Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

aka: adorable things that jack 100% says in future televised interviews that make the samwell crew (ESPECIALLY bitty) lose their shit:

• early in the season, when jack is asked “how you think your detour in college affected your play,” jack gets very serious and says that he doesn’t like the term detour because it implies you weren’t supposed to go there at all and that is not how he views his time at samwell and it would be disrespectful to all the great players both on his team and who play at the collegiate level to say that they didn’t help him improve. it is the first time that jack zimmermann sounds passionate about something on air and this makes the PR team very happy and Shitty is at the Haus watching and everyone ends up hugging and crying about their boy except Lardo and Dex.
• The PR joy is short lived because jack never addresses the comments directly again but he gets very snippy about this. if anyone mentions phrases like “pitstop” or “detour” or even “it’s great to see you back where you belong” his face goes dark and stormy and he might not bother correcting them again, but whatever the question, they aren’t getting a good quote for their magazine. the press figures it out eventually.
• when asked what other professional sport he would like to play, jack zimmermann says “anything but lacrosse. never really saw the point of it.” and the Haus throws a party that spans two nights.
• when asked what his favorite cheat day snack is, jack zimmermann says “pie” with a smile on his face that seems a bit too happy but, hey, the guy must really love pie.
• when asked by a snobby interviewer what his major was (in a tone of voice that clearly says he is expecting Jack Zimmerman to say something stupid), jack zimmermann goes into a full speech outlining his thesis and noting which historians he thinks truly capture the time period and he keeps his voice flat and awkward (like all his interviews tend to be) but the boys see his little flash of a smug grin when the interviewer flounders after his five minute monologue and doesn’t have any followup questions.
• when asked what advice he would give to young hockey players, jack zimmermann smiles just a little bit and says “eat more protein.” the press takes it as jack being ridiculous and maybe he even gets yelled at by PR for that because “c’mon, zimms, weve TALKED about this- say something INSPIRING” but bitty knows that little smile was for him and texts him a string of heart mixed with chirp emojis and tweets ‘this boy’-
• when asked what he thinks the best sitcom is, jack zimmermann pretends to consider for two seconds before saying in his most serious, deadpan voice “i’ve been told on good authority that the answer is 30 rock.” Holster cries. He cries harder when the followup question is “who’s your favorite character” and Jack’s answer is “sorry, i haven’t seen enough to know their names.”
• when asked why he is often seen at NWHL games on his days off, jack zimmermann replies “i love watching great hockey” and when pressed further on the issue, simply repeats that statement as if very confused why people are still asking this question.
• when asked (before he is out) if he has “someone special” for valentine’s day, everyone is expecting him to say no, but jack freakin’ zimmermann shrugs one shoulder and says “yup” and when they tease “oh, she must be very lucky”, this boy says “yeah, i mean, i try” and then refuses any further questions while the internet goes wild over his use of neutral pronouns.
• when he DOES come out and someone asks if he’s seeing anyone, jack zimmermann smiles directly at the camera - a huge, ridiculous, i am so fucking in love smile that the world has literally never seen before (and there’s a BLUSH TOO!!) - and says “Yes, I’ve been lucky enough to date my boyfriend for four years. thank you for your time.” and walks off before anyone can ask him anymore questions.

Chapter Text

 [original tumblr post]

 

 So just saw your blog post about Jack's interview any head canons of Bitty as a hockey husband sitting near all the other hockey wives?

 

I sure do!! (if you haven’t, i would read the interview head canons here first)

• To start, we have to go back a bit. Because Jack and Bitty chose to remain hidden for four years and, like it or not, that has had an effect on their relationship. BUT don’t worry- it was not a bad effect. It was not easy or simple and there was a strain, yes, but it did lead to one key fact that Bitty is actually very grateful for:
• He has built up a life independent from Jack. They realized early on that Jack goes completely heart-eyes around Bitty and so while Bitty has obviously met all the Falconers, he is not best friends with them. He does not attend all Jack’s games (he attends a few, but only when he can grab one of the boys from Samwell and make it into a group-thing because he doesn’t really want to sit alone in the stands); he does not keep his weekends free to go out with Jack and the boys; and he does not actually move to Providence the moment he graduates.
• Instead, Bitty moves to Paris (it was a hard decision and he misses Jack but Jack wants him to follow his dreams and for once not worry about the cost and actually, when Jack visits him in Paris, they are able to be a little daring so…). He apprentices under a baker there and then when he does move to Providence at this 4 year mark, Bitty opens his own bakery and he’s glad he’s not out as “Jack’s boyfriend” because when his business flourishes, he knows it’s because he is good at this, not because people are there to gawk at Jack’s Zimmermann’s boyfriend.
• The point is: Bitty has created a life apart from Jack. He has his own friends (around the world now) and his employees at the Bakery turn into his little family, each with their own problems that he helps with and he takes some of them to the Falconer games and, gradually, they probably are told about him and Jack (or figure it out) but their favorite part of watching the Falconer’s play isn’t watching Eric Bittle go heart-eyes over his boyfriend; it’s watching their sweet, even-tempered boss scream obscenities at the opposing team and go on rambles about ridiculous calls and they had known their boss was a hockey player but it is still a thrill to see him in his element. 
• Of course, the plan is always to come out to the world and they both feel ready and it is awesome, it’s better, honestly, than either of them let themselves dream (and look, bitty isn’t going to turn down the boom in business either because that means he can give his whole team raises!!) so they do it and they are happy and–
• And the Providence Hockey world gets ready. The team (who has met Bitty before and were probably at least a little in the know, same as bitty’s friends) is ready to finally see (and chirp) their captain for being so happy, and the fans are ready to go to battle for the player that brought them the cup, and the wives and girlfriend’s are ready to welcome Bitty so fucking hard. They are going to prove that they are not homophobic and that they are the friendliest people on earth and they are going to go out of their way to treat him no differently that the others. Eric Bittle is given a free pass to the inner circle of Hockey Wives.
• Jack and Bitty come out midseason (after the Falconer’s secured their playoff run, before the actual playoffs because why not?) and the world is ready and so it’s a bit of a disappointment when the first game after the announcement, Bitty doesn’t come. 

• He misses the second game too- an even bigger disappointment because he had said he was going to make it to this one, but then there is a wedding cake disaster and Eric R. Bittle will not allow a bride to be unhappy on their special day. Not if he has to stay and re-bake the order himself!! and Jack is completely understanding (in fact, sometimes he likes when he and Bitty watch his games together on their DVR later that night because, again, it’s the one time he gets to see Bitty curse and pace around their apartment shaking his fist in the air and Bitty sometimes spots things that Jack misses or comes up with plays they should try based on how people’s skills are improving and Jack usually falls asleep mid second period but if he manages to stay awake, win or lose, it always leads to sex) but the Providence Falconers and their wives and girlfriends are bummed. 
• So bummed that this is even communicated to Jack in a “Cap, we really want to meet him- i mean - unless he is scared?? or uncomfortable? but, like… he shouldn’t be? like he shouldn’t assume that we are… like that, you know?-  I mean, not that he is assuming or you are but i mean, unless he doesnt want to come- no pressure, Cap, it’s just…” it’s a very awkward conversation and Jack gets snippy at first before realizing that people want to meet Bitty and wow, they’ve worked so long at keeping these two worlds separate that they forgot they would have to combine them at some point.
• So Jack heads to the bakery where he tries to help Bitty fix the order as best he can and asks him (head down, blush high on his cheeks) if Bitty would please come to his next game? Because people are excited to meet him? And, he’s sorry to put this pressure on him and they have talked so long about how Jack’s career should never take precedence over Bitty’s but maybe if– Bitty cuts him off with a kiss and a giggle that says he never thought about people being excited to meet him and yes, darlin’, he’d love to go to the next game but right now he has a wedding cake to finish and Tanya broke her wrist so can’t help decorate so…
• Their next home game is a Tuesday. Which means Monday is spent in a bit of a panic. Bitty is suddenly very aware that he is only 24 (almost 25 really, can he just start saying 25?) years old and he cannot decide what pies to bring or what to wear and goodness, Jack could be playing with these guys and their wives for years and at one point he calls Jack to say that they should go right back into the closet because life was simpler there and he didn’t have to worry that someone had a peanut allergy. 
• Little does Bitty know, the Hockey Wife Group Chat (which he will be added to later that night) is undergoing similar drama. (I forget what I usually wear, Cheryl! Do I wear a skirt or a dress? A t-shirt maybe? What do you usually wear, people??? Do I tell him my brother is gay when I meet him? Is that weird. I think that’s weird. Oh gosh guys, Zimms is the captain! DONT WEAR HEELS LADIES HE IS SHORT AND WE DONT WANT TO TOWER!!!)
• Neither side is ready for the other. Bitty is expecting southern ladies who hide their severe disapproval (hey, there’s a reason he went north for college) behind barely polite smiles. (Also, for some reason they are old. which makes no sense he realizes later because hockey players are pretty young and it makes sense that their wives would be the same but…. he pictured old!) The ladies are expecting… well, someone a little more like Jack? Quiet and shy and probably nervous so they will have to bring him out of his shell.
• It goes better than either side could have anticipated. Bitty shows up in the VIP section armed with pies and a smile and the initial chat is a little awkward because there are so many people all trying to geniunely out-nice the other but then–
• Then the game starts. And Bitty tries to hold in his yelling tendencies but most of these ladies have been dating their SO for years and so, yes, there are a few who sit near the back of the box and talk shit (bitty joins them on his way to the bathroom and they are hilarious), but for most of the game, Bitty finds himself sandwiched between Madison and Lily and good lord, he thought he was passionate about hockey but at one point, he is pretty sure Lily mutters “stab him through the throat, sweetie, just… stab him.” and, well, his cursing is not going to be an issue. 
• Also, his tendency to drink during the games is not an issue. “The best part of this is they have to stay sober,” Wendy tells him as she downs her 5th glass of wine and goodness, all the shots of the wives’ box the TV sometimes shows must be from the beginning of the games because by the end of the first second, nicely curled hair is pulled into messy buns and he has had wine spilled on him twice and he had thought he had seen messy eaters living in a frat house but he hadn’t. not like this.
• By the time the boys are done and Bitty is ready to ride home with Jack, he is part of the Hockey Wive’s Group Chat, has over four orders for his bakery (because of course his pie was a hit) and is pretty sure he has never been quite so drunk. He leans heavily on Jack and tries to tell Jack all the best bits and there is no post-game sex that night because bitty passes out in the car and doesn’t wake up when Jack carries him to bed. (the next day, the group chat is entirely emojiis of various death symbols. except for Madison. Somehow Madison is up and talking about a farmer’s market. bitty hates madison. except she picks him up so organic butter and offers to bring it to his bakery so he forgives her.) 
• So the hockey wives love Bitty (except for Mary-Ann but she generally hates everyone and is known for being pretty catty and it’s a relief when her husband is traded the following year) and Bitty genuinely enjoys hanging out with them but he still doesn’t make every game. (Not to say that all of them are automatically there either, but there is a core group who are). He has his baking friends and about half the time he does go, it’s still with some of the Samwell Crew (Shitty and Lardo most often, Holster and Rans when Rans has a break from med school) or other friends, so he doesn’t sit with them. Not that he doesn’t like them but he has his own friends. 
• However, when he mentions he hates dealing with the ordering for his bakery, that vendors are always trying to scam him, Lily offers to come and do that for him and, well, she certainly isn’t going to let anyone take advantage of her (seriously, thank goodness her husband is the most level-headed guy on the team who gets into even fewer fights than Jack and who just smiles at her when they walk to their car and she is telling him he should have ripped the mans arm off and beat him with it ) so he says yes (and, he swears people start giving him discounts on butter) and Madison comes along too since it turns out those two have been friends for years. So it becomes common place to hear Lily screaming from the back office and Madison cannot bake but loves making coffee and he is rather alarmed by how well they fit into his little baking unit. When the whole bakery goes to the games, they sit down in the regular section with him and the others. 
• When Bitty can make a game and knows he is going to be sitting in the VIP section, he lets everyone know via group chat (which is he pretty active on, even if he is usually too busy to make the games) and it is something of a special occasion and everyone has a fantastic time.

Goodness, I have to stop here. Otherwise I’ll just go all day. But, yeah, this is basically how I see it! Hope you enjoyed! :)

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

• Lardo finds out first. Probably because she comes back from dinner with Shitty’s parents and takes one look at Bitty and just knows. She probably just stares at him, saying nothing, but looking all the same and he blurts everything to her. She nods and doesn’t tell anyone else.
• Of course, Shitty find out next. Jack manages to keep it in for about three weeks after graduation by resorting to simple one word answers like “good” and “yes” and “i hope so” for a while but eventually Shitty asks him a completely unrelated statement like “Dude, you have got to see the movie- Boy Meets Girl- fucking unreal, it’s about–” and suddenly Jack is just like “IM DATING BITTY” because he can’t hold it in for a second longer. Shitty hangs up immediately and drives to providence because this is a BROTIME CONVERSATION in which neither of them should be wearing pants. Or at least, he’s not gonna and c’mon jack just get under the blanket, please just–
• In a fucking TWIST, Dex finds out next. Bitty and Jack manage to avoid saying anything on the group chat and they even manage to hide the fact that after july 4th, they spend an alarming amount of time together in Providence, but Dex gets the weekend off the fishing boat and calls Bitty to tell him that he is driving back to the Haus “just for a weekend” and in true Dex fashion he doesn’t really say why but he sounds upset and Bitty goes back to hang out with him. He arrives at the house to find a stressed, too-thin, oddly-sad Dex who, frankly, doesn’t look like he’s been eating or sleeping enough and… Bitty doesn’t know what’s wrong but they both sit together in the kitchen, Bitty trying to convince Dex to eat more pie and feeling vaguely guilty because he is so fucking happy and Dex is clearly not. And then it just… it comes out. Dex mumbles something about hating being around his family now that he’s been to samwell because some of them say some fucked up shit and Bitty commiserates and before he knows what he’s doing he’s telling Dex that he hasn’t even had the guts to tell his mom and dad that he is dating Jack Zimmerman. It’s a quiet moment, different than when he told Lardo because this is more a choice and less of a necessity and Bitty doesn’t regret it.
• Dex doesn’t say a word, to anyone, and that brings him and Bitty closer together than they were before. Not that Bitty thought Dex was a bad person but… Dex doesn’t even have to be asked not to mention it. He just gets it instinctively in a way that a lot of the other boys don’t because not a one of them has an ounce of discretion and none of them quite understand being at odds with your family like Dex and Bitty do. How you can love them so damn much and still disagree with them at the core of your being. What kind of toll that takes on you. 

• Anyway, mid- August, Johnson sends a text saying “Congratulations you two- good luck on upcoming relationship drama due to its necessity in the medium! Don’t let outside pressures get to you!” and they dont really know what that means but it seems he knows too. Oh well.
• Nursey finds out because he walks in on Jack and Bitty making out at the Haus when Jack visits in September. He turns around quickly and repeats the word “chill” no less than eleven times in a row and walks out and he also tells no one but he could not be more obvious if he tries.
• It takes Holster and Ransom all of two days to break him. Nursey spills and/or knocks into something every meal for those two days and they corner him in the kitchen of the Haus and his eyes flick to the living room, to the couch that he caught Bitty and Jack on and Nursey tries to keep it in, but finally Bitty just calls Jack, puts him on speaker phone and says “we have to tell them, babe, they’re gonna kill Nursey” and so Jack does.
• Ransom and Holster are furious that they were not told. So furious that the moment they are done cheering for joy and planning a celebratory kegster, they go on a “hunger strike” and refuse to eat Bitty’s “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you” pie. It goes suspiciously missing once it cools and the tin shows up in the sink less than twelve hours later, during which time both Holster and Ransom are seen with suspicious stains on their t-shirts but the hunger strike continues until Bitty has made both of their favorite meal twice and promised to do so at least once a month until graduation (the Haus is going to be eating a lot of buffalo wings.)
• Chowder is told last but doesn’t realize it because he runs around telling everyone the news and a few people try to point out that they already knew but are completely ignored in the force of his joy. Bitty is sure to tell him no less than twenty two times that he cannot spread this information around but in the end has to rely on the fact that Chowder often gets too overwhelmed and speaks in a tone which the average person cannot understand. So he’s not a security breach and all is well.
• Everyone else - the tadpoles, Bitty’s family, the world - they find out later but that’s okay. All the important people know anyway. :)

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

I know we talk a lot about how Jack and Bitty are going to have to hide their relationship from the press and so, obviously, that is the main thing that Jack has to remember not to mention during post-game debriefs or other interviews, but consider all the other little tidbits that he has to be careful not to mention:

• how many times he has wrestled with Shitty. how many times Shitty was naked during these matches. the one time Shitty tackled him when he was coming out of the shower and they were both naked.
• his blatant encouragement for his team to steal as much food as possible from every free event on campus
• the fire extinguisher story
• the time sophomore year when he accidentally wound up being the official judge of a wet t-shirt contest. he agreed because he thought it was just between ransom and holster, but it turns out it was a campus wide event for people of all gender identities and there must be pictures of it somewhere and he knows his face was beat red the whole time…
• the time that the cops were called on the Haus because even the lax bros were worried about the angry shouts coming from inside. there is a reason he and holster are not allowed to play board games.
• the prank that went a hair too far aka the time that shitty filled out all the paperwork for Jack to legally adopt him (early in their freshman year when Shitty was still 17 and, really, Jack should have stopped being friends with him then) and it had almost gone through. Sometimes he still gets adoption papers in the mail.
• though this could be because the prank repeated itself the next year and Jack had had to call again and explain that no he did not want to adopt Ransom. (thank god, holster had been in the q and was closer to 20).
• the time Jack had used Holster’s computer to order some of his books on Amazon and had forgotten to take his credit card information off and for two months random shit kept turning up at the Haus (he figured it out after a week but he had enough money and it was hilarious to see the stuff his teammates bought)
• that had resulted in a short lived “Family Band” in which Jack found himself playing the drums (a drumset half composed of bongos and with more cymbals than anything else), Holster sang and played harmonica, Ransom attempted to learn guitar even though they actually bought a banjo so none of the fingerings were the same, Shitty insisted on the accordion and it turns out the only person who could plan an instrument was Johnson and he played the trombone. There is video somewhere. Jack needs to make sure the world never hears it.
• (sidenote: when the boys find out about bitty and jack, jack finds out that holster still has his credit card information because so many sex toys show up at his house like, honestly, thank god for discreet packaging and how much lube do they think he and bitty need??? bitty turns a delightful shade of red with every package though, so jack doesn’t bother cancelling the card.)
• he also needs to make sure not to bring up the fact that the boys all joined an intramural flag football team his senior year. mostly because it was against the rules for varsity athletes to join (and murray and hall would have killed them if they found out) but also because they haven’t stopped (they are almost made the championship last year! bitty’s arm is too good to not let it throw footballs!) and, okay, yes, one time there was a game while Jack was visiting and, look, bitty needs good blocking, okay? 
• pretty much all of his experiences at samwell tbh. like he talks such a big game about wanting people to ask about it and how it was so important but then the moment a reporter asks him “what is your favorite college memory?” the first thing that pops into his head is bitty, obviously, but when he manages to pull his thoughts away from his boyfriend, it is only to think of having to stop Shitty from thinking he can jump off the roof when he’s high or the time they played street hockey in the middle of the road at 3am using only emergency flares for lighting or the no-hands pie eating contest that lardo had won (jack had come in a close second; ransom had thrown up all over the floor; bitty had to look away for most of it) or the time holster and ransom made him be a distraction so they could sneak over to the lax bros house and steal all their toilet paper (”since we’re out jack- this is killing two birds with one stone!”) or the countless number of times he had to apologize to people on behalf of his team doing ridiculous (often unholy) things in the library.
• and then, of course, there’s the stuff that he wouldn’t really mind telling the press but he has to keep secret from his team: the fact that the last “scholarship” Randoms got late in the year that let his med school be 100% free doesn’t exist; that there was no grant that paid for all of Samwell’s Hockey team to get new equipment; that the man who technically owned the Haus did not “die and leave it to the Hockey team”
• Basically, it’s no wonder Jack’s interviews are so careful and scripted and focus entirely on hockey. The man is keeping a lot of secrets.

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

I know we talk a lot about how much Shitty helps Jack (constantly defending him, encouraging him to be himself, showing him how to have fun) and believe me, I agree with all of it (I am currently working on a freshmen year jack and shitty friendship fic) BUT may I also present: 

Headcanons on How Jack is Just What Shitty Needed:

• So Shitty went to Andover, which context clues/google tells me is a fancy boarding school for fancy, rich people. And we also know Shitty is… Shitty. Of all the boys, I feel like he fits in with the Andover crowd the least. 
• And I’m sure some of that is rebellion against the school after the fact (I went to an all-girls catholic school so rebelling after the fact is in my lifeblood) but the signs must have been there while Shitty was still attending. He chose to go to Samwell for a reason so we can assume that even in high school, Shitty did not 100% fit with the Andover crowd. 
• He’s not unpopular, because Shitty is loud and friendly and plays hockey but I’m not sure Shitty had any super close friends. The smart kids are a little bit jealous that he never seems to do any work and most of the hockey team isn’t keeping up with his questioning musings on sexuality and gender and he is probably known as that kid who gets in fights with the teachers all the time and Shitty doesn’t go to Harvard for many reasons: because he doesn’t want to and because fuck his dad and his dad’s family, but also because… he wants to meet different types of people. Because he doesn’t really fit in at Andover. And he never really wanted to.
• So he goes to Samwell and he doesn’t get a hockey scholarship but he is allowed to walk on the team and suddenly he finds himself living across the hall from Jack Zimmermann. Who Shitty of course knows about. Because he grew up in Boston. And he plays hockey. And he loves hockey.
• But he does not imagine he will be that close with Jack Zimmermann. Because, honestly, at this point, Shitty can’t imagine being that close with anyone. His friends at Andover put up with him (or at least, they at least pretended to listen to him for part of the time before talking over him or telling him to cmon, man, shut the fuck up!) and Shitty could share a few laughs with them but in terms of connecting well… 
• (Just please, please imagine slightly insecure but has convinced himself he’s fine young baby 17 year old Shitty Knight. But like… not even insecure just he probably doesn’t even realize that real friendship is out there. maybe he has a small inkling that this isn’t how friends treat each other but not really and i am going to need to think about this more. baby shitty. who knew.)
• ANYway, the one thing Shitty does know how to do well and does love doing is getting into fights (god, young shitty was probably almost like Dex in this regard). So it’s natural that when someone says a sly, stupid comment about overdosing to Jack, Shitty jumps on ‘em. Because fuck you, sir and he has been looking for a fight since he arrived and–
• Okay, I promised myself I would keep this focused on how Shitty needs Jack so let’s skip forward to the moment when Shitty realizes that Jack listens to him. Like ever since the outstanding defense move, Jack has opted to sit near Shitty and Shitty feels a warm glow of something at that (and, later, he will recognize this as claiming his role as Defender of Jack Zimmermann against All Evil) and at first they work because Jack is pretty much silent and Shitty never really stops talking and Shitty figures that is his role. To talk while Jack Zimmermann thinks about hockey.
• But then one day at breakfast, Shitty is talking about his Intro to Women’s Studies class and the studies about how the idea that “boys are better at science and math” is a learned behavior, and Jack is sitting next to him, as usual, and then– “Hold up,” Jack says. “I have to go get more eggs.” and for a moment, Shitty is completely confused as to why Jack told him that information because he is more than used to people walking away from him mid-ramble and so he sort of watches as Jack leaves and wonders what is wrong and then Jack returns and doesn’t look up from his food but says something like “Okay, sorry, so girls want to be doctors, eh?” and Shitty realizes that Jack has been listening this whole time. 

• And it turns out that Jack loves listening and he rarely interjects (because Jack doesn’t often think he has anything worth interjecting, especially not freshmen year when he is still adjusting to being seen as something other than a hockey-player and doesn’t quite realize that people will care what he has to say) but he is listening. And if Shitty asks him a question, he can answer. And then one day, mid-October, Jack disagrees with him. And they have a debate.
• Except it’s not like the debates Shitty got in with his friends in high school. Jack speaks lowly and he takes his time answering Shitty’s rebuttals and it’s fun and neither of them really know when this starts but Shitty takes to hanging out in Jack’s single all the time and then end up having conversations. Sometimes even late at night though Jack likes to complain that they need to go to sleep so they can play hockey.
• Oh, hockey! Let’s talk about how Shitty (who played on the third line as a senior with Bitty) isn’t actually all that good at hockey and how Jack teaches him. For no other reason than because Jack loves hockey and Shitty loves it and staying after to half talk about hockey and half talk about life is fun. And Shitty gets good enough to actually play in games! And he actually scores and Jack isn’t on the ice for it, but after the game, he hugs him as if it’s an immediately celly anyway.
• Now, let’s think about Shitty and Jack’s parents. We know that they are close but let’s go ahead and tie that in with how Shitty and his parents (at least his dad) are not close at all. I imagine that one day Shitty bursts into Jack’s room (and, really, maybe this is why their friendship works. Jack has long since given up having any sort of personal space after playing on the Q and, as a boarding student, Shitty never really believed in personal space to begin with); anyway Shitty bursts in and Jack is “on the phone with my dad” he explains and Shitty exits the room immediately because to him “with my dad” means “my dad is yelling at me or lecturing me or someone in the family has died.”
• So: “What’s wrong?” Shitty asks Jack when Jack comes to his door 20 minutes later. “Is everything okay?” And Jack is confused because “Yeah, he was just checking in.” and Shitty winces and says “Oh, that’s rough. I hate the random check-ins. So fuckin’ awkward, bro.” And Jack sort of nods and then feels guilty for nodding because he is starting to understand that his issues with his dad are mostly coming from his side (including, but not limited to the all encompassing pressure he puts on himself) and so he corrects: “I mean, it’s not bad. He just wanted to know how i’m settling in.”
• And Shitty realizes abruptly that probably not all dads are like his or even like the other kids at Andover and, perhaps for the first time in his life, Shitty knowingly uses hockey-bro culture to get out of a conversation he doesn’t want to have. He jokes about something else and Jack is never one to force any kind of conversation and–
• Jack may be a hockey robot but part of his coding has been re-wired to care about Shitty Knight, his ridiculous friend who just started growing a mustache and who had dragged him to goodwill to buy new clothes and then has sort of stopped wearing pants, and so Jack Zimmermann casually starts sharing his care packages from home. Because Shitty never gets any. And then when Bad Bob calls again, Jack says “Hold on, Papa, talk to my friend Shitty for a moment, I have to run to the rest room” and hands the phone to Shitty before he can protest.
• He takes his time and when he gets back Shitty is pacing his room, talking animatedly to hockey legend Bad Bob and Jack just waves a hand when Shitty tries to give him the phone back and after, Shitty goes uncharacteristically quiet before saying something like “your dad is super chill, bro” and from that point on, Jack makes a point to always give Shitty the phone “to say hi” whenever his dad calls.
• [That’s not the only time Shitty and the Zimmermanns talk because unfortunately Jack has a few rough patches his freshmen year as he is getting re-settled and as the hockey world gets used to seeing Jack Zimmermann on the ice again and there are two times when Shitty calls for back-up but THAT IS NOT THE FOCUS RIGHT NOW.]
• Imagine Shitty’s father deciding (for some stupid reason) to come to parent’s weekend and Jack has never seen Shitty so stressed and unhappy and Shitty doesn’t ask him to come to dinner with them after the hockey game but outside the locker room, Jack overhears Mr. Knight saying something like “Well, you didn’t exactly get a lot of ice time, son, are you sure this is where you should be putting your energy?” and Jack sees Shitty’s face and for maybe the first time in his life, Jack Zimmermann wields his name and his reputation like a weapon. He walks up and slings an arm around Shitty (without even bothering to introduce himself) and “Great game,” Jack tells him and then, as if pretending to see Mr. Knight for the first time, turns and says “Oh, hello. I’m Jack Zimmermann. I practice with your son all the time. He’s a great player!” and Mr. Knight is also from Boston and when Jack says “My father and I are going to dinner if you two would like to join?”, he is powerless to do anything but say yes. 
• And, look, Bad Bob fucking loves Shitty Knight, okay? This teenager has brought Jack back to life in a way that is nothing short of incredible and one time Jack had dropped the phone because Shitty had tackled him when he got back to his room and Bad Bob had heard his son laugh and Bad Bob is not stupid. He takes one look at Mr. Knight and his pinched face and suit at a hockey game and hears what his son has done and he knows. And he certainly knows how to dominate a room if he needs to so Mr. Knight gets out barely a word all evening.
• But where is Alicia Zimmermann, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you where she is. One, she missed parents weekend because is still working (because not everyone retires at age 43, Bob) and she has charities to run and she sits on so many boards that not even she can remember them all but Bob keeps her informed and Jack is a little bit more hesitate to pass the phone off to Shitty when she is on the phone just because Shitty curses. A lot. But Alicia Zimmermann has heard about Shitty and “let me say hi to your friend, Jack” and Jack almost loses it because Shitty fucking stands when he takes the phone and is all “Yes, ma’am. Oh, no, ma’am, but that’s very kind of you. Oh, no, I- well, yes, I do  think it is time for Samwell to have a female president, did Jack tell you that I just wrote a paper on–” 
• On Shitty’s birthday, he gets a card, a book, and a short phone call from his mother, a card with a check in it from his father, four presents from Bad Bob and two more from Mrs. Zimmermann and they both call to sing him Happy Birthday. And then a cake gets delivered from the local bakery.
• At some point, Shitty tries to mention it. (Probably after he is invited to spend spring break with the Zimmermanns.) Tries to thank Jack for kind of bringing him into his family and letting Shitty take up so much time when they talk on the phone and he gets mid-way through a ramble and he is feeling embarrassed and at one point he starts apologizing because people shouldn’t have to share their parents just because yours are the worst and as he takes a breath, Jack just looks at him, blinks, and says “I have no idea what you are talking about” and then tackles him.
• Shitty suddenly getting all the support he needs to grow into a full-fledged Shitty, not only from Jack’s family but from Jack himself. Jack supports his idea to grow a mustache and tells him he looks good in crop tops and tells him that he is certainly smart enough to major in two things if he wants to and Jack doesn’t smoke with him but doesn’t mind sitting with him and Jack buys him his first floral snapback a little bit as a joke but also “because I thought you would like it? I feel like it’s… feminist? Somehow? Here just take it, eh?”
• Jack gets offered Dibs in the House (because he is also going to be captain and everyone sort of knows it so technically Brandon has Jack carry his bags to class for a month but he had been checked and hurt his shoulder and Jack doesn’t even realize he’s doing it for Dibs and not just to be a good teammate) and Shitty is a little bummed because he had sort of pictures sucking it up and asking his dad for the money so he and Jack could get a two bedroom off campus somewhere but that’s clearly not going to happen (and there’s no way a guy that doesn’t even play every game is going to get into the Haus) so… 
• But then Jack also realizes this predicament and he is not about to use his name or star status to get any special treatment but he mentions that he is actually thinking about not living in the Haus and– well, suddenly Carter Marsh is on Shitty’s doorstep demanding free back massages for life and Shitty has the room right next to Jack’s. (Because the team knows those two are inseparable. And honestly, it will be safer for everyone if they stay together. One time Shitty had had to go home for some family thing for five days and Jack was a nightmare.)
• Like… I imagine that Jack isn’t the most touchy-feely of people but then he realizes that that is how Shitty shows affection and he just learns to love it (but kind of only with Shitty) and Shitty gets so fucking good at reading Jack’s faces and keeps defending him (at the risk of personal injury sometimes) and Jack does the same fucking thing, just a bit more subtly and it’s ridiculous how much these two boys just love each other and–
• Okay, I’m going to stop there but just… the friendship of Jack Zimmermann and Shitty Knight. It’s a fuckin’ beaut.

Chapter Text

[Bad Bob tumblr post]

original ask: I'd love a bullet-point or ficlet response, but anything's fine – you're a fabulous writer! Anyway, imagine Bad Bob Zimmermann taking to social media like a fish to water. Does he make puns of his nickname on twitter (like posting photos of Jack and himself with #DadBob or announcing good news with #GladBob) or make silly vines? Does he do #tbt stuff with photos of Alicia or his mama? Does he retweet all of Jack's instagram pics or Eric's tweets? What's his twitter response to Jack coming out?

Okay, I’m going to tell you upfront that I have no idea what this is going to turn into. This is gonna be stream-of-conscious petals style because we stayed up way too late last night but then i woke up at 7 and thought about this ask and–

• I think the first thing to realize is that Bad Bob Zimmermann is the most extroverted extrovert to ever extrovert on this mortal plane. Bad Bob probably got into hockey because his parents had no idea what to do with his boundless energy and the fact that he literally never stopped talking ever and hockey (at 4 years old) seemed like a good way to try to work some of that energy out. Failing that, it at least made lil Bobby someone else’s problem for three hours a week (which then became an hour a day, and, look by the time he is like 8, they just let him hang out at the ice rinks the moment school is out because he knows all the staff by name and there is an endless cycle of other kids for him to play with and it’s a good system! sometimes he even sleeps!).
• And while Jack loves hockey for the game and, largely, to prove himself as an individual (until samwell and bitty), Bad Bob loves hockey for the people. Bad Bob took to being on a team like a fish to water and in peewee hockey, Bad Bob got so many penalties because he kept skating onto the rink to participate in cellys even when he was on the bench. (or in the penalty box! Dear, god, bob, you cannot– yup, he’s on the ice again. dammit.). Bad Bob just loves the feeling of being on a team and the connections you make with your teammates and the connections you make with the other team’s players and– look, part of the reason Bad Bob worked so hard at hockey is because leaving that team environment would kill him. (seriously, i bet bad bob has the worst time adjusting to life after the nhl. alicia is probably so worried.)
• Anyway, all this to say, that twitter is made for retired Bad Bob Zimmermann. Suddenly, he can talk to people all day long even if he is alone in his house or even if he is stuck at one of Alicia’s formal events and has to listen to speeches. You know how introverts sneak off at parties to read books on their phone in the bathroom (no? that’s just me?) - well Bad Bob sneaks off to reply to tweets (and text in his Groupme with all his old teammates). 
• Of course, Bad Bob is still pretty freakin’ famous and his constant activity causes a stir and you know how carrie fisher is like the freakin’ twitter queen of the modern day? That’s Bad Bob Zimmermann. He is the Dad of twitter. He retweets funny things about himself and memes and, contrary to popular belief, he is not angling for a commentator or sports analyst job on Sports Illustrated so his filter is literally zero. BBZ is un-ironically the coolest dad ever. 
• Let’s swing to Jack for a second. And I’m afraid I am going to be HELLA cheesey and talk about those 5 Love Languages. I think perhaps the primary miscommunication between Jack and BBZ is that they are not speaking the same love language at all. Bad Bob Zimmermann is literally all about verbal words of praise. With a side of physical touch. That is how Bad Bob gives love. He is alright with however people what to give love to him (to him, Alicia’s laughter at his bad jokes is love and when Jack takes the time to call him, he glows for days afterwards).
• However, the conflict is that that is not how Jack Zimmermann gives or recieves love. Jack Zimmermann works that Quality Time lifestyle. He wants someone to barge in his room and sit on his bed (Shitty), he wants someone to study with him for hours even if they are working on different projects (Bitty), he wants someone to sit with him for hours even if they say practically nothing the whole time (Lardo). When Jack Zimmermann tries to give love, gift-giving comes into play, but his natural state is Quality Time.
• And, unfortunately, that is the one thing that Bad Bob can’t give him. When Jack was growing up, Bad Bob was still away playing for huge chunks of time and then by the time he is retired and home, Jack is playing hockey for hours a day and then on the Q and then before either of them know it, Jack is off to Samwell. 

• Back to twitter though and publicity in general. I think Bad Bob’s instinct is that the more people hear you praise/love someone, the more meaningful it is. To him, affection and praise is not something to be hidden, it’s to be shared. Let’s be real, Bad Bob Zimmermann is that dad who tells the cashier at a grocery store all about his son who plays hockey or his wife who just got elected to the alumni board of her old college (she’s the smart one between the two of us- I just have to stand there and look pretty!) and BBZ was probably bragging about Jack playing hockey since day 1. 
• And, this is where the lines got crossed. For Jack, affection and love is such a private personal thing and so every time Bad Bob was interviewed about his legacy, only to turn it around and talk about Jack and how awesome he was doing, Jack didn’t hear that as excited love and pride. He heard it as pressure. And at some point, his father became synonymous with the media. In terms of: if the media is disappointed, my dad is also disappointed. And if the media is criticizing this, so is Bad Bob. Even though that wasn’t true at all. It’s a thing that happened and the pressure built and Jack’s anxiety rose and–
• They work through it after. Or they try. But Bob does not understand and Jack is not good at explaining and they are trying but it’s not perfect. (Also, now that I’m thinking of this: throwback to Bob offering not to come to Jack’s game. To him, he is trying to be respectful and understand that his presence puts stress on Jack; to Jack, that is another case of quality time that Bob is bowing out of and… ow, i’ve hurt myself. fuck you, petals)  
• OKAY, let’s get to the happy part. So Bad Bob doesn’t always understand his son but when Jack starts talking about a boy in the same tone he talks about hockey, Bad Bob zeroes in on that like a moth to a flame. (Also, how much you wanna bet Bad Bob read all the internet articles on how to support your son coming out or what to do when they bring home a boyfriend and dear god, I bet this loser buys books at one point. I bet BBZ read the entire young adult section of the LGBTQ bookstore. I bet he squeals and has to walk it off when the characters get together.) 
• Bad Bob makes a point to get to know Bitty’s mother because HUGE FAMILY VACATIONS and Bad Bob spends the entirety of Jack’s senior year in hopeful anticipation and then there’s the oven (which the whole team chips in for but Jack warns his parents because it’s going on his credit card and… well… the split was not entirely even) and then–
• Wait, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s swing back to Jack. So Jack has fallen in love with a boy who is also obsessed with social media. (Seriously, Jack, a boy just like your father?? really??) BUT, unlike Bad Bob, Bitty can’t possibly be doing it for the fame or glory. Because… well, Bitty has followers but they follow him just for him. Not for his hockey. And this concept confuses Jack. And he still doesn’t really see the point. 
• But then one day, he hears Bitty laughing as he looks at his phone and he leans over to ask why and Bitty replies that he is just “scrolling through old tweets- do you remember when Shitty made you run your hands through his flow and call it beautiful? I tweeted about it. Good lord, you two are so ridiculous.” and for a moment Jack thinks he has it. “Oh!” he says. “Is that why you do it?” “Do what?” “tweet,” jack tries. “So its like.. you have the memories forever?”
• Bitty is obviously surprised by this level of analysis and interest in twitter and he cautiously explains that, well, yes that’s part of it but also… “I think for me, it’s just a place to be myself, you know? Or to talk with people I probably wouldn’t get to usually.” And… well, that first part probably doesn’t apply to his dad but the second… one of the few things that puts his father in a bad mood is when he doesn’t get a chance to talk to people, whether its because security is holding them back or they are in a rush and, to Jack talking to people is so freakin’ difficult and everyone knows he is a hockey robot but his dad loves people. And Jack had always seen it as looking for fame or attention but… huh. okay.
• Back to BBZ. So he is killing himself senior year holding his tongue and waiting, waiting, and then graduation happens and we all know what happens there and BBZ is probably vibrating with excitement and then-
• And then, Jack tells him that he and Bitty aren’t going to come out. Not at first. And Bad Bob is entirely 100% supportive because he loves people enough to know that some of them are goddamn morons and he knows hockey and he knows the culture and he hates it, but it’s a good move. So he puts his energy to re-tweeting every single good article/tweet/mention of Jack and leaving some snarky one-liners on those who dare say a thing against his boy. And he also happens to retweet and follow one of Jack’s old teammates from Samwell and freaks out when Samwell wins the final four and isn’t that cute? says twitter that Bad Bob still supports his son’s old team?
• Oh, but boy is he ready. Good LORD is this man ready for when Jack and Bitty come out. He can’t wait for the world to see how happy Jack is and one of the first fucking things Bad Bob Zimmermann does when Jack and Bitty finally come out is to go back and find the tweet “Embarrassing story I’ll share with y'all. When I first met Bob Zimmermann I called him “Mr.Bad Bob” then followed up with “Mr.Jack’s Dad.”” (which is literally like six freakin’ years old at this point how did he even find that??) and retweet it with “Should have known then!! :) :) “
• This is followed by every positive article that he can find and every positive tweet he can find and his own spree of old pictures he has of Jack and Bitty on his phone from years of their relationship and all of them are tagged #relationshipgoals even though “that is not what that tag is for, bob! you are married!” Let’s be real, he is still a dad. bad Bob probably changes his icon to a rainbow flag for a bit. And then one of his followers offers to color a picture of him with a rainbow (which really facebook could do but, again, bad bob is a dad so…) Bad bob accepts and screenshots it to send it to Jack (LOOK WHAT SOME COMPUTER GENIUS MADE FOR ME) and Jack is just like… dear god, I am 29 years old and my father makes me want to die.
• (Except not really. Because if we are keeping in this my little universe where bitty’s parents are not supportive, imagine how much all this support means to bitty. Imagine how Bob finds out about the Bittles and goes very, very still and for a moment his eyes look like they did back when he played hockey, back when he was about to drop his gloves and get kicked out of the game completely and dear god, imagine Jack calls Bob for advice on how to help Bity (because god he is so bad at this, he is so useless and this is his fault and– no, son, no just be there for him, I’ll research, hold on–) and Bob has no freakin’ idea but he is retired and has time on his hands and again turns to the internet and reads all the articles and he tries. He tries so hard to help his son and then he tries even harder to help his son-in-law (not technically yet but lets be honest, bad bob has been adopting Jack’s friends from the beginning) and Bad Bob, fellow people of earth. Bad freakin’ Bob. Note to self: write more of this someday. Like Bitty calling Bob and Alicia when Jack is away. Father’s Day. I NEED TO WRITE A FATHER’S DAY FIC. ah, sorry, gotta refocus)
• Imagine the twitter fights bad bob gets into. Honestly. So many. And everyone tells him to just stick to the verified section of twitter and dear god bob, stop reading the comments, and even bitty calls him to say “Mr. Bad Bob, please it’s really okay, we’re fine. You don’t need to-” but bad bob stops listening because he is already firing back at these lil pieces of shit.(At one point, Alicia does have to take away the phone. He had been halfway through a tweet giving people his home address and telling them to meet him and say it to his face.)
• Bad Bob goes on Bitty’s youtube show before Jack and is legitimately terrible but tries so hard and it breaks the internet (and then right as the internet fixes itself Jack goes on and (through Bitty’s twitter) he tweets something snarky about how he was better than his dad at baking and it becomes the Bob v. Jack Twitter throwdown. Chirps fly. Bob calls on his legions of photoshop fans to help him and photoshop him with perfect pies. Jack runs to his kitchen and takes a picture of himself with a pie, claiming that he made it (lies). More chirps. Finally, Bitty steals back his phone and tweets “Zimmermann Men, stop this immediately. Also, Bob, our flight lands at 9, not 10. Jack always thinks he doesnt have to check the email but he does.”
• Okay, I gotta wrap this up: Jack will probably never understand twitter and will never get his own but he understands his dad and they love each other and all is right with the world. The End.

[original Alicia Zimmermann post]

original ask: What are your thoughts on Alicia Zimmermann? Any interesting head canons – especially those involving her total dweeb of a husband?

 

• First, let’s get the basics out of the way: Alicia Zimmermann is probably the smartest person… ever. I mean, she is not a genius like Shitty and she is not a grade-hungry stressball like Ransom- no, Alicia Zimmermann is one of those perfect humans who is born with just the right amount of book smarts partnered with the person amount of street smarts and people skills. A perfect, gorgeous, all-round genius.
• Also, Alicia did not come from a well to-do family. I haven’t thought this all the way through and so I don’t think they were poor but I think Alicia startled modeling in high school to help pay the mortgage on the house (and so maybe her mother could quit that second job) and I think Alicia continued modelling and acting in commercials (pretty terrible ones to be honest, like she was constantly type-cast as the stupid pretty girl in horrible local car dealership commercials but money is money) throughout her time at Samwell because she needed to afford books.
• Lots of books. Alicia Zimmermann probably double majored in Theater and Business and, like Shitty, technically had the credits for a third major in English but Samwell doesn’t allow triple majors. 
• She couldn’t justify the cost of joining a sorority but Alicia was one of those girls that every single sorority wanted and so she ended up being invited to all the sorority events on campus. In fact, she was invited to everything on campus. You know that person who your entire campus knows and it’s a little bit of a celebrity sighting when you see them and then when you actually meet them they AcTUALLY ARE THAT NICE and will REMEMBER YOUR NAME when you meet them again?? (This might just be a small college thing but samwell is small so-) ALICIA ZIMMERMANN IS THAT PERSON.
• Also, the theater department at Samwell is where Alicia realized she actually was good at acting. Like she always knew that someday she would stop accepting the dumb-pretty-girl parts because she planned on stopping acting all together and go off and use her business degree but then she actually fell in love with it. With acting and the theater and modelling and look, during her four years at Samwell, the theater department was basically the Alicia Zimmermann show. Which other students would have been mad about except DAMMIT SHE IS SO FUCKING NICE AND SUPPORTIVE and one time, she purposefully faked an illness because her understudy’s parents were coming in from out of town and had never got to see her act. Dammit, Alicia. Be harder to hate please.
• Seriously, Alicia Zimmermann is this perfect, perfect human who you can’t even hate because she loves dirty jokes and has a potty mouth and is so wicked funny that you aren’t even mad she is better than you. Is she sounding OP right now? THAT’S CUZ SHE IS. ALICIA ZIMMRMANN IS SO OVERPOWERED.
• (The girl plays starcraft in her spare time. Just does. Has a freakin’ sick zerg game. Luckily, she is terrible at LOL. Gotta have some weakness, Alicia.)
• Okay, fast-forwarding a bit. Bad Bob and Alicia Zimmermann meet on a job after college. It’s a short commercial for gatorade and Bob sees her and is immediately smitten (like FULL heart-eyes smitten) and Alicia sees him and is immediately unimpressed. Because this man is such a jock and he is already flirting with everyone (the director, the camera-guy, and oh look, he’s over to flirt with her too. How original.) So she pretends not to notice the giant of a man heading her way and goes to get dressed

• But then, the shoot does not go well. Alicia is dismayed to find out that once again, her costume consists of a too-tight shirt and a too-short skirt and she is going to grit her teeth and bear it because this is a national commercial and her father is sick but she can’t help but hiss out a “did these fuckers really think this was my size” as she sucks in and pulls the skirt up and she did not realize that Bad Bob Zimmermann was right outside the door (already so fucking heart-eyes, honestly, can’t she tell that he stopped flirting with the hella hot camera dude the moment he saw her?) probably wanting to “formally introduce” himself.
• Anyway, the point is, BBZ hears and so when she angrily pulls open the door a second later (cuz, dammit, let’s get this shit over with), Bob is like “Oh! Oh goodness, ma’am, that does look like the wrong size. Oh, gosh- I’ll go ask!” and then Bad Bob Zimmermann moves with all the grace of a huge fucking hockey player on land (read: none at all, he almost knocks over like six things and two whole people) to go inform the director that there has been a costume mistake.
• Of course, there was no mistake and the director tells Bob this and Bob keeps insisting so then Alicia is brought into talk to the director while Bob finally settles down and goes to make up, and, look, she was going to just deal with it but it is freakin’ ridiculous and now that she has been given a platform, she is not going to just stay silent - her temper is shot from being up all night with her crying mother and - “It is ridiculous,” she snaps. “Ridiculous and sexist and–” she is fired mid-ramble. “I can find another girl who would be grateful for this part!” the director tells her and - “So go fucking find one” Alicia says and storms out.
• Because this is fic, she runs into bad Bob on her way out, after she has changed into her actual clothes and Bob looks at her and smiles that dopey smile and “I’m glad that was sorted!” he says. “You look great in the new stuff! Shall we?” and she has to be like “Uh, I was just fired. So… “ and it turns out this Bob Zimmermann character is not a complete idiot because he goes very still and his eyes go stormy and– “Well, then may I take you to lunch?” he asks, extending an arm.
• And, look, Alicia Zimmermann is not surprised by much but this man… “I think they are already bringing another woman in,” she says. “You have to go-” “No,” he replies. “I refuse to be in this commercial without you. Though… well, I guess I do have to let them know. One moment.”
• So then Bad Bob goes and tells Gatorade he will only shoot this commercial if she is in it and the director flips and agents have to be called because this is a fucking big deal, Bob. They are paying you thousands and thousands of dollars and you signed a contract and– “I don’t care. You cannot force me to be in this campaign and I will only do it if she is in it with me. And, Sasha, if this falls through, will you get in touch with Powerade for me?”
• Long story short, Alicia and Bob do the commercial together. She is wearing sensible clothes. He is terrible at remembering his lines and keeps getting distracted by staring at her and then he keeps making her laugh and it is too late for them to go out to lunch by the time the shoot is over, but they go to dinner instead. And then Bob drops her off at home and kisses her on the cheek and promises to call the next day.
• He does. His game goes into overtime and so he has to call from the locker room to make it and so most of what Alicia hears is his entire team chirping him and it is so freakin’ high school that she can’t even.
• Her father dies after she and Bob have only been dating a month. And I think that’s when Alicia realizes that this big, old hockey player is sticking around. Because Bob finishes his game and informs his coaches that he has to miss practice for a family emergency (and obviously at this point he is already Big Bob so no one is going to say anything but still). And then he just handles it so well. He introduces himself to her family so she doesn’t have to and then, maybe for the first time in his life, he fades to the background. He helps cook and clean and herds the small children away and plays with them outside so the adults can have some time alone and when she goes to pay the funeral director, someone already has and Bob has never admitted it, not in the 28 years they have been married, but she knows it was him.
• They don’t exactly see each other too much because she moves to LA and then NYC for work and he is always away playing games so an alarming amount of their early relationship is over the phone (this is before skype, people!) and it’s nice and wonderful and when Bob proposes after only a year and a half, Alicia says yes even though some of her friends tell her that she is crazy.
• They have a huge wedding. Alicia had always wanted a small one and Bob was prepared to give it to her (I read it on the internet, honey, the bride gets whatever she wants) but his face every time she went through and cut people from the guest list was too much for her to handle. So they had a huge wedding and it was worth it to give Bob exactly what he wanted and then they went on a honeymoon, just them for two weeks, and Bob talked to no one but her the whole time.
• (Well, almost the whole time. A few times she had to kick him out because, a woman needs some time alone! go make nice with the pool crew, bob, okay, yes, fine we can go to your new friend doug’s band’s concert at a dive bar tonight.)
• Not to be unromantic, but Alicia and Bob signed a prenup at Alicia’s insistence because “there’s no way you are getting my fortune, dear” and Bob just laughed and signed because “there’s no way we’re needing this but if it makes you happy then yes.”
• Bad Bob does have a temper on the ice and one time, two years into their marriage, he lost it with her. They were both tired and hungry and the Pens had a disappointing end to the season and the airport had lost their luggage and he had yelled and she had stood there quietly. And then when he wound down, she looked him in the eye and very calmly said: “If you ever speak to me that way again, even once, I will leave you. I will not argue with you, you will not get a chance to apologize, and I will not come back.” Bad Bob has never raised his voice at her again.
• In the off-season, Bob works out with Alicia and does all the Yoga, Pilates, step-up videos, and dance workouts she does. Because he misses her when he’s away and holy shit, his wife is fit and this crazy lady on the tv wants them to do how many crunches? baby, please, my abs - WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS ONLY ROUND ONE?
• Please imagine Bad Bob Zimmerman at a curling class, pink sweatband in place, literally dying because he doesn’t believe in the gendering of workouts and he is going to prove it. (but also he is dying. literally dying. please stop laughing with your friends and call an ambulance. no, this is not funny, alicia!)
• Alicia Zimmermann only actually changed her name after Jack was born so they would all have the same name. For years, she kept her maiden name and professionally, that is how she is still known. (And I apologize for not coming up with a maiden name for this whole post- bad me.)
• After Bad Bob retired and Alicia realized that her husband was going to go stir-crazy (like, actually crazy, she had caught him talking to a bird feeder the other day asking why it wasn’t doing a better job at attracting birds), it was her idea to have him re-model the whole house. She called the first painter and had him come and told Bob to stay and pick out the color and when she came home that night to her husband and Dave the painter chatting away, both of their clothes covered with paint, she had smiled and told Bob that yes, of course he could repaint the other rooms in the house.
• Bob ends up doing all the rooms and then re-modelling the kitchen and doing the roof and the landscaping and buying a “fixer-upper” summer home and doing all that house as well before Alicia finally puts her foot down and introduces Bob to twitter. And tells him that he is allowed to just invite Dave, Sandy, and the entirely landscaping crew over for weekly dinners if he wants to. He doesn’t have to pretend to hire them anymore.
• Bad Bob can make Alicia Zimmermann laugh harder than anyone she’s ever met. One time, Bob made her snort wine out of her nose at a formal dinner and she’s never forgiven him but if you don’t think Alicia Zimmermann has the fastest and most biting sense of humor that she just mutters into Bob’s ear constantly, than you are wrong. In fact, she has to be careful because she at least tries to choke back her laughter but Bob just always belly-laughs and it’s often very inappropriate.

Okay, gonna stop there. I apologize that there is not more Jack in this. I need to think longer on their relationship because I don’t have anything ground breaking to add than the way people usually portray it in other fics but you asked this like three days ago so I wanted to give you something! If I come up with more, I’ll post it!

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

so people in the chat mentioned this post and I got to thinking about the SWH Team…

• So I’d imagine that the women’s hockey doesn’t actually much like the men’s hockey team, especially at first. Just because the Men’s Hockey team does get so much freakin’ attention.
• So it’s part resentment, part the fact that, well the Men’s Hockey team can be a little bit obnoxious, and part the fact that at one point the Women’s Hockey Team was forced to have morning practice just because Jack Zimmermann pulls some strings with the men’s coaches and then just when everyone got used to getting up early and getting practice done with, the next semester, they switched back. Like, okay, fine, men’s hockey. just take control like that. it’s fine. not rude at all. whatever. 
• Bitty finds out about this anger (because he sits next to Cat in class and Cat tells everyone everything) and immediately makes the Women’s Hockey Team Apology Pies. He makes Jack help because even not knowing the full situation, he thinks as Captain, Jack should help. 
• This does not go over as well as expected because right as people are about to dig in (and this act would definitely end the hatred because Bitty’s pies have ended many a family fight, including but not limited to, the pig farm debate of ‘07 and the manure madness of 2011), Captain Morgan Swan puts a halt to this. Because this is not Swan’s first time around the block and she knows a freakin’ frat-boy prank when she sees one.
• So despite Bitty’s horrified face that he would never put laxatives in a pie (”ma’am, i would never defile any baked good like that, my god!”) and Jack’s just as horrified, if a good deal less animated, insistence that he would never interfere with a team’s practice, the girls put down their pies and walk away, plotting their revenge (they sort of get it by the fact that the Haus then has to eat 14 pies before they go back and everyone gets sick.)

• In retaliation, the girl’s go into the Men’s Locker Room and destroy it. Well, not destroy it because they would never do anything harmful but they hang pink streamers from the ceiling and replace everyone’s tape with floral pinks and put pink ribbons on everything. 
• This prank is supposed to anger the douchebag jocks of the Men’s Hockey Team but it fails. Because put simply, the Men’s Hockey Team loves this. Shitty is beside himself with joy, Bitty takes some of the ribbons home to put around his room, Chowder steals some for Farmer, Nursey says it matches his look perfectly and even Jack doesn’t really notice it because it doesn’t actually affect hockey at all. Maybe a few people are angry, but if they so much as open their mouth, Shitty is on them about gendering colors and latent sexism and even Dex just shuts up and accepts that this is his life now. He is a hockey player who uses pink tape and gets ready in a pink locker room.
• After their next game, Jack is asked by a reporter whether or not the pink stands for anything and Jack, in true clueless fashion, says “Our Women’s Hockey team did this for us. They are really great and supportive - and play Thursday night. You should come report on them too.”
• And that is the worst thing he could have done because 1. how dare he not see that this was not a sign of support but an ACT OF WAR and 2.THE WOMEN’S HOCKEY TEAM IS NOT SUPPORTIVE –THE MENS TEAM HAS ENOUGH FREAKIN SUPPORT –HOW DARE– 
• Then, the men’s hockey team has the audacity to show up to the game on Thursday. With signs. And banners. And then they cheer. And the little one brings victory mini-pies. And Morgan Swan makes the mistake of eating one and she feels her hatred fading and–
• “Look, ladies, we are only going to this so-called ‘epikegster’ to beat them at beer pong. Do not have a good time. Do not smile. Drink all their beer and for gosh sake’s do not hook up with them. I’m talking to you Nancy. I’ve seen you talking to the tall blond one. Stop that. If any of them flirt with you, punch them.”
• The plan to hate the men’s hockey team fails spectacularly. Because none of the girls get hit on inappropriately (there is one lil freshmen who sort of tries but then he spills his drink on himself and it’s more sad that anything), one of the boys with a mustache spends most of the evening discussing their game in words that could be conceived as sexual harassment but he really is just talking about hockey and interrupts to talk about the inherent injustice of the NWHL wage gap so you can’t hate him and when they lose at Beer pong, it is to Lardo. Who Stacey and Rey spend most of the night trying to convince to come be their manager.
• Even Morgan Swan has a good time. She ends up talking to Jack Zimmermann for a little while. Well, she talks to him for like a minute and it’s nearly impossible but then the baker shows up and suddenly Jack is smiling and conversatoin is flowing and she wants to hate him so badly but she can’t and this is a disaster.
• Somehow she ends up agreeing to a scrimmage with the men’s hockey team. She is disgusted with herself even if her team is pumped and then the whole thing ends up being fun and there is talk of doing a charity co-ed game and it is all awful except it’s also really fun and before you know it the women are going to the men’s game and vice versa and even when the women’s hockey team offers to give all the guys their actual tape back, the samwell men’s hockey team flies their pink colors the rest of the season. 

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

Hey petals I know you're busy and all, but what are your thoughts on the entire team cross dressing for all women's month. You don't really need to talk about it if you don't want to, I'll still love you <3 ~~anonymous user

Hello!!! Thanks for the prompt- here’s what popped into my head:

• They don’t do it for women’s month, they do it for Tango. Really, the boys end up doing a great many things for Tango because Tango has questions and sometimes the internet cannot fully answer those questions so…

• To date, the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team has also: acquired goldfish and attempted to recreate the mythbuster experiment about their memory, attempted to create their own greenhouse in the background for winter gardening, collected and measured lake water v rain water v river water (and yes that included driving out on a saturday to a river and then jumping in the river to pull samples from the middle because what if that’s different too??), and dropped bowling balls off the roof of the house.

• Oh and they also, bought a pizza from every pizza place who delivers to their house at the same time (seriously, 9 laptops were out and everyone clicked confirm simultaneously) then measured when those pizzas arrived and done a taste test of every single bite. It seemed like a fun idea but midway through slice number 6, the boys realize that they still have to eat another 3 pieces (including crust!) so maybe they found out what the best pizza place was but it was for naught because no one wanted pizza for like three months after that.

• (like seriously, all of them tell Tango to just sign up for all the science class and science labs. the boy needs to get his curiosity out somewhere because it is getting unsafe. Bitty had found him, Whiskey, Ransom, and Holster about to go try to “hand feed the swan, Bitty! We have to see if we can BEFRIEND HIM.” “get back in the house with my pie. the thing has almost killed people. No i am not joking with you. move it. right now.”)

• It turns out that Shitty and Tango are a dangerous combination. Shitty rambles in the group chat about something, Tango doesn’t fully understand and then asks a thousand questions and more often then not, despite answers from Shitty, he decides he needs to try it for himself.

• So, back to your point: Shitty is very big on fighting the gender binary, Shitty mentions how clothes are needlessly gendered. Tango gets that look on his face. Tango asks, “So we can wear anything we want?” Shitty says of course! Tango asks, “Well how do I really know what I want?” Shitty says, “Try it!”

• Tango flushes a little bit at that, sputtering about how maybe if he hasn’t had the urge, he shouldn’t bother, but he has that glint in his eye that says he wants to so Whiskey, who has set himself up as Tango’s defender and often comes up with the logistics of his many, many experiments, shrugs and says “if you want, I’ll try some out with you.” (Whiskey has worn dresses for his younger siblings before and knows its not for him, but sometimes a bro in want of wearing a dress needs another bro to do it with him.)

• Lardo says: “anyone who steals and stretches out my clothes is dead to me. And then dead to the rest of the world. Because i will kill you.”

• So it’s off to Goodwill and Goodwill always turns into a thing so the whole gang (illegally) crams themselves into Lardo’s minivan (Tango and Whiskey get shoved in the trunk bc they are tadfrogs). Ransom and Holster shop for their Halloween outfits, Lardo and Dex pick through for actual clothes and Nursey had already been at Goodwill last week (bc Nursey is all about that ironic hipster goodwill life) so he helps Whiskey and Tango find the good stuff. Bitty helps too. 

• Tango seems too nervous to jump straight to dresses so Bitty suggests they get some floral tanktops and skirts that he can wear with a t-shirt if he wants first and then Whiskey finds both of them long, sheer cardigans and Ransom and Holster come bumbling back with jewelry and “look we found oldschool clip on earrings!” and overall it is a great success.

• Of course, then comes the day Tango and Whiskey have actually decided to wear their new clothes. The hockey team is already prepared so when they change after practice, they earn some wolfwhistles and catcalls (because look this is a hockey bro locker room but its all in good fun) and they hadn’t gone all out for their first day (Whiskey is in his regular jeans and a white thin strap tank top with bright purple flowers on it, wearing three bracelets on his left arm; Tango is pulling the t-shirt/skirt look suggested by Bitty, along with some eyeliner that Lardo had done) but it is definitely new. Different.

• “You guys look great,” bitty tells them and he has a little emotional moment over it. That he came to a school where his teammates would try something like this. 

• So, it is Samwell. So nothing bad happens but it is enough to earn a few looks, and Whiskey and Tango have intro to psych together and that professor pulls them aside after class and says that she knows they are part of the hockey team and then very gently reminds them that hazing is not allowed on Samwell’s campus. Whiskey calmly explains that there is no hazing involved, that they are just trying something new but she still look a little concerned, probably because Tango has gone bright red and is stuttering and–

• “Maybe it’s not for me,” he tells Whiskey that night. “I mean… I agree with Shitty but, uh, maybe I just liked my gendered clothes?” “Whatever you want,” Whiskey says. “I dont think the point of any of this is to make yourself uncomfortable.”

• So Tango is ready to accept this as a failed experiment. He usually would like to collect more data (he has enough outfits to last him the week, as per the Experiment Outline) but he’s a freshmen who is sort of trying to blend in with people and so the next day he and whiskey wear regular clothes after practice and Tango mumbles something about “not really liking- uh, well, it was just… a lot.” when the team asks what happened.

• “He needs more support,” Holster declares solemnly to the Haus that night. And so it’s back to goodwill. Most of Bitty’s shorts already qualify as short enough to be a "girls’" anyway but he picks up some of the softest sweaters and necklaces. Ransom and Holster have a bitch of a time finding clothes that will fit them (”Shitty is right!” Holster declares. He’s gotten stuck in a dress again. “This is ridiculous! How do tall girls do this? There are no options!”) Dex seems quiet and uncertain and at one point Ransom is like “Dude, seriously, you don’t have to–” and Dex turns and is like “fuck off! stop assuming I don’t want to do things! I was trying to decide one which of these prints wouldn’t clash with my hair!” and nursey laughs while wondering aloud if rompers would really hurt his balls. Chowder gets lost in the shoe section and keeps trying on ridiculously high heels until Bitty gently pulls him away and reminds him that he is a NCAA goalie and they cannot afford for him to get injured. 

• After failing to find more clip-on earrings, Holster and Nursey get their ears pieced. The lady doing it is very confused when they both decline the traditional fake diamond stud that most guys go for and instead select sterling silver flowers and keeps reminding them that they have to leave this first pair in for at least three weeks and the whole time Bitty is like “fuck we’ve got too far. these idiots have to play hockey and their ears are going to get smashed in helmets” but it happens. And then Ransom does it too. Because matching earrings look like best friend earrings and he is holster’s best friend. Chowder tries but Bitty drags him away. Not his Chowder. Not when pucks are going to be flying at his head.

• SO, Ransom texts Whiskey and tells him to pack what he and Tango had had planned for Day 2 of the original experiment and the boys tell Tango that the tadpoles have to shower last today because… tadfrogs. (have fun with only cold water. yes, we all had to do this. except bitty. for some reason jack let him skip that part) and so when Tango comes out he sees his entire team dressed in traditionally-feminine-but-not-really-because-clothes-dont-have-a-gender clothing.

• Imagine with me: Bitty in his shorts but with a crop top sweater that is too long in the arms so it pools around his hands while still showing a sliver of abs. He is wearing a big chunky necklace and a flower headband that he found. Dex is wearing plaid, but it is purple and pinks and underneath it is a girl’s tank top that keeps riding up to reveal his happy trail. Nursey has decided to risk the romper and has stuffed all his books for the day into a purse. He didn’t shave but he does have eyeshadow and eyeliner on. Chowder… well Chowder is a mix of things because he’d wanted to wear his new skinny jeans but also a skirt and so Lardo showed him the wonder of leggings so its leggings and a skirt and a loose top and a red suit jacket with shoulder pads on shoulder pads and the small sensible heels that Bitty had let him buy. He’d also stolen the clipon earrings that are way way too big. Like Grandma broach earrings. They are maybe supposed to be ladybugs? 

• Ransom is wearing a summer dress with a denim button on thrown over it and his traditional snapback. Holster had to cut the arms off his loose cardigan because his muscles would not fit through them (so its more a fashion vest) and the shirt has wound up being a crop top and the shorts really are almost indecently short but he is ready to go.

• Lardo dressed up for the occasion. Full lady suit. Top hat. Skinny tie. The girl basically looks too hot and 99% of people in her class that day literally cannot even.

• Tango is thrilled and he pulls on his skinny jeans and hot pink top that only has one sleeve and Whiskey’s mouth quirks up on one side (which it normally only does when he is talking on the phone with his family) as he pulls on the button-down style dress and let’s bitty put on the thick belt with an owl buckle for him and off they go. The Samwell Men’s Hockey Team ready to take on the world.

• (Sidenote: They send a picture to the group chat, aka to Shitty and he is so angry that they didn’t think to do this when he was there that he calls Jack crying. Jack promises him they will do it just the two of them next time he is in town and yes, i’ll take you shopping, shits. yes, we can go to anthropology and you can buy whatever you want. yes, i promise you will be prettier than all of them. no, you cannot drive down now. you have an exam tomorrow remember? you told me about it yester– shitty, you’ve got to stop crying.)

• (Sidenote to the sidenote: Once he has Shitty semi-calm, Jack goes and looks at the picture for a looooong time and finally texts bitty to please send a picture of just himself for Jack to stare at and omg omgomg how long did you say you were doing this? all week??? Is bitty trying to kill him?????)

• Unfortunately, the samwell men’s hockey team can only afford to do this for about a week as they run out of clothing and in the original Experiment Plan that Whiskey typed up (for Tango to approve) a week was the goal. They close out the experiment with a kegster where they all wear their tightest and most revealing clothing (”dear god, how do girls move in this? I have to sit down and I cant!!!” “don’t talk to me bro, I can’t breathe and when I tried to pick up our ping pong ball from the ground, I mooned people.” “thank fuck we started doing squats.” “we really should start doing them in heels. it makes it like 500x times harder” “good plan”)

• The results of the experiment? Well, Holster takes his earrings out pretty much right away (”white guys really can’t pull them off Holtzy” “i know, i know, they’re killing me anyway” “I know, i can hear you crying in the bathroom when you have to turn them.”), Ransom decides to keep just one. Nursey keeps both, flowers included and almost all of his clothes (minus the romper, turns out those do hurt his balls and peeing is too much of a hassle). Ransom and Holster give most of the clothes back to goodwill because, really, they did not fit, but both claim that they are going to start looking for stores designed for taller people. Whiskey sends most of his to his sisters but keeps a few of the cardigans for himself; Tango decides he’s never giving up leggings and a few of the v-necks looked rather good didn’t they? And who knew bracelets could be so fun?

• Whenever Chowder sees anyone in bits and pieces of their new clothing, he thinks they are back on and has to be stopped from rushing home to change because he’s kept all his clothes (and picked up a few more- did you know that Sharks’ gear comes in lady cuts and lady sizes and some of them have pink accents??!!!!!) 

• Oh, Bitty? Well, Bitty keeps all of them too because, well, let’s just say the texts he got from Jack indicated an alarming amount of interest…

• (A few weeks later, Jack texts a picture of him and Shitty both wearing dresses and good lord, Jack’s butt and oh it is on Jack Zimmermann. Cue sexting and quite the epic reunion when they finally get to see each other.)

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

So, obviously, the Year 4 in this title refers to Bitty’s Year 4. But, I was thinking about the hcs that holster and jack weren’t that close at first (and maybe aren’t particularly close now) and I got to thinking about how they could become closer (BC ALL MY BOYS MUST BE BEST FRIENDS, SORRY NOT SORRY) and, well, here we go:

• So, it is Jack’s second year in the NHL which means a few things: 1. He is more used to the workload; 2. He is a lot less stressed about playing in general, he has his team and his likes his team and he thinks one day he will be captain, but for now he doesn’t have too many extra responsibilities. His team has his back, his relationship with Bitty is awesome, life is good for Jack Zimmermann.
• Bitty is a senior, though. He is a Senior and he is Captain of the Samwell Men’s Hockey team (and, privately, Bitty is starting to think that they should always have two people for the job because good lord is it a lot of work). He has help but he has a lot to do and he is applying to jobs and finishing his American Studies Thesis (or… well, he should probably start on that soon) and the point is Bitty and Jack are strong as ever, but Bitty actually doesn’t have time to talk to Jack for hours a day.
• And Jack understands that. But it does mean that he finds himself with a few more free hours a day than he is used to.
• Seriously. There is now a chunk of time after morning practices or before night games that used to be filled by listening to Bitty butcher the French language or working out a hair more than he should that are now just… free.
• And it is then, finally, that Jack remembers all the Television shows Holster always tried to get him to watch. Or, rather, he recalls that they existed. he doesn’t actually remember the names.
• Hence the first fateful text: ‘Hey, Holster– what was that show about english people you wanted me to watch? Something about a butler?’
• Holster receives this text while working in an econ-related job (in a cubicle) that he is starting to realize might be the most boring thing that has ever happened to him. He blinks at it and replies immediately, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’
• Jack: ‘There was a dog named ISIS that they had to kill off. You cried and Bitty made you your own mourning pie.’
• Holster (after face palming; both because Jack should KNOW downton abbey and because, actually, his description was one that Holster should have recognized): ‘OOhh! You mean Downton Abbey!!!!!!’
• Jack: ‘Cool, thanks. I’m going to watch it.’
• A few more things about Adam Holster Birkholtz at this point: 1. He is working with accountants. 2. He is rooming with Ransom who is in his first year of med school. 3. Holster literally loves TV more than anything else in the world– So combine these things together and you have a Holster who is a little bit bored at work, a little bit lonely, AND So FUCKING EXCITED THAT JACK ZIMMERMANN IS FINALLY GOING TO WATCH A SHOW HE RECOMMENDED!!! (because GODDAMM, he was just trying to bring joy to people’s lives).
• So instead of texting back something like ‘Haha, happy to help.’ Holtzypoo responds: ‘DUDE YESSS LIVE TEXT ME EVERYTHING!!’
• And Jack, also slightly bored and a little bit lonely, texts back: ‘Okay will do. I already found it on Amazon Prime. I like that the episodes are a full hour.’
• And Holster smiles at that and puts his phone down, expecting that Jack probably won’t ‘live text’ him the episodes. He probably doesn’t even know what that means.
• But, then, 2.5 hours later, Holster gets a text. ‘Dude, a guy just died on Mary during sex! at least we never had that happen at the Haus, eh?’

• Holster is already texting back a million things and he always thought that maybe Jack was a little annoyed by him, or didn’t see the purpose in TV shows, but Jack responds to all his questions and shares his opinions and when Holster gets home that night at 5 to find Ransom still out studying, he texts ‘Tell me what episode, we’ll watch together!’ and it becomes a thing.
• Jack starts waiting until 5 or 6 to watch an episode so he can Holster can watch “together” (still over text mostly but they do call each other and coordinate so they hit play at the exact same time so Holster doesn’t accidentally spoil Jack); Holster doesn’t watch ahead when Jack has games. 
• Looking back at their private convo, there are only like 4 brief conversations from 3 years of going to college together, but by midway through season 2 of Downton Abbey, they have sent hundreds of messages and, sure, sometimes Jack’s history nerd comes out and the messages are long rambles about the historical accuracy or inaccuracy of the show; and sometimes Holster links the show to cultural things that Jack doesn’t get (aka talking about the actors in other roles. always a failure) but for the most part, they just enjoy the show together.
• Holster actually comes down for the Series Finale. Ransom has a big med school exam anyway and Bitty has midterms so Jack and Holster make a weekend of it. They both cry. 
• After Downton Abbey, it’s Game of Thrones. Then Sense8 (Jack is skeptical and does NOT get it at first, but hes learned to trust Holster and obviously ends up loving it). Then Holster bumps them back into historical stuff for The Tudors.
• Holster comes down for the weekend again when he wants Jack to start Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He worries that Jack won’t make it through the initial hokiness without direct pressure. (He does. He loves it).

• Okay, look so basically these boys watch a lot of TV together. 
• BUT, great friendships are built on TV. And when you are texting a dude for about an hour every other night or so, eventually other things come out. 
• Holster winds up telling Jack how he doesn’t really love his job; Jack mostly just listens before noting that Holster is ‘so good with people’ that it seems like he should try to do something ‘you know, with people, man.’
• Jack tells Holster how it kind of sucks that Bitty has been so busy; Holster says ‘dude, why not offer to talk hockey with him. i know i loved when ransom and I talked things out– made it easier to make decisions.’ (and Jack is a little !!! at that because for him, hockey works best when he is by himself and concentrates but he offers next time he and Bitty are talking on the phone and the next afternoon, Bitty calls him to continue their discussion and ‘Thanks man,’ Jack texts. ‘Totally worked– Watch episode 7 tomorrow?’ (Holster sends back a series of emojis. Jack has gotten a little bit better at deciphering them but not by much. He smiles anyway.)
• Alright, ALSO, (let’s just go all the way with this shall we), Holster mentions (or doesn’t mention) Ransom enough that Jack notices.
• ‘Are you and Rans doing something tonight?’ Jack will ask and almost always (even on the weekends); Holster will say, ‘Nah, dude is mad stressed. Just chilling. I’m going to try to get him to play some madden to unwind on saturady night.’
• And before, Jack had always sympathized with Ransom (and, don’t get him wrong, he still does) but… Holster’s replies to his questions get shorter. And Holster almost never mentions Ransom, except to say he is studying. And Holster is always available to watch TV with him. Which strikes Jack as odd considering Holster loved his TV, but also Holster went to all the parties on Samwell’s campus.
• Finally, one of the weekends Holster comes down, Jack risks saying something directly. Because, as a captain he had tried not to get involved in people’s personal lives (because, god, he hated when people dug into his when he was playing on the Q) but he started to see his senior year, how that was a bad thing, and more than that, he is not Holster’s captain anymore, he is Holster’s friend and sometimes… sometimes you need people to push. At least to let them know that you are listening. 
• so, “Dude, how are things with Ransom?” Jack asks. “He seems like really busy.” There. Enough that Holster can add if he wants too. But he can just as easily agree quickly and back away.
• “Oh,” Holster replies, sounding surprised. “Oh, well, he has med school so… so, yeah, dude, I don’t know. It kinda sucks to be honest.”
• I can’t turn this into a real fic rn, but BASICALLY- Holster opens up a bit and Jack listens while offering Holster a beer and Holster gets sad and quiet and it sort of sucks (because admitting that you are a little bit lonely even though you live with your best friend is really weird; and admitting that your best friend is kinda hurting your feelings? well, that is just… not great).
• But it is not totally bad because Jack just listens and agrees and when Holster stops ranting a little bit to say: “But, dude, ignore me. I mean, he’s working really hard and I’m just whining so… yeah, you know. I probably shouldn’t be so annoying about it. I can–” Jack stops him.
• Jack stops him and tells him, “Hey, no. You know that thing about… anxiety and having it is that sometimes you get… off-balance. Like, you think if you just pour all your energy into this one thing, then it will all be under control.”
• “Well, he’s certainly doing that,” Holster says. “And he hasn’t actually had that many panic attacks so–”
• “No, but, that doesn’t mean he’s happy,” Jack says. “Believe me- obsessing over one thing isn’t actually that cool. It’s not a good coping technique. It sounds like he’s…. tilted. He’s doing all this school work but neglecting everything that makes him actually happy. It’s not actually controlling the anxiety. It’s giving into it.”
• Holster is quiet for a while. Not in a judging way, just in a “thinking it over way.” Jack takes the opportunity to take a sip of his beer and try to think of his words came out right. 
• Abruptly, he realizes there is one thing he forget and so he adds: “Also, dude, just because he is stressed, doesn’t mean he gets to just ignore you all the time. That’s not… You are right to be annoyed.” 
• Holster fidgets even harder at that. 
• “I’m just saying,” jack says. “He probably doesn’t even realize it and he’ll probably feel really bad once he does.”
• Holster nods slowly. Still doesn’t say anything. Then, finally, “So… so you don’t think he’ll be pissed if I drag him away?” Holster asks. “I just don’t wanna interrupt, you know? When he’s doing important shit.”
• “No,” Jack says. “I think… well, I was never really mad at Shitty freshmen year when he dragged me away from hockey. Or anyone else.”
• “Dude, you were mad at us sometimes.” Holster is smiling so Jack doesn’t worry about the accusation. It was true. Up to his junior year, he was probably still too intense about hockey. But, it was a work in progress. 
• “Okay, well, now I’m never annoyed when Bitty calls,” he says. “And, you know, I think I’ve figured out more of the balance.”
• “You have time to watch tv with me,” holster says, offering the neck of his beer bottle. 
• “Exactly,” Jack says, tapping his beer against Holsters. “I think Ransom would appreciate you dragging him away.”

• The next weekend, Jack gets a text from Holster: ‘You can watch the next one without me, Ransom and I are going camping. No electronics! No textbooks!’
• ‘I’ll wait,’ Jack texts back. ‘Have fun!’
• Sunday afternoon: ‘I got eaten alive by mosquitos. Ransom won’t stop laughing that he didn’t get bit once. #worstroommateever’
• After a while, they don’t get to watch as much TV together. Holster is usually busy with Ransom on the weekends (and he’s started a part-time job as a hockey coach); The Falconers start the playoffs; Jack and Bitty take to talking more and more strategy as SMH gets closer and closer to the Frozen Four again. But when they go a whole week without watching anything, Jack get’s a text that says ‘Bro. TV Balance is off. Next Episode of Firefly in 20mins.’ and he explains the situation to Bitty, who laughs at him and tells him to say hi for Holster for him.
• They watch Firefly and text.
• Jack even uses some emojis.

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

• So, let’s all turn our attention to Lardo, Samwell’s resident “I am better than you at literally everything” manager. While much attention has been given to Bitty and how he will handle Jack’s graduation, Lardo is also going to have to deal with a Shitty-less existence. (at least at Samwell)
• Okay, in Lardo’s head, she has kept the balance between hockey-friends and art-friends pretty 50/50. Like, yes, she and Shitty hung out a lot last year but she is still really close to her art friends because they have three hour art classes together and the bonds between folks who stare at the same still life for three hours cannot be broken.
• Neither can the bonds between those who scramble to actually finish pieces before the show opens in panic and– oh, wait… Shitty helped her with that. And all the hockey boys came to the art show and, no, they had no idea what was going on but they tried and they supported her and she didn’t realize it but she hasn’t quite forgiven her art friends for muttering about “the dumb jocks” that “only came for the free booze.”
• (Seriously, when did the free spirited art crowd get so… judgmental? Senior year starts and suddenly no one wants to come visit her at the Haus and why is it that the hockey guys are always down to try new things but when she mentions that they should come get out and see a game, she gets sort of scoffed at.)
• Okay, back to the point. The point is that Lardo finds the beginning of her senior year to be… strange. In her head she is an art-kid who happens to hang out with the hockey bros but she stops getting invited to everything and then when she does go she feels like she’s on the outskirts and–
• Maybe it was a mistake to live in the Haus. It’s another degree of separation from her art friends (another thing she does that’s different) and Shitty isn’t even there. So it’s not like she pictured it. It’s not getting high with Shitty and talking shit on the roof. It’s… Shitty was her person. On the team. It was Ransom and Holster and Bitty and Jack and Nursey and Dex and Chowder was happy with everyone and now hangs out with Bitty a fair amount and she hangs out with Bitty too, she fucking loves Bitty but he is on his phone or skyping a lot these days (she’ll let him keep lying for as long as he wants but honestly)–
• What I’m getting at here is that Lardo spends September awkwardly lonely. Trying to force friendships with art people she doesn’t really connect with anymore, missing Shitty, and feeling more morose than she should be. Of course, she assumes that no one notices because she is Lardo. Silent and surly and too-cool-for-you are her things. Everyone is too busy doing their own thing and she will balance this eventually and be fine, she just has to stop being so freakin’ melodramatic.
• Enter Ransom and Holster.

• Ransom and Holster, for all their goofing around and planning kegsters and dedication to creating the greatest “best friend handshake of all time” are freaking amazing at being co-captains. Think about it: These are two boys that together have networked with Samwell’s entire campus. Ransom keeps excel sheets on everything under the sun while balancing a 4.0 and starting on the hockey team and being Ransom. Holster has memorized every sitcom ever and manages to keep all the Real Housewives straight. Which is just as impressive when you think about it.
• The point is: Ransom and Holster take being co-captains of this hockey team seriously. They know they can’t live up to Jack but Jack’s advice to them had been to “create your own style, have fun with it” so that is just what these two idiots do. They put a better sound system in the locker room, they focus on the team’s social life more than ever, they hold secret conferences to keep tabs on the wellbeing of all their players and players includes Manager Lardo so…
• “Bro,” Ransom says, frowning at the excel sheet in front of him. “I know we said we were going to have to keep an eye on Bitty with Jack gone but…” “I know,” Holster replies. “The other day I was talking to Brian who told me that Claire told Lany that Lardo hasn’t even turned up to their art… poetry parties.” “She only played two rounds of beer pong last Friday.” “Bro.”
• With that Operation “Make Sure Lardo Has a Fucking ‘Swawesome Senior Year” is launched. Ransom and Holster take to barging into her room when she is trying to work, they risk death and take to picking her up and dragging her places, they create a system for punishing their teammates and put her on the jury with them (”to ensure there can never be any case of a tie vote”).
• Of course, pulling Lardo completely into the hockey sport bro culture isn’t fair so Ransom and Holster start auditing an Art History class (Ransom studies more than anyone else in the class; he makes flashcards as if memorizing all the art of the 1900s will help the situation) and force Nursey to explain poetry to them and then when they feel ready, they take the plunge into the Samwell Art World.
• Poetry slams! Experimental Theater Performances! Dance Recitals! Art shows! They take Lardo to all of them. They even wear suits. It’s a bit ridiculous and they don’t really use the vocab correctly but they try and it’s adorable and it’s somehow all the sweeter that 9 times out of 10 they find it all super weird and boring.
• Holster uses his network to find out what art parties are happening and he and Ransom begin accompanying her. They disappear if it becomes obvious she is actually having a good time and no longer needs them; if the art people are being too arty even for her (or, heaven forbid, they say something about posers or say anything against her living situation), they make a point of destroying all the art kids at beer pong and then leaving with her on their shoulders. Sometimes after stealing (or drinking) all the alcohol in the house. 
• Oh, they also create a new beer pong game where you are in teams of three so that she always has a team. (The three of them start a winning streak the like of which has never been seen before on Samwell’s campus. They make The Swallow)
• Admittedly, they go a little overboard in those first few weeks. But gradually, it fades to something more natural and it’s not that Holster, Ransom, and Lardo weren’t friends before but it was in a more casual sense. Lardo had Shitty to handle deeper conversations about life and such. The boys aren’t going to pry at all but there are only so many time three bros can get drunk without some deep emotional shit happening and so it becomes commonplace, after the tadpoles head back to their dorms and dex and nursey pass out in Chowder’s room, and Bitty has disappeared to talk on skype, for the three of them to sit out on the balcony (sometimes all crammed into that swing that creaks under their weight alarmingly) to sit and talk about life and love and graduation fears and whether or not to bring Bitty up on pet name charges.
• So, yes, they are still RansomandHolster but more and more, they become RansomHolsterandLardo. The Trifecta. Tango and Whiskey assume that all three have been best friends for all four years.
• Lardo does balance it out. She finds the cool art kids to hang out with and Bitty calms down with the constant phone calls but, in the end, she ends up relying on Holster and Ransom more than she thought she would.
• When graduation rolls around, there is no question who she will sit with during the ceremony. 

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

somebody tell me about the Check Please AU where they’re all artists and Lardo is an athlete but still their manager

Okay, you ready for some headcanons from someone who knows NOTHING ABOUT ART?? Cause here it comes:

The thing is, Lardo doesn’t set out to be some sort of “patron of the arts.” But she goes to the Olympics at 16 as a Gymnast and wins 4 Gold Medals and then she goes again at 20 to win 5 and, sure, she only wins 2 when she is 24 but the end result is this: She is rich. She has sponsors on sponsors and is famous even aside from the two weeks every four years that people really care about her sport and–

She has too much money, is the point. She has too much and so she decides that she might as well go support some of the arts. she can’t draw a stick figure but she likes art. More specifically, she likes artists. They are very different from the people in the gymnast world. They are chill. Sure, they get stressed but that is like only right before a deadline. The rest of the time they are totally awesome. At least, the ones she’s collected are. You have:

Jack Zimmermann, son of world famous artists, Bad Bob Zimmermann and model, Alicia Zimmermann. Bad Bob is known for his paintings but try as he might, Jack could never quite manage to paint particularly well. For a while he put away all artistic pursuits and figured he would just go into like… accounting. Something boring. Then he discovers photography. And he loves photography and suddenly everything that his parents had tried to teach him makes sense. Angles, lighting, coloring, it all clicks. He is known for taking stunning photographs of historical sites, but also loves nature photography (and once he meets a certain someone, will realize the beauty of love and volunteer his time to do wedding photography…)

Shitty is classically trained. Like, he was put in an art school at age 4 because his parents are those parents (aka they wanted him to be artistic but didn’t want to deal with him making noise as he learned an instrument) and to his personal disappointment, he was very good. He was privately tutored throughout grade school and then sent to an Art Academy for High School and it wasn’t until college that he finally found an art form he truly likes: Web Comics. Shitty put away his paint brushes and pencils and classical training and now writes the webcomic “Fucking Shit, bro.”

Ransom didn’t set out to be an artist but his anxiety constantly had him swiping his pencil back and forth in his notebook and then it also made him realize that the smudges looked terrible on his notes and so it made sense to make them look nice and then suddenly that became a calming mechanism to get everything just so and long story short: Ransom does incredibly realistic pencil drawings. Each drawing takes hours and hours but he doesn’t mind. He calms down when he’s drawing.

Under a cut cause, goodness, this got long!

Holster does not have Ransom’s patience. Holster is a designer. Mostly set design with some wardrobe thrown in. When Lardo decides to throw an exhibit, Holster takes over where everything should go and how high the pictures should be places from the ceiling and the wall and there is nothing Holster loves more than going on rants about how the paint on the walls is just wrong and how dare someone even attempt to hold an exhibit in this space. With this lighting! One day he wants to work set design for a sitcom. But for one like Community where he might be expected to make a pillow fort every other week.

Like Ransom, Bitty also learned art through doodling. Growing up, he didn’t fit in. He wasn’t big enough for football, despite what Coach always wanted; he didn’t even care about watching sports and he just… life was easier in his room. Where he could be alone and draw and even at school, if he kept his head down and focused on drawing, he could ignore almost everything the other students were saying. (He couldn’t ignore the day they found his sketchpad, the day they realized that most of his drawings were of people. Of boys. But he… it was a long time ago. He destroyed some of his art and hid the rest of it and he’s okay. It was a long time ago. He doesn’t think about it.)

Bitty never thought that anything could come of his art. Sometimes he thinks he’s pretty good, especially with paint, especially when painting portraits, but he hasn’t let anyone see his art in ages and he’s probably not that good. But when he goes to college, he feels safe enough to at least sketch in the corner of the cafeteria and suddenly a tall, mustached boy is leaning over and telling him that that is “fucking awesome” and would he be willing to do a guest panel for his comic and “dude, you like portraits– do you need models?? I know like a million people- come hang out at our Haus!!” The rest is history.

(Jack is jealous at first because Bitty is as good with paint as his father is and he thinks Bitty’s portraits manage to capture something in people that not even Jack’s photographs can and he doesn’t even know how Bitty does it and– They get along eventually. They get along very well.)

Chowder does animation. He is known for creating the cutest characters of all time. He’s worked on all the major Pixar projects but wanted to produce his own movie about sharks. Lardo decided to fund it.

Dex does sculpting. Some clay and wood (especially when he was just starting because money), but when Lardo pays for Marble to be put in front of him, he just… He is the next Michelaneglo, according to some. Really, he is good with stone because he can work out his anger that way. And he has a lot because…

Nursey is a 3D artist as well. Except he is modern 3D artist. Aka he makes “random cubes and expects people to be impressed like they are fuCKING CUBES” (dex’s words). Nursey and Dex work really well together. Both hate to admit it.

And, finally, The Tadpoles:

Tango and Whiskey. Aka Hair and Makeup. They work as a team because try as he might, Whiskey cannot be bothered to talk to their clients. But Tango will. Tango will sit down and talk to them for twenty minutes about what their vision is and how they want to feel for the occasion and even if they are doing stage makeup, it’s all “what are your characters primary traits?” If you looked at Whiskey’s face during these interviews, you would think he wasn’t paying attention, but he is. And he appreciates Tango’s questions. Because at the end of the day, Whiskey’s makeup is always perfect and Tango’s hair never falls out of place, even if it is your wedding and you’ve been dancing for 5 hours. 

Chapter Text

[original tumblr post]

Ask: Ok so that OMGCP/TW crossover is hard for me to imagine EXCEPT if it's just an underscore of how different the realities/tenor of the story is. SMH being like WOO NATIONALS AND COMING OUT and being all bright colored and stiles and Scott just looking at them across the street being like "it must be great not worrying about monsters constantly. Ain't that the life, those fuckers." And maybe Whiskey is actually a were. 

I am not writing a CP/TW crossover, but I do really like considering how the different characters would react to the other’s problems.

Like, Scott, probably sits on the steps next to Bitty one night and just listens to why Bitty is worried about telling his parents (even though he is pretty sure they will be fine with it, he is pretty sure they must at least suspect, he doesn’t know why he is being such a wimp and he should just do it and–) and Scott doesn’t even really consider talking about how actually he is sitting on the step because he is waiting for his stomach to knit itself back together because he had been attacked by some sort of demon earlier that night. Instead, Scott just sits and listens and assures Bitty that his feelings are valid and there isn’t any rush and the whole time he is worrying that he is saying the wrong things because, goodness, for all his problems, he has never had to worry about something as stupid as homophobia in Beacon Hills!

As they are winding down, Stiles probably bursts out and “Scott, I have something,” he says gruffly and he looks exhausted because he has been researching all night and he is back inside before Bitty can give him so much as a “how do you do?” but Scott takes the time to tell Bitty that he can talk whenever he wants and Danny on their team is gay and oh! his mom is a nurse and also, like, the best mom ever so Bitty can call her too, if he wants and– “Scott, seriously,” Stiles calls from the house. And then Scott has to leave. 

Bitty doesn’t see the lax bros for a few days after that but soon after, they find Stiles (or more accurately, Stiles fails to make it all the way to the lax house because he is limping and bleeding from a head wound) and Bitty is worried sick because Stiles is bleeding and had already soaked through one kitchen towel and he wants to help but Scott, who had seemed so friendly before, firmly pushes Bitty out of the lax house and tells him not to worry about it. 

Stiles knocks on the door a few days later, eye complete black and surrounded by an open cut and he looks.. uncomfortable standing there, especially when it’s not Bitty who opens the door. It’s Holster and Ransom who are glaring because they know a lax bro when they see one but then they see his face and the careful way he is holding himself and–

“Uh, is Bitty here?” Stiles asks. He does not seem at all concerned with the two giants standing over him. 

“Yeah,” Ransom says. And then frowns suspiciously because the lax bros are weird this year. Like… dangerous weird. “Why?”

“Scott says– just giving him his towel back,” Stiles says. “Uh, he– I got it a little dirty the other night. But we washed it. Twice.”

Anyway, so Ransom and Holster get Bitty and Bitty is a little surprised because Scott seemed friendly enough and Danny had said hello in the library but this one, Stiles, is always busy and glares him away when he tries to be friendly and–

“Sorry,” Stiles says as he hands it back. He looks an odd mixture of nervous and reluctant to even be talking to Bitty. “Um, I tried to get all the stains out. My dad’s a sheriff so I’m pretty used to blood stains but uh… there was a lot.”

“Oh,” Bitty says. He is just as surprised that this is happening. “Oh, that’s okay. I didn’t– don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I saw it was Williams and Sonoma,” Stiles replies, as if it’s completely natural to look at the tags of a towel soaked in blood. “That’s the good kind so I wanted to make sure to give it back. Though, uh, I can get you a new one. If you’d rather.”

His shoulders hunch in the slightest bit. Just like Dex’s do when Nursey suggests a restaurant that is too expensive. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Bitty says instinctively. “It was a gift from my boyfriend anyway. He’s given me like a thousand.”

“Oh,” Stiles says, nodding politely. “Cool. Well, thanks again. For letting me borrow it. And for, you know, getting me over to Scott’s. Sorry for the mix-up.”

“No problem,” Bitty says. “Is everything handled then?”

Stiles jumps at the question. Bitty tries again: “I mean, are you okay? You… you’re not going to run into them again?”

“Them?” Stiles asks dumbly.

“The ones that… well, did that too you,” Bitty explains, waving a hand at Stiles’ face. “I mean, it’s none of my business and you just go ahead and tell me to shut up whenever you want but, well… I’m no stranger to bullying myself and, uh, that is one heck of a shiner.”

“Bullying?” Stiles repeats. “No, I wasn’t– wait, you were bullied?”

He sounds honestly surprised by the notion. Bitty blushes.

“Back in high school and middle school,” he offers. “So I know what it’s like. Got locked in a utility closet overnight once.”

Stiles’ eyes flash darkly. “What the fuck. What assholes.”

It’s blunt and honest and it makes Bitty laugh. Because he can laugh about it now. Well, not laugh about it but it sometimes strikes him as totally bizarre. How far he’s come.

“I was a very gay boy in Georgia,” he says. “I don’t actually know who specifically did it, to be honest. There were a lot of suspects. Not a big deal– though I was terrified of small spaces for the longest.”

Stiles goes very quiet then…

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I got locked in a basement once… they still kind of freak me out.”

“Nothing good comes out of a basement,” Bitty says, shaking his head. “Lord, I used to have nightmares about mine. Used to be impossible to tell if I was asleep or awake!”

“You count your fingers,” Stiles says.

“Pardon?” Bitty asks.

“In nightmares,” Stiles explains. “If you count your fingers in a nightmare, you’ll always have the wrong amount. That’s how you know you’re dreaming.”

And Bitty blinks because he was talking about nightmares he had when he was like seven and Stiles’ voice has gone soft and serious and–

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, well, I–”

“I used to get really bad nightmares,” Stiles says, voice sliding… darker again. It makes Bitty feel like he is out of his depth. Stiles looks over and seem to read something on Bitty’s face. At least the next moment, he is leaning away and his eyes are shuttering closed and– “Um. I mean. yeah. That used to help. If you… get them again. Okay, I’ve got to go. Sorry about the towel again.”

“No problem,” Bitty says but Stiles is already hiking up his backpack protectively and heading out the door. 

*^*^*^

Gradually, Bitty gets closer to the lax bros. Or at least to the crew that seems to hang around Scott- Scott, Danny, Stiles, Lydia, Allison. At least, he gets to know them well enough that he gives them a little wave at early team breakfast and doesn’t feel awkward saying hi in the library. A few times that everyone else is in class, he has even risked sitting with them. Which sometimes works. And sometimes causes all of them to slam books shut and then find excuses to leave in the next 10 minutes that sound pretty fake. But Scott always apologizes and Allison always smiles so Bitty thinks it is more of “they are talking about lacrosse and don’t want to bore me” rather than “they hate me.”

It’s still a surprise when Bitty is sitting alone one day in the library and Stiles slides into a seat next to him.

“Sorry about the invasion of privacy,” he says by way of introduction. Of all the strange boys Bitty has met in college, Stiles might be the strangest. Bitty didn’t even hear him approach! “But I think I know who they are.”

“Who who are?”

“The bullies,” Stiles says. “The ones who locked you in the utility closet.”

“Uh… what?” 

“I did some investigating”- and yup there it is, he’s pulling out a file. “And these are our main suspects. A few have some police records– nothing major, just speeding tickets for the most part, one has a restraining order from an ex-girlfriend– but judging by facebook and some other factors, I think this is them.”

Bitty’s mind feels a little fuzzy.

“Err… okay?” He makes it a question. It is a question. He recognizes the names that Stiles puts in front of him but he doesn’t actually care. It was years ago. He’s moved on.

“Well?” Stiles seems to be expecting something. 

“Well, what?”

“Well, do you want me to destroy them?” Stiles asks. “I mean… nothing too major. But we could have a bunch of parking tickets suddenly appear or perhaps they get signed up for a bunch of junk mail to their formal e-mail accounts or delete their email accounts, that’s a pain. Or maybe computer viruses! We can do that and–”

“STILES!” Scott comes running into the library while Bitty is still staring in something like horror. “Stiles, I told you no!”

Scott throws an arm over Stiles’ shoulder and grabs at the files in front of Bitty and pulls them over to their side of the table.

“Stiles, I told you he doesn’t want to get revenge,” Scott says.

“I was just asking!” Stiles says, his voice going into something like a whine. “I didn’t do anything yet!”

“And you won’t!” Scott says. “Bitty doesn’t want you to. Do you?”

The last question is directed at Bitty. Bitty blinks. Scott looks concerned. Stiles looks vaguely hopeful.

“N-no,” Bitty says, still a bit confused. This might even be freakier than Holster and Ransom threatened to punch a guy because he muttered something under his breath that they thought might have been about Bitty. This is… this is straight up crazy shit, pardon his language. “No, I don’t need you to get revenge.”

“Oh, come on,” Stiles says. “Don’t you want just a little–”

“You heard him,” Scott says, heaving upwards. Stiles pouts but let’s himself be herding away. “No revenge.”

“But they are assholes, Scott. I can prove it.”

“That’s nice,” Scott says and then he is shoving Stiles towards the door and–

“Sorry about that,” Scott tells Bitty. “If it helps, it means he likes you. I mean, just as a friend because he is already dating Derek, but… still. He thinks you are awesome.”

Bitty doesn’t know what to do with that information but luckily Scott is already moving away, dragging Stiles along with him and–

“Seriously, Scott, I’m bored,” Stiles is saying as they exit. “Nothing has happened in weeks!”

“We’ve talked about this,” Scott says. “Peace is a good thing– and your arm is still technically a little bit broken!”

“Hairline fracture, Scott, hairline–”

They leave the library and Bitty is left staring and, well, it’s a testament to the Samwell Men’s Hockey team that once he wraps his mind around it a little bit, he actually doesn’t think it’s that weird.

*^*^*^

So Bitty remains sort of friends with the lax bros and, sure, he notices that they seem to have a lot of late nights and that Stiles alternates between hyper and bored and completely focused and there is still a lot of inner lax bro whispering that he is not a part of –

But nothing really prepares him for the night he looks out of his kitchen window to see Scott and Stiles deep in conversation with a wolf. Who then turns into a person. Who then walks casually in the lax house.

Nothing could prepare him for that.

Luckily, there is still some tubjuice on hand from last night’s kegster so Bitty pours himself a glass of that and tells himself that, well, now is a good a time as any to start drinking.

That way in the morning, he can pretend it was just a trick of the imagination.

Even though, he is 99% sure it wasn’t. 

Chapter Text

Original Tumblr Post

Original anon message: ok i'm watching big hero 6 with my parents and?? this check please au writes ITSELF has anyone done this??

I don’t think I’ve seen a Big Hero 6 CP AU! It’s all you, bro!

I just have one concern– who are you going to kill????? like who is tadashi in this situation?? Who is Hiro? like, for real, this is the danger of the Big Hero 6 AU imo… you either write an OC which is easier bc everyone is still alive but it doesnt have quite the same emotional impact as killing “one of the gang” as it were… gosh, since I’m on this jack/shitty friendship binge i’m almost tempted to say that you make Shitty Tadashi– aka Shitty and Jack are best friends and Shitty introduced Jack to the wonder that is applied-science (instead of theoretical) and Shitty would be the type to just make a robot to want to help people but then he dies and Jack, who never quite joined the friend group, is force to lean on Ransom, Holster, Lardo, and Bitty for support as he creates a superhero team to avenge his friend…

… BUT THEN THERE IS NO SHITTY BC SHITTY IS DEAD AND EVERYTHING IS tERRIBLE!! (oh shit, plus you could add like… idk Jack is pretty famous in the science world (bring in that hockey pressure from canon CP– its not quite the same as BH6 in which tadashi dies like the minute hiro is discovered but fuck it, its an AU, bro) so sorry this is a hell of a sentence but: Jack is famous, especially for theoretical physics; Shitty is his friend who convinces him that robotics is where its at; when Shitty dies, people aren’t certain why it affects Jack so much (because it’s not like they are related and actually accounts say they just met up a few years ago so, really, the fact that Jack has dropped out of everything is a bit ridiculous, Frank. You’re not wrong, Steve, plus his inventions benefit all of humanity so like… it was a tragedy but I dunno, I think Zimmermann needs to refocus here…) So basically, add to all this the fact that people are pressuring Jack to just go back to work as if work wasn’t only made bearable by the fact that Shitty would bust into his office at least once an hour and laugh with him and all the others seem too intimidated by him but Shitty never was and-and-

It’s Bitty, the tiny scientist who always thought that Jack did Not Want to be bothered, (who specialized in heat ray particle physics designed to like… bake things from afar but remain safe for human flesh?? idk) who finally decides to reach out. With a sympathy pie. Because, yes, they are usually for the family, obviously, but Shitty’s family hasn’t even been by to clear out his office and hasn’t visited him in years and so…

Facing mounting pressure from everyone after a month long sabatical, Jack returns to work– only to sit at his desk and struggle not to either cry or destroy everything. He sits blankly for three days and then suddenly there is this short blond kid knocking on his semi-open door (he always leaves it part way open; shitty would just barge in anyway) and offering him pie. And then Bitty ever so tentatively mentions that no one has been by to pick up Shitty’s things or look at his data and no one was really sure what Shitty was working on but maybe Jack–

Jack didn’t know what Shitty was working on. For as much as the man could talk your ear off, he equally loved playing the “Mysterious Man of Science” at any opportunity. All Jack knew was that “It is going to change the world, brah! Gonna be fucking sick!!!” But Jack will be damned before he lets all of Shitty’s research go to waste and, fuck it, apparently he is a genius. If anyone can figure out what Shitty was doing and finish his work, it’s him. 

So Jack goes with Bitty, who is charming and friendly and Jack can’t decide if that’s soothing or if he wants to punch him in the face because dammit, he is sad and mad and, to be safe, he keeps his answers to one syllables. His jaw aches from the effort but at least he’s not crying or yelling so that’s a win.

Shitty’s lab is madness. Partly because it’s the common lab where five scientists work instead of Jack’s private lab/office but also partly because, as Jack sort of knows based on Shitty’s stories, everyone is crazy. Obviously, everyone is a bit subdued because Shitty had died only a month ago but Jack politely asks them what they are working on and they light up a bit at that and, also, keep in mind, they have been leaning on each other for support for this last month while Jack has been alone so they get a bit hyper and it’s like hearing an echo of Shitty. All Jack can think is how well Shitty would fit in here.

And how much he doesn’t. Especially not now. He’s not sure he even wants to. To finally hang out with Shitty’s friends now that Shitty is gone seems like the worst thing he can do. So he nods politely and grabs Shitty’s work (a mid-sized box, a laptop covered in neon stickers, and frightfully few notes, tbh) and heads back to his office. 

So Jack meets Baymax and Baymax takes one scan at Jack and tells him he is suffering from Depression and needs companionship (and Jack thinks, no, he needs Shitty) and calls everyone in the lab to come to Office- S01 immediately. 

Bitty, Ransom, Holster, and Lardo tumble in and–

“Wow!” Holster says, looking up at Baymax. “Shits never let us see what he was working on!”

“He’s so bouncy,” Ransom says, poking Baymax in the stomach. “I love him already.”

“Surprised Shits didn’t give him a killer ‘stash,” Lardo says. 

“Oh, he’s lovely,” Bitty adds, looking a bit close to tears himself. 

Everyone is too content to talk about Baymax to notice or care when he stands and closes the door, announcing: “Let’s all have some bonding time!”

Baymax seems blissfully unaware that Jack does not belong in this group. In fact, the group seems blissfully unaware too because they settle right now and start digging through Jack’s stuff and asking questions and even when Jack doesn’t really answer, they let the conversation flow around him so there’s not that much pressure and when they leave, Bitty pats him on the shoulder and says that he should join them for lunch “whenever he would like.”

Jack nods and thinks he’s never going to do that.

What he is going to do is perfect Baymax. He goes through all of Shitty’s notes and then when it turns out most of those are limericks and Pink Floyd lyrics, he hacks into Shitty’s laptop. (The password was “ZimmsAss4ever” which took Jack an embarrassingly short time to figure out bc honestly, Shitty told him that on the daily).

It’s in Shitty’s e-mails that Jack finds the threatening messages. Messages from big evil corporations who are furious that Shitty wants to produce Baymax for free and provide them to low-income area hospitals first and Jack doesn’t want to believe it, but he goes digging– armed with his nanotechnology and then Baymax and, well, he’s going to need help so…

Big Hero 6

*^*^*^

Chapter Text

Original Tumblr Post

So, Drunk Jack Zimmermann:

I’m thinking that after Jack and Bitty come out, Jack is finally, finally able to take Bitty to a team fundraising event and they both dress up in nice suits and are more nervous than they are willing to admit because… it’s a hockey event for very wealthy people and, well, Bitty listens to his pre-game playlist and Jack goes in with a bit of a game face (and personally vows that he will cause a fucking scene if anyone says one wrong word to Bitty because he is done with being quiet. Bitty should not have to deal with anymore silence in his life.)

Of course, no one is more aware of Jack’s ‘ready to fucking throw down’ face then Eric R. Bittle because they’ve been dating for four years at this point and the last time he’s seen that face, Jack had gently but firmly taken the phone from Bitty’s hands and informed Mrs. Bittle that she was not to call again unless she planned on doing something other than crying.

So Bitty puts on his (slightly more mild) version of a ‘here to fight’ face and they head out.

And then it is very, very awkward because here they are, two gays boys ready to take on the establishment, and it seems no one even wants to fight them. Jack gets swarmed when he arrives (obviously, he is the Captain who led the Falconers to a Stanley Cup Victory in his third year in the league) but no one tries to separate them and no one rudely ignores Bitty in favor of talking to Jack and, really, many people seemed absolutely thrilled that Bitty is there.

So, when a server comes around and offers the group drinks, Jack feels confident enough to release his hold on Bitty and actually take one.

And it just keeps getting better and better. After the first hour or so, Jack has put in enough face time to keep the high-ups happy and they are free to hang out with his team and their wives and more servers come around and Bitty has switched to his left side so he can drink and let his arm dangle off his boyfriend and then when he sees one of his teammates sneak a quick kiss from his girlfriend, Jack realizes that he can do that too and does and–

This is fun.

They are out and no one is being a jerk and Bitty looks fantastic and Jack is allowed to put his hand on Bitty’s shoulders and his lower back and–

“Jack!” Bitty hisses, laughing and pushing at him. “We are at a formal event!”

Okay. Not there. He can’t quite put his hand there.

But, still, it’s more than they’ve been is allowed to do in public ever and more than Jack ever expected and he hates these things when he’s by himself but with Bitty there… Bitty can take care of the small talk (because Bitty was born to small talk) and Jack gets to hang back and just stare at him and laugh and him and drink and the servers keep coming around so…

He’s tipsy before he knows it. Tipsy and happy and that’s new. He likes it.

Meanwhile, Bitty is… well, it’s not that he’s not paying attention to Jack (he is, Jack is getting harder and harder to ignore as the night goes on because he keeps touching Bitty. Everywhere.) but Bitty is a little distracted by catching up with the other hockey significant others and he knows he has to handle most of the other conversations he and Jack find himself in and he is going to make a good impression, he is, so he is definitely drinking but slowly. He keeps reminding himself to be careful and keeps his sips of wine small and polite, like any proper Southern gentleman should and so, honestly, it’s a bit of a surprise when Jack leans over and whispers:

“Bits, I- I don’t think I can drive us home.”

Jack sounds a little bit alarmed, a small worried frown taking over his face, the same one that he gets when he is trying to plan new hockey plays and it makes Bitty giggle because this is not that serious.

“It’s okay, honey,” he says. “We’ll call an Uber.”

“Oh,” Jack says. “Is that… okay? I’m sorry.”

“Jack, it will cost us twelve dollars,” Bitty replies. God, his boyfriend is adorable. His professional hockey star boyfriend who, perhaps for the first time in his life, has gone and gotten a little too tipsy at a formal event. “Don’t worry. Go have fun. There’s a server- grab another drink, if you’d like.”

“You sure?”

“Oh, god, yes,” Bitty says, pushing Jack away. “Go.”

And Jack’s frown swings into something small and pleased and, wow, now that Bitty is looking for it, Jack does look a little more flushed than usual and he’s smiling more and he’s walking with the slightly over-practiced air of someone who is trying too hard to be natural. After a beat (where, yes, okay fine, Bitty enjoys the view that is Jack Zimmermann walking away), Bitty turns back to his conversation and Jack brings him back another of wine and–

By the time they leave, Bitty’s fingers and toes are comfortably numb so he has a glass of wine while Jack takes his time to say goodbye to all of his teammates (it’s taking a good deal longer than usual and at one point there are hugs.) And then they are out. And it was a success. Bitty thinks people liked him and if they didn’t, they were polite enough to stay away and it’s starting to hit him that this is his life now. He and Jack can do this all the time.

Of course, it’s in the Uber when Bitty finally realizes how tipsy Jack is. Because the Uber driver is a fan and Jack keeps trying to get through his whole ‘The Falconers appreciate your support and I have really enjoyed living in Providence’ statement but it takes him a few tries to get through the word ‘appreciate’ (his accent keeps doing strange things to it) and then the last part comes out “And Providence is just… awesome, you know? Like… Bitty has a bakery!” Which makes Bitty giggle. Because it’s true! He does have his own bakery and it is successful. Providence is awesome.

Luckily the drive is short. Because while Bitty spaced out and thought about his bakery, Jack has started listing all the different kinds of pie they sell.

“Thank you!” Bitty says, brightly. Being friendly to Uber drivers is a way of life. Plus this one had dealt with two drunk people.

“Oh!” Jack says as if surprised they are at their neighborhood. “How much was it?”

“It’s on my phone,” Bitty replies. Jack shakes his head at him.

“That makes no sense.” He digs through his wallet and pulls out what is probably an unreasonable amount of money and gives it to the driver. “Here. Phones are stupid.”

And then he’s up and out. The driver tries to give the money to Bitty but Bitty just laughs and waves it away because tipsy Jack Zimmermann is the cutest thing to happen to the entire world.

“C’mon,” Bitty says, dragging Jack into their house. He is grateful that he is the one who trips over their front step because Jack can catch him but if the roles were reversed, he’s sure they would both go down.

“I know,” Jack replies. Bitty blinks. He hadn’t realized he’d said all that aloud. “I am very strong.”

And that’s- that’s– Oh, heavens, Jack never brags about himself. Ever. Which means, Jack is not tipsy. Jack is drunk. And Bitty is… not sober either. That might be why it’s taken him so long to realize this.

“Jack!” Bitty says, alarmed. “We are drunk!”

“You are beautiful,” Jack corrects as they throw their keys down and make it to their kitchen. Normally, Bitty would blush at the compliment but right now it is dawning on him that he is drunk and Jack is drunk and they are both drunk at the same time and–

“We need to eat,” he says. He thinks that Jack maybe even more drunk than he is. Then he looks over to see Jack semi-struggling to hop up on the counter and he realizes Jack is definitely more drunk than he is and–

Lord above, that means technically Bitty is the sober one. Or, at least the responsible one. He is going to have to be the Responsible Drunk One.

That means when Jack gives up on the counter and plasters himself to Bitty’s back, Bitty must not be distracted.

Not even when Jack starts kissing the back of his neck.

Not even when Jack starts nibbling the back of his neck.

“I’m making food,” he says. Decisively. He is Eric R. Bittle. He can make food. It will soak up the alcohol in their stomachs. That’s just good science.

“No,” Jack says. “No, I don’t want food.”

“You need food,” Bitty says, spinning so he can push Jack away.

It is a tactical error. Because spinning means he is facing Jack and facing Jack means he can see Jack’s smirk and the fact that his eyes look downright mischievous and–

“I do not need food,” Jack tells him. “I think I need something else. To eat.”

And then Jack Lauren Zimmerman, winner of the Calder Trophy, Captain of the Providence Falconers, and graduate of Samwell University with a degree in History, waggles his eyebrows.

Bitty struggles to hold in laughter. But he has to. As the Responsible One.

“Food is good,” he says. “Food will help.”

And then Jack deploys the pout.

“I don’t want food,” he says. “I want to go to bed.”

He sounds just a touch petulant and he doesn’t do a foot stomp but his shoulder rise and fall as if he wanted to and his eyebrows draw together.

“Please?” He asks and good lord, it’s game over for Bitty.

“Fine,” he replies, trying to sound put out. “Give me a second to grab some water for us. I’ll be right there.”

Jack honest to god fistpumps in celebration and then goes running from the kitchen and Bitty thanks god that due to Jack’s career they have more water bottles than they know what to do with because that means that hopefully they won’t spill.

Hopefully he can chug one himself and get one to Jack and then they can snuggle up and go to sleep. Bed sounds good right now. Bed and sleep and cuddling.

Unfortunately, it seems that those things are not in the cards for him. At least not right away. Because when he enters their room it is only to see that Jack is not a sleepy drunk. No, Jack is a hyper drunk.

“Let’s do something!” Jack says the moment Bitty enters the room. He’s kneeling on the bed. He’s lost his suit jacket but not anything else.

“How about we put on pajamas?” Bitty tries. Jack’s enthusiasm is catching but sleep is the smart move. And he is going to be the best responsible drunk person ever. He is. He is going to stop giggling at Jack any second now.

“That’s not exciting,” Jack says. “I want to do something exciting.” (At least Bitty thinks that’s what he says. His accent/drunkenness is doing strange things to that last word too.)

“I promise if you put on pajamas, we’ll do something exciting after it. After that. After.” Bitty is going to need to stop slurring if he is going to sound serious.

Jack looks at him suspiciously. “Promise?”

Bitty nods. “Promise.” And that should be the end of it but–

“RACE YOU!” Jack suddenly yells and he is fumbling out of his shirt and Bitty is going to lose, he just knows it because he is finding it very difficult to focus and he is actually bothering with his buttons, thank you very much, unlike Jack who seems to have done the first few and is now trying to pull his shirt over his head.

Of course, as Bitty gets down to his boxers, it becomes apparent that pajamas were never in Jack’s plan. Because Jack, despite being done undressing, is starringat him and doesn’t have anything but boxers on either and so Bitty cannot be blamed for sort of… forgetting the pajamas part.

He also can’t be blamed for staring right back. He’s only human.

And then Jack is stalking forward until they are toe-to-toe and “I want to do something different,” he says. It’s the same stubborn tone that he’d taken in the kitchen.

Bitty laughs. “Like what?” They have been together four years. They have been together for all of Bitty’s 20s and Jack’s mid-20s. Jack is a professional athlete. Bitty was a college-level athlete who used to be a very flexible figure skater. There is not much they haven’t done.

And, abruptly, he realizes that as the responsible drunk one, it is his job to tell Jack that now is not the time for any sort of tying up or new scene shenanigans.

Above him, Jack is frowning slightly and Bitty opens his mouth to say that they should probably just go to sleep but suddenly he is being lifted off the ground and–

“Jack!” Bitty says, trying to squirm his way to freedom. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, I–”

He is all but thrown on the bed, but the wrong way and–

“We always lay on the bed in the same direction,” Jack tells him, with all the seriousness of a very drunk person. He is braced above Bitty, only their legs intertwined. Bitty has the urge to flip him. He bet he could. Jack is just drunk enough to be too uncoordinated to stop it. “We should do it upside-down. Different.”

Bitty is going to argue but Jack looks so proud of himself and, okay, fooling around with their heads where their feet usually go is technically different and doesn’t seem to violate any Responsibility Laws–

“You did promise,” Jack says, leaning down to kiss Bitty’s jaw. Bitty hopes Jack never realizes that he could say anything in that tone of voice - soft and serious and hopeful - and Bitty would do it. “You promised we would.”

“I demand a pillow for my head at least,” Bitty says and in a flash, Jack disappears from view and then is back with a pillow. Bitty lifts his head and lets Jack very carefully replace it, fluffing it around him as Bitty settles.

“Now?” Jack asks, voice hopeful, eyes young.

“You are so weird,” Bitty replies and then tilts his mouth up for a kiss.

Bitty has made out with tipsy Jack before. He knows that Jack is a bit more handsey and uses a bit more tongue and is loose in a way that Bitty adores but this is the first time that he’s made out with drunk Jack.

And Drunk Jack is ridiculous.

He attempts to hold it together at first but after a minute of kissing, Bitty has to twist his head away because he keeps giggling helplessly because Jack is using so much tongue. Enough that Bitty knows Jack is just trying to be gross and Jack’s chuckle confirms it and “I am going to make you sleep on the couch in a second, Mr. Zimmermann!” Even after Jack moves away and down his neck (and, lord is he going to have a hickey there!), Jack keeps pausing to tickle him and bite him gently and giggle at himself and Bitty has to keep reaching down to shove him off but he’s laughing too hard to be effective. His abs hurt and he knows he’s red and he is going to have to take a shower because Jack’s spit is everywhere. Heavens.

Really, it’s not even hot. What it is is fun.

Even when Jack finally gets low enough to push Bitty’s boxers down and puts his attention and mouth there, it is still ridiculously silly.

“Oh, lord,” Bitty says. He can’t stop laughing. Jack won’t stop licking. “Lord, this is so sloppy. We are so sloppy.”

Jack pops off for a second. “I am not sloppy.”

“You are,” Bitty says. “The sloppiest.”

“You like it.”

Bitty doesn’t deny it (because he is hard and, god, he loves Jack so much he can barely even stand it and–)

Jack smirks at him after he comes and is still gasping for breath.

“Told you,” he says, sounding entirely too proud of himself. He looks like this is his first time doing this, like he hasn’t had four years to figure out exactly what Bitty likes, like they haven’t both done much more kinky and ridiculous things.

“Oh shut up,” Bitty says. “And get up here.”

“Down here,” Jack corrects. Bitty hits him.

*^*^*^

The next morning, Jack wakes up with a groan that makes Bitty glad he already snuck out of bed and grabbed advil to go with their water. Though, he can’t put it on the bedside table because they had slept with their heads at the foot of the bed. All night.

“Morning, darlin’,” Bitty says, hoping he doesn’t sound too gleeful. It’s just… it’s always him who’s hungover. Always. And now…

“Uggh,” Jack says. “Bittle. I’m dying. And why are we the wrong way on this stupid bed?”

For a moment, Bitty feels alarmed. He hadn’t thought Jack was blackout drunk and oh god, he hadn’t meant–

“Like, I remember thinking it was a good idea,” Jack mumbles, more to himself than Bitty. “But why? The shades don’t cover the foot of the bed.”

Bitty grins in relief (and because his boyfriend is adorably grumpy this morning).

“I tried to tell you that,” he says. “And I tried to give you water.”

“You did not,” Jack replies, face still buried in his pillow. “You hate me.”

“That is not true!” Bitty says, laughing and reaching over to poke Jack in the side. “This was all your idea.”

Jack goes quiet and then, just as Bitty starts to worry, he rolls to the side enough so that Bitty can see most of his face.

“It was, wasn’t it?” He says, with just a note of wonder that makes Bitty’s heart ache. “I- I had fun.”

There is a small pleased smile on his face and a touch of confusion in his eyes as if he can’t believe it and–

“Yes,” Bitty says, leaning down and planting a kiss on Jack’s temple. “You did.”

The confusion fades to something like pride and then he closes his eyes and groans and–

“Hush,” Bitty says. “There’s water and advil at the head of the bed. And I’ll go make pancakes.”

”I love you,” Jack mumbles, making no attempt to move “And pancakes. Mostly pancakes.”

Bitty just laughs.

*^*^*

Chapter Text

• Kent Parson wakes up in an unfamiliar bedroom and is like “well, fuck, did this again– but it’s a Friday so… that’s not that crazy” because he’s Kent Parson and if you think KP is not getting dangerously drunk on the semi-regular, then you have not given him as much angst as I have and I invite you to get on board with Kenny P and his bad coping mechanisms
• Of course, he is a little confused, cause he usually saves that for the off-season and they are still playing so like… it’s not totally in character but he accepts he was extra stupid last night.
• Actually he was really fucking stupid because he clearly hooked up with a guy (based on the smell) and a Sharks fan (based on the whole fucking room) and he usually doesn’t risk hooking up with hockey fans because… he’s not trusting hockey fans to not out him to the world.
• (And also good lord, if he is so drunk he cannot even remember this guy at all, he was probably a shitty lay.)
• But, okay, he accepts this: Bad decisions were made last night. But this isn’t exactly his first rodeo so he breaks it down like he would a play and first things first: Coffee.
• He stumbles down to get coffee, noting that his body is moving kinda weird and maybe he is still drunk?? That would also explain the lack of hangover.
• This is when shit gets crazy. Because Bitty is downstairs in the kitchen and Bitty smiles when he sees him and there is no world in which Eric Bittle, Jack’s perfect fucking boyfriend, smiles at him. Kent Parson, Jack’s fucking asshole of an ex.
• Then Bitty moves away from the kitchen window and Kent sees himself and– Holy Shit, he is not Kent Parson.

• MEANWHILE, over in Vegas, Chowder wakes up with a killer headache and worries he is getting sick which is good in that it means Bitty will make him soup, bad in that he has a project he needs to do with Dex and also, boy his feet are hot.
• He makes the mistake of moving them.
• He is then attacked by some huge white furry monster and when he yelps, the monster freezes, looks at him long and hard for a tense 30 seconds before hissing and running away.
• It is at this point that Chowder realizes he is not in his own room. In fact, he does not think he is in the Haus. His assumption that this is a prank by Holster and Ransom but it seems awfully elaborate and they lost last night so he would have thought he was safe from pranks oh and also, when he swings his head to see more of the room (dark gray sheets, mint colored wall, no art up at all), a piece of his hair falls out and it–
• It is white people hair. Blond. He’d know it a mile away.
• So he jumps up and runs to the bathroom and Holy Shit He Is Kent Parson.

• Meanwhile, Kent has almost died. Bitty had asked about the Sharks and he had been too stunned to lie and then Bitty threatened him with death and he’s managed to laugh and say something like “JUST KIDDING JUST KIDDING THEY WON 3-1!!!” (he was shouting more out of fear than enthusiasm but luckily it seemed to do the trick) and thank god he actually did follow that game because they were playing the Sharks the next day.
• Well. The Aces are playing the Sharks the next day.
• He is… fucking shit, he needs to figure out who he was.
• He forgoes the coffee that Bitty offers him and runs to the bathroom and– Chowder. He stalks enough of Samwell and Bitty’s dumb vlog that he knows Chowder. He is… He is Chowder. He is trapped in Chowder’s body. He is–
• He is on his way to a full panic attack when the door bangs open and Holster blinks at him and “you’re up early dude” and then walks over to the toilet and starts peeing and he looks half asleep so Kent runs away.
• Running away does not work though, because Ransom grabs him as he tries and “no, no, no moping about the game last night for you. It was a tough loss, but it was everyone’s fault, not yours and c’mon Bitty is making breakfast”
• And so Kent Parson is manhandled back downstairs.

• Chowder’s solution to the problem was to lay down and hope that he woke up from that fucking weird ass dream.
• It does not work.
• So then he gets up and decides that step one is to fix this hangover. He grabs water, advil, open the fridge to find that it is empty (almost cries a little tbh) and it is when going for his phone that he realizes his phone is Parson’s phone and that phone is dead. He cannot get into the laptop because there is a password. So ordering food is out.
• He is nothing if not a problem solver though so Chowder puts the phone to charge, hops in and out of the shower, puts on clothes (that are literally so soft oh my god kent parson spends his money right), grabs his wallet and keys (at least, he assumes) and heads out.
• Luckily, Kent Parson lives in a walkable area. So no driving is necessary to find a chinese place because that is exactly what Chowder thinks he needs right now. Good, cheap, tastes nothing like the real thing but man he loves it anyway, Chinese food.
• When he walks in the store, the man behind the counter says “you want the usual?” and it is here that Chowder makes his first mistake. Because he doesn’t know what white-boy Kent gets but he’s sure it’s not what he wants. So he says “no”, gives the man a correct order (yes, he’s sure he wants extra hot everything, thank you very much) and then he takes it home and–
• DIES.
• HE DIES.
• Chowder puts one bite of what is SUPPOSED to be delicious food into his mouth and HE DIES.
• Seriously. His whole mouth lights up on fire and he starts sweating and gets the hiccups and also heartburn?? It turns out that is a thing?? and the only thing in Kent Parson’s fridge is heavy cream (presumably for coffee) but Chowder just takes that to the dome and holy shit, white people are the worst and he–
• He goes back and says “yes, actually, please I would like my usual” and then goes promptly back to sleep.
• Because he is hungover and stuck in a nightmare where mild beef and broccoli is almost too much for him and sleep seems to be the best solution.

• Kent Parson would like to be asleep. Boy, would he. But Ransom had dragged him downstairs and he is trying to continue to hate Bitty while also eating these fucking delicious waffles and his strategy to making it through this breakfast is to just sit quietly and nod every once and a while and hope that Samwell’s loss is enough of an explanation for “chowder’s” silence this morning.
• (He also has to keep reminding himself to stop glaring at Bitty. Bitty is… Bitty fucking hates him but not when he’s in this body and that’s weird and he hates Bitty too because Bitty has it all and he has nothing and he– Everyone here clearly loves Bitty. He has to pretend.)
• “Dude, you aren’t even ready yet?” The boy telling him this is very ginger and Kent doesn’t think he was around when he came to Samwell the last time but “cut a man a break, Dex,” another boy says, sliding into a stool. “Chill a little. You’ll get there in time.”
• “Class starts in 15 minutes,” Dex tells him and Kent is going to open his mouth to say that he is not feeling well and gonna skip but Bitty is sort of frowning at him suspiciously so he just nods mutely and runs for the stairs.
• It is now, in this minute alone, that he gets his first good idea: Call myself. He grabs Chowder’s phone, thanks every god that might exist that Chowder has his fingerprint set up so security is not an issue and then he types in his own number and–
• Nothing.
• His phone is off.
• Goddammit.
• There’s nothing left to do but get ready to go. So, he pulls on clothes (and man, this guy needs an updated wardrobe, like seriously what are these t-shirts made of?? cardboard??) and runs after Dex and okay, it turns out he has computer something-or-other… at 10AM. Every MWF. What the fuck.

• Chowder wakes up a few hours later, feeling better, but still tragically stuck in Kent Parson’s body.
• Also the cat. It’s back. And glaring at him. But also… meowing at the food bowl.
• Chowder considers looking up how much food you are supposed to give cats and then thinks, fuck it, and fills the whole thing. The cat looks pleased by this but when Chowder tries to pet her, she hisses at him.
• Either this cat somehow knows he is not really Kent Parson or she is the meanest fucking cat in the world.
• At this point, Chowder sees that Kent’s phone is charged, turns it on and finds out that Kent Parson is one of those idiots with one of those patterns used to unlock it instead of a fingerprint.
• He is… he is at a loss for what to do. LUCKILY, at that moment (because this is fic), a Troy Swoops calls. Chowder lunges for the phone and answers it and
• “Booy, where the fuck are you?? We’re all at the stadium and our flight leaves in three and a half hours so like… what the fuck?”
• “Uh. Oh. Um. I’m…” Chowder had been so excited to answer, he had actually not thought this totally all the way through.
• “I’m… flight?”
• “Yes. Flight. Leaving this afternoon. For the game tomorrow.”
• Right. Kent Parson is on a professional hockey team. Kent Parson plays games. “Yes.” Chowder says. “Right… where are… where are we going for the game?”
• There is silence on the other end. Dead silence.
• “Dude. what the fuck. We… we’re playing the Sharks tomorrow. You know that.” The voice sounds honestly concerned.
• “HAH! RIGHT!” Chowder says, trying to play this off. “Just kidding! Haha, uh, obviously I knew that. Just… got you!”
• He winces. He does not think he sounds like Kent Parson. He clears his throat and tries. “Gosh, Swoops, you are… so fucking gullible. If I– If I told you gullible was written on the ceiling you would– you would fucking believe it!”
• “Uh- what?”
• “Look, gotta go,” Chowder says. “I’ll be at the stadium soon” And then hangs up. And throws the phone.
• And then let’s out a little scream because finally, finally, he thinks he knows what’s going on.

• Kent Parson is 99% sure everyone around him is talking in a different language. Sure, he recognizes the words they are saying and sometimes he can put together a sentence but… he has no idea what is happening. He has his notebook open since Dex had shoved his bag at him on their way out and he opened it to see his (well, Chowder’s) handwriting all over it and everyone is scribbling furiously around him and well… fuck, he’s inhabiting the guy’s body so he might as well try to take some notes for the kid so…
• As of right now, he has managed to write: Java is… good. Or bad. Binary. Zeros. Remember to close your loops. Documentation. Loops splicing??
• The class mercifully ends and he nods when Dex turns and tells him he had some good ideas for their project and then–
• Then a girl is walking up to them and Kent looks behind him, praying to anyone who may be listening that that familiar smile and flirtatious wave is for someone who is standing right behind him but–
• “Hey babe!” the girl says and of course, of course this guy has to have a fucking girlfriend.
• “Uh, hi!” he says and tries to sound enthused and then she is leaning in for a kiss (one of those casual, “we’ve been dating for a long time and still really like each other so I’ll kiss you in public” kisses that Kent has only seen in movies) and then Kent Parson’s cheek has been kissed and this body blushes so easily he literally feels himself turning red.
• He does not remember the last time someone has kissed him on the cheek.
• Unless it is a female reporter doing a polite “meet and greet” sort of kiss.
• This feels different.
• “Are we still hanging out before your practice?” she asks.
• “Oh, yeah, right,” he says. “Hanging out… for lunch. Lunch.”
• Her face falls into a slight frown. “Don’t you usually do lunch with the team before?”
• “Yeah. Yes. Now?”
• “It’s 11,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “We have an hour to kill. I thought we were going to… you know. Hang out.”
• She is smirking a bit and leaning closer and Kent turns around to see that Dex has conveniently disappeared and look, Kent is the first person to tell you that he is a fucking asshole but he is certainly not about to go fool around this girl while trapped in her boyfriend’s body.
• “No!” he yelps, taking two steps away as if that will help. “I mean… uh- sorry. I- I don’t feel well. Actually. I’m going to… I have to… Sorry, I’ll see you later. I am… busy. So busy! Homework! And sick. I am both.”
• And then he turns and basically runs away.
• It is the least smooth Kent Parson has ever been.
• But he tears out of the building and back to the Haus and thank god it is empty so he reaches for his–no Chowder’s–phone and calls himself and–
• “HELLO!”
• Kent Parson has never been so thrilled to hear his own voice in his entire life.
• “Chowder?”
• “KENT PARSON! OH MY GOD– IT’S CHRIS CHOW I AM IN YOUR BODY.”
• “Shit, fuck. I know!” Kent says, his relief is coming out of him in the form of annoyance because he has had too much personal interaction today and he is scared and he wants his body back and– “I’m in your fucking body!”
• “I AM SORRY!”
• “Stop yelling!” Kent says. “Stop just– let’s calm down. We need to– we need to fix this.”
• “Right. Sorry. Sorry,” Chowder says. “I- I think this is my fault.”
• “Wh-What? How?”
• “Well, last night,” Chowder says. “Around 1AM my time so like… what is that 10pm your time? There was a shooting star and I– well I wished on it. Did you see it?”
• “No,” Kent replies. “Why the fuck would I wish on a goddamn star?”
• “I didn’t think it would work,” Chowder says. “I just– I wished!”
• “To take over my body??” Kent replies.
• “No! No I just… I wished to play in the NHL! To play the Sharks! So I’ve been thinking and… and I think that’s why this happened. To me, at least. I don’t… I don’t know why it would have been you that I switched with.”
• Kent… Kent swallows and doesn’t say anything. Because he… he’s just remembered something. At 9pm… at 9pm he was home alone in his apartment and he’d… he might have accidentally wished something but it wasn’t a wish. It was more a passing thought and he–
• “Well, whatever,” he says, roughly. “The point is we have to fix this.”
• “I feel like we probably just need to meet up?” Chowder says. “Hold hands maybe?”
• Kent wants to scoff at that idea but also he has somehow switched bodieswith another human person so like… any idea is a good idea at this point.
• “Alright,” he says. “Let’s meet up.”
• “I’m about to get on a plane to San Jose!” Chowder says. “Or should I stay here?”
• “Stay- fuck, no! You gotta- I can’t miss a game. Get on that plane. I’ll meet you in San Jose. I’ll buy a ticket.”
• “Uh– I don’t… my credit card isn’t going to handle that,” Chowder says. “Sorry.”
• Kent blinks. He has… he has not thought of money in a long, long time. “Oh. Well. you buy me one. Or, I mean, I’ll– use my credit card and go by a ticket for me. Eh, Chris Chow. Buy a ticket for you but use my card. Your card.”
• “You’re sure?”
• “Dude, we have to get switched back. Like… yesterday. It doesn’t fucking matter.”
• “Oh! Okay! I’ll get you on like the first flight. Also… I… I owe you $15. I had to buy chinese food with your card.”
• “Dude, you can— you can buy whatever you want. Go crazy.”
• Downstairs, the front door squeaks open.
• “I gotta go,” he says. “Gotta go. Buy the ticket. E-mail me.”
• “Wait! What’s your shape password!”
• “It’s just an L! Backwards!”
• “Backwards L. Got it! Okay! I’ll get you a ticket! Nice meeting you! I’ll take care of your body!!”
• “Uh,you too?? Bye,” Kent says. And hangs up.
• And wonders at the fact that his idle thought last night, the thought that flitted across his mind just as he flopped on his couch and poured himself a glass of whiskey, somehow got him here. Stuck in another man’s body.
• He doesn’t know if the thought, if I wish I was just fucking happy, was worth it.

• Chowder almost misses the flight. He has to purchase a ticket for himself (which is wild because Kent texts and tells him to make sure to get FIRST CLASS!! And then when Chowder tells him he doesn’t know how to get First Class only one way, Kent says “get it fucking both ways then) and then Kent texts him telling him to leave out extra food and water for Kit (who still has not stopped hissing btw) and all of that just takes longer than he thought. Asking for advice results in the following: “curse a lot and say you were a bit sick. It’s not ideal but whatever ill deal with it when we switch back”. It exactly the opposite of what he would do “apologize profusely and just tell the truth” but Chowder can see why “telling the truth” would not be ideal in this situation.
• So he pretends he is in a horrible mood and limits his sorry to once per sentence and tries to curse more and the weird thing is, even after he says he’s sick, no one on the team really asks how he’s doing. They all just seem both a bit annoyed that he was so late he had to just meet them at the airport and relieved that he actually made it. Even when he says “sorry was throwing up, didn’t know if i could play!” the only question he gets is “you gonna be up for it?” and that’s it.
• Well, Swoops orders him a ginger ale and sits next to him on the plane but it… it’s very different.
• Then it occurs to him that Kent is the captain. Maybe the team is waiting for him to say something? Before the fun starts? Even Jack used to try to say something. Now Ransom and Holster give full on speeches.
• He decides to start with Swoops. But pitched a little bit so that the others can hear. Sometimes that’s how Ransom and Holster start.
• “Man, this is gonna be fucking awesome,” he says (trying not to smile too much, Kent had said not to do that). “Playing the Sharks!”
• Swoops looks at him. “Uh. Yeah?”
• “We’re going to do so awesome!” Chowder says. “Aren’t you just… we’re pretty fucking lucky, huh?”
• Swoops is still looking at him like he’s a little bit crazy.
• “I mean, think about it,” Chowder tries. “We’re the be- the fucking best hockey team and we get to go play another fucking awesome hockey and get paid for it! And we’re gonna play really well. I can just tell.”
• Two other Aces plays are twisting in their seat to look at him.
• “I’m really proud of us,” Chowder says. “We’re having a great fucking season. This is gonna be amazing.”
• This must not be how Kent gives his speeches. He is getting a lot of stares and not any nods.
• “Parse, you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?” one of them finally says.
• “Uh,” Chowder says. “No. No I’m just… excited?” He makes it a question. “Excited as shit?”
• People don’t really say anything. Just turn back around and put their headphones in and turn back to their devices.
• Huh.
• “Well, that’s a bit different,” Swoops finally says. “From your usual.”
• “My usual?” Chowder tries.
• “You know,” Swoops shrugs. “Right before we go out, you say something like ‘Alright, boys, let’s fucking do this.’”
• “Oh,” Chowder says. “Uh, well, figured I’d… mix it up.”
• Swoops still looks confused but he smiles just a little. “Alright, bro. Whatever.”
• Then he’s looking back at his phone too.
• Chowder sighs.
• He needs to get back to his team.

• Kent needs to get back to his team. Immediately.
• The earliest flights to San Jose weren’t till this evening and while he’d fed everyone the agreed upon lie (“My little sister is getting her wisdom teeth out and really wants me to be there”) and they had accepted it because he’d be back by Sunday, there was no real reason for him to miss practice.
• Which Kent wasn’t worried about at first. Hockey was hockey. He might have even looked forward to smoking these guys a little bit just for fun.
• Then he found out.
• Chowder is the goalie.
• This is… he is dying.
• It’s not that the body can’t do it either– the squat position isn’t as bad as he thought it would be, uncomfortable, yes, but not like… super painful probably because Chowder is used to it, and once he’d warmed-up (or he thought he did, he was really just trying to copy the movement he’s seen goalies do his whole life), Chowder was also pretty crazy flexible but… he.
• Fuck, being a goalie is fucking miserable.
• People keep fucking hitting pucks at him and they are coming right toward his face so he keeps flinching and there’s no way anyone could have saved that shot, it was going to fast, they are all going too fast and he–
• “Dude, are you feeling okay?” The one called Nurse asks him. “You… you look sorta green.”
• “And you’re playing like shit, to be honest,” Dex tells him.
• “Fuck off,” Kent mumbles. And then remembers that Chowder’s instructions were to “just be nice and friendly and stop Dex and Nurses from killing each other and eat lots of pie and wait, holy shit, do not go anywhere near Caitlyn. Especially in the afternoon!! Or mid-morning!! OR ANYTIME. DO NOT BE ALONE WITH CAITLYN!!!!”
• “I-uh- just not feeling great,” he says. “Uh, thanks for asking??” He tries to keep the question mark out of his voice but it might come out anyway.
• Thankfully, a moment later Ransom and Holster sort of exchange glances and change the drill to stick handling instead of taking actual shots and Kent thinks he’s gotten out of it when suddenly Eric R. Bittle is skating up to him.
• Fuck.
• He doesn’t want to deal with this.
• But Chowder’s instructions regarding Bitty had been clear: “We love Bitty! And Ransom and Holster and everyone but Bitty is ESPECIALLY awesome because he makes pies and is really nice and– oh he has a boyfriend that, uh, well I know about him but you don’t and I don’t want to–” Kent had texted back “I know.” and Chowder had replied “oh good!! Isn’t that great??”
• Yeah. Great. This was all great. It was great that Jack had moved on and didn’t care about him and probably never cared about him, he was just the convenient dude on the team willing to blow him and god he was so desperate for it and actually thought Jack liked him–loved him even, thought that they were going to do it all, have it all, be the secret boyfriends in the NHL and then fucking come out in some spectacular fashion after they were both rich and famous and fucking legends and–
• Yeah. It’s great. It’s great that Jack’s boyfriend, who is even smaller and cuter and just plain better than him is skating over to talk to him. While he is stuck in Chris Chow’s body. A guy who fucking loves Bitty.
• Christ, he wants a drink.
• “Hey,” Bitty says, voice all quiet and understanding.
• “Hi!” Kent tries. It comes out too cheerful for the mood. He… fuck, he doesn’t know how to do this. Chowder had said to be happy.
• Bitty stares at him… “are you okay?”
• People on this team need to stop fucking asking that question all the time. Though, he did just have a fucking horrible practice so… fair.
• “Oh, yeah,” he tries. “Just… you know. Feeling a bit off.”
• “Look, Chowder, I know last game was rough but it really wasn’t your fault.”
• Kent nods. He had gathered over the course of the day that Samwell had lost last night.
• “And today’s practice…” Kent braces himself to be yelled at. “Everyone has off days. It’s no big deal.”
• Kent… does not remember the last time he heard those words.
• “Uh, yeah,” he says. “Thanks.”
• “You can’t be so hard on yourself. We’re a team. Win together and lose together.”
• That is not how the Aces work. Not really. He doesn’t say anything but luckily Bitty seems willing to continue.
• “I know you are flying out today but when you get back, I’ll make you your favorite pie,” Bitty says. Kent forces himself to smile.
• He won’t be back though. Not for the pie or the next game.
• Or any of it.
• He tells himself that’s for the best.

• Alright, I think this is getting to be around like 3 or 4k now so let’s skip forward a bit.
• Chowder gets to San Jose. Luckily it is a night game so he has the morning pretty free. He just needs to make it through a brief strategy meeting and then he can meet up with Kent at 11.
• Kent takes the red-eye and lands in San Jose in the morning. He… he realizes he is hunching his shoulders and wearing the only pair of sunglasses he could find and he is tense moving through crowds of people because the Sharks have made San Jose a hockey town and he is a famous hockey player except–
• Except he’s not.
• He… he straightens. No one is looking at him.
• No one wants an autograph. No one is trying to take a picture. No one is yelling at him.
• He is… He can do whatever he wants.
• Well. not really. He can’t go shopping, so that’s out but he ends up walking through a park like some sort of total loser and staring off at a lake and he can just be outside and be peaceful and he would have thought he would get bored but he didn’t. When 11am rolled around and he headed off to meet Chowder, he is almost disappointed.
• He goes to the restaurant and grabs a table for two in the way back and ten minutes later, he has the absolutely bizarre experience of watching himselfwalk in the door.
• Chowder has a hat drawn low over his eyes and Kent’s biggest sunglasses on and he is hunched over and frankly dives into the door and then skips to the back and–
• Kent didn’t know his face could smile that widely.
• “HI!!!” Chowder says and this is weird. It’s somehow even weird to see him. “Oh my god!!”
• “Holy fucking shit,” Kent says and sees himself as Chowder blink. It’s possible Chowder isn’t used to seeing Kent’s smirking smile on his own face either. For some reason the thought makes Kent’s smirk break into something easier. “How’s it going?”
• “Dude,” Chowder grumbles, taking off the hat and the sunglasses. “I’m not gonna lie, people suck! Four people yelled at me to “go die!” on the way here!”
• Kent laughs. “Well, the Sharks do hate the Aces, man,” he says. “I try not to go out too much while I’m here.”
• “I mean, I’m a Sharks fan as much as the next guy,” Chowder says, plopping into the seat. “But I think telling someone to ‘go die’ is a bit much.”
• Kent shrugs. It’s become pretty par for the course for him.
• “Also, dude, I tried to make sure you looked good but I cannot- you have this weird cowlick at the top of your head and I cannot get it to stay down” Chowder is patting it as he says it and Kent can’t help but laugh again.
• “Dude, don’t worry about it. It’s impossible. I usually just wear hats.”
• “Gotcha,” Chowder crams the hat back on his head, backwards this time as if he has just remembered Kent wears it that way. Kent can’t stop staring. This is weird as fuck. “Well how did it go at Samwell?”
• “Uh, good,” Kent replies. “Well, everything thinks you are real upset cause I tried to just… not talk. I mean, I tried to be nice! But it didn’t… Bitty is making you your favorite pie when you get back.”
• “Oh swawesome!”
• “Yeah, and uh– well Caitlyn might be a little mad at you too,” Kent admits. “I… I had to sort of… run away from her?”
• “You what?”
• “She came up and wanted to hang out and we hadn’t talked yet but she was… you know, man, she was giving me the eyes!”
• “She does do the eyes,” Chowder agrees.
• “She also… she did kiss me on the cheek,” Kent says. “Well, you- she kissed you on the cheek before I could run away.”
• “Did she grab your butt?”
• “What? No!”
• “She does that! She likes my butt.”
• “Dude,” Kent says, relaxing more than he thought he would. “She wanted to hang out in the middle of the day on a Friday is that… are you really… that often?”
• For the first time, Kent’s face looks familiar as Chowder smirks just a little. “The team thinks we go on all sorts of cutesy dates.”
• Kent laughs.
• “Last month, I told them we walked over to the petting zoo like four times and they bought it! Except for Dex. I think Dex is onto us.”
• “Oh about Dex, he might be mad at you too. He kept wanting to work on some… project? I tried to take notes for you.”
• “You did!! Ah, thank you!”
• “No,” Kent says. “Really, do not thank me. It did not go well that is– you have to do that shit every day and then play hockey?”
• “Ugh, it sucks,” Chowder says. “You should see us during finals.”
• “I thought college athletes just like… fucking paid some nerd to do that shit.”
• “Nope,” Chowder says, sighing a little like he wishes it were true. “Not at Samwell. But it’s alright! I really like coding!”
• Luckily Kent is saved from having to respond to that by the waitress coming over. They are at some sort of Asian fusion place that had good reviews and is nearby the stadium and he goes to order his usual when–
• “Wait, wait,” Chowder (as Kent) says. “Dude, before we switch” (the waitress looks confused) “you gotta try real food. Get–” and then he is off, ordering, and then Kent has to tell him that with his game tonight, he should probably only eat certain things and Chowder looks crestfallen but when the waitress walks off and Kent asks if they should just get it over and hold hands now, Chowder insists that he wants Kent to be able to eat something good for once in his life and–
• The whole lunch ends up being a lot less awkward than it should be. Considering they’ve been walking around in each other’s bodies and talking to each other’s friends (well, he’s been talking to Chowder’s) and they’ve both showered so like… there’s not that many secrets between the two anymore.
• Still, instead of being awkward, Chowder tells him that he is pretty sure the cat somehow knows and did nothing but hiss at him all day and that warms Kent’s heart a little (and his face because my god, why does Chowder’s body blush so easily???) and then Chowder tells him about how he tried to order Chinese food and died and Kent tells him that being a goalie is fucking terrifying and all about the notes he did manage to take and–
• “I’ve never been able to do a split before,” Kent says as he scoops another bite of food into his mouth. He never knew spices could be so delicious. “It’s pretty cool. And also this food is fucking awesome.”
• “Swawesome!” Chowder says. “If you’re gonna be me, you gotta say ‘swawesome a lot.”
• “That’s so fucking lame,” Kent says but then his own face is pouting at him and– “Fuck. Fine. ‘Swawesome.”
• Chowder nods at him regally.
• This is when it occurs to Kent that, despite it all, he’s actually had a pretty good time in Chowder’s body. Sure, he had had to run away from Caitlyn and go to class and being a goalie is terrible, but he… this body is in good shape and can eat any food it wants and he got to go to the park and be outside and– Well, his body he knows for a fact was probably hungover and sore because it’s mid hockey season and people had told Chowder to “go die” so–
• “Dude, sorry,” Kent says. Chowder blinks at him. “I mean… about getting stuck being me. That probably sucked.”
• “I do think you need to do a better job of stretching,” Chowder says. “And icing. And your shoulder… does it always feel like this?” He rotates it backwards and winces.
• “Yeah,” Kent admits. “I mean, it gets better in the offseason but towards the end like this… one too many checks into the boards I guess. Doesn’t affect my play at all though so… y’know. It’s fine.”
• Chowder looks doubtfully at him. Kent shrugs. That’s the other thing. It has been pretty nice to be in a body that is only sore instead of… damaged. He knows the difference.
• “And… the hangover on Friday,” he says with a wry smile. “Sorry about that one too.”
• Chowder nods, looking at his plate for a second, and then–
• “You know,” he starts. Kent tense automatically. Feels trapped when Chowder looks up and meets his eyes. “You don’t need it.”
• Kent blinks. “Need what?”
• “Alcohol,” Chowder says. “Your body… you– the whole time I was in here, I didn’t have any urge to… you know, drink or anything. Just in case you were worried.”
• Kent… Kent was not worried he was actually an alcoholic–he… he wasn’t reallyhe just.
• “Oh,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well that’s… good.”
• So it was still just a mental thing. Cool. Perfect. Great.
• “And you didn’t drink while you were in mine,” Chowder says.
• “What? No,” Kent says. He wasn’t going to do that to someone else’s body.
• “So you probably don’t need it at all,” Chowder concludes, looking back at his plate as if this is simple and he has solved it. “Just a bad habit.”
• “Yeah,” Kent says. “Yeah, I guess… just a bad habit.”
• He has no idea why but that makes him feel better.
• So by unspoken agreement they finish eating and then sort of linger but finally, “Well,” Kent says. “I guess we better switch back.”
• “Hah– unless you want me playing the Sharks tonight!”
• “If you didn’t play goalie, I would totally let you,” Kent says. “Make that wish come true.”
• “Nah, I’d rather play them… you know as me. One day.”
• Kent nods and then reaches across the table but Chowder sort of frowns at him and stands up and before kent can ask, Chowder is waving for him to do the same and then–
• Then Kent Parson is being hugged by… well by his own body technically and he knows he’s described as “small for a hockey player– all sharp angles and lean muscle” so he’s assumed that he would not be that great a hugger but he feels nice enough now and Chowder’s body must have some sort of “hug instinct” because his arms come up and wrap around Chowder easily and it’s a really nice hug, if he’s being honest.
• He relaxes and closes his eyes and when he opens them, he’s staring at Chowder’s face.
• Which means he’s back in his own body.
• “Oh my god, thank goodness!” Chowder says while Kent is stretching a little bit, getting used to his usual aches and pains. “I’m the right height again! You are so fucking short, dude!”
• “I am literally like one inch shorter than you.”
• “Still!”
• And then, now, for the first time– it’s a little awkward. They… the transaction is finished. There’s no longer a reason for them to keep talking.
• “Well,” Chowder says. “I-uh– I guess I better get going. You have a game and I’m gonna go surprise my parents.”
• “Yeah,” Kent says. And then remembers and thank goodness he’s beaten the blushing out of this body (his real body) long ago. “Also, I uh– I logged into my e-mail account from your phone and, well, I got you 4 tickets. Box seats. To the game tonight. If you wanted.”
• Chowder’s eyes are widening. “You… you did???”
• “Well, you know, this screwed up your weekend and uh– as a thank you. For…being me?”
• “THIS IS AMAZING!!” Chowder says and then Kent is being hugged again and he– Chowder is like no one he has ever met.
• “So I’ll– I’ll see you tonight, I guess,” Kent says, twisting his hat around and putting on his sunglasses. “There’s passes included to meet the players, since I figured… you know… Sharks.”
• Chowder looks like he may cry and body switching or not, Kent is not down for that so he smirks, and nods, and walks out the door.

• THE END.
• I mean… basically the end.
• Really, you know this is the start of an epic friendship and Kent starts buying nicer clothes and sending them to Chowder but then also sends a Parson Ace’s jersey and Bitty glares at it for days and does not seem to buy Chowder’s excuse of “Met Parse when I went up to San Jose and he was actually a cool dude!” and Chowder and Kent keep on texting and Kent sends Chowder a picture of Kit curled up on him with the captain “See! She is nice– she is just also a genius and knew you were an imposter” and THIS FRIENDSHIP MAKES NO SENSE to ANYONE but it is happening anyway and-
• I HAVE GOT TO STop THERE. Any future kent/chowder friendship will have to be on a DIFFERENT POST.
• Thank you for reading this mess.
• I hope you enjoyed it.
• (does a part of me ship chowder/parse now?? Maybe, my dudes, maybe so.)
• (was this all a mistake?? Same answer, my dudes, maybe so.)

Chapter Text

• So, like, as mentioned, I really want this friendship to develop after they switch back but the question is like… how?? 
• In my last post I talked about how Parse would send Chowder nicer clothes (and sheets because wtf is that thread count christopher??) but i think this happened because– wait lets go back
• Okay so Chowder gets to go to the Aces/Sharks game and go backstage (not the right word for that but lets just move on) and meet people so while he is obviously ALL UP IN THE SHARKS, he introduces his family also to Kent as “and this is my friend, Kent Parson” and admist the confused stares (coming from both his family and Kent Parson), Chowder is just like “we met at Samwell!!”
• And Kent Parson, who is never really referred to as a friend (more a teammate, tbh, or “ex” or “celebrity crush) has like acquired some sort of blushing instinct (he blames his time in Chowders body) because he sort of blushes and stammers (JUST A LITTLE OKAY) before finding his cool again and–
• “Oh, also,” Chowder tells his little sister. “You gotta feel that inside of that sweater– it is like SO SOFT.” and so that is actually where Kent gets his first idea to send Chowder nicer clothes (the expensive CASHMERE clothes yaknow… (sidebar: is cashmere soft? i don’t… actually know things about nice clothes)) 
• But he doesn’t do it right away because like.. c’mon he’s not going to seem desperate here. He’s Kent Parson. He… they switched bodies for a little. Surely Chowder doesn’t actually want to… be his friend. 
• WRONG.
• Because Chowder gets on a flight and heads back to Samwell and Kent Parson gets back to Vegas (and snuggles Kit) and THEN Kent Parson gets a text.
• And that text is chirping him. Hard. For his coding notes.
• “Lol. Dude. Really?? These don’t even make sense!”
• “I told you I was bad at it! You’re lucky I tried.”
• “It looks like you gave up halfway through and started doodling hockey plays.”
• “… that is actually supposed to be some zeros and ones?? he wrote them on the board??”
• “holy shit.”
• and suddenly kent parson finds himself sort of smiling and laughing at his phone and he would say it is one conversation but then he gets a GOOD LUCK! text before his next game and then a bunch of texts DURING the game that he sees after and then-
• Then he gets a “Remember to ice your shoulder!!!” the next day and, okay, yes, it’s weird that this guy has BEEN IN HIS BODY and thus knows that his shoulder bothers him but its also… its also nice??
• So Kent Parson says fuck it. And he sends Chowder that sweater he liked so much. Because Chowder is being really nice to him and he… okay he will try to have a friend. 

• Note: Kent Parson trying to have a friend is a Disaster. because Kent Parson knows his weaknesses: He is bad at emotional conversations, he cannot give relationship advice, he is sarcastic and rude and– he is not good at being Friends with someone. Chowder’s natural friendliness is something he can appreciate but has difficulty reciprocating.
• But you know what he does have?
• Money.
• Lots and lots of money. 
• And no one to spend it on.
• Until now. 
• Kent Parson cannot say “Thank you for wishing me good luck before my games” so he buys Chowder fancy sweaters and t-shirts and fashionable pants and sends them on over. Kent Parson cannot say “It is cool you remind me to ice my shoulder” so he also sends new sheets (accompanied by pseudo-snide remarks such as “so i dont have to lay on that sandpaper if we ever have to switch back”). Kent Parson cannot tell Chowder that texting him during the day has become something of a highlight but he CAN buy chowder that coding software he was going on about and e-mail him the product key and he also can get people on the Sharks to sign stuff and mail it to Chowder and, look, he knows that getting Chowder’s family season tickets to the sharks game would be Too Much (at least… right now) but he does offer them when chowder goes home for breaks.
• Look, as they text more and more, Chowder puts up with his sarcastic sense of humor and dark moods and doesn’t seem to take it personally when kent just texts back ‘yeah whatever’ after loses.
• Chowder is just plain nice to him and Kent does his best to follow Chowder’s complaints about school and tries to offer advice when Chowder admits that sometimes he feels torn between Nursey and Dex and their constant bickering and wishes they would both just stop but Kent knows he cannot actually be that helpful. Even when Chowder texts: “gosh its nice to have someone not involved that i can vent to,” kent knows that he is not adding to chowder’s life nearly as much as chowder is adding to his.
• With the time difference, Kent now usually wakes up to a few texts from Chowder and Chowder thinks Kit is the devil but still doesn’t mind when Kent sends pictures of her and Chowder… Chowder sometimes ever so casually reminds him that he doesn’t actually need alcohol (”you could just go home dude. wanna play starcraft?”
• Oh right. That’s the other thing. Chowder has got him into computer games. Games that they can play together. On the same time. Kent has never done it before and its embarassing to be bad at something but somehow with chowder its not so bad and he’s already promised that after the season, he is going to have much more time to dedicate to it and chowder thinks that they can get really GOOD over the summer and it becomes… their thing
• When Nursey and Dex are driving Chowder crazy or Kent is actually free, the two log on and play some nerdy computer game shit (kent’s words. he keeps calling it that even after he admits he “sorta kinda likes it okay??”).
• OF COURSE BECAUSE KENT PARSON CANNOT COMMUNICATE, he just keeps SENDING GIFTS. Which Chowder accepts at first, partly because he doesnt really know how much all this shit costs.

• Nursey finally clues him in “dude, is that shirt fucking All Saints?” and Chowder is like “uh… what?” and that breaks the mystery and suddenly Chowder is like… wait a minute. this dude has sent me probably over a thousand dollars worth of nice ass clothes (and sheets and towels) all in the name of “In Case We Ever Switch Back.”
• Not To Worry: At this point it is Summer Break. Which means that Chowder can just go, meet up with Kent in person and tell him that while he appreciates the gifts, kent should probably stop. They both now know not to wish on any shooting star anymore. They are probably good. 
• So Chowder texts Kent something like “dude im home may 22nd– when are we meeting up over break?” and Kent gets it and lowkey PANICS because like… Chowder wants to hang out with him?? And he can’t even just take him to a hockey game because the season is over?? WHAT WILL THEY DO??
• Better to stay on home turf, Kent decides. He can take Chowder out in vegas and they can hit the casinos and maybe he’ll rent a limo and– “Im free anytime” he texts back, hoping that doesn’t make himself sound lame. “when do you wanna come over?”
• And then Kent Parson is thrown for a loop because Chowder ruins his plans by saying “you should come here! i’ll show you non-hockey parts of san jose! first weekend of june?? promise no one will yell at you!!” and kent… well hes not gonna say no obviously but he… he can’t take chowder to casinos if they arent in vegas and–
• “Bring your laptop” chowder says. “starcraft IN PERSON”
• Look this deserves a 15k fic of its own but picture: Kent Parson, nervous, awkward, feeling a little like he did when he visited the zimmermanns except not because he and chowder are just friends so there’s less… challenge and also he has grown up a little and so its just very embarassing for him and chowder’s whole family is the nicest and he sleeps in the guest room and they just– They play starcraft. They go see a movie. They walk around Chowder’s favorite park. They drive up to the beach with Farmer. They go to an arcade. Normal people stuff. They do normal people stuff. 
• And Chowder sits Kent down and is like “dude you gotta stop sending me presents like some kind of weirdass sugar daddy” and Kent does turn bright red at that one because he was kind of just lowkey hoping chowder didn’t notice but Chowder manages to make it not TOO awkward and then its just sort of a funny and Kent promises to stop (he wont really… chowder gets a new gaming computer for his birthday but kent claims that is because chowders weak ass system is affecting his gameplay but that not til later so thats okay)
• MORE SURPRISING is Chowder agrees to come up to vegas to celebrate kent’s birthday on july 4th. Farmer comes for part of it (but she has work) while chowder stays for five whole days and they… they stay in kents apartment and play more computer games. chowder tries to build up kent’s tolerance for spicy food and then laughs at him when he dies. they go play hockey at the rink. they just… hang out. like friends. 
• It’s weird and bizzare and THEN TO TOP IT OFF Chowder (who is a wee bit drunk at this point because they aren’t just going to not drink or gamble at all– chowder had doubled his 40 dollars today!!) says something like “do you think we can switch back again? if we tried?”
• and kent (also tipsy, but just like… tipsy. not wasted) says “uh… no?”
• and chowder says “LETS TRY” and kent says “why?” and chowder says “FOR FUN” and kent says “alright if you want”
• and the two stand and hug and kent thinks “alright switch back” and then he pulls back 
• And look into his own face
• Which is grinning at him. 
• “oh my god” chowder (in kent’s body) says. “This is gonna be so fun.”

ENDING THERE FOR NOW because i’ve got to stop writing this AU. what is this. what is my life. i don’t… i don’t even go here. 

Chapter Text

Basically, this is what happens:

At a kegster during their freshmen year, in which Shitty is running around being the life of the party even though he’s a freshman, Jack is also in attendance– talking to Berger and Marsh in the kitchen. Jack is there, partly to keep an eye on Shitty, partly because he is surprised by how much he does like some of the guys on his team, mostly because they had won today and Jack is in quite a good mood. Not a good enough mood that he is going to risk going into the living room where music is blasting, but in a good enough mood that he is holding a solo cup of beer and chilling in the kitchen, chatting with Berger and Marsh. He is at ease as Jack ever is– laughing good naturedly as they tease both him and each other and of course, this is when the trouble starts.

The trouble is this: Marsh is drunk and excited that Jack has actually shown up to a Haus kegster and since Jack seems to be in a good mood, Marsh decides to take a risk and ask Jack a Question. More specifically, Marsh rams an friendly elbow into Jack’s ribs and goes:

“Yo, Zimmermann, you like anyone on campus yet?”

A few months prior, that question would have made Jack freeze up. But now, Jack smiles easily (because honestly, it is a rather respectful question– “like” instead of “fuck”; “anyone” instead of assuming “girl”) and he certainly doesn’t want to get into his romantic history or lack of crushes so he smiles, shrugs, and says

“Nah, love’s shitty,” It’s still friendly and he smiles and asks Berg about his crush that the whole team knows about and that should be that.

The problem, however, is that what Alex Berger and Carter Marsh heard was not “Nah, love’s shitty,” but “I’m in love with Shitty.”

Which, of course, is a much bigger deal. 

Berger and Marsh manage to hold it together for the next five minutes. Then Jack disappears to go make sure Shitty is okay and they, as bros do, freak out. Because the whole team knows that Jack and Shitty are best friends and, let’s face it, most of them have heard enough of the Jack/Parse rumors to sorta maybe think that maybe sorta Jack isn’t straight but it is still hell of a way to come out, in their opinion. Guys have been gay on the Samwell Men’s Hockey team before but this would be their first in-team relationship. Like, holy shit!

And, of course, Berger and Marsh think this is both the best and worst thing to ever happen. Worst, because no one really knows Shitty’s sexuality and omg what if this ruins the epic bromance those two have going on?; Best because, hell, Shitty talks so much about all these issues so he must be a little bit not-straight and omg what if they get TOGETHER?!! Berger and Marsh are romantics. That would be fucking adorable.

But also, what if Shitty didn’t love Jack back? That would be fucking terrible.

Berger and Marsh do what any two bros would do in this situation: They decide that they have to tell Shitty. Because he will know what to do with this information. 

Fast-forward: The next morning Shitty wakes up, not as hungover as he should be, because the boy is 18 and 18 year olds don’t get hungover. Also, Shitty never drinks as much as people assume, he just is that hyper. So when Shitty wakes up, he checks his phone and sees a text. The text says:

Bro, Jack told us he likes you last night. Like LIKES you likes you. He actually said the L-bomb. We won’t tell anyone. Just thought you should know. – Berg and Marsh

PS- We have your back. Either way.

Shitty sees these texts, stares, and then calls Marsh because, frankly, this is the most surprised he’s ever been in his life. Somedays he is still amazed that Jack even likes him as a friend. And now he is apparently in love with him? This… this makes no sense. 

So Shitty calls Marsh and they tell the story and Shitty thinks: Shit. I think I’m straight. But… Jack is my boy soo… maybe not? Like maybe i don’t have to be… I don’t know. I–

And then Jack calls. Right in the middle of Shitty’s “Could I be in love with Jack?” emotional crisis.

Jack says: Breakfast?

Shitty says: Yeah, sure, bro.

Because Jack and Shitty often go to breakfast just the two of them and Shitty has decided that he is going to Act Natural for as long as possible until he figures his shit out.

However, to back things up, this is how Jack’s morning went: Jack woke up, also hangover free because he only had one beer. Jack checks his phone, just like Shitty. Jack has an e-mail.

The e-mail says that Sports Illustrated wants to run a little piece on him now that he is playing hockey again. The e-mail includes a note from his old publicist saying that she thinks it would be a good idea– great for his image and all. The e-mail tells him to let her know and maybe get a nice suit since they want to include a picture. The e-mail tells him it will be lowkey and not stressful, but that the reporter is in town only for a day so it will have to be tonight and he should let her know as soon as possible.

The e-mail stresses him out immensely. 

Jack’s go-to response to stress at this point is to meet up with Shitty and talk it out. 

So the two head off to breakfast. Jack is trying to wait until after Shitty has had coffee before talking it out because he is trying to be a good friend. And good friends don’t open conversations by dumping their problems on other people. Good friends wait until their friends have had caffeine. 

Shitty is trying to act As Normal As Possible. Because good friends don’t make their good friend feel bad about their romantic feelings and also good friends prove to their friends that romantic feelings will not make things awkward and also good friends also do their friends the honor of seriously considering whether or not they want to date them. 

But, the awkwardness does build. Jack is tense, Shitty is a hair too loud and finally, finally, Jack clears his throat and says,

“So, I- uh- I have something I want to run by you.” Shitty goes perfectly still. Jack finds this alarming and fumbles over his words more, “I mean, I- well, I guess it’s a bit awkward but I– er I mean you… you always give good advice so, I just wanted to… uh. Well, I mean–”

Shitty decides to put him out of his misery.

“I already know,” he says. Jack’s eyes squint in confusion. “Don’t ask me how,” Shitty continues because maybe Jack was drunk when he told Berger and Marsh?? Whatever, he’s not going to worry about it now. “I mean- I just do. I know.”

“Oh,” Jack says and he is relieved. Because he has been trying to be Not-Famous at Samwell and telling his friend about how Sports Illustrated wants to write an article on him feels awkward, even if it shouldn’t. It’s just to… it’s something famous people do. He’s happy not to have to spell it out. “Okay. Well… what do you think?”

Shitty probably should say: Let me think about it. He probably should say: It’s a big question and I’m not sure yet. He probably should say: I’m worried I’m straight so can we just talk this out.

But Jack looks so worried and concerned and earnest in wanting Shitty’s opinion, that what Shitty says is: “Bro, I think it’s great. Really. I think… Yeah. It’s good.”

“So you think I should go for it?” Jack clarifies. 

Again, Shitty should say any of the other responses.

Again, he says: “Yes. Totally.”

Jack pauses and then nods seriously as if all he needed was Shitty’s opinion. It’s… Shitty feels the same rush of warmth he feels whenever Jack makes it clear that Shitty matters. And, okay, before he would have said that Jack is just the first real friend he’s ever had but maybe…

Look, he’s the one who’s always saying that sexual attraction is fluid. Maybe he hasn’t been particularly attracted to men before but, fuck it, Jack is his best bro and dammit, he can push himself across the Kinsey scale if he wants to. 

“Alright,” Jack says as if it’s decided. And then picks up his cellphone and sends off a text of some sort. Shitty isn’t sure what’s up with that. Then, “Will you come shopping with me? I need a suit.”

Shitty thinks, Oh my god, he is asking me on a date right fucking now. Jack Zimmermann is not playing around. Shitty says, “Yeah, sure!”

Jack thinks, I hate picking out clothing– it is nice of Shitty to come help me find something that will look nice. Jack says, “Cool. I’ll call an Uber.”

And they’re off. Because money is still not an issue for Jack, this is how this goes down: Jack pays for them to go to the Nice Mall 45 minutes away and Shitty actually relaxes enough to stop being awkward because the driver gives them the phone and he makes Jack listen to music the kid missed. Jack then takes them into the Fancy Stores and Shitty thinks maybe he can be Jack’s boyfriend because damn the kid looks good in these clothes and he certainly has no problem telling Jack this. 

Jack thinks: Oh my god, Shitty is way too nice to me but also this is more fun than it would be if I were alone and okay I am not wearing this shade of green but I think Shitty would look great in it. Jack says: “Dude, you try this on– it will look better on you!”

Shitty thinks: Goodness gracious, Jack must have forgotten that my dad majorly cut down my allowance after I chose Samwell over Harvard. Shitty says: “Haha no way, bro. Let’s keep the focus on you.”

Jack thinks: Shitty is wasting his whole Saturday with me and he deserves a killer suit. I have lots of money. Jack says, “Dude, go try it on. My treat.”

Shitty thinks: Holy shit, being Jack’s boyfriend involves getting hundreds of dollars worth of clothing. I must not take advantage. I just will say I don’t like anything. Shitty says, “It’s not gonna fit anyway, but if it will make you happy.”

So Jack calls for the person helping them (it’s that kind of store) to bring stuff for Shitty and Jack is learning a lot about how to be a good friend from Shitty and part of that seems to be complimenting your friend as much as possible so Jack is sure to tell Shitty how good he looks. 

Shitty finds himself blushing and stammering and protesting because holy shit Jack is laying it on thick and he’s never really thought about the muscle he’s gained playing hockey more seriously but now Jack Zimmermann is telling him seriously, “Your arms look good in that shirt, Shits– your lifting is paying off” and “Good job with the squats” and “Maybe with clothes like these, you’ll keep ‘em on, eh?”

And then the worst part is Shitty feels himself getting flushed and he thinks the person helping them out gets the idea that Jack is like his sugar daddy or something (and dammit, he is growing some sort of facial hair. Because, sure Jack is a few years older than him but this is ridiculous) and then Jack insists on buying everything that he says looks good and yeah, Shitty, does think he looks good but this is the most stressful first date ever and it doesn’t help matters that they go to the food court and Jack insists on buying there too. 

Jack thinks, Shitty is such a good friend and since he is helping me, I should pay for everything. Especially since his dad keeps threatening to cut him off completely.

Shitty thinks, Jack Zimmermann believes in spoiling his partner like holy shit this kid is too much.

Shitty keeps mentally telling himself to chill; Jack tells himself that he really is so much more at ease with Shitty. Jack is having a great day. In fact, Jack thinks, he is having such a good day and so happy and maybe Shitty wouldn’t mind going to the interview with him. Obviously, it would be a bit unorthodox but it wasn’t supposed to be a long column and it’s not like Shitty would be in the pictures just… there… for moral support. 

“Hey, Shitty,” Jack says, feeling a bit nervous to be asking. “Would you mind coming with me?”

Shitty blinks at him.

“To dinner,” Jack says. “I think it would be better if you were there.”

Again with the earnestness. And the slightly shy way he looks down. And the nervous way his fingers drum against the table just once. 

Shitty blushes down to his toes. He doesn’t know if he’s in love with Jack, but dammit he loves the kid.

“Of course,” he says. Jack beams at him. 

“Thanks,” Jack says. “Uh- I know it might be a bit awkward but…”

“Hey, no,” Shitty says. “It’s going to be great.” Jack takes a breath and gives a pained expression.

“I hope so,” he says. “I mean it’s just… it’s been a while, you know?”

A reminder: Jack is talking about being interviewed. Shitty thinks he is talking about dating.

“Psh, it’s you and me, brah!” Shitty says, putting on his best smile. “What could go wrong?”

Jack smiles. “I feel like the answer to that is: A lot.”

“You wound me.”

“You’ll have to not curse so much.”

“What? Why?” Shitty says, half-pretending, half-honestly worried that dating Jack involves cleaning up his dirty mouth.

“It’s going to be a pretty nice restaurant,” Jack says.

“Oh, thank god,” Shitty replies. “As long as it’s not all the time.”

Jack barks a laugh. “No, not all the time. Just tonight.”

Shitty would have assumed that Jack was done with shopping, but they pass a Lush and Shitty exclaims “Oh BATH BOMBS” without thinking about it and, seriously, Jack has some sort of problem because before he knows it, they’ve purchased like $150 dollars worth of bath products and Shitty keeps trying to reassure himself that some of it is for Jack and Jack keeps smiling and saying, “Yes, of course I’ll use it, Shits,” but he is hundo p lying and Shitty knows that it is going to be up to him to use all of this. Unless… oh god, does Jack think that maybe they are going to be using this stuff together??

Shitty is barely holding it together by the time they get home.

Luckily, he gets a bit of a break. He and Jack separate for what’s left of the afternoon (”I gotta get ready” Jack says and Shitty isn’t not quite sure what that means but good lord, if Jack is off to “get ready” for their date, Shitty is going to do the same.)

Of course, figuring it out is a fair bit of stress. But he takes a shower and puts on cologne and, look, this is awkward and probably very unnecessary because he does not think they are going to go this far on their first date because, for fuck’s sake, he’s not going to be ready but he has the extra time so fuck it. He makes sure he is extra clean. Everywhere. Just cause, fuck, who even knows what his life is at this point. 

A distant part of his mind knows that he is not being fair to himself. That he needs to talk with Jack about what this means for him and that he is allowed to slow this down if he needs to. That there is a difference between being supportive and not seeing to your own needs. He knows all these things and has preached all these things and yet–

And yet, when he comes down and meets Jack who is wearing the dark royal blue (but not navy) suit that Shitty had said he liked the best and who is looking positively pale with nerves, Shitty promises himself that he will not let Jack down. He is going to give this kid the best first date he’s ever had. He’s going to–

God, Jack looks nervous. Shitty puts on his best smile. Tells himself his emerald suit brings out his eyes. 

“Hey, man,” he says. “You ready for this?”

Jack’s smile looks a bit sick. “Uh… Yeah. I mean, I think–” He fumbles for a bit and then gives up talking altogether. He does that sometimes. Shitty knows. Shitty is Jack’s best friend. 

Shitty may or may not be Jack’s boyfriend at this point. He’s not sure. 

“Dude, it’s gonna be fine,” Shitty says, stepping forward. “What part are you most nervous about?”

Jack blinks at him. “I don’t know? Uh… all of it? Or, I mean– I guess the end? Like, you know, how it ends up.”

Jack is thinking: I don’t want it to be a big deal. I want it to show that I’m doing okay. I want people to know I’m not a drug addict anymore. I want people to know that I am happy.

Shitty is thinking: The end? Like… the goodnight kiss? Is that what he’s thinking about? Fuck, he looks so nervous. I don’t want this whole date for him to be too nervous to enjoy it. Oh, fuck, I’m just gonna… Fuck, let’s just try this.

Shitty says, “Okay, deep breath, bro,” he reaches out and tangles his hands in Jack’s (and he’s done that part before during panic attacks so he’s all good, for real, and he thinks Jack relaxes a little bit) and hoooollly shit, he’s gonna do this. To be honest, he’s not entirely sure how he feels but Jack has been so nice and bought him so much stuff and he looks so scared and– “Let’s just skip to the end then.”

And then Shitty kisses him. 

It is… not great.

Jack freezes. Shitty had to come up on his toes a little bit because Jack is a smidge taller (and is not leaning down to meet him halfway here) and suddenly Shitty is very uncertain of how long a kiss is supposed to last and also, to be honest, he hasn’t made out with that many people and, crap, this has been going on too long hasn’t it? Especially since Jack still hasn’t moved??

And Shitty hates to admit it, but he thinks he really is quite straight. 

Shitty pulls away, wincing a little bit. Just because… shit this was awkward. 

Jack is staring at him. Jack is currently thinking: What the fuck is happening?

“I’m so sorry!” Shitty blurts, looking away and covering his face. “Jack, I love you so much, man, but I just– I think I am straight. I’m so sorry. I– we can return all the stuff you bought me, because I just– I just don’t think I can date you!”

“What?” Jack says. 

“I tried, really!” Shitty continues. “I’m just– I’m just fucking straight as shit and you are objectively beautiful and I want to be in love with you but I’m not but I still want to be best friends! Please tell me we can still do that!”

“What?” Jack repeats. “What are you talking about?”

“Berger and Marsh told me,” Shitty says, calming down a little just because he should try to hold it together for Jack here. “That you’re– that you like me. And I was hoping that–”

“Shitty,” Jack says, cutting him off before he can get ramped up again. “Shitty, I don’t like you. Like that.”

Shitty stills. “What? You don’t?”

“No,” Jack says. “No, they must have misheard me. I mean, I don’t even know where– Oh.”

“Oh? Oh what?”

“Last night, “Jack explains. “Last night I said that love is shitty. Like… I don’t like anyone on campus. They must have misheard.”

“But then… why are we going on a date?” Shitty is still so confused.

“I have an interview,” Jack says. “With Sports Illustrated. In– fuck, in half an hour now. They want to do dinner, a couple pictures and a short segment on me now that I am in college. I thought I would have more fun if you came along. I checked with the guy– Dan Erikson. He said it was okay.”

“So you… you invited me to an interview,” Shitty repeats slowly. “We are dressed up for an interview. With Sports Illustrated.”

“Yes,” Jack says. “I’m sorry, Shits. I just– fuck, I really have to go. I understand if you–”

“No!” Shitty says. “No, I’ll come! Let’s… Let’s go do an interview!”

The climb in the uber and the beginning is a bit awkward, both trying to put together exactly what happened and then about five minutes in, Shitty starts giggling. And then Jack starts laughing and then they start comparing notes (”Brah, you told me my ass looked good! What was I supposed to think?” “Shitty, you tell me my ass looks good almost every day!” “Well, your butt is like… scary beautiful, you know that.”) And Jack chirps Shitty about his mistake until Shitty starts chirping Jack about how much money he dropped on a friend and how, excuse me, the person at the store totally thought the same thing, and Jack replies that there was still no reason for Shitty to just kiss him and Shitty grumbles about all the extra time he took to take a shower and Jack finds that hilarious and–

In the end, Jack is still to busy laughing at the whole situation to even be nervous about the interview. 

For years, Shitty still refers to that day as the best date he’s ever been on.

Chapter Text

Jack phones buzzes. Again. 

He glares at it until it stops. Then turns back to his eggs. 

Of course, then it starts up. Again.

That makes the fifth time this morning. And it’s only 10am. 

“Holy shit, Zimmermann,” Mark Winger says, unnecessarily loud. Mark Winger is always unnecessarily loud. And since he is sitting three seats down from Jack, the rest of the table goes silent. “Who the fuck is texting you?”

Jack feels his face heat up. It’s only the second week of practice and it’s weird because he doesn’t know these people but they all know him–or at least they know enough. They know he was good at hockey and then fucked it all up and they know who his dad is and his mom and they know because everyone knows and he…

He is not used to being the new guy. He doesn’t remember the last time he was the new guy. At least, not the new guy on a hockey team. And sure he’s good but also crazy and they know it and it just makes him feel tight and unsure and–

“No one,” Jack says when it becomes clear people actually expect him to answer. (God he wishes they wouldn’t do that. Just let him sit quietly. Play hockey. Not talk). 

His phone buzzes again. He glances at the screen. 

“Brah, no one has texted you like 18 thousand times,” Dave Cohen says. His tone is a bit nicer but the question still stands. 

“It’s just my parents,” Jack finally mumbles. He shovels a huge bite of eggs in his mouth to try and stave off any other questions. 

“Awww, does little Zimms need to check in with his mama and papa?” Winger says and the mood shifts. Jack sees some people frown but some of the other boys are annoyed that he is here, he knows it, and ribbing is pretty much a part of hockey culture so he should have some sort of come back to this and it’s somehow even more embarrassing that he is older than some of these boys but still a freshmen and a fuck-up and he doesn’t–

“Aw, shit man,” a voice comes and Jack glances to his left to see one of the walk-ons called Shitty sliding into the seat next to him. “You just wish Alicia Zimmermann was texting you on the regular. Dude, you must know you have no chance with that ugly fucking face of yours.”

The table howls with laughter– probably more than the comment deserves but it’s a freshmen taking on a senior so there is backslapping and “fuck, he got you, Winger!” and the conversation turns. Something about Winger’s last girlfriend. Jack puts his head down and doesn’t listen. Instead he reaches for his phone. He’s got to text his parents and tell them to stop texting him every freaking minute.

He gets it. He knows they are nervous and that they want to hear from him but fuck it, he is not a goddamn teenager and he’s lived away from home for years before this and he doesn’t need his parents updating them on their breakfast foods. 

Guys, I’m fine, he types in, ignoring his dad’s question about whether he is eating ice cream for breakfast and his mom’s comment that she knows from experience the chocolate is better than vanilla. Stop texting me all the–

“Sorry to objectify your mom, brah,” the kid sitting next to him says. “But sometimes to get the assholes off your back, you gotta speak their language, you know?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack says. If he still bothered getting upset about people objectifying his mom, he’d never get anything else done. “That’s okay.”

He goes to refocus on sending his message. 

“Dude, that kid is a fucking dick,” Shitty says. Jack is not entirely sure they’ve ever talked before. All he knows about Shitty is that his stick handling is alright but he has trouble sticking to plays and sometimes his attention wanders but he seems to really like hockey even when he gets yelled at. “Thank god we only have to put up with him for a year.”

“Yeah,” Jack says, looking up from his phone. He is not good at multitasking and it seems this kid is going to talk to him no matter what. And his mom had said he should try to… make friends. Whatever that means. 

“I just can’t stand jerks who are jerks for no reason, you know? Like… I think it’s fucking awesome your parents are texting you. That’s nice as fuck.”

“Uh… yeah,” Jack says again. He is not sure how much input Shitty actually requires from him. But at that moment, Shitty tries to stuff an entire slice of french toast into his mouth so there is a lull. “Erhm, have you heard from your parents?”

Shitty snorts a laugh and almost chokes. Jack pats him on the back. Cautiously. 

“Ah, fuck, nearly killed me. Nah, man, no way.”

Shitty is younger than him. Actually a freshmen. It has been two weeks. 

“Oh,” Jack says. It suddenly occurs to him that maybe Shitty’s parents are… dead? Sick? Gone?

“I’ve been in boarding school for forever,” Shitty says. “My dad is kinda… eh, you know. A lawyer. So he’ll check in to see what I’m doing for Thanksgiving? Around then. And my mom is a professor so it will be Fall break. We have it down to a science. What’s happening on your home front?”

“They’re telling me to eat ice cream for breakfast,” Jack says because it doesn’t occur to him to lie. “They’re just… you know, worried I think.”

“Dude, that machine is turned on this early?” Shitty says and then he’s standing. “That’s fucking awesome!”

Jack stares at him. 

“Well?” Shitty says. He looks like he’s waiting for something. Jack blinks. “Are you coming? Let’s try this shit!”

Jack opens his mouth to say that there is no nutritional value in ice cream and dairy right before lifting isn’t a great idea and–

“Come on!”

Shitty bounds off and he moves with the same reckless energy he has on the ice and Jack has no idea why but it feels like right now, Shitty is on his line and he’s on a break and it’s Jack’s job to follow.

So he does. He doesn’t manage to offer his mother’s advice that the chocolate is better (feels to awkward to say anything as he and Shitty move towards the machine) but Shitty gets that anyway and Jack decides on a mix so he can at least try the vanilla and, later, he deletes the text he was going to send and sends:

Got a mix. I liked the vanilla better actually.

It starts a debate that makes his phone buzz for a solid 45 minutes but… well, maybe that’s okay. 

Maybe that’s kind of nice. 

Chapter Text

Based on the following ask:

I wish you would write a fic where jack comes back from going to kiss bitty at graduation and his parents chirp him SO HARD bc his phone keeps goign off and he's all pleased and bashful about it and doesn't outright admit anything but it's SUPER CLEAR what happend

“Well, that one clearly just got laid,” you say to Ashlyn as the two of you finally get the chance to stand still and lean against the bar. You’re behind it and she’s in the little nook that servers hide in when they don’t want their tables to see them. She swivels her head to see who you are looking at. 

“Which one?”

“Table 4. Dark suit, blue tie, looks just like his dad.”

Ashlyn looks. Then giggles. “You’re fucking right about that. Look at him!”

“So laid,” you agree. “Probably after the ceremony too. And good too. You don’t walk around with a smile like that unless you got right fu–”

“Excuse me?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Hard. Because this place isn’t particularly fancy–but it is the traditional college bar and it is graduation. Which means all the alums and parents are back and you probably should not be talking like this. It’s a classy day. 

And it only gets worse as it turns because this place isn’t classy, but, goodness, this woman is. Reddish-blond hair perfectly styled in that long-bob that’s so in right now, red and white dress, fashionable belt, and blue eyes expertly enhanced by the slightest bit of brown eyeliner. Ugh. After only 4 hours of tending bar on graduation day, you are pretty sure you look like some sort of monster.

Also, she looks vaguely familiar. As if maybe you’ve seen her somewhere. Somewhere important?

Also, she is a paying customer who just overheard you gossiping about how one of the newly graduated college boys probably had sex within the past hour so…

Not a great moment for you, to be honest. 

Ashlyn spins as if she’s going to make a break for it under the guise of helping a table but all her tables are eating peacefully (or just talking) and so she ends up just leaning away, still in the nook, and pretending you weren’t talking to her. 

“Oh, hi!” you say, brightly. “How can I help you?”

“Just wanted to let you know the ladies’ room is almost out of toilet paper,” she says. You begin to nod. You will handle that right away, ma’am; you will– “I already pulled some out from under the sink so you’re good for a little while but there was only one more roll down there so… when you get a second.”

You blink. This woman does not look like the type of woman who would risk opening the disgusting sink and looking underneath. 

“I used to work here back in the day,” she says with a smile. You relax. “So who just got laid?”

You un-relax. And blush. 

“Oh, no one. We were just–”

“Please,” the woman says. “Somehow my husband and son are talking hockey and I’m bored out of my mind. Fill me in on the gossip.”

“Hockey is a big deal here,” Ashlyn pipes up, now that the woman seems friendly enough. “We don’t follow any of it but after games it’s always crazy.”

“Yes, well, I don’t hate it but I’ve heard it before,” she says. “So. Gossip. Also, could I grab a glass of wine. I know it’ll be a bar tab too, don’t worry about it. Are you talking about the boy in the corner? His hair certainly looks like it. ”

You snort a laugh. That’s true. But you are pretty sure that’s ‘I have grown too used to just waking up and stumbling to class’ hair rather than sex hair.

“No, no,” you say, starting to pour her glass. “Though his hair is messy. We’re talking about Blushy McBlusherman over on the right. By the window.”

The woman turns and frowns, eyes scanning.

“Dark suit, light blue tie,” Ashlyn supplies. “Talking to his hot dad right now. They look pretty much the same.”

“Except,” you add, sliding the glass of wine over to her. “Junior just got laid. Kid’s got full on sex eyes.”

The woman must see who you’re talking about because her eyes lock on the target and she sort of freezes and stares and–

“Really?” she says. She sounds a bit delighted. Young for a moment as if you are all only in high school talking about this. Then she sort of composed herself and turns back to you, a doubtful look on her face. “How can you tell?”

“Look at his blush!” you say. “And the sex eyes.”

“It’s a whole vibe,” Ashlyn adds. “He’s got a sex vibe.”

“He could be a little tipsy,” she replies. Not true disagreement, just enough to get the debate going. You lean forward.

“No, no, watch,” you tell her. “He’s got his phone in his hand under the table. He’s letting his dad talk while he texts like every few minutes. And every time he texts, the blush gets worse.”

“Also, the smile,” Ashlyn adds, leaning in too. “Right side of his face. Unless his dad is talking about… I don’t know giving him a million dollars for graduation, that is a ‘I got laid’ smile.”

“I don’t see him texting,” the woman says.

“Watch,” you tell her. “He’s not that great at hiding it.”

“Pretty sure the dad knows,” Ashlyn says. “He’s definitely monologuing but in that ‘I know you aren’t listening way.’“

“Oh good point,” you say. You hadn’t noticed that bit. Watching Junior is more fun. He’s hot. And blushy. It’s cute.

“You really think so?” the woman says. “But… but when? When would he have had time?”

“Not sure,” you say. This is fun, now. You feel like a detective. “But with a smile like that and that much texting I would say it had to be sometime after the ceremony.”

“Or during the ceremony,” Ashlyn says and there’s a crude gesture and you laugh and the woman looks a little taken back by this and a smidge offended but Ashlyn notices and stops quickly and the woman doesn’t actually say anything. Just swivels back and looks again. Smiling a little bit. 

“I wonder who with,” she says, more to herself than anyone. But you are a bartender and it is pretty much your job to answer when people are mostly talking to themselves. 

“Whoever is on the other end of that text chain,” you reply. “Someone he knew though.”

“Oh yeah, no way this is a random hookup,” Ashlyn says. “The blush, the smile, he keeps fiddling with his tie.”

“That’s a ‘I’m in love’ tie fiddle if I’ve ever seen one.”

“In love?” the woman says, sounding even more alarmed. But she’s grinning.

“Oh yeah,” you say. “This was like… years of sexual tension, all coming out at graduation. A goodbye but also a start. This was epic. I feel it.”

“I’m calling it right now,” Ashlyn declares, banging the bar. “He’s gonna marry whoever he just had sex with! I’d bet ten dollars.”

You laugh and Ashlyn makes eye contact with someone at one of her tables and hurries off. “Twenty dollars!” she calls over her shoulder. You laugh and step back as Vinny brings out fresh glasses and watch the woman as she watches the boy once again text someone under the table and blush and smile about it. 

“In love,” she repeats. It’s not quite a question this time. “He’s in love.”

You want to tell the woman that she should probably look away now. They are pretty far back but she has been staring like a creeper and you open your mouth to say, look, that couple clearly hates each other and is only there for their kid who is graduating and–

“Thank you,” she says a bit abruptly but she turns and she means it. You hope her family stops talking about hockey. Clearly this poor woman is bored out of her mind. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you say. “Come back for gossip about strangers in the bar anytime!”

She laughs a little at that and pulls out her wallet and you want to tell her not to bother, that the glass of wine was on the house, but she is moving sort of frantically now (and, fair, she had been away from her family for a good five-ten minutes).

“He is love,” she repeats. “That is… that is just wonderful. I- I have to get back.”

She sort of throws money on the bar and waves a little as she walks away and then she is walking towards Table 4 and what the fuck is she–

She slides in to the empty seat. The dad looks over at her and smiles in that way happily married people do when they see their partner after a short absence and she reaches out to casually touch her son’s shoulder and the conversation doesn’t stop so she’s not interrupting, she belongs there which means that just-got-laid boy is her son. 

Just-got-laid boy is her son. Sex Eyes is her son. What the. 

This is it. This is how you go.

“Oh my god,” Ashlyn says. You hadn’t even noticed she was walking back towards you. “Did we just tell that kid’s mom that he–”

“Yup,” you say. It’s all you can manage. “Yes we did.” 

Ashlyn stares at you. Idly puts whatever order she just got into the machine, then turns to stare at the family. Then back at you. 

Holy shit. You are pretty sure your face is so red you are going to combust at any second. 

“Oh my god,” Ashlyn says again. “Well. She asked! And, at least she paid for her wine.”

That reminds you and you tear your eyes away from the table and look down at the bill she slide over to you and–

Oh.

It’s a stack of bills. 

It’s a stack of twenties. 

It’s… she’s given you… you pick them up to count. 

She’s given you two hundred and forty dollars. 

“Still,” Ashlyn is saying, shaking her head. “She could complain to Tony because I think that’s what I would do if someone told me my son had sex eyes.”

“Ashlyn,” you say even though Ashlyn is on one of her rants now.

“We also called her husband a DILF at one point I think. Or was that just me? In my head? Oh, god, either way this is–”

“Ashlyn.”

“I bet twenty dollars. Twenty dollars on her son’s marriage.”

“Ashlyn,” you finally break through and she looks at you.

You hold up the cash.

“I don’t think she minded.”

Chapter Text

It’s not something Bitty would have ever expected, but by March of his Freshmen year, he has sort of forgotten that Ransom and Holster are objectively huge.

He is just used to it. He is used to being crammed in the middle as they subtly steer him while he looks at his phone and they talk literally over his head. He is used to glaring upwards when he needs to glare and, really, sometimes it’s strange when he meets up with new people and suddenly his neck isn’t craning. Sure, if he has to describe them to his family or friends from Georgia, he will usually throw in their height but it’s not the first thing he mentions anymore.

 Ransom and Holster are just his big, dumb, goofy friends. They have a best friend handshake and eat best friend sundaes and he knows they must be intimidating on the ice but that’s never directed at him. They even know not to include him when they start roughhousing. He texts them gifs of big dogs doing dumb things with the hashtag: “#isthisyou.”

The point is: It’s a bit surprising when he slides into his usual seat in American History 102, next to a very nice girl named Greta, who turns to him with a somewhat astonished face.

“Eric!” Bitty waves a hello, even though privately he prefers Bitty nowadays. He had met Greta in 101, though, before he knew to introduce himself as such. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” he says, reaching for his bookbag and hoping he remembered to bring his history notebook.

“About the fight,” she says. “I mean, obviously, you heard. Do you have the details?”

“Err—“ he starts. The other students are leaning forward, waiting to hear his answer. “I’m sorry, I haven’t got the faintest what y’all’re talking about.”

“The fight,” Greta says. “With the hockey players!”

Bitty thinks back to their last game. Fighting isn’t actually allowed in the NCAA but there had been a bit of a tousle when one of the guys from Northeastern ran into Johnson and Jack got in his face. Bitty wouldn’t exactly call it a fight but maybe to the uniformed…

“I mean, it wasn’t a real fight,” Bitty says. “Jack is too disciplined for that but you don’t skate into a team’s goalie and Johnson was a tad slow getting up so—“

“What are you talking about?” Greta says. “It most definitely was a real fight. My friend Yazmine said there was blood everywhere!”

“What?” Bitty says.

“They’re your friends,” Greta replies. “How do you not know about this? The two huge ones that walk you around places!”

“Ransom and Holster?” Bitty says. “You think Ransom and Holster got into a fight?”

“Apparently it was vicious,” a boy pipes up from the back. Bitty doesn’t think he’s ever spoken before. “Like… outta a movie type level.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bitty says, slightly annoyed for no reason that he can name. He would know if his friends got in a fight. It would be all over the group chat. He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone to double check.

“No one’s texted about it,” he says, confident that these people must be wrong. “Y’all must have the wrong guys.”

“No way,” another student—Rhodes—says. “I mean, those dudes are terrifying. I saw them once corner this kid, Chad, and talk to him… they didn’t do anything but… nah, I wouldn’t mess with them.”

“This one was bad though,” Usually-Quiet Boy says. “It was a real fight. And the blond one got hit pretty hard.”

A seed of worry unfurls low in Bitty’s stomach.

“When did this happen?”

“At lunch. I think around noon? I dunno,” Greta says. “We thought you’d know all about it!”

It was almost 1 o’clock. By all rights, Bitty should know all about it. Which makes him suspicious. And worried.

“I gotta go,” he says, shoving his notebook (he had even managed to bring the right one this time!) back into his bag. One more missed class won’t hurt him (okay, it might, but whatever. He’s never going to be an A student).

“Get the deets!” Greta calls after him and he nods, even though he won’t give them to her even if he gets them. He’s already shooting off a text to Lardo: Anyone at the Haus?

Luckily, her reply is immediate: Nope, kitchen’s free if you want it.

Bitty scowls at his phone, doesn’t answer, and adjusts his trajectory. If they aren’t at the Haus, they must be at Faber. He quick marches there, using the kind of walk that gets him and his Mama through the whole County Farmer’s Market in only ten minutes with everything they need. Then he pushes his way in, heading for the locker room.

Only to stop as he hears voices coming from the trainer’s room.

“… got to stop this. It’s not freshman year anymore, guys. People know you are on the hockey team.”

That was Jack. He did not sound happy. But not particularly angry either. More resigned.

“Look, don’t worry about it. They aren’t going to say anything. They don’t want what they said getting out to the public. And Ransom could you be careful with those things!”

“You need to stop talking and hold still! Also, if it helps, Jack, I think technically they won.”

“That does not make it better.”

“They did not win!”

“I am literally stitching up your face.”

At that, Bitty decides he’s had enough of waiting. He barges into the trainer’s room.

 He is not happy at what he sees. Ransom is hold a needle and medical thread and is, indeed, literally stitching up a gash under Holster’s eye. There’s blood dribbling down his cheek and dripping onto his shorts. As Ransom flinches toward the sound, Bitty sees that his ear is bleeding. And the knuckles of the hand Bitty can see are bruised and split open. At least, he thinks it is—as soon as he walks in, Jack is neatly stepping into his line of vision. Glaring. Of course.

“Good lord!” Bitty says. “What on—“

“You shouldn’t be here,” Jack interrupts.

Bitty spares a moment to roll his eyes at Jack and then simply slides around him. He knows by this point that Jack never actually back up his glares with anything but more glares and occasionally some muttered French. And that is not about Bitty. These are his friends and he is not going to let Mr. Grumpypants stop him.

He had planned to be angry at them. But there’s blood and it’s clear that Holster’s eye is going to swell up and one of Ransom’s nice shirts is ripped and—

“Oh my god,” Bitty says, suddenly feeling a bit shaky. He’s not good with blood. One time his Mama sliced herself open while opening a can of peaches and he’d nearly passed out ‘fore he could call Coach in from the study to help. And she hadn’t even ended up needing stitches. “What- what happened?”

“Fell down some stairs,” Ransom says immediately. Unfortunately, at the same time, Holster replies: “Ran into a wall.”

“Y’all,” Bitty says.

“Just tell him,” Jack grunts.

“Oh, you know, Bits,” Holster says, going for what he must think is a winning smile even though it makes his face start bleeding more. “Just the usual.”

“The usual?” Bitty repeats. “There is nothing usual about this!”

“That’s true,” Ransom says. “Usually we win.”

“It was a cheap shot,” Holster says. “What kind of douchebag even wears their high school ring!”

“So it’s true,” Bitty says. “You two were fighting?”

It doesn’t seem like it could be real. A fight. A real fight where people needed stitches afterwards. He is—His friends—Bitty thought he had found himself a group of teammates who didn’t fulfill the stereotypes about jocks who got into stupid fights but now…

“Yes,” Jack says, glaring at the two of them. “Even though if word gets out, they could both be suspended or kicked off the team and then we’d be without our two best defensemen and—“

“Who cares about hockey?” Bitty snaps at Jack and, oh look, he is angry now. “How could you two be so stupid? What could possibly be worth hitting someone over? I- I thought you two were better than to use your freakish size to hurt people.”

“Woah, woah,” Holster says. “We don’t start the fights, Bitty.”

“It’s a last resort!” Ransom says. “When people—“

“Usually lax bros,” Holster inserts.

“Yeah, we just step in and educate when fucking lax bros start saying shit about—“

Holster abruptly cuts off. Ransom is suddenly very focused on stitching up his face instead of talking. Even looking over at Jack shows that he is very carefully looking away too. Something settles in Bitty’s stomach. He’s not sure what.

“Saying shit about what?” His voice drops just like his Mama’s does when she’s serious.

“Lots of stuff,” Holster mutters. “Just… uneducated stuff. About… stuff.”

Bitty turns his glare up a notch and focuses on Ransom.

“You know like… uneducated. Like global warming doesn’t exist. And women aren’t as good as men at things.”

“Maternity leave!” Holster says. “They were anti-maternity leave which anyone can tell you is just—“

“So you’re telling me that you boys got into a fistfight over maternity care.”

Both boys wince. Jack straight-up face palms in Bitty’s peripheral vision.

“And climate change?” Holster adds, his voice sliding into a question.

“Climate change,” Bitty repeats.

“Okay, they might have thrown in a few comments of a more… homophobic nature,” Ransom adds.

“About me,” Bitty says. It’s not a question.

“Look, Bits,” Holster says, pushing Ransom’s hand away from his face. “They were being dicks. Huge dicks. And we can’t just let them get away with it.”

“You could at least try to ignore them,” Jack mumbles. “This is the fourth one this year.”

Bitty gasps. Four? Over him? And he hadn’t even been there so it’s not like it was necessary and, you know what, Jack was absolutely right, this was a stupid risk for them to be taking and Holster is hurt like actually hurt. If Ransom weren’t pre-med and if the both of them weren’t crazy, Holster would be at a hospital right now.

It’s unacceptable.

“If you are telling me that you boys are out there getting in fights out of some misguided attempt to defend my honor—“

“Hey! No!” Holster says, jerking away from Ransom. “That’s not fair. It’s not justyou.”

“We’ve had to set these lax bros straight on a lot of things,” Ransom says, holding up fingers on the hand that isn’t currently attached to Holster’s face by thread. “Lardo’s role as manager of the team. Johnson being a freakshow. Jack’s so-called drug addiction.”

“Jack even got in a fight with us last year,” Holster says, shooting a look at Jack like he’s never been more proud. Bitty turns find Jack’s shoulders hunched almost up to his ears.

“They were coming after Shitty,” Jack mutters. “Calling him… really bad things.”

Bitty doesn’t know why but for some reason the knowledge that they aren’t just fighting for him but for the whole team makes it easier to bear. Even if they are still idiots. They are… they are his idiots.

“Why haven’t I heard about these fights?” he asks, taking a step closer to take a better look at Holster’s face. “I don’t even think Lardo knows about this.” As he realizes this, he frowns. That’s maybe the most concerning part of all of this. Lardo is their manager. Lardo knows everything.

“That’s because no one is supposed to know about this,” Jack says. He’s suddenly the captain again. “And no one is going to find out.” He includes Bitty in his glare this time.

“I think most people already know,” Bitty says. “I mean, I found out because freshmen in my history class asked me about it.”

“Rumors we can deal with,” Jack says. “As long as none of them are confirmed.”

“Don’t worry so much, Jack,” Holster says. “We know the drill. We were in a car accident.”

“Fender bender, really,” Ransom confirms. “Holster hit his head on the wheel though.”

Jack sighs, glares around the room one more time, and then nods.

“Alright. I’ll see if I can talk to Captain Chad. At least they’re athletes too. They also want this kept away from administration. No more fights, though.”

Holster and Ransom flash him matching insincere grins.

“And Bitty,” Jack adds as he turns. “No pies for them. No rewards.”

He’s gone before Bitty can protest. These boys need to heal. That means pie!

“Alright, now for real, stop talking,” Ransom says, turning back to Holster. “Let me finish this!”

“Not until Bitty promises to make us pie,” Holster says.

“Fair point.”

Holster pouts at him while clasping his bruised hands in front of him. Ransom leans back and flutters his eyelashes. Bitty glares at him but neither of them move except to somehow open their puppy eyes even wider.

They are stupid. They are big, dumb, stupid jocks who get in actual fistfights of all things, like that is a reasonable response to people, even if those people are assholes. Still…

“Well,” Bitty starts. “I have on good authority Jack is in class from 2-3 which gives me an hour and a half if I leave and start now…”

Ransom flutters harder. Holster’s eyes are practically watering. Though that might be the swelling and stitches.

“Oh, alright, fine,” Bitty says, heading for the door. “Don’t tell Jack.”

“No problem!” Holster says. “We’re great at keeping secrets from Jack. We’ve actually been in six fights this year!”

Bitty flaps a hand at them over his shoulder without looking back. He really doesn’t need to know. He’ll just keep an eye out.

And make more pies.

Chapter Text

Original anonymous message: All day long at work, I kept thinking about Samwell bake sales for whatever reason. That would be a sweet four years (no pun intended lol)

 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” 

You are two feet away from the door of your ECON101 class when suddenly someone is pulling you backwards. And into a nearby bathroom. And then starts pulling off your shirt.

Of all the things you expected to happen on a Tuesday afternoon at Samwell University, this was pretty low on the list.

“What the–” That’s about all you manage to get out and it’s muffled because your shirt is rucked up to your armpits.

“Bro, hurry,” the voice says and you finally place it. Chad. S or T. You’re not sure. 

“Dude, stop, what are you doing?”

“Your shirt,” Chad S or T says. “Put it inside out. Now.”

You obey because Chad S is a senior and maybe this is some form of hazing? Either way he is a senior and you’re a freshmen so it makes sense to listen to him. 

“Fuck, Chad, hurry,” the Chad in front of you says. 

“I’m trying,” you say. This probably would have been easier if he had remembered to take off your backpack before ripping your clothes off. Also, does this mean you aren’t going to Econ?

“Not you, baby Chad. Chad T,” Chad - he must be S, or maybe P? - says. He waves his phone in your face. “Texting. Are you inside out yet?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you says, pulling your shirt back on. His eyes scan over you. 

“No other Lax gear on?”

“No?”

“Perfect, let’s go, rookie, I got the text four minutes ago.”

And then he walks out. 

“Wait!” you call, grabbing your things to follow him. “Wait, where are we going? Is this hazing?”

“What?” Chad S says, looking over his shoulder at you. “Fuck, no, you will know when you are being hazed, fucker. This is– I’m doing you a fucking favor, shithead.”

“You are?” This is definitely Chad S. Chad S is the angriest according to your charts. 

“Hell yeah, bro,” Chad S, cutting wildly across the lawn. “You’re not on the real lax groupchat yet but Chad W sent out the word.”

“Word?”

“He saw them loading up their old shitty car,” Chad S says, walking directly through a group of girls and almost knocking two over. “Which means only one thing.”

They arrive at the entryway to the cafeteria, where there appears to be a rather large group of people already gathered. Chad S nods at the group.

“The Hockey team is having a bake sale.”

You are not sure what this information means. The only thing you have heard about the hockey team is that they are all a bunch of losers, aren’t really that good at hockey even if their old captain is starting for the Falconers, and are the fucking worst. You’re not sure why you is being dragged to their bake sale…

Unless… God, you hope you aren’t there to ruin it. Like, sure, you believe in team rivalries as much as the next guy (you had participated in the prank war between the lacrosse team and the track team in high school) but you don’t want to destroy some other team’s baked goods! And, hey, that one kid Whisk is pretty cool. 

“No, look, I fucking hate the hockey team,” Chad S says. “But, fuck do they make some delicious pies so here–” he shoves a wad of twenties at you “go buy everything. Seriously. Everything.”

“What? Why do I have to go?”

“They fucking hate us,” Chad S says. “Won’t sell to us. But you- you are a fucking freshmen. They won’t recognize you. So go. Keep your head down. Try not to say anything. Steer clear of the tall blond one and the black one with the cheekbones.”

With the cheekbones?

“They know everyone the moment they step foot on campus. And the asian chick. Shit, don’t go near her at all. She has a sixth sense for lax bros.”

You stand on your tippy-toes to get a better look. Honestly, his list of “people to avoid” now spans 3/5 people who are selling baked goods. Your only options are now a very short blond guy and another asian dude who is bouncing up and down too rapidly to actually sell anything.

Chad S shoves you forward and you aim yourself towards the blond kid. Of course, he’s in the middle of the crowd so you have to spin to avoid all the others and by the time you get there you aren’t sure exactly how much is left. Still, at least you make it. By this point, there’s basically a riot in front of the stand.

“Well, hello!” the blond boy says. He is flushed and has money falling out of his pockets. “What can I get for you?”

“Uh,” you say, trying to squint at what’s available and how much things cost without lifting your head. “Uh, I guess one of… everything?”

“Aw, you’re a freshman, huh?” the boy says, not unkindly. “First time away from home?”

You nod. That seems safer than saying anything.

“Well, let me put together a plate for you,” he says, turning around. “I have an empty pie plate over here– plastic, which is a sin unto itself but not even I have enough for these events and well, it is a good cause! Hockey equipment isn’t cheap, you know!”

Again, nodding seems like the best option. You are good at nodding. You nod as he offers you different types of pie, accepting all of them. You nod when he worries if this is going to be too expensive and asks if you are sure. You nod when he asks you if you are enjoying your classes. You are nodding, about to grab the platter of pie when–

“HOLD UP, BITTY!” It’s the tall blond one. He is coming your way. He is a giant. “WAIT A SECOND!”

The blond kid– Bitty – freezes, looking startled. The giant take two steps and snatches the platter away. You feel your heart stop.

“Bitty, we’ve talked about this,” the giant says.

“Talked about what, Holster,” Bitty says, sounding cross. “I am about to make a huge sale so if you could–”

“Look at this,” the other one– Holster – says. “Armani shorts, boat shoes, inside-out shirt??”

Bitty blinks up at him. 

“LAX BRO!” Holster yells. “RANSOM! LARDO! WE GOT A LAX BRO INFILTRATION!”

“No,” you try even though that is a very bad lie. “No, I’m–”

“LIFT UP YOUR SHIRT!” The one with nice cheekbones yells, crossing his arms. He is also a giant. 

“Now,” the girl says. Unlike the others, she is deadly quiet. 

You don’t see any other options. Using the hand that isn’t full of cash, you lift your shirt. The SAMWELL LACROSSE is visible, even if it is upside-down. 

“CHAD!” Holster yells. “I KNOW THIS WAS YOU, FUCKER!”

“FUCK YOU!!!” That’s Chad S. For sure.

“WE DON’T WANT YOUR ASSHOLE MONEY!” Ransom yells. 

“Here you go,” Bitty says, handing you a piece of pie. “You can have one piece.”

“For yourself,” Lardo says. 

“And you eat it here,” Holster says.

“And it costs eighty dollars,” Ransom says.

“BABY CHAD, DON’T YOU DARE–” Chad S yells.

Bitty holds up a piece of pie and a fork. 

You hand over the 80 dollars. 

Fuck it, Chad S deserves it. 

And, damn, that pie looks delicious.

Second anon message: could you write something to do with baby chad?

 

All freshmen year, you try to change your name. No 18 year old boy wants to be known as “Baby Chad” during your years of college. Particularly when you never seem to be far from a teammate and you are constantly introduced to girls as Baby Chad. 

You try everything. You tell them that “Chad R2″ has a nice ring to it. Or that your middle name is Travis and you wouldn’t mind going by that. Or, fuck, you’d be cool with just “Freshie” for the first year. Chad R is graduating next year. You could put up with it for a year. 

It doesn’t work. You are Baby Chad. And, honestly, the more you protest, the more Chad S seems to delight in calling you Baby Chad. 

Sophomore Year, you remain Baby Chad. Even though the original Chad R left. Chad S and P and T are still there and you think that if you don’t say anything, maybe it will fade out (protesting hadn’t done a whole lot of good last year) but it doesn’t. Even the fucking freshmen call you Baby Chad. 

You roll your eyes but accept it. It’s not that bad a name. And, if you’re being honest, you’ve gotten used to it. You don’t even really think about it anymore. Junior year, you don’t even think about trying to get it changed.

Now, it’s senior year. Or, it’s almost senior year. Actually it’s before the semester actually starts– only the sports teams are here to start practice early and therefore, the cafeteria is pretty empty.

It’s why you can see him, even though, as has become tradition, the lax team and the hockey team sit at opposite ends of the cafeteria. With the football team to act as a buffer in the middle. 

Whisk had been your first friend at Samwell. You’d lived in the same dorm and you’d offered to help carry his boxes in since there was nothing better to do and you didn’t know yet that he was on the hockey team and you were supposed to hate each other. He was quiet and shy and only had four boxes, none of which contained any food, so it was natural to offer him a bag of chips when you finished and–

He was cool. Calmer than the guys on your team. Smart and sharp with a sense of humor that when unleashed was a force to be reckoned with. 

The beginning of your freshmen year was coordinating to take the same classes so he could help you through them and laughing over television shows and youtube videos and complaining (mostly) good-naturedly about your respective teams and sharing your food and care packages from home because Whisk never seemed to get any and had just helped you actually pass your math class. 

Even after you two learned you were supposed to hate each other, you didn’t. Whisk kept coming around to hang out and the other lax bros accepted him in a mostly-dismissive way that said as long as he didn’t rock the boat or try to defend his teammates, he was chill. 

In the beginning, that’s what it had been.

But, it couldn’t last. 

Maybe a part of you had always known that. It didn’t stop you from trying. 

Midway through freshmen year, Whisk had grown tighter with Tango, another kid on the hockey team, who honestly, you found sort of annoying with his constant questions. You’d put up with him for Whisk’s sake but the other lax members hadn’t been so kind and then in February, the hockey team went on a winning streak but got snowed in at a hotel in Buffalo and you don’t know what happened there but–

“Shut the fuck up,” Whisk snapped, eyes flashing at Chad S. “You’re such a fucking dick.”

The lacrosse team stills. You hadn’t even heard what Chad S had said but you are all sitting in study hall, staring over at the hockey team and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it was probably about them. 

“What did you just say?” Chad S. says, standing, because he has the temper of a toddler. Chad P and Ryan are already standing up to stop him.

“You heard me,” Whisk snarls, standing as well, and Whisk is your friend. You stand up to stop him. “Stop being a piece of shit for once in your life.”

Chad S moves then but Chad P and Ryan grab him and Whisk just rolls his eyes, grabs his books and whirls to leave.

“Dude,” you say, following him out. Luckily, the university mandated “study halls” for athletes are so loud that no one even noticed this. “Chill out. You know Chad S is a fucking prick.”

Whisk seems to calm down for a second. At least, he stops moving. “Yeah,” the muscle in his jaw flickers as he takes a breath. “Yeah, you’re right, I guess.”

You turn your smile on a bit wider. “Everyone knows it. He didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just… well, c’mon, the hockey team is a bit lame, even you’ve said–”

“They are nice,” Whisk’s voice cuts through yours like a whip. “Not lame. Just honestly… good people. Who care about things. And each other.”

 “Hey,” you start. The lax team cares about each other. Sure, it’s mostly in the form of rough banter and crude jokes, but everyone takes turns ordering pizza and the older kids will let you borrow their car and Ryan didn’t even seem too upset when Mark scratched his bumper. “We care–”

“And you’re as dumb as they are if you don’t realize part of the reason the whole lax team hates them is because there are a lot of gay kids on the team.”

“That’s not fair,” you say. It’s not. That’s not why you make fun of them. They are just… they are annoying. They once played Taylor Swift’s Bad Blood for three hours in a row.

“Oh really?” Whisk is smarter than you. At this moment, you realize that he knows it. “Look at the words you guys use. Especially about Bitty.”

“No one’s ever called him a–”

“Not directly. But they have and you know it.”

You think you realize in this moment that your friendship won’t work. And for some reason that makes you unreasonably angry. So even though you should back down, even though you should say sorry, even though you should promise to be better, what comes out:

“Well, fuck you. Up til like a day ago, you didn’t like him either.”

It’s the truth. Whisk didn’t talk much on a good day, but you knew he was freaked out by how much Bitty texted him. Asked after him. Brought him his stupid pies. 

Whisk must know it on some level. He flinches and his shoulders come up and-

“Well, I was… Now I do.”

“Alright fine,” you say, still angry because Whisk is saying it like it’s final. Like it’s Bitty over you. Like the last semester didn’t matter to him at all. “Well, go hang out with him then. Whatever.”

It doesn’t end then. Not immediately. You get your head out of your ass enough to text him again the next day– not an apology. You’re both teenage boys, that wouldn’t do, but you text him to hang out and he comes and you watch tv and it’s almost like nothing ever happened except it did.

Whisk makes it clear that he is no longer willing to sit back and let the lax team talk shit on the hockey team. The lax bros make it clear that that was not the arrangement. You try to have him over when it’s just the two of you but he brings Tango more and more and then you turn up in his room to find it filled with other hockey players – Chowder, Dex, and Nursey according to the introductions and they are nice to you, you can’t say they’re not but they are… 

Your seasons get too busy. That’s what you tell yourself. His team goes all the way and you guys pay to get in a few west coast tournaments, even if they are unofficial, they are good practice, and you stay at nice hotels and the boys get you a fake ID so you can all party in Vegas.

Summer comes and you go to Martha’s Vineyard with your parents and sisters and you invite Whisk to come up but he can’t hang out because he has a summer job at Samwell (he’s staying in the Hockey house and a part of you wants to ask because you don’t think he ever did get any care packages). 

Sophomore year, you try to hang out. But Whisk is living in the Hockey House now (It was really cool of them, actually. I didn’t get dibs originally but they found out that I… I mean, it’s a lot cheaper than student housing) and he seems busy and happy and you get named a starter and it’s easy to simply fade away. 

Maybe you always were too different.

It’s funny, though. How well you remember the beginning of freshmen year. You sit and no one is paying you any attention in favor of complaining about the cafeteria food so you look over. And, it’s been over three years, really, but you know that Whisk is actually thoroughly enjoying himself by the way the right side of his mouth is twisted up on the side. Tango is sitting next to him, and he’s been named Captain of his team , same as you. 

For a moment, you have the crazy thought to text him congratulations. You still have his number. You wonder what he would do. If he would get the text and look up and throw you a nod. Or if he would even notice.

He probably wouldn’t. He’s openly laughing now. It’s a short thing, but Tango beams at him and another kid from the hockey team is now laughing so hard that he knocks his soda over on the table and the team is yelling at him but not seriously and–

“Yo, Chad,” You actually ignore the voice at first, because your eyes are still pointed towards the Hockey team and because “Chad” now generally refers to “Chad L” whose father had donated his old BMW for the team to use. But then Colin goes so far to poke you in the side. “Chad.”

You turn. Blinking. “What’s up?”

“You still wanna be Baby Chad this year?” Colin asks and it’s such an unexpected question that all you can do is stare at him. 

“What?”  You sound stupid. If Chad S were still here, he’d playfully slap you. Hard.

“I mean, I know it’s an old freshmen nickname,” Colin says, through a mouthful of food. “And, well, you are the captain now, so…”

They would fall in line, is what he’s saying. If you declared that any idiot who called you Baby Chad would get his ass kicked. The new freshmen would have no idea that that’s who you ever were. Now’s your chance. To get rid of it completely. To become just a regular Chad. 

“No,” you hear yourself say. “No, that’s cool.” 

Freshmen year was actually a pretty good year.

“Baby Chad’s fine.”

Chapter Text

• Jack has drunk-called the entire Samwell Men’s Hockey team to “come hang out” at 3 o’clock in the morning and Bitty only finds out because he thought Jack was throwing up in the bathroom but he had taken so long that - “Shitty do not start driving. You are in law school and it is a Wednesday!”
• Random and Holster show up at 7am the next morning “ready to PARTY!” Jack is hungover and Bitty is exhausted but he makes them pancakes and they stay for four days. Jack gets them all VIP tickets to his Saturday game.
• Jack drunk online shops if left alone with his computer. He buys many, many things, including (but not limited to): Another copy of The War (in case he loses his own); a Zimmermann jersey from the Fan Store (do you think they would notice, Bitty, if I wore a fan one?? and then he discovers custom-made so he buys one with his number but has the name BITTLE and “IM GONNA WEAR IT BITTY!!! IM GONNA!!”); many different kind of hand soaps (we’ll use ‘em eventually Bittle. And look at this cucumber one!); and then hundreds of dollars of baking supplies from william and sonoma and figure skates and, really, if he manages to remember anything that Bitty has mentioned, even in passing, he’s buying it.
• One time Jack drunk-discovers Etsy and it is madness. Drunk-him is sneaky enough to know that Bitty would be mad so he deletes all the different receipts and Etsy is all handmade stuff so basically random shit comes to their house for weeks afterwards. Including an embroidery pattern that someone designed based on Jack’s drunk ramble about Bitty and Bitty goes to throw it away but- “I’m going to do it Bittle.” so then Jack has to learn embroidery and please imagine 6′1″ buff, nhl hockey player Jack Zimmermann watching history documentaries and cross-stitching. (of course then he finds it really relaxing so he brings it on the road and now please imagine an entire nhl hockey team getting really fucking into cross-stitching. ESPN does a segment.)
• He also drunk donates to things. Like if you don’t think Jack Zimmermann has been awake late at night (drinking water cause Bitty is making him even though he is fine) when those “Adopt an Elephant” commercials come on and calls and adopts like 5, then why are you reading this post? (He gives the packets that come to all his Samwell crew. When it happens again with whales, he gives them out to his Falconers team. The hope is that neither side ever discusses this but then Bitty throws a Christmas party, people start talking and- “ZIMMS, HOW MANY FUCKING ANIMALS HAVE YOU ADOPTED?!?”) 
• If Bitty falls asleep earlier than he does, Drunk Jack calls Shitty 99% of the time. It’s not quite as good as when Shitty crawled into Jack’s bed in the middle of the night high (and sometimes naked) but it’s close.
• This is already a post and I apologize that a 15 minute search through my likes failed to find it so I could link but: Drunk History with Jack Zimmermann. If Shitty is in town, it 100% happens. Bitty hasn’t let Shitty film it yet but one day… (seriously hit me up with that link so i can add it, this is stressing me out so much)
• Usually, though, Drunk Jack Zimmermann only does these things if Bitty falls asleep or leaves him alone to try to make late-night pancakes. Because if Bitty is around, Drunk Jack Zimmermann clings to him like an octopus and giggles to himself as he tries to make Bitty laugh and grins when Bitty does end up laughing and just- Drunk, Carefree Jack Zimmermann, folks. That is all.

Chapter Text

Writing prompt! A fight over girl scout cookies.