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woeisme-iamwoe · 3 years

Text

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it.

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy.

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale.

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on.

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch

two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes.

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them.

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.”

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love.

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on.

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with.

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married.

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic.

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites.

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience.

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride.

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together.

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while.

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!!

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

Routine, by snoqualmie (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly.

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso.

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read.

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit.

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it.

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful.

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong.

my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.

Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth.

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love.

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried.

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together.

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot.

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa.

Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it.

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet.

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay.

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings.

we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it.

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother.

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru.

how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse.

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic rec #iwaoi #iwaizumi x oikawa #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru

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catharrington · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Seeds and Love Potions. (T, 2.4K words)

@harringroveweekoflove day 2: LOVE POTION && MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURES. Also including: witch Robin, post season 3 recovering Billy, flustered but giving it his best Steve, and cat boys. Or cat men? No, cat boys.

***

The coffee mug clicked onto the table with an otherworldly menace. Steve’s brown eyes darted to it, then back up to Robin. He furrowed his brows in a question. But before he could open his mouth, she held up her hand.

“It’s not poison,” she explained.

“Could have fooled me, Robs,” Steve hissed.

“It’s called a potion, dingus. It’s going to help!” She pushed the cup farther down the bar. The diner around them was mostly closed, and Robin was the only waitress in the place. Her peach colored apron brought out the green of her wide, devious eyes.

“Potion... poison... that’s like one letter different,” Steve leaned back in his stool away from the mug.

“Wow, so you know how to spell. What other skills will you showcase, The Amazing Harrington?” Robin’s lips curled up in an evil grin, leaning her body over the bar to dig the insult farther.

Steve just scoffed. Putting his elbow up on the bar and shielding himself as he tried to get back to the open College text book he was supposed to be reading. All the words were rushing together in swirls of black and white. He pushed his thumb into his curved bottom lip to try and force himself to focus, chewed on the pad of it, but he could swear the mug was mocking him.

Could swear he could smell that strawberry pink liquid Robin had poured for him when he ordered a simple black coffee.

“Drink it,” Robin snapped.

“No,” Steve growled.

“Are you going to grow a backbone and actually confess then?” She quirked one brow up.

Her face was so condescending. So smug. Steve hated how much he knew that look, how it made him sort of fond for her.

“I mean,” he sighed. His walls crumbling in defeat. His fingers coming up to join in worrying his bottom lip. “I mean I might?”

“It’s been a year Steve. A year of following him around like a little stray kitten! A year of ‘Oh Billy, I’ll give you a ride!’ ‘Oh Billy, how was physical therapy?’ ‘Oh Billy, pay attention to me!’—“

“I get it, I get it!” Steve turned towards her again to motion with his hand to keep it down. Waving his wide palm around until Robin’s pursed face cracked into a giggle. “Just keep it down, would you?”

And he turns over his shoulder to survey the empty diner before he’s got enough courage to look at her again.

“Yeah, okay. I’ve got a fat, stupid crush on Billy. And I know that I’m the most embarrassing and dumb guy you know. But...,” he trails off. Eyes wandering back down to the coffee cup. “It’s not the same as Nancy Wheeler or even Tammy Thompson. So much can— no, so much has gone wrong. If I... confessed right now, It would just make everything too much for him.”

His fingers nervously tick across the mint green bar. Wishing like hell he could cross them in front of his chest and make a barrier.

Robin takes a step forward. Her own fingers an inch away from his. She twitches like she can’t make up her mind if she wants to grab them. Like someone worrying their bottom lip if they are going to pick the last slice of pie in the diner’s glass container. But she does, reaching out to lay her skinny fingers and their chipping black nail polish over his own.

“Dingus,” she starts lovingly, “you don’t know any of that.”

Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes like he’s going to turn away, but Robin holds his hand tightly.

“You don’t know if it’s too much for him, or what he wants. And you don’t,” Robin took a second before continuing, her breath hitching, “you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

Hawkins, Indiana is the poster town for unknown tomorrow’s. Steve knows way too well about that. The tunnels crawling with slime and vines that play host to the monsters of the world.

But Billy, he surely knows better than anyone. It’s been a whole year but noone’s going to ever forget what he did. What happened to him under the control of a creature called The Mind Flayer. How Billy used himself like a human shield and died to try to make up for it. Just to come back with an electric jolt to his tattered heart.

They had to stitch new lungs inside his chest. He called himself Zombie Boy now. Called the patchwork scars heavy metal.

Steve just smiled. Nodded his head as he watched Billy climb out the crumbled wreckage of his shell. Climb out a new man, a man Steve caught himself falling head over heels for.

“You’re right, Robs,” Steve exhales.

“Oh, what was that?” Robin giggled, leaning in to hear better.

Steve pushed her away by their joint hands. Wiggling his fingers afterwards as if cursed.

His breath quipped and held tight in his chest as he turned back to the coffee mug. It sat waiting for him. The light red liquid swimming with foam and black seeds at the top. As if no matter how long it sat, it was always freshly prepared.

Steve gripped the handle of the white mug hard. Thought about how quick Billy’s body hit the ground when he died. How quick it all felt to Steve who had to helplessly stand back and watch it all.

He lifted the mug to his lips and drank in desperate, greedy gulps.

And as he finished it and slammed the ceramic back down on the bar, he didn’t immediately feel different. His mouth felt strange, the red juice had a powdery after-taste and much more seeds than his gag reflex was expecting. But as he screwed up his face from the flavor, he didn’t feel changed. Or empowered. Or whatever Robin was trying out with this magic spell.

“I don’t—,” Steve started, but his voice stopped just as it started. His head pounded like a drum was beating right next to his ears.

Doubling over in his stool, he gripped at the sides of his head in a panic. His whole skull felt like it was vibrating. Shifting around even, his scalp moving at the top of his head as if something were to burst out.

Steve grabbed two fist fulls of his hair and groaned through the wave of pain. Burying his chin in his chest to try and stop the noises before they came. It was so painful, but somehow only lasted a second.

As sudden as it came, he felt fine again.

Steve jerked his head up to scream at Robin , when he noticed her eyes wandering to the top of his head.

He followed them with hesitant fingers, slowly running up his now messy head of quaffed brown locks under his fingertips brushed something new.

Giving an undignified yelp, he drew his hand backwards as if burnt. His eyes were wide and pleading with Robin. But she watched him right back with the same face. As if she didn’t make this, as if it wasn’t her poison potion that created this.

Steve timidly touched the new addition to his head again. This time he didn’t finch as his fingertips sank into hair that felt soft as fur. Following it up to a point, and then feeling as it curved inwards to softer peach fuzz.

He could feel something, as his fingers moved, he could feel them as easily as if he were touching the lobes of his ears.

Because he was touching his ears.

A quick glance to a dingy mirror hanging at the back of the bar confirmed it for him. There was a pretty pair of brown cat ears sprung from the top of his head.

“Robin,” he breathed. Unable to fully grasp how he felt. “What was that drink exactly?”

She blinked at him, gathering her thoughts before she cleared her throat. “It’s um, it’s supposed to be a charm. An aid, like-like an enhancer. It said it would bring out the traits that the person you craft the potion for desires the most.”

Then she stopped to laugh, her red lips caught between gaping open or turning up on the corners in a mocking laugh. “I didn’t— wow! I thought worst case scenario would be you’ll turn into an asshole like you were in high school. B-But this?”

Steve looked from her back to the mirror. Wrapping one hand around the pointed triangle of his ear. Pushing it down just to watch it perk back up again.

“I’m... I’m a cat boy?” Steve stutters out a gasping breath.

“Well, more like a cat man, really,” Robin tries to help. “Come on, you’re almost old enough to buy beer.”

“Really helpful, Robs, thanks so much for the curse and now the insults!” He shouts.

Holding up her hands in defense, her smile doesn’t drop. Even in her shoulders Steve can see she’s quivering with laugher.

He feels along the base of his new ears. How the fur is the same color and melts almost perfectly into his own silky hair. How it feels good, actually, to scratch his blunt nails there just like how a house cat would enjoy it.

“This isn’t some trait. Or some, something that Billy would find attractive in me.” Steve groans. “This is some freaky kink!”

Robin finally clasps her hand over her mouth to dam up the waterfall of laugher. It hits against her palm in a muffled, annoying, cruel noise. She shakes her head as if she wanted to argue but couldn’t get past how funny she found it.

“You must have mixed up the wrong stuff, Robin! Put the wrong magical thing in the mixture!” Steve tried to shake his head out to unstick his thoughts.

He runs his hands through his hair as he does when he gets flustered, and now his cat ears bend with the motion so they don’t get tugged on. Folding neatly onto his head before bouncing back up to attention.

It felt so weird, but somehow it didn’t feel very different at all. They acted as if they’ve always been there.

“Yeah, okay, that’s it,” Steve nodded to himself. “You gave me the wrong potion. It’s okay, it happens! Just whip up a new one that’s for reversing cat ears. That’s in your witch book right?”

Robin kept her hand over her mouth and kept shaking her head. She wasn’t replying to anything Steve said. And it was honestly making him more mad than the new ears on top of his head.

“Hey, is it really funny enough for all that?” he mused.

Then Steve looked back up at the mirror. He turned his head side to side to admire the way his ears moved with him. How they were his hair color on the outside then a flushed pink in the very middle. How there were strands of lighter brown between that and those reminded him of how highlighted his hair gets in the summer sun.

“I don’t know. I think they... I think they sort of suit me?” He shrugged.

Robin dropped her hands and her laugher was louder without it, but she managed to catch her breath to finally reply. “Oh, they suit you alright. You’re a natural at this stuff, Garfield.”

Steve furrowed his eye brows. Cat ears folding down on his head in defense. “I’m not orange,” he hissed back.

Robin opened her mouth with likely more insults and no actual help from the aspiring witch who caused all this mess, when she was interrupted. The bell above the entrance letting out a loud ding.

The front door, painted in matching mint green like the bar, swung open. And like he was summoned, like his ears were simply ringing so much from being talked about he hunted down the source, in walked Billy.

He was wearing a grey hoodie. One of many that he collected once he got discharged out of his hospital. This one Steve was familiar with, because it was his. Handed down with a coat and a couple other winter items as Steve feigned indifference over concern about Billy’s California blood staying warm. An old Hawkins High baseball league logo sitting right in the middle. It’s fading green and orange design still bright enough to make Steve’s breath catch in his throat.

“Hey, Harrington,” Billy greeted. He lifted his big, scarred hand to wipe the hood down from his head. Letting loose the wild mess of short curls that are regrowing on his head.

“Hey, Billy,” Steve croaked out. His voice was awkward. His face, he knew, must be blushing bright red.

He turned to seek help from Robin, but the swinging door that lead into the kitchen was rocking back and forth on its hinges. She must have run away as soon as Billy came in. And Steve was too busy watching his entrance to even notice.

Cursing under his breath, Steve racked his brain with an excuse. Some logical way to explain why he had sprouted two new fluffy ears off his head.

He felt like he was playing a pinball machine in his head. Flashing lights and jingling noises were going off. But nothing was coming to him. He couldn’t find any words to offer at all to Billy.

So he whipped his head to the side, watched as Billy stopped glancing around the empty diner to finally settle on Steve.

And he watches as Billy’s gorgeous, totally unfair pretty blue eyes lift to see the cat ears on his head.

“Woah, Harrington,” Billy exhales like he’s blowing a mouth full of cigarette smoke. “That’s really—,”

“I know, Billy, okay! It’s um, um?” Steve waves his hands around as if that can turn the wheels of his thinking some more. But he can’t think. Not well anyway, when Billy’s standing here looking so handsome, so warm, and so alive right in front of him.

“Yeah, okay, I can totally explain this—,”

Billy cuts him off with a soft chuckle. Just under his breath. Steve closes his mouth quick enough to make his teeth click.

“I don’t know, Steve. Ya don’t have to explain it. It’s kinda cute, actually,” Billy drawls out his words low and soft. And then smiles at him.

A second ticks by. Billy’s boots skid on the tile as he steps even closer. All the way until he’s right next to Steve. Grabbing the back of a stool right next to him.

And Billy hasn’t taken his eyes off Steve’s ears once. And he’s got a little sparkle in them like the first time Billy got a point over him during basket ball practice back in high school. And oh, oh.

“Cute?” Steve parrots back.

“Yeah, super cute,” Billy confesses.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #my fic #harringrove fanfic #steve/billy #harringrove moodboard #harringroveweekoflove #harringrove week of love #cat boy Steve #cat boys in my Harringrove week of love? it’s more likely than you think #my moodboards

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iphoenixrising · 4 years

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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

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rightside-left · 3 years

Text

Excuse me but I must yell because I’m into a lot of podcasts which have small fandoms or characters that no one talks about and just SCREEEEE. I wanna foam at the fucking mouth with someone. And tumblr is right here so

Let’s GOOOOOO

Shattered Sky: Holy shit, this is only 9 ep long before corona forced them to stop and I really really hope they come back again soon because I love every moment of these stupid characters. YES I have wrote fanfiction about the main cast. Because in just that many episode, the main cast became my favourite poly relationship. You can’t tell me that they aren’t all together. I’m sorry, they are. At the very least, Pretty Baby, the Professor, and Vee were dating then Pashmina crashed into their lives.

Wait sorry, I’m not done. So in the 1st ep we learn that Vee has animalistic features like sharp teeth and stuff. We also know that they run a clinic for the people in their community at no cost. WELL later on, it’s revealed that those features are caused by a plague that, if survived, partially turns you into a spirit creature. And Vee survived it as a child so they always jump in to help when someone catches the plague.

Dark Dice: Okay, I’ll admit this one is more popular but hey let me rave over my special boy, Iaus Innskeep, who would absolutely murder me if he was real and heard me say that. He is just a beautiful tragic character and just wants his life to stop being so traumatic so he can raise his adopted kids in peace. Like? Best dad? Wish that were me?

EOS10: WATCH OUT WATCH OUT HERE COMES THE STEEL CHAIR Just end me with this one. I started listening to it in high school around the time my uncle died and it was one of my only sources of solace from my life. Then it disappeared for 3 years. BUT THEN IT CAME BACK AND TOOK ME OUT PERMANENTLY. Beautiful golden scars. Holy shit. Basically, it ends with the main character accepting that he’s queer and though he’s screwed up, he’s not broken beyond repair. ALSO accepting the loss of the person he fell in love with that helped him recognize that. And that helped me accept myself and tie up some loose ends around my own grief over my uncle. I’m doing a bad job of expressing my love for the podcast and it’s characters but this is always on my mind.

Archive 81: Shh no hush. I already hear you yelling that it’s popular. I’m talking about about specifically Season 1 Ep 2 A Night at An Opera, Season 2 Ep 15 Aurora, Cello, and Season 3 Ep 28 Exist in the place that you are currently occurring. No, this isn’t the only bits I’m obsessed with, but this is the ep where I am ultra lost-in-the-sauce and no one will scream with me. Each of the episodes have cryptic music that makes my heart flutter and if I’m not careful they will send me to another dimension. Suddenly I will have spent 30 min looping the maybe 1 min of audio from the song. I had some actually cryptic experiences with the opera song from ep2 and considering how season 1 ends, well let’s go with I’m still not sure this is just a podcast. As for Aurora, I know every word. I sing it to myself often. There’s something so beautiful and haunting about it. And finally Screeks, oh my dear sweet Screeks, I would kill a man to be serenaded by Screeks.

Oasis Transmissions: This one is pretty new but I listened to the entire 2 seasons in a week. I need to know what happens next. Also, I hope my own writing is as good as this podcast. It’s exactly what I want. Had a nightmare after listening to the 1st couple ep that placed me in the same world 10/10

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shishidoryofan · 5 years

Text

In Laws

Dickkory Week ‘19 Day 2

It can be said that while Kory is living the dream of getting married, she did not care for work the people on Earth took in having that wedding.

Since they were two different planets with very two distinct values and cultures, Kory already knew that the wedding process here was going to be vastly different from Tamaran. While the ceremonies were somewhat similar, the majority of weddings on her home planet took no less than a couple of days to get prepared for, and the emphasis was placed more on the couple than the ceremony.

On Earth, most people had to start planning months in advance. For some, that was even years before they were officially married. There was the shopping of dresses and suits for not only future spouses, but the people attending the wedding also. She also found that that catering was a giant deal (had to accommodate for all guests) along with seating and music.

That was not even counting the work put into deciding where one wants to hold their wedding and planning the honeymoon that comes after.

Kory had lived on Earth for a few years now, so she was not ignorant in how western weddings were usually suppose to look like. She just honestly did not ever seeing herself foam at the mouth at the kind of dream wedding she had read and saw most brides cried over.

She would be just happy to get married to the person she loves the most in this universe.

The wedding planning stuff was pretty irrelevant to her.

Because of that attitude Kory had on weddings, all the classic planning was directed at Dick. He was very vocal on the kind of things he wanted at his- their wedding. He decided on the perfect season to get married (apparently June was very special for summer weddings); he decided on the food and how everything would be arranged. Dick even went out of his way to pay top line to have custom made wedding invitations passed to all their friends and family.

Kory was told by Donna a while back that technically it was some kind of non-written rule that the groom could not see the bride’s wedding dress until she was walking down the isle. Once again, Kory found it very silly, but nevertheless, she had planned to go through with it.

However, that did not stop Dick from trying to suggest ideas to her on certain wedding dresses that he absolutely loved. Kory would say yes to all of them because his suggestions were very gorgeous, but each time, one of their friends would tell Dick to stop and that it was Kory’s choice.

Dick could not stop it though. Her finance was totally in love with his ideas on his dream wedding. He had told Kory stories his parents told him about the day they got married. He had that glistening look in his eyes when he told her about his parents would tell him that their wedding was one of the best days of their lives, next to his birth of course.

Dick just wanted to create a similar moment for himself.

Kory was okay with that, but Donna and Rachel fussed at him for even recommending dresses that were almost all over 12K. It was not the fact that they did not have the money for it, but Kory agreed that spending that much money on a dress (that was more important to Dick than her honestly) was probably not the best option.

But they still had to figure out the wedding.

So that is how Kory found herself staying (more like dragged away) at Wayne Manor for a week. Dick had asked Alfred and Barbara on what to do for catering and desserts, while Kory was stuck as a taste tester. If Kory had to be true to herself, despite being familiar with Dick’s life in Gotham and the family he grew up, Kory never cared for Gotham herself.

She did when she first arrived on Earth, but the glamour quickly came off once she knew the true dark nature of Gotham.

Kory worked better with the Titans and the Justice League. Gotham, and the vigilantes that came with it was not a place she felt completely comfortable with. Sure, she worked with a lot of Gotham’s heroes, but Kory would claim that came with being a superhero.

It was not until Alfred regularly served her tea and scones; not until Dick got pulled into a case with Bruce and Kory was allowed into the Bat Cave that she realized that she was slowly being treated as part of “their” family. A family she never really cared if she was a part of as long as she could keep her relationship with Dick Grayson.

That was until she had to deal with Bruce, or Batman.

She has always been very neutral with Bruce. Overall, she did not have a big problem with him, but Kory was very critical on the way Bruce treated Dick in the past. Being in the Titans changed Dick for the good, but that could not erase the years of being in Bruce’s care.

While Bruce allowed her to stay at Wayne Manor; while he allowed her to knew family secrets and stay in in the Bat Cave, he was very clear to her that he really did not want her patrolling Gotham with them. He held the belief that they could handle everything with those with superpowers.

Kory wanted to fight him on that, but Dick just got in the middle of them and said that they would call if he needed back up.

They did not call for help. Bruce had brought Dick home with a shot to the leg and unconscious from tear gas.

“You were suppose to protect him! Why is he more hurt than you?!” Kory had yelled at Bruce while Alfred held her back.

“Let’s not talk about this now.” Bruce did not look up at her as he said it. He kept all his attention towards her injured fiancé.

“IS IT BECAUSE I AM AN ALIEN?! IS THAT WHY YOU NEVER LET SUPERMAN HELP YOU?!” Kory knew that using starbolts was too much, but she really wished that Alfred would let her kick him.

Bruce did not say anything. He simply turned around and left, leaving Alfred alone to handle Dick.

♣♣♣

Alfred had said that Dick’s injury was nothing serious, but he would need a knee brace and crunches for almost a month. He also had her help him to his room so that he could rest on his bed.

Kory just took all this information in as she took her new spot seated next to Dick. She wanted to be there when he woke up. She wanted to be there if he was aching anywhere.

In her mind, one of her thoughts were if Dick was going to delay the wedding now that he had gotten a serious injury. Once again, Kory personally did not care (she would married him at this exact spot if he woke up and ask her to), but she knew how important it was to Dick to have his dream wedding. Recovering from a gun shot was probably not on his list of things to take care of for his dream wedding.

As Kory’s mind continue to wonder, she heard the bedroom door open, she quickly turned her head to see Bruce standing there. He looked physically drained, hurt.

As Bruce walked towards the bed, she heard him ask “How is Dick?”

“Alfred said it was nothing major. He should be waking up soon, but…but he will be very limited with his right leg for a while.” Kory folded her arms as she directed all of her attention back to Dick. She was no longer mad at Bruce anymore. She just wanted Dick to wake up.

“Have you two planned where you want to go for the honeymoon?”

That was a weird question to ask. Kory did not picture Bruce as one being particularly interested in their wedding, but she understood that maybe he was trying to make small talk.

“Dick said he wanted both the wedding and honeymoon in Honolulu.” Kory felt awkward as she told him this. “Donna keeps arguing with him that he should save Honolulu for just the honeymoon.”

“I see.”

There was more awkward silence. The silence stayed like that until Dick started moaning and turning his head. That was a sign that he will be soon awakening.

Bruce took a step back. He starred at Kory who had part of her attention towards Dick, and the other half trying to focus on what Bruce was about to do.

He gave her a half smile, not one to show that he was happy, but the one people gave to another person to show them that everything will be okay.

“When this wedding thing is over. I want you two to take a whole month off.” Bruce said as he started walking towards the door. “Make him give you his undivided attention the whole time.”

The door shut.

Three minutes later, Dick Grayson had slowly awakened and Kory could not stop herself from almost smothering him with a giant bear hug. “Honey! You’re up!”

Dick did not say anything back, but the weak smile he gave her was enough for Kory. She moved her head slightly so that she could kiss both of his cheeks.

The day of their wedding, Bruce walked up to her to remind her that he was serious on what he said. He told Kory that he wanted to them to spend as much time together as possible, not as Starfire or Nightwing, but as Koriand’r and Dick Grayson.

Kory only nodded in return before Dick pulled her away.

Maybe having Bruce Wayne as an In-Law was not going to be so bad.

The End.

#this was going to be way longer #but i really wanted to post it before the day was over #dickkory #dickkori #dick grayson #starfire #dickkory week #fic

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takaraphoenix · 4 years

Note

shadowhunters for the ask game

Oooh, the shiny! Thanks for playing *^*

Top 5 favourite characters: JACE Herondale, Magnus Bane, Lydia Branwell, Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis

Other characters you like: Raphael Santiago, Bat Velasquez

Least favourite characters: Maryse Lightwood, Jocelyn Fairchild, Valentine Morgenstern. All three of them can get fucked ^-^v

Otps: uh let’s say Top 5? Magnus/Jace, Alec/Jace, Simon/Jace, Raphael/Jace, Bat/Jace

Notps: Luke/Maryse, Jace/Clary, canon Magnus/Alec

Favourite friendships: Jace & Alec, Jace & Simon, Isabelle & Clary

Favourite family: okay so that’d be my non-canon construct of Luke/Catarina being married and raising Madzie together and also Clary getting a good stepmom here. Also Jace is part of this family too because fight me on Luke and Clary accepting Jace into their family during the time they though him and Clary were blood ^-^

Favourite episodes: uuuh Blood Calls for Blood? The reveal of Jace and Clary being siblings, Imogen’s gorgeous face appearing for the first time, Lydia and Isabelle, the Jace angst with “Michael Wayland”‘s return, maybe also You Are Not Your Own because Sebastian and Imogen’s pretty faces and the great acting on the Magnus-Valentine body-switch and again lotsa Jace angst

Favourite season/book/movie: deeefinitely season 2, man. Season 2 was actually good. Like, there were still some downsides to it, but overall it was good

Favourite quotes: not really a quote-kinda-gal

Best musical moment: *blinks* sadly this show has no musical episode but good gods it sure had the chaotic energy to have one now I wish there had been an episode where a whacky spells causes everyone to sing and dance, dang

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: every time Jace and Alec get to get lost in each other’s eyes and had an actual bonding moment?? JACE MOVING IN WITH MAAAGNUS THAT ONE KILLED ME. Magnus and Jace talking on the balcony at the loft with all the kittens and in daylight, it was so nice *^*

When it really disappointed you: ...we don’t have THAT much time and like look at this, it’s already so long? So, my biggest disappointment is when they forced the kids to forgive their neglective and abusive mother because “my husband cheated on me that’s why I’m a bad mom pls pity me uwu” man I am foaming at the mouth just thinking about the shitty writing there like holy crap :D”“““

Saddest moment: shit so many, but like... inside Jace’s mind when the Owl possessed him? He was so small and broken and it hurt??

Most well done character death: nope. Like, the character deaths were... meh, at best, and frustrating at worst...

Favourite guest star: I have genuinely no idea how you define a guest star but since she is barely in episodes, Mimi Kuzyk as Imogen?

Favourite cast member: Dominic Sherwood *^*

Character you wish was still alive: IMOGEN HERONDALE

One thing you hope really happens: I mean the show has ended so there is that :D

Most shocking twist: I mean... I mean all twists were kind of REALLY predictable or foreshadowed SO HARD that they weren’t twists?? I guess the fact that they DIDN’T kill off Max was a shocking twist for me, because I know that happens in the books and I was like mentally bracing myself for it but then it didn’t happen

When did you start watching/reading?: I started watching it when it first started airing and started reading it... I think during season 2?

Best animal/creature: ...the show doesn’t have animals, which is a travesty. Creature, I guess I do like this world’s take on witches - warlocks with warlock-marks and demon-blood

Favourite location: the Institute is so cool? Old, abandoned church but super high-tech? That makes for such a stunning thing, tbh. But also the Seelie Realm is sooo pretty

Trope you wish they would stop using: miscommunication :D I swear the whole fucking way through this show they whack you over the head with characters not talking to each other, like literally the reason season 1 happens is because Jocelyn Rather Not talk to her daughter about her heritage and Luke doesn’t get to talk to her right away and it just continues through the show that characters don’t communicate to further the plot

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: uuuuuuuuuuuuuh *awkward laugh*

Funniest moments: mh...

Couple you would like to see: HELEN AN ALINE. Due to the cancellation they were crammed in there to happen within two episodes, in the background. I wish I coulda gotten a whole season of them at the Institute, slowly developing their relationship

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: okay so I REALLY wanted to see Kate Bosworth play Céline Herondale in flashbacks. I really wanted them to elaborate further on the Circle in season 3, I wanted to SEE Stephen and Céline - heck, even younger Robert, Maryse, Luke and Jocelyn. Maybe because Luke or Imogen tell Jace stories about his parents. Either way, I faceclaim Kate Bosworth as Céline because she is beautiful and blonde and has heterochromia like Dominic Sherwood

Favourite outfit: while half of Magnus’ outfits look just ridiculous, the other half looks really fucking good. Also, Jace at the Seelie Court was A Look

Favourite item: I liked the way the Mortal Cup looked

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: I got custom funko pops of Magnus, Alec and Jace, I own the Herondale family ring, stickers and a button with Jace’s pretty face, a pillow-case with Jace’s pretty everything

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: realistically, I would probably be a mundie. But I would want to be a warlock :D

Most boring plotline: Maryse figuring out her mundie life. Like. No thank you, not just because I dislike the character but also because the actual main characters didn’t even get to do shit beyond their romantic plotlines and I would have much rather seen some more of them doing life and shit

Most laughably bad moment: ...there are too many, I can’t...

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: I... I mean they barely ever did flashbacks. So I guess the best would be Magnus’ past, even though they were too short??

Most layered character: Don’t try to fight me on this, but Jace Herondale. He who starts out as a shallow asshole and then within a short time is established as only using those walls to protect himself after all the child-abuse. Then all the torture, mental health issues, the soft romantic, the sub. All those sides that go beyond that one dimensional asshole persona

Most one dimensional character: FUCKING OLLIE. Goodness, I loathe her. She is really just that obnoxious one dimensional prodding normal human who tries to get into the supernatural world and then acts all “oh no :O” when the supernatural comes to bite her in the ass -_-

Scariest moment: when they went all creepy with the owl

Grossest moment: there probably were, but I can’t recall right now

Best looking male: DOMINIC SHERWOOD AS JACE HERONDALE

Best looking female: MIMI KUZYK AS IMOGEN HERONDALE

Who you’re crushing on (if any): Imogen

Favourite cast moment: Dominic Sherwood being carried around by others :D I love that there are more than one male cast member to carry him around :DDD

Favourite transportation: that flying motorbike they absolutely underused...

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): visiting Idris for the first time?

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: looooooooool the list is too long

Best promo: I don’t watch promos

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: During the movie!

IN DEPTH FANDOM QUESTIONS

#In-Depth Fandom Ask Game #send me asks #Shadowhunters #Anonymous

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black-kitten-imagines · 5 years

Text

Lost and Found ~ Jughead x reader

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 1,359

Warnings: none that I can see

Summary: The reader isn’t living with her parents any more and is looking for a place to crash. She meets Jughead.

A/N: This takes place during the first season, around episodes 4 to 7.

Looking around the small and dusty little hut I collected the last few of my belongings, stuffing them into my backpack. Lately I was living in this old and abandoned hut on the outskirts of Riverdale. It was hidden by a grove of trees so that it wasn’t easily visible from the street that led by. I really liked the place, it was quiet and peaceful, a safe haven of my own, but no matter how idyllic it was I had to move. Over the years of being abandoned and not taken care of the building, it had become rather unstable. Just a few days ago when I left for school I was almost hit on the head by a loose roof tile. So I finally made the decision to find a new place.

Walking over the little table under the old glass window I reached for the picture that was lying there. I sighed when I saw it. It was a photo of me and my parents. It was already bent from being carried around without a frame. The last time I saw my family must’ve been almost a year ago. We had a huge fight about morals and how my dad should get a grip on his life which ended in me deciding to leave. I wouldn’t live in a household where alcohol was drunk like water.

After finally being finished I carefully sneaked out of the shed not wanting anyone to see me. I hadn’t told any about my living situation and I wanted to keep it that way. The pity. Seeing it in their eyes whenever they set them on me – I hated it. It was not like I was a damsel in distress. I knew exactly what I was doing and I did not want or need their pity. To be completely honest, I actually kinda enjoyed my new lifestyle – moving from one place to the next, never knowing where I would end up or what I would discover. It was fun. Adventurous. Thrilling. Exciting. Reminiscing about everything I’ve experienced so far, I made my way to the best diner in town.

When I arrived at Pop’s I entered and ordered a coffee. Receiving my drink I moved past the tables and sat down at one further away from the door. I often came here. I loved sitting in silence and observing all the different customers. Sometimes it were just teenagers hanging out after school, trying to forget all the stress exam season held for them. Other times it were families with annoying children crying for desert. Once in a while I even saw a few Serpents quickly passing by.

This time when I looked up I noticed that most booths were empty as it was already late – the sky outside quickly darkening. The closest booth that was occupied was a few tables down on the other side of the aisle. Sitting there next to the window was a guy my age, wearing a grey crown shaped beanie, on the table in front of him there was a laptop. He had raven, slightly curly hair and mesmerizing light blueish-green eyes. His eye brows furrowed in concentration as he focused on the words he was writing.

I had seen him around a few times, mostly in school hanging out with Archie, Betty and the new girl – Veronica Lodge, the popular raven haired girl. His name was Jughead Jones.

Although he was friends with them, was a part of their group he was an outsider. He was different, dressed differently, had a different view of things. Being quiet and keeping to yourself, like he often did, didn’t make you popular – didn’t make people like you.

And believe me I know what I’m talking about. For I too am an outsider. I am the girl in the back of the class, the girl that everyone forgets about. The quiet one that has no friends. Normally I enjoyed going more or less unnoticed that way I didn’t have to spend my time with talking to people or something like that. But sometimes I hated being that girl. Sometimes I just wished I could be like Betty and Veronica, be ‘normal’ - whatever exactly that was.

I was ripped out of my gloomy thoughts by the waitress asking whether I wanted anything else, so I ordered another cup of coffee. When the woman went to get my drink I focused back on Jughead. He was still concentrated on the text he was writing, still typing in the separate letters with such a passion I hadn’t seen with anyone in a long time. Wondering what he was writing I kept observing his actions. He seemed so mysterious, that was what I liked about him.

When my order arrived I thanked the lady and reached for my backpack and took my sketchbook and a pencil out. I liked sketching, it was sort of therapeutic, it helped me sort my thoughts and I often came up with good ideas. In hope of getting an idea of where I could stay next I started drawing the handsome boy I had never actually spoken to.

Once in a while when Jughead looked up from the monitor he caught me starring at him. Replying with a look of suspicion he then turned back to his work. It was obvious that he didn’t trust people easily.

After a few silent hours sitting there with my pen in hand, I had finally thought of a place to go and was on my way to the only more or less safe place I could think of at the moment – Riverdale High.

The next morning I awoke in the stuffy little room I found at school. It was located towards the front of the school near the entrance. The supply closet wasn’t really used any more – at least I hadn’t seen anyone ever enter the room and the dust that had collected on the shelves supported my theory.

Still tired I stretched and bumped my hands on the rather low ceiling. 6:00 am – it felt like it was a lot earlier than that. I had to get dressed and ready before school started, so I moved over to my back pack and took out my clothes. Grabbing my grey jeans and black long sleeved shirt in one hand and my toothbrush and some other toiletries in my other hand I made my way on to the main hallway.

Recalling the where the showers were situated I remembered that the women’s showers were located on the far end of the building while the men’s were right around the corner. I knew I should take the long way to the female one but who am I kidding here, it’s way too early in the morning, I was lazy and I was the only person here at this ungodly hour. So my decision was pretty obvious and therefore quickly made.

I turned the corner to the boy’s tiled facilities and stopped dead in my tracks. Unlike I expected I actually wasn’t the only person here. There, standing only a few feet in front of me, he was.

Jughead.

When I walked in he looked up at me in surprise only to meet my shocked expression. Jughead was standing at one of the sinks, a toothbrush in his mouth. He was shirtless, only wearing grey pants with his typical suspenders. I had to admit that he was definitely good looking, more muscular than I would’ve suspected. His head wasn’t adorned by his signature grey hat – I had never seen this much of his gorgeous locks. After spitting out the foam and rinsing his mouth he leaned on the edge of the sink.

I was still rooted to the floor watching him cautiously. “What are you doing here?”, he questioned raising an eyebrow. At that question I crossed my arms defensively in front of my chest. “I could ask you the same”, I replied defensively. Silence answered me. Of course he wouldn’t. So I gave in, “I’m crashing here. Got a problem?”, and carried on to the showers without waiting to hear his reply.

#jughead jones #jughead imagine #jughead jones x reader #riverdale #riverdale x reader #riverdale series #riverdale imagine #x reader #imagine #fanfiction #riverdale fanfiction #jughead #jughead fanfic #archie andrews #veronica lodge #riverdale southside

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puckyou-forpuckssake · 5 years

Text

Drowning (1)—S. Crosby

Requested/dedicated to my homie @pucksandpoutines This is a part of a series; other parts will be found on my blog under #drowningsc. Check out my other imagines and master list on my blog with #hockeyimagine.

Sidney couldn't believe what was happening right now. Zach, a sophomore rookie, was explaining to him, a senior star, how to handle a child during the cancer skate. He’d been doing this for 13 seasons now. He could hear Kris and Geno snickering in the background.

“I’ve got this, ZAR,” he finally snapped. “I’ve done skates with cancer kids before. I should be the one instructing you, not the other way around.”

Zach sighed. “I know but…”

“Zach, quit bothering Sid about Andy,” Jen instructed. “There is a reason Kat didn’t put you with him.” Jen turned to the rest of the team. “The kids are here now. You will be going out into the concourse with signs with your child’s name on it. You’ll help them lace up and then just have fun on the ice. Give them a tour too if they want. The parents are here and will be in the stands. This is a day for them to feel normal and special. Lots of pictures will be taken. Have fun and be nice,” She glanced to some of the younger guys, “And appropriate.”

The guys walked out and saw a group of children ranging from the ages of 4 to 12 waiting for them. Besides the players having signs with the kids’ name, the kids had on jerseys of their respective players.

Sidney could feel Zach’s eyes following him as he approached a boy wearing 87. He looked to be about 8 with darker brown hair and a Penguin’s ball cap. He tightly gripped a hockey stick that was clearly a hand-me-down one. Sidney noticed how all the other children interacted together but this boy just looked around. Setting the sign down, Sid walked over to the boy.

“Hi there. You must me Andrew.”

The boy nodded. “You can call me Andy. Only my doctor calls me Andrew. I know this is skating but can we can practice some hockey, Mr. Crosby? Momma told me I could bring my stick.”

Sid smiled and led the boy towards the locker room. “You can call me Sid, and I’d love to practice hockey with you, Andy. Would you like a tour first? I know most of the other kids are just going to skate and then get a tour.”

“So this way we can have more ice to practice?” Sidney nodded. “Okay.”

“We can start in the locker room so you can drop your stuff off.”

Andy nodded and followed Sidney. He was quite compared to the other kids. “So this is the locker room,” Sid said as they entered. “You can put your stick over there in my spot. The showers are to the left and to the right is the entrance to the ice along with Coach’s office. We can go see the training room next.”

Andy was quiet as the began walking. “Have you ever been here before?”

Andy nodded. “I came here in February for a game. This place isn’t as cool MSG though.”

Sid smirked. “No way. Only a Rangers fan would say that.” Andy was quiet. “No…”

“I was born one. Only since February have momma and I been watching Penguins games regularly. We‘ve been watching hockey forever though. I’m named after Andy Bathgate. He was an awesome Rangers player.”

Sid smiled and pushed the training room door open. “Did you know Andy Bathgate played for Penguins towards the end of his career?”

“Really? That’s cool. Can we play hockey now?”

Sidney nodded. “How long have you been playing? That stick seems pretty rough.”

“I started when I was like 2 or 3. I had to stop playing when I was 6 and got diagnosed with my Wilms tumor. The stick was Uncle Z’s. Momma tries to play pickup with me at home with foam sticks and ball, but the doctor doesn’t like that. Momma just wants me happy though.”

“She sounds like a good mom. Do you need me to help you lace up?” Andy nodded. “You talk a lot about your momma. What about your dad?”

Andy shrugged as he handed Sid his skates. “He’s not around. It’s just me and momma. Uncle Z lives with us too.” Andy stumbled a little before Sid caught him. “Momma always says it’s okay to ask for help even if you don’t want it but need it.”

Sid smiled. “Your momma is a very smart woman.”

“She’s here. You can meet her later.”

Sidney helped Andy onto the ice and led him to an open area away from where the remaining kids were skating. They passed back and forth for a bit. “Why don’t we skate and pass. Standing here is too easy for you,” he commented.

He watched Andy’s technique, which was very good for a kid his age. He had good vision compared to others. Just like he had. “You’re really good.”

For the first time that day, Andy truly smiled. “That means a lot, Sid. Thank you.”

Sid went and grabbed a net and started helping him shoot. Sid spent every second analyzing the boy’s potential. That’s when he noticed the stick. “Your stick is fractured, Andy. It’s going to break soon.”

Andy shrugged. This knowledge must not have been new to him. “I have some extras if you want one.”

“But they’re your sticks. Nobody touches your sticks. Nobody.”

Sidney shrugged. “And nobody should play with a fractured, wooden stick. Yet here we are. I’ll be happy to make the exception for anyone as talented as you.”

“You really think I have talent, Mr. Crosby?”

Sid nodded. “I see a little me in you.”

—————

They were the last ones left, and somehow Sid was not at all surprised to see Zach waiting for them in the locker room. “Hi Uncle Z,” Andy shouted.

Sid froze and glanced between the two. Zach’s earlier reaction made sense now. Sidney felt stupid for not putting two and two together. The thing was though, he had met Zach’s brother and sister, and they had no children.

Zach grinned as he gave Andy a big hug. “You looked like you were having a ton of fun out there. Did you have a good time?”

Andy nodded. “Sid is really nice. He taught me some of his tricks. He even gave me one of his sticks to keep and use,” Andy shoved the stick in Zach’s face. Sid handed him the wooden one. “Sid didn’t want me to break your stick. I agreed with him.”

Zach smiled and handed Andy his bag. “Well that was very nice of him. Your mom is outside the locker room. Tell Sidney bye.”

Andy shook his head. “Sid agreed to meet momma.”

Sidney wanted to say that he had been informed that he was going to be meeting Andy’s mother and that he had not explicitly volunteered to. It didn’t matter though even if Zach’s face said differently. Andy grabbed Sidney’s hand and dragged him out of the locker room. Outside stood a woman that made his mouth drop. The woman was simply beautiful.

“Momma, this is Sidney Crosby.”

Sid shook her hand. “Y/N Reese. Thank you for making my son’s day a good one. He was a tad worried when he found out my cousin was with a different kid. He’s shy and aloof around most.”

Cousins. Close cousins then. Sid smiled. “He’s a great kid, both on the ice and just in general. He talks very highly of you. I’d say you’re his favorite person in the world.”

Y/N chuckled, making Sid soften on the inside. “Well that’s very kind of you, but I believe he looks up to you and Zuccarello more. I was just happy you got him practicing again.”

“Have you thought about getting him lessons or in a league? He has the potential.”

She shrugged. “The doctor tells me no. I know kids with cancer can be fragile but Andy has always been good. The tumor is gone and there hasn’t been any growth for over a year. I don’t know why the doctor is still so stubborn. All he does is hit on me. God that’s probably why,” She paused, realizing what she had just said. “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded all of that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Sid smiled. “Life is hard, and I bet especially as a single parent.”

“He said a lot, didn’t he?”

“Kinda. Once he warmed up to me—“

“—he didn’t stop talking,” Y/N finished. “Andy is like that. Always has been. Today was the first time in a while I saw my son happy and smiling. I really have to thank you for that, Sidney.”

“It was completely my pleasure.”

“I’m hungry, momma,” Andy moaned. Sidney has been so entrapped in his conversation with Y/N that he forgot that Andy and Zach were right there.

Y/N nodded. “Tell Sidney goodbye and thank you.”

Andy hugged Sidney. “Thank you for making today really awesome, Sidney. We should do this again sometime.”

Sidney chuckled. “I’d like that a lot, Andy.”

Y/N helped Andy zip up his coat. “Are you coming with us, Zach?”

Zach nodded. “I’ll be out in a sec. I need to talk to Sid about our game tomorrow against the Rangers.”

“Is it here?” Andy asked. The two players nodded. Andy tugged on his mom’s arm. “Can we go, momma? Can we?”

Sidney watched Y/N hesitate. “I don’t know, Andy. It’s awful last minute to get tickets and you’ve been complaining about your stomach and head hurting and you haven’t been sleeping or eating well.”

“But I did fine today!” he argued.

Sidney spoke up. “Tickets would be no problem. I have a box you guys can sit in. It’s private so you can easily relax in it. Then security can bring you guys down after the game so you can see Zach and meet the rest of the team.”

“You don’t have to do that, Mr. Crosby,” Y/N protested.

“I insist.”

“Take the nice man’s offer, momma,” Andy whispers. “We’d just end up watching the game on TV anyway.”

Y/N was quiet as she thought about Sidney’s offer. “Zach has my number for when ever you make a decision. I don’t want to keep you from your dinner any longer,” He turned to Zach, who had been very quiet since Sid’s offer. “We can discuss the game later or tomorrow. Go have fun with your family.”

They waved goodbye to him one last time before leaving. Moments like this is when Sidney wished his family was close by or he had one of his own. Sometimes he just wanted people who looked forward to him coming home for dinner.

———

“You looked liked having fun today,” Geno said, sitting on the coach with Anna, watching Sid roll a ball to Nikita to shoot. “Andrew good kid?”

Sid nodded. “Andy was the best. Zach was making such a big deal because he is cousins with Andy’s mom and lives with them. I met her this afternoon. She’s very nice.”

“Pretty?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Is his father in life?” Anna asked.

Sid shrugged. “I don’t think so. Andy said he wasn’t around and it was just him, his mom, and Zach. I have no idea how much or if he is involved with them.”

Anna started speaking in Russian to Geno when Sidney’s phone vibrated.

ZAR: Is it okay if I give Y/N your number?

Sid: Yeah. I trust her.

ZAR: Okay.

ZAR: Thanks for being good with Andy today. You made this probably the best day of his life.

ZAR: I knew I should have trust you but he means a lot to me. Andy has had a rough road, and Y/N always gets scared his cancer will come back even though 9 of 10 kids have no complications with his type of cancer. Ever since I started living with them, those became my fears too.

“Everything good?” Anna asked. Sid nodded. “You want pizza for dinner? I think it is pizza night.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Bah,” Geno spat, “We have been friends for over decade. You can’t invade life. Plus, being honest, we not want you eating alone.”

Anna nodded in agreement. Sid sighed in surrender. There was no point in arguing. If he did, who knows what crazy scheme Anna and Evgeni would come up with to get him to stay. They’d probably involve Nikita too. Anna called in the pizza and Geno went to get them drinks.

Sid felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He expected it to be Zach, one of the other guys, or even his parents or sister. Instead, he was greeted by an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi Sidney. It’s Y/N Reese, Zach’s cousin. He gave me your number.

Unknown: I promise I’m not going to sell it or give it out.

Sidney chuckled. He didn’t believe her to be the type of person to be motivated by money. She gave off a warm and humble impression.

Sid: Haha I believe you. Zach told me he gave you my number. I trust you.

Y/N: Thank goodness. I feel like that would’ve otherwise made tomorrow awkward.

Sidney perked up at this. “Special lady friend?” Geno asked, taking over for Sid in the role of playing with Nikita. Sid nodded but didn’t look up from his phone as he scooted towards “his” chair.

Sid: Does this mean you guys are coming tomorrow and are taking me up on my offer?!

Y/N: Yes. It took a lot of convincing from Andy, and Zach too. I just worry a lot with him because of the past, but I need to let him be a kid.

Sid: You’re a single parent. You and Andy have gone through more than anyone should by this point in life. It makes sense to be overprotective. I think you’re doing great though.

After hitting send the thought cake to Sidney that maybe, just maybe, he was flirting in a very weird way with Y/N.

Y/N: That’s so sweet of you. You’re so much nicer than I imagined.

Y/N: Not that I didn’t imagine you being nice. You have always came off as a nice guy and Zach talks highly of you. I just didn’t expect all of this.

Sid: It’s alright. I can’t wait to see you guys tomorrow.

Y/N: Honestly, me either. How do we access the seats?

Sid: Just go to the box office and say you’re the Reese family and are there for box S87C.

Y/N: Wow. I would’ve never guessed that was your box. The number does not give it away at all. Andy and I will see you after the game tomorrow. Good luck. I hope the Rangers win ;)

Sid: Haha. Thanks. I look forward to seeing you guys too.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #pittsburgh penguins imagine #pittsburgh penguins #nhl #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #drowningsc

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shurisneakers · 6 years

Text

espresso [2]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing

A/N: this is my entry for the ethereal @bithors writing challenge! huge thank you to @samingtonwilson, queen of everything, for beta-ing this fic and adding her magic to it. ily sam taal.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 1 || Espresso Masterlist

If you could narrow your times of intense regret to two main circumstances, one would be when you allowed Bucky and Rebecca to convince you that a roller coaster ride after scarfing down funnel cakes was a great idea and the other would be the precise moment your alarm clock shook the walls of your bedroom an hour earlier than usual after a night of drinking.

You hadn’t realized how early Bucky had to wake up to go to work until the morning you experienced the latter circumstance. The constant slump in his shoulders the days he had work and the dark circles under his eyes suddenly made more sense.

You grudgingly tugged on a hoodie and leggings and left a note for Natasha on your way out saying that you wouldn’t be there for breakfast.

Stepping out into the crisp, cold air would be great on another day but all you could feel today was Jack Frost’s wet dream. Campus wasn’t completely deserted and you could see people looking more lively than you did, forcing your already unpleasant mood to shift into a mix of anger and jealousy.

You walked briskly to the coffee shop, sighing in relief when you pushed open the door and were finally enveloped in the familiar smell that every coffee shop smelt like. Fucking coffee.

Bucky was behind the counter, his back turned to you as he pressed a few buttons on a machine and leaned on the counter while it filled up the cup. As he looked up for a second, his eyes spotted you standing near the doorway.

A smile grew on his face as he beckoned you over, “Gimme five minutes, I’ll be right over. Go have a seat if you want.”

“How are you so confident that I came here to talk to you?”

“Oh, sweetheart-“ he tilted his head at you, “- we all know how much you hate the coffee here.”

“Well, everything here tastes like a discount version. It is morally wrong to drink this soulless donkey piss.” You made a disgusted face when you thought of the last time you put that shit in your mouth. Never again.

“Not everyone can afford Starbucks every day like some people I know, Mario,” he sang, putting a lid on the cup before handing it to the guy who looked like he could use a couple of years’ worth of sleep.

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn’t know if he realized that his comment stung a little more than expected.

“Besides, you’ve never tasted my coffee.”

“Oh? You’re telling me your coffee can redeem this hell joint?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I don’t redeem it. I make it what it is.”

“So… a complete failure?”

“Like you? Nope,” he fired back, making you laugh. “Do you want something or nah?”

“Give me my regular. You know how I like it.”

“Coming right up.”

You took a seat in the booth near the window, sliding in all the way until your shoulders were leaning on the glass. There was dew on the leaves of the fake plants outside while the logo of the coffee shop was starting to peel off. You couldn’t say you didn’t aid the small scratches inching away at the giant sticker.

As you waited for him, your fingers pulled at the loose threads in the musty couch, while your eyes remained trained on him as he moved around to make your order.

His hair was shoved under a black baseball cap and he wore a grey t-shirt that was covered by the apron. You knew there was an engineering joke on that shirt, some geeky thing that he was unnaturally proud of.

You watched as he scribbled something onto the cup, biting his lip in concentration. Probably his nickname for you.

As he continued to shuffle around, you let your eyes close for maybe a few more seconds of sleep. You had Strange’s class in the morning, followed by Foster’s. Blergh.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” he asked as he slid onto the couch opposite to you.

“I just don’t get how you can do this every morning.” You opened your one eye to look at him. In front of Bucky was a to-go cup with Mario written across the front.

“I don’t really have another option.” He shrugged, pushing your cup forward. You took it with a sigh, feeling the warmth immediately creep into your skin.

“So what’s your master plan, barista boy?” You tipped the cup back, sipping on the hot liquid. He was right. It was kinda great.

His eyes flitted to the cup in your hand before looking at you again. “It’s pretty simple, really.”

“Do enlighten me.”

“I know a couple of guys. I send you on blind dates with them. If you like any of them, go for it,” he said nonchalantly, shrugging.

“That’s all?” You took a pause from drinking to narrow your eyes at him. “You woke me up at this ungodly hour to tell me that you’ll set me up with a few guys?”

“Damn, don’t sound so excited and grateful, I can’t handle it,” he muttered, sending you a smile.

“C'mon, James. I know you can do better than that. Even Nat could set me up with guys.”

“Yeah, but can Nat make you the best damn coffee you’ve ever had?”

“Nat can do everything,” you answered without batting an eye. “I mean it. You ever seen that girl write? Shit, I’d date her just for the love letters she could possibly write me.”

“Point taken. Isn’t her film festival coming up? How’s she handling that?”

“Incredibly well. She’s sleeping a maximum of four hours a night and is running on nothing but Gatorade and spite.”

“Great.” His eyes shifted to the cup again, before looking back at you.

“What did you do?”

“What?”

“What did you do to my coffee cup? You keep staring at it.” You opened the lid to look inside, praying that you wouldn’t find a dead lizard or something.

“Nothing! I swear I didn’t do anything,” he said defensively, leaning back with his arms surrendering.

“I promise,” he added when he noticed your look wasn’t faltering.

“Alright, Barnes. Coming back to the topic at hand-” you waved around between the two of you. “I know you can do better than that.”

“What more dost thy thirsty ass wanteth?” Bucky asked, smirking when you rolled your eyes.

“How many dates are you planning for me?” you asked after a pause.

“Five. Why?”

“What if I don’t like all five?” you raised your eyebrow, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Are you questioning my matchmaking skills?”

“What credibility do you have, really?”

“I watched two seasons of The Bachelorette,” he said, making you choke on your drink. “I’m like, a certified Tinder employee.”

“My original question still stands.”

“If you don’t like all five, you don’t like them. That’s about it?”

“That’s so boring,” you whined. “Make it interesting.”

“Jesus, Mario,” he exhaled. “Okay, fine. Here’s the thing.”

“Ooooh, shits-“

“Say ‘shit’ one more time in plural and I’m leaving.”

“Shit-“ you said, making him nod. “-s,” you added under your breath.

Either Bucky ignored you or he didn’t hear you, but either way, he continued, “If you don’t like any of those five guys, I’ll do one thing you want me to do. It can be anything.”

“Holy shits-“ he glared at you but you continued, “-If I asked you to strip your pants and walk around campus?”

“Yikes, but yes.”

“Do my homework for a month?”

“If I understand any of it, sure.”

“Tell me who the love letter you wrote years ago was to?” you asked deviously, making him freeze.

“What makes you think I still remember it?”

“So it was a love letter! Gotcha, you liar, liar, pants on fire.”

“Jesus Christ. How old are you again?”

“Irrelevant, move on. Will you tell me who it is to or not?” you waved off his question quickly, moving to the more pressing matters.

“I still don’t get why you want to know so bad, but yes. I’ll tell you,” he gave up, throwing his hands up. “But what if you like one of them?”

“Isn’t that a win, win? You get to keep your amazing matchmaking reputation and I get myself a guy.”

“Alright. Fine. You got yourself a deal.”

“Deal,” you affirmed, finishing what was remaining in the cup before reaching across the table to shake his hand firmly.

You pulled back soon after, gathering your phone and wallet, leaving him a five dollar bill on the table before he could argue. You adjusted the bag on your shoulder before giving him a short wave and a smile before wishing him a good day and walking out the shop in a slight hurry. You were already kinda late for class.

He sighed, picking up your empty cup and toyed around with it, reading the words he had written on it. He genuinely wondered how you didn’t see the letters in black ink across the front, but before he could worry too much about it the bell above the doorway rang, signalling the arrival of another customer.

Making his way back to the counter hurriedly, he threw the cup into the dustbin before sliding under the counter and jumping back up again to greet the next person with a bright smile.

“Hi. Could I have a grande soy cinnamon no-foam, half caf, extra shot caramel macchiato?”

‘I fucking hate this job,’ Bucky thought, smiling and nodding to the customer in front of him.

PART 3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky fluff #bucky angst #college!bucky #college!au #college!bucky x reader #kumis5kchallenge #espresso fic

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sunlitroom · 5 years

Text

Gotham – s5e07 – Ace Chemicals

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

In some of the slashiest moments ever slashed until some of the stuff we’ll see later, Jeremiah helped to build a dark island for Bruce and then told him they would rise together. Jim had sex with Barbara. We then hear him tell Lee there’s so many things he’s done that he wishes he could change. Oh, fuck you, Jim. Lee says they're here now and need to try to put the pieces back together again. Barbara's pregnant. Jim looks at her like he's only just learned that humans can reproduce. Selina reminds us all that Bruce’s parents were murdered. Selina stabbed Jeremiah. Oswald is apparently leaving Gotham for reasons that are pretty wildly inconsistent with everything we know about him. Jeremiah loves a family reunion..

As always, long post will be long. There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot might appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)). There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism. Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

A group of people run frantically down the street, their shirts open and chests bloody – a ‘z’ carved into them. Dramatic music plays. Behind them, someone – framed in the doorway of a warehouse, someone lights rockets which promptly launch into the sky. They release green gas, and we see the men start to foam at the mouth, clawing at their throats as they fall to the ground.

Jim is at his radio. He has a brief conversation with a general – asking them how they let Walker operate right under their noses. The general doesn’t really answer, but says that she’s evaded capture. Jim replies that with Walker and Durrance out of the picture, they can step in now to help the city. The general says that he’s beginning that process immediately. Jim evinces scepticism – but the general says he has the authority to do it….unless something happens to destabilise the situation. The nightmare is about to end.

(An aside. I usually give plot details a lot of leeway on Gotham because of the nature of the universe – but come on. The authorities know that Gotham is basically full of frightened, angry starving people – and was riddled with corruption and crime even before the bridges came down. The idea that they’ll only step in if it’s stable is just stupid. )

Jim is walking downstairs with Harvey – who asks if he believes the general. Jim is non-commital and asks if Alfred's been found. Harvey says no – adding that Bruce has been pulling double shifts on search parties – the kid is dead on his feet

Jim approaches Bruce. Bruce points at a map, and says they need to search this area next – which has a block of abandoned buildings. Jim makes Bruce promise that he’ll rest, saying he needs him sharp - not a liability.

A tired, tearful Bruce tells Jim he doesn’t know what could have happened. Jim points out that Alfred can take care of himself and promises that he will send a team to the area.

Bruce leaves. Harvey wanders over and says the kid is tough. They’re interrupted by Harper, who says they’ve found something.

A crime scene. We see the corpses of the z guys, and Harper points out their false moustaches. They look at the warehouse they seem to have escaped from – and Jim says it seems to be a film set. Harper says the letters were carved into the men’s chests before death.

Harvey suggests Victor. Jim says he never figured Zsasz for a cinephile. I don’t know, Jim. Victor is actually pretty well-rounded. I can imagine him having a lot of interests.

Anyway Jim wants whatever this is stopped before it threatens reunification.

He also notices a chess piece tattoo. Harvey remarks that the Chessmen are a Narrows gang, and says that there's someone they can ask about that. I'm entertained by seeing how many contrived ways they can think to bring Lee into the storyline in some way.

Bruce is walking down a street. Is this the street in the area he mentioned? Did he go get some rest? Not sure.

He steps on a newspaper, and it catches his eyes. He picks it up – and sees that it’s carrying the story about his parents’ murder. Looking round, he sees the copies of the page pasted to the walls. Turning, he sees his parents walk past the alley, laughing. He runs after them – following them to a subway.

He runs downstairs. The station name is apparently Stockton. David Stockton is the cinematographer for this episode.

Bruce loses his parents, but finds himself in the room where Jeremiah was building his tunnel. A foreboding-looking passage is now in place. Bruce sees a pearl on the floor, and immediately hares off down the passage.

At the hospital, where Lee is now working. She heads into a ward to see a patient, and also finds Barbara waiting there. Barbara comments that it’s interesting to see her there. Lee says it’s what she does: help people.

(An aside. But the show just spent a season trying to show us that as well as having an impulse to help others – Lee also enjoyed power, and danger. She’s fully capable of violence, and is excited by darkness. It was hinted at way back in season one – when she was thrilled by Jerome’s confession, carried through in her willingness to continue a relationship with a man she knew to be a double-murderer, and alluded to again when she seemed pretty pleased about her mob ties through marrying Mario. It was actually honest-to-God consistent, and last season really brought all that to fruition. It seems, though, we’re going to forget all that characterisation now. Sorry, Lee. Back to being the ‘good’ love interest.)

Lee shrugs Barbara off – telling her she has patients. Barbara says she surely wouldn't kick Jim's baby momma to the kerb. Lee says whatever happened between them is none of her concern, so if she’s here to gloat….

Barbara says she’s here for medical assistance for her little nugget. That’s a terrible pet name, Barbara. All it does is make people think about chicken. She wants Lee to be her obgyn. Lee says she can’t be serious – she tried to kill her twice. Barbara says that was years ago. Lee tries to fob her off – but Barbara says that whatever she thinks of her, her child is innocent. She wants the best - and that means Lee.

Lee asks if Jim knows she’s here. Barbara says it’s none of his business – and at that precise moment Jim comes in looking for Lee.

Lee?

Barbara turns, and Jim gives a pinched and sour Barbara

Barbara tells him he's interrupting a dr/patient meeting.

I'm sorry - you're her doctor?

Lee frowns

Yes, no - maybe?

(Clunk. That line felt so written)

They all stand about staring at each other, needlessly eating up screen-time on a foregone conclusion – it’s like a live-action demonstration of a love triangle.

Jim says a body turned up – it’s Narrows connection or he wouldn't have come. Lee says that you two need to talk - I'll be outside

Barbara says she'd rather not – but Lee says if she wants her as her doctor, then she’ll talk to the baby's father. That seems wrong in all sorts of ways. Lee tells her the first appointment is next week, and the nurse will give her vitamins when she leaves.

Lee leaves the room – Barbara walks to the window and stares out.

Jim chides her – she’s the only one you could find? That…. sort of shows scant regard for Barbara and your child’s welfare, Jim, and equally scant regard for Lee’s skills as a doctor.

Barbara retorts that she's the best, and that not everything is about Jim Gordon

Jim says this is. Barbara says she told him because he deserved to know, but his involvement ended the moment he put his pants back on. It’s entirely possible, to be honest, that Barbara was initially open to more involvement – but then Jim treated her like a bad smell last episode, so it’s maybe understandable that she’s pulled away.

Jim shakes his head. Barbara frowns, confused for a moment – then it dawns on her.

You don't think I'm fit to be a mother

Jim looks at her with an expression which is equal parts snide and judgemental.

What do you think?

Barbara stares at him for a moment, stung, and then walks swiftly away.

He seems to realise that this was not the thing to have said – and calls after her, but she’s gone.

(An aside – OK. This is a clusterfuck and I feel like whining about it.

We all know where they want to go with this. Barbara will be morally redeemed just enough to be shown as caring about her baby. However, something will likely happen to her, and Jim and Lee – by that point back together – will end up raising her child – the good and moral parents the baby should have.

Aside from how squicky that all is, the problem with this is that Jim’s determination to look at Barbara as if she’s the lowest of the low makes no sense whatsoever given

1. His own moral dubiousness. Jim has a double murder he’s never faced justice for. He went to Carmine Falcone for help because he couldn’t bear losing a pissing contest to Oswald. He was personally and professionally allied with Sofia Falcone. In the context of parenthood – this is a woman who was using an orphanage as a front for criminal activities. In essence, using children as a human shield.

2. We know that he’s likely comparing Lee and Barbara and thinking that Lee would make a wonderful mother, while Barbara is unfit. The problem with this is that while the writers might be having some selective amnesia - season 4 happened. We saw Lee go on a bank robbery spree. We saw her shoot Sofia Falcone in the head in cold blood. We saw her have an affair with the man who was not only responsible for the death of her ‘friend’ Kristen, but whom she also knew to be vulnerable and mentally unstable. Whatever criteria Jim is using to make his unfit judgement – if Barbara fails, then so does Lee.

The final problem with this is that (on top of their history) for Jim to recently have formed a tenuous relationship with Barbara – going to her for help, talking to her, trusting her… and then turn and tell her he thinks she would be an unfit mother is just low. Sorry – but it just is. It’s incredibly shitty behaviour no matter how you look at it.

Given how invested Barbara was in their relationship – she even had a healthy eating plan for him once they were married – it’s highly likely she daydreamed about them having a baby. Telling him she was pregnant, all of it. What she’s got instead is having to go through this nightmarish version what she once dreamt about – with Jim looking at her like he’s repulsed by what he’s done and wishes she would just disappear. A mockery of the life she thought she’d have. They’re never really going to revisit her mental health issues in any serious way, but if anything would push her to breaking point – it’s this.

In terms of knock-on effects on characterisation – it just makes it hard to root for Jim in any way when he’s being such a self-righteous hypocrite. One of the main reasons I never really enjoyed the Jim/Lee ship before is that – of all the shared characteristics the writers could have fixed on to define them – the one that always came across most strongly when they were together was a shared sense of moral superiority. It’s really hard not to dislike that – and I don’t want to dislike either of them.

Bruce emerges from the passage into the fireplace at Wayne Manor – to see his parents sitting in the drawing room. He asks who they are. Bruce’s father smiles at him

Hello champ

Bruce's dad looks sleazy. Why does he look so sleazy?

Alfred walks in, chiding Bruce for looking so dishevelled. Bruce asks him desperately what’s happening. Alfred tells him to spruce up – since they have a guest.

He turns – and there’s Jeremiah, watching from the wings.

Welcome home, Bruce

Jeremiah - you're alive

Jeremiah asks if Bruce really thought Selina could kill him. He needs to finalise his project.

Bruce lunges at him. Jeremiah visibly startles. Alfred holds him back. Jeremiah’s brought a gift – which turns out to be a bomb. Bruce tries any funny business, and Jeremiah will blow up Wayne Manor with them all inside.

Jeremiah then explains that the couple are just an unlucky couple he kidnapped and surgically altered. Alfred was nabbed in the Green Zone. Jervis hypnotised them all.

He goes on to say it’s a very important day. Look at the way they're dressed: it’s the night they were killed. You’re going to experience it all over again

Why?

Isn't it obvious? Bruce – this… was the most important day of your life, and I didn't get to be part of it

(Whoa. What can you really add to that?)

Jeremiah recovers himself and tells Alfred it’s time for dinner, while Bruce stares at him.

A pier, where Oswald watches with binoculars as a boat is blown up. A bored Selina says three for three.

The government was apparently very thorough when it mined the river. The government mined the river? This plot is honestly demented.

Selina asks why he didn’t make an escape plan before he stole everyone's crap. I honestly have no idea, Selina. It’s pretty inconsistent with what we know of Oswald

He claims that he was working on it, remarking that anything flown out is also blown from the sky.

An idea strikes Selina – Jeremiah’s tunnel. She tells Oswald about it. He scoffs, but has no better idea. Selina tells him to meet her in the Dark Zone at night.

He agrees, and then looks back out at the water.

Oh look – he’s swimming to shore

There’s an explosion, and Oswald winces as Selina rolls her eyes.

In the Narrows with Lee and Jim. He’s not taken backup because he wants to keep a low profile: the Narrows is now chaos. Lee sighs that all her work was for nothing. Well, there was that sense of self-importance.

They hear noises. We see some random guys – who Lee says are the Chessmen’s main rivals. They watch warily from a distance until Jim – bafflingly – decides this is the best time for a personal chat.

About the thing with Barbara

Lee raises a hand to stop him – don’t – but Jim says it’s important to him that she understands. See, it’s like this – it was really useful to rely on Barbara when he didn’t have any other support, and super-handy when she rolled in and saved his life, and sex in his office was a nice moment of release and comfort and affection when he was really low…..but now Lee’s back he’s realised again that Barbara is ew, and he wants to make sure she knows that.

Lee asks him what he’s going to do. Jim says he doesn’t know – it’s his child too.

Lee purses her mouth and says that Barbara has a different opinion, before frowning and commenting that people change.

Jim says that she doesn’t know her like he does.

Lee rolls her eyes and says he can say that again. Because they had sex recently? I mean, that was the case before Jim met Lee, too – they were engaged. That line was just stupid.

(An aside - Honestly, the writing around this whole story is dreadful. I know that the truncated season has meant they’ve had to compress storylines, but – equally – you work with what you’ve got and adjust. There was no need to give us Baby Gordon this season. We could still have imagined it as an event that happened in the future – or Jim could have adopted an orphan. Equally, if they’re so intent on Jim and Lee, they could have taken things more slowly and left us with the clear indication that they were mending their relationship – but instead they’re going to hurl us towards a wedding.)

They hear a noise and turn to see a chalked rook on a wall. This honestly made me snort out loud. What a scary gang. Apparently a rook at a funny angle means they’re headed northeast. Jim and Lee set off in pursuit.

At Wayne Manor, Alfred lights candles on the kitchen table.

Jeremiah sighs, and tells Bruce that Alfred has been sharing stories about his childhood. How – if it was just the family, they’d eat at the kitchen table

How… homey, and intimate

The line could be taken as a sneer, but it’s not delivered that way. Jeremiah is leaning forward, eyes shining, gazing at Bruce. He waits for a moment before choosing the word homey – and it’s delivered with sincerity and approval – praising Bruce’s childhood days. Intimate – by dint of the word – points rather more towards what Jeremiah wants to create now, which is only reinforced by him leaning towards Bruce – eyes wide and shiny.

Alfred interrupts the moment rather by putting a cheese and pickle toastie on the table. It’s Bruce’s favourite, apparently, due to Alfred’s influence.

I fucking love a cheese and pickle sandwich, and I don’t have either in the kitchen.

Alfred says that Thomas added aioli for flair. What? That would be terrible. Are we sure Thomas was a good guy? He looks really slimy – and putting aioli in a cheese and pickle toastie is frankly upsetting.

Jeremiah laughs delightedly, and when Bruce looks at him comments

Come on, Bruce. That’s a weird favourite food for a 12 year old. I mean – it would have been near the #1 spot for me. Maybe even occupying it.

Bruce says he’s playing his game, but he can let the others go – they’re innocent. Jeremiah refuses – saying he needs the details right. Just one final touch. He nods towards Bruce’s mother- who is smiling as Bruce’s father fastens her pearls around her neck.

Bruce tears up

Jeremiah’s tone is serious

What was it like? Losing your parents that night? I lost my family too, Bruce.

Bruce’s eyes close – not able to bear the weight of all this right now.

(An aside. I know all the Batman/Joker stuff is all sort of ready and prepared for Gotham – but they have done this well. This little moment here was excellent. Before the big shift in Jeremiah’s personality, Bruce and he had started to forge a relationship. Bruce was visiting him – was concerned about his fixation on Jerome. Jeremiah seemed very taken with Bruce. They were bonding and had some key similarities in their personalities: preternaturally intelligent, solemn, quiet, traumatic family pasts. It’s possible that Bruce had maybe considered Jeremiah someone he could confide in one day about the loss of his parents. Jeremiah mentioning this similarity now must feel like pressing on a bruise.)

Jeremiah looks sad as he comments that the wound still hasn't healed – he thinks about it often.

Bruce says none of this is real – and Jeremiah is trying to manipulate him. Jeremiah’s expression is that of a child who has just been told off – resentful, and watery-eyed.

Bruce adds that it will never be real. Jeremiah smiles and tells him that he only needs him to be thinking about that night – but his control cracks, and he leans towards Bruce abruptly, grasping his collar.

I just want to be connected to you! I offered to you to be my best friend.

He collects himself and leans back

If we can't be friends – we can be connected in other ways

A million new fics were just started on Ao3 with that opening line.

Bruce frowns

How?

Jeremiah smiles

You’ll see - in time

(An aside – half seriously, half in jest. I know the Batman/Joker relationship is often played for nudge/wink giggles - but honestly, they’ve been so blatant here: wouldn’t the simplest way to derail this very elaborate plot be leaning forward and just planting a kiss on Jeremiah? Because they can dance round it with talk of brothers and friends, but it seems clear that Jeremiah had fallen head over heels with Bruce virtually on first meeting, and then the gas twisted that into something obsessive and dark. He’s spent a long time on this plan – but he’s desperate for some kind of connection with Bruce. It would have, at the very least, knocked him off his stride.)

Jeremiah takes a quick bite and makes an impressed face. See. Not entirely lost his humanity if he can acknowledge the greatness of cheese and pickle.

He puts it back down, though, and says he has to cut tonight short – we have a very important date with destiny

Making quickly for the door, he suggests Bruce find his butler and leave immediately before arming the bomb and running off.

Bruce’s eyes widen and he yells for Alfred.

Lee and Jim get to Ace Chemicals. Inside, we see lots of guys making green stuff. Jim grabs one to question him – but all he’ll say is

Tick tock, chemical stock

Will give our Gotham an aftershock

Jim audibly deduces Jervis’ influence. We hear applause

My my, what a thrill

Jim Gordon and the woman

He told me to kill

Jervis reminisces a little, then orders them captured. Lee is grabbed and restrained. A roller-skated Ecco beats Jim around the head. Lee calls his name worriedly.

At Sirens Selina tells Barbara about Oswald’s plan. Barbara asks why she’s helping – but Selina says it’s a ruse. Tabitha was her friend too - she wants to gut the twerp

(Yes - Tabitha was really there for Selina. We didn’t even get a line from her mentioning a visit, or wondering how she felt during her recovery.)

and take his loot

Barbara says they don’t have a way out – but Selina says they’ll find one

Barbara’s eyes light up – she likes this idea.

Get out together…. away from Jim, with our riches - Oswald dead in a ditch….just two single ladies and a baby who’ve killed their sworn enemy.

Selina pulls a face. Barbara asks what?

It’s just that…. you’re pregnant

Don’t start!

Bruce convinces a hypnotised Alfred to leave by telling them there’s a gas leak. They run down the passage not a moment too soon as the bombs all detonate. There goes stately Wayne Manor.

(Out of curiosity, how old is Wayne Manor meant to be? I know it can’t be that old)

In the passage, Bruce and Alfred are knocked to the ground by the force of the explosion Alfred comes round, having regained his memory – and states his intention to shove Jervis’s watch up his ass next time they meet. Alfred asks if he’s alright. Bruce falters for a moment as he says the manor….

Alfred replies

Don’t worry about that now, son

Bruce points out that his leg is hurt – but Alfred reassures him again.

Bruce hugs him impulsively.

I thought I lost you

Alfred smiles at him

Me? Never

He then urges Bruce to find Jeremiah

You know where he's going to be at

That’s a weird construction for Alfred to use. I don’t think Brits would ever add the ‘at’ unless they were consciously copying the American phrase.

Back at Ace Chemicals, Jim and Lee are tied to a pole, yet still failing to generate any tension.

Jervis wonders aloud if he should hypnotise them and have them slit each other's necks. Ecco laughs, but tells him to check with the Boss, who might have other ideas.

Jim tells Lee he’s sorry he got her involved. She tells him not to be. He says he has something to tell her. She tells him to save it for when they make it out of here.

Jim tries to goad Jervis – calling him an errand boy. Jervis shakes his head. He’s no errand boy. This is simply a way to have fun.

Lee chips in, to signal to us that Jim and Lee are so close that they both think the same way without needing to communicate.

You can tell yourself that – but without your games and rhymes – you’re just a second-rater in a silly hat

Jervis tells her to shut up. For some reason – I find his sulky snappishness hot. Generally, though, I find Jervis hits the button that bypasses rational thought and just sends hormones flying. Stupid sexy casting decisions.

Ecco whispers something to him. Jervis laughs.

He turns to Lee, and tells her she does intrigue him. First a doctor, then the Queen of the Narrows. Is she running from her past when she becomes someone new? I mean – I think Lee had an identity crisis after the Tetch virus revealed her taste for darkness – but I would argue that attempting to atone for her sins by setting up home in the Narrows and exploring this new facet of herself was more development than it was running away? Running away would have been taking up a medical post in some other city.

He holds up his watch and begins to hypnotise them.

Selina and Oswald break into the building where Selina found Jeremiah. They spot the tunnel, but hesitate when they hear someone coming towards them.

Alfred?

A dishevelled Alfred asks what she’s doing here, and with that? Seems unnecessarily rude, Alfred.

Alfred tells an aghast Selina what’s happened – and adds that Bruce could use her help. As she leaves – Oswald reaches out to hold her arm wait

Selina put her knife to his throat

You think because I didn’t kill Jeremiah – I won’t kill you?

(This line made little sense)

Alfred tries to calm her, but she goes on

You killed my friend Tabitha – you deserve to die

(Honest to God – this has been the most irritating plot point ever. Look – if we hadn’t seen Oswald do it, and been left with a murder mystery, then everyone in town would have been a suspect, because Tabitha was so utterly obnoxious to anyone who crossed her path. No. One. Cares)

Alfred entreats her to put the knife down

Bruce needs you

Oswald stares at her as she leaves, and turns to Alfred

I suppose I should thank you

Alfred asks him to help him to the Green Zone

Oswald presumably hasn’t forgotten being described as that – and gestures exaggeratedly

It's that way

He leaves

Bruce enters a cinema where his parents are watching the show. It’s Douglas Fairbanks in the Mask of Zorro – apparently one of Bruce’s favourites. Jeremiah has reenacted the whole film.

He struts towards the camera – asking Bruce what intrigued him about the character? His ability to strike fear in the heart of his enemies. It was maybe too effective – because this is when Bruce got too frightened and asked to leave. What if he had conquered his fear? Maybe his parents would still be alive.

His parents leave, and Bruce follows.

Bruce and Jeremiah come to a halt in the alley

That’s far enough, Bruce

You don’t have to do this!

But I - I do. I came to a realisation. I realised no matter what I did to bond us - some random gunman in an alley would be the man you were tied to the most, the man you saw when you closed your eyes. I want to be the star of the show!

(*Blinks* I mean. I don’t think you can really get more intense than telling someone that you’re jealous that they see another man when they close their eyes.)

So, if I can't have you as a brother - bonded by love

(Hahahahahaha. What? No. That’s no fraternal relationship ever)

Then we'll just have to be bonded by hatred

Bruce asks if he thinks killing two people who look like his parents will really do that. Jeremiah retorts that he put a bullet in their fraudulent skulls. He smiles widely – so then….

Who's this lovely couple?

Bruce stares as they turn. It’s….

Jim and Lee. They're meant to look hypnotised and dead-eyed, but – honestly - the chemistry levels are around the same as usual.

Jeremiah says it was a happy coincidence that he ran into them. If Harvey had been with Jim, as would have been the norm, would we be seeing him in a camel coat and pearls right now? Hair in a chignon?

Jeremiah says he’ll kill the man who’s Bruce’s second father – as well as his dear friend, Lee Thompkins. Jeremiah’s obviously not thinking clearly due to all the drama and raging hormones – since Alfred is Bruce’s second father, and he doesn’t really know Lee very well, but the writers are pretty desperate to re-establish Jim and Lee as a couple in the audience’s eyes, so Jeremiah can get a pass here. Also – he’s about to take a very unpleasant bath, so we’ll cut him some slack.

Jeremiah tells Bruce they’ll finally be bound. We hear a horn nearby and see Ecco. Jeremiah tells him Gotham will soon be cut off forever when he contaminates it with toxic chemicals.

We Selina lurking on stairs at the side of the building. Bruce pleads with him

Jeremiah – don’t

Jeremiah adds that the piece de resistance is that he asked Jervis to make sure the hypnosis wore off the moment the pearls hit the ground – so he could see them realise what had happened as the life drained from them. He smiles at him

Never forget – this is all for you, Bruce

Bruce tackles him – but it’s Selina who saves the day, trapping his wrist with her whip

Jeremiah and Bruce fight. As the pearls hit the ground, Jim and Lee come out of their trance. Ecco hits the switch, and Jeremiah runs. The countdown starts. Jim runs for the truck – telling Bruce to go after Jeremiah while Jim will take the truck. He tells Lee to get to Harvey and warn the people. Lee is left behind, plaintively yelling Jim! Oh dear. Back to Lee 1.0.

Bruce yells at Jeremiah to face him. Jeremiah turns for a split second

Here, Bruce

Before continuing into the warehouse, chased by Bruce.

The countdown reaches zero as Jim drives for the end of the pier. Jim jumps out of the truck and lets it continue into the water. He stares out as it sinks.

Ace Chemicals

Jeremiah - this ends tonight

No - now it begins

Bruce and Jeremiah fight. Bruce gets the best of Jeremiah, who lies on the ground. For a man who just got a beating, Jeremiah is making some distinctly unpained noises, and repeatedly asking Bruce

Do you feel it? The connection between us? You do - don't you? Bruce - you feel it, tell me you feel it

There’s lots of panting and straddling and… yes. It’s not exactly subtle.

Bruce leans into his face

You mean nothing to me

Jeremiah rises up and head butts him

Why don't you understand?

He presses Bruce against the railing, which we see is broken on one side.

You need me. I’m the answer to your life's question. Without me, you’re just…. a, a joke

He looks anguished

Without a punchline

He swings punch. Bruce dodges it, which means Jeremiah pitches towards the broken railing. It can’t take his weight, and he topples through – into the vat of chemicals below.

Bruce looks over – staring into the vat as we hear horrible sizzling noises.

(An aside – it’s an interesting choice. Bruce didn’t intentionally push him over, nor was he given the chance to save him.)

Back at the pier, Jim stares at the now toxic water. I’m not sure that was better, Jim.

The library, where we see Ed. He has a visitor.

After all this time, you come to me for help. After allowing Strange to put a chip in my head. After selling me out to Gordon - and after naming a dog after me

Oswald purses his mouth.

First of all – I’m fond of that dog – I had Hugo save your life, and did you really think I didn’t have plan to save from Jim Gordon?

His face and expressions are over-exaggerated for that last one. He’s lying, and Ed knows it.

You always have an answer for everything

Oswald says they have been through all of this before. Fate has different plans for them.

Ed asks what the plans are. Oswald answers.

Haven't you realised yet that Gotham is a prison? It’s time we escaped

GCPD – where Jim stares out. Lee approaches. She heard the news about reunification being delayed for months, now. She tells Jim it could have been worse – but he stopped it. Jim comments that they’re right back where they started.

Lee asks what he was about to say to her when Tetch had them. Jim says he doesn’t know. He then adds that he would say what he said the last time they saw each other: he wishes he could go back and do things better.

Lee says that feels like a long time ago. Jim insists nothing has changed. Lee disagrees

But it has, Jim

Jim says it was a mistake. Ugh, Jim. Just ugh.

Lee asks him to put himself in her shoes. After all you said – a baby with Barbara, of all people

I mean, Lee just had a pretty serious affair with the man who had Jim unjustly sent to prison? Am I supposed to have forgotten that? Does it not count if there’s no pregnancy?

Jim looks down, and half-refers to what might have happened if they hadn’t lost their child. They should really steer clear of this. Gotham hasn’t got the chops to deal with a miscarriage storyline.

Jim asks Lee what she’s doing here. She says she doesn't know. He’s taken on so much, and she wants to be understanding – but he let her down. When? The whole Mario thing? Sofia? A one night stand with Barbara when he thought that she was dead?

Jim apologises again. He then asks what that means for them. She says she guesses they have to live with it. As she makes to leave, he reaches out to her arm to stop her. In a really weird moment, she turns and slaps him. What was that about? Was that scene supposed to have been played with simmering sexual tension, or something, so her reaction is based in adrenaline? If so – it hasn’t worked – because the scene was flat as a pancake, and the slap just seemed bizarre.

In generic romance plot fashion, the slap leads to a kiss. Who’d have thought it? I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.

Bruce and Selina stand at the beside of a scarred and bandaged Jeremiah. He apparently has no brain activity, and is no longer a threat. Bruce thanks her for coming to help him.

Selina looks down, and tells him that the night parents were killed – she should have done something.

Bruce looks tenderly at her and tells her she’s done enough. Selina looks down and smiles.

Oswald and Ed stride into City Hall

It’s not much, but it’s home

Barbara is sitting at his desk

I’ve been looking through your treasure trove – you’ve been a naughty boy

She tells him that she and Selina are going murder halfsies

She points her gun at Oswald – but can’t immediately pull the trigger.

Ed’s jaw drops

Oh my God. You're pregnant!

Oswald gapes. Barbara stares

How could possibly know that?

Ed gestures like it’s the most obvious thing ever

You’re glowing! He turns quickly to Oswald to reiterate it, she’s glowing.

Oswald hilariously squints at her.

Barbara re-aims

Adieu Owald.

Oswald tries to negotiate

Come with us!

I like how Oswald’s initial escape plan was very clearly just for him and his dog – and as people have found out about it, and as he’s realised he has no idea how to go about it, he’s gradually wound up having to let more people in on it. The submarine’s going to have to get bigger than planned. Ed’s going to want to bring Lucius. Selina will want to bring Bruce, who’ll want to bring Alfred.....

He acknowledges that he killed Tabitha – and that Barbara wants revenge, but she also doesn’t want to raise her child in a toxic warzone. And just like that, Oswald afforded more consideration for Barbara’s maternal instinct than Jim.

Barbara asks if they’ve found a way out. Ed brandishes the blueprints for a submarine that can track mines using sonar

Barbara asks where it is. Oswald eyes flit off round the room as he realises that this next part won’t sound good.

Ed pipes up

We have to build it

Barbara is not impressed.

Yeah - I’m gonna shoot you

Oswald squeezes his eyes closed – but Barbara still can’t pull the trigger. She stares in consternation at her hand

What is happening…?

Oswald opens his eyes, and gestures towards her bump

Perhaps…..?

Barbara snaps that it was a rhetorical question. She says she won’t shoot him for the sake of her child – but she’ll never forgive him

Oswald’s fine with this, and nods his head

I understand

Barbara’s exasperated with everything and leaves.

Oswald calls after her in an attempt to cement these new friendlier relations

So who's the lucky father?

Ed leans a little to the side to watch her go and presumably to hear her reply – but all they get is a

Shut up

General Observations

I want to be star of the show!

Kudos to CM – who is amazing here. It would be too easy to play Jeremiah as just flat-out villainous. But he’s not. Gotham dances around by using ‘best friend’ and ‘brother’, but – let’s be honest – neither of those remotely cover the jealousy he feels over Bruce seeing another man when he closes his eyes at night. Jeremiah is in love with Bruce. Desperately. He longs for connection. The way in which he expresses that is monstrous, twisted by the gas, but the need itself is human and recognisable. As such, he stays – on some level, at least – sympathetic.

Oswald

The idea that Oswald is desperate to leave the city because he suddenly feels it is a prison is way more believable than him feeling he’s conquered everything. Oswald’s stints in Arkham were hideously traumatising. Anything that feels like a prison is something he’ll want to escape immediately.

Barbara (and Jim, and Lee)

And then you have the nerve to tell me, you think that as a mother – I’m unfit. Well this is just a little Peyton Place, and you’re all Harper Valley Hypocrites

What a mess

Jim’s insinuation that Barbara is an unfit mother is low, lousy and rotten. No-one would say she’s squeaky clean, but barring Harper and Lucius – no-one is. Jim and Lee have three murders between them. He’s being a self-righteous hypocrite and is horribly lacking in any compassion or decency.

The show is longing to fall into its usual Madonna/Whore thing with Barbara and Lee – but in order to do this, it’s having to conveniently forget about what Lee got up to last season. Now – given that we remember this, having her fling lines around like Barbara, of all people when she spent last season having a pretty serious affair with Ed, who framed Jim and murder her friend, makes her seem like the worst kind of moral hypocrite.

Jim and Lee

I am what would be termed ‘old fandom’. I am used to my preferred pairings living exclusively in fanfic. I have no expectation of seeing them become canon. I don’t harass creators online for them to become canon. I don’t claim they should become a ship because they’re somehow more morally worthy than other ships. I’m happy to watch canon, and then toddle off to read and write fic about them, as well as indulging in meta.

As such, while I ship Gobblepot – I’ve said, for a couple of seasons now, that Jim and Lee are likely endgame. I was surprised they weren’t back together at the end of season three. The show is insistent that Barbara’s not morally retrievable as a romantic interest at this point. At the same time – they’re big on designated romance: Jim has to be in a relationship. This is par for the course, and not something that especially bothers me. Like I said – this is why we have fanfic.

But wow – the execution is just so bad. We’re given thin reasons to mesh their plotlines, which also have the knock-on effect of temporarily dumping Harvey and Lucius out of the story. The past is retconned to create a partnership: Alfred is Bruce’s second father figure, not Jim – and he barely knows Lee. A chunk of Lee’s characterisation – her fascination with darkness – has been cut out and binned. A whole mess of unresolved issues have been swept under the carpet.

The scene wrapping it up was pretty execrable, to be honest. Aside from being flat as a pancake, it consisted almost entirely of some very generic questions answered with a variety of ‘don’t knows’. Why are you here? What were you going to say to me? What does this mean for us? Neither seemed entirely sure – then we wrapped up with a confusing slap and a compulsory kiss lifted from any generic romance you care to name.

If you put to the side the fact that it’s cute because the actors are married in rl – the in-universe foundation for this is non-existent at this point. They could write it as two traumatised people in a harsh situation finding some comfort in familiarity, trying to recreate a simpler time in the past when they were happier with themselves - which would be interesting and emotionally-engaging, but they’re determined to sell it as a grand passionate romance that’s written in the stars, and that’s where it falls down. It just feels so perfunctory. And it’s particularly glaring when it’s juxtaposed here with the tight-knit and complicated and tender relationship Bruce has with Selina, or Jeremiah’s frighteningly intense passion for Bruce.

More interesting than wherever they take that next week will be how Bruce deals with the aftermath of all that’s happened, and the building of a rapidly-expanding submarine.

Thoughts?

#gotham commentary #gotham s5e07 #ace chemicals

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zillyeh · 3 years

Text

Storm Season (2/???)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Word count: 3035 :)

Content warning: VossMiles flirting, Voss... sweating

Synopsis: Voss meets Miles for a normal little chat and some coffee.

Google Doc

The apartment Voss had been able to set himself up with that first night was… well it was what you’d expect from a no questions asked, cash in hand first night move in. He told himself this would be temporary. It was, at the very least, better than being left to Delhon’s bitter winter air. Marginally, anyway. He didn’t have shit but the nasty coffee table whoever was here last left behind, and a futon. He was almost more grateful that the frame had been empty when he got here. Though he still wasn’t exactly recovered from sleeping on the floor that day...

He turned Mr. Aarika’s card over in his hands. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but it smelled nice as well as being pretty. Made sense, the logo on the back was some big fancy perfume company, he’d found. Probably one of the nicest businesses that called Delhon their home, too. What was he, he wondered..? He could always call and ask, but...

Ugh, something about the prospect made him nervous. Finding work was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated, but he didn’t want to seem desperate. Or pathetic. Either. Both.

He wanted to see him again, though. More than healthy, but healthy wasn’t exactly his strong suit when it came to men like that. Was a week too short a time? He had to be a busy man, he couldn’t imagine someone who carried around business cards not being. Then again he used to carry business cards when he was pretending law fit him, but Voss was kind of an outlier.

It wouldn’t kill him to see what he had in mind… if he wasn’t just tossing these out to whatever pretty ex fleet he saw that day. Voschi would love to believe he was special, but getting his hopes up felt dangerous. For both of them.

“Just fucking do the damn thing.” He grumbled to himself, leg shaking more than he liked it to. He took one more deep breath before tapping Miles’ number into his phone.

“Hello?” Came his voice after two rings, certainly less sweet than he’d been last week.

“Uh, hi, Mr. Aarika?” Voss wished he’d drank something before doing this, anything. He got up to pace as he spoke. “It’s, uh, Voss, I don’t know if you-”

“Oh Voschi!” His delight made Voss burn a bright teal almost instantly. “Hi, sweetheart, how have you been holding up?”

“Oh y’know, doing my best.” Voss could swear he heard something on the other end of his call, but couldn’t place what. “I’ve been, uh, thinking about you- uh, your offer I mean.”

“I do hope you’ve not been out on the street this whole time, honey.” The concern in his voice was sweet. Almost swoon worthy.

“No, no, I’ve got a place, but not really anything else, y’know?” Voschi ran his hand over his slow growing buzz cut and that metal clamp binding his skull together. “I just, uh, can’t survive on fumes forever, ha ha.” Oh god, that came out so much more pathetic than he wanted it to. Aarika hummed on the other end and clicked his tongue. Voss bit his knuckle as he waited for him to respond.

“Oh baby, they did you dirty didn’t they?” Aarika sighed finally. “Tell you what, how about you meet me for coffee this weekend, hm? See what I can do for you.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah that sounds great, Mr. Aarika.” Voss nodded unnecessarily as he spoke. “Where? There isn’t, uh exactly a lot of places around me…”

“Can I text you at this number? I can send you some addresses close to where we met if you’d like.”

“Sure! That’s fine, I uh, ended up pretty close to there anyway…”

The weekend, Saturday specifically, came surprisingly quick for someone with nothing to fill up his time. He did end up buying a marginally nicer set of clothes for this. He wasn’t entirely broke, not yet anyway.

The cafe Mr. Aarika suggested wasn’t exactly close, but he would rather get a little further away from his new neighborhood. It was nice, pretty, and he was already situated by the time Voss showed up.

“Hey, uh, sorry to keep you waiting.” He said, pulling off his gloves and stuffing them in his coat pocket as he slid into the chair opposite Aarika.

“Oh, it’s fine, I just got here myself.” Mr. Aarika said with a reassuring smile. His anon outfit had been ditched, and with it any attempt to look less rich than he apparently was. What looked like a diamond chain sat in the center of his generously unbuttoned shirt. He also might have been wearing… Mascara? Something? Were his eyes that pretty when they first met?

Maybe it was the lack of grey… Jade… feline pupils… They really just made him that more breathtaking. Whether or not Mr. Aarika noticed Voschi’s internal… crisis? he didn’t seem to care. He beckoned a yellowblooded waitress to their table without taking those pretty eyes off Voss.

“You look like you could do with some caffeine, Mr. Horjan.” Aarika mused. “Any preferences?”

“Uh… I don’t usually go for fancy or nothin’, but I wouldn’t say no if you’ve got suggestions.”

“Good” He said with a grin, batting his eyelashes up at their patient waitress. “Two of my usual then, honey. Ah, hold the… y’know for my friend here.” She nodded. Voss didn’t want to ask what "y'know" meant. He had a hunch.

“Yes sir, can I get you anything el-”

“Can I have a muffin?” Voss didn’t let her finish. “Blueberry?” She looked mildly annoyed, but smiled all the same.

“‘Course.” She said, jotting that down on her notepad. She looked to Mr. Aarika almost expectantly.

“That’s it for now.” He said with a wave of his hand. With a nod she was off.

“So Voschi Voschi Voschi...” He started, leaning onto the table. “What on Alternia are we going to do with you?” The way he said his name, how he almost purred the word ‘you’ didn’t exactly make forming an answer easy.

“Um, I don’t know.” He said, unzipping his hoodie now that he finally felt warm enough to take it off. “I’ll kind of do whatever right now. Not really in the position to be picky.” Miles hummed and tapped his heavily ringed fingers along the table.

“I wouldn’t want to throw you into something you wouldn’t like, sweetheart. I’d like to see that your needs are met, whatever we settle on. If anything.” He said, with a dizzying earnestness.

“Hah, I mean, you don’t really gotta go out of your way for me- Uh, I don’t even really know what you do, anyway.” Letting himself get too swept up in Mr. Aarika could potentially be dangerous, especially with how eager he was to help. Not that he seemed keen on doing anything unsavory but…

Voss was well aware of how to use a pretty face. And how often they expected something in return.

“Oh, right, right, I’m getting too far ahead of myself, aren’t I? My apologies.” Their waitress returned as Mr. Aarika sat back, sliding two delicately decorated cappuccinos in front of the two of them, and a still warm muffin in front of Voss. Aarika smiled at her and winked, that apparently enough of a dismissal.

“What was I saying? Oh yes, right, about me…” Voss peeled the wrapper off his muffin as Mr. Aarika spoke, not entirely trusting the temperature of his drink yet.

“Well, let’s see, I’m a fairly important head at Divinity Cloud Fragrances, as I’m sure you may have gathered.” Voss nodded, unsurprised. “Good boy. I’m very involved with the… formula development of our scents. However I’ve made a fair few friends outside of my chosen industry. Fingers in a lot of pies and all that.”

“Is this one of those pies?” Voss asked, gesturing vaguely around the cafe. Some of that wonder he’d looked at Voss with when he’d guessed his blood color was back.

“That’s- Yes, as a matter of fact it is, but-”

“Please, Mr. Aarika,” Voss said with an arrogant roll of his eyes. Perhaps that would distract from the color rising to his face. “You’re either super regular here, or you’re the one who cracks the whip. No gold acts like that to a caste two up from her, even if he is sexy and decked out in diamonds.”

Aarika tapped his fingers on the table again, delight in those sharp green eyes. Voss noticed now that one of his indexes was robotic. And just as expensive looking as his rings. Mr. Aarika leaned in as much as his untouched mug would allow.

“Sexy?”

“You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Always nice to hear, sweetheart.” He said with a wide grin. “Especially from such a handsome young man.”

Voss wondered if he could tell how hard his heart was hammering against his chest. Rainbowdrinkers were supposed to be perceptive to that sort of thing right? Voss could die right here.

“I’m- not that young.” He managed to say, sitting up a little straighter.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Aarika said, eyeing Voss’ freckles.

“You prefer that, Mr. Aarika?” Voss’ mouth said before his brain could stop it. Aarika’s eyes narrowed, his smile faltering but only slightly.

“Don’t push it, Voschi.” He said lightly, but Voss could feel some weight somewhere behind those words.

“I- sorry, Mr. Aarika,” He sputtered, a real flush turning his cheeks blue this time. “I didn’t mean- uh-” Aarika gently placed a hand over his wrist, stopping Voss nearly instantaneously.

“Easy, baby.” He said soothingly, running his soft thumb along the side of Voss’ wrist. “Apology accepted.”

He left his hand over Voschi’s a few seconds too long. Maybe admiring Voss’ hummingbird pulse, maybe for added intimidation. Maybe he liked it there. Voschi sure did.

Voss swallowed when Aarika sat back. He took his cup, which Voss noticed had slightly different colored foam to his.

“So tell me about yourself, Voschi.” He said, graciously moving on. “I have to say I’m absolutely fascinated by how perceptive you are. It’s almost frightening, frankly. What do they do with smart boys like you in the fleet, hm?”

Voss took a moment to formulate a good answer.

“Nothin’ nice.” He sighed finally, thumbing the handle of his mug. “Lotta paperwork ‘fore I got promoted. Stamping things, sorting more. Ended up a mid-decks officer eventually, keeping people in line. Occasionally getting to give my input on tactical stuff. Was pretty decent til I…” Voss ran his teeth along his bottom lip. How much of that was he going to have to explain..? “I had an accident, bad. Kind of a miracle they didn’t just feed me to the ship.” The idea of having to contact his… surgeon, reanimator, whatever, really didn’t sit right with him, but who did anything without a price?

Whatever that was going to be.

Miles hummed into his cappuccino, those sharp eyes finding the edge of Voschi’s hat. He self consciously tugged it down over that ugly metal piece, the fabric once again protesting around his horns. He looked curious, but was merciful enough not to ask about it.

“I presume you were good at what you did before you came back?” Miles stated more than asked. Voss nodded, immediately regretting the swimmy feeling it brought behind his eyes.

“Anyone can be good at paperwork.” Voss shrugged, finally daring to try his drink. It was surprisingly sweet, and almost a bit too warming with how much Miles already raised his temperature.

“I’m good at doing what I’m told to.”

“Are you, now?” A real spark lit up Miles’ eyes, practically lethal with the grin he flashed. “I know a lot of people who say that but don’t mean it, sweetheart.”

“I’d mean it for you, Mr. Aarika.” Voss said, leaning in slightly.

“Would you, Voschi?” He asked lowly, amusedly watching Voss’ face flush at his tone. “Because I can find a lot of use for someone eager to please me.”

Voss bit his lip, desperately trying to keep himself grounded in this cafe with other people around. Was he opposed to what Miles was implying? He could be implying a lot of things, but the “accidental” brush of his shoe against Voss’ leg was really making his mind go places.

“Yes sir.” He said, hoping he was less shaky sounding than he felt. Miles laughed, leaning back. Voss took the break in eye contact to let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. He would gladly go jump into one of the snowdrifts outside right about now.

“Oh sir.” Miles beamed. “I do so love a troll with manners...”

A buzzing from Miles’ side of the table shook the both of them out of whatever flirtatious air they had. Perhaps it was better for Voss for him to be distracted, that much of Miles’ undivided attention was… a lot.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’ve got to take this, excuse me.” Miles stood from the table as he unlocked his phone. Voss nodded once again, this time slightly less aggressively. He watched Miles’ hips swing him into some back room. He still heard a fairly annoyed “What?” escape his lips before the door closed on him.

He took a few minutes. In those minutes Voss flagged down their waitress for a glass of water, and mostly finished his cappuccino. When that door opened again, Miles was… dangerous looking. Just for a split second, but too long for Voss not to notice.

“Sorry about that, baby.” He said, composure regained when he returned to the table. He didn’t sit back down.

“Everything alright?” Voss felt like he knew the answer to that. He could sense… tension. There was less of a cool, relaxed air about his posture, but he was clearly trying to mimic some approximation of that.

“Not… exactly. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this short, Voschi. My sincerest apologies.” Miles gathered his coat from the back of his chair. “I do think this is the start of a beautiful... relationship of some description, however.”

Voss scrambled to stand, a bit clumsier than he would have liked to.

“Uh, right, right.” He said, grabbing his jacket from his seat, still too warm to wear it. “Um, yeah, I appreciate even the consideration for something, Mr. Aarika, really.”

“Mmm, you’re so cute, you know that? Walk with me.” Voss didn’t have to be told twice, trailing after him on the invisible leash Miles had attached to him already.

“I’ll make sure to text you, Voschi.” Miles said when they reached the sidewalk. The blast of cold air didn’t sober Voschi nearly as much as he was expecting it to. “Soon, promise. I can’t imagine what you’ve found is very… hospitable.”

“You got that right.” Voschi breathed. Miles side and reached up to pat his cheek. His fingers lingered there for longer than necessary, tracing the sharp line of Voschi’s jaw.

Anything. Voss would do anything for him right now. He felt genuinely, mortifyingly weak kneed. Was it him? Was it the fact that Voss hadn’t had this sort of attention in months? Sweeps, even?

"Maybe caffiene wasn't the best choice for you." Miles hummed, running his thumb along Voss' hot cheek. "I'll have to take you for drinks next time, I suppose." He removed his hand from Voschi's face, tapping at his phone a few times before flashing him one last smile.

"Well. Do take care of yourself, Voschi. I suspect I'll see more of you soon."

"As much as you w- ah, uh, yeah definitely." Voss swallowed, but it didn't really help anything. "Uh, good luck with your thing or whatever, Mr. Aarika."

Miles' next contact with him was the next evening. His call actually woke Voss up.

"Hello?" Voss asked sleepily.

"Hiii Voschi. I didn't call too early did I, baby?"

"Oh, uh, no, no I was just getting up anyway." Voss said in a quick lie. "Uh, I'd prefer to wake up to your voice than anything anyway." Miles laughed on the other end. Why did he say that? Why? It wasn't untrue, but...

"Aww, you're adorable." Miles said with a grin in his voice. "One of these nights you're going to make me blush, I swear. Anyway, I'm so sorry about last night- urgent business in the office. I have been thinking about you since we parted, though."

"Uh, good things, I hope." Voss said, feeling his nerves begging him to pace. Miles laughed, forcing Voss to his feet fully.

"Oh Voss would you mind if they'd been bad?" A beat long enough for Voss to feel his face warm, then:

"It has been good though." Voss thought he heard the tink of his metal finger against some hard surface in the background. "There's a position at a restaurant I'm involved in that just opened up. I know it's not exactly glamorous, but it does need filling rather quickly. Are you familiar with The Gilded Palace on 43rd and Cyan?"

"That place with the marble columns out front?" Damn, who was this guy? That was the sort of place that made you feel poorer just to walk past.

"That would be the one! I'll spare you the details, but we recently had to terminate one of our head of staff. Tragic, really. He was an excellent host."

"Right, uh. Hm."

"What's the matter, Voschi?" Miles asked, hearing his hesitation. "Not into the restaurant business?"

"No it’s not that. It's, uh… my head injury kinda makes… noise hurt." Aarika hummed on the other line, that finger of his still tapping against some hard surface.

“Hm… How about this: we put you on a test ride and see if you can handle it. If not, I’m sure we can make something else work.”

“I-, yeah, sure.” Voss swallowed. What would saying no get him? Certainly not any more food for his cabinets. If Aarika was this set on him, who was he to refuse anyway? “I really appreciate this, Mr. A.”

“Oh I hope so, Voschi.” He hummed over the line. “I’d hate to see you fall into bad hands.”

#Zilly drabbles #Voschi tag #Voschi Horjan #Smiles tag #Mr. Smiles #Storm Season #heheheeheeeeeee wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

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xseedgames · 6 years

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2017 End-of-the-Year Q&A Extravaganza Blog! #5

It’s time for our last Q&A blog of the year. It’s been a fun time answering all these questions--you guys had some seriously good ones!--but now it is time for us to chill out and celebrate 2018. Hopefully we can give you guys good reasons to celebrate 2018, too!

For our final Q&A blog, we have answers from:

Ken Berry, Executive Vice President / Team Leader John Wheeler, Assistant Localization Manager Ryan Graff, Localization Lead Liz Rita, QA Tester Nick Colucci, Localization Editor Brittany Avery, Localization Producer Thomas Lipschultz, Localization Producer

Question: Does working on a game affect your enjoyment of it in any way? Do you anticipate playing the full package after it is done or do you play through it beforehand anyway? Have you ever been spoiled on a game through work and if yes how severe was it? - @MizuUnNamed

Brittany: It definitely does. It's like the difference between babysitting a kid over the summer vs. giving birth to that kid and raising them till they leave the house. Even the most frustrating things about a game will somehow become something you love in a weird way, because it’s your kid and it's your responsibility to raise it right. When you're localizing a game, you're choosing every single word, and every single decision you make for that game will shape the experience for the thousands of people who play it. Characters I'd normally hate as a player become characters I love because figuring out their dialogue is a joy, and stuff I never thought about in localization are now very particular to me because I want my kid to go out into the world looking its best.

I will always play the games I work on. Sometimes I play them in Japanese beforehand, but there are days where I edit a file while playing line-by-line just so I can look at a character's expression and match the line written to the face. Then I replay it a few time as the English builds come in, tweaking it bit by bit, because it feels different to see the English on a sheet compared to seeing it in-game. It takes a ton of time, but I'd rather have a final product I can be proud of than to give up because something requires extra work.

Liz: When I started working here the first thing I tested was Corpse Party PC. I played it for like 200 hours and that game is much shorter than that haha. I loved every second of it, and recently got to test it again for the Linux + SteamOS release. Oh boy, that was a treat <3 I also got to work on Cold Steel II and at the time I didn't have the consoles the first released for, so I just watched playthroughs online... bless Cold Steel PC! I don't think I've ever been spoiled on a game through work before.... except maybe for Book of Shadows? But I don't even remember that spoiler so does it really count?

Nick: This is going to vary widely from person to person. For me...admittedly yes, working on a game does impact the enjoyment I’m able to derive from that game as a finished product. I understand, going in, that simply by virtue of working on a game, I will know its plot from beginning to end, see all the character development (including optional stuff that you might not even be able to view in a single playthrough), and in general become a subject matter expert on its world and lore. I’ll have knowledge of all the optional events and the items it’s possible to get – and sometimes, even a few that exist but were never implemented.

Working on a game is usually a months-long endeavor, during which we often end up playing the game in various stages of beta (or even alpha) readiness. We experience bugs we hope you never will; all the times text isn’t displaying correctly, voice or music isn’t playing right, or the battle system is falling over foaming at the mouth. By the time a game is ready to be sold, we’ve spent more time with it than would probably be considered healthy from a consumer perspective.

Outside of post-launch support/tweaking I’ve done for games like Zwei: The Ilvard Insurrection, I’ve never picked up a game I’ve worked on here after it launched. They’re good games, and I’ve been proud of each project I’ve worked on so far – it’s just that I’m someone with a low tolerance for repetition. You know – the sort who would get sick of even my favorite movies if I watched them every day for a week straight. As cool a game as Trails of Cold Steel might be, I’m in no hurry to sink 80 hours into an RPG that I focused all my attention on for the better part of an entire year.

While it IS perhaps a bit regrettable that I “ruin” my ability to enjoy a game in a normal-player context by working on them, I feel it’s a small price to pay if I can help deliver something that players will really enjoy their time with.

Question: When you brought over Rune Factory 4 to Europe, what difficulties did you encounter? How was the process? - @Marower

Brittany: Hey! This is perfect for me! We really wanted to bring RF4 to Europe, but with the developer now shut down, it wasn't possible. We spent ages looking for a programming team who would be willing to help us that also had Marvelous Japan’s blessing, and then it became my little pet project. I had zero experience with the process, so it was a lot of learning and guidance from my boss, Ken. We were able to update the text a bit to fix typos, but because we would never be as familiar with it as the original team, we wanted to touch the game's code as little as possible since we didn't want to risk breaking the game.

I tried to reproduce this one rare bug that causes the game to crash at the end of arc 2 (this is present in the Japanese, too, so it wasn't introduced in English), but it was impossible. I started the EU version from scratch and went up to that point. There were rumors that soft resetting the game caused the issue since it really wasn't programmed to handle soft resets too much, so I did that as often as I could. Nothing. Oh, man... I wish I could've found the pattern that caused such a weird crash. It's rare, but no one wants a crash in their game.

NA only has one rating, but Europe requires several different ratings, so that's an interesting process. The store pages all require various languages, too, depending on the region. I learned that because you could palette-swap character models to simulate gay marriage that the game had to be 18+ in Russia. 18+! For a Rune Factory game! All of the processes take a bit longer, but it was mostly a lot of communication, paperwork, confirmations and such. All worth it to finally get that game out there!

Question: What process leads to additional content in localized releases? Things like additional voices for Trails of Cold Steel on PC. How do you decide which titles get "a little bit extra"? - @Baust528

Brittany:

Me (messaging programmer on Skype: hey are you up Sara (programmer): Yeah. What's up? Me: lmao wouldn't it be awesome if we could put x in the game Sara (ten minutes later): It's in the game.

That happens a lot. As a more serious answer, since we try to localize games we're personally passionate about, it's easy for us to see what we'd want as a fan, too. So we'll sit around and go, "Wouldn't this feature be nice?", and we'll see if it's doable. If it is, we'll do it.

The extra voice acting in Cold Steel PC came about because we wanted to do it for PS3/Vita, but it wasn't possible. I asked if we could put the games on PC one day, the boss worked out the numbers, and we realized that avenue was perfectly possible. We thought adding new voices would be great, because the English cast was very well received in English. Turbo Mode and ultra widescreen were both Durante, though. Those were awesome.

Generally, if our programmers have an idea they'd like to add to the game, we allow it. They're programmers! They know if it's possible, and if it makes the game better, who are we to say no? That's how the Sky games have gotten so many improvements over the years, too. We're incredibly fortunate to have Sara as a programmer, because she takes each project very personally and still finds ways to improve them years after launch.

Tom: There are a lot of factors that go into things like this, but one that's come up a couple times now has definitely been our inability to license the Japanese voices. We figured, if we can't offer dual voice to players, why not use whatever budget we may have set aside for that to give them something a little extra? It may not be exactly what they want, but it's at least something we can offer them to show that we truly did put our best foot forward with this release

Nick: As weird as it may sound, it starts with just someone asking, “Hey, could we do this?” Sometimes, what we’ll want to do is evident due to what’s perceived as a shortcoming in a game. Trails of Cold Steel had a lot of voice acting, but weirdly left protagonist Rean silent in a number of scenes where all the other characters were voiced. That was the initial impetus for us wanting to get back into the studio for the PC release and record all the voicework we couldn’t for the PS3 release (in which we could only supply voices for lines that were voiced in the Japanese version).

Similarly, when I was planning out the recording for Zwei: The Ilvard Insurrection, I thought, “We’re having people in to record these battle voices and we’re gonna pay them a minimum session fee anyway, so...why not add some story scenes onto that?” So in the end, we managed to include a solid amount of voice acting in there for a game that, in its original version, had very little.

Question: Have you ever considered localizing otome games? It would be nice if you can bring us some handsome boys. （*＾＾*) - @NymphNayade

Brittany: Hmm.

Question: Can you comment on the difficulty in trying to get Japanese developers to support same-sex couples/marriage in games like Story of Season or Rune Factory? - @atelier_michi

Brittany: XSEED's always been very openly supportive of adding that. I don't know what difficulties there would be in Japan, but I try to think of how much progress we've made to be able to openly ask for same-sex couples/marriage in games. It wasn't long ago that the idea was ludicrous. I remember when Ellen DeGeneres came out in the '90s and it affected me very strongly, especially since my parents would actively tell me, “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” So even if it's not in the current SoS games, I'll ask for the feature every time I visit Japan, because I think being open about it is an important factor to making progress on that front. Nothing will happen if you don’t fight for it.

I'd really like a whole variety of relationships in the SoS. Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, pansexuals, or even a unique relationship outside of sexuality like dating a single parent or supporting your partner as they transition. It's that sort of variety that makes life interesting and great, and I think introducing these concepts in a series as darling as SoS normalizes them and helps children to perceive them as innocently as heterosexual relationships and concepts. It's very educational. Normalizing it more would teach people to ask more questions, too, instead of rejecting any type of orientation or relationship that seems foreign to them.

I remember for the first SoS game we published, Hashimoto-san said he had animals die in the game because he wanted children to be introduced to the natural process of life and death. It wasn't meant to be a bad thing, but something we should be comfortable with because that's part of what it means to be alive. Something to that, lol. Anyway, I'd like for just as much heart to be taken to represent more kinds of people in life, too.

Question: A rumor is going around that you guys are avoiding publishing fanservicey games outside of Senran Kagura. This came in wake of you guys seemingly passing on Valkyrie Drive. Is there any validity to this rumor, and if so, why? - @WaywardChili11

Brittany: did people forget we did a game with literal strawberries and a banana as a costume

That's a weird rumor. It’s also dumb. We've done fanservice games in the past, and we'll decide on whether or not to do them on a game-by-game basis. We're not necessarily passing on them because of fanservice, but I also don't think fanservice is core to the XSEED brand, so it shouldn't be a given for us to do fanservice titles just because we’ve done them in the past. Many of us enjoyed Onechanbara and we have some SENRAN KAGURA fans in the office, so we published those because we originally liked them as games that happened to contain fanservice.

We’re also not big on censoring games, so I’d rather pass on a game than work on it after it’s been censored. If I were to localize a title and actually choose to censor it, I’d piss of people who don’t like the fanservice content, I’d piss off the people who want that content, and then I’d be pissed off because if I felt something was so horrible that it needed to be censored, then I probably didn’t want to work on the game.

That doesn’t mean every fanservice game is off the table for me, but I would need to evaluate it to see if the game is for me, as I would any other genre. Like, Lord of Magna is overall a super-cute game, but it also has an out-of-nowhere hot springs scene. I felt that scene detracted from the game because the rest of the game was adorable and innocent. That said, I didn’t remove the scene, and I still loved working the game. It’s a game with fanservice I would still happily play again.

Meanwhile, SENRAN KAGURA sells on fanservice, but the gameplay is pretty good. I admit that I prefer the older titles for DS/3DS which were more ridiculous titillation with a good story than the more overt modern titles, but again, that just means the series is no longer for me, and that’s fine. We still have SK fans in the office, and they enjoy working on the series.

Another factor is gaming trends and our overall rep as a company. Fanservice games weren’t always as hot as they are now, and XSEED started off with a variety of genres, with our niche eventually falling to RPGs and such. Every trend has a rise and fall, and if we pick up every fanservice game regardless of quality just because it’s hot now, we’re alienating the audiences that love us for action, RPGs, and so on. We may even alienate retailers or future marketing opportunities for the games we license outside of that genre. We’ll have shot ourselves in the foot if the fanservice trend falls when we made it our bread and butter. I like having a job.

Tom: We certainly don't have any problems with fanservice, as I think we've proven quite thoroughly at this point. But we also don't ever back a game simply BECAUSE of its fanservice. When we release a game, we do so because (1) we like it, and/or (2) we see some really good potential in it. If it happens to have fanservice, great! If not, also great.

On the flipside, we also turn down games for a variety of reasons. Maybe we hated the story. Maybe we hated the gameplay. Maybe we felt it took its themes a bit too far, or that it had a lot of wasted potential that it never quite lived up to. Maybe we put in an offer on it but were outbid, or the developer appended unusual terms to the license that we weren't willing or able to accept. Maybe the developer simply didn't want to work with us for some reason, or we didn't want to work with them. Maybe we didn't have time to work on that title, or maybe we simply felt someone else would be able to do a better job with it. Tl;dr version, there are a LOT of factors that go into licensing decisions!

Our reasons for turning down a game aren't really something we can ever outright tell you guys, due to the NDAs we all signed when we got hired. But suffice it to say, it's never simply because of fanservice. Fanservice may potentially contribute to a larger tapestry of reasons for passing on a title in extreme cases (though they'd have to be pretty extreme!), but rest assured, we'll never say no to a game simply because it shows a lot of skin. Good games are more than skin deep, after all!

Nick: Here’s the Nick take: Most of us here don’t mind fanservice. It’s fun, it’s saucy, and folks can have a good time with it. If you look at our lineup, you can see we don’t shy away from games that have fanservice (Oneechanbara!), and games that push the boundaries, as Senran Kagura sometimes does, certainly aren’t out of the realm of consideration. A boob, a bulge; it’s all fair game here.

But here’s the thing. The games a company releases become part of their oeuvre. We have a reputation for quirky Japanese games because we’ve released enough of them that it’s a noticeable trend. The same would happen if we opened our gates to every fanservice-laden game that came knocking. Speaking personally, I don’t want us to have a reputation as a publisher whose stock in trade is mainly cheesecakey fanservice or smutty games. That kind of pigeonholing doesn’t help us as a company, and at worst, might even preclude some future licensing opportunities.

I think a lot of people get the impression that we turn down fanservice-laden games for some sort of censorious or moral reason, but that’s not especially true. There ARE cases where we might think, “If we licensed this, the ESRB wouldn’t let it through without forcing us to censor enough that the primary audience we were licensing it for in the first place would be upset,” and there are times when a game might simply be in bad taste and we decide we don’t like how it handles sexuality.

Sometimes, iffy material gets through in spite of all that. The SENRAN KAGURA series has done well for us, so we continue to publish those games even though a number of us in the office have concerns about how each new game seems to push the boundaries further and further in terms of what’s allowable (either by the ESRB or by common decency). We keep a close watch on that, and we’ve communicated our feelings to Takaki-san and his team. We strongly dislike having to alter content in this way, so if a game is so stridently sexual that we think we’d probably be forced to do so by the ESRB (as was a going concern with Valkyrie Drive, iirc), that factors into our decision-making process.

More often, the mundane truth is that we’ll turn down a game of this type because our evaluation play-tests show it to not be very fun to play. It’s not uncommon for games in this vein to just focus on piquing prurient interests or trading in tawdry titillation while the actual game underneath feels janky to play, or has no depth once you get past ogling your favorite waifu. That’s something that can’t be conveyed through a screenshot or even game video, which leaves hopeful players confusedly thinking we passed on a game for reasons more related to its content.

There’s a solid balance to be struck between acknowledging and publishing content for a mature audience and turning down projects that don’t jive with us, and I want you guys to know that we DO put a lot of thought into keeping this balance healthy.

Ken: When we first published SENRAN KAGURA Burst in late 2013, it was a much stricter retail environment so we had to approach the title with caution. We needed to see if there was a market for the series in the West, and even if there was the absolute worst thing that could happen would be to start manufacturing only to hear that retailers suddenly don't want them or want to return their units because of a complaint they got. Due to the success of the digital-only release of SENRAN KAGURA Burst we were able to release the next few games in the series physically at retail (so the "no physical no buy" people really need to thank their digital-buying colleagues), but that doesn't mean that we get a free pass to release anything in the future. As each new iteration seems to push the envelope further and further, we need to be careful exactly how far we push - at some point if we push too far and the whole levee breaks, it could have repercussions for games that have already previously been released.

Question: Who is best girl and boy? - @MizuUnNamed

Brittany: Can I get Crow Armbrust and Crow Armbrust for $500?

Tom: Narcia and Pietro, of course. But only for each other.

Liz: Rottytops and Ludus! What did we do to deserve them?

That’s all, folks! It’s been a wild ride, but hopefully we answered your questions well enough.

#XSEED #Q&A #Localization

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