#also it’s either Eric who can cook or Jack but never both of them

[borderlineomniverse]

The jeric fanfiction spectrum is literally insane. It’s either “Jack is a violent PTSD-induced schizophrenic and Eric is the only one who can calm him down” or “thee softest domestic fluff and they’re both idiots”. There’s actually no inbetween and I’m not complaining.

[justlookfrightened]

If you're still taking them... would you mind doing random 8?

Prompt is from this list. Random 8: “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”

“So you’re okay with it?” Bitty asked.

Jack stood up after rummaging in the fridge and coming up with a protein drink.

“Sure,” he said. “If you are. They’re your family.”

Bitty snorted.

“My relatives, sure,” Bitty said. “But it means they’ll be here when you get back from your first roadie this season. You’re you wouldn’t rather have your home to yourself?”

“Your home, too,” Jack said. “And you’ll be here, right? So as long you don’t mind, why not?”

“Why would I mind?”

“Just … do you like these cousins?” Jack asked. “I mean, you don’t think they’re just using you?”

“Using me? You mean besides asking to stay here? How?”

“You know,” Jack said. “For your connections, money …”

“Jack, I hate to break this to you now, but I don’t have any money,” Bitty said. “It’s like the Samwell financial aid office knew how much money I had -- to the penny -- and made sure they got every last cent of it. I am bringing no money into this household.”

Jack shrugged.

“What’s mine is yours,” he said. “So yes, you have money. And you are a big name at every college in New England, even the ones that aren’t into hockey, because of --”

“The first out captain thing?”

“I was going to say winning the Frozen Four,” Jack said. “But probably both.”

“Anyway, no, the girls have always been fine,” Bitty said. “I mean, they’re five years younger so I don’t know them that well. They were 13 when I went to Samwell. I guess I’m more surprised that Aunt Connie and Uncle Bubba would let them stay with us since we’re living in sin.”

“Uncle Bubba?” Jack asked. “Never mind. They’re both looking at colleges in Boston?”

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “They’re twins, and they’ve always been in the same school. A lot of the time the same classes, because they’re both smart. So they decided they wanted to go to different colleges but try to be in the same city.”

“And Boston has plenty of options,” Jack said.

“Yup,” Bitty said. “I mean, Atlanta has options too, but if they want to get out of Georgia, good for them.”

*

By the time Jack left on his roadie, Bitty was glad to have his cousins’ visit to prepare for. He made sure the linens in the guest bedroom and bathroom were fresh, he bought flowers (at the supermarket, but still), laid in a supply of Coca-Cola, and and baked cookies before they arrived.

That helped take his mind off Jack being gone for three nights … which was fine, really. Last season, they almost never got to spend three nights in a row together at all. Bitty had been spoiled by spending the whole summer with Jack, and now he had to get used to having Jack gone almost as much as he was home. Maybe Bitty would spend a lot of time at the Haus 2.0.

But for now, he had Missy and Ellie coming for two nights and four college tours. Northeastern, Tufts, Boston University and Boston College. It was going to be exhausting, but at least Bitty knew his way around and was used to driving in Boston. Although it might make more sense to do the city ones on the T, and more fun for the girls. 

They arrived at Logan decked out in jeans and hoodies, with jackets over their arms, despite beautiful October weather. Bitty clucked to himself, but remembered how cold sixty degrees felt his first year in Massachusetts.

“What do y’all want to do besides visit the schools?” Bitty said. “Although I think that will take most of our time. And you know I live like an hour away from here, right?”

“We know, Di -- Eric,” Missy said. “Sorry. Aunt Suzanne said no one here calls you Dicky. I figured you might not like it anymore.”

“Anymore?” Ellie snorted. “Did he ever?”

“It’s fine,” Eric said. “I guess if I had my choice, you could call me Eric. Or Bitty. That’s what most people here call me.”

“You don’t mind that?” Missy asked. 

“No,” Bitty said. “It was what my team called me, and what Jack’s whole team calls me.”

“Speaking of,” Ellie said. “Any chance we’ll meet any hockey players?”

“Not Falconers,” Bitty said. “They’re on the road this week. Jack’ll be back very early Saturday, but of course you’ve met him.”

He led the way to the car and headed for a public lot halfway between Northeastern and Boston University.

“Is the traffic always like this?” Missy asked.

“What do you mean?” Bitty said. “It’s not as bad as Atlanta.”

“Maybe not as many cars,” Ellie said. “But they go every which way.”

After an introductory talk and a tour, Bitty took them to Amelia’s for Mexican food for lunch before repeating the routine at BU. Bitty found himself wondering what it would have been like to go to school in the middle of the city instead of in a college town like Samwell. Until now, all he’d seen of the campuses were their ice rinks.

He made them dinner at home, and enjoyed the cooking and washing up and listening to the girls chatter and gossip. It also gave him time to make a couple of pies for the following night.

The next day started with Tufts and ended at Boston College. Dinner was actually at Haus 2.0, where Ransom, Holster, Lardo and Shitty regaled Missy and Ellie with tales of Bitty’s misadventures as a frog.

“Pies just appear?” Missy said. “I know that feeling, around you and Aunt Suzanne. Somehow the baking bug missed Mom.”

“If you guys end up here, I’m sure Bits will deliver,” Holster said. “Having him around was half the reason we decided to stay in Boston. Another beer, Rans?”

Bitty, of course, was not drinking, since he was not only chaperoning his cousins but also driving. This would make three each for Ransom and Holster, which was … probably not good for their long-term health if they were doing it every day, but also not enough to get either of them drunk. Lardo had a beer with dinner, and Shitty disappeared onto the balcony and came back smelling of marihuana.

“Eric?” Ellie asked when they got in the car. “Did your friend go outside to smoke weed?”

“Uh … yes,” Bitty said. “Which is legal here, if you buy it from a dispensary and are over 21. Just so you know, it’ll still get you in trouble if not expelled from college.”

“No duh,” Missy said. “It’s not like we’ve never been around anyone who smoked weed before. I just didn’t expect you to hang around with potheads.”

“Shitty a pothead?” Bitty was indignant. Shitty did smoke pretty regularly, but he also was pulling top marks at Harvard Law, and Bitty rarely saw him too stoned to function responsibly. “I don’t think I’d use that word. He’s one of the smartest people I know, and if that’s how he relaxes, I’m not going to judge him.”

“Did you ever smoke weed?” Missy asked. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” Bitty said.

“Pretty sure that is an answer,” Missy said.

“But don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone,” Ellie said. “What’s the deal with Ransom and Holster? Are they together? I couldn’t tell. Or are they available?”

“Not to you,” Bitty said. “You’re seventeen. They’re grown adults.”

“But they’re not together?” Missy persisted. 

Bitty shrugged. 

“I suppose it means what you mean by together,” he said. “They lived together the whole time I new them, got jobs together and moved in together after college, so I’d say their relationship is primary to both of them. But they also both date. One of the things I learned in college is that nothing is as black-and-white as lots of people seem to think. But those are lessons you’ll learn with people your own age.”

The girls fell quiet, and Bitty wondered if he’d been too harsh.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s not for me to tell you what to do when you get to college. But for now, I have to keep an eye out for you. And if you want a long lecture on power dynamics in relationships, I can set something up with Shitty.”

By the time Bitty went to bed that night, he was glad his cousins came, and even happier that he would be taking them back to the airport to head home tomorrow. It might be nice if they ended up in Bostpn for school, but if that happened, they’d be busy with their own friends and lives, and he could just drop in with pie and sympathy from time to time. Teenagers were exhausting.

*

Bitty woke up when Jack came in, probably somewhere around 3 a.m., and promptly followed Jack’s instructions to go back to sleep. He slept better than he had since Jack left, cocooned in the warm bed with his warmer fiance. 

He didn’t even wake up when Jack, who by rights should be more exhausted than he was, got up in the morning. Or at least it appeared that way, when he rolled over to snuggle into Jack’s said and found only cool sheets.

It was clearly full daylight, so Bitty checked his phone. It was only 8:30, but probably time to get up if he was going to get the girls to the airport in time for their 12:30 flight. There should still be time for pancakes if he could get them up soon.

He washed up and headed for the kitchen, drawn by the sound of giggles, a little surprised that they were already up.

He almost couldn’t believe the sight that met his eyes: Ellie and Missy, attempting to cook (French toast, maybe?) in his kitchen, but overcome with laughter as Jack, clearly just returned from a run, tried to figure out who was who. He wasn’t helped by the way they kept switching names on him just to make it worse.

Bitty stepped into the kitchen and removed the smoking, empty skillet from the burner. 

“Ellie,” he said, pointing, “and Missy, didn’t your mother tell you not to leave a pan on a hot burner unattended?”

“We’re right here,” Ellie said. 

“And yet the pan was smoking,” Bitty said. “You also should ask before cooking in someone else’s kitchen.”

“We just wanted to make breakfast to thank you for letting us stay,” Missy said. “Mom said we should.”

“She said you should start cooking in my kitchen without asking?” Bitty asked, because Aunt Connie set the standard for possessiveness over her kitchen. Which, come to think of it, might be why Ellie and Missy didn’t have any kitchen sense.

“She just said we should do something,” Missy said.

“Well, I’ll consider myself thanked, and you two can go pack your things,” Bitty said. “Breakfast in twenty minutes.”

“Are you sure we can’t stay and help?” Ellie said. “We’re mostly packed.”

“Maybe you could teach us,” Missy said.

It was her eyes straying away to Jack that gave her away. 

“If you want,” Bitty said sweetly. “Jack can help, too.”

“Me?” said Jack, putting his water glassin the sink. “What do you need, bud?”

“Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?” Bitty asked. “You know, for kitchen safety and all that.”

[pitter-pattering-ink]

They call us “Angels”

1.

She has no name but is known by all in her village. She is the woman who weaves baskets faster than anyone else. She is the the one who knows exactly when to pick berries to get the perfect ripeness. She is the mother of a boy who refuses to paint with the other children because the texture of paint against his hands doesn’t feel right. She is the creator of the first paintbrush.

She is my first human, my first assignment as a protector. I guard her from all I can and hope I do well. When she grows ill I hold her hand while she begins to nod off. Her son is in the other room- she did not want him to see her like this. I will look after him too.

In her sleep, she smiles, lacing her fingers through my own. To have a body is still foreign to me, but I manage to squeeze back. She should not be able to feel this. I don’t let go.

-

Our task is simple. Protect the humans. Let them grow. Do whatever we can as to not stall their progress.

And goodness, do they make progress.

2.

He is the first to learn how the scraping of flint and steal can cause sparks to fly. I watch as he grows- he’s a curious one, this one. Many times I lead animals away from where he sits, always too distracted to notice. He has many names, for the grunts and murmurs  of vocal chords are still adjusting, and sound is something they are still trying to find the boundaries of. “Ma” seems to be his favorite. When he figures out how to turn sparks to fire I put myself between him and the flames to keep him from being burnt. They don’t leave marks in the same way they would him.

Everything is fast after that. Suddenly things can be cooked. Meat is much more edible than before. Suddenly water is safe to drink without the risk of disease. Suddenly warmth can be found in places other than the curves of another person. He hands it to everyone he knows and they take it with clumsy footing, no doubt leaving singed earth along their path. We will worry about it later; they learn quicker than anything we have seen in a long, long time.

-

They won’t stop growing. There are so many- we are in the millions but it is only a matter of time before they surpass even that. There are many other species that grow at similar paces. But none of them take so much time to mature. None of them have so much to learn- none of them have all that and more.

We were not built to worry. We do, however, wonder.

3.

They tell stories. Nothing has ever done this before.

Then again, I imagine nothing has ever been this lonely either.

I am assigned a boy named Jack. He is born on a ship, the moistness of wood replacing the soft of grass while the world moves beneath him. When night falls and the waves grow rocky everyone gathers in the middle of the deck, taking turns weaving tales under the stars. They discover religion. They discover us.

We have a name, now. Angels. We have never had a name before- nature never referred to us with anything close to that. It feels foreign against my tongue, yet it’s surprisingly fitting. We grow into our new labels.

Jack slips and nearly falls off deck, but I am there to keep him steady. His mother thanks me for my efforts. Calls it a blessing from the gods. I am no god, but I appreciate the sentiment. She tells him, “Be more careful next time. These waves will only grow more rough.”. She tells him, “The sea is no kind beast. She will balance us above the dangers below but she is not to be held responsible for anything- or anyone- who sinks further.”. She tells him, a bit teary up, “I may be the captain of this ship, but not even I could save you from waters like this.”

He learns how to stay standing when the wood beneath his feet refuses to still. We listen to stories together.

The children’s favorites are the ones told by his mother. She leans against a cane and speaks of adventures she has had, run ins with other pirates, loves she has cherished and betrayals she is still bitter from. Most of them, I’m sure, aren’t half true. Jack does not seem to mind.

Eventually she grows too old to run the ship. He takes her place, leaning against her- his- cane and telling tall tails of danger, run ins he has had with other men his age. Men who he had a fondness for and those expected better of. Most of them, I know, aren’t true in the slightest. The children do not seem to mind and the crew are not the type to ruin a good story.

He dies in his thirties after a particularly rough storm. As careful as he was, nature does not hold back or those who are weary. I keep the pressure off his lungs for as long as I can. I try to make every gulp of water taste sweet and calming. It takes everything in me to make his death peaceful.

But some people are simply not ready. He trashes till he can’t. Panic only clears when his vision darkens.

His body is never found. The crew mourn him like they mourned his mother. They keep the cane in their honor.

-

They won’t stop dying. They pass from the tiniest things, always so quick, always before we can do anything to help. Sometimes we can’t, even given the time. Sickness is everywhere now. People are dying in the streets. We can’t do anything to heal them. The best we can do is prolong the inevitable- that, however, is much too painful a death to seem like a blessing.

They call it the plague. They call it a punishment from god. Our names go from ‘angels’ to ‘demons’ very, very quickly.

We are only able to bless things that already exist. You cannot eat a cake when you have no ingredients. The doctors don’t know how to fix this- they are not yet advanced enough to deal with something this big. We can only sit and watch, horrified, as those we have been sworn to protect die by our feet. I am assigned more people than I can count. Their names become a blur. By the time it’s all over, humanity has changed. They have lost so many. We have lost so many.

For a while, each miracle leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

4.

The most stressful assignments, although also very amusing, are the ones who need to be protected from themselves.

His name has been passed down from generation to generation, yet he much prefers to go by Eric. I help him breathe through his corsets and let time pass faster when he’s forced into a face full of make-up. On the few occasions he steals pants from his brother’s room I make sure his footsteps are quiet, because such things are life or death in times like these.

His family is rich and he is tired. They throw parties of plenty, and I hold his tongue when he’s pressured into dancing with the other men there. He steps on their toes and I laugh. Eric is all too ready to rebel in ways that girls his age get disowned for. I let the small things through, smiling at his internal dialog, filled with sass and curses and things that would make his father turn purple. Nothing too big. Never what he really yearns for.

A boy lets go of his hand and gives a terse smile, excusing himself to the food table. We watch him limp away. Eric grins.

He dies young. With a tongue that sharp, it was to be expected. He is caught kissing a woman with undamaged shoes while they both are wearing pants. It was the only time I let him. Witches, they call them. I do my best to save them both, but it’s useless. Heels are not meant for running.

They are buried in unmarked graves. It’s the only blessing I can give.

-

They recover their numbers quickly. It seems no matter what, they always bounce back in a relatively short amount of time.  It’s amazing. It’s terrifying. We get assigned more than one person at a time.

5.

My first household is a family of three. It’s a mother, a daughter, and a child that’s somewhere in-between. Mostly I look over the children- their mother works from home and is much less prone to mistakes than them. And goodness, are they reckless. Their names are Rose and Julian. Rose is a night owl and I have to make sure on more than one occasion that she doesn’t spill mugs of hot coffee on herself. It’s a brutal task, especially when she refuses to sleep when she should. I urge her to drink colder drinks. She refuses.

She is stubbed toes and dropped papers, noise when it should be quiet. She is clumsy. A long, long time ago, this would have been a dangerous trait to have. But things have changed. This world was built by people like her. She will be okay.

Julian is young but they are not stupid. They know more about the ways of the body than any human I have watched over before, bookshelves filled to the brim with pages upon pages filled with the morbid details of what makes humans blood flesh and bone. They flap their hands when they’re frustrated and chew on whatever they can get their hands on. This world was not made for them. I hope it will be rebuilt by the time they’re old enough to live in it.

They are experiments gone wrong and the urge to learn more, even when it becomes less than safe. I bless their hands to stay uncut while experimenting on a dead frog, holding knives that are much too sharp for someone their age. I don’t stop their mom from waking up to scold them. I do make sure they get to keep the frog.

I grow more connected to these children than anyone else I have ever looked after. Jack would have liked them- he would have told them so many stories. I’m with them while they take their driver’s test, pressing their feet down with just enough pressure on the gas petal for smooth sailing. Rose refuses alcohol for the first time and I am there to make sure she doesn’t give into peer pressure. Julian studies for a medical degree, studies how to make this world better for people like them. They don’t need much help on their tests, but I’m still there to lead their pencil on particularly hard questions.

They move out but they stay connected. I watch them bring new people into their lives, watch as their create families of their own. Over the years they change, sometimes for better and sometimes for worse. But they are always kind. They are always Rose and Julian.

I’m not as foolish to say I forget how they died. However I don’t like to think about it, so that’s as close to forgetting as I’ll get.

They were good.

I was not built to miss people. Yet they still linger.

-

Our task was simple. Protect the humans. Let them grow. Do whatever we could do as to not stall their progress.

There were many we could not save, and even those that we did were still doomed to the same end. Fate has it’s limits- you can only bend it so much. We were already testing it’s patience by simply existing. And that was fine. Death is normal, death is natural.

But these humans- these humans are different. They create and they are kind to a fault and there is nothing else like that. We did not expect to learn from them. We did not expect for this to hurt.

We did not expect to care.

5.

There’s a woman who lives to be 94. She is one of the lucky few to make it so far. She has grandchildren of plenty and their parents are happy. We all call her Nana. I watched over them for generations, the longest I have for any family before. In her last moments she prays. She tells me I did a good job.

Her grandson dies at age seventeen because I am busy helping his brother clean up glass. I do not pray- such things are better left to those who have faith. But I do hope she forgives me.

13.

I try my best to keep them safe. But this family, this family is not meant to last. There is always something wrong, always something broken, always something that needs to be blessed. It wears me out in ways I have not experienced for centuries. I can’t- I can’t help them all.

In the end there is only one left. She cannot bear to be alone.

No miracle can help someone who does not want to be helped.

21.

The sweetest boy I’ve ever protected is in a family full of rotten people. He is the best thing in that house. I give blessing after blessing, miracle after miracle, and he lives to be happy. He finds a husband and a wife- I bless them too. When he dies it’s a shock even to me. The world seems to dim. I protect his spouses and everyone else he cared about. It’s the first time I come dangerously close to grieving. He would not have liked that.

56.

While the family sleeps, their cat nuzzles into the couch and gives me a slow blink. I always end up sitting with it for the next hour. I cannot touch it, but it seems to appreciate my presence anyway. I miracle it mice to catch.

73.

They are sisters- there is nobody left but them. How reckless they are, spray cans routinely clanging against the cement while they take off from the police. They laugh while they run, and it would be sweet if it weren’t so dangerous. They get caught, once, because I feel they need to know just how serious this is.

The cop lets them off with a warning but also makes the one with darker skin lay on the floor while the other stands.

I do not let them get caught again.

When they pass I make sure their graffiti stays up, soon surrounded by many similar pieces by people like themselves. My next assigned family passes it on the way to the subway and I have to pause for a moment. I come very close to smiling. It would have made them happy.

?

We love them,

?

We grieve them,

?

We miss them.

-

We are angels. We are guardians of humans, protectors of families. We are the small miracles, the big blessings, and we play a balancing act with death just for them. Because they are growing and they are evolving. Because they love in ways we did not know were possible and they love us in ways that can only be described as ‘human’.

They have taught us so much. They have taught us to feel.

There is nothing we would not do for them. Challenging fate is just one of our many favors.

We are angels, and they are human. They are learning and so are we. Because of them we know love. We would not trade them for the world.

-

Our task is simple. Protect the humans. Let them grow. Do whatever we can as to not tall their progress.

And my goodness, do they grow.

But to our shock, so do we.

-

[birlcholtz]

5, fluff, any scenario/pairing! :)

5. “You made your choice.” from this prompt list!

have some zimbits fluff for the soul, but first you have to read about bitty and the zimmerclan’s baking shenanigans, that’s the rule. ao3

.

After three years of routinely visiting Bob and Alicia, Bitty no longer feels the need to hold himself back in baking competitions. 

Well, he never really did, anyway, for a few reasons. The first one is that the first time, he and Alicia had teamed up against Jack and Bob, and she had looked him directly in the eye and said “let’s fuck them up” immediately before dumping a full cup of salt into their sugar. The second is that the Zimmermanns, however much they might usually bake when he’s not around, seem legitimately fascinated when he talks about the techniques he’s using or what he’s making and why.

And Bitty is a huge fan of positive attention, so, that was kind of that?

Besides, once Alicia had done the whole salt-and-sugar thing, all hell had broken loose, and Bitty had to try and figure out what to do now that his icing sugar had baking powder in it. It’s definitely a different skill set from baking at home, where he’s pretty much free to concentrate, or in the Haus, where he just has to fend off the occasional invasions to try and steal unbaked cookie dough.

But this year is different. Jack’s read aloud enough snippets from his group chat with his parents that Bitty knows someone (Bob) has been watching a lot of competition baking shows. 

That kind of explains… everything that’s going on here.

“It’ll be a tournament,” Bob had explained, mug of coffee in hand, when Bitty had found him busily moving kitchen furniture that morning (one-handed, by himself, good Lord). “Jack versus Alicia, you against me, then the winners duel each other.”

“Duel?”

“Bake the best cookies ever. Same thing.”

“Best cookies ever, keeping in mind the fact that they’re going to be sabotaged in unholy ways,” Bitty had corrected.

So now here they are. The kitchen is big, but there are simply only two ovens, and that means that they can only have one ‘duel’ happening at once. But the fact that Jack and Alicia are competing against each other hasn’t stopped either of them from trying to get Bitty and Bob to take sides and help out.

“I’m literally just asking one of you to dump in a few more tablespoons of vanilla extract,” Alicia calls from where she’s furiously stirring batter. From the smell, Bitty is guessing gingersnaps, but he’s going to reserve judgment until he actually eats one.

“I’m not making it disgusting if I have to try it after,” Bob replies, mirroring Bitty’s thoughts.

“Then make Eric try those ones.” She looks up from her bowl and grins at Bitty, and he’s struck by the rock-hard determination in her eyes. In moments like this, he sees the resemblance between her and Jack even more clearly. “No offense.”

While she’s looking up, Jack whips around the island and pours a cup of something into her mixing bowl. “Maman, you would need ridiculous amounts of vanilla extract to make a difference.”

But Alicia is distracted. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, did you just put rice in my cookie batter?”

He shrugs at her, and laughs, and goes back to his own batter, but Alicia’s got her scheming face on.

So when Alicia’s gingersnaps come with bonus rice and garlic salt and Jack’s peanut butter cookies kind of turn into one big slab of vanilla-y melted peanut butter, it is absolutely no surprise.

.

The moment Bob had said he would face off against Bitty in the first round, Bitty had had an idea.

See, one of Bob’s main tactics is stealing ingredients from the other person. That way, ideally, they don’t have enough to make their cookies, and he can be sure the ingredients weren’t tampered with.

Well, today is the last day he’s going to try that.

The ingredients for all of them are already measured out into their own containers, labeled for convenience. Bitty had simply waited for Bob to go looking for his phone to record the chaos and swapped the labels on his own containers.

He’s also making flourless cookies, but he’s planning to make a big enough deal out of checking his flour for sabotage that Bob will go right for it. There’s a lot of cream of tartar in there. Also baking powder. And he might try to get in some garlic powder too, because that was frankly inspiring. 

Also, Jack putting in garlic salt meant that Bitty and Bob had to eat gingersnaps with garlic salt. So it’s just fair.

All of these preparations mean that Bitty has had to stay in the kitchen the whole time, just so he can be one hundred percent sure that Bob can’t make the same preparations.

The Zimmermanns get a lot of entertainment from friendly competition where the goal is more to make a fool of your family than it is to actually win, but at the same time, they are ruthless when it comes to making sure everyone else loses. (This, Bitty is pretty sure, is the source of Jack’s devastating Settlers of Catan strategies.) So Bitty has also selected a recipe with only four ingredients, the fewer to fuck up.

He’s going to have to keep a sharp eye over them while they rest before he puts them in the oven, but if they spread, he can always just cut them up and call them cookie bars.

Well. As long as they’re actually solid. Jack’s cookie attempt made that clear.

Bitty is feeling pretty prepared, and he makes a big show of checking his flour container before they start, but unfortunately, it’s all for naught, because he’s in the middle of mixing together the cocoa powder and powdered sugar when he hears quick footsteps, turns to defend himself from what’s probably going to be an onslaught of garlic and/or rice, and gets a face full of flour.

“Damn it,” Bob says calmly, and then he promptly grabs Bitty’s tampered flour container, opens it, and pours it into Bitty’s mixing bowl.

Bitty can hear Jack and Alicia trying not to laugh too loudly, but he just flicks some flour in Bob’s face and picks up his own mixing bowl, manages some spinorama in his socks on the hardwood floor, and pours all of that into Bob’s bowl of wet ingredients.

“I’m resourceful,” he tells Bob, who looks like he’s torn between doubling over laughing and being completely appalled, and scoots past him to get back to his own station.

In the end, they’re even less successful than Jack and Alicia. Bob dumps Bitty’s leftover egg yolks into his batter, along with what must be half a cup of Bob’s own melted butter, and that means Bitty is both out of eggs and his cookies are definitely not going to turn into… real cookies, so he sticks whatever the hell that batter is in the oven and devotes the rest of his time to blocking Bob whenever he tries to get an ingredient. They both wind up with what is basically chocolate chips coated in an uneven mixture of wet and dry ingredients, then melted and/or toasted for good measure.

They universally agree Jack and Alicia don’t have to try to eat those, since nobody knows for sure if the eggs actually got cooked. But that kind of puts an end to the whole competition thing, and once they’re done collectively cleaning the kitchen, Alicia has to take a call from her agent and Bob volunteers to go on a grocery run since now they’re pretty much out of any and all baking ingredients.

Jack flops down on the sectional in the living room, and Bitty joins him, both of them in clean clothes. The sectional is big enough for at least three full-sized hockey players to stretch out comfortably (which makes sense considering Jack and Bob, and Alicia’s plenty tall too), but honestly, what’s the point of stretching out? What he actually wants to do is lay his head on Jack’s chest and enjoy the fact that nobody is going to dump flour on him for at least two days. Probably.

So that’s what he does, with a great view of the skylight in the ceiling, and Jack wraps an arm around him and then asks, “Do I still smell like vanilla? I swear Maman started aiming for my hair after the first couple of tries.”

“She said it was a direct response to the garlic salt,” Bitty reminds him. “You made your choice.”

He feels Jack’s laugh rumbling in his chest, and he says, “I did. It cost me a lot of shampoo. Worth it.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that because you didn’t have to eat them. Lord.” And then Bitty starts laughing too. “Alicia’s face when you poured the rice in was incredible.”

“Good." 

They drift into a comfortable silence, until Jack says, "I’m really glad you like my parents.”

“I’m really glad your parents like me,” Bitty responds. 

“That too. But my parents liked you before we were even really friends at all. I was never worried about that. You liking them means… It makes everything simpler.” Jack’s fingers tap out some sort of rhythm on Bitty’s chest and he wonders what song Jack has stuck in his head. “I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

“You and me both. At least it didn’t come to that.” As Bitty says it, he’s thinking of his own parents— Jack’s incomprehensible friendship with Coach (well, incomprehensible in the sense that Bitty doesn’t speak golf, he understands perfectly well why they get along), his mom’s immediate adoration of Jack, or, as she put it to Bitty later, 'polite and sensible and looks at you like you hung the moon, Dicky’. He’d worried about Jack liking his parents right up until he had gotten them in a room together and realized he probably couldn’t have found a better match. “So we don’t have to worry.”

“No, we don’t,” Jack agrees, and brushes Bitty’s hair back off of his face, and Bitty thinks he could spend the rest of his life here.

[franklyshipping]

Day 25 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

Well.....here we are. The 25th of December, Christmas Day. This isn't a full on fanfic to be honest, this is kind of an epilogue to everything I've posted this month. You're gonna see snippets of everyone on Christmas Day, and so I hope you enjoy it.....let's do it!

TAGGING: @anti-switch-glitch @bim-trimler @bimlee-trimmer @shawn-flynn-the-switch @goog-ler-iplier @robbie-lee-zombie @jack-leeboyman @silvlee-shepherd @yandere-ipli-ler @thehostofleetrature @ed-edlee @google-switchy-red @googlee-oliver @erik-lee-derekson @ericleederekson @googlee-green @thegoodnewsdoctler @doctoripliler @marvin-lee-magician  @marvinleemagician @marvin--the-magnificent @bingy-switch @bingylee @dr-schneeplestein @dr-schneeple-switch @bright-light-mark @kingoflesquirrel @king-of-lee-squirrels @chase-brodlee @darkipli-ler @darkipliler @giggles-and-pink-mustaches @wilford-lee-warfstache @the-authler @the-dapper-switch @its-lee-mad-mike

Plus, all the other characters included that don't have accounts in the community that I'm aware of: Harold B Darrensworth, Blankgameplays, Abe the Detective, Goopiplier, Kinkiplier, Benjamin the Butler, Gooper, Mini Bing, Angelicsepticeye, Angus the Survival Hunter, ~ Isaac Brody, Marceline Brody, Sofia Schneeplestein, Luca Schneeplestein (All first names are NOT CANON, I just made em up) ~ Madpat, Natemare, FNAF Night Guard, District Attorney (Y/N), and Celine ~~~ALSO PLEASE BE AWARE THAT I DON'T HAVE EVERY EGO IN THE TAGS BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIT THEM ALL!

Also, if anyone's interesting....the total word count for the series was 59,546.....wowie....okay, now onto the fic!

So…here we are, the day is at hand…I’m not going to go into detail because y’know, I want to leave them all to it, but I can set the scene for all of you. The main living room is full, and there’s nobody sat on their own…but it’s not overwhelming either. It’s just perfect.

First off, Harold was with Anti, curled up and giggling against his chest as the glitch smirked fondly down at him. Harold had never looked more dishevelled and out of order, but he was so damn happy. Anti had found a spare stream of emerald and silver tinsel, and was using it to tickle around Harold’s ears and neck….at Harold’s request. See, when they’d finally worked as a team, decorating together, and the more and more tinsel Harold felt….the more and more he wondered how it would feel at his tickle spots. Of course, Anti was more than eager to have the chance to tickle Harold again, and so was just enjoying the feeling of the flustered man giggling and squeaking into his chest….it was the most precious sight.

Then there was Bim and Shawn, who were sat with Google Blue and Blank. Shawn was blushing into Bim’s shoulder as Bim rambled on about the beauty of Shawn’s carving at the top of the tree, much to the fond amusement of Blue and Blank. The four of them shared a couch, with Bim, Shawn and Blue sitting, whilst Blank lay atop them with his feet in Google’s lap. Every few moments, as they listened to Bim, Google swiped his fingers up his boyfriend’s feet with a cheeky wink….because why the hell not.

Then we have Robbie and Jackie….surrounded by so much chocolate. So much. Robbie had already eaten so much of it that he was practically vibrating as babbled to and jostled the superhero, filled with giddy joy. Jackie of course was relishing in it, because Robbie was too darn cute and he adored him so much. Also, Jackie had the luxury of Robbie insisting on feeding him chocolates, I mean, how he could he refuse a) such a sweet offer, and b) Robbie’s adorable face? He just couldn’t.

Now, here we have our first cuddle pile consisting of a detective and a VERY snuggly polyamory. Consider Abe adopted. They’d found a particularly comfy rug together, engaging in a cuddly tickle-fest where no one was safe. Host would get tickles as punishment for his board game antics, Silver would get tickles just for being adorable, Yandere would get tickles when they were being a sassy brat, and Abe would get tickled by the whole poly because they loved to gang up on their loved ones. It was adorable.

Now, onto our next cuddle pile on another rug….where we have two blooming couples on our hands. Especially in Eric and Google Green’s case because Eric was insisting on never taking off his flower crown. He was snuggled into Green’s torso and softly nuzzling his core, purring at the warmth and giggling at how Green would twitch and blush. Then there were Google Red and Ed, the former lying on his brother’s legs whilst Ed basically lay upon Red’s whole body. Ed was nuzzling Red’s core, whilst smirking and playing footsie so he could watch his Google turn into flustered little cranberry.

Now, let us have some absolute cuties. In addition to his normal gag, a certain ego (Wilford) had gifted Kink a pair of cute, purple, glittery padded handcuffs….which he was now wearing after being persuaded by the doctor and the, supposedly, innocent android. Now, he was being subjected to the most debilitating, sadistic teases from the doctor in his ear as Oliver teased all his tickle spots, both of them cooing about how vulnerable he was and about how he loved it. They weren’t wrong, and Kink felt like they were the best gifts he could have asked for.

Now, this next group are a subtle group, nestled together on another couch covered in quilts and smiles. Mike was wearing one of Benjamin’s shirts as a pyjama shirt, whilst he fed Benjamin spoonfuls of his experimental festive ice creams. Gingerbread, Candy Cane, Christmas Pudding, there was a whole range…and Benjamin was in heaven. Meanwhile, Jamie was wearing Celine’s shawl over his pyjamas whilst Celine wore his Christmas jumper (which was adorned with a pattern of pocket watches wearing Santa hats). They were holding hands, fingers interlaced and legs entangled as they competed over who could give the tickliest of kisses. This was a contest that was to remain ongoing for a very, very long time.

Now, we have a playful revenge taking place. Mini Bing was squeaking and giggling on the floor in-between two people, encased by an amber mist….a tickling charm no less. Marvin’s eyes gleamed with fondness as he relaxed on the floor with Bing, who was snickering with satisfaction, both at the vengeance and at Marvin’s wonderful assistance. Not only this, but Bing was also playing with Marvin’s long hair because it was absolutely frickin rad and soft….and Marvin certainly didn’t complain.

Now we have our egos of the outdoors, the two angels, the hunter, and the King. King had allowed himself to be coaxed inside, and was happy he’d let it happen….because he’d met so many lovely people, as had his subjects. Some of them were occupying themselves with nuzzling the wings of Angelo and Angie, who were both in happy stitches from it all. The King himself was giggling too, because Angus had decided to playfully try and lick off some of his peanut butter beard, and it was the cutest, giddiest battle of all time.

Here now, we have a father, son, and that son’s newest unlikely godfather. Schneeple was regretting his decision a tad though, because now said godfather (the Author) was sat on top of him and attempting to coach Luca in the arts of tickle torture. However, the little boy was only really interested in giggling his heart out every time his father laughed….so Schneeple was getting wrecked by the Author, but everybody was having a hell of a lot of happy fun. Also, having his daughter Sofia heckling him and teasing him along with Madpat certainly helped….make it even more fun.

We have another father too….also being completely and utterly ganged up on. With Isaac sat on his chest, Mare straddling his waist, and Marceline pinning his hands….it’s made Chase’s face oh so wonderfully vulnerable. Mare was smirking down at the dad as Marceline fluttered her make-up brushes all over Chase’s cheeks, and every time he squealed, Isaac clapped his hands giddily. This was frankly horrendously cute, I think you can all agree.

To a more intimate pair now. Yanan and Guard shared an armchair, and the former was really blushing up a storm. Guard was teasing them, relentlessly purring in their ear about all the ways he was going to tickle them and make them smile and feel all warm and flustered inside. Yanan loved every second. They gasped when he talked about nibbling their ribs for Christmas Dinner they squeaked when he teased about teasing their bare feet….and they squealed and hid in his chest when Guard simply cooed about how much cute mirth he was going to coax from their pretty lips. It was beautiful.

And now, our final group….oh what a myriad. First, we have all the Jims, and a group of Jims I believe is called….a Jim. A Jim of Jims. Well, three of them were clamouring to Dark whilst the youngest blushed. Reporter Jim’s brothers were gushing about the gift album he’d made to Dark, and Dark was just enjoying hearing about such a loving deed….and smirking at the flustered Jim, winking at him occasionally because he was an evil shit who wanted to keep him blushing for as long as possible. There was another young man blushing too, namely Goop….who was being frantically hugged by a squealing Wilford Warfstache who had just opened his lava lamp gift. So much love, so little anxiety.

Then….there’s our guy. Our glob. Our globbins. Our goop. Our gloop. Our goopy. Our Gooper. Going round from ego to ego, person to person, child to child….and being given so much love that he didn’t know what to do with it all. Cuddles, tickles, kisses, nuzzles, pokes, coos, kind words….there was just so much love. However you should know, that Gooper had no festive duties today, the egos had insisted upon it. From chef to Santa to present bearer to comfort giver to cook to organiser….he’d done it all, and now it was time for him to relax and enjoy everything the day had to offer…..and he did. Everyone did.

Well....that's it. I really hope you guys enjoyed this, I know I have. I urge you to please reblog and comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of this Christmas series....it would honestly mean the world to me. Luv yous xx

[allthingspieandhockey]

Skating Skates - 2020 Part 8

The next installment for THIS FIC - it won’t make any sense unless you’re read the first 9k. And I’ll update AO3 when this chapter is properly finished (i.e. Part 8 and 9 together).

2020 Part 8

           The group chat blows up of course, and he sends them a quick message simply saying it was time. He doesn’t need all of their nosey beaks poking around, or worse cock-blocking him by turning up on his door; he takes the time to give Shitty a quick call to head that off. He turns his phone back onto silent and ignores it. His parents arrive on Saturday in time for brunch and he’s glad for their presence, keeping him occupied and distracted. While they’re out a few people approach to ask for autographs, usually from both him and his dad, but it’s not as bad as he thought it might be. At least people are still wanting his autograph. He guesses that people probably won’t walk up and say shit to his face, especially when he’s with his family.

         They get supplies from the store to make dinner and he tries to not think about how quiet it’s going to be when they all leave tomorrow. Instead he tries to stay present, lets his mom take photos of him and Annelise preparing dinner and posts them on her Instagram. His dad puts the Sven antlers on and chases Annelise around pretending to be a bull despite her screeching that reindeer don’t chase people. His mom takes over the cooking and his dad joins her and he watches them move together with the practice of years.

         Dinner is delicious and he wishes his parents lived closer, because it’s definitely a meal that his trainer would approve of, but he can ever seem to make anything taste this good. He remembers the pie and pulls it out, smiles at the memory of Eric’s horrified look when he’d gone to put the fruit pie in the fridge last night. Sacrilege apparently. He serves it up, allowing himself a small sliver, while he gives everyone else decent sized wedges along with the last of the ice-cream in his freezer.

         “Mmm, this pie is wonderful! Where did you buy it?”

         “Ah, my um… neighbor made it.”

         “Mr Eric! He lives with Uncle Lexi!”

         Jack scrunches up his face, because of course he can’t be subtle or keep something from his parents when Annelise just blurts stuff out like that. His dad is looking a bit confused, but his mother says something under her breath in French which he doesn’t quite catch and then his expression changes to one of comprehension and Jack would be annoyed if he didn’t also realize they have his best interests at heart. There’s no pressure, none that he hasn’t put on himself already anyway. His mom doesn’t say anything more about the pie but he knows that she might have an idea exactly who Eric is.

         He says goodbye to Annelise on Sunday, touched that she cries, arms wrapped tightly around his neck that his heart breaks a little, and he looks at his parents and almost feels like he could burst into tears as well. He doesn’t though, lets his dad hug him and tell him he’s proud of him; no matter how many times he hears him say it he still struggles to believe it. His mom cups his jaw and thanks him for the cards and he hugs her tightly, tells her he will miss her and then he’s alone, watching their hire car drive away to the airport.

         Knowing he will likely struggle to sleep if he doesn’t get a proper workout he packs his bag and heads to the rink. It’s off season, they’ve got the loosest of schedules before training camp, and the gym is empty. He puts an audio book on and just starts working out, wanting to distract his mind and tire out his body. Tater joins him after an about an hour and he just reaches out to bump fists as he walks past to the elliptical and he lets himself enjoy the fact that he’s not alone for right now. Of course Tater follows him when he’s done and he wouldn’t put it past Tater to have gone looking for him and known he was here.

         “You okay? Quiet yes?”

         “Yeah… too quiet.”

         “Come eat with us tonight.”

         “Yeah, okay.”

         Later, when he’s halfway up the stairs to Tater’s his apartment he realizes exactly who the ‘us’ is and his steps falter a little, because he hadn’t forgotten, but he had been preoccupied with other things. He knocks on the door and waits, hopes that Tater answers. He does and Jack follows him through to the kitchen and Eric is cooking, moving his body to the music coming through the speakers; he feels his lips twitch to a smile.

         “Thanks for inviting me. Uh… will there be enough?”

         “Oh honey, we were already planning on making you a plate. Sasha was pretty insistent. And I’m used to cooking for appetites…” The smile he gives Jack has his stomach swooping pleasantly and he knows logically that it’s just Eric’s upbringing that has endearments tripping off his tongue, but he likes it. A lot.

         They eat at the table, the conversation flowing easily. Jack keeps his legs tucked under his chair, glad that Tater and Eric both seem happy to carry the conversation for now. He learns that Eric’s coach has also moved to Providence and it was somehow a joint decision. Eric intends to retire after the next winter Olympics, but that is still two years away and he has to qualify, and both Jack and Tater make scoffing sounds, as if the thought of him not qualifying is ridiculous and Eric looks quietly amused. They talk about hockey, and he finds himself slowly relaxing as he finds Eric knows quite a lot about hockey as well.

         “I played non-contact in high-school before I quit to focus just on figure skating. Every moment on the ice possible you know?”

         Jack does know, that pull that sometimes aches inside when he hasn’t felt ice under his feet for a few days. He says as much and both Tater and Eric nod, agreeing and he smiles, because he’s never voiced that out loud before and now that he has and to have them express the same sentiment makes him feel understood, in a way he hasn’t really felt since he was at Samwell.

         Conversation ebbs and flows easier after that, Jack talks about his friends and learns about Eric’s family and friends. Tater interjects with funny stories of both of them occasionally and it’s obvious that while Tater and Eric may have just met, that they’ve at least known each other through mutual friends for a while. Jack agrees to a small amount of pie and helps clear the dishes before settling himself on the sofa.

         “I very tired. Go to bed now…” Tater says, stretching his arms in what is very clearly a fake yawn and Jack resists the urge to face palm on his behalf. Eric looks like he’s holding back a laugh himself, his head shake and eye roll enough to make Jack grin rather than be annoyed.

         “He’s not subtle…” Jack says, jerking his head in the direction Tater has gone.

         “He really isn’t. He has a heart of gold though and he cares about you a lot. He’s already given me the shovel talk…In English and in Russian.”

         Jack groans, rubbing his face with a hand, but Eric is laughing, no, giggling and Jack looks at him and knows he’s not imagining the touch of heat in Eric’s eyes.

         “Did you want more company tonight though?”

         Jack sucks in a deep breath, already shaking his head as he lets it out slowly.

         “Uh, I… really want to say yes, but, eh, just let me get through the press conference tomorrow and then… Tomorrow night maybe?”

         “You don’t waste time do you?”

         “Not when I want something,” Jack says, and then he flushes, realizing how that sounds exactly, and it’s not how he meant it at all. Except Eric is looking delighted. “You just asked me right now,” Jack sputters and it just makes Eric laugh, and he loves the sound of it.

         “Well, I don’t waste time either. I’ll see you tomorrow night I guess?”

         “Yeah. Dinner?”

           “Definitely.”

[legojacques]

Zimbits, food innuendos, and the grocery store AU that none one of you asked for. (2.9 K words)

—

“Oh!” Bitty gasped in equal parts surprise and indignation. “He’s back!” he hissed, frantically slapping Will’s arm to get his attention.

“Who?” Will asked, glancing up from his phone.

“That guy!”

Both Bitty and Will watched as the man came through the automatic doors. He blinked a couple of times, his eyes adjusting from darkness to the sudden glare of the fluorescent lighting. With the exception of his yellow running shoes, which contrasted vividly with the rest of his outfit, he looked like he was dressed to rob a place, something that Bitty would have found it moderately funny if he wasn’t so annoyed.

“He looks familiar,” Will eventually said with a shrug and went back to texting. The open textbook he’d been skimming earlier sat ignored on the scanner.

“That’s because he was in here last week. He left a jar of pickles in the middle of the coffee and tea aisle.”

“Lots of people do that, Bits.”

“Yeah, but two days before that I found another jar nestled between the chips and the cheese puffs,” Bitty said darkly.

It wasn’t like this guy was the first person who left stuff where it didn’t belong, but it had been happening much more frequently lately, and always when the same guy came into the store during the late hours of Bitty’s shifts. After a long day of classes and work, Bitty really didn’t feel like picking up after this guy who couldn’t be bothered to put the stuff back where he’d found it.

Tonight, he was supposed to be shelving in aisle three, but Bitty had finished stacking soup cans an hour ago, and had gone up to the till to bug Will. It wasn’t quite ten o’clock yet, and as expected, the store was almost empty, except for Johnson who lived around the corner and liked to do his grocery shopping at weird hours.

Bitty was leaning against the conveyor belt, still griping about people who didn’t put stuff back where they got it when Will straightened up and put his phone in his pocket. Bitty turned around to find the guy standing at the register with an armload of groceries, and Bitty’s first thought was to wonder why he didn’t grab a basket on his way in.

While Will worked, Bitty moved to reorganize the candy bars at the next register while trying not to be too obvious about surreptitiously studying the customer. He was tall, Bitty noted, probably as tall as Will, with broad shoulders. The guy kept his eyes focused on the screen that flashed the price every time Will slid an item across the scanner. His eyes flickered up once to glance at Bitty before going back to his groceries.

When he’d paid, the guy grabbed his bags with a mumbled thanks. Bitty tried not to stare at his retreating form, but he couldn’t help it when the black spandex shorts showed off an ass that Bitty only dreamed of achieving. When he looked back, Will was already smirking at him.

“Not a word,” Bitty warned.

—

Bitty had taken to following the guy around the store whenever he came in. His excuse was that he didn’t want to find another tub of half-melted ice cream sitting somewhere again even though it had actually been an old lady who hadn’t wanted to walk back to freezer.

It wasn’t hard that hard, especially in the open produce section where Bitty pretended to rearrange the display of apples he’d already perfected hours earlier. It was when they got into the aisles that it got harder to make it not obvious.

Bitty wasn’t sure if he was successful or not after two days. On one hand, he hadn’t caught the guy putting grocery items in random spots, but Bitty was also sure that the guy had caught on to Bitty’s spying.

It didn’t seem to deter him from coming back, though.

Three days later, Bitty was covering the register for Justin who’d taken off to the bathroom because of a stomach ache. Bitty watched as the guy came in and briefly considered the selection of gummy candies at the end of the aisle. He threw a glance over his shoulder at Bitty before he vanished behind a row of shelves.

Bitty rang three customers through before the guy reappeared again. He put a pack of batteries on the end of the conveyor belt, and then, after a second thought, he added a pack of mints on top it.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” Bitty asked.

“Uh, yeah,” the guy said, though his face suggested otherwise.

Bitty scanned the items, keeping his head down, but he could feel the guy’s sharp gaze on him. He didn’t know why it unnerved him, but Bitty resisted the nervous habit of putting his hands in his employee vest while the guy pulled out his wallet to pay.

“Have a good night,” Bitty said pleasantly.

“You too,” came the reply, and with one last look that Bitty couldn’t decipher, he exited out the sliding doors.

—

“Excuse me?”

Bitty looked up to see the familiar stranger standing hesitantly over where he was stacking bags of sugar on the bottom shelf. “Hi,” he said automatically.

“Uh, which would you recommend?”

Bitty stood up fully, relieving the aching muscles in his legs, and glanced the at the two different brands of pasta sauce that were clutched tightly in the guy’s hands. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had either.”

“Oh.” The guy frowned at the jars as if they’d somehow betrayed him.

“I usually cook with the stuff that has the picture of the Italian lady on the label.”

“Oh,” he repeated again.

Bitty, unsure of how to continue, stared at the guy. He wasn’t wearing a hat tonight, and his wind-ruffled hair stood up in all different directions. Bitty was struck by the most confusing urge to run his fingers through and smooth down the errant pieces. Granted, the guy was very attractive, but Bitty had to remind himself that he was at work. He finally cleared his throat. “I could show you,” he offered, and the guy finally looked up from the sauce.

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully, tipping his head slightly. Bitty shouldn’t think that was cute, but he did.

Bitty led him back down the aisle before he realized that his usual brand wasn’t even stocked on the shelf. “I’m pretty sure we have a bunch in the back that I haven’t put out yet. I can grab them. How many do you need?”

The guy’s eyes widened. “Uh, um, seventeen?”

Bitty didn’t even blink before he pasted on a bright smile. He’d stopped questioning people who bought in bulk a long time ago. “Sure,” he said.

Later, Justin found Bitty in the break room. “Dude, Jack Zimmermann just bought like two dozen jars of spaghetti sauce.”

“Who?” Bitty asked, still staring down at his phone.

“Uh, Jack Zimmermann,” Justin slowly enunciated, like it was a name that Bitty should know. “The captain of the Falconers?” When Bitty continued to stare with the same blank expression, Justin huffed in disbelief. “Slide over,” he insisted as he pulled out his own phone to educate Bitty.

—

Bitty liked to think that he didn’t get star struck easily. It was a theory he held on to because the closest famous person he’d ever encountered was one of his mother’s former high school friends who’d played a minor character on a soap opera for a few years.

Knowing who Jack Zimmermann was now shouldn’t have changed how Bitty thought about him, and yet when Jack came back on Thursday night, Bitty felt strangely aware of him from the moment he set foot in the store. It may also have had something to do with the fact that Bitty had gone through several hours worth of pictures and videos online, and now, he was feeling a little like a stalker. He only hoped his guilt wasn’t too obvious. Justin would never forgive him if Bitty scared away an NHL star.

He was on register duty tonight again, which gave him a perfect view of Jack as he went over the bananas. Bitty had seen enough people shop for fruit to know that most people took their time, checking for ripeness and bruising, but Jack seemed not to be bothered and grabbed the first bunch of bananas before turning around and coming to pay.

Bitty had to remind himself to breathe normally as he put the bananas on the scale.

“So, uh, Eric,” Jack said, breaking the silence and squinting at the name badge.

“Bitty,” he corrected, and seeing the confusion on Jack’s face, he clarified, “It’s what I go by.”

“I’m Jack,” he offered, and Bitty had to bite his tongue before he blurted out ‘I know’ on accident. “You work a lot of night shifts?”

Bitty shrugged, hoping that it came off as casual. “I guess it’s the way the schedule worked out this semester. My classes are usually late morning and early afternoon.” He didn’t even stutter; he was proud of himself.

“That’s good.” Jack smiled. “What are studying in school?”

Bitty was about to answer, but a croaky voice interrupted. “Excuse me, young man. Where did you put the tuna?”

“Aisle eight, ma’am,” Bitty replied.

The old lady frowned. “It’s not there. I checked. I want the tuna with the blue label on it, not that discount crap.”

He inwardly sighed. “Just a moment, ma’am.” Handing Jack his change, Bitty smiled and said, “Have a good night.”

“Thanks,” he replied, and Bitty didn’t know better, it almost sounded like disappointment.

—

The pressure of finals was getting to Bitty, but instead of studying, Bitty found himself stress baking during the late hours. He was tired, but no matter how many times he tossed around on his tiny bed, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He finally convinced himself that he’d be better off doing something productive. It was also just his luck that he was out of butter even though he could have sworn he’d had a stick in the freezer.

Pulling on his coat, Bitty headed down the grocery store.

Will was working tonight, and Bitty waved at him when he came in. Grabbing a basket, Bitty headed towards the dairy section at the back of the store. There someone standing right in front of butter that Bitty needed and his steps slowed as he approached, but he didn’t have the patience tonight to stand around and wait until they moved.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The other person turned around, and in his weary state, it took Bitty a moment to realize it was Jack Zimmermann. Fortunately, Jack seemed to have the same delayed reaction because he blinked blankly before there was a spark of recognition. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Me,” Bitty said with amusement.

“You’re not working tonight,” Jack stated.

“Uh, no.”

“You haven’t been working all week,” he added. Bitty looked confusedly at Jack. “It’s just–I mean– I,” he stuttered before he broke off and stared straight ahead at the bricks of margarine.

“What? Did you miss me?” He laughed jokingly, but the muscle in Jack’s jaw only tensed.

“No,” he said unconvincingly.

After a pause, Bitty said, “I have final exams. I took some time off of work.”

Jack glanced back sharply. “But you’re here now.”

“Yeah, because I needed butter.” And speaking of which, Bitty took the opportunity to grab what he’d originally come in for. “I’m baking,” he explained as Jack watched him.

“It’s pretty late,” he commented, checking his watch.

Bitty finally noticed for the first time in their conversation Jack was holding a jar of pickles, and because he was sleep-deprived, he couldn’t stop what came tumbling out of his mouth. “Don’t put your pickles where they don’t belong.”

Jack was, understandably, taken aback. “What?”

It was too late to take it back and Bitty was already internally slapping himself. “Your jar of pickles,” he said weakly. “Um, you should buy them, or least bring it to the front and tell us you’ve changed your mind. Don’t just keep leaving it somewhere.”

“Uh, I’ve never done that, but okay.”

Bitty leveled him a glare. “I have to pick up after you every time.”

Jack shook his head. “I really haven’t left jars of pickles anywhere,” he insisted. “Is that why you were following me around?”

“No,” Bitty denied, but then he immediately felt bad about lying. “Maybe.”

“Are you going to keep following me around?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied glibly.

Jack cocked his head to one side as if he was contemplating something. “Well, maybe you should. You know, just to make sure.” He shook the jar teasingly at Bitty before turning and leaving.

Stunned, Bitty could only drop his mouth open, and when he finally regained his wits, Jack had already turned the corner.

—

The grocery store was not that large, but apparently it was big enough for Jack Zimmerman to disappear on Bitty.

“He’s in the bakery department,” Will said without looking up from the gossip magazine he was reading at the front till.

“Who?” Bitty asked innocently. Will snorted and rolled his eyes.

Jack was studying a pre-packaged pie when Bitty finally caught up and too-casually strolled by. “I wouldn’t recommend that,” he said lightly while studying a bag of dinner rolls. “It’s not that good.”

“What’s good, then?” he asked, putting the pie back.

Bitty pretended to think it over. “I guess you’ll have to follow me to find out,” he said, and now that he had the last word, it was his turn to leave. Jack had long legs though, and easily kept up with Bitty, which ruined the whole exit effect.

In the freezer section, Jack scoffed at the frozen waffles. “What’s wrong with waffles?” Bitty asked.

“Nothing,” Jack said nonchalantly. “It’s just not what I prefer to eat in the mornings.”

Bitty choked on his own spit in surprise, and for the second time that night, he gaped openly at Jack, wondering for a split second if he’d heard wrong. The little shit, however, smiled politely and carried on like it was nothing.

“That cantaloupe isn’t ripe,” Bitty warned a little later.

Jack looked down dubiously. “How can you tell?”

“You give it a squeeze,” Bitty said, leaning over to lightly grope the melon. “And then, you have to tap it.” He didn’t even wait for the satisfaction of seeing Jack’s reaction before he started walking away in the opposite direction.

They took turns doing that, each offering some sort of commentary on a grocery item while the other person chased after.

After Bitty had picked up fifth or sixth grocery item, Jack appeared on the other side of Bitty. “That’s a big sausage.”

Bitty glanced down at the party-sized salami he’d randomly chosen before grinning at Jack. “I think I can handle it.”

“You sure it’s not too much?”

“Maybe for you, but I can take it,” Bitty delivered with a straight face that would have been perfect if it weren’t ruined by Jack’s unwavering and intense gaze. He bit his lip, wondering if he’d gone too far, but Jack’s blue eyes flickered to Bitty’s mouth, and he could feel himself getting warm in other areas he’d been ignoring all night.

“We’ll see about that,” Jack murmured.

The fifteen-minute closing warning came on the intercom, and broke the hypnotic spell that was holding Bitty. His mouth felt dry and he had to swallow before he could say anything else. “We should probably go pay for this,” he said faintly.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed.

Out in the parking lot, there was a moment of awkwardness as Bitty tried to tamp down the indescribable flutter in his chest. “So,” he started.

“Pie?”

“Huh?” Whatever train of thought Bitty had going was derailed.

“You said earlier, uh, that I’d have to follow you to find out about the good pie,” Jack said, self-consciously scratching the back of his neck. Bitty was suddenly struck by the contrast of how different Jack’s sudden hesitation was compared with his innuendos whispered in Bitty’s ear just minutes earlier. He almost laughed, but stopped himself it could bubble out of him.

“The best pie is pie that I make,” Bitty said slowly.

“Are you ever going to share this pie?”

“I haven’t made it yet.” Then, boldly taking a step forward, Bitty smoothed a hand over Jack’s collar. “But, how do you feel about pie for breakfast?”

Jack’s grin was downright salacious. “Can’t wait to try it.”

—

Epilogue

It was nearly nine o’clock and the evening crowd had thinned until the store was almost empty. The tell-tale whooshing sound of the doors sliding opening alerted Bitty a new customer, and a familiar hockey player walked in. He headed down one of the far aisles, but it wasn’t long before he confidently came striding back up to the till.

He tossed a pack of condoms on the conveyor belt. Bitty locked eyes with him and it was brief staring contest before Jack Zimmermann smirked and added a pack of mints on top of the box. Bitty dutifully refrained from comment as he scanned the items. “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“I have now.”

Bitty could feel the corners of his mouth curve upward as he handed back the change. “Have a good night.”

“It’s going to be a great night,” Jack promised. Then, leaning in closer, he whispered, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

The end of Bitty’s shift couldn’t come soon enough.

—

Edit: Now with more food innuendos!

Thanks for reading! More of my writing here!

[zaddyzimmermann]

Something Worth While (Pt. 2)

Alright y’all sorry this took forEVER to edit but here it is. I’ve got a basic idea of where I want this to go but I still don’t know how long it’s gonna be lol. I also decided to keep this on tumblr for now because for some reason I’m super self-conscious about it (I feel like I’m exposing myself IDK)

Also, thank you all for your lovely messages they really encourage me to get off my lazy ass and write this stuff

Heads Up: There is a scene that is a bit NSFW

(Pt. 1)

********

Jeremy - 7 years old

He didn’t mean to run away. He really didn’t. Jeremy was excited to get home from school on Friday, running inside to see if his Papa returned home from his roadie. His flight got delayed, his Dad told him. So Jeremy thought he would surprise his Papa by walking to the airport.

So he left the house with only a sweatshirt and walked down the sidewalk of his development with good intentions. Jeremy probably could have asked his Dad to drive him or even just have called his Papa, but this was something he had to do. There seemed like no other option and he wanted to, he really did. Jeremy felt like this was the best route to take, so why not?

It wasn’t until he got to the end of his development he felt a little lost. He didn’t really know which way to go, so Jeremy chose the right because he’s a righty. He’s now walking inside the bikers lane of the gravel road, and the cars that zoom by startle him every once in awhile. When Jeremy gets to an intersection, a car pulls up next to him.

“Jeremy?” It was his Dad’s friend Lily, who would sometimes come over with her daughter because she was friends with Aria.

“Hi Mrs. Cooper.” Jeremy waves in a polite greeting. His parents always taught him proper etiquette when you see someone you know. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine, Jeremy.” She looks confused, and Jeremy didn’t know why. “What are you doing out here?”

“I wanna go surprise my Papa at the airport. Do you know how to get there?”

“Does your Dad know you’re out here, honey?” Mrs. Cooper frowns, and Jeremy is temporarily stumped because she didn’t answer his question, and also because he didn’t know.

“I don’t know.” Jeremy answers honestly.

“Well,” Mrs. Cooper smiles kindly, “Why don’t we get you back home? I’m sure your Dad knows where the airport is.”

“Good idea.” Jeremy smiles, opening the back door to her car and climbing into the back seat.

Mrs. Cooper calls someone on the phone as she drives Jeremy back to his house. He’s excited to go to the airport with his Dad, and he’s thinking he should have invited his Dad to go with him in the first place. That would have made it more fun.

They pull into Jeremy’s driveway, and he sees his Dad halfway across their property before they even park.

Jeremy hops out of the back seat and smiles at his Dad, but it falters slightly when he sees his Dad has tear streaked cheeks and more pooling in his eyes as falls to his knees and wraps Jeremy in a tight hug.

“Jeremy, don’t you ever do that again.” His Dad says firmly as he can, but his voice is shaking.

“Do what?” Jeremy was confused. “Dad, what happened?”

“Don’t run away on me, baby. You scared me. I didn’t know where you went.” His Dad says into Jeremy’s hair.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Jeremy feels a little guilty now, since he worried his Dad so much. He still didn’t understand the big deal.

“Where were you going?” His Dad asks, clutching him tighter. His Dad must have really missed him. “Why were you on the road? Jer, you could have been hit.”

“I wanted to surprise Papa. At the airport.” Jeremy defends himself.

“Oh Lord.” His Dad sighs before pulling away. He kisses Jeremy’s forehead, then stands up before taking Jeremy’s small hand in his. His Dad’s hand is still shaking. “Thank you so much, Lily. You’re an angel descended from heaven.”

“Of course, Eric. It was no problem.”

Jeremy listens to them say their goodbyes before his Dad takes him back into the house.

“Can we go visit Papa at the airport now?” Jeremy presses, not letting it go.

“What?” His Dad shakes his head, finally understanding. “No, Jeremy. We are going to wait until he gets home.”

“But I don’t wanna.” Jeremy protests, following his Dad into the kitchen. “I wanna go now.”

“Honey,” His Dad sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m very tired and still a bit shaken from this whole thing. Can we just watch some television together? I’ll even give you some ice cream before dinner.”

Jeremy didn’t want to do that at all, and he opened his mouth to snap just that, but his Dad was already walking into the kitchen and ignoring him.

“Why can’t we go?” Jeremy demands, chasing his Dad into the kitchen. “Aria is at ballet so we would be back in time.”

“Jeremy.” His Dad gives him a stern look, one that angers Jeremy sometimes, because that’s the look his Dad gets when he’s frustrated. “We’re staying home.”

“Why do you hate me!” Jeremy suddenly snaps, and his Dad immediately stiffens.

“Jeremy, I don’t hate you.” His Dad says incredulously, bending down once again to be at eye level with his son. “Why do you want to go so bad? Your Papa has only been gone for two days.”

“We never do things I wanna do!” Jeremy feels frustrated tears pool in his eyes, and it makes his Dad look a little worried; either because he was about to deal with a temper tantrum all alone, or because his son was about to cry and Eric hated it when his son was upset.

Instead of fighting back with his seven year, Eric tries a new approach. “He’ll be home soon. I promise, honey. Will you help me with dinner? You always make it better than I do.”

Jeremy gives his Dad a look that resembles hatred, but not quite, before storming off to his room and slamming the door.

***

Jeremy’s eyes snap open and the room is black, except for the glow of the moonlight. His body has a slight tremor and sweat is coating his skin, and his mind is thinking faster than he can process. At first he doesn’t know where he is, but he turns his head to see the picture of his family on the night stand. Then it’s like a punch to the face, because this isn’t a dream. He goes to Samwell. He almost died in a car accident. When he tries to remember himself in that drunken and manic state, he wonders if he wrapped around that tree on purpose.

The thought haunts him sometimes, when moments are quiet and he’s left alone to reflect. He knows it’s something he should probably bring up to his therapist, but he can never find the courage to.

It’s two in the morning, but he calls his Papa anyway. It rings four times before a groggy voice sounds from the other side. “Jeremy? Are you alright?”

“Sort of. Sorry to wake you up.” Jeremy says, quite timidly. It’s not like he’s scared of his Papa, but sometimes it’s still hard for him to ask for help.

“Don’t worry, bud.” His Papa assures, and Jeremy hears his father shuffle out of bed and close the door as he probably exits his room so he doesn’t wake up his Dad. “What’s up?”

“I, um, I can’t sleep.” Jeremy leans against his headboard and glances out the window.

There’s a moment of silence, like his Papa is hesitating before asking, “Do you think you’re going to have another manic episode?”

Jeremy isn’t offended by the question, even though he would have been a year ago. That’s probably why his Papa is still a bit hesitant to ask these kinds of questions. Jeremy used to be terrible to his parents in an effort to push them away, because it was easier to hide that he wasn’t taking his medication when he was living in Arizona and able to deny skype calls.

“No, Papa.” Jeremy reassures him. “I…” His voice gets caught in his throat, because he knows what he wants to say, just not how to say it. It’s so hard, because he isn’t willing to be honest. His psychiatrist always tells him that’s one of his biggest problems, so Jeremy tries to force the words out of his mouth. “I don’t want to be here. I screwed up. I want to play in the NHL, Papa. I want to be good for something. I want to make you and Dad proud, like Aria.”

“Jeremy,” His Papa sounds stern, but there’s no malice behind it. Jack Zimmermann just desperately wants his son to believe him. “You know I don’t care if you play hockey or not. That’s not what makes me proud. You’ve come so far and improved so much in only a year. Do you know how remarkable that is? That’s what I’m proud of. I know how you feel right now, and I know you’re thinking you lost something that held the key to your happiness. But Individual happiness doesn’t come from people or things.”

"Then why was I happy before? Papa, I’m miserable. I lost so much.” Jeremy is on the verge of tears, either because of his quickly approaching anxiety attack, or the fact it’s two in the morning. Probably both.

“But mon coeur, you weren’t happy before.” His Papa says softly. “Hockey isn’t everything, and I’m sorry you grew up thinking that’s what you needed to do to make me happy. I never wanted that.”

“It’s not your fault. Stop blaming yourself for things you have no control over.” Jeremy sounds a bit angry in his own ears, so he makes a mental note to dial it down a bit. People are still sleeping, and he’s learned to not take his frustration out on other people like he used to.

His Papa doesn’t get offended, though. In fact, there’s a low chuckle on the other side of the line that makes Jeremey feel extremely homesick. “You sound like your Dad.”

“When will it get better?” Jeremy asks instead.

There’s a sigh before his Papa says softly, “It’s different for everyone, Jeremy. You can’t put a date on these things.”

“I know, I know.” Jeremy suddenly doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, so he shifts the conversation in a new direction. “How’s Dad, anyway? I know he’s working on another cook book.”

His Papa can never help boasting about his husband. Even to his children, Papa won’t hesitate to go on a five minute rant on how amazing and talented Jeremy’s Dad is.

Jeremy’s dynamic with his Dad is in no way a cold relationship, but sometimes it’s  harder to call his Dad to ask for advice or comfort. He always used his Papa for that, because his Dad scared him in the sense if Jeremy said anything stupid, Eric Zimmermann wouldn’t love him anymore. He knows it isn’t possible by any means, but it’s a deep rooted fear that started when he was younger, and now it’s just a part of who he is.

Jack Zimmermann was by no means absent in Jeremy’s life either, but hockey season is always hard on families. Especially when Jeremy’s Papa would be on a roadie, and his Dad would have to handle abnormal tantrums and the quickly shifting moods of Jeremy. He was so young that he didn’t understand why he felt so miserable, and even when he was diagnosed with severe anxiety at a young age, it still did nothing for him, so he took it out on his Dad. Eric sometimes became frustrated with his son, but he never lashed out or raised his voice. It was always that underlying tone of genuine hurt when Jeremy would say things like “I hate you” and “I wish you weren’t my Dad” that Jeremy remembers the most.

So as Jeremy got older and more aware, it was harder for him to lean on his Dad for support, because he was afraid to do it. It was always the fear that if he lashed out one more time, that would be it, the final straw, before his Dad stopped loving him.

It wasn’t fair to make such an assumption on his Dad’s behalf, but if he could turn it off on command he would have done that already. Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works.

His Papa finished updating him on his Dad’s life, and Jeremy waits a few seconds, but not because he’s unsure what to say. “Papa, I love you.” and he still doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to express himself, so he just accepts it.

“I love you too, Jeremy. Get some sleep.”

And eventually, he does.

***

“Our first game is tomorrow.” Keurig glares at the freshman who are doubled over, trying to catch their breath. Keurig made everyone go through intensive suicides at the end of practice. Jeremy hadn’t felt this tired since the training camps, the summer before he played in his first NHL game. “Jay over there,” Keurig points to him, but keeps his eyes on the freshman. “Is the only one with an excuse. He missed solid weeks of training. The rest of you have been doing this you got here, and some of you- you know who you are- don’t seem to care, which pisses me off.”

“It’s the first game, man.” One of the freshman, Kevin, shakes his head and glances at his suffering friends. He’s also the only one who seemed to be fine. “It’s not like we didn’t work hard to get here.”

What Jeremy has learned the past week, is that Keurig doesn’t play around when it comes to hockey. He’s the kind of guy who takes commitments very seriously. It’s why he studies until he’s passed out from exhaustion, or why he pushes people right to the edge during practice. Rusty told him Keurig is, “Is 100% always 110%.”

Still, their team dynamic is much different than it is at the Haus. For example, Rusty and Keurig are always together, and Jeremy doesn’t want to intrude on the intense bromance, so he just hangs out in the kitchen. It’s surprising how much he gets to witness and hear what stories are told in there. Even the freshman who stop by don’t seem to have a problem with anyone. They grab food Seltzer stressed cooked or cookies Weezer stressed baked. Caleb, a tall Asian boy who is most likely Jeremy’s new D-partner, spends almost all his free time at the Haus, so it’s easy for Jeremy to become friendly with him. He mostly just talks about odd conspiracy theories, but Jeremy didn’t really mind. Apparently, Caleb has a YouTube channel dedicated to his theories and likes to take input from other members of the Haus.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Keurig snaps just a little bit, and everyone goes uncomfortably quiet. “I’m just saying a lot of you think since you’ve made it to Samwell you’re set for hockey-career life. That’s not true. So either skate faster or leave, because college hockey is much different than high school.”

Keurig leaves the ice first with Arrow and Weezer, while the rest of the team lurk behind him. Jeremy skates up to Rusty, who’s staring off at his friend with a concerned expression.

“Is he okay?” Jeremy asks.

Rusty scratches the back of his neck and slowly turns his attention to Jeremy. “He gets intense at the start of the season, but it’s never been this bad. I think it’s the LSATS that are stressing him.”

“I mean, a lot of people get stressed out at the beginning of a season.” Jeremy offers. “It’s hard because these kids are new and they aren’t meeting up to his expectations, so he’s probably just frustrated. Right before my first NHL season, I uh,” had severe depression and anxiety “-flaked, I guess, so the coaches were pissed at me because they thought I was slacking. They were mad because they didn’t get what they paid for.”

Rusty gives Jeremy a small smile, which tells him he helped the situation a little. “I feel like no one acknowledges that you were actually in the National Hockey League. You have legit experience.”

“I guess, yeah. I mean, I was only in it for a year and a half.” Jeremy laughs nervously, but Rusty doesn’t seem to notice. This conversation was moving into dangerous territory. “I kind of like that no one pays attention to my NHL career. It makes things… easier. Like I can start over.”

Rusty’s small smile turns into a large grin before slapping the pads on Jeremy’s shoulders. “Alright, man. Rest up. I’ll see you around.” Rusty says before weaving his way out of the bleachers.

Jeremy skates to the middle of the ice and revels in the fact he’s all alone. The facilities at Samwell are actually very nice, and Jeremy realizes in that moment he could be in worse places than here. Like dead, for example. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Both his parents recommended Annie’s, so Jeremy made it a point to go there today after practice. Rusty took a stressed and angry Keurig to “transcend” so he would be less of a “diva” and assured Jeremy that Keurig usually didn’t act like this. Apparently, his sudden shift in behavior has never happened in SMH history. Well, not this intense anyway.

Jeremy has always liked writing essays, because it’s an outlet for all his nervous energy. Sometimes he’d like to think he would have gotten into journalism if hockey wasn’t such a huge part of his life.

By the time he’s finished with his coffee and has his introduction finished, someone slides into the chair across from him. Jeremy looks up, a bit startled.

The boy looked oddly familiar with his undercut brown hair and olive skin tone. It was cold in New England this time of year, so Jeremy looked at the boy’s jacket for an emblem that could give any indication of who he is.

However, it was just a red sweater with Samwell in large letters across the chest. Pretty standard.

“You’re in my European history class.” The boy states, his face looking determined.

“Yeah…” Jeremy trails off. “Do you need help with something?”

“I’m so glad you asked.” The boy says, resting his head in his hands. “I’m Ethan Bourgeois, the one and only, possibly the coolest freshman at this school and the only latino on the lax team so they look diverse and inclusive.”

Is he making fun of his own team? “That’s quite the introduction.” Jeremy says tightly.

The boy ignores him and says, “I need a huge favor.”

Jeremy waits for Ethan Bour-whatever to ask himself instead of initiating the question.

Ethan clears his throat and adds, “You seem pretty smart since you’re always answering Professor Colin’s obscure questions.”

“Thanks.” Jeremy says flatly, his tone conveying he is not amused. This guy seems like kind of an ass, and Jeremy was in the zone before Ethan disrupted his focus. It’ll take forever to get himself back into that type of headspace.

“I will pay you mad cash to write that research paper for me.” Ethan searches Jeremy’s face for any giveaway on his emotions, but Jeremy remains blank. Internally, his anxiety spikes because he doesn’t know this kid and disappointing people always rubs Jeremy the wrong way. He absolutely hates unfamiliar situations. He doesn’t think anyone has ever asked him to cheat before.

“I don’t think so.” Jeremy eventually responds once he has a handle on himself. “I’m flattered you’d ask me to cheat for you.” He says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. This is usually how he covers his internal crises up; being an asshole.

Ethan deflates, his initial confidence disappearing. “Please? I’m so desperate. Everyone else in the class looks mean and unwilling–”

“So you’re saying I look like the poor sucker that needs cash.” Jeremy closes his laptop with a sigh before neatly placing his things back in his backpack. No way is his focus coming back anytime soon.

“Hold on, that came out wrong. I just meant you looked nice.” Ethan, to Jeremy’s horrified surprised, actually follows him out the door of Annie’s. Stop panicking, dammit.

“I don’t have any other option.” The boy pleads.

“I have an option for you.” Jeremy stops walking to look Ethan in the eye. “How about you take notes and pay attention? Better yet, actually do the work on your own.”

Jeremy turns to go on his merry way, hoping Ethan The Ass will get the hint, but instead he runs ahead to put himself in front of Jeremy’s path. “I physically can’t. Like, I know what I want to say I just can’t put it on to paper. My older brother is so self absorbed that he won’t help. He didn’t even let me into his stupid frat. Straight out denied me. Usually my mom would do it–”

“You’re kidding.” Jeremy laughs at the guy, but it dies out slowly when he sees Ethan’s face. He looked dejected and terrified. “Why the hell do you want my help so much? It’s not that hard of a paper, and it’s the first of many. Maybe you shouldn’t be in this class if you hate writing so much.”

“It’s not that.” Ethan rubs a hand over his face. “Listen, I just need more time to figure things out.”

“It’s due at the end of the month.” A gust of wind chills Jeremy to the point of being uncomfortable. “You have plenty of time.”

Ethan’s shoulders sag with disappointment, and he opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but ultimately decides against it. He moves out of Jeremy’s way before saying, “Okay, sure, I’ll try I guess. Sorry for harassing you.”

Jeremy raises his eyebrows in response before walking back to the Haus without any further interruption from Ethan. Jeremy has been here for basically a week, and so far he has had three strange interactions. What that could possibly mean? Samwell is fucking odd and looking more like a place he will never get used to.

***

Jeremy always hated when his teammates from the Coyotes would call him Zimms Jr. He loved being a Zimmermann, because people would see him like the prodigy he wasn’t. Since he is a Zimmermann, that somehow made him better than everyone else; in his mind at least. He was a Zimmermann, so he could do no wrong when it came to hockey. So why, in the past, did Jeremy hate being called Zimms Jr.?

The Zimmermann name was a crutch he relied on heavily, and it was a crutch Jeremy didn’t realize he hated.

Yes, he loved being a Zimmermann, but not for the hockey. It isn’t until now, as he’s being slammed into the boards and getting the wind knocked out of him, that he realizes that.

Jeremy falls to his knees and the Princeton fans’ cheers fill the arena. No whistle is blown, because he’s not injured and it was a legal check. In fact, he’s endured worse in the NHL. So he pulls himself up and makes the line change. He’s surprised he even got to play tonight, even if it was just for a couple minutes.

“Nice job!” Keurig smiles, shaking his shoulder. “Not bad for someone who’s only had a week of practice.”

No one here cares about his past career. There were some chirps thrown at him out on the ice by the opposing team regarding his former position on the Arizona Coyotes, but they weren’t offensive or insensitive. They were no different than what his other teammates were receiving. It was all in good fun, and Jeremy finds himself regretting the fact he missed this part of the game.

Jeremy went into his first game prepared for the worst, because it’s been nearly a year since he’s last played a hockey game, but in reality it felt shockingly normal. Jeremy wasn’t bitter he was playing college hockey, like he expected himself to be. Actually, it felt… nice. Somehow, his five minutes on the ice felt more fulfilling than the twenty-five he would be playing in the NHL. Why? Because he didn’t have a crutch, this was all him. He managed to separate himself from the Zimmermann legacy, so maybe his teammates will separate Jeremy from his mental illness if he eventually tells him. It’s nice to know he could possibly have a team to lean on in the future.

Keurig ends up scoring the winning goal and the entire team is ecstatic. Their celly made Jeremy so genuinely happy it was almost emotional overload. They won their first game of the season against Princeton, and for once since getting here, Jeremy didn’t ignore the warm feeling in his stomach, because he could admit he was happy in this moment.

***

It was Jeremy’s first Epikegster, so he didn’t want to miss it. However, he was also fully aware of the alcohol flooding the room. He’s never supposed to drink again– him being an alcoholic and all– so it’s awkward when all the other rookies are doing their first kegstand while everyone else cheers in delight. No one offers it to him, but the fact that they still could sparks his anxiety. So he fills his red plastic cup with coke and retreats to the kitchen to hide.

The public knows he’s an alcoholic, but that’s it. The public doesn’t know he has bipolar disorder, but not because he’s ashamed. Simply because it’s none of their damn business. Also, because he knows the headline would be “Jeremy Zimmermann is Bipolar” instead of “Jeremy Zimmermann has Bipolar disorder.” It’s a difference not a lot of people understand matter to Jeremy. He’s still a person, not a walking talking mental illness.

He snaps a quick picture of the living room packed with people, and sends it to his Uncle Shitty. The boys still think he’s joking around when he mentions he has an uncle named Shitty, but Jeremy thinks that’s even more funny. It’s like he has an inside joke with himself.

“Hey! It’s the hottie from the coffee shop.”

Jeremy whips around, since the voice came from behind him. That moment in itself gave him a sense of deja vu.

Ethan was grinning as he made his way over to Jeremy. “You didn’t seem like much of a party person when I last spoke to you.”

“Yeah, I forgot my red solo cup at home. Usually I bring that thing everywhere with me.” Jeremy chirps Ethan, making sure he doesn’t sound annoyed. He’s in too good of a mood to be mad at the guy anymore. He probably had things going on Jeremy didn’t know about.

Ethan laughs and hops up on the counter across from him. He still looks painfully familiar.

“Did we meet somewhere before the coffee shop?” Jeremy couldn’t help but ask.

Ethan raises an eyebrow, and his smile curls up into a flirtatious smirk. Interesting. “Are you flirting with me–” He pauses, a frown taking over his chiseled face. “Fuck, I didn’t even ask for your name. I’m such a dick; that’s so a thing my brother would do.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh, because yeah, on top of asking a stranger to write your paper, not asking for that stranger’s name is also a douche move.

“I’m Jeremy.” Is the only thing he offers, just in case Zimmermann might give anything away. If this guy didn’t know who he was in the first place, then it is more likely than not he has no idea who Jack Zimmermann is.

“Good to know.” Ethan leans back on his hands, making the muscles on his forearms look especially nice.

Jeremy isn’t an idiot, he knows what’s going on here, because this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Jeremy has been with both guys and girls, because he frankly doesn’t care about gender when it comes to sex or romantic relationships. It’s not like he’s in the closet, either. Once, he brought his boyfriend from high school to a family reunion in Georgia. That wasn’t the most wise decision, because one of his relatives made an offhand comment of, “It must run in the family” that made Jeremy so angry he hid in a bathroom and cried for an hour.

When he got to the NHL, he just didn’t have the energy to be in a relationship other than quickies in a bar bathroom. Ever since his Papa and Kent Parson came out and opened that door, the presser didn’t treat being a part of the LGBT+ community as such a “scandal” anymore. The league is still a long ways away from being entirely inclusive, but it sure isn’t as bad as it used to be. From what his parents told him, anyway.

And the truth is, Jeremy hasn’t been with anyone since the car accident. So he thinks it’s perfectly normal for him to be just slightly turned on by the man in front of him. Well, more than slightly.

After searching Jeremy’s face for any indication he would reject Ethan, he seems to get what he’s looking for, because he hops off the counter and crowds himself into Jeremy’s personal space.

“You’ve ever been with a guy before?” Ethan asks, sliding a hand up Jeremy’s bicep.

“Yup.” Is all he offers.

“Cool. I haven’t.” Ethan says nonchalantly like he’s talking about the weather before pressing his lips to Jeremy’s.

It’s extremely hesitant at first, which gives away that Ethan is a little nervous. Jeremy doesn’t rush or force anything, but when he slides his tongue along Ethan’s bottom lip as if asking for permission, Ethan pulls away.

Jeremy thinks something might be wrong, but Ethan just says “-really fucking pissed it took me this long to realize I’m gay. I blame my bigoted family.”

“Um–” Jeremy frowns but he’s instantly shut down.

“Shut up.” Ethan mutters before leaning in for another kiss. They are about the same height, so it’s easy for them to adjust themselves. Ethan surprisingly slips his tongue into Jeremy’s mouth first, and it’s such a hungry kiss Jeremy isn’t surprised he himself is intensely turned on already. When he positions his leg in between Ethan’s thighs, he feels that Ethan is pretty much on the same boat.

Ethan grinds down to get the friction his body needs, and the low moan of pleasure makes Jeremy even more turned on.

Jeremy misses the feeling of being this close to another person. He misses when someone would hold on to him for dear life, when he made someone moan or beg for more, or when someone raked their fingernails down his bare back. It made Jeremy feel useful in the best way possible. He was able to give something to someone else, and he was able to get something just as great in return.

Jeremy really didn’t want to be caught busting his load in the fucking kitchen, so he retreats from the making out to ask Ethan if he wants to go upstairs.

“Fuck yeah.” Ethan replies with enthusiasm, so the two boys race each other up the stairs. Ethan is a little playful with it, too. He grabs Jeremy’s shirt and jerks him back to get the upperhand, but suddenly stops when he realizes he has no idea where he’s going.

Once they get into his room, Jeremy locks the door behind him and turns around to see Ethan studying Jeremy’s room. “Wait– this is your room? You live here?”

Jeremy blinks, still in his lustful haze. “I mean, yeah… I thought that was implied.”

“You’re a hockey player.” Ethan states, looking like he’s battling something internally. “Your last name is Zimmermann, isn’t it? Didn’t you attack the lacrosse team with a fire extinguisher?”

Jeremy didn’t see how any of this is relevant, but he also didn’t want to force Ethan to do anything he didn’t want to do just in case Ethan is stalling right now. Didn’t Ethan mention he was a lacrosse player?

“Yeah. They stole my Dad’s recipes and planned on burning them.” Jeremy defends himself, because he senses Ethan’s judgemental tone. He leans against his door, crossing his arms to portray a stance of “what are you gonna do about it?”

“Hmm.” Ethan just looks thoughtful now, absently glancing at the picture of Jeremy and his family on the nightstand. “Your Dad was the first out player in the NHL, right?”

“My Papa, yeah.” Jeremy’s voice sounds extremely strained, mostly because he’s waiting for Ethan to say something offensive.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Ethan frowns, instantly recognizing Jeremy’s protective tone. “That’s pretty fucking cool. My Step Dad is a dick, so.” He clears his throat, glancing everywhere around the room but Jeremy. “Do you know who my brother is?”

“No?”

Ethan glances back at Jeremy and raises an eyebrow. “My brother is Todd– well technically he’s my half brother. Pretty funny story actually. My dear mother cheated on my Step Dad with their marriage councilor. Ha!”

Jeremy didn’t exactly find that to be a funny story, so he doesn’t even force himself to laugh.

Ethan continues like he didn’t say anything important. “My brother literally has a bounty on your head.”

Now Jeremy knows why Ethan looked so familiar to him. He has the same jawline and the same eyes as Todd, possibly just an inch shorter in height.

“A bounty?” Jeremy chuckles, extremely amused on how ridiculous this whole feud is. “Did you come here to kill me?”

When Ethan laughs this time, it’s a different sound. Jeremy realizes that it’s more of a genuine laugh, rather than the fake one he used a few moments prior. “Did I completely ruin the mood?” Ethan gives him an amused smile. “To be honest, I really don’t fucking care you’re a hockey player. Actually, it’s kind of hot. We’re like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They die in the end.” Jeremy can’t help but mention.

Ethan snorts and rolls his eyes. “In the name of love, Jeremy. There is a difference.”

“Won’t you be blacklisted for making out with me?” Jeremy sarcastically gives him a deadpan expression.

“Won’t you be blacklisted for making out with me?” Ethan challenges. “The hockey team hates the lacrosse team just the same.”

Ethan jumps up to his feet to close the space between them, but stops short so they are not quite touching. He grabs the hemline of his shirt before pulling it over his head, revealing a very sexy torso. Yes please. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” Ethan sings, and Jeremy leans forward to place his lips on Ethan’s neck. His hand snakes around to his bare lower back, pulling him in closer. He begins sucking on the underside of Ethan’s jaw.

“Fuck.” Ethan breathes out softly, his chest rising and falling quickly as he pants.

They stumble to Jeremy’s bed, and Jeremy pulls off his t-shirt in the process. Ethan’s gaze eats him up hungrily before Jeremy is hovering over him, then moves to trailing kisses down Ethan’s stomach.

“Not to ruin the mood, but…” Jeremy trails off, giving Ethan a pointed look. It shouldn’t ruin the mood, because he was just being safe–

Ethan isn’t fazed when he responds, “I have a condom in my back pocket like a horny college student, thank you very much. Feel free to do a little extra searching while you’re at it.” A slow grin spreads across Ethan’s face and he winks, the earlier cockiness of personality coming back.

It’s been awhile since Jeremy has given a blowjob, or has had any sexual encounters, but Ethan doesn’t seem to have any complaints. Jeremy sucks him off and Ethan jerks Jeremy off, so overall it was pretty pleasant. 

Jeremy expected Ethan to escape as soon as this was finished since his brother was the captain of the lacrosse team, but he just lies beside Jeremy, staring up at the ceiling. Jeremy doesn’t mind the company, he’s missed the feeling of sleeping next to a warm body.

“So like, high key, best blowjob I’ve ever received.” Ethan says after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Thanks.” Jeremy laughs a little, but he doesn’t turn to look at him.

“I have a confession. I was harcore thirsting after you in our history class. You’re fucking distracting with your stupid Henlys jesus christ.”

Jeremy tilts his head towards Ethan and raises an eyebrow when Ethan gives him a smirk. Jeremy asks, “Is that why you wanted me to write your paper so bad?”

Jeremy must have said the wrong thing, because Ethan’s smirk disappears and his cheeks redden with embarrassment as he glances away. “No. I thought it would be a plus since you were hot, but I didn’t ask you because I wanted to get in your pants.”

Ethan doesn’t elaborate, but Jeremy still waits for it. He wants to know why Ethan was so against writing a simple research paper on his own. All they had to do was watch two movies relating to something monumental in European history, and write a paper on how accurate it was and how inaccurate. It was actually kind of fun, in Jeremy’s opinion. “Why?” Jeremy decides to make it simple, instead of saying all of those thoughts to Ethan.

“I’m dyslexic.” Ethan still doesn’t look at him, because his cheeks are still red with embarrassment. “My parents never really got me help, they kind of just did stuff for me. I mean I’m pretty loaded, I’m not gonna lie, so they probably just assume I’ll live off my trust fund or whatever. My brother is the real deal, you know?” Ethan sighs, finally turning to face Jeremy. “My dad the marriage counselor wanted nothing to do with me. I mean, makes sense. Imagine how much business he would lose if that got out.”

Ethan seems to be doing that thing again where he turns something that makes him uncomfortable into a joke. Jeremy is no psychoanalyst, but he recognizes it as something he used to do.

“They tried to pass me off as their kid but, uh-” Ethan laughs, but it comes out a little too sharp. “-people start questioning things when your half latino and your “dad” is some big shot white guy. So I’m just kind of there. I’m meant to be seen not heard.” Ethan pauses before adding, “You’re welcome. You’ve heard my sob story.”

Jeremy frowns and decided to address the earlier issue in that whole story. “Being dyslexic is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Yeah, whatever. You sound like my brother.” Ethan mutters before rolling over onto his side, studying Jeremy with a calculated expression. “I don’t really follow hockey, like at all, so what’s your deal? I know who your Dads are, because who doesn’t? But aren’t you a descendant of hockey God Bad Bob Zimmermann?”

Jeremy sighs, but he finds it easier talking to someone he barely knows than he does talking with his psychiatrist. That’s probably the same reason why Ethan told him his whole backstory. Sometimes it was nice to talk about yourself to someone who didn’t hold any bias.

“I got really fucking wasted and crashed my fancy sports car.” His tone is dripping with bitterness, so much so Ethan actually takes a few moments to respond.

“Are you… Okay?” Ethan offers, and Jeremy can tell he’s trying really hard to find the right words.

“Nope.” Jeremy says without hesitation. “And I never will be. Subject change, please.”

“Actually, I’m about ready to pass out.” Ethan goes to sit up, but Jeremy stops him against his better judgement.

“You can stay if you want, but if you don’t want people to know, you should leave in a few hours.”

“So romantic.” Ethan huffs out with a small laugh. “Who knew you were such a sweet talker?” But he slides back under the covers anyway, and rolls over towards Jeremy to invade his personal space again. “I’m a cuddler, Zimmermann.”

“Goodie.” Jeremy’s eyes slip closed and he falls asleep soundlessly.

When he wakes up in the morning, his bed is empty and his room smells faintly of axe body spray. Fucking lacrosse players, Jeremy thinks to himself with a fond smile on his face.

******************

Okay y’all I really hope that was worth the wait and I exceeded your expectations

There will be more about the actual team next time bc it’s parents weekend (get rekt) but I gotta set things up with good ol’ Ethan

This will also be under the tag of #jeremyzimmermann so it’s easier to find the updates 

[unfair-sports]

The OSG Report Week 2

Special shoutout to the OSG!

Philly -3 at Tampa (44) Tampa’s defense is not very good. They beat New Orleans mainly on offense and The Saints lack of defense. The Eagles offense should certainly feast. Nelson Agholor is a fine mid range play thought not a must play. Ajayi will come recommended purely on strength or lack there of from Tampa’s defense. But since joining Philly the volume isn’t there. I do have interest in the Philly defense✅ as well. I’m backing on Fitzpatrick and the offense to regress heavily especially if Desean Jackson is out. I do not believe Fitzpatrick will have the same success this week vs a stingy defense. However I believe he is a better QB than advertised and certainly better than Winston who is not a guaranteed lock to start after the suspension. For this reason you can take a shot in tournaments on Fitz. He has never had a WR like Mike Evans and Deshaun Jackson who is in the concussion protocol. So for a leverage play vs a defense that may gain traction I have no problem with a Fitz-Evans stack. Chiefs at -4.5 Steelers (53) KC Chiefs did certainly look good in week 1 and was on the positive side of the matchup with the Chargers. A first year QB on the road is never a recommendation of mine. Not that Pittsburgh’s defense is stellar. But he will certainly throw the ball down field. ✅You can certainly take some shots on Tyreek Hill✅as he and Mahomes seem to have a good connection going. Kareem Hunt and Hill are the best guesses as Mahomes and Kelce have yet to connect and TEs vs Pittsburgh has never been the best target from a fantasy perspective. Pittsburgh is going to be a popular stack and for reason. ✅ Conner did not disappoint. This is what they do. Whether Bell, DeAngelo Williams, or James Conner, they run their offense. And KC is going to be a defense we pick on all season. Hence the 53 over. This will be a pattern until further notice. Ben at home. Conner. And based on WR/CB rankings Antonio Brown has the best matchup on the board this week at home. Please do yourself a favor and fire up this stack ✅✅. If you do make multiple lineups do not be afraid to pivot To JuJu Smith-Schuster ✅as the entire secondary for KC is bad. Indy at Washington-5.5 (46) Andrew Luck returned and was thrown right back into “carry the team” mode. While Eric Ebron did catch the TD, Jack Doyle did receive an almost team high 10 targets and is the go to guy. Hilton saw 11 targets and only converted 5 and one score. Washington will try to slow the game down a bit and now you take a dome team on the road. I don’t have much interest here. However Jack Doyle ✅should be in your player pool this week and every week moving forward. Despite the market share and production his price NEVER increases. Fire him up. On the other side, Jordan Reed✅ will also be the play here against one of the worst defenses in the NFL. Alex Smith of course mainly threw to his backs in Chris Thompson and Reed. But the outside WR core is very mediocre and carry low price tags however. A decent line and TD catch can pay off. Jamison Crowder is the best candidate. I don’t believe I will chase the GOAT Peterson as we saw his ceiling and now his price increased. However Washington could ride him to keep the place down. But my exposure will be limited to Reed and maybe ✅Thompson being a WR in a RB spot. Small chance of a TD reception. And a running TD. If you can guess the positive side of Washington and it’s receiving core this is a low owned value stack to target✅. I also have interest in the Washington defense this week. ✅ Carolina at -5 Atlanta (44) Back to the Panthers. Back to Cam. I never get him right. Play him bust. Fade him, success. He gets a matchup in a dome without his starting TE. I do believe we go back to him and McCaffrey stack ✅and ride it out. If there is one thing in DFS is if you get the same team in a decent matchup play it again after it fails. The Falcons LB Deion Jones hit the IR so covering C-Mac will now be a challenge. He was decent last week but will be better this week in the dome. Funchess will have a tough WR/CB matchup and is always in play to catch a random TD from Newton but we will have better options in this price range. On the other side. Julio. Julio. Julio. ✅✅Did we know that he has busted this team for 300 yards. I usually avoid division rivals but Julio’s track record vs Carolina cannot be avoided. And after 19 targets Atlanta’s bum O coordinator may have finally gotten the memo. Just feed him. He is an excellent pivot off of what will be a heavily owned Antonio Brown. But if you want to be heavy on the field PLAY THEM BOTH✅✅. You may not need to stack him with Matt Ryan but if Julio goes for 300 yards Ryan could throw for 400. Also look to Tevin Coleman✅ if D. Freeman is ruled out. Almost a must play with his value price if this is the scenario. He averages 19 touches a game with Freeman out of the lineup. LA Chargers-7.5 vs Buffalo Bills (43) Phillip Rivers was very impressive week 1 and gets an even better matchup. Everything on paper says play the ✅Rivers-Allen stack again, and please pay Melvin Gordon ✅. This is a very bad Bills team and will be a target as long as Buffalo is not at home (which they are this week) and the weather is bad (which it isn’t this week). The only thing the matchup will not tell you is that this is a West coast team traveling east for a 1PM eastern start. Beyond that this is one of the best matchups on the board for an offense. Do not play anything from the Buffalo Bills. Houston -2 @ Tennessee If you were as crazy as me to play Watson and Hopkins vs New England then you may as well okay him here as well. Hopkins represents the 6th best WR/CB matchup and for the price it’s hard to target Hopkins as oppose to the others. Which does mean he will get lower ownership. I’m not sure when I’ll get excited to play the Tennessee Titans. They have to play Indy (which they will do twice) before I personally will consider the Titans. Corey Davis ✅can be considered as a cheap WR option to fit in the big name and big prices of some studs this week. Miami at NY Jets-3 (44) Quincy Enunwa can be added to your player pool. Everything else on both offenses can be a wait and see approach until further notice. Cleveland at New Orleans -8.5 (50) Back to finally good stuff. Jarvis Landry was a target monster last week as expected. The weather slowed this team down. But they are playing in the best environment on the board. It is a road game and I was high on Tyrod Taylor. While he did not smash he did do well/decent. At his price range and the dome Tyrod Taylor✅is an excellent play Sunday. Landry ✅is viable in a stack with him and so is Josh Gordon✅who is expected to see a larger snap count. Carlos Hyde got most early work, and Duke Johnson got the pass and third down work. Either back is risky, and I understand it, but there is a little better clear cut value elsewhere. On the other side of the game if you do believe the Browns will not show up, or is forced into any amount of turnovers, the Saints defense could be a viable tournament play. But offensively this will be a place to target. Brees to Michael Thomas once again ✅and despite it being on “limited” touches for a RB Alvin Kamara ✅✅is always a must play in the dome. Though he is not a ground and pound back they work him into the offense to get maximum efficiency out of those touches. And the Browns will not stop him here. Arizona at LA Rams -13. (46) The Cardinals are road dogs by 13. Pass  Anytime a team at home are heavy favorites, you start with the defense and the RB in Todd Gurley✅✅ and stack him with the Rams defense ✅✅. Gurley is an excellent tournament play because so many players (including me) will try to pair Conner and Kamara like last week. Detroit at SF -5.5 (47.5) Here is one of the higher totals for an under 50 game that is possible to go over 50. SF struggled to hold the slot last week and Stafford ✅alone without the stack is viable in tournaments. But stacking I would take shots on all 3. Golladay, Tate And Marvin Jones. ✅ Jimmy G ✅is back in play as he had a tough matchup vs a good secondary. This is not the case this week. He can paired with Kittle at TE✅ but I’m still not sure which WR will emerge as his favorite. I was willing to take a chance on Goodwin✅in a tough matchup so I’m obligated to repeat that process vs a worst matchup. New England +2 at JAX (45) So many players will want to pay down at TE as there is value which makes ✅✅Gronk once again a great tournament play. He’s priced like a second tier WR and is the best option for the best QB in the league. James White ✅could be in for heavy work if Rex Burkhead is ruled out. These days concussion protocols are rarely cleared after just one week. It is a late start in the afternoon and utilize late swaps ✅✅so it is worth monitoring. I played Chris Hogan as oppose to Dorset last week but I do not typically play WR vs Jacksonville. I will probably stick to Gronk and White but maybe not pay up for Brady this week as it is a tough defense. New England did defeat the Jags in the playoffs but did not steam roll them. Also the New England defense ✅is an excellent play. I will want to see what the New England defense is about before I target them heavily in fantasy. No jags players for me. Oakland at Denver (-6) 45 Three words for Oakland. Play Jared Cook✅. He’s a value TE and is another good spot. Gruden knows matchups.  On the Denver side. Case Keenum✅was last year and is officially playable at his price week in and week out until he faces a tough defense and secondary. Sanders and Thomas ✅are excellent stacks with Keenum as well.

[miss-m-calling]

Chocolate Box 2018 letter

Requesting (fic for all three):

Black Sails (Miranda Barlow/John Silver)

Jack Irish (Simone Bendtsen/Jack Irish)

Starred Up (Oliver Baumer/Eric Love )

Black Sails

Miranda Barlow/John Silver

I recently fell into this canon head-first and found myself with a special fondness for this ship, although they never really interact in canon at all. I definitely see it as an early seasons ship, not just because Miranda was, you know, alive, but because the early Silver was the ever-scheming trickster with a smile and a smart-allecky comment always up his sleeve, ever ready to lie, cheat, steal, and murder to his best advantage, yet already with glimpses of a capacity to care about people other than himself. What I’m saying is, he was fun to have around in a way the later Silver somewhat lost as the price of his character development.

We know Miranda has an eye for a handsome man. I suspect S1-2 Silver totally would bed the captain’s woman if he thought he could get away with it or it could be a way to manipulate Flint, only Miranda is smart and pragmatic, has a core of pure steel, and can see right through Silver, which I’m convinced she would. Unlike Flint, Miranda has done her grieving and she’s so ready to move on and feel alive again. Not saying that Silver would become another great love of hers, but they could have fun. He’d make her laugh. After years of Flint’s moods, Silver would be so easy to get along with. The sex could be great and not angsty or merely dutiful. He’d inevitably find an angle to play, but then Miranda’s no stranger to maneuvering around and with people, so maybe she’d find that his manipulative ways are half the fun. They might even fall in love for real, though that’s not a requirement, and I definitely don’t think love would be the same as absolute trust in this case. (Also I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make the relationship revolve around their shared fixation on Flint, or focus on Miranda’s angst about Thomas or the legacy of Thomas/Flint. These can be mentioned, but I’d prefer that doesn’t hijack the story.)

Prompts:

-Flint sends Silver to Miranda with a message or on an errand, and thinks nothing more of it (or possibly he wants Miranda’s assessment of how much he can trust the “new cook”). But then Silver and Miranda are intrigued by each other and start finding excuses to see each other again. Bonus points if they orchestrate encounters in a way which allows them both to pretend they don’t actually want to see each other again, it just happened, sometimes things just happen but now that they’re both here they might as well take advantage of this opportunity, etc.

-S2 divergence: James dies at Charles Town, and Miranda lives. Silver may or may not lose a leg. Silver and Miranda have to assume at least temporary leadership of the crew in order to get everyone safely back to Nassau. Do they become pirate co-captains or lady captain and her quartermaster? Do they dissolve the crew and try for a different life? Do they make a play for the Urca gold, after Silver confesses his double-dealing to an angry, grieving Miranda (Jack maybe doesn’t capture the gold, it’s still up for grabs, or if Jack does how does that play out)? I mention lower down I’d prefer no angsty sex for these two, but in this scenario I could see any sex that may happen being, at least at first, angry and angsty, but also conducive to emotional healing.

-Actual witch!Miranda. I mean storybook witch, with a cauldron in which she brews that invulnerability potion for Flint and possibly some broom-flying, rather than a Wiccan or another kind of real witch. Maybe she needs a human participant or human-sourced ingredients for some of her most powerful spells, and since Flint isn’t really comfortable with magic Miranda decides that the new ship’s cook will do, only magic has a way of binding people together more closely than they intended. Or maybe she attempts to bind a familiar, hoping for a cat or a bird, and the magic picks Silver, much to her (and his) initial consternation? Maybe Miranda doesn’t really know what she’s doing, she used to dabble in London but hasn’t tried making a spell in years and has none of her books of magic with her, or she’s heard the crew’s rumors about her and decided to give this whole magic thing a go, and oops it actually works! Either way, there would definitely be snark and “if I give you X for a spell, what’s in it for me?”

-Flint respected and cared about Miranda, but also kept her waiting on the sidelines while he did stuff. Gimme Miranda and Silver at a point where they trust each other, maybe not completely, but enough that they can scheme together, where she is impressed by his quick wits but she’ll also tell him when one of his plans is likely to go wrong in XYZ different ways. Then, obviously, they execute a plan/heist by drawing on their combined skill sets.

-Fucking someone is easy. Sleeping the night through next to that person is hard.

-Speaking of which: sex. With or without plot. In the bed, in the kitchen, in Nassau, on The Walrus when the rest of the crew is on shore-leave, or a stolen moment during the journey to Charles Town. First times, later times. Any position is good, I’ll just mention a couple possibilities: Cunnilingus with a side of mind games. Pegging. Fingering (of either by either). Intense (emotionally and physically) PIV. I could see them both initiating sex and wanting to “direct traffic” at one time or another, both wanting to keep up a front but then being ambushed by actual emotion and vulnerability. Let it be happy and giggly, or passionate, or playful, or unexpectedly tender, or seemingly casual and then very emotional and heartfelt – just please don’t let it be angsty.

-Miranda discovers she likes to get her fingers in Silver’s hair during sex, both gently and not. He likes it too, which is not to say he’ll necessarily admit he likes it.

-Sexual role-play: the demure lady abducted by a wicked pirate, only it turns out the lady’s resistance is symbolic at best. Who gets to play the lady and who the pirate is entirely open. If Miranda’s the lady, I suspect early seasons!Silver’s attempts at being menacing and dominating may make her break character for a giggle – and if Miranda’s the pirate menacing the demure and naïve, er, young gentleman, I’ll just say that I think she should wear Silver’s clothes (after washing them or making him bring a spare set).

Two general points: whatever you end up writing, please don’t kill off Miranda or imply she dies “off-screen.” Let her live to fuck Silver another day. Also, I love Flint/Miranda in all their angsty glory, and I love all the intense, complicated emotion of Flint & Silver and the potential of Flint/Silver. I know I said not to make the fic revolve around Flint’s influence on their lives, but I’m fine with Flint in a walk-on role, if you want to write that. I don’t see him making too big a fuss, Miranda definitely treats her brief affair with the pastor as her business and her business alone – I can see Flint being exasperated that Silver hanging around Miranda is now a thing, or suspicious of Silver’s intentions but also trusting Miranda to handle it.

Jack Irish

Simone Bendtsen/Jack Irish

I enjoyed this show a lot: how often and unexpectedly funny it was, how absorbing the mysteries were even when I didn’t buy every plot twist, how the canon treated complicated adult relationships as complicated and adult, how everyone wound up in a better place by the end than they’d been at the start but this didn’t always (or almost ever, really) mean a conventional HEA. I liked the intricate plots and all the Australian details of the setting, but I loved especially the character interactions and the ensemble cast, and these two reminded me of couples from old screwball comedies in how they played off each other.

Jack: dryly funny, tragic backstory but not overburdened with it, bit of a lone wolf but also with a lot of very different, good people in his life, sometimes his own worst enemy, not an alpha male at all and that’s just fine. And Simone, oh I loved Simone: smart, snarky, motor-mouthed, independent but also wanting to be taken care of a bit, somewhat socially awkward, hypercompetent, self-deprecating. I started shipping them right at the start (the “do you always talk this fast?” “do you always listen this slow?” exchange), loved how they keep needling and bantering easily, how during the time skip between seasons they become super close and rely on each other as both coworkers and friends. I have different degrees of tolerance for their canon relationships, so feel free to ignore or handwave those, and anyway: Jack knows Simone well enough to buy her a vintage Han Solo figurine in original packaging as a wedding present – and then promptly gets mistaken for her new husband!

Prompts:

-Casefic! Between Simone’s investigative skills and Jack’s willingness to get beaten up a lot and his sorta action skills, there’s nothing they can’t solve.

-Jack brings Simone along on a stakeout or a road-trip to run down money Harry’s owed. There’s banter. Lots of banter. And possibly falling asleep in the car.

-Simone gets to interact with Cam and Harry, or with the old codgers at Jack’s local. Whether she and Jack are together or not, everyone can see it.

-Show me them growing close during the time between seasons: how they went from him calling her always “Miss Bendtsen” and teasing her about her dating profile handle to her wanting him at her wedding.

-Canon divergence: Jack goes to Manila to investigate the Holman-Dang Bank and brings Simone along, or calls/Skypes her for snarky consultations and finally asks her to fly out and help him. Danger, thrills, bringing down an international crime syndicate, and possibly sex ensue. Bonus points if they work together with Marek/Orton, he of the dry wit and the extensive local knowledge. Or Jack and Simone take part in some handwavy local ritual and wake up married.

-Takeout and movie night. There is banter, of course. All the banter. And probably some whiskey too.

-Instead of the council forcing Jack to move his horse out of his yard, he enlists Simone in helping him smuggle the horse (to a paddock on Melbourne’s outskirts, or another temporary shelter as ill-suited as Jack’s yard had been) in the middle of the night. If one or both of them end up riding the horse, all the better.

-Their first time. Especially if it’s a little awkward, and a little funny, and maybe they had a few drinks to psyche themselves up, and maybe they’re still figuring out whether they’re better as friends or they have real potential as a couple – and it ends up being enjoyable despite their hang-ups and insecurities.

Starred Up

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

I liked what the movie did with the father-son relationship and its influence on both men’s character development – but I really wish they hadn’t got Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). The final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management group and has a support network that will help him a lot, but I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric and Oliver - the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible, young thug and the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence, slightly older counselor. I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line (it was hinted that Eric will be serving a very long sentence).

Prompts:

-More scenes from anger management or the free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present (because I loved their group dynamics, their training in anger management techniques, and their ribald, un-PC, yet constructive talk) or in a one-on-one session between Oliver and Eric.

-An oblique or open-but-undramatic admission of love/investment/affection/desire, or just a declaration that they both know there’s something there but they probably don’t want to name it, get into the details, and it’s too frustrating given their circumstances, but they both know and accept it’s there - well, I would love that.

-Dirty talk: used for arousal, as a defense mechanism, as a form of flirtation. Eric using slurs to assert dominance, and Oliver not letting him hide behind foul language, when he can use other kinds of colorful language to express actual emotion and sexual interest. There could definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity.

-An emergency in the prison requires a lock-down, so Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Sex ensues. It could be a few months after the movie, or it could be after Eric has had some time to become a fully mature adult. Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself.

-Eric is eventually (handwave it so he gets early parole or make it happen years and years down the line) released and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts to the outside world, and there’s awkwardness, probably some male chest-thumping, and eventually fucking. The sex could be pretty rough or go-for-it-no-frills, yet enthusiastic and eager and unexpectedly tender (even if either or both don’t want to admit it).

-A progression/escalation of sexual contact over a series of encounters, possibly starting with just words or masturbation (of oneself or the other or mutual) or some other form of arousal, to blowjobs and who already knows how to give them and who expects them as a given and who learns how to give them, and ending in full-on screwing. Or any one of these individual moments, really!

-At some point, probably not their first time but when they’re used to each other and have a chance to take their time and have real privacy, Oliver ignores Eric’s come-on-already and goes super slow, to make Eric fall apart with pleasure *and* have an actual emotional reaction to sexual intimacy, which he wouldn’t be able to brush off as just of the moment.

LIKES:

I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and “missing scene from canon” stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.

I love irony, snark, 5+1 stories, long fic and short fic, bittersweet endings, hopeful endings, happy endings, unhappy-but-stoic (in terms of where the characters end up) endings, ambiguous or and-the-adventure-continues endings, canon-fitting humor, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who learn to get over themselves, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved in a believable and IC way, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.

I love workplace stories (this can mean anything from an office/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters are competent and dedicated to the job, and while they may not be exactly friends and they may well irritate one another, they still manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise and sometimes reluctance/discomfort). For friendship and family dynamics, I love to see how the many layers long relationships of this kind can play out: the recrimination, the regrets, the humor, the love.

In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism or a degree of distrust shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), bickering yet loving couples, faithfulness, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping.

I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters – show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). Let me hear their canon voices during the sex, either in POV narration or in dialogue.

Oral, vaginal, anal, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) – it’s all good, go as veiled or as explicit as you like. Things which are all great: kissing, foreplay, seduction, a bit of sexual teasing, daring each other to go further, asking one’s partner to verbalize their desires.

I like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). I also like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, people having to overcome their own inhibitions or insecurity by just bulling through to where they can let themselves enjoy it, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it, I-hate-that-I-want-you-oooh-don’t-stop. Not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. Also situations in which people have been acting competitive or fine-fine-shut-up-already and then jump into the sex with great enthusiasm even if still snarking. Also situations in which people who’ve wanted each other for a long time but couldn’t admit or act on it for reasons – and maybe weren’t sure or wouldn’t let themselves believe the desire was mutual – finally get a chance to do it, and it’s intense and emotional.

DNWs:

Hard kinks, MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, incest, genderswap and genderbent characters, ace/aro/trans/non-binary headcanons, non-con and dub-con, torture and abuse, dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore and come are fine, but no loving detail please), vore, underage, toilet humor, character bashing, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (unless it’s canon – Miranda dying is the exception, in fic she lives!), pregnancy and children as the lynchpin of the story, characters agonizing over/analyzing/dwelling on their or others’ sexuality as if it’s the sum total of their existence, secondary characters acting like shipping the main pair is their be all and end all, teeth-rotting fluff and schmoop, issuefic, fic written in the first or second person, holiday setting or theme, fics which revolve around weddings and birthdays, AUs which have nothing to do with canon (cop characters working in a coffee shop, high-school janitor characters in space, etc.)

[justlookfrightened]

Houston Chronicles, Part 4

A/N: This is a continuation of a fic that began with three prompt fills. You can find the first one here, and the previous installment here. I’ll try to post another short installment every three or four days, and I have a plan for at least ten total installments, alternating POV between Jack and Bitty. I will eventually cross-post to AO3.

When Bitty finally closed the door behind Jack, he blew out a sigh. It was mostly relief to be alone again, to not have to watch his every word.

But he was also breathing out frustration. Some part of him had been hoping Jack would be so overwhelmed at the sight of him that he’d sling Bitty over his shoulder and carry him off to bed. Whether the sex that followed would be fast and desperate or slow and painstaking — Bitty’s fantasies went both ways. Neither had happened.

What had happened was a lot of talk about hockey in general and the Aeros in particular. That had been fine. Fun, even, and interesting. Jack could still evaluate a team and its players with a clear and critical eye, and he brought insights into what the team had and what it could do going forward that Bitty had never heard from anyone else.

He shouldn’t be surprised; he didn’t really know anyone who spent time on the ice or in the Aeros dressing room on a regular basis. Besides catering a few events where a couple of the players turned up, he’d never met any of them at all. Jack, on the other hand — people said the best players rarely made good coaches, because they couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t just play like they did. Jack might be an exception to that. He had been able to capitalize on the strengths of his teammates and help them improve their weak areas since Bitty met him at Samwell.

Whenever the talk had turned to the past, though, it became clear what different worlds Jack and Bitty had been living in. Jack’s was large, and he was at the center of it. Bitty was there, of course, not far from the center, but occupying a much smaller circle. The rest of Jack’s cricle was filled with hockey and conditioning and teammates and hockey and sponsorships and business meetings and hockey.

Bitty had been reminded of evenings spent with Jack’s parents, when Bob and Jack had gone off on long hockey tangents, and Alicia had cleared her throat and said, “Not everyone here plays hockey.”

It was probably easier for someone who was a movie star and model to get away with that. Or someone who never had been a hockey player.

By the time he moved to Providence, Bitty’s hockey career was over, and he didn’t have a career in the entertainment industry or any other to fall back on. His world, eventually, was just Jack: being Jack’s lover, his cook, his housekeeper, his personal assistant. Also Jack’s money. He kind of felt like he had earned everything Jack spent on him those years, given good value for the money even, and then he felt ashamed. Relationships were not business arrangements, and he was certain Jack didn’t think of theirs in those terms.

If he hadn’t known before, Jack’s insistence tonight that the Providence condo had been theirs, not Jack’s, proved it.

“If you wanted to change anything, you could have,” Jack said. “The furniture or the colors or whatever. I wouldn’t have cared, even if you didn’t ask.”

“But would it ever have occurred to you to ask me if you wanted to change something?” Bitty asked. “Of course not. You’d just go and do it. And what happened when I left? Did you go find a new place?”

Bitty knew he hadn’t.

“No,” Jack said. “I still own it. But it never felt the same after you moved out. You should have at least taken your kitchen stuff.”

“Oh, honey, you bought all that,” Bitty said. “And I didn’t have room for it at first anyway. But of course you didn’t feel like you had to leave. It was your place, whether I was there or not.”

By the time Jack left, with a kiss on Bitty’s cheek and a quick hug, Jack had looked so sad. Bitty had forgotten that Jack’s eyes could look like that, like he knew he could never have what he wanted. He’d remembered Jack’s eyes full of focus and intensity, undone by bliss, laughing and comfortable, even hard and angry as they often were in Bitty’s first year. But he’d never remembered the sadness.

“I can have someone send the stuff from the kitchen if you want it,” Jack said.

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” Bitty said. “But I have what I need here.”

“I guess you do,” Jack said. “It’s been a while, eh?”

The evening hadn’t been a disaster. Bitty held onto that. Jack had enjoyed his food, even if he hadn’t had pie (Why hadn’t Bitty made pie? Did he really think Jack didn’t want it, or was he being passive-aggressive?), they’d had a civil conversation about the team, even their discussion of the past hadn’t turned sharp and heated. It was just … sad.

Jack had helped with the dishes before he left, so Bitty was left at eight o’clock with an empty apartment and nothing to do.

He wandered out to the hallway and tapped on the next door.

“It’s open,” Mandy called.

“What is with you two?” Eric said. “Didn’t your mothers tell you to lock the door?”

“You’re the only one who comes over,” Jeni said. She eyed his empty hands. “And you usually bring pie or cake or something.”

“Sorry — I made individual baked apples for me and Jack, and we ate them both,” Bitty said. “Next time?”

“So the hockey dreamboat made it through dessert and yet you’re here and not making sweet, sweet love just on the other side of that wall?” Mandy asked. “What happened?”

“He bailed on you?” Jeni said. “Ate and ran? Or you stood up to him and kicked him out on that massive ass?”

“Neither,” Bitty said. “We ate and we talked. He liked the food. We talked about the Aeros. We talked about what happened to us.”

Bitty sank onto the end of the couch.

“Wine?” Mandy said.

“Please,” Bitty said.

“So what did he have to say for himself?” Jeni said. “Did he apologize?”

“No,” Bitty said. “Not exactly. He’s still angry that I walked out on him when he didn’t realize there was a problem.”

“Dude,” Jeni said. “He didn’t think it was a problem that he was keeping you like a 1950s housewife?”

“If I was his wife, I would have had some status in the household,” Bitty said. “Besides being just a hanger-on. But the thing is, he didn’t even realize that’s what my life was like. He figured I was just sitting around and eating bonbons, enjoying the good life, I guess.”

“Eating pie, more likely,” Mandy said.

“He was sad I didn’t make pie,” Bitty said. “After all those years of complaining about it.”

“We’ve never complained about your pie,” Mandy said.

“Fine,” Bitty said. “I’ll bring you one tomorrow.”

“So are you seeing him again?” Jeni asked.

“Sure,” Bitty said. “On the ice. Henry said I could use the tickets Tuesday, and Jack said it wouldn’t make him uncomfortable if I went to games.”

“And off the ice?” Mandy said. “You guys planning a third date?”

“Lord, Mandy, I think our third date was somewhere around 10 years ago. Probably for coffee before either one of us knew we were dating.”

*****************

Read the next installment

[ivalerier]

Cold Creek Ranch

Between Black Jack and Rustler Creeks, in the shadow of the prickly pear mesa lies the prettiest ranch I ever did see – Cold Creek Ranch.

The Ranch House The outside of this huge ranch home doesn’t betray the treasures within, and I literally mean treasures as the house is crammed full of pieces from all over the world that Eric and Jean have brought back from their many years of wandering. Downstairs in the living room the sofa is covered in a giant bison hide and cow skulls sit broodingly by.

A stuffed springbok makes a friendly bedside companion in the Africa room – so thoughtfully decorated that it even comes complete with the whole series of The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency – the delightful books about a Botswana lady detective. The house is a living history of the different memories of this family, and you could spend hour upon hour gazing at the many pieces and asking where they came from.

The Riding One of my favourite places at Cold Creek Ranch is the tiny rustic wooden tack room – also a favourite for Border Collie Jeff who loves nothing more than to hang out and sleep under the saddles. There’s something about this home made tack room that just makes you feel happy, whether it’s the saddles and bridles – the promise of adventures to come – or the lingering scent of oats, beer and molasses in the air (and on the nosebags!) Either way, every day on the ranch starts here at 5.30am with the feeding of the horses.

The beautiful bay part Arabian Smoky was my favourite of their horses, with his soft dark fur and long black mane, he was a real stud. However all the horses here at Cold Creek have their own individual personalities and merits. From the the tiny mustang Emma Grace with the huge heart to the sleek and lightning fast Quarter Horse Seago – there’s a horse for everyone, and beautiful land to ride on. I loved riding atop the prickly pear mesa where you dodge around cacti at a leisurely gait overlooking the world.

Ranch Life This isn’t a guest or dude ranch, it’s a working ranch so depending on when you’re staying at the ranch, you could witness and take part in a number of different activities. Sometimes it could be nothing more than shoeing horses while other times it could be rounding up cattle, moving cattle and branding and vaccinating too. As it’s a working ranch, you fit in with the ranch schedule which in my opinion is a lot more real and exciting than just being demonstrated the different activities as if you were in a circus. Ranchers learn young, and Cold Creek is no exception! 10 year old twins Emily and Ally were totally unfazed by the calves and calmly helped with vaccinating under their father Keith’s guiding instructions. If you happen to coincide your visit with branding and castrating time – make sure to try the famous ‘mountain oysters’! Cut fresh from the calf, the balls are thrown into the branding fire and are ready to eat.

Another big event at any ranch is auction time, whether the ranchers are buying or selling. As Cold Creek has its own abattoir and packages and sells all its own beef (Double Check Beef), there’s not much selling to do, however they may often be on the lookout for a new bull or cow. Willcox Auction House is a definite experience, from watching the pen riders beforehand to sizing up the stock and horses for sale to the auction itself.

Though not strictly part of ranch productivity, every good rancher needs to know how to shoot, whether to catch something tasty to eat with a little game flavour or to protect yourself from a mountain lion. Cold Creek Ranch is the perfect place to learn! Eric has one of the most impressive collection of guns I have ever seen and is a wonderful instructor. If you have your own firearms you are welcome to bring them along for target practice and the old wooden porch is the perfect place to shoot from. If you’d like to know more, I wrote a separate post on shooting at Cold Creek.

The Food It’s all about breakfasts and dinners here at Cold Creek Ranch, and boy are they good! Jean is without a doubt a formidable cook and the meals will be a highlight of your stay. I made sure to write down all my favourite recipes before I left but I’m sure that my attempts won’t live up to the real deal. Breakfasts range from oatmeal pancakes to Dutch hats and breakfast casseroles – every day it’s something new and the quantities are hearty enough to see you through the long ranch day. Dinners are an explosion of flavour and draw from different cultures for a true Western experience. From all American pot roast and meat loaf to Pozole and chicken and chorizo stew from across the border in Mexico. Jean is hands down the best ranch chef around – I only wish I had taken photos of the food (I was too busy eating clearly).

Other Activities If you have some spare time and a car, there’s a lot to do around the area. Duncan and Clifton are both charming Frontier style towns and though a mine isn’t the most obvious tourist attraction, it sure is a sight to be seen.

Morenci Copper Mine is the largest mine in North America and standing at the lookout point above feels like you’ve left this world and traveled to Mars. Desolate red earth for as far as the eye can see with giant trucks dwarfed by the pits and mounds.

Germaine’s Emporium – you’d be missing out if you didn’t make a trip to Germaine’s in Duncan, an emporium filled with the biggest and most unusual range of objects you never knew you really wanted. From antique music scrolls to native american wooden dolls and everything in between. Make sure to check out the ‘boot room’ where you can find the best value 2nd hand boots around. I paid $20 for a pair of beautiful leather Tony Lama boots!

Clifton Miniature Houses: if you drive around Clifton you’ll no doubt see a number of miniature houses in people’s backyards. These are the remains of a film set and together make up a whole town, complete with sherriffs office, saloon bar, mill and actual houses too. I have yet to find out which film they were used for but I will keep digging. In the meantime they are pretty wonderful to check out.

Silver City New Mexico – if you’ve got some free time and fancy a taste of something different, then the self named ‘Land of Enchantment’ state is really very close. New Mexico has a completely different feel to Arizona – everything from the architecture (colourful adobe houses) to the spicy Mexican style food feels a world away. Downtown Silver City is truly charming and well worth a trip while staying at Cold Creek. Check out my post on Silver City for more info.

Willcox Big Text Bar – B – Que. I wouldn’t usually recommend Texan food in Arizona, but the location is everything here! How often can you eat in an old train carriage?! The food is pretty good too, so it’s a good all round experience, especially if you already happen to be at the auction house.

The Schwennesen Family Cold Creek ranch is owned and run by the Schwennesen family – Eric and Jean, their ex-military sons Paul and Keith and the animals – border collie Jeff, cats – Fizzy, Fuzzy, Yoda, Barnie and Sinbad and the many chickens who produce the prettiest eggs!

This is a family that has roots across the United States and has also moved around the world and as a result they have a wealth of different experiences and interesting tales to tell. Staying here isn’t like staying in a hotel, it’s being a guest and becoming a friend of the family. Sitting around the table at dinner listen to Eric reminiscing about Jean trying to train her rabbit or looking at old family photos, it certainly feels like you’ve made friends for life.

The mission of the family is more than that of your every day cowboy too, as they seek to produce humane and sustainable beef by managing their small scale ranch in a holistic and sustainable manner, conscious of the environment and hoping to improve the land they live on.

Eric has moved all around the world (Pakistan, Lesotho, Somalia to name a few) working for the World Bank and US AID as a specialist in land sustainability. One of his and Jean’s personal projects has been awareness of rock dams and their benefits on minimising soil erosion. Though I only spent one afternoon making rock dams, their presence is all across their land and I certainly learnt a good deal about them.

A stay here isn’t your every day ranching experience, it’s above and beyond. What more could you want?

#TravelStroriesFromTheSaddle

[ginaakers]

The Ultimate 'Has It All' Honeymoon

Once your big day is over all focus goes to the honeymoon. Just like your wedding day your honeymoon has to be memorable and just right, but what makes the perfect couples getaway?  How can you ensure there will be places, experiences and things to do that will suit both of you?  How do you know your choice of honeymoon will provide opportunities for things you want to do together and new experiences you can share?  How do you find the honeymoon that you'll still be talking about for years to come?  

Well the answer is here, the ultimate has it all honeymoon that ticks all the boxes has been found and this is what you can expect from your most romantic getaway ever.  

Relaxation - 'to wed and unwind'

 Weddings require work and can be exhausting so the chance to unwind has to be high on the honeymoon agenda.  This holiday offers five pools and two whirlpools, relaxing by the poolside has never been better as there is also an adults only pool.  The Serenity pool truly is a great escape and being purely for the grownups you can be sure of a tranquil setting.  

For the ultimate relaxation a high class spa experience is a must.  This holiday offers not only one but two spa areas. The Oasis Spa is all indoors offering a range of spa treatments and services, also access to a Hydrotherapy Suite.

The Retreat Spa is an exclusive outdoor spa area with luxurious hot tubs, loungers, lunch and afternoon tea provided.  Both spa settings offer a range of treatments and relaxing facilities to indulge in, including couples treatments such as the 'couples massage perfect for that together feeling.  

Treatments and access to the spa areas incur additional fees but are well worth it for these extremely peaceful and more exclusive settings.  You can add on access to both areas for the duration of your holiday or just select and book certain days.  

The gym has an impressive range of classes and facilities allowing you to keep in shape while looking out to sea views. Use of the gym equipment is complimentary and the gym classes only incur a small fee, some classes are even free.

Luxury Accommodation

No holiday is complete without high class luxury accommodation to keep you in the upmost of comfort while you are away.  

The latest movies can be watched in your room, 24 hour room service is provided including hot foods (most of which are included in the price of your stay).  The rooms have been modelled by carefully selected interior designers and are so comfortable you may never want to leave. They are spacious and can actually provide you with a different view every day (most are balcony rooms).  Luxury bath products from The White Company are also in the rooms for you to indulge in.  The desire for luxury holiday accommodation is not only met but exceeded, particularly if you are honeymooners who want something really exceptional.  

Divine Dining

This holiday offers the ultimate choice in dining options including high class and fine dining experiences.  

The Epicurean Restaurant provides the most luxurious romantic dinner date with the perfect atmosphere.  The tables are candle lit and the decor opulent, this is no doubt the height of elegance in a dining experience.  Fine dining is offered at its best here with an exciting and excellent quality menu with a few 'wow factor’ surprises, do not miss what is undoubtedly the world's best crème brulee.

For more exotic eats the Sindhu restaurant provides the perfect blend of Indian and British fusion dishes using spices for flavour, favouring incredible taste over heat.   This is the restaurant of Michelin Star chef Atul Kochhar.  Sindhu offers the most wonderful Indian food using the best of British ingredients.  This is not the typical type of over the top hot spicy Indian style food you find in the UK.  Sindu uses spices for exquisite flavour, the food is all about the spices prescribed to the dishes delicately for amazing taste rather than heat.

Wonderful sharing dishes can be experienced in The Glass House restaurant, the scotch eggs may be too good to share so ordering two portions is recommended!

The perfect tea for two is on offer with Eric Lanlards exclusive Afternoon Tea in the luxurious Epicurean Restaurant, this is a real treat and works wonderfully for couples sharing.  Eric Lanlards Afternoon Tea is real foodie experience not to be missed. It is an amazing afternoon tea extravaganza in elegant surroundings with the menu designed by the leading cake chef himself.  This afternoon tea offers all you’d expect from the finest of traditional afternoon teas but with a few interesting flares of creativity for that added excitement. 

Experiences

If you looking for an experience to remember then how about learning some all important high class dining culinary skills to set you up for married life? Or even better skills to pass on to your partner to be so there will be no excuse for them to not take their turn in the kitchen.A cookery class with a food hero such as say Marco Pierre White, James Martin and Eric Landlard is exactly what newlyweds need to gain some super couples cooking skills or take back a few speciality recipes to impress friends and family with when you get home. 

These particular holidays are known for their food heroes and who better to learn from than celebrity chefs Marco Pierre White, James Martin, Alex James and Eric Lanlard. The Cookery club provides the opportunity to dine or snack depending on which class you take part in.  Many classes actually feature a range of dishes to learn to cook which results in pretty much eating a meal afterwards of the tasty delights created.  Be warned plan your evening meal for later if taking an afternoon cookery class!

Here is what Celebrity Chef Marco Pierre White has to say about all things food, cooking and being a Food Hero: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx1j5YENXng&t=102s

You can also enjoy a hosted dinner expertly cooked in front of you by an onboard food hero and their team. A ship's captain may even join you and you'd be sat at the table with him, if so this is a great chance to ask him all those particular questions about the sea and if you happen to meet him be sure to ask him about his whale stories.  

 Entertainment

The couple that laughs together that stays together and the same could be said for the couple that enjoys music together, and there is no shortage of either on this holiday.  Along with many comedy acts, live music can also be experienced from high calibre performers such as Kiki Dee with Carmelo Luggari performing a blend of romantic tunes, relaxed melodies, some more upbeat numbers, classics and of course her famous songs. Jacki Graham's motown marathon gives a great balance of her witty comedic character fuelled by her powerful vocals of motowns upbeat and best tracks.  These performances take place in the Limelight Lounge, this ideal setting provides an entire evening of entertainment including a three course meal.

You can also find evening activities in Brodies Bar which is the centre of quizzes, bingo, karaoke and multitude of 'tried and tested’ entertainment old favourites.  There is an onboard cinema screening a range of recent movie releases throughout the day and evening.  Other venues offer typical working men’s club type comedy and covers bands. If you are looking for a civilised evening in a charming setting with live piano music then drinks in the Crows Nest is a must. The Crows Nest offers a more refined atmosphere to relax in.   It is quite spectacular with windows going right around from one side to the other, the perfect place to watch a panoramic view of the sunset.

The Casino is a favourite for many, especially the late night dwellers and a great place to meet other couples. Games include roulette, black jack and 3-card poker, you are bound to make friends with other passengers while enjoying cocktails and cards. 

 Destination Delights

On a holiday like this excursion options are aplenty, one day you could visit a market in Barcelona and the next be eating pizza in Pisa in front of the infamous leaning tower.  

Whether its Michelin star dining in Cadiz, visiting Rome's historic buildings, exploring Barcelona's artisan Gothic quarter, enjoying the different beaches each destination has to offer or even cheese tasting with Alex James, this is the ultimate 'has it all' honeymoon.

If you haven't worked it out by now this perfect 'has it all' honeymoon is a cruise on P&O's luxurious flagship Britannia.  Cruises on Britannia offer everything you could desire for the perfect honeymoon.  With so many memories and experiences you'll want to go on your honeymoon cruise all over again, and if you do then don't forget you can even renew your vows at sea in The Ivory Suite on board the beautiful Britannia.

[justlookfrightened]

Houston Chronicles, Part 21

Read the beginning here. Read the last installment here.

“Marcus, you date a lot, right?’

“Not during playoffs,” Marcus said, changing into his gym clothes. “Besides, you have Eric, right?”

“I’m trying,” Jack said. “I want to take him out to dinner. On a date. Really special. I was hoping you would have some recommendations. Maybe somewhere we could go tonight.”

“Tonight?” Marcus said. “Let me think. He likes food, right? So not just steaks. There’s one really good place, but no way you can get it tonight.”

“I can pay,” Jack said.

“Doesn’t matter,” Marcus said. “You need at least a couple of weeks, and we should be busy then, yes?”

“I hope so,” Jack said. “I was hoping to take him out for one good date before the craziness starts.”

“Give me some ideas. You want barbecue? Asian fusion? Mexican?” Marcus asked. “You have something to celebrate?”

Later, Jack found himself in the lobby of Bitty’s building, in dress shoes and slacks, open-collared shirt and sport coat. He tried to remember the last time he’d dressed up specifically to impress someone -- not because of a dress code, written or unwritten, but because he wanted one particular person to think he looked good, and to know he made an effort to do it for them.

Maybe Bitty’s graduation from Samwell? But that was more to make Bitty’s parents realize they couldn’t intimidate him. Or maybe it was to intimidate them, which didn’t sound very good, even in his own mind.

Instead of buzzing him in, Bitty texted, Be right down.

A minute or two later, Bitty himself appeared, also dressed in slacks and sport coat, but with a jaunty bow tie.

“I don’t usually go with the tie during the day here,” Bitty said. “Especially at work. But I thought you might like it. What’s our plan?”

“Starting with dinner at a place called Xochi,” Jack said. “Marcus and Foxy both said it was good, and that you’d find it more interesting than a steakhouse or seafood place.”

“It’s supposed to be delicious,” Bitty said. “What then?”

“Maybe a walk?” Jack said. “I thought about a concert or a play or something, but we need to spend some time talking. Like a first date. Get to know each other.”

“Sounds lovely,” Bitty said. “Shall we?”

“I drove,” Jack said.

“Still the same car?” Bitty asked. “You did like this car.”

“No need to change it,” Jack said. 

Jack started the car and turned on the air conditioner. It amazed him that he needed in in early April, but it wasn’t so much the temperature as the humidity. His hands felt clammy on the steering wheel. Or maybe that was nerves.

“Um, do you mind if I just park where I’m staying?” Jack said. “The restaurant’s just a five-minute walk. But I don’t want you to think I have ulterior motives.”

“That’s fine,” Bitty said. “And I don’t have any objections to seeing where you’re staying. We’re both grown-ups.”

“We just need to act like it?” Jack suggested, cracking a small grin.

“Well, maybe not too much,” Bitty said. “We had a lot of fun together.”

“We did,” Jack said.

Once they were seated and had their orders taken (tuna appetizer, the half chicken for Jack, the quail for Bitty), Jack just looked at Bitty. Bitty, for once, didn’t seem to know what to say either.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Jack finally said. “Everything I want to say leads to the past, but I don’t want to dwell on that.”

“It’s kind of hard not to mention the past, given our history,” Bitty said. “All our friends in common, even our families … but there’s no need to dwell. Maybe we focus on catching up to where we are now? What are your parents up to these days?”

“Well, Papa still commentates on the Habs games,” Jack said. “Which means he’s frustrated at being at loose ends in April again. His real estate investments seem to be doing well. Oh, and he’s starting that foundation he used to talk about, the one that would bring hockey programs into underserved areas. He got that idea from you, you know.”

“He’s finally doing that?” Bitty said. “I thought he decided he wouldn’t be able to have enough of an effect to do much good.”

“He’s got some of his friends on board,” Jack said. “I think the pilot is going to be Atlanta -- they’ll start with bigger cities where there are rinks, just no low-cost ways for families to access the game. Then they want to get the clubs to help too. Most of them do things in their own cities, but maybe have them support a program in their AHL cities as well. Something like that.”

“So he wants American kids to be as hockey-crazy as Canadians?” “And Minnesotans,” Jack said. “And kids from the northeast.”

“Gotta keep kids off the streets by handing them spears and strapping blades to their feet, right?” Bitty said. “And then telling them to go run into each other.”

“It sounds crazy when you say it like that,” Jack said.

“What about your mother?” Bitty asked.

“I don’t how many charity boards she sits on,” Jack said. “Mostly arts groups around Boston and in Montreal. She might teach a class on the business of entertainment for women or something like that at Samwell next year.”

“Fancy,” Bitty said. “I guess that MBA she earned is coming in handy?”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “When I was a kid, I didn’t get why she’d go back to school. It seemed like so much work, when she’d be gone for class and then working in her office at home. But she liked it. I think maybe it’s one of the things that made me want to go to college.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Bitty said.

“Really?” Jack said. “After everything?”

“Yes, really,” Bitty said. “You make it sound like everything’s in the past and we have no future, though.”

“I hope we do,” Jack said. “I want to say just tell me everything I did wrong so I can fix it, but I don’t think it works that way.”

“Jack, sweet pea, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you have a therapist here? In Houston?”

Bitty asked.

Jack shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve been doing phone appointments with Sydney in Boston.”

“Maybe you should find one sooner than later,” Bitty said. “It’s just -- you took nearly two days to return a text. And it’s -- not fine, but I understand. But maybe you should have someone to help you, someone that you see face-to-face? I know it’s much harder for me to hide things that way.”

“You bit the bullet and went to therapy?” Jack said. “What made you go?”

“Hush,” Bitty said. “You know I had a psychologist helping me with my checking problem in school.”

“I know Murray made you go,” Jack said. “The times I suggested therapy after you graduated, you acted like I was insulting you.”

“I was scared,” Bitty said. “I didn’t want to have to tell another human being how unhappy I was. I was working so hard at keeping up the ‘everything’s hunky dory’ front. Then when I first left, I couldn’t afford it. But I spent some time with someone here deconstructing some of my hangups. And I know it’s my fault that I didn’t communicate my unhappiness to you earlier, and I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry for abandoning you so abruptly. But really, I’m not that good of an actor, and you never noticed I wasn’t thriving. And when I did say something, you laughed at me for thinking I deserved more.”

“No, Bits, not that,” Jack said. “You deserve every good thing. I didn’t get why you wanted to work so much, though. That seemed strange. And if I wasn’t so wrapped up in myself, maybe I would have understood that. Or maybe you would have tried to explain it instead of just trying to keep me happy. Which I understand wasn’t a healthy thing for either of us. And I’m sorry for that.”

“Sounds like you listened to Sydney, at least some of the time,” Bitty said. “And here we are, dwelling on the past … How do you like the food?”

“It’s delicious,” Jack said. “One of the best things I’ve eaten that you didn’t cook. What about you? I have to tell Marcus and Foxy what you thought.”

“It’s great,” Bitty said. “This is delicious. I really like the flavor the bacon gives it.”

“What about your parents?” Jack said. “You said you’re getting along better. How are they doing these days?”

“Coach is really hoping for a state championship before he retires in a few years,” Bitty said. “He’s already got his eye on an eighth-grader who he things will be the quarterback to do it. Mama’s part-time at the pediatrician’s office. And we are getting along, but I think it’s easier with me being a few states away.”

“I can see that,” Jack said. “I can’t have any, but do you want dessert?”

“That chocolate mousse is calling my name,” Bitty said.

“Bitty! Bitty!” Jack whispered.

“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “When’s the last time you talked to Shitty? Besides a couple of days ago?”

************************

Read the next installment

[justlookfrightened]

The Morning After, Part II

Read Part 1 here and Part III here

Jack still had a smile on his face when he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

“Good news?” Tater asked.

“Very,” Jack said.

“You want to share?” Tater asked. “You find new history book? You get money for new rink?”

“Not exactly,” Jack said.

How could he explain that he had just been invited to breakfast -- apparently in his own apartment -- at some undetermined date after they returned from their current two-day roadie? Instead he said, “I just got a text from a friend.”

“A friend?” Tater asked. “Or a friend?”

“A friend,” Jack said firmly, because even though he hoped Bitty turned out to be more, it was way too early to start talking about that. To even think about starting to talk about that. “I was hoping he would get in touch, but I wasn’t sure he had my number. He’s working on the campaign for the ice rink, too.”

“Okay,” Tater said, but he sounded suspicious. “Maybe he has a friend who is a she? Because that’s a smile I never see on you.”

“Nope, just him saying we can have breakfast when we get back,” Jack said, hoping it sounded like a breakfast meeting, to discuss important community ice rink campaign business.

“Okay,” Tater said.

Then Tater’s face lit up.

“You want help?” he said. “Bring me to breakfast. I agree Providence needs more ice rinks. Then more kids play hockey. That’s good, yes?”

“We’ll see,” Jack said, unsure about whether to tell Tater that his friend -- his friend -- wasn’t even a hockey player. He was a figure skater.

When Jack was finally alone in his room, he pulled out his phone and read the text from Bitty again.

If you’re looking for the muffin bowl when you get home, check the concierge desk. Sasha brought your groceries up. I used some to make myself breakfast. Next time you can have some too.

First, he carefully saved Bitty’s number, under “Eric,” to look less incriminating. Then he composed a text to send back.

Sorry about the grocery delivery. I forgot it was this morning. But I’m glad you had something to eat. That looks good. I’d love to join you whenever you can. We get back early Thursday morning, and that’s an off day, so I’m free in the evening, if you are. Don’t worry about the bowl -- I probably wouldn’t have noticed it was gone.

Actually, if Jack knew Sasha, it probably wouldn’t be gone by the time he got back. Chances were, it would be sitting on his counter, clean, probably with a note explaining the circumstances and thanking him for the muffins. Even if he had nothing to do with them.

Sasha, honestly, was sometimes a little intimidating, but Jack admired her efficiency, and he knew she wouldn’t have tried to make Bitty uncomfortable. It still made him cringe -- if he had been caught in someone else’s bed by the building staff, he’d still be hiding in the bathroom. But Bitty, well, Bitty didn’t seem like he was afraid of anyone.

Jack remembered the first time he’d seen Bitty. He’d been on the ice with one of his students, demonstrating a spin. Bitty would do it, his body perfectly balanced, and then let the kid -- a boy, Jack thought -- try, and then Bitty would show him again, drawing attention to the placement of his foot, to the position of his free leg, to the set of his arm. It went that way for three or four repetitions, and then Bitty looked up and caught Jack staring.

Jack had been embarrassed, but instead of apologizing, or complimenting Bitty on his technique, he’d lashed out, yelling about the time it would take to resurface the ice.

It was true, of course. No matter how beautiful figure skaters were -- and Jack wouldn’t argue against that -- they left divots in the ice that took a couple of passes of the Zamboni to fill in. Besides, there were never any more than three or four figure skaters on the ice at once -- fewer as they reached more elite levels -- when you could throw 20 kids on the ice for hockey practice. So why shouldn’t the hockey teams have priority?

But Bitty hadn’t backed down, skating to the boards and telling Jack off for interrupting. “We have five more minutes out here,” he’d said. “And your teams aren’t even ready yet. Why don’t you go tie some skates? Felix here needs to do one one more run-through before he gets off.”

That had set the tone for all their interactions for the next year.

Up until the season Bitty showed up, Jack had only made appearances at the kids’ league to open the season and to award the final trophies. Which he made sure every child got, snarky comments about participation trophies be damned. Those kids all made an effort to get out there and try something new, and Jack thought they should be rewarded.

Once Bitty was on the scene, Jack tried to come whenever his own schedule permitted. Bitty wasn’t there every time, but it seemed like his students had the ice either just before or just after Jack’s minor mites more often than not. Jack wanted to be annoyed at Bitty for insisting on the full measure of his ice time -- he was annoyed, truth be told, when he had 40 kids ready to play a game and Bitty was running one skater through his or her moves for the tenth time.

But he also was more than a little intrigued, and attracted. Bitty was a sight to behold when he skated, and, frankly, adorable off the ice. When he stood up to Jack -- which was every time Jack spoke to him, it seemed like -- he would come right to the boards, even though he had to look up to see Jack’s face. His cheeks would flush pink and his jaw would have a determined set to it.

Despite that, Jack had never seen him in any kind of conflict with anyone else at the rink; even the young hockey coaches Jack’s foundation hired for the league seemed to love him. That was a clear advantage when it came to winning support for a second sheet of ice at the rink, as the event the night before showed.

A new sheet of ice wouldn’t solve all the problems -- there wasn’t enough ice in the world to do that -- but having twice the ice would allow both the hockey and figure skating programs to grow, and Jack, with his celebrity, and Bitty, with his winning personality, were an effective tag team when they were making the case.

By the time the evening was over, Jack was feeling more friendly than he ever had towards Bitty, and he was having a harder time hiding his attraction, until they sat across from each other at the cafe and Jack realized that Bitty was attracted to him too.

Deciding to invite him home might have been the best decision Jack ever made. It also might have been the most reckless.

Jack knew that, and he knew that the very thought of bringing a man home -- someone who knew exactly who he was, and why he wasn’t out, and hadn’t seemed to like him for the past year -- would normally send him spiraling towards an anxiety attack. But when he and Bitty had really talked (okay, really flirted) at the coffee shop, he learned enough of Bitty’s history to know Bitty would never out him.

“I didn’t even tell my mama I was gay until I moved up here permanently,” Bitty told him. “It was bad enough being a gay boy in Georgia. No need for Coach and mama to be the parents of a gay boy in Georgia.”

When Jack looked confused, Bitty shrugged. “With me becoming a Yankee and all, which is what the neighbors think, no one does more than ask politely how I am, and all they have to do is confirm I’m still alive. The scandal of moving to New England is enough to drive anything else out of their minds.”

Sasha wouldn’t tell either. Jack was sure of that. She wouldn’t have told even if she wasn’t paid well to keep quiet about the residents.

He had just settled into a new book on Lewis and Clark when Bitty texted back.

At least while you’re gone no one will yell at me to get off the ice. jk. I have a class Thursday evening but it ends at 8. I could bring you dinner, if you want.

Jack tried to remember the rest of their conversation. Bitty hadn’t said anything about still being in school. Did he teach group skating classes too?

What kind of class? Jack texted.

Cooking, Bitty texted back. I do some cooking classes on the side.

How do you end up teaching skating and cooking? Jack asked, honestly curious. Bitty had mentioned being in college; why didn’t he have a regular job?

You get a degree in American studies, Bitty texted back. Seriously, I don’t like doing the same thing all day. Anyway, I’ll plan something you can eat and make it along with my students, and then I can bring it over. Or we can do something fast at your place. I already know I need to bring some spices. Are you allergic to anything? Besides flavor, I mean?

What was that supposed to mean?

What does that mean? Jack texted.

I’ve seen the inside of your cabinets, and what you order from the grocery store. I can help. I promise.

If it gets you to come over, then fine, Jack typed. But I can’t go far off my nutrition plan.

Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Bitty responded. I used to feed a whole hockey team when I was in college.

Did he mean he hung out with hockey players? Or just brought them treats so the wouldn’t be mad if he was on the ice? Jack was a little pleased that he knew that was how Bitty operated.

How did you know the hockey team? Jack asked.

Um, I was on it? Bitty texted. Captain my senior year and everything.

Shit. Was Bitty mad now? It wasn’t Jack’s fault that Bitty didn’t look like a hockey player, for all he was in great shape, with a compact, lithe body that Jack fully intended to ruminate on as soon as this conversation was over. The way his body and hair glowed gold against Jack’s gray sheets had made an image Jack would have loved to capture.

Sorry, Jack typed. I didn’t know. How do you put the embarrassed face in a text?

The answer came quickly.

You should honestly be more embarrassed to ask that, Bitty texted. I’ll tell you all about it Thursday? Or maybe Friday morning, over coffee.

Part III