join this super cute group and put my intro post together? so yes, here is the 411 on jolie, with a more *~cohesive~* bio and stats page on their way — i am so excited to get to know all of your muses and begin interacting! i promise i do not bite so if you’re feeling brave, pop over in the ims, or, just wait me out, because i’m sure i’ll be appearing in them soon enough :~)

general info

full name: jolie drew madison

nicknames: j, jo, jojo (calling her this is a bit of a death sentence unless you have explicit permission), mads

date of birth: july twenty-ninth, 1992 (27)

zodiac: leo

sexual orientation: bisexual

birthplace: chicago, illinois

occupation: musician

hogwarts house: slytherin

mbti: enfj

suite #: 314

tw: drug use

past

born on a wednesday in chicago, illinois to a set of parents who had a very “informal” relationship to say the least — to make a complicated situation as cut and dry as possible, jolie’s parents were best friends with benefits. her mom wound up pregnant and decided to keep the baby. instead of jumping to some rash decision like getting married solely for the sake of their child, they decided to simply remain friends and split custody in the best way they knew how that didn’t require a mediator in the form of a family court judge. her parents remained close friends (and still are) once jolie was born; custody was weirdly split with jolie spending the majority of her time with her mom. they were an unconventional sort of family but a family nonetheless. dad does something with numbers (yes, think chandler bing), and mom is a local business owner.

as a kid, jolie never knew a stranger, and therefore had no trouble making friends once she hit school age. she was the kid who never found her niche group or “clique” because her feet were wet in several of them. school was not a miserable time for her. she had her friends, was a solid a/b student. jolie was a big perfectionist though, it not uncommon for her to beat herself up over something incredibly minute and self-sabotaging herself as punishment or because she didn’t know how to adequately process her feelings of anxiousness — she’d procrastinate, cut people off or drive them away, things of that nature.

music was always in her life, but it was a very casual thing in her world, situated on a backburner. it was something that she was able to bond over with her dad more so than her mom; her dad was a massive music junkie, loved sharing his favorite songs with her, bought her her first vinyl player when she was twelve and supplied her with every album under the sun, whether it was one she wanted or one of his favorites or just one he thought she might enjoy. she was in dance classes as a preschooler (this was an epic fail, because not even her rhythm could save her from the generally awkward disaster she is whenever she dances) and took piano lessons in elementary school, but she didn’t love either? she felt very restricted when it came to formal lessons, and almost needed the freedom to explore and learn it on her own terms — she ended up teaching herself guitar on her dad’s guitar on the weekends she spent at his place. there was also the 6 month stint her junior year of high school when she and some friends started a garage band (which jolie represses to a certain degree because the embarrassment it invokes is on another level) but it was mostly just an idea formulated from boredom and was something to pass the time, nothing really serious. 

jolie found herself at a bit of a crossroads after her graduation. most of her friends were off to college but college did not seem like the kind of environment for her. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with herself or her life, but she knew she had to do something. so she pretty much copied and pasted what one of her close friends was doing at the time, decided to go to northwestern and share an apartment with her and pray that something would speak to her along the way. spoiler alert: nothing did. her first year quickly fizzled and faded for her and most of her time was spent going to parties, embracing the social scene, the like. nothing of real educational value.  

she was still fucking around when it came to music; she’d met some people in one of her creative writing classes (the only class that she legitimately finished and enjoyed) and would go to open mic nights or other gigs around town. never meeting a stranger meant jolie was good at networking, making friends with other musicians — the more she spent time immersed in the world, the more she felt compelled towards music. she began writing songs that weren’t just the product of teenage angst (see: that awful high school band), even took a few music classes at northwestern. 

by the time she hit her junior year, she was over classes and was pretty much only taking filler classes still, wasting her money while she bar tended at one of the bars close by. but she’d never felt more creatively charged; she was putting her nose to the grindstone in writing songs, recording songs in her bedroom so she wouldn’t wake up her roommates, playing gigs on her nights off work literally anywhere that would take her, and using those new-er friendships to her advantage. she had gained some local traction but things really didn’t explode until she started posting original songs online and got contacted by a few record labels. jolie was hesitant to sign with anyone but she got one of her friends in pre-law to help her look over contracts and pretend to be her manager and eventually signed. subsequently, she dropped out of college and went to work on the music thing full time.

from 21-23, jolie was pretty much doing nothing but playing festivals and clocking in hours at studios. most of her time was spent on the road and she absolutely loved it  — she loved the music festival atmosphere, loved the crowds, loved meeting other bands and fans. she was pretty much touring on the few songs she had released, covers, and unreleased tracks from a wip, but it worked for her and it worked for the fans. she released her first album, ultraviolet on her 23rd birthday, and hit the road again. 

jolie missed her “college” life with the parties and socialization at her fingertips, so she started elbowing her way into that scene while she was on tour — at first, it wasn’t anything to bat an eye at, but jolie’s limits were very fluid. being on tour was draining and the perfectionist in her would always find something to berate herself about, and getting out of her head was the only way that she felt she could truly enjoy the whirlwind success that was happening to her. the drugs started as a one-time thing, just to try it, and then she was using regularly, and then it got to a point where she couldn’t go more than an hour without a line of coke. the drugs stripped away a lot of what made her jolie and left her with a more miserable, grouchier version of herself where her highs were almost normal and likable and the lows were hell to be around. 

she came off of ultraviolet’s tour and essentially jumped right back into the studio (she was beginning to break through in mainstream music, with her last promotional single off ultraviolet hitting mainstream radio and doing fairly well) for album #2. it was finished and ready to go, but by that point, the drug use had gotten to an all-time high and the constant turning a blind eye to it from her team was no longer possible. she ended up od’ing and that was it  — there was an intervention in the hospital room, and it was off to rehab for jolie. album got postponed and she basically fell off the radar.

she didn’t really make a “comeback” until she was knocking on 26′s doorstep, and by that point she’d been in rehab, getting sober, and then laying low for nearly two years. by the time she was releasing her first single for the new album cycle, she’d all but scrapped the record she’d made before rehab and had something else put together entirely. she released wonderland, which did very, very well. she toured for it and it was wildly different than anything she’d done prior — venues were bigger, more fans, just a whole different circus all around. 

probably the one thing she was more proud of than the music was her sobriety, and going on two years of being sober, not much else was important to her. she knew had a pretty black and white view of was good for her and what wasn’t, so after the tour wrapped, she decided to come home. she never pegged herself for the type to get “homesick” because her spirit was very much the wandering type, but she knew she needed to get out of la and nyc. back to chicago it was — which is how we get to the malnati. 

present

she’s in what she’d aptly describe as “professional limbo” — she’s not actively working on any one project, she’s just kind of floating until she can find something to tether herself to, whether it’s a single song or an album or something else that appears on her radar. she’s just taking things easy for the time being.

career wise, think marina, l*na —  more of a cult favorite than a mainstream artist. not going to get mobbed when she goes out and about, able to fly under the radar for the most part. as far as her music goes, i don’t necessarily know if i’ll claim any one artist’s discography and adopt as her own; in my head, jolie’s alt pop. think somewhere along the lines of hayley williams, st. vincent, tove lo, splash of the 1975.

personality wise at this point in her life: will charm the pants off of just about anyone she comes into contact with. flirty. a little goofy, hella sarcastic. there’s method to her madness even if no one else gets it. is still a little guarded when it comes to talking about herself. doesn’t mind talking about what’s happened to her but when it comes to the feelings and emotions as to why those things happened, she shuts down. it’s why she’s a musician: why talk about your feelings when you could just write them into a song and pretend they don’t exist beyond that, lmao. is the passive aggressive type, bottles things up and simmers. 

being in the kitchen and cooking has been a tactile sort of therapy for her, especially in her hiatus years. she loves trying new recipes, baking at random (all) hours, sometimes likes to pretend she’s on an episode of master chef. she’s a dork, your honor.

has a thing for polaroids. she has a blank moleskine notebook that she has put through a total ringer, gluing polaroids and other little mementos onto pages as a journal of sorts.

has a stick and poke tattoo (among other professional ones) on her ribcage that she gave herself when she was sixteen. it’s a tiny smiley face. 

her middle name came from her dad’s middle name (andrew).

if you want someone to go out with you at night (or during the day, she’s not picky) and just aimlessly wander around the city, letting things find you, she’s your girl. she loves a good adventure.

i headcanon jolie as predominantly dirty blonde/brunette lizzie? but she is also the type who has ruined her hair over the years over all the impromptu dying so... welcome to close your eyes and pretend hour.

plot ideas

this is by no means a comprehensive list of plots, just stuff off the top of my head that i’d like to see? again, i promise i don’t bite, so pls hmu if one of these appeals to you or if you just wanna brainstorm, i live for that shit!!

jolie’s a chicago native, went to college here, so 👀

meredith to her cristina — basically her best friend (not gender specific, either) who tells it to jolie like it is, doesn’t mind if she laments about how the world sucks every now and again, the person she’s calling if she needs help with a body

physically and/or emotionally, somebody who checks in on jolie and that she checks in on as well. we love a solid support system

exes — jolie’s a little bit (a lot of bit) of a player?? so i’d love to see exes that maybe didn’t end too hot, ex fwb or ex flings that never made it official, people she ghosted, exes that don’t want to get back together but don’t like seeing each other with anyone else, anything under that sun

jolie also is a Lowkey (read: highkey) commitment-phobe, but i’d rlly love for her to maybe have an ex that she was so In Love with that she was willing to push through it bc she saw herself with them forever..... and then, for reasons tbd, it ended, and it absolutely crushed jolie

someone who, on the occasion of needing to scratch an itch, is very good about getting the job done. it’s casual sex. there are zero romantic feelings involved, there is no getting jealous when the other person finds a relationship, the two are just good friends who have seen (and will probably continue to see) each other naked #yeehaw

maybe someone who was at one of jolie’s gigs when she was still playing bars that she bought a drink and kept in touch with or smth? or someone she met when she was still predominately playing small sets at festivals? idk i’m rambling someone stop me

a “muse”??? like, someone jolie is fascinated with / inspired by and she finds herself writing songs about / for

gimme someone who’s like an acquaintance at best, they’ve maybe got mutual friends and therefore they hang out a bit but they’re always arguing with one another for whatever reason (they both probably annoy each other) but they’ve got mad sexual tension going on? maybe they act on it, maybe they don’t, but either way, they lowkey enjoy the bantering and being at one another’s throats even if they act otherwise

jolie is a night owl, so... gimme someone who she can turn up at their room at some unholy hour (or that turns up at her room at said unholy hour) and watch a movie with or make a mess of the kitchen from fixing a premature breakfast

maybe someone who knew jolie when she was not in a good place?? and things are still v much tense / unresolved between them for whatever reason

and stuff for the event omg PLS *makes grabby hands*

#malnatiintro #malnatiooc #drugs tw #tw drugs #not sure what to tag so here's ALL the tags lmao

[cheerioss]

Marinette: Guardian of the Miraculous

part 2

i have too many wips but im writing something else again :)) (woes of a writer/artist/just creators don’t @ me here)

so my brain clearly isn’t prioritising so here’s a really very long lil one shot based on this post i found by @aly4son and it’s pretty cute and fluffy. i decided to make some changes and add some stuff here as well becuz i love fluff hope it’s okayy. this took pretty long becuz i had to figure out how to put everything together ://

and as it stand it is getting way too long so im gonna have to put up a second part whoops.

—

“Hmm… Add a little of this…, a drop of water from the Dragon’s Tears Fountain… Oh, don’t forget the edible glitter…”

Marinette was adding different ingredients to her pot, swirling her wooden spoon at the same time. She was preparing for her final test before she was officially declared the new Guardian of the Miraculous. However, she needed a break from all the formulas and power-up functions. So, she decided to continue playing around with the concoction she’s been working on for weeks, hoping to complete her experiment that afternoon. She knew she could just finish it after her test, but she could feel that she’s so close, and was eager to observe the results.

Ever since she started learning the recipes of the power-up potions, she wondered what other power ups she could try making, if it were possible. She’s been trying over and over again, playing around with different kinds of ingredients. She’d even brought some items from the bakery, if only to give it a little taste and colour. (And also to test a theory of whether it can be used to make power-up potions. It did work out in the end, but only some foods.) She remembered Chat mentioning that Plagg hated those power-up cheese (said it tasted like “liquidy goo you humans take when you’re sick”) and decided to mess around with flavours.

“And… Done! Tikki? Up for another round of taste testing? I think I’ve got it this time!”

“Of course, Marinette! I’m curious though, why did you add the glitter?”

“It’s for flair, for the potion I���m brewing. If this works, you’ll see why I wanted glitter in there.” Marinette threw in a wink, and dipped a little spoon inside the pink, glittery liquid. Tikki floated towards it and took a sniff, noting the scent of champagne coming from it. I wonder if kwamis ever get drunk, didn’t think we’d try that before in all the time we spent in the miracle box.

She quicked sipped the delicious brew, and immediately felt a tingling sensation.

“It’s happening! It worked!”

In a flash of pink, Tikki transformed, her usual self now a sparkling crystal-like texture, her centre spot and tail (?) now dazzling diamonds.

“Wow… Well, what power up is this?”

“It’s called the Elegant power up, ooooooor Exquisite. Haven’t really decided on the name yet. It’s just a little fun power-up I came up with, you know, like a fancy dress transformation.”

“Cool! I’m sure Kaalki would love to try this power-up. It’s glorious.” Tikki laughed at her own little joke.

Oh, how she wished she could snap a photo of Tikki, but kwamis don’t show up on cameras. It was a great accomplishment, and she was really proud of herself. Specially created with an original outfit designed by her, a sketch of the design slowly added into the mixture while it boils. (Another absurd theory that flitted through her mind.) Never thought this crazy idea would work but here we are.

“Alright, I’m going to try transforming. Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Marinette!”

“Elegant Tikki! Spots on!”

The familiar feeling of transforming washed over Marinette, yet it feels completely different at the same time. The swirls of pink magic disappeared to show a red cocktail dress with exquisite black sequins scattered on silk, the fabric a darker shade of red than what she usually wore. Extremely fancy indeed.

A Mandarin collar wrapped around her neck with a mini brooch which had a symbol engraved into it, a representation of her Chinese heritage and the pattern associated with the Miraculous. The top half had black polka dots, embodying her super-persona’s namesake, along with a matching mask and gloves, both of which had intricate embroidery. Her hair was pulled up into a stylish updo, braids twisted to form a crown above her head. Her red heels has little ladybugs on them, just like the one in her hair. Just how she imagined it.

“Wow, this is even better than what i would have done!” Marinette twirled around, noticing that the outfit has a litte glittery shine to it. Now she wish she would get to wear this someday; she felt like a princess! (Well, it was pretty funny because Chat would always call her civilian self that.)

In the midst of admiring her work, Master Fu walked into the room. His eyes widened at the sight in front of him, and Marinette shrieked, quickly transforming back to her usual self.

“Ah, sorry Master! I was messing around with an idea I had and I completed it just now. Don’t worry, I was practicing potions before that.”

“I’m not mad, Marinette. On the contrary, I’m actually very pleased that you have managed a feat that even my masters were unable to achieve back when I was in training with them. Perhaps I could show it to them when I return for a visit.

“In the mean time, how about you use this power-up for your Guardian officiating ceremony. It is something to celebrate after all and you deserve it.”

Marinette didn’t know what to say. She just thanked the master profusely, grateful for the opportunity to try out her new invention. She didn’t bother trying to refuse because she knows that there would still be one no matter what she says. Master Fu simply waved it off with a chuckle.

“Now, would you like to have your final test today or prefer to still wait for tomorrow? I feel that you are ready.”

—

School was still a priority, being in senior year and all. Marinette could only work on designs during her free time, and with Hawkmoth around those are scarce. Marinette would sometimes sketch out ideas besides finishing her homework, for fear if forgetting them. She absolutely hated it when an idea struck while she was busy fighting an akuma.

Good thing was, she didn’t need to worry about measurements. The miraculous will ensure that everyone’s suits and dresses would fit them to a t. So all she had to do was make sure that the designs represented each of the holders perfectly.

Tikki wholeheartedly agreed that Marinette deserved to be celebrated as the new Guardian, she hadn’t had a holder who was a Guardian since millennias ago. She was positively buzzing with exhilaration, moves animated with so much zest Marinette was afraid she might explode.

Chat was the first person she told about becoming a Guardian. He was surprised, after all he wasn’t aware of her receiving training, but that was short-lived as he immediately tackled Ladybug in a humongous bear hug for her sensational achievement. He even said, and I quote, “My, I’m honoured to be graced with the presence of the great and powerful Guardian of the Miraculous Box,” topped off with an exaggerated bow and a kiss to the knuckles.

He was also ecstatic about the prospect of a new transformation. Ladybug told him to assure Plagg that she had added a different flavour to it, and will add some cheese to his batch on top of infusing it in his beloved camembert. That night, Plagg denied purring loudly in his sleep. (“You were dreaming, Adrien. Hallucinating!”)

Three months of constant sketching and resketching, coloring in and retracing it for the potion, Marinette finally got the designs out. She asked the kwamis for their opinions on the designs, (after a mini celebration of their own, obviously.) and they gave their input. Some even made flavour requests, though they still kept the champagne in there as they loved it and it made the power-up more fancy.

Then it’s another week of measuring, mixing, and carefully infusing the correct batches into the different snacks. She almost put Wayzz’s herbal tea flavoured potion into Pollen’s honey comb, if not for Tikki and Wayzz’s interference. Oh, the look of horror on Pollen’s face would send Plagg laughing with tears.

With everything ready, it’s time to paaaaaaaaartay! (Clearly Xuppu was here :) )

—

With the help of Chat Noir, they managed to get the miraculouses to the respective holders’ rooms before they arrived home from school. She handwrote all the dissolving letters containing the information, taking care to use her cursive. Those online lessons really paid off, even Tikki couldn’t recognise that she was the one who wrote it.

Ladybug hid behind a rooftop as she watched Max open read the letter, coming to the conclusion that everyone else is doing the same. She hoped that she had made her instructions clear enough, considering how… excited some of her classmates could be.

—

Everyone was confused when they found a box in their rooms, realising soon after that it was a miraculous box. Alya and Chloe immediately opened their boxes, paying no mind to the paper that were below.

“Oh, finally! Ladybug is giving the Miraculous to me! It’s about time.”

“Trixx! Does Ladybug need me?” An extremely loud gasp, “Oh my gosh, is she here? Do I get to hold on to my miraculous?”

The kwamis questioned had to clarify that no, Ladybug was not nearby as there is no emergency, no, it was only for a few short hours, and no again, the miraculous was technically not theirs but “belonged” to the Guardian for safekeeping unless they are permanent holders. They were only temporary holders who are called upon when their help were needed.

(Ladybug and Master Fu had them make sure they got it through their heads after getting irritated when some people kept begging for it again. And also to inform those whose identities were compromised that it was their last time using theirs.)

“Please read the letter before you do anything, Alya.”

“It contains some important information that you really must know before you call upon me, my queen.”

All holders read through the letter:

“Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m to be officiated as the new Guardian of the Miraculous, and it would really make my happy if you could join me tonight. Along with your miraculous, you will find a small snack for your kwamis. It is to be consumed strictly before transforming, so do not waste it as I’ve only provided a small piece.

You will transform tonight at 4am, going going to the address listed below. Don’t worry, the kwami will be able to help you with that. I know it is late but this is to ensure no reporters or your parents will see you sneak out. Hawkmoth rarely comes out at night anyway, so that’s a bonus.

Chat Noir and I are greatful for your contributions as the heroes of Paris, so we would also like this to be a celebration of thanks. Hope to see you there!

Signed, Ladybug

Address: 53 Rue de Corentin, Petit Fortune Hôtel 3rd floor”

The letters dissolved with a flame of green sparkles, kwamis reaffirming the chosens that they know the address and will help them navigate.

#miraculous #ml #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #master fu #ml kwamis #guardian!marinette #ml ficlet #miraculous ladybug