steps-ascending

[kennyvparse]

What if Kent kept a chart of how many penalties/what kind of penalties the Aces got throughout the season?

(Minor spoilers from my “Up-and-Down and Barely Made” series)

Although Kent had mostly retired his binder from his rookie season, he still liked to look at it from time to time. He had to admire his organization and color coordination when it came to creating spreadsheets for players and teams.

He did love a good spreadsheet.

Since he had been out with an upper body for two weeks and was out for at least two more, he was bored out of his mind. He’d go to practices and get rehabbed. He would go to games and watch his team as calmly as he could, which usually lasted a whole 4 minutes into a period before he had to get up and take a lap around the concourse.

He started paying attention to the team’s penalties his second game in the box because A) it was a dumb penalty to take at a bad time in the game and 2) that would have never happened if he were on the ice. Or at least closer.

By the fourth game in the box he had gone through all of the team’s penalties during the season so far and catalogued them. After doing some calculations and determining which penalties weighed what on his specific scale, he put all of the information together in a nice, colorful, spreadsheet.

He really did love a good spreadsheet.

Especially if it was printed out on some nice card stock with some colorful ink with a good font.

This one needed to be seen.

When the team arrived in the locker room they all noticed something new on the whiteboard that Garrett had dutifully kept track of all the team fines. There was a sheet of paper that was laminated and taped to the bottom left corner. It was a table with everyone’s names, their penalty minutes, and some other statistics. The most eye-catching part of the spreadsheet was the color coded bar to the left of their game that was some shade of red, yellow, or green.

“What the shit is this?” Pierre-Louis asked, the color next to his name obviously red.

“What’s what?” Jeff asked, walking up and seeing the color next to his name some sort of yellow-green. Or green-yellow. “What the shit is this?” he asked.

This brought the entire team to the board one by one.

“Am I in trouble?” Pierre-Louis asked. “Does red mean I’m in trouble?”

“I don’t think so?” Payton said. “Coach never said anything, right?” Not that he had anything to worry about. The color next to his name was green.

“So what the hell is this?”

“Just ignore it,” Garrett replied.

“Easy for you to say. Your name is green. Like very green.”

Garrett walked over and pulled the laminated sheet off and tossed it on the floor. “There. It’s fine. Go shower. You all smell.”

Pierre-Louis went to grab it and brought it to his stall. “Why would someone make this if we weren’t supposed to learn something from it?” he asked.

“If Coach wants to tell us something, he’ll tell us,” Jeff said.

“Yeah. You’re right,” Pierre-Louis said, but he kept the card with him, looking it over. He really had been taking way too many dumb penalties lately. He’d need to change that.

Two games later, after returning from a short roadie, another sheet showed up.

“Red-orange!” Pierre-Louis said. “Not deep red! Let’s fucking go!”

“What?” Jeff said, walking over to the board. He looked at it and frowned. “What the hell?” His color changed from yellow-green to a yellow-orange. Sure he took a dumb penalty against the Sharks, but dumb penalties were to be taken because it was against the Sharks. “Who is doing this?”

Jeff looked around at his teammates who were all stripping down to shower after practice. Kent was in the corner talking to their coaches. He knew Kent was trying to negotiate getting on the ice sooner than his expected timeline.

Thank goodness the coaches were shaking their heads. They were going to let him take as much time as he needed to heal.

Jeff ripped the sheet off and tossed it into Pierre-Louis’s stall. He angrily took off his jersey with the thought that he was going to show whoever it was that was making these dumb spreadsheets that he was going to be better behaved for the next few games.

No one was expecting a sheet to show up after their next home game so seeing a new one put up was a surprise to almost everyone.

Pierre-Louis was the first to the board. “Orange! Fuck yeah!”

“Just take it down,” Jeff said.

“Hey, no. I want to see,” Payton said. “There’s someone more re…” His voice trailed off and he looked up at his brother.

“What?” Jeff asked.

“Nothing,” Payton said, handing it to Pierre-Louis.

“No, not nothing. Give me the thing, Sycs.”

Pierre-Louis held it out to him, but Payton grabbed it and tried to rip it in half. It did not go well. “Stupid. Fucking. Lamination,” he said as he struggled.

Jeff grabbed it and saw it. “Okay, who the fuck is doing this? These colors don’t even make sense!” he yelled as he saw his stats change and the color next to his name go more toward red. He stomped out of the locker room. “Darren!”

Garrett walked up to Kent who was sitting in his stall with his phone. He kicked Kent in the shin. “What are you doing?”

“Ow,” Kent said, looking up. “I’m ordering something to eat.”

“Not that. What are you doing with those spreadsheets?”

Kent looked up and smirked. “How did you know it was me?”

“Because no one has the time to do this. And no one likes making spreadsheets as much as you do. So, why are you doing this?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m bored.”

“Bored.”

“I haven’t made a good spreadsheet in a while.”

Garrett rolled his eyes. “You better be careful before you drive your team crazy with this.”

Kent’s smirk changed into a smile as Garrett walked away.

Kent really, really did love a good spreadsheet.

[zimmboniandbitty]

Holy crap I’ve been gone a long time.

Allow me to reintroduce myself.

I’m Cakes.

Sup.

Here for Kent Parson, first.

VGK 2-10.

Former VGK players I like.

Like 2 Flyers.

So, what did I miss?

[kennyvparse]

“I want it back,” Jack said, his tone much rougher than he had meant it to be. “It’s mine. I want it back.” He didn’t care that he sounded like a petulant child.

(Jack/Kent, magical realism, and some other stuff)

If you read it immediately after I posted, I have gone through at this point and made some edits since then!

[kennyvparse]

Werewolf!Pimms AU

LFG!

[zimmboniandbitty]

Thunder and rain in my Vegas in June?

Please let it last! 

[zimmboniandbitty]

Before the season starts, a lil bit about me. I guess.

1) Kent Parson will show up on this blog at random times. 

2) My west team is VGK. I’m in Vegas, it’s obvious. Also, I love Reilly Smith.

3) My east team is the Flyers. Don’t ask why, I don’t know where the love started, but it was BG (Before Gritty). Also, Gritty.

4) I also love most former players from VGK’s inaugural year, so they’ll make an appearance on this blog from time to time. 

5) There will also be random players that I just think are neat.

6) Also goalies.

7) Seriously, it’s gonna be a lot of real hockey players and some Kent Parson.

8) If you see me post things I meant to post on my other sideblogs, no you didn’t.

8) I will try my best to not say negative things about teams I don’t like, but I am human and sometimes I can be mean.

9) Let the chaos begin.

10) I guess I should mention this is a sideblog of profoundmisfitdichotomy.

[zimmboniandbitty]

#WiPItGood Take 1

“So, Kent Parson.”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything that scares you about being in Vegas?”

Kent stared at the woman for a moment, trying to think of the best way to answer the question. He looked away when he finally figured it out. “Tumbleweeds.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Tumbleweeds. I don’t know why, but I did my research and some of them are like the size of dumpsters or small cars. And I just imagine like… going for a run and then getting taken out by a rogue tumbleweed. And they don’t have breaks like cars do, right? So it’d just take me out, then continue looking for it’s next victim.”

“Oh. Okay,” the interviewer said with a smile. That was definitely an answer she’d never heard before. “Well, how about when it comes to hockey?”

[zimmboniandbitty]

I’d like to thank the NHL

for not scheduling games for the Golden Knights or the Flyers today because procrastination was already hitting hard enough without having to worry about watching one or two of my teams play today.

Yes, I know I could’ve just not watched the game and watched the replay after.

But considering I was already procrastinating, my self control would’ve been nonexistent. 

[zimmboniandbitty]

Someone went through my Check Please fics and left kudos on like 20 of them. 

Whoever you are, thank you! It was an awesome thing to wake up to.

[zimmboniandbitty]

To the second person that went through what looks like my entire Check Please catalogue and kudos’d all of them and left me all those nice comments, thank you! 

[zimmboniandbitty]

Shows up over a year late with a sequel to my Soulmate fic

Kent flipped on the light and his eyes were immediately drawn to it.

Right on his chest was a mark.

He reached up with a shaky hand to touch it, expecting a bit of tattoo tenderness around the mark. But there wasn't any sort of pain. He scratched across it, but nothing peeled off.

It wasn't a tattoo. Or even a temporary one.

So, what else could it have been?

[zimmboniandbitty]

"Jack," Alicia said, taking a step forward. "Honey. What year is it?"

"2009."

"Oh my god," she said softly.

"What?"

"Jack," Bob said slowly. "It's... it's 2018.

[zimmboniandbitty]

Kent shook his head, let out a yawn, and adjusted the blanket around his waist. "So, you two wanna fill us in on what happened last night?"

“Besides you trying to act out your third favorite Katy Perry song?” Swoops asked.

"Nothing bad," Rhetty said with a shrug. "We just basically got to see first hand how cute and gross you two are."

"Oh no," Kent said with his eyes wide.

[zimmboniandbitty]

And then, sometimes Kent and Jack are really, really bad at communicating. But hockey still needs to be played between talks of their future.

Here it is. Chapter 20. My goodness. Thanks to everyone who has been keeping up with this fic.

[zimmboniandbitty]

"Kenny. This isn't even a real award."

"It is to me, Zimms," Kent said. "I was thisclose to beating Sid's streak of five years in a row. Now we're just tied. And I have to start all over.” He ended with a pout.

"My condolences."

[zimmboniandbitty]

"Just trying to figure out what comes next?"

"You regretting retirement?" Jack asked as he ran his fingers up and down Kent's spine.

Kent laughed. "No way," he said.

I realized I didn’t link this last fic from Pimms Week.

Here you go!!!