#taggfics

[taggianto]

I started a completely new tumblr, not connected to this in any way. It’s completely hockey-focused, so if you enjoy hockey and my writing for hockey fandom, follow me over there.

[taggianto-too]

A Great Fall

Okay, so two people now have asked for braintrauma!Jim. Sorry guys, this is as close as I'll ever be able to get my Murder Husbands to that XD Enjoy!

---

Sebastian heard the crack of a skull hitting cement before he could register what had happened. All he could see was Jim lying on his back on the basement floor beside the workbench. He wasn’t moving.

Ripping the padded sparring gloves from his hands, Sebastian rushed from the opposite side of the basement where he had been working punches against the heavy bag. He was calling Jim’s name in a panic as he dropped to his knees beside him.

Jim was blinking and trying to sit up, but Sebastian held him still. “Hold on, babe, hold on. Don’t move too much,” he said, feeling along Jim’s neck for signs of swelling. There didn’t seem to be any blood, thank god.

“Sebastian? Sebastian what…” His words were coming out slightly slurred, which had Sebastian’s heart racing.

“Shh, babe. Hush. Did you lose consciousness?”

Jim screwed his eyes shut. “I don’t think so. ‘Bastian I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

Sebastian had his mobile to his ear, having dialed the number they only used in emergencies. He cradled the phone on his shoulder so he could help Jim roll onto his side. “Here babe, careful. Put your arm under your head, that’s it. I don’t think you have a neck injury but… hello? Yes. Moran here. Boss is down. A fall, possible concussion. Use the back door.” Sebastian hung up and ran his hand along Jim’s arm. “Your ambulance is on its way.”

“Bas, I really don’t think I need the ambulance,” Jim said, eyes still closed. He reached his hand out and Sebastian caught hold of it, interlocking their fingers.

“Head injuries are not something to be taken lightly, love. You’re getting an X-Ray at the very least, possibly a CT scan.” He squeezed Jim’s hand before letting go to stand up.

Jim’s eyes snapped open. “Where are you going?” he asked, staring up at Sebastian.

“I’ve just got to unlock the door so the EMTs can get in, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Jim said, but his voice was small.

---

“Well, you’ve definitely got a concussion, Mr. Moran,” said the triage nurse as she hung the developed X-Ray film at the foot of Jim’s bed. Everything medical went under Sebastian’s name. Fewer things to connect to Moriarty, fewer questions about Sebastian’s visiting rights. “But it’s only a Grade 1. You might get headaches, dizziness or nausea for a few days, but with plenty of rest and limited physical activity you should be fine.”

“Any other symptoms we should look out for?” Sebastian asked from his place at the side of Jim’s bed. He more or less hadn’t dropped Jim’s hand since they’d loaded him into the ambulance. Unfortunately, the hospital couldn’t be avoided. Jim may have had his own ambulance on standby, but he hardly had an x-ray machine to call his own.

“Well those are the big three, but he might notice a slight ringing in his ears, drowsiness or a change in sleeping patterns…”

“Not that I have any sleeping patterns to begin with,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. Sebastian shushed him.

 The nurse smiled slightly as she continued. “And mood changes as well – decreased energy, restlessness, irritability…”

“So, his normal self then,” Sebastian said, cracking a slight smile that earned him a slap on his arm from Jim.

“We’ll just keep you under observation for a couple hours, then you’ll be free to go back home.” She caught the way Sebastian was looking at Jim, still worried about his husband but relieved it wasn’t anything worse. “I think you’ll be in good hands,” she said, smiling as she exited and closed the door behind her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sebastian pressing soft kisses to Jim’s hand in his. Jim had his eyes closed, sitting up slightly in the bed. Finally, Sebastian spoke. “So what even happened, Jim?”

Jim opened his eyes to look into Sebastian’s. He was about to give some sarcastic comment, but the clearly worried look in his sniper’s eyes had him pausing and rethinking his answer. “I dunno,” he said finally. “I was standing on the workbench –”

“Which I always tell you not to do anyway,” Sebastian said, poking him softly in the ribs.

Jim continued without acknowledging him. “– reaching for the can of WD-40 you keep on the top shelf and I guess I got… distracted while watching you work the heavy bag…”

Sebastian sat back and crossed his arms. “So you fell off the work bench because you were checking out my arse.”

“In my defense, ‘Bastian, you were being very distracting.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” Sebastian said, chuckling and leaning across the bed to press a kiss to Jim’s forehead. “I promise I won’t be so distracting in the future.”

“Fuck that,” Jim said, bringing his hand to the back of Sebastian’s neck to guide him down into a proper kiss.

“You heard the nurse, Jim. Limited physical activity. You won’t be ‘fucking that’ for at least a week.” And with one final kiss, Sebastian grabbed the remote from the side table and flipped on the telly on the opposite wall. There had to be a M*A*S*H rerun on somewhere.

---

Braintrauma!Jim prompts from giantsandmonsters and I think I accidentally deleted the first one. Whoops!

Thanks to Hannah for making sure this made sense. Writing at 1:30am does not cohesive drabbles make.

[taggianto]

Prompt: Wingfic!verse, player and team of your choice, his wings have started changing colors, but it also means his old feathers are scraggly and molting weirdly, and the urge to preen is overpowering.

—

Mitch is the one who catches him in the locker room, wings outstretched as he tries to contort his body to reach the molting pigeon feathers between his shoulder blades. John sighs. He really should have waited to do this at home, but the itch was just too unbearable.

“Matty? You still in here? Did I leave my- oh.” Mitch stops short when he sees him. Not that it’s unusual for guys to have their wings out in the locker room or anything, but John had been keeping his stowed away for a reason. 

He clears his throat. “Auston already left. Is there something I can help you find?”

Mitch blinks and shakes his head as if he just realized he’d been staring. “Oh! Uh, no no, it’s cool, I just thought maybe I’d left my phone charger in his bag but it can wait until next practice; I mean, I have extras and stuff.” He bites his lip, a move John’s come to realize as Mitch trying to stop himself from rambling.

There’s a beat of silence before they both start talking at once.

“It’s okay to-”

“I could help if-”

They both pause. John hasn’t let anyone touch his wings since… Well. He hasn’t had anyone touch his wings in a long time. And yet Mitch looks so hopeful, and the itch of new feathers isn’t going to just go away.

Mitch seems to realize he’s crossed a line and starts to back away. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll just-”

“Mitch, wait.” John lets out a sigh and some of the tension drops from his shoulders. “If you want to help, I’d– I’d like that.”

[taggianto]

44 + bittyparse ♥

“You deserve better than him. It doesn’t have to be me, but you deserve better.”

“Excuse me if I don’t think you’re a little biased, Kent Parson.” Eric wiped at his eyes and stared at him defiantly. “What are you even doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be getting on your bus or something?”

“I heard what he said to you,” Kent said, shrugging a bit helplessly. “I know what it feels like to have to shoulder the brunt of Jack Zimmermann’s anxiety after a loss.”

“It’s called being a supportive boyfriend,” Eric said, narrowing his eyes. “Something I doubt you know anything about.”

Kent didn’t rise to the bait. “Maybe not. But the way I see it, a supportive boyfriend wouldn’t cause their boy to cry and then leave without making sure they were okay.”

Eric sniffed and leaned back against the white cinderblock walls of the arena. “He’s just under a lot of stress. He doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just… it’s just hard on him.”

“And it’s not hard on you?”

“I’m not the face of an NHL franchise.”

“No, you’re just the first out captain of an NCAA hockey team, who, if I’m judging academic calendars correctly, is fast approaching senior midterms.” Kent’s eyes softened. “Who’s being the supportive boyfriend for you?”

Eric doesn’t have anything to say to that.

“Look,” Kent said, digging out a pen and ripping a piece of paper off a nearby flyer. “Relationships are a two-way street. If all you do is give, you’ll have nothing of yourself left. Believe me, I know.” He handed Eric the slip of paper that now had a phone number written on it. “If you need to talk,” Kent said. “And I mean it, I’m not trying to pull anything by giving you my number. I swear I’m not really an asshole, and I know how Jack can get.”

Kent pressed the paper into Eric’s hand, nodded, and left.

Eric didn’t move for a long time afterward.

[taggianto]

Prompt 39 for Sid/Segs, pretty please?

Missed call from Tyler SeguinMissed call from Tyler SeguinMissed call from Tyler SeguinMissed call from Tyler SeguinMissed call from Tyler SeguinTyler: i’ll keep calling for the rest of the night if i have to until you answer meMissed call from Tyler Seguin Missed call from Tyler Seguin Tyler: come on sid answer your fucking phoneTyler: i will not hesitate to call malkinIncoming call from Tyler Seguin

Sidney let out a grunt of frustration. The last thing he needed was to be hounded by Geno as well. He tapped on his phone to answer the call. “There, I answered. Happy?” 

“Ecstatic,” Tyler deadpanned.

“Can’t we just forget about this and move on?”

“We really, really can’t, Sid. You know that. I know that. And now most of the hockey-loving world knows that so.”

“Why did I ever let you talk me into going out last night?” Sidney flopped back onto his bed and closed his eyes. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he could will the earth to swallow him whole.

“Because I am fucking delightful and you know it. Look, we have options here.”

Sidney let out a derisive snort. “Do we now.”

“Get your head in the game Crosby, of course we do. All they have is one picture. We were clearly both inebriated, we can write it off as nothing more than alcohol and poor choices.”

“You would have experience with that, I suppose.” There’s silence on the other end of the line and Sidney cringes inwardly. That was harsher than he intended. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

Tyler’s voice is tight when he speaks again. “I’ll chalk that up to your being under a lot of stress and move past it if you will.”

“Deal.”

“Right,” Tyler continues. “Well. I’ve already been in contact with Stars’ PR, of course, and they made sure I knew the organization supported me regardless of sexual orientation, blah blah blah, you know the drill. They’re willing to take cues from us on how we want to handle this so. I’m assuming you’re looking to deny, obviously.”

Silence again, this time on Sidney’s end.Was he looking to deny the allegations? The smart answer would be to take the out that Tyler was offering. Nothing more than alcohol-inspired bad decisions. But then Sidney thought of actually going up in front of a press conference and denying it, denying he was anything other than the good, straight, Canadian hockey robot everyone wanted him to be. And for what?

“Sidney? You still with me?”

His career could obviously withstand his outing, is the thing. The Pens were hardly going to trade him or cut back his ice time. Tyler was similarly comfortable in his position with the Stars, even if he was in Texas. And what sort of example would it set? He’d never be able to come out after denying it once.

“Hello? Earth to Sid?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Right. So anyway, Stacy already has drafts written up for a press conference, so all she needs–”

“No.”

Tyler was quiet for a second, then, “No?”

Sidney sighed. “Aren’t you tired of hiding, Tyler?”

“Well, fuck, of course I am but that’s how the world works, Croz.”

“Why? Why is that? What if it didn’t have to be like that?”

A beat. “Sid, you can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Sidney sat up on the edge of the bed, more sure by the second. “I mean, if you don’t want to then I’m not going to out you. But what if we didn’t deny it?”

“You’re crazy,” Tyler said, but Sidney was sure he wasn’t imagining the smile in Tyler’s voice.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m batshit insane. I don’t know. But I do know that I am a gay man and I play damn good hockey, and I’m tired of pretending that one can’t exist because of the other.”

“We’re actually doing this,” Tyler said, voice a bit quiet and awed. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think we are.” 

[taggianto]

Check Please ABO angst under the cut

What it says on the tin.

Kent goes into his first heat two days after they win the memorial cup. As a closeted omega - there were no out omegas in the NHL - he’s not had the proper classes, and doesn’t know what to expect. You could only trust late night internet searches so much.

It hits him like a bullet train. He tries to type out a message to Jack to cancel their plans to hang out for the day, his hands shaking from the fever. The last thing he needs right now is an alpha coming into his motel room. Jack knew about his presentation, but it was one thing to know it and another thing entirely for him to walk in on it.

But it’s too late.

Kent can smell him, and it’s all the best parts of hockey - the ice and the sweat and the exertion and the blood - and from the look on Jack’s face when Kent opens the door, he’s sure that Jack is getting the same. And suddenly he wants more than he’s ever wanted before because he’s been in love with Jack for years and now his alpha is here and he needs him.

---

Jack knows that it’s the pheremones making Kent beg, making him want, some small part of his brain registers that Kent’s not thinking clearly right now but well... neither is he. So he lets instinct take over, completely. He dominates and Kent submits, he ruts and Kent presents. And when instinct tells him to bite down hard on Kent’s neck just as his knot is forming, he doesn’t think twice.

Maybe if the local Alpha classes hadn’t always conflicted with hockey practice, he might have known why.

---

Late night internet searches don’t do it justice. The rush of endorphines when his bonding gland bursts is so much, too much, too much, but this must mean that Jack’s chosen him, right? That’s what it meant, didn’t it? And he knows what he has to do now, just has to get his mouth on Jack’s neck to complete them. But he’s so tired, and Jack is still in him, and he’s so warm, and soon he drifts off to sleep.

When he wakes, he’s alone. Red and blue lights flash in the windows of his motel room.

---

He doesn’t realize it until it’s too late. There’s blood on Kent’s neck and an electricity between them and oh fucking fuck he needs to get out of here right now. But he’s still knotted inside Kent and he can’t move. His vision is tunneling as spirals of anxiety claw at his brain...

He has to leave. 

As soon as he feels his knot start to release, he pulls out, quickly, because he needs to get out of here before Kent wakes up, he needs his pills, he can’t breathe, the room is filled with their scent and it’s all too much.

Back in his room he dumps out the little orange bottle and starts to swallow. Maybe if he just takes a few more, it’ll work faster and he won’t have to worry and it’ll all be over and maybe a few more will just fix it.

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

***

It’s the summer before Kent’s Junior year in the NHL and the abandonment pain is just something he deals with now. Just always an undercurrent, something else to be ignored and hidden, like the scar on his neck. He’s always so careful to hide it in the locker room, uses an expensive sports-grade concealer that’s waterproof. 

But Kent’s not perfect, and he forgets, sometimes, that Jeff has a key to his place. Forgets that he hasn’t put his concealer back on after his shower. Forgets, until Jeff is standing there and staring at his neck with a look on his face somewhere between confusion and poorly controlled rage.

Because there’s no way to lie and say that it’s not a bonding scar, and Jeff isn’t the one who put it there.

***

The Falconers win the cup in Jack’s rookie season and suddenly he doesn’t want to hide any more. He wants to show the world that Bitty is his chosen mate, wants to be able to hold him and protect him in public, toxic hockey culture be damned.

The kiss is a shot heard ‘round the world. Jack’s the first NHL player to publicly choose a male mate. The wedding is later that summer, and on his wedding night, Jack claims his mate, and Bitty claims him in return.

---

An unholy sound wakes Jeff Troy from his sleep. Next to him in bed, Kent is thrashing and shaking and screaming. His skin is clammy and feverish and nothing Jeff says or does can calm him down. He calls 9-1-1 and tries to soothe his lover, but Kent keeps begging Jeff to make it stop, to make the pain stop, to just let it kill him so it won’t hurt any more.

They load Kent into the ambulance and Jeff rides with him, squeezing his hand and listening to his love beg over and over for death.

---

In Providence, Jack feels a certain sense of unease, but then the hormone release is triggering a heat in Bitty beneath him and suddenly that’s the only thing he can focus on.

---

At the hospital, Kent is sedated and resting, IV lines in both his arms and so many beeping machines hooked up to him that he looks like some sort of science experiment. Jeff stands when the doctor enters the room and asks for Kent’s mate. He starts to ask a question but the doctor stops him. Not you, he’s saying. Where is his bonded mate?

Realization washes over him like an icy river. He’s not even really listening when the doctor starts to explain that the alpha who had marked Kent had likely just chosen a new mate, and been marked in return.

This feverish state is caused by that first bond dissolving. It’s tricky, and it’s dangerous, because it rarely happens like this... and it’s often fatal.

Even if Kent survives... he’ll never be able to bond again.

---

A major NHL star being rushed to a hospital in the off season is front page news.

It can’t be a coincidence that it’s happened on Jack’s wedding night.

---

Jeff is there when it happens.

It’s sudden. Kent’s vitals had been weak all day, but they’d been relatively stable. But then there are machines beeping and a light flashing and Kent... Kent isn’t breathing. Jeff pulls the call light and shouts, and then the crash cart is there and he’s being shoved out of the way. 

They work on him for what seems like hours but is likely only mere minutes. They shock him, they intubate, and his ribs crack from the force of CPR. The doctor is about ready to call it, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

But Jeff gets to him. He puts his hand on Kent’s because he can’t do this, he can’t say goodbye. He just can’t.

And then there’s a pulse.

---

Bitty is horrified. Because Jack never told him this. Jack wasn’t supposed to keep secrets from him. Especially not secrets like this. He’d said that he and Kent had hooked up in the Q. 

He hadn’t said that he’d marked him and then abandoned him that same night.

Bitty’s an omega. He grew up hearing stories of what happened when omegas were abandoned by their alphas. The dry, clinical way the symptoms were listed by the tutors at his omega classes. The horror stories that alphas liked to tell at parties. The slurs and the name calling and under it all, the constant agonizing pain.

We were dumb teenagers. We didn’t know any better.

Bitty needs to get away. He can’t be here for this right now, because he’s going to be sick. He can’t believe he’s hearing this presenationist, classist, Alpha-headed bullshit from Jack - Jack, his loving, sweet, caring husband.

But he tries and he... can’t. He tries to walk out of the room and he can’t. Because he’s freshly bonded and every step he tries to take to get away just brings more pain.

---

The hospital keeps Kent in a medically induced coma for 36 hours. Jeff doesn’t sleep.

Which means Jeff is there when he wakes up. He squeezes Kent’s hand and brushes the hair from his forehead. He asks him how he feels. Kent just stares at him, and his answer is only one word.

Empty.

---

The pain is gone.

For the first time since the Q, Kent wakes up and there’s no pain. There’s nothing.

Jeff is there. 

And when Kent looks at him, there’s nothing.

[taggianto]

If there was one thing Kent knew, it was that with every high, there inevitably followed a low. And winning the Stanley Cup in his rookie season was a big fucking high. So that’s how Kent found himself three weeks later, in the kitchen of his brand new, professionally decorated penthouse apartment, eating Rocky Road ice cream straight from the tub. The radio is blasting “All By Myself” and though he’s definitely not crying, it’s a damn close thing.

The music is so loud, he doesn’t hear the door opening. When Jeff Troy rounds the corner into his kitchen, Kent’s eyes go wide as saucers, and he swears rather explicitly in Quebecois.

“Jesus Christ, Parser,” Jeff starts just as Kent says, “Shit, you’re early.” They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment until Jeff breaks out laughing.

Kent throws his spoon at him. “You are such an asshole.” He puts the lid back on the ice cream tub and shoves it into the freezer before switching off the radio.

Jeff is still chuckling, but there’s concern in his voice too. “So what was that about, huh?”

“It’s stupid.” Kent bends to pick up the spoon and toss it in the dishwasher.

When Kent looks up, Jeff has his arms crossed and an I’m not going to let you brush this one off, Parson look on his face. “Try me.”

“It’s just…” Kent sighs. Jeff was his best friend on the team, one of the only other players who’d bothered to get to know him outside of what he brought to the ice. Hell, he’d lived with Jeff’s older brother up until a few weeks ago, so if he couldn’t tell him what was going on, who could he tell? “It’s the apartment.”

“What about it?” Jeff drops his keys and wallet on the counter and hops onto a stool next to Kent at the kitchen’s granite-top island. “Regretting going with almond cream in the bathroom rather than waterfall mist?” Kent had a feeling Jeff was never going to let him live down the one time he’d asked his opinion on paint swatches.

“No, it’s just… so…” He waves a hand and searches for the right word. “...empty.”

He’s expecting Jeff to chirp him for that. He’s not expecting Jeff to look at him and nod. “Yeah, no, I get that.” Jeff claps a hand onto his shoulder. “And I know just what you need.”

So that’s how, forty-five minutes later, Kent finds himself knee deep in puppies at the Las Vegas Valley Humane Society. It turns out if you’re mildly famous and show up at the shelter, they’ll let you play with the puppies all you want. He and Jeff had taken a few of the older dogs out for their walks earlier and now they were both on the floor of the puppy play room throwing tennis balls and watching the rottweiler-lab-chow-terrier mixes gallop unsteadily after them. Their mother has her head on Kent’s thigh, grateful for the break from dealing with her pups.

“You do this a lot?” Kent asks once the pups have waddled off to occupy themselves with something more interesting.

“Not a lot, but it’s good stress relief.” Jeff ruffles the ears of a nearby pup. “I mean, obviously with our schedules there’s no way I’d have time for a dog but I had them growing up, y’know? So I miss it.”

“I never had pets growing up,” Kent says, staring straight ahead as one of the pups wrestles his brother to the ground.

“Really?” Jeff looks over at him. “Not even a fish?”

“Well, okay, I had a goldfish, but it only lived a couple months. But like, my mom is really allergic to pet dander so we could never have one.” He scratches between the mother dog’s ears and she thumps her tail appreciatively.

“Are you allergic?”

Kent gestures around at the surrounding animals. “Obviously not.”

Jeff laughs and nods. “Then you should get one. It’d make your apartment less empty, that’s for sure.”

“You just said that we don’t have time for dogs with our schedule. And we don’t.”

“So get a cat.” Jeff shrugs.

“Are cats easier?”

“Dude, cats are so easier.” Jeff stands and stretches out his back, holding out a hand to help Kent up. “As long as you leave food out, you can leave them by themselves for a few days. And on the longer roadies, you can just hire a pet sitter.”

They find one of the shelter workers who happily shows them to the cat rooms. The walls are lined with stainless steel cages. Paws reach out through the bars and tiny mews follow them around the room.

“Fuck, there are so many.” Kent is a little overwhelmed by the number of cages. “How the hell do you choose one?”

“From my experience, you just kinda know.” Jeff kneels down to scratch at a calico rubbing up against the bars. “That’s how it was when I picked out my first dog.”

Kent does a lap around the room, looking in the cages. He’d never really been a big fan of cats - yeah, they were cute and cat videos were inherently hilarious - but because his mother was so allergic he’d never really thought about them much. But now, looking into the cages and listening to the soft (and some not-so-soft) sounds coming from them, he’s starting to see the appeal.

He’s rubbing between the ears of a little grey kitten when he spots her. She’s in one of the bottom cages, and she’s curled up asleep in her litter box of all places. She eyes him warily as he crouches down.

Hi! My name is KITT, the placard on the front reads. 2 years old, female, spayed. BREED: Maine Coon. COLOR: Brown tabby. My previous owners had to move, so I’m looking for my new furever home! I may seem shy, but I warm up quickly. My favorite things to do include sitting in sun beams, chasing toy mice, and purring!

“Hey there, little girl,” Kent says quietly. She stands and stretches, arching her back up and yawning. He slides his fingers in between the bars and she cautiously comes over to sniff at him, then proceeds to start licking him. “Hey, that tickles!” he says with a soft laugh.

“Would you like to hold her?” Kent jumps slightly and looks up to see one of the shelter volunteers smiling at him. “I can let her out for you.” He nods, and the woman opens up the cage door.

Kitt stands at the edge of the cage, and Kent gently slides a hand along her cheek. “She’s so soft,” he says, smiling.

“Maine coons are really soft,” the volunteer says. “And really loyal. If you’re looking for a fluffy companion, a coon would be good for you.”

Kent spots Jeff smiling over at him then, and there’s a warmth there that he hasn’t noticed before. Huh. He catches his eye and Jeff glances away quickly. Before he can say anything though, Kent’s got a lapful of cat, one paw reaching over to guide his hand back to her head. He laughs and obligingly scratches between her ears. “I’ll take her.”

[taggianto]

The Aces Charity Carnival

Ladies and gentleman, step right up! It’s time for the annual Las Vegas Aces Charity Carnival!

Born from spitballing in the Parse Posi Posse discord. Love to @rushingsnowy (Linnea) and beaniebaneenie (CJ) for cheerleading and helping with this, and love to the rest of the Posse for all their support and awesomeness in general!

Suddenly I have the image of the Aces doing some sort of fundraiser with a dunk tank and everyone on the team signing up so they can dunk Carl

And like, it's outside in Las Vegas and normally it would be like, super hot so getting dunked in a tub full of water would be a good thing? Except it's stupidly unseasonably cold the day of the fundraiser so by the end of his shift Carl is shivering and his lips may or may not be blue from it

And then it's Kent's turn and everyone who signs up misses on purpose.

Jeff has a line a mile long while he's in the kissing booth.

Mostly because he's out at this point so there's both men and women lined up to kiss him

Kent gets in line with the guise of it being "for charity" but really he just wants to be able to kiss his boyfriend in public with a layer of plausible deniability

Scrappy is actually really good at face painting? So he spends the whole time painting kids faces with Aces logos and butterflies and sharks and abusing his glitter spray liberally

So what if each booth is for a different charity. Like the kissing booth is for HIV testing, the dunk tank is for well drilling in impoverished countries, the face painting is for art education... and each Ace is sponsoring one of the booths and matching all donations by 500%

CJ: What if the only person who dunks Kent is Bitty, because he wanted to see Kent with a wet t-shirt

But it's okay because it's at the end of his shift and then Jeff is there with a big fluffy towel to get him all dry

Jack is super awkward at this whole carnival thing. But he and Kent have started talking again and Kent had invited him and it was the offseason so he really didn't have an excuse....

He asks for a hockey stick at the face painting booth and scrappy paints a super glittery butterfly on him instead because he's still a little petty about how much his Captain got hurt by this guy

Jeff scolds him later because liking butterflies as a guy isn't a bad thing and shouldn't be used as a method of humiliating someone but at the same time he's like but for real I get you, bro

Jeff's just like "next time just like, paint that the Aces are better than the Falcs and then get that shit on insta."

CJ: ....what if Jack offers to get in the dunk tank (also matching donations?)

Bitty talks him into this because the only thing better than jack in a tshirt is jack in a wet tshirt Bitty has a Thing okay?

Linnea: are bitty and jack out in this? does the media latch onto pictures of sparkly butterfly on jack's face and go 'this gay pro athlete out here, being gay' and jack's like 1) i just wanted a hockey stick 2) a sparkly butterfly isn't what makes me gay? i was literally holding my boyfriend's hand and kissing him. why not take a picture of that?

Jack and Bits are definitely out for this.

There's definitely like, a hardest slap shot competition, with two entry levels - amateaur and pro. Because a lot of hockey players show up for this thing and jump at the chance to show off

Bitty actually signs up for the pro side and does pretty damn well for himself.

Jack and Kent end up tying for second. Some nobody fourth liner for the Lightning gets first and a lot of the players in the area are like hmmmmm

One of their goalies is really good at slight of hand, and does magic trick shows for the kids

They call the goalie Houdini. His first name is Harry anyway, the magic tricks were just a fortunate coincidence.

He's like their back-up's back up. But the guys love him too much so even though he's down in the AHL for the moment, he still gets invited to all the team events off season.

There's also a silent auction of course, and there's the requisite signed jerseys and sticks and pucks, but there are also gift certificates to the player's favorite restaurants, and one of the most popular items is a date with a few of the players.

So. Who wins the dates? Let me tell you.

Jeff's date is bought by this older gentleman who takes Jeff out to a celebrity restaurant in Vegas and then to a bourbon bar afterwards and they bond over talking about trains - Jeff loves model trains and the gentleman's father was an engineer.

Scrappy goes out with a woman whose husband bought the date for her. She's middle aged and super self conscious about her looks, but Scrappy is a total gentleman and treats her like royalty the entire night. They go swing dancing and she turns out to be really good once she gets the hang of it.

CJ: What if scrappy got her a corsage, bc that's what people did for dates when this woman was in the dating world

Kent's "date" is bought by the parents of a ten-year old kid who's on the spectrum and idolizes Kent. Kent takes him out onto the ice and shows him how to shoot the puck and gives him a jersey and one of his old sticks and shows him all around the behind the scenes of the arena, and also gives him box seat tickets to a game with his parents. It's a private box so if it gets too overstimulating for him he can take a break. Kent keeps up with the kid, sending him emails and eventually helps him pay for college when his parents go through a rough spot.

No one buys Carl's date.

CJ: bitty also definitely paid to kiss swoops

Kent gets Ideas when he sees Jeff and Bitty kiss. Because he's over Jack by now, he has no desire to start up any sort of sexual relationship with him ever again. But. He just might be convinced to sit and watch their boyfriends.... >.> this isn't an NsFW chat but you get the idea.

CJ: ...maybe Kent gets it in his head to kiss bitty?

And is v. disappointed when Bits doesn't get in line for his shift at the kissing booth. But then again he isn't out so Bits may just be trying to respect that? But then again he IS Jack's fiancé. And Kent is Jack's ex. Maybe that would be weird? But maybe it would be hot... fuck.

All I know is they def go out for a double date after the carnival except Bitty isn't aware it's a double date at first because he doesn't know Kent and Jeff are together, except Kent thinks he does because he definitely told Jack about them and he just figures that Jack will have told Bitty but he hasn't? Because he didn't want to out Kent if that's not what he wanted? And Jesus Christ Jack, since when did you get to be so thoughtful?

Fuck, yes of course you can tell your fucking fiancé that I'm in a relationship with my teammate but thank you for not assuming.

CJ: "Hey Eric, Swoops and I need you to settle something for us... We keep fighting over who is the better kisser... We need you to be the objective scorer. For science."

Bitty: But I'm not a girl? Kent: wait, what? Bitty: you're both straight, right? Or well, I know Jeff is Bi but... Jeff: Eric, Kent and I are together. Kent: And you know Jack is my ex. Bitty: Right but like you'd never actually come out to me or anything and I didn't want to assume I just thought maybe you were trying to get comparisons between how you both kiss different people and Jeff: Dude, breathe.(edited)

CJ: Jeff: also Zimmermann? [Bitty] is a good kisser. Out of your league, definitely. Way to go.

Jeff: *holds out a fist for a bump* Jack: Uh.... Bitty: No, babe he's totally right. I am so out of your league. *kisses his cheek*

Meet me in NSFW.

They go back to Kent and Jeff's place after dinner and Kent is definitely quite a bit tipsy on wine and Jeff is pleasantly buzzed and Bitty is too and Jack's the only one who's fully sober.

Jeff: So Kent and I were talking. Kent: *giggles* Jeff: And he'd totally like to watch you fuck me, Eric. If you'd be up for that. Bitty: :flushed: Jack: :no_mouth: :thinking: :flushed: CJ: Bitty: looks at swoops and sees tall muscle-y brunette Bitty: i.....could be persuaded

Bitty: glances at Jack Jack: subtly tries to hide the bulge that's appeared in his dress pants Jack: *looks at Kent* Would that mean we...? Kent: Oh, no. Sorry Zimms, you know I love you bro but that'd be weird I think? But I'm totally cool with watching them while we jack off to it. Admit it, it'd be hot as fuck. Jack: :tomato: Jeff: I'll take that as a yes?

CJ: Ngl i love bitty/parswoops bc  A) Kent gets two bfs B) swoops has two smol blond boyfriends

I don't see Jeff getting with Jack tho. TBH, I don't think Jack would be down for sharing himself with someone else? But he's totally on board for Bitty being with who he wants.

So when they all get together Bitty, Jeff and Kent go have their fun while Jack sits out on the porch reading a book and getting the quiet time he needs, and then Bitty sleeps with him in the guest room at night

CJ: And on nights where Jack needs to breathe, bitty and Jeff cuddle with Kent In the middle

Yes. And it takes so long for Jack to admit that some nights he just needs to be alone because at first he feels like that's rejecting bitty? But then they have Jeff and Kent in their lives and Jack can get what he needs and so can Bitty and it's perfect

CJ: Jeff also approves of this because it's easier to lavish attention on kent with two

CJ: And overstimulated, wrecked Kenny is beautiful

And like, before they got to this point Bitty and Jack's relationship was kinda on the rocks because they were fighting all the time (surprise surprise Jack couldn't communicate what he needed)

But now it's just so peaceful? Like yeah they still fight but it's just normal couple stuff.

CJ: Swoops would probably be good at getting them to cope better

Oh yeah. He would be super no nonsense about it too.

Like just. Sit them down and be like look, you're both idiots. Figure this out, Kent and I are going to the movies.

The end <3

[taggianto]

7 + any pairing of your choice

“I can’t stand you right now.”

Jeff doesn’t look up when Kent finally speaks. They’re the last two left in the locker room after practice - even the rink staff had told them just to lock the doors on their way out. Jeff’s not even out of his skates yet.

Kent continues. “I don’t even - Like, I can’t even really look at you right now, do you understand? Do you have any idea what you– how you made me–” His voice finally breaks.

The sound sends a white hot spike of shame down Jeff’s spine. This was his fault. There’s no one to blame but himself. He opens his mouth to try and say… something, anything, but nothing comes.

Memories from last night flash through his mind. Alcohol, dancing, arguments, yelling, a stranger, a bathroom, regret. Bitter and hot and angry and cold.

Kent shakes his head and shoulders his gear bag. “Don’t even bother coming home,” he says, and leaves.

[taggianto]

U for Kent/jeff please! -pwoops ;)

*narrows eyes*

—

U. Coming Home for PARSWOOPS.

—

The plane’s wheels had barely touched the tarmac by the time Kent started poking at Jeff’s arm.

“Jeff. Jeff, wake up. Jeff. Jeffrey. Swoops.” Kent punctuated each word with a poke.

“Wazzzafuck…” Jeff mumbled, blinking his eyes before squinting at Kent. “S'going on?”

Kent pointed past him to the plane’s window. “We’re here!”

Jeff groaned and turned his head to look. “Plane’s still moving, Parse.”

“Yeah, but we’re here!” Kent was practically bouncing in his seat as the plane made its way to the terminal. Jeff was abruptly reminded of a video he’d seen of a cockatoo dancing to music.

“Dude, chill.”

“We have been on this plane for over sixteen hours, I am literally out of chill, come on, help me get our bags.”

Jeff sat up, rubbed at his eyes, cracked his back, and let out a soft, “Christ.”

Kent busied himself with packing away their various electronic gadgets and chargers, folding up the blankets they’d used to nap, and throwing away any stray wrappers and garbage.

The plane finally stopped at the terminal and the flight attendants gave their farewells. Kent literally dragged Jeff out of his seat and up into the aisle so they could disembark.

“I don’t know what you’re in such a big hurry for,” Jeff said. “We still have to wait for the people in front of us to move.”

“You don’t know why I’m in such a big hurry,” Kent said, deadpan.

That caught Jeff a little by surprise. “Uh… no? I mean, I know you’ve missed Kit while we were in Russia but…”

Kent leaned in so close to Jeff’s ear his lips were practically brushing it as he whispered. “Because you just won a gold fucking medal for Canada and as soon as we get home I am going to give you the treatment an Olympic gold fucking medalist deserves.” He punctuated the last sentence by biting at Jeff’s earlobe before pulling away.

“Oh,” Jeff said, suddenly a bit breathless.

Kent simply winked at him and hitched his carry on bag over his shoulder.

It was good to be home.

[taggianto]

number 5 of the angst prompts for bennguin, since you did such a great job with the other one :)

“The thought of losing you scares me.”

Jamie is fast asleep, sprawled out along Tyler’s couch with his head pillowed in Tyler’s lap. He’s snoring softly and the light from the muted television paints soft colors across his face.

He’s beautiful.

Tyler’s struck by a spike of emotion at the thought. Love, fear, hope, uncertainty. It makes the air catch in his throat and he runs shaking fingers through Jamie’s soft hair. “I love you, so fucking much,” Tyler whispers, and closes his eyes against the prickling of tears threatening to fall.

“I want to tell you. I want to shout it from the rooftops, and I want to whisper it in your ear. I want to get married and grow old with you and adopt a million dogs and maybe a few kids and retire to a house on a lake. 

“I want it more than I’ve wanted anything else in the world, Jamie, and I’m so fucking scared.”

[taggianto]

Number 11 of the angst prompts for Sid/Flower please?

“Tell me this when you’re sober.”

“I’ll have you know I am ex… extremely so– sober right now, Flower.”

“Sid, I can smell the alcohol on your breath from Vegas. Drink some water, go to bed.”

“You can’t smell it cuz you’re in Vegas,” Sid slurs, eying the whiskey in his glass suspiciously. “You’re in Vegas and you’re not here.”

A sigh comes down the line. “Sid, you’re drunk. Go to bed.”

“I mean it though,” Sid continues, ignoring Flower’s protests. “I mean every word I just said. I mean it. I love you. I still fucking love you but you left me and now there’s no one here.”

“Sid, I love you too, but you’re not going to love the hangover you have in the morning.”

“No, no, no, you don’t get it.” Sid goes to set his glass down on the coffee table and misses. Oops. “I love you love you.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, then silence for a few beats. “That’s not fair, Sid–”

“What’s not fair is that you left me.”

“No! What’s not fair is that you waited until I’m on the other side of the fucking country to get drunk and confess your apparent feelings for me.”

“Flower–”

“No, I’m not done Sid. This is so– you know what? This is so fucking typical.” There’s anger in his voice now. “You wait and wait and wait and then when there’s no possibility of something actually being able to happen you grow the balls to say something. Where was this for the thirteen fucking seasons we were on the same team? You don’t love me, Sid. You love the idea of me. But you’re too fucking scared to admit it and take a chance on someone you could actually be with. Go to bed. If you still remember this in the morning, then call me and we can talk. But right now, I need to go.”

The line clicks dead and all Sid can do is stare at his phone.

( prompt me )

[taggianto]

Parswoops + Snow

Prompt from the Parse Posi Posse

“It’s just a little snow, how bad could it be?” Jeff looks around at the madness currently taking place inside the grocery store. The bread shelf was quickly emptying and every person who walked past him and Kent had at least two gallons of milk in their carts.

“Just a little...” Kent rolls his eyes. “Have you never been through a lake effect snowstorm?”

“I grew up in Canada,” Jeff replies, affronted.

“Yeah, in Calgary.” Kent grabs a couple loaves of bread and tosses them into the shopping cart.

Jeff just looks at him, confused. “We get snow in Calgary.”

Kent sighs and pulls out his phone, opening up to the latest forecast and shoving it at Jeff’s face.

“Four to six feet?” Jeff blinks and reads that again. “In two days? What the actual fuck, Parser?”

Kent rolls his eyes and drags Jeff toward the dairy section. “Welcome to the Great Lakes region.”

[taggianto]

Pimms + Shopping

Prompt from the Parse Posi Posse

“No. No. No. Fuck no. Maybe. No.”

“Kenny...” Jack whines. “It’s a fucking tie, just pick one, we’re going to be late.”

Kent doesn’t respond, just keeps flipping through ties on the rack and vetoing every single one he comes across. Jack keeps glancing at his watch. The last bus from the mall would be coming soon and he really doesn't feel like calling their billet family to come get them when they aren’t even supposed to be out in the first place.

Jack starts poking at his sides. “Kennnyyyy... Kent.... Kent. Kent. Kenthony. Kentholomew. Kentarius Versace Parselonious the Third...”

“Shut the fuck up, Zimmermann,” Kent says, but Jack can tell he’s biting back a laugh.

Jack grins and keeps poking him. This has the expected response of Kent wheeling around and getting him into a headlock, which Jack tries (half-heartedly) to escape, continuing to make up ever more ridiculous names to call his liney. Jack’s just glad for a little physical attention to be thrown his way. Even if it was getting them a few disdainful looks from the store’s staff.

“Alright, uncle, uncle!” Jack cries with a laugh and Kent finally lets him go. He grabs a blue tie from the rack with barely a glance at it.

“Come on, let’s go. I want to get a smoothie before we leave.” Kent smirks at him and all Jack can do is give him a goofy grin in return.

[taggianto]

kent parson, H

Someone’s Greatest Fear—

You would think it would be injury, given his occupation. Or perhaps death, given his history. Perhaps a more nebulous form of medication and illness and addiction. Perhaps a secret spilled.

You’d be wrong.

Kent Parson’s greatest fear isn’t a career-ending injury or death - of a friend, of himself or even of his cat. It’s not the knowledge of what overindulgence can do, how it can scoop you up and swallow you whole and leave you as nothing but a husk of your former self. It’s not even the derision and abuse and pain that would come from his greatest secret being outed to the masses.

No, Kent Parson’s greatest fear is himself.

He’d never admit it. If asked, he’d say “spiders” because everyone loves to bring up that time in the hotel in Arizona. If he was being more serious, he might say “success,” because that’s what humble athletes are supposed to say. If you got him alone, at night on his couch with nothing but the glow of the television lighting up the room and Kit purring on his lap, he might come closer to the truth and say “loneliness.”

Because in the end, there’s only one person, one thing, on which you can truly rely.

And Kent knows he isn’t good enough.

[taggianto]

kent/swoops #42

42.

The pie was a masterpiece, that much was certain. Maple Peach Apple, with an intricate crust made of dozens of tiny leaf-shaped pieces of dough. It was sitting on the counter, still warm, and there was a heated debate happening around it.

“Pies are for eating,” Jeff was saying, a slight note of exasperation in his voice.

“I know that,” Kent said. “But I don’t want to cut it up - it took Eric so long to do that pattern on the top.”

“He made it because you wouldn’t stop whining about not getting a piece at the barbecue yesterday. Now do you want a slice or not?”

“Well, yeah - but I don’t want to cut it!” Kent’s pouting face was adorable.

“You can’t have it both ways, babe.” Jeff arched an eyebrow and picked up a knife.

Kent sighed. “Fine. But let me take a photo first.”