#WHERE IS MY JACK ZIMMERMANN I WANT ONE SO BAD

[doggernaut]

INJURY FIC INJURY FIC

Oh hello, you've found the fic most likely to be published sometime soon, if only because when I was looking at it I realized it's really just a short little Jack character study and only needs a little bit of work to make it publishable.

I have posted about this more on my main Tumblr account, but I'm a runner and in the past year and a half have been struggling with what seems like endless post-Covid lung issues and injuries. I went from running a PR marathon in April of 2022 to barely being able to run three miles at a pace five minutes slower than my PR pace. For somebody who has never really had to contend with injuries over almost 30 years of running (I took several months off when I strained my calf in 2016, but got into barre classes during that time), it has been humbling. And frustrating. I spend like an hour a day doing my stupid PT exercises and it feels like I've accomplished nothing. And I figured I could take all my feelings about being an aging athlete and give them to Jack. Because you know who would be pissed off about being forced to slow down due to a minor injury? Jack Zimmermann.

(Projecting all of my feelings onto Jack, by the way, has not really helped. But maybe other readers will see themselves in this fic and feel not-so-alone?)

“Can you explain it to me?” Bitty asks. “Euh … I’ll try.” Jack isn’t sure if he can explain what he’s feeling to Bitty because he’s not sure he understands it himself.  Bitty gives Jack’s shoulder a little squeeze, a nonverbal cue that he’s ready to listen whenever Jack’s ready. It takes Jack a minute to gather his thoughts. “I know I need to rest,” Jack begins. “I know I need to slow down and let things run their course, and I know it’s good for my body. Healing. But my mind just …” Bitty presses a kiss to the back of Jack’s neck. “I know.” “Sometimes my thoughts get a little out of control,” Jack admits. “Not in a bad way. Not like before. But I’ve been wondering if this is it. Maybe this time I won’t heal. Or I’ll fall so far out of shape that I’ll never get back to where I was. And I’ll just keep falling behind until they tell me I’m done. I’m not as young as I used to be. There are new guys who are faster, hungrier. Whenever I face off against some young kid I think about how I was at eighteen, how I thought guys my age had one foot out the door.” “Well, first of all,” Bitty murmurs soothingly, “nobody is gonna tell the Jack Zimmermann that he’s done.” Jack manages a smile in spite of himself. “I know it’s not rational.” Bitty presses another kiss, feather-light, to the back of Jack’s neck. “Honey, I know how you feel about slowing down, but maybe you should try to change the narrative,” he says gently. “What do you mean?” “Well, instead of telling yourself you’re lazy, try thinking of it as recovering. Right now the best thing you can do for yourself is rest a little so you can start the new season healthy and strong. When’s the last time you gave yourself permission to slow down?

Permission? That’s a new concept. Jack can’t recall ever giving himself permission to slow down. His overdose forced him to slow down, but that wasn’t a choice. This doesn’t feel like a choice either, but Bitty is right. Jack’s been in therapy long enough to know that there’s a difference between then and now, that slowing down now is something he has to do if he wants to keep moving forward.  “Just remember,” Bitty adds, “every rest day, every easy PT session, is an investment in a stronger, more resilient you. And it’s all gonna pay off big time next season.” “You’re good at this. You sure you don’t want to get into coaching?” “Oh, it’s hardly me at all! I’ve just been spending a lot of time on the inspirational, body positive side of Instagram.” “You have?” Seven years together, and Bitty’s still surprising Jack. Bitty shrugs. “I know it was a million years ago, but I used to be an athlete, too. Long enough ago that my body definitely isn’t the same.” There’s a hint of resignation in Bitty’s tone. “I know that’s not a bad thing, but it’s still hard to accept sometimes. Especially living with you, looking like you do.”  “Bits, you’ve never said anything,” Jack says, feeling a little guilty for not picking up on the fact that Bitty’s been going through this too. “And I wasn’t gonna,” Bitty says, “because most days I don’t think about it. My life is a lot different now, and that’s a good thing! But I can’t lift as much as I used to at the gym, and you know I can’t always keep up with you on our morning runs. And it’s my choice, I know. I’m happy with my yoga class and running most mornings and doing the Turkey Trot once a year, but sometimes it’s still—” Bitty shrugs. “Honey, you’re a professional athlete. It’s hard not to compare myself to you. Or who I was just a few years ago, for that matter. So I follow a few accounts that help keep things in perspective. There’s this whole community of former athletes, and people who are recovering from illness or injury, and people who are just starting on their fitness journey, and they remind me I’m not alone. Your pace isn’t my pace, and that’s okay.”   Jack laughs in spite of himself. “Okay, now you sound like an influencer.” “And you honey—” Bitty places a gentle hand on Jack’s chest—“your pace today doesn’t have to be your pace yesterday, or last year. We’re all works in progress.”

#wip ask game #sweatersinthesummer

[homobiwan]

I FUCKING LOVE JACK ZIMMERMANN IN HIS LONG BROWN COAT BENDING DOWN TO KISS BITTY IN FRONT OF REPORTERS AND GOD

#HES SO PRETTY #WHERE IS MY JACK ZIMMERMANN I WANT ONE SO BAD #omgcp

[somethingnurseywoulddo]

you know what? fuck it, omgcp track & field au:

lets start with our beloved main character: bitty. now, it’s canon he’s got hops on hops on hops, so i’m going to naturally dub him a jumper. he doesn’t high jump though. that’s because while he can jump high, he doesn’t apply it very well to that event. he’s great at long jump, it’s got speed and vertical jump, without being as finicky as high jump.

additionally, bitty is fast. not just a one and done kinda guy, but he’s got endurance. if you don’t think he’s on the 4x4 you need to rethink some things. he can do a 200, and enjoys them, but if he triple jumps at a meet he won’t do the 200.

and you may be wondering “yo op, why not have him pole vault?” because i said so. i just don’t think he would want to. (however i do understand the zimbits perspective of All American pole vaulter jack zimmermann taking on newbie potential eric bittle and a relationship grows from there)

next up is captain of all captains, jack zimmermann. as much as i want this GOD of a man to pole vault, his body type is simply not cut out for it. even in the multi-event where you don’t have to be as good, he simply cannot fling that much weight over a pole 15 feet in the air

i think he’s a 800, 400, and ofc 4x4 runner. incase you’re wondering, he hands off to bitty ;)

his favorite event is the 800, and although he’s equally good at the 400, he’s more technically sound in the 400. these two events are so challenging and take a lot of skill and drive, which he’s definitely got the heart for.

i think he used to do every event under the sun in high school (main in 400) but really grew into a solid mid distance runner that the team can rely of for big points.

now for ransom, i’m very torn. i almost want to make him and holster multis but i’m leaning toward ransom long jumping and/or hurdles??? i’m feeling 100 hurdles, long jump, 4x4????? he’s fast, really aware of his body and i think that bodes well for these events. especially because, believe it or not, long jump and hurdles have very similar mechanics

he jokes about doing distance all the time though and holster is quick to add “you did one cross country season freshman year of highschool you are not a distance runner”

his favorite event is 100 hurdles hands down.

holster.. my boy… you want to be a jumper so bad don’t you? too bad. you’re a 400 runner through and through and guess who your biggest rival is?! it’s jack! yay.

i think he runs open 400 and 4x4 (making the starting team jack, bitty, ransom, and holster (not necessarily in that order))

i don’t see him running anything much faster or much longer but sometimes some people can only do the event in that one distance, not the entire event group as a whole. it pisses holster off that he can’t run more than 400 well.

also oh my god??? his foot contact is so strong and heavy you hear him coming up from behind you and think you’re gonna die. you shit your pants.

this post is getting kinda long but i do have room for The shitty knight. we can all agree he’s a mile runner. this bitch is crazy as fuck and he’s got the build for some short distance stuff. the mile and 800 are his best.

don’t be surprised if you see him somehow also pole vaulting. i don’t care how rare it is for distance to jump as well. “look how cool my flow is when i fall down bros” and that’s his argument.

in omgcp canon shitty is not the best player and not the worst, he’s fairly average and can hold his ground and throw in some cool tricks. he’s a solid foundation. i think here, while he’s still a solid foundation, he really finds himself a stand out runner, especially in the mile. there’s something very vibrant about his running.

also the team has socks for days

#okay thags it for now #but if you want the managers and frogs and wtf i can def give it to you #if you also want some world building around this i’ll be more than happy to share #the 4x4 order probs go jack ransom holster bitty #that’s where their skills would be i think #anyway #omgcp #check please #check please! #omgcheckplease #omgcp t&f au #omgcp fic

[asterlark]

ok. samwell college of music au. i wrote all four years let's go babey

eric bittle is this lovely southern tenor (sounds kinda like mitch grassi or ben j pierce) who posts covers (& sometimes originals, but always with neutral or no pronouns because he can't post anything that says he or him ☹) on his youtube channel and has major stage fright but is very talented; he also plays ukulele

he got into samwell college of music on a voice scholarship and his dad doesn’t exactly approve but eric was never the 6′2″ masculine football player he wanted anyway so why not go for his dreams

he auditions for the very competitive samwell men’s contemporary chorus (there’s like 20 choirs; chamber choir, jazz choir, a cappella groups (lax bros do a cappella), combined choirs, etc- smcc does contemporary pop/rock music) and while he’s very very nervous and shaky as he auditions, directors hall & murray see a lot of potential in him (with major grumbling from student director jack)

(the rest of this ridiculously long au under the cut)

the group is small, for a chorus, because the point of the group is not a wall of sound but a focus on all of the very talented guys’ voices coming together in these gorgeous harmonies and basically they’re like one of the best choruses on campus and all the male singers want in

so there’s jack zimmermann, who of course eric knows because everyone knows who he is, he’s the son of bob and alicia zimmermann, both incredibly talented and famous musicians, and basically those genes were in his favor because he’s mega fucking talented

(jack was supposed to sign a recording contract to be in a band with his best friend kent parson when he was 17 but something happened between them and the pressure was too much and jack overdosed on something- there’s so many rumors no one knows what’s real- and kent signed solo in LA & went on to win grammys for his albums about a mysterious ex and jack disappeared for a few years to be a counselor at a music camp and reappears at samwell, knocking everyone’s socks off again like he’d never left, except with a renewed vigor and intenseness that freaks everyone out)

jack is a contemporary writing & production major, freaky talented and sings like a modern day frank sinatra, and he plays like 20 instruments and can read music like breathing air and writes songs like if he stopped he’d die; his music is folksy and mournful and he plays all the instruments on his tracks himself- guitar, piano, strings, drums- it sounds like a full band but nope. just jack. he’s intense

“we all get nicknames in this choir,” justin informs eric on his first day, “we’re those kinda guys.” so he’s bitty, which he finds vaguely offensive (bc he’s not that short!) but still cute, & the rest of the group is introduced to him:

“shitty” knight (voice like colyer) is a musical education major and an enigma of a singer with this awesome, earthy, raspy voice that’s really interesting to listen to and a very.... unique style & look; he writes cheesy but shockingly good raps about social justice topics and he will sing-lecture you if you’ve said something offensive (he also plays banjo)

justin “ransom” oluransi is a music business & management major with an angelic voice you can’t help but listen to; he’s sultry and has an incredible range and does runs like nobody’s business (with a voice like daniel caesar or leslie odom jr UGH)

adam “holster” birkholtz is a voice performance major, wants to be on broadway and it’s all he ever goddamn talks about basically, he’s a belter and has a lot of charisma and starpower and he’ll charm the pants off of you within one note; can also play piano and irritates everyone constantly because his regular volume is like a level 11 (voice like the frontman of my brothers and i combined w/ x ambassadors lead singer)

larissa “lardo” duan is at the local art institute because performing arts is not her jam and she’d much rather paint; she’s a barista at annie’s and supervises open mic nights and keeps the annoying choir dudes from driving away all her patrons

“i’m not even in your dumbass choir,” she says when the group gave her her nickname. holster just told her that she was an honorary member and then started sing-shouting a song at her about how good she is

bitty’s first year is hard because he’s talented and he works hard but he shies away when anyone asks him to sing outside the group and like, he can sing to a camera by himself but being on a stage with everyone looking at you and the sole responsibility of the song on your shoulders is terrifying and no thanks

jack does not. understand this. he’s been performing practically since he came out of the womb and he doesn’t really get performance nerves (what he gets is anxiety about how he did after he gets off stage that follows him home and makes it so he can’t sleep) - so he bothers bitty about it constantly like “you just need practice, you just have to sing by yourself a lot and then you’ll get over it” which like.... that’s true but it’s also hella scary and bitty’s like “no thanks!!!!”

but jack’s annoying and intense so he makes bitty do open mic with him every saturday night and it’s going okay and bitty loves his choir and loves his school and these new friends he’s making and he finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them during his second term

then during their spring choral showcase at the end of his freshman year bitty has a solo and he’s worked really hard on it and he’s feeling good- okay he’s completely freaked out but he’s trying to feel good- but when he gets up on stage there’s so many people and the stage lights are so hot on his face and he flips out a little and maybe he passes out from anxiety and stress right on stage and it’s terrible and he’s so embarrassed and ashamed that he ruined their set at the showcase

of course jack blames himself because “we shouldn’t have given you a solo before you were ready, i misjudged it, i’m sorry” - and they all feel kinda bad bc holy fuck they didn’t know his stage fright was that bad like they didn’t know someone could pass out just by being anxious to sing

he practices all the time over the summer and goes to his local open mic at jack’s insistence and it actually helps a lot because instead of a sea of strangers judging him it’s a bunch of people he knows and they’re all smiling at him and when he finishes his song they cheer for him and it boosts his self-confidence a lot

his sophomore year they have three new members- chris ”chowder” chow (voice like ieuan), an excitable music education major with impressive rapping skills, derek "nursey" nurse (frank ocean or leon bridges type), a songwriting major who can also play violin and guitar, and will ”dex” poindexter (like tom west), a production & engineering major who tried out with chowder bc he needed moral support and didn't expect to get in but impressed the directors with his voice

the year’s going pretty good, bitty’s still pretty scared of singing alone but more confident now and the open mic nights with jack haven’t stopped, so he’s getting better. and one night they’re hanging out at annie’s after closing waiting for lardo to be done so they can walk her home, and bitty suggests that jack sing with him one of these nights, and jack says he doesn’t know any of bitty’s songs and bitty says they can write one together half jokingly but then jack is like “yes.” with that Intense Look

SO they get together a couple days later in jack’s room at the house they all live in together (bitty moved in at the beginning of the year after previous smcc member john johnson called him- how’d he get his number?- and told him he could take his room if he wanted), jack with his guitar and bitty with his ukulele, and it’s a little awkward until bitty says jack should play him one of his songs

and, okay, he doesn’t really know what to expect because the only music jack ever released to the public was that one single he did with kent parson when they were 17 so bitty doesn’t even know if he has anything to play him, but he does- he starts playing these soft, sad notes on the guitar and opens his mouth and sings about being lonely and scared and unsure, about false starts and shaky ground and not knowing where you stand with someone, about expectations and lying awake at night and wishing so hard you were someone else, and bitty watches him sing and just kind of... realizes he’s head over heels for this boy and internally Freaks Out a little

he tries to put that aside and they start to write this song, at first it’s weird because jack’s like “all your songs are love songs i can’t really relate to happy love songs” and bitty’s like “listen... i’ve never even had a boyfriend i just write a bunch of sappy love stuff because it’s not about me it’s about whoever’s listening to it, they’re gonna project their own experiences on my music anyway so it doesn’t matter if it’s my real life or not” and jack’s like “alright while fake af that’s smart and i respect you” (what bitty doesn't say is that he writes about what he really wants which is to fall in love & be in a happy relationship)

they say they’re just gonna write this kinda vague sad song but they both secretly write lines about their actual lives so it ends up being really personal and real and raw for the both of them

they sing the song at open mic that saturday and the crowd at annie’s is never that big but they’ve never got a standing ovation here before, and some girl shouts “MAKE AN ALBUM” (it may or may not be lardo) and they both blush furiously and bitty’s like “... that was really nice, jack” and jack’s like “... yeah it was good good job you’re really getting some confidence out there nice work” (bitty: “THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AAAAH”)

around this time jack’s really thinking about what he’s gonna do when he’s done at samwell, talking with his parents and his agent and looking into different record companies and deciding if he wants to sign with anyone or possibly start his own company- the head of a small company called falcon records in rhode island has been talking to him a lot, and jack talks to bitty about how he thinks it’d be nice to start small, and the record exec georgia and the producer marty had both been really nice and welcoming, and bitty’s so happy for him but also just... sad that he won’t be around jack every day after he graduates

THEN at a haus party celebrating their win of a local choral competition, who shows up but none other than pop star kent parson to Ruin The Fun

bitty sees the way jack pales when kent walks in, notices them disappear upstairs together and feels a little sick worrying about jack but chalks it up to the highly alcoholic concoction shitty and lardo had cooked up but nonetheless decides he’s sick of the party and goes up to his room and hears.... a little too much

and YIKES he’s standing right there and kent parson, pop star, two-time grammy winner, is looking a little rumpled and staring right at him and he puts his hat on and clears his throat and snaps at jack- “hey. well. call me if you reconsider. but good luck with rhode island. ...i’m sure that’ll make your parents proud.” and jack’s shaking, and bitty doesn’t know what to do but jack goes back into his room and bitty’s just kind of standing there like What The Fuck

so.... he kind of stews over winter break but tries not to think about it too much and he and jack text a bit and jack tells him to practice and bitty’s like “oh, you” and jack’s like “im serious” and bitty’s like “>:( it’s christmas”

spring semester starts and they're doing well in competitions and they go to semifinals and then finals for a prestigious collegiate choir competition and the pressure is mounting but they all are so optimistic and really feel like they're on the same page and bitty’s confidence is better than ever and then.... they don't win

jack especially takes it very hard, but then he also has signing to worry about, which everyone helps him with and he decides to sign with falcon records and start work on an album after graduation

speaking of graduation, shitty and jack graduate and it's hard for them but harder for bitty who feels like he's losing jack in a way, he knows how intense jack gets when he's making music and it doesn't feel like he'll have any time for bitty anymore so when they say goodbye bitty goes back to the haus and listens to his and jack's song and just cries

but, like in canon, dadbob has words of wisdom to impart and jack has an "oh" moment and races across campus to kiss bitty

they get together and the next few months are spent with jack working nonstop on his album (which tbh, he'd had many of the songs written already so it's mostly recording and producing) and texting bitty constantly and coming to visit him and playing him demos of all the songs

jack also asks bitty if they can record the song they wrote together & have it as a bonus track on his album & bitty says of course, so when jack visits they set up an impromptu studio and record vocals in the guest bedroom and this deeply personal song they wrote before they were ever together means so much more to them now

and bitty is so happy but so scared and sad too because jack is playing him these songs telling him "they're all for you bits, & a lot of them are about you" and he just doesn't know how he's going to keep all this love inside even though it feels like jack's career is at stake

he tries to shove it down and stay strong though, especially since he's now an upperclassman and they're taking on new members- connor "whiskey" whisk (voice like finneas or the male singer in valley), a music business/ management major who seems to hate bitty's guts and tony "tango" tangredi (like chaz cardigan), a jazz composition major who astounds everybody with his endless questions but also his ridiculously impressive composition skills & naturally perfect pitch (he can also play saxophone??)

i want ford in this au so fuck it she is a composition major with dreams to write scores for musicals and she stars training as a barista at annie's (aka training to corral the smcc)

the pressure of it all proves to be a lot and bitty and jack have their hi, honey moment where bitty's like i can't be this deep in the closet!!! and so they tell the smcc and also jack's label that they're together and that eases things a bit

jack's album comes out to much critical acclaim and shouting in the groupchat ("#1 ON ITUNES BRAHHHHH!!!!!!!!") and several months later, when smcc has already been eliminated from choral competition in an earlier round, jack is nominated for SEVERAL grammys including best album, song of the year, and best new artist

when the time comes he takes his parents and bitty on the red carpet which, everyone keeps being like "who are you here with jack?" and he's like "my family and my good friend :)" and yes it is awkward

jack wins... all three awards. it's the comeback everyone is stoked to see and when his third win is announced, he and bitty are so elated that they kiss before he goes to accept the award

his speech is basically just "um... wow. thank you. i just kissed my boyfriend on live tv. this is amazing and i'm so humbled. i'd like to thank my boyfriend and georgia and marty and my parents and my friends and my boyfriend"

obviously the press has a FIELD DAY with this but bitty & jack are honestly vibing and so happy that it doesn't matter untiiiillll bitty's mom calls and he has to tell her "mama i'm gay and i'm going on tour with jack this summer okloveyoubye"

the last few months of bitty's junior year pass quickly and he's voted student director which is a huge honor considering how much he struggled with stage fright and confidence & how he'll now be stepping into ransom & holster's shoes

r&h and lardo all graduate (the smcc basically crashes the art school graduation and all scream when lardo gets her diploma lmao), which is a bittersweet occasion and they all do a bit of tearing up

that summer bitty goes on tour across the u.s. & canada with jack and his touring band (snowy is a bassist, tater is a drummer and poots does backing guitar, he also brings nursey to play violin on a few songs) as well as georgia who's there to manage logistics

and tour is so fun & chaotic with many bi and rainbow flags in the audience that end up thrown on stage and draped around jack's neck and they spend so many nights in the bus drinking and laughing and fooling around on the guitars and bitty's uke and exploring new cities bitty has never been to before and it's the freest bitty has felt in a long time

summer ends though, and jack leaves for the uk/europe leg of the tour, and with the new school year brings a few new members- river "bully" bullard (voice like gregory alan isakov), a music therapy major who draws his own cover art for his songs, lukas "louis" landmann (like jr jr), an electronic production and design major with a penchant for EDM, and johnathan "hops" hopper (like keiynan lonsdale), a film scoring major who wants to write music for movies and video games

bitty meets and befriends some of the other student directors- shruti, sd of the women’s contemporary chorus; sharon, sd of the chamber choir; and edgar, sd of jazz ensemble (even chad l., sd of the all-male a cappella group)

senior year passes similarly to the comic; coach visits and sees one of bitty’s competitions, jack comes to madison for christmas, smcc does well in competition and goes to regionals etc

however… bitty keeps putting off and putting off gathering the songs for his senior recital

he has a hard time doing that because he’s so focused on the group and making sure they’re performing well and as they advance in competition, everything else starts to fall away

eventually the rest of the smcc has to lock away his uke and change his youtube password and FORCE him to choose songs for it and start preparing because he cannot graduate without doing this recital and doing well on it

he chooses (of course) a beyonce song, a few of his own songs, an ellie goulding song, and an adele song

with all that his breath hitches and his hands shake before he goes on stage, he does really well and his voice instructor prof atley tears up a little in the audience as does his mom

meanwhile smcc goes to semifinals, then finals, of the national collegiate choral competition they participate in

and i imagine bitty faces somewhat less homophobia in this au because i mean, he’s in the performing arts, but i think it’s still there and he also faces a good amount of classism from richer students and performers who think they’re better because they had the resources and money to be performing professionally from a very young age, and he has been practicing via filming himself on a shitty camcorder and posting it to youtube

but they still get there! and the national finals are fucking HUGE and a big deal and a little overwhelming

bitty’s stage fright is Present because this is the biggest stage and the biggest stakes he's ever had and he has a big solo in one of their songs so if he fucks up, he fucks up a national championship for his whole group and school

luckily though, when he steps on the stage with his best friends and sees his boyfriend and family and smcc alums in the audience and they perform their first song, a high-energy pop medley that always gets the crowd going, everything seems to melt away and it's just him living in this moment and singing his heart out

when it gets to the next song and his solo, he forgets to be nervous and belts it out, getting screams of approval from the audience when he finishes

(dex and nursey do have a duet together that they had to practice for many long nights in the practice rooms alone but that's neither here nor there)

their time on stage seems to last both hours and no time at all and then they're done, the crowd gives them a standing ovation and it's at least 30% r&h & shitty's hooting and hollering and jack's enthusiastic clapping that makes bitty & the others beam with pride

then it's just waiting, giddy and nervous beyond belief in their green room, for the judging to be over

after what feels like forever they're back on stage, arms linked together waiting and hoping for their name to be called and it is, they win and it feels like years have built up to this moment, and bitty tears up because years ago when he was fainting from anxiety at having to perform in front of people he never could've imagined that he'd do this, that he'd be the student director that led them to a championship

they get the trophy and a ridiculous amount of flowers from their loved ones and they all are just in giddy disbelief that this is happening, they're national champs!!! they are the best choir boys in the nation!!

they come home and the rest of the school year passes by so quickly that it's very suddenly graduation and bitty can't believe his college career at samwell is over 😢

(he and ollie and wicky take pictures together, o&w talk about how excited they are to devote full time attention to their band & wedding planning and bitty's just like wait you're gay??)

bitty got plenty of offers from record companies but he likes his freedom of creativity and he has a built in fanbase from doing youtube all these years so he decides to make an album independently (jack helps him produce & master it 🥰)

when bitty's album comes out about a year later, full of bops about being gay and in love and having struggled but come out the other side more confident than ever, it doesn't get any grammy nominations- and he didn't expect or need that.

what it does do is it resonates. it makes the rounds in youtube and queer internet circles; people his age reach out to him saying this is the music they wish they had as a kid and kids reach out to him saying he's a role model and they're so glad to have his music to listen to. his album is written about as an underrated gem that shines with queer brilliance and is sure to start a party when it comes on.

his parents may not fully understand the road he's chosen for himself but they're still so proud and promote the album as hard as any of his loyal fans (especially the one country-inspired song on the album that he wrote and dedicated to them).

and jack, jack who saw this album from its infancy to its release date, who took the film photo that ended up being the album cover, who worked with bitty to make sure his vision was realized exactly how he wanted it to be, is proud beyond words.

jack starts using his semi-abandoned twitter again to tweet "stream [album name]" every day and bitty retweets them sometimes, with just a "this boy. ❤"

and they're happy. they're good. they have come so far and they are reaping the rewards of all the hard work they put in to make the music that they truly love.

the end :)

#check please #omgcp #samwell college of music au #mine #my writing #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #omgcp fic #check please fic #zimbits #uhh idk what else to tag #this fucking thing is like 4.1k words i'm- #i hope you enjoy it (and reblog it!) bc i've been working on this for literal years #i know i'll never actually write it as a longform fic so here's a bullet pt fic instead #pls let me know your thoughts i have so many things to say about this au

[wrathofthestag]

There are so many great OMGCP fics out there that I love to read, and rec, again and again. I decided to group some together, by theme, and share them with you.  I’ll be posting one or two themes a month. Most of the fics are Zimbits-centric.

THEME:  Movie/Show AU

Every Rule I Had by westernredcedar @thewesternredcedar 💖

Summary: He's perfect. But it's not the right time. A When Harry Met Sally AU. One of my all-time favorite movie AUs.

Graduation Day by IBoatedHere

Summary: It takes Jack 50 days to finally see what's been right in front of him for the past two years.

A Groundhog Day AU.

Bitty's Delivery Service by itsybitsybitty @itsybitsybitty

Summary: Eric Bittle never thought he'd ever leave his small town where he was born, raised, and learned the intricacies of the magic within him. Setting off into the stars at midnight, as tradition dictates, he sets off to a new land to carve a place in this world for himself and his magic. Along the way, he meets a band of pilots preparing for war he dreams will never come, and is particularly annoyed and enamored by their leader, Captain Jack Zimmermann.

An affectionate Kiki's Delivery Service AU starring Eric Bittle as Kiki and Jack as a lovestruck pilot.

almost there and nowhere near it by shellybelle @geniusorinsanity

Summary:  Samwell is the kind of town where everyone knows everyone. That’s why everybody knows that Eric “Bitty” Bittle’s bakery is the only place to get a decent pie, why everybody knows that if you want to teach your kid to dance or sing you send them to Adam Birkholtz, and why everybody in town has a bet on when single dad Derek Nurse and diner owner and purveyor of Samwell’s best coffee Will Poindexter are going to finally stop messing around and get together.

(or: the Gilmore Girls au that absolutely no one asked for)

You And No Other/Vous Et Nul Autre by LeftWingLibrarian @leftwinglibrarian

Summary: Bitty's baking up a storm to surprise Jack with a party for Canada Day. But when a family good luck charm falls into the mix, all of Bitty's love, longing and lust for his fiancé get channeled into the food. It makes for an awkward evening for poor Jack, who is having food-induced sensual flashbacks with every bite! And he's not alone ...

aka "Bitty bakes while horny and it makes everyone else horny." A Like Water for Chocolate AU.

The Piemaker and The Boy by orphan_account

Summary:  (AKA the Zimbits Pushing Daisies AU)

Eric did a bad thing. He kept him.

He never meant to. It was just...he wasn’t supposed to do anything like this but then came along this... Canadian with his sad eyes and he was all alone - and so was Eric. And Eric had just brought someone back from the dead and who knows what kind of chaos that information would bring, right? So he told Jack to run and Jack did, just like that, just because he asked.

Here I am, Baby by Angryspaceravenclaw

Summary: You've Got Mail AU

Eric Bittle is devastated when the massive corporate bakery, Zimmermann's, opens around the corner from his small pie and coffee shop.  He vents his frustrations to the anonymous IG user he's been talking to, and falling for, all the while waging war against Jack Zimmermann's corporate take-over.  Little does he know the face behind the anonymous IG account, and little does he know what will happen in the future.

Eric Bittle Got Married by emmagrant01 @emmagrant01

Summary: If you could do it all again, would you change anything? (The time travel fic no one asked for.)

If life is a movie then you're the best part by goldstandard @shipped-goldstandard

Summary: Eric Bittle has one mantra as he relives March 29 over and over again - don’t get hit.

If only things were that easy.

A Groundhog Day AU.

Reblog and show these amazing authors some love.

#OMGCP themed fic recs #OMGCP-themed-fic-recs #zimbits #zimbits fic rec #zimbits au #zimbits movie au

[stufftippywrote]

not an astronaut

This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.

The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn't freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.

He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.

Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…

A prickle of fear runs through him.

The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.

The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.

Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”

~~~

“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”

The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.

“You’re fat,” Davey says.

Eric blinks.

“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.

~~~

Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.

“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.

And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”

“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”

“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”

“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”

He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”

Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”

“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”

Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”

~~~

Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.

“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.

Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.

“What?”

“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.

Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”

Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.

“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.

“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.

Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.

~~~

“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”

“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”

“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”

All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”

Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.

Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.

Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.

“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”

Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.

He points. “I know you, too.”

“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.

“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”

Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”

“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friend part.

Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”

“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”

Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.

~~~

“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.

“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.

Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.

“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”

Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”

“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.

He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.

For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.

~~~

Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”

He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.

When they're isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”

It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”

There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Still.” Davey says.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.

“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.

“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.

Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.

After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”

Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”

“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”

Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.

#i hate writing endings: a novel #check please #omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcp ficlet #zimbits #but more really about bitty himself #stuff tippy wrote

[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

#zimbits #jack / bitty #omgcp #check please #my fic #my stuff #lost zimmermann brother au #bob's got another kid and I named him andrew again! #kent is not a bad guy #only carly is a bad guy and we hate him #long post #because it's a mini fic!

[cello-trash]

Chapter 6 of Parry, Please! is here!

Click here to read the fic! (it’s now over 21K so if you were waiting for a chunk to be posted check it out now!)

Bitty snorted. “Bless your sweet little pea pickin heart,” he said as he shook his head. “You sure are something else, huh?”

Jack blinked in confusion. What the hell did any of that mean? Before he could ask for clarification of why Bitty was blessing him or why Bitty thought he picked peas, Bitty interrupted him.

“If you’re so keen to help, I could use some help making my next set of pies. I heard a new set of recruits are coming in a couple of days and I want to give them a warm welcome.”

Jack did not understand why Bitty kept on trying to get Jack to bake with him, but he had promised he would help Bitty out. “What if we baked something healthier?” Jack tried to ask. “Starting off with sweets might set a bad precedent with them about the diet they need to keep as knights.”

Bitty was already shaking his head in disagreement by the time Jack was a quarter of the way through his sentence. “I’m gonna feed them some treats and you can’t stop me Mr. Zimmermann, so don’t even try.”

This chapter has another wonderful piece of art by @karin848 which is so fucking cute!! Come for lots of fluff and some realization of feelings for Jack!

Summary for the fic below the break

Eric Bittle has only ever kept one secret from his mama: he has magic. Being able to do magic in the small village of Madison has always been something that's looked down on, but now that he's been accepted into knight training at Fort Samwell, he might finally have the chance to be himself and grow into his magical ability. Can he survive the captain of the guard (and disgraced prince) Jack Zimmermann and overcome his fear of physical contact? Will he be able to open up to the other knights about his magic while keeping it a secret from his parents? Will love bloom in unexpected places? Will he end up sexting via carrier pigeon? A medieval Camelot AU where Bitty is a warlock, Lardo's a magical blacksmith, and everyone who's on the team in canon are knights.

Also featuring trans Bitty, Jack, Kent, and Lardo and background patater, shardo, and polyfrogs

Start the fic from the beginning here

#omgcpbigbang2021 #omgcp fanfic #omgcp #jack zimmermann #eric bittle #my writing

[parvuls]

March Recs Roundup

i’ve been reading fic nonstop in the weeks leading up to march, and i really felt like reccing some underappreciated gems and sharing wips i’m impatient for!

RECS

Dark Memes and Manitoba Dreams by SunshineAndaLittleFlour, twistedmiracle (@sunshineandalittleflour @onetwistedmiracle) [rating: t | words: 12k | posted: march 2021] in short: set during early Y3; jack gets it into his head that he’s not good at romance, and that it could sabotage his relationship with bitty. he applies himself to becoming better at it in a very jack zimmermann way. i felt like jack was incredibly in character in this fic, from the way anxiety influences his thoughts to the gameplan he puts together. the genuine mutual care and deep understanding between jack and bitty shone through in this fic, and was amazingly effective at showing what true romance looks like. i was so into this fic that i was feeling jack’s anxiety alongside him. .

At First Like Separate Islands by HugeAlienPie (@hugealienpie) [rating: t | words: 14k | posted: december 2020] in short: a soulmates au remix of Y1 and Y2. when bitty gets to samwell everything hints at jack being his soulmate, but jack displays no signs of this being the case. bitty searches for alternate explanations while their relationship develops over time. i really, really enjoyed this writer’s style. the events unfold in this universe that exists linearly to canon, so some things happen the same and some things change drastically. i absolutely adored how jack’s mindset was constructed in this fic, and - most importantly - i loved how the idea of soulmates was treated. soulmates cannot be a solution to human nature: just another fact that both contributes and complicates matters. .

Everyday by ackermom (@ackermom) [rating: t | words: 2k | posted: february 2020] in short: 5 times jack and bitty woke up next to each other, and one time they didn't sleep at all. sometimes i just want a healthy dose of domestic fluff handed to me in the form of warmth, intimacy and wonderful writing. this fic delivered. i felt like it didn’t just tell me jack and bitty’s relationship status at each point, but really made me feel the depth of their emotions for each other. these boys love each other so much and honestly i just needed this fluffy fix. .

No Blood in the Sunrise by Thunderhel (@dexondefense) [rating: m | words: 14k | posted: january 2020] in short: jack is a falconer, a hunter who specializes in the supernatural and demons in particular. bittle is the head of a small witch coven dealing with a demon currently terrorizing the old frat house they call home. when i first marked this fic for reading, i didn’t know what to expect - supernatural au’s can go a hundred different directions. suffice to say i was not in any way disappointed. i absolutely adored the worldbuilding the writer weaved in while the plot progressed, i loved how in character the entire ensemble was (bitty, in particular, is incredibly well-written in this fic), and i really enjoyed this dark, gritty action take. .

Hold the Pickle by imafriendlydalek (@imafriendlydalek) [rating: g | words: 9k | posted: january 2018] in short: jack's dealing with a divorce, shared custody and a bad knee when his daughter drags him into the café down the street. that’s where he meets bitty. this was such a lovely, fluffy alternate meeting fic, oh my god. i loved this glimpse of jack as a parent - it didn’t gloss over the hardships that come along with the setup of this fic, but still allowed me to deeply enjoy the sweet overtone. jack’s slight obliviousness when it comes to bitty was so characteristic of him, and jack’s hockey subplot was fantastic. the last scene of this fic made me super emotional for our boy.

.

WIPS

No Matter How Small by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (Paradoxe1914) (@weneedtotalkaboutsherlock) [rating: e | status: 11/18 chapters] in short: jack and bitty broke up. eight years later, when they meet again, jack is still playing hockey and bitty has a kid. i am!!! so excited!!! to read this fic!!! i kid you not when i say that i check its progression every single day. i made the mistake of browsing the first two chapters to know if i’m interested, and browsing turned way too quickly to stupidly invested. i love the writing, i love the set up, and i cannot wait to find out how it all turns out! .

'cause the truth is by YourPalYourBuddy (@ivecarvedawoodenheart) [rating: t | status: 6/?] in short: samwell men’s hockey is underfunded and bitty is a famous baker on social media. the boys decide to reach out to him. i am such a sucker for any and all Y2 variants, and my all-time favorite fic trope is social media fics, so i’m really, really excited for this fic. plus, i’ve never been disappointed by one of sydney’s fics, so it just makes me want this to be completed even more. .

When Bitty Met Jack by JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle (@justlookfrightened) [rating: g | status: 4/6] in short: when harry met sally au. honestly, as this is a tiny little bit shorter i didn’t want to spoil any of it for myself, but one can never go wrong with modern adaptions of classic romantic comedies. plus, i can’t wait to see how this setup will work for jack and bitty!

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits #if you read so far and are wondering about the absolute lack of anything other than jackbitty: i am DESPERATE for ensemble fics #and/or shittylardo recs #so if anyone has any of those (or recs in general!) please share!!! #text #fic recs

[zimms]

an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post. 

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons? 

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop. 

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it. 

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in. 

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.” 

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?” 

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable. 

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself. 

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.” 

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis. 

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe. 

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. 

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer 

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him. 

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.” 

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom. 

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name. 

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?” 

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks. 

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning. 

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!” 

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly. 

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?” 

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest. 

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?” 

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store. 

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

#the formatting's kinda whack #but it's late #so i'll format it properly when i post it on ao3 tomorrow #ollie and wicks #my writing #omgcp #it's like 3k i'm so sorry

[the-lincyclopedia]

* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime. 

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is. 

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute. 

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault. 

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always. 

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other. 

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad. 

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity. 

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap. 

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: “Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form. 

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story. 

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

#mine #omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #fic recs

[nurseanddex]

You know you’ve got a friend in me 👀

I hope you’re ready for a trip to angst city my friend :)

The night before the NHL draft, Kent’s whole world was knocked off its axis. Jack hadn’t seemed quite himself, all shaking hands and mumbling words, and Kent was worried. But he’d been the same way the night before they won the Memorial Cup together, and he was fine after the game. More than fine, Kent blushed, remembering exactly what Jack’s soft hands had gotten up to when they snuck off together during the party, loosened up from the high of the win and some beers. Something about having Jack’s hands on him had made him feel almost fearless. Like nothing bad could ever happen.

Until it did.

Until Kent, returning from a last minute meeting with his agent and kinda pissed that Jack had never texted him back about meeting up for dinner, barged into the hotel room they were sharing shouting “Zimms, what the fuck?”

Until he saw an impossibly pale hand jutting out from behind the bathroom door.

Until he called an ambulance, sobbing and shaking so hard he almost couldn’t tell the operator where they were.

Until they wouldn’t let him ride along, leaving him screaming Jack’s name because maybe that would bring him back to him.

Until he had to use Bad Bob Zimmermann’s phone number for the very first time, to tell him what happened and the name of the hospital where they were taking Jack.

Until Alicia gently told him that maybe it’d be best if he didn’t come to the hospital.

Until he could not sleep that whole night because no one would tell him what the fuck was going on.

Until he had to find out from the fucking newspaper that Jack had been withdrawn from the draft.

Until Bad Bob finally called to say Jack woke up, but “He doesn’t want to see you, Kent.”

Until he was standing on stage at the NHL Draft wearing a suit that the Zimmermanns bought him as an eighteenth birthday present and he was going first to the Las Vegas Aces because Jack wasn’t there.

Until he was getting on a plane to Las Vegas and waiting until the last possible second to turn off his phone, because maybe this time Jack would answer.

Until he put on his headphones to listen to music on the flight and the CD started from Forever and Always because the universe seemed to think his life was one big fucking joke these days.

Until he touched down in his new home with silent tears drying on his cheeks and turned on his phone to see that he still hadn’t called. 

Until the taxi pulled away from the airport and the skies opened up, and Kent felt so low that he didn’t think he could feel anything anymore.

Until Kent understood, with devastating clarity, why an album that started with a fairytale love story ended with insurmountable heartbreak.

#kent parson #jack zimmermann #pimms #check please #this fic is basically let's look at kent's life and pepper in a taylor swift obsession #eventually there will be whiskent because i want him to have a happy ending #Anon #alison answers things

[hockey-prose]

Bitty Breaks the Internet

Summary: The AC in Jack and Bitty’s apartment is broken. So what better way to beat the heat than go out on the water? Bitty wears a new swimsuit, Jack takes his picture, and the picture ends up online. (Cross posted to AO3.)

It all started with that blasted weather. Simply put, it was stifling. Bitty was used to dry Southern summers and slight humidity. But he wasn’t prepared for this years incredibly humid Eastern summer. It made it worse that the AC in his and Jack’s apartment was broken and wouldn’t be fixed until next week.

So, while the two of them were boiling in their apartment, Bitty got a text from his mama.

Mama: Dicky, why don’t y’all just rent a boat and stay near the water for a few days?

That’s a great idea! Thanks Mama!

“Jack, honey,” Bitty said, adopting his extra thick accent. He knew it meant Jack would give him anything he wanted because he was sweet on his Southern side.

“Yeah, bud? What’s up?”

Bitty sat up, allowing the washcloth soaked in ice water to fall to his lap. He looked to his fiancé across the couch from him. It was so hot that the only parts of them that had been touching were their feet and ankles. There were at least 10 fans angled towards them.

“How about we rent a boat for the weekend? It’s the off season for you, and my deadline isn’t until next week.”

Jack lowered his phone, revealing the hair plastered to his forehead. Bitty’s heart squeezed with love for his man.

“I don’t know how to drive a boat.”

Bitty smacked Jack gently on the thigh.

“I do, honey! I spent I don’t know how many hours on boats in Georgia. Good Lord, the sunburns I’ve gotten. The point is that I know how to drive and I could teach you.”

“Do we want to invite other people or just have it be us?”

Bitty thought. As much as he loved every one of their shared friends, it would be nice to be just the two of them. Quiet.

“I think just us for this first time would be nice. Just the two of us?”

Bitty heaved himself forward to slide between Jack’s open legs. Jack’s eyes widened, but he covered Bitty’s hands where he’d placed them on his chest. Jack hummed.

“I like the sound of that. Want me to see if I can find any boat rental places?”

“How about we look together, huh handsome?”

The week came and went, and on Friday afternoon, Jack and Bitty took to the water at Providence Marina. Turns out, Marty had a boat docked there and gave Jack the keys to use it. The cooler that was clutched in each of their hands contained beer, soda, chips, sandwich fixings, fruit, and lemon blueberry mini pies.

After everything had been situated on the boat, and they’d had an awkward conversation with one of Marty’s dock neighbors, Bitty pulled them out to sea. They didn’t go very far, just out of view of the docks, and dropped the anchor.

Bitty turned on his portable speaker to some soft pop music, stripped off his clothes, and began making house on the boat. He could hear Jack snapping pictures with his camera. A quick look revealed that the subject was him.

“Well, now, Mr. Zimmermann. Who said you could take pictures of me just before I was about to fix you a sandwich,” Bitty sassed, planting his hands on his hips.

Jack took the camera away from his face, a love struck smile on his lips. He was also shirtless, and had laid himself on the deck of the boat to get a good angle.

“Sorry, Bits, you’re just so gorgeous I couldn’t help it. That swim suit is definitely doing you a favor.”

Bitty felt his cheeks warm, and a smile cross his own mouth. He’d bought the suit as soon as the boat was secured. It was almost a Speedo with just a bit more length. The print on them was white with light and dark blue sail boats.

“Oh hush now.”

A click.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann!”

The afternoon passed with Bitty alternating between sunning himself on the deck and taking dips in the water. Jack kept mostly on the boat, occasionally dipping his legs in when Bitty swam. By the time they pulled into the dock, his shoulders were bright pink and he winced when he lifted the cooler.

“I told you to put on some more sunscreen, honey. There’s some aloe at home, but it’s gonna take more than that.”

“Bits, bud, don’t feel too bad. I’ll wear sunscreen tomorrow and bring a shirt too.”

“You still want to go out tomorrow?”

The couple buckled themselves into Jack’s car.

“Of course, Bits. You looked like you were loving it out there. As long as it makes you happy.”

Bitty leaned across the center console and planted a kiss on the underside of Jack’s jaw.

“You’re so sweet, honey. As long as you’re up for it.”

By the end of the weekend, Jack had taken over 100 pictures. At least 50 of them were Bitty. There was a handful of scenery, other boats and the ocean. And then a few were of the two of them. One for each day. They had gotten progressively pinker as the days went on.

Sunday night, the couple went to a nice seafood just off the water before heading home to fall into bed for a restful night sleep.

Wednesday rolled around quietly, and Bitty woke to about a thousand notifications on his phone. Some were texts. Some were notifications on Twitter. By far the most notifications came from Instagram. Even though he’d made an account, Bitty barely posted to Instagram except to promote his cookbook.

Deciding to look at the texts first, he was greeted with no context chirps from his Samwell friends. All of them were about him in a swimsuit?

What?

Bitty continued to flick through his messages. There were individual messages from everyone on his former team, but also in the big “Haus 4.0” group chat.

Holster (Adam Birkholtz): dUDE BITTY MY GOD HOW HAVE YOU STAYED SO HOT????

Ransom (Justin Oluransi): Jack’s lucky that nobody saw your ass or the internet would be broken brah

Lardo (Larissa Duan): bro, bitty DID break the internet have you seen his insta and twitter??

Shitty (BS Knight): I swear on the gods above if Bitty was not single and I was not straight, I would sweep him off his feet

Nursey (Derek Nurse): chill. was truly a kim k moment for Bitty

Dex (Will Pointdexter): Love the confidence my dude. Was really a monumental picture tbh

Honey 💞: Can we not talk about Bitty like a piece of meat?

ERB: What on earth are y’all talking about?

Lardo (Larissa Duan): bits, you gotta check jacks insta first before you come in here and ask questions

So that’s exactly what Bitty did. Goodness knows where Jack was because he was not currently in bed with him. The last text he sent was at 8:45 am and it was now 9.

Instagram proved to be a tough navigator. Not because Bitty was media illiterate, but because the sheer amount of new followers he got prevented the app from running properly. After three app crashes, Bitty grew frustrated. He logged out of his public account and into his private one.

Once on his smaller scale Instagram, he searched Jack’s name. The most recent post was of their weekend relaxation trip. It was one of those collections of images. The first three were of the ocean, some seagulls, and the view from the front of Marty’s ship. The next six were of Bitty and Jack in various stages of couple poses. Somehow Jack had even managed to capture Bitty feeding him some grapes. But the last image was what set a fire under Bitty.

The picture was of that first day. Bitty was wearing his, now scandalous in his eyes, swim suit. His sunglasses were perched on the edge of his nose. You could see the heat he held in his eyes for Jack, who had been behind the camera. Admittedly, Bitty had not been thinking of his body image at the time of wearing that swimsuit. But now that he had attracted so much attention to himself due to his body, he figured a once over couldn’t hurt.

The Bitty in the picture had a firm stomach, no defined abs to speak of. What was the need for them? He was perfectly healthy. The cut of the swimsuit allowed the camera to see the faint lines that traveled down from Bitty’s hips past the line of his swimsuit. His hair was shining in the sun. The skin of the Bitty in the picture looked a little pale, but he had no qualms otherwise.

He looked good.

Putting the praise of his body aside, Bitty knew he needed to find Jack.

ERB: Thank y’all for your kind words. It means the world to me. Now I have to find Jack and have a word with him

Shitty (BS Knight): AAH SHIT JACKS IN TROUBLE WITH BITTY AHAHAHAHA

Lardo (Larissa Duan): pls don’t kill jack

Bitty locked his phone and went out into the living room. No Jack. The entire open concept apartment was empty. Bitty knew the bathrooms and home office were empty. The doors always stayed open unless there was someone in there.

As Bitty pondered how to find his fiancé, the door unlocked with a small click. Jack emerged with several bags of groceries in hand. Bitty assumed position with his fists on his hips, but this time around, it was not nearly as tempting.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann.”

“Bits! Uh, hey.”

Bitty tapped a foot on the floor.

“Euh, I didn’t know that post would go viral. I tried to soften the blow by bringing home everything you’d need to stress bake.”

Bitty came forward, taking the bags from Jack and going to the kitchen.

“Crisse,” Jack muttered before following Bitty.

“Bittle? I’m really sorry.”

“I know,” Bitty replied, his tone light. “I’m not mad, Jack. I only wish you’d told me you were going to post that where my mother could see it.”

Jack made a groan of displeasure as he approached Bitty from behind. Firm, warm hands pressed themselves into Bitty’s hips.

“Sorry, Bits.”

“Stop apologizing, honey! I’m just gonna have to field a call from my mama. I don’t think this’ll be worse than the cup, but I guarantee my family will chirp her for the rest of time.”

Jack buried his nose in the crook between Bitty’s neck and shoulder.

“George said the PR was good. We didn’t really need any more positive additions, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Well I certainly hope not,” Bitty said with a scoff. “You didn’t post a picture of me nearly naked on the Internet for nothing!”

Jack laughed, and Bitty followed not long after. Together the couple baked breakfast pastries and Bitty got his own revenge.

Jack’s picture was also shirtless, but he was wearing his sweatpants reserved for lounging at home. His arms and stomach were so much more than Bitty’s. He had a workout routine to keep up with.

Once again, the Internet broke because of Eric Richard Bittle.

#omgcp #zimbits #check please #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #lardo duan #shitty knight #adam holster birkholtz #justin ransom oluransi #omgcheckplease #eric richard bittle #jack laurent zimmermann #omgcp fanfic #omgcp fanfiction #check please! #my fic

[princessamericachavez]

I wanna write a long multi chapter fic about Jack and Shitty becoming friends but also I don’t have the mental bandwidth right now so instead I’m just gonna blurt out a long bulletpoint fic so bare with me

Okay so Shitty B. Knight arrives to Samwell hungry for life and friends and finally some fucking air to breathe and be himself away from his conservative family

And it is fucking great, okay? From the get go he finds that his loud left wing talk is welcomed here, he gets to joke around and be as weird as he wants and no one cares

He hits it off pretty quickly with nearly everyone in the team. Sure, Johnson is a little weird and keeps talking about this merely being the “prologue of someone else’s story” but what he’s really curious about is the quiet Canadian guy that barely talks to anyone

Now, Shitty knows about Jack Zimmermann. Obviously. You have to grow up under a rock to not know about Bad Bob and his kid.

He also knows what happened. It must be a sore subject.

Is that why he’s so quiet?

It’s not that Shitty makes Jack a project. Not really. It’s that Shitty has been in a place where he felt lonely and out of place before and it sucked ass. He wants to help.

So he tries. Constantly.

Because Shitty sees the spark hiding behind the ice cold facade. He sees the way Jack’s face lights up in the rink, how loud and youthfully he celebrates cellys, how protective of others he is in the ice.

That’s a guy he WANTS to be friends with.

Except he can’t. After every training, Jack shuts back up

“Hey, Jaques, wanna go grab a bite?” “Thanks but I should sleep. We got an early day tomorrow.”

“My man, Zimmermann, lets go to that fucking party across campus!” “I’d rather not.”

“Hey, let’s celebrate this fucking win!” “I was actually gonna watch the game tonight. There was a play there that keeps bothering me.”

Anything that isn’t hockey is an instant No from Jack but Shitty is too stubborn to give up.

“Hey, Jack, I was going to train a bit extra on Sunday. Care to join me? You could teach me some of those sick moves.” “Sure.”

VICTORY. Sort of. Working out extra with Jack is exhausting, physically and mentally because Shitty keeps trying to come up with jokes and keeping up 90% of the conversation.

It takes nearly a month until Jack agrees to grab a bite after their Sunday skate and Shitty is so fucking beat that he nearly falls asleep on his burger.

“Hey, Shits, nice ketchup mustache,” Jack chirps him suddenly. And it’s the smallest, dumbest possible thing but Shitty laughs a little too loud and Jacks shoulders seem to lose a bit of that perpetual tension he’s always carrying.

It gets better after that. Slowly, painstakingly, but Shitty finds himself enjoying Jack’s company more and more.

He’s a genuinely good bro. He listens, even when he’s just grunting along time Shitty’s monologues, and he asks questions that shows that he actually cares, every now and then. It’s odd, being taken seriously.

By the end of their first semester, Jack and Shitty are spending a lot of time together. Which is why he asks him to come to the art kids party where Larissa is going to be.

Who? “Brah, Larissa Duan? Just the coolest fucking chick ever! I told you about her the other day, man. She said we should come over to this thing and I would go, but I know shit about art and I would rather not go along and bring my best fucking bro with me.”

After the word vomit he worries that maybe he pushed too far, judging by the way Jack freezes and stares at him like a deer on headlights. But then Jack sighs and says “fine, I’ll go,” and Shitty whoops with excitement

The party goes better than Shitty could’ve ever dreamed. Larissa’s super chill energy seems to have an effect on Jack, who half an hour in is talking about photography with some other art kids and he even agrees to come grab a beer with him and Larissa afterwards.

Until, of-fucking-course, Jack goes into hockey-mode and asks Larissa if she would like to be their team manager. They need one and she seems good at organizing stuff.

“Brah!” “I think it would be cool” “wait, what” “I’ve been looking to do more stuff and you guys are dope. Would I get my own nickname?”

And Jack looks her with that seriousness that means he’s thinking about hockey and firmly says “Lardo” and she says “sweet” and Shitty corrects “swasome” and things are good.

Thing don’t stay good, because as chill as Shitty tries to be, life rarely stays chill.

After winter break, in the smothering tightness of his folks’ home, Shitty finds himself craving that weird and easy friendship with Jack.

Why he finds is a Hockey Robot. All Jack seems to do and talk about is how to get the team to the play-offs. He trains longer than anyone (more than Shitty can keep up with), and when he isn’t on the ice, he is thinking about hockey or talking about plays or or about eating more protein.

Shitty is angry. Not that he would tell anyone (except Lardo) because it’s really not his place (he knows about shorty family dynamics, no pun intended) but he’s mad because Jack’s folks seem to have done quite a fucking number on him over the break and it kills him to even think about it.

And then family weekend comes and Bad Bob himself shows up to Samwell with his beautiful wife and Shitty has to swallow down his anger because Jack wants them to go have diner together and it’s the first human interaction he’s had with Jack in a month so sure he’ll go.

Shitty is good at being nice and polite around people he dislikes. He hates doing it, but it’s like muscle he had to work on growing up.

Except, Bob and Alicia are nice. Like, fucking nice. Even for Canadian standards. They are sweet and funny and normal and keep reassuring Jack about their love and support every third sentence.

And still, Jack has that grim “thinking about the next game” look on his face the whole time.

Shitty is confused as fuck.

The game goes well and Jack is the happiest Shitty has ever seen him as he celebrates his goal in the ice. He even hugs Shitty and thanks him for his assist.

Three games later they are out of the playoffs and Jack shuts down everything and everyone around him.

Shitty tries. He knocks on his door at least twice a day to see if he wants to go over to the Haus to hang out with the team. He offers going out for burgers or a beer or both. He even enlists Lardo, hoping the team manager will be able to snap him out of it.

Jack leaves early for a Hockey Summer camp and doesn’t say goodbye but Shitty hears from Johnson that he also got dibs on a room at the Haus.

Jack actually texts Shitty during the summer. It shocks him so much that he has to double check his phone before replying.

The texts are just to comment on the NHL playoffs and finals, sporadic and robotic at times, but Shitty does his best to drag the conversations for as long as possible. Once the season is over, so are the texts.

Shitty assumes Jack must be pretty happy though since his old bro won the cup.

When fall comes, Shitty stumbles again into Jack’s hockey-robot mode. His intensity is nearly terrifying. He barely speaks out of practice, only leaves his room to go to lecture or the rink. Looks like he hasn’t been sleeping at all.

Shitty is worried. He’s hurt, too, because he misses the friendly Jack that had slowly started coming out of his shell, and he wonders if it’s going to be like this, back to square-one after every break, but most of all he’s worried about Jack.

Lardo tells him to give him space. She says she sometimes gets “on the zone” for an art project and can forget about the rest of the world. Shitty likes thinking of Jack as an artist, but he hates seeing him this unhappy. None of the old tricks work to cheer him up.

Then comes the first Kegster of the year. Two frogs, Hostler and Ransom, take over planing duties and the party is the biggest the Haus has ever seen.

It’s freaking dope.

And then, fucking Kent Parson fucking shows up asking about Jack.

Lardo and Shitty nearly have to drag him out of his room to greet his old best friend.

Jack is cold towards Pars, in a way Shitty has never seen before. He’s downright rude and mean in every comment, no matter how much Kent tries to joke around, and five minutes later Jack turns around and leaves him talking to himself.

He’s jealous, Shitty realizes, and he’s being petty and awful and he doesn’t know this Jack Zimmermann at all.

Shitty runs after Jack upstairs, maybe a little emboldened by the alcohol.

“Hey, brah, what the fuck was that?”

“Stay out of it, Shits.”

“Nah, man, that was weird as fuck.”

“Seriously, you don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Then tell me, man, I’m your fucking friend! Just talk to me!”

Jack slams his bedroom door on his face and Shitty deflates. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they are not friends after all.

The rest of the semester is tense. Shitty tries to focus on his classes, on the ice, on how fucking cool and pretty and funny Lardo is, on the parties and the rest of the team.

It just bothers him. He misses Jack. He’s still there but he’s been absent any time they aren’t in the rink. He’s still great and focused and nearly friendly in the ice, but anything else is like the fucking twilight zone.

It’s before a game that he finds Jack sitting outside Faber, curled into a ball and physically shaking.

Shitty thinks of the headlines about Jack OD’ing, thinks of his tension around his loving parents and his reaction to Kent Parson showing up. Anxiety. The word takes form in his head, clear and obvious and the relief of having an answer hits him so hard he wants to laugh.

Instead, he sits next to Jack, who stirs when he feels him by his side but actually seems to relax when he realizes it’s Shitty who found him like this. Jack lets out a breathy “I’m fine” and Shitty says “sure, brah, but I’m fucking nervous about tonight, mind if I sit here for a while?” And Jack shakes his head. So they sit, in uncharacteristic silence, until Jack’s breathing normalizes.

“Thanks, Shits. Could you not-“ “Don’t worry man, I ain’t saying fucking shit to anyone.” And Jack smiles for the first time in months.

By the end of the semester comes the Epikegster to end all the kegsters. Which means, of course, Shitty gets shitfaced.

Which is why he ends up stumbling drunkenly to his room in the middle of the night to grab another pair of sunglasses because who knows where the fuck his other two pairs went

And it’s why he doesn’t know how to react when he finds two linebackers throwing up on his bedroom floor

“Brah, what the fuck, get outta here!” He yells, trying to grab one of the guys and pull him out to the hallway.

Except, the guy is huge. And he is angry.

Shitty doesn’t know what hit him when someone throws him to the floor.

His brain thinks he’s been checked for a second but then he remembers he’s not in the ice.

The other guys, however, apparently don’t remember they aren’t on the field because the second dude tries to tackle Shitty just as he’s getting up and he barely has time to dodge before one gigant ducking foot goes through the bedroom wall

“Hey, man, what the fucking fuck?!”

Shitty tries to steady himself, increasingly accepting that he’s about to get into a fight he didn’t ask for. He has time to think it’s ironic that his first real fight in Samwell will be off-the-ice.

And then the bedroom door opens and in comes Jack Laurent Zimmermann in all of his gorgeous badass glory.

“Let’s all calm down, eh?”

Here’s the thing: it’s easy to forget how strong Jack is. Shitty is used to hanging out with Hockey Bros and it’s easy to forget that not everyone’s bro’s are big muscley athletes defying toxic masculinity standards one day at a time. But Jack, even when he doesn’t look that big, is one of the strongest people he’s met.

He remembers all this when Zimmermann grabs the two by their shirts and drags them out of the room and all the way downstairs.

Shitty stumbles after them, as Jack pulls them like they aren’t both huge masses of muscle and throws them out to the street.

By the time Shitty reaches the porch, a bunch of big as fuck guys are standing there, looking drunk and angry and ready for a fight.

So Shitty does the one thing that makes sense to him: he squares up next to Jack, ready to fight back to back with him.

Before they can get run over by fists, however, Jack reaches for the only emergency measure in the house: an old as balls fire extinguisher.

Two minutes later, the football bro’s are running away and Shitty is laughing so hard he collapses on the floor next to Jack.

Jack kneels next to him, with his serious hockey face on, puts a hand on Shitty’s shoulder and asks “you alright, Shits?”

Shitty nods, still laughing, and to his surprise Jack laughs too, sitting by his side on the floor. They sit there, chuckling, until the sound dies down and they both sigh at nearly the same time.

Whatever tension there was between them seems to have desipated with that clouth of dust of the fire extinguisher.

“Thanks for having my back, bro”

“Hey, you always have mine,” Jack shrugs. “What are best friends for?”

Shitty cries. Jack freaks out that he might have said the wrong thing. Shitty just hugs him and shouts about being the best bros.

That winter break Jack invites Shitty over to his house and Shitty accepts eagerly.

Bob and Alicia are sweet and happy to have him and keep saying how much Jack talks about Shitty and how thankful they are that Jack’s found so many good friends in Samwell and they’ve heard about Lardo and Hostler and Ransom and Johnson and Shitty most of all.

This time he manages not to cry.

At the end of the break, Jack and him are hanging out and Jack says “Hey, Shits, I’m not good at this but I wanted to say thanks, for not giving up on me when I was acting kinda weird.”

And Shitty just laughs and says “it’s alright man, I figured you have like hockey robot mode and then human mode.”

Jack makes a face. Shitty shrugs.

“I’ll take them both, brah.”

Jack doesn’t cry, because he’s Jack and even his human mode struggles with emotions, but he smiles and throws a snowball at Shitty’s face and that’s all he wanted really.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #shitty b knight #jack zimmermann #their friendship is important to me ok? #this got SO LONG lmfao idewk how many words it has #sofia's nonsense

[porcupine-girl]

Untamed Fic Rec List

Look, most of these are reasonably popular fics already, so if you’ve been in this fandom for a couple months you’ve likely read them. Which is not how I normally do rec lists, but I’m new enough to Untamed that I’m still reading through all the fics by authors I know from other fandoms plus ones that have been personally recced to me, so I haven’t made it into the deep dive of underappreciated fics that I normally like to rec.

It doesn’t help that one of these recs is 445K, so for like two weeks straight it was basically all I was reading.

BUT if, like me, you are rather new to this fandom and its fics, here are some good ones:

The Same Moon Shines Series by sami

This is the 445K behemoth, made up of 23 works, and is technically made up of three interrelated series. The first fic, which establishes the whole universe/multiverse, is 139K on its own. Basically, decades into the canon future, WWX invents time travel.

He goes back to being born, but is reborn with all his memories intact. And he fixes, like, fucking everything and it’s so, so fucking satisfying. Everything’s not perfect though - for example, he like lowkey (highkey?) traumatizes LXC by showing him his previous life via empathy and that has some consequences eventually. Featuring ace poly JC/LXC/WQ triad.

Then in a cracky subseries, appropriately called “ridiculous future bullshit”, we assume that the main six from this universe (WWX, LWJ, JC, WQ, LXC, JYL, & Lan Sizhui) all achieve immortality and find out what they’re up to in the modern day, where they’re revered in the Five Nations (this does a great job of staying in the canon world instead of ours) but of course white Western assholes do things like try and make a disney movie called Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch where they marry LWJ off to a girl.

And then in a third subseries, which so far has only one WIP fic, we go back to the canon universe, find out that JC and LWJ were stuck there watching WWX disappear in his time machine array (so WWX actually split off into another universe, he didn’t rewind his own), and so they get into the array having no idea what it will do but wanting to chase down the asshole they love. And so a third universe is born, where they are both born with their memories but WWX is not. I absolutely love seeing how different their priorities are from WWX’s in terms of what they want to change in their new life.

(Also: This is technically a MDZS fic that usually goes with novel canon over show canon if there’s a discrepancy, so if like me you haven’t read the whole novel you might need to look up some plot points now and then.)

The Vermillion Ribbon by @unforth

AU where Wei WuXian was taken in by Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s parents instead of the Jiangs. LWJ (who is the POV character) is a super DUPER dick to him at first, like even moreso than in canon, but the speed with which he regrets his choices is breathtaking and extremely satisfying.

LWJ is a VERY unreliable narrator. He has absolutely no idea what is going on with himself or anyone else at any point in time. Eventually he at least becomes self-aware of this fact, and can at least go wait am I missing something? I think I’m missing several somethings but fuck if I know what. Wei WuXian not understanding this about him leads to some miscommunication, because WWX doesn’t get that LWJ needs absolutely everything spelled out to him in single-syllable words with crayon drawings and y’know, WWX isn’t going to be straightforward anytime he can pretend he’s TOTALLY FINE :D :D :D instead.

LWJ’s friendship with NHS is magical, and NHS in general gets 810% more opportunity to scheme and plot pre-time-of-NMJ’s-canonical-death than in canon and is honestly living his best life. It’s also valuable for LWJ to have a scheming friend because, aside from realizing he misjudged WWX, this is how he starts to figure out that he’s a dumbass who has no idea what is going on ever. But he can count on NHS to always be ten steps ahead, so it’s okay.

(ETA: I’m sorry, I made unforth feel like maybe LWJ was too dense, and no, he’s very much not stupid in general. Like, honestly the fact that he becomes so self-aware of the things he’s bad at, and does things like trust NHS to always understand the stuff he’s missing, makes him come off as very intelligent. It’s just in the specific realm of understanding anything that people say or do that isn’t 100% honest and straightforward that he is just entirely hopeless in a rather relatable way, and like I said, WWX’s go-to is hiding any and all pain so that is a bad combo.)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou

This diverges from canon when WWX is on his way to Jin Ling’s one month celebration, but doesn’t bring Wen Ning along. So when Jin Zixun attacks it goes very poorly for him, poorly enough that Jin Zixuan thinks he’s dead and it’s reported back at Carp Tower as such. Sending LWJ into a dissociative state. He manages to break through to reality just long enough to find out that Jin Zixuan took WWX’s body back to the burial mounds and left it with Wen Qing, and to get on his sword and go directly there. Thankfully, it turns out that WWX is not dead, but only just barely so.

So LWJ stays there, because now that he spent some amount of time (he isn’t really sure if it was like five minutes or two hours, because dissociation) thinking WWX was dead he now knows that he should never, ever be anywhere but with WWX.

Honestly, it almost feels like a spoiler to say WWX doesn’t die, but there’s no major character death warning while there IS one for graphic violence so it’s not a chose not to warn either, so that’s technically not a spoiler. But things are touch-and-go for him for a very, very long time. And the romance is a slow burn with pining galore. And you get to see LWJ teaching A-Yuan to play the guqin, so like imagine being WWX and you wake up from almost dying to see that going on in your cave.

Velle: to will, to wish by @aerlalaith

This one is actually canon-compliant, and as it’s both quite a bit shorter and more straightforward, plot-wise, than the others, my writeup will be short but that doesn’t mean I loved it any less. Basically, it’s the process of LWJ deciding to adopt A-Yuan in the aftermath of WWX’s death. It starts just after he’s been beaten for turning against the other cultivators, and at first it’s mostly his grief and both physical and emotional pain. A-Yuan starts slipping in to visit him. and LWJ isn’t sure if he’s really okay with that at first.

Of course he becomes very okay with it, but the Lan elders and Lan Qiren and all aren’t just going to be like “ok sure you can barely walk you should def adopt a four-year-old of unclear origins who may or may not have something to do with your demonic dead boyfriend and the evil people he helped, that’s cool,” so it’s not that simple.

There’s a followup fic where, years later, LWJ chooses the courtesy name Sizhui and Xichen gives him shit for it.

save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae / @fozmeadows

Continuing on my grand tour of Untamed fics by my fave writers from other fandoms, I get to enjoy having overlapped with foz on a third straight fandom which is just fabulous. I totally thought I wasn’t gonna read AUs and then this asshole comes along and writes AUs, which is not playing fair.

I especially love this because it’s modern day but much like ridiculous future bullshit it’s modern day in (more or less) a canonish world, not our world. So like, they fly on swords, but not long distances because it’s easier to take a train or drive rather than use up all that spiritual energy.

Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan miss the old ways, though, and they think the best ancient tradition to bring back is arranged marriage! Because that will go over well with today’s youth. They try to make LWJ marry Mianmian but he’s like “um I’m gay” and LQ throws a hissy fit about that so Jin Zixuan (who is LWJ’s bestie and is fucking hilarious) hatches a plot for LWJ to cause LQ to stroke out by bringing WWX to Lan Xichen’s birthday party as his fake date.

But when LWJ and WWX meet up to talk this over, LWJ is instantly fucked because WWX has a small child with him and it turns out that this small child is the orphan he adopted. He doesn’t notice he’s fucked until a few days later, though, when WWX comes over for “kissing practice” and they fuck and he calls Jin Zixuan all “I think I caught a feel, what do?” and JZX is like idk, you’re a moron, don’t ask me to clean up your moron messes. And the next day LWJ buys a car seat.

Lan Wangji heard about Jack 110% Zimmermann and said “challenge accepted,” is what I’m saying here. And now I’ve written as much about this 33k fic as I did about the 445k, so I’ll shut up before I just recount the entire plot.

#the untamed #fic recs #wangxian #if I haven't recced your fic I probably haven't read it yet #literally this is most of the fics I've managed to read so far #when I say the same moon shines took up all of my reading time for 2-3 weeks I am being entirely serious #and then vermillion ribbon is 220+k so it took a week or two too #so like i've got ao3 emails waiting in my inbox for fics by tippy and moosefeels and through_shadows_falling and a few others #I promise I will get to them!

[justlookfrightened]

How hard could it be? Part 29

Start from the beginning

Part 28

Bitty stood on the porch in front of the door.

His mother and father were on the front walk, staring up at him. He was uncomfortably aware that in this position, he was framed by the balloon arch.

“Of course we have to get pictures,” his mother said. “If your young man went to all this effort, he should see what it looks like. And your cap and gown were mailed to the house not three days ago.”

She stepped forward, placed the package she held on the middle stair, and stepped back.

“He’s not my young man, Mama,” Bitty said. “I told you, we’ve never even met in person.”

His mother looked at him in disbelief. 

“You mean to tell me that this … this hockey player did all this and there’s nothing between you?”

“Not nothing,” Bitty said. “We started emailing last month. He happened to see me on YouTube, and he tried to make a pie, and he had questions.”

“And on the strength of a few weeks correspondence, he did all this?” she persisted.

“Sort of,” Bitty said. “I mean, we’ve been talking for a while, on the phone and over video chat. He got this team to set up a baking thing for the players, and they’re going to push it out over their social media channels. It’s a big deal for me.”

“Good for you, son,” Coach said.

“So you don’t have a boyfriend you haven’t told us about?” his mother continued.

“No, ma’am,” Bitty said. Not that he wouldn’t have liked to have Jack as his boyfriend. Jack was gorgeous, of course. That went without saying. But he was also kind and serious and sweet and a bit of a dork. He had a sly sense of humor that snuck up on Bitty, making him snicker at the most unexpected times.

Of course he’d like Jack for a boyfriend. By now, he was pretty sure Jack felt the same, even if he didn’t quite understand the attraction. But they’d never said as much out loud. They talked about what it would be like when they could see each other, about how Bitty’s baking equipment would take over Jack’s kitchen and how Jack wanted to find out if Bitty could actually beat him in a race on the ice. Bitty supposed Jack wanted to meet Bitty in person to find out if the attraction translated. Maybe he was worried Bitty had horrible breath or something. 

“When there’s something about my personal life I want to tell you, I will,” Bitty told his parents. “But for now, we’re friends working on a baking and social media project, and he knew I just finished school and we didn’t get a chance to go to hockey playoffs and he said I deserved to be celebrated. And he sent boxes to all the seniors on my team.”

Bitty’s mother was looking at something on her phone. 

“If you’re sure,” she said. “It’s too bad. He is good looking. You know, I think your Aunt Connie had a poster of his father on her bedroom wall when we were young. He looks a lot like him.”

“I know,” Bitty said, because he had broken down and Googled Bad Bob Zimmermann. “His parents helped him pull this off. And they apparently recorded graduation speeches for us.”

Bitty hesitated, and said, “We’re doing an online party -- the other seniors and me -- tonight at eight. I can send you a link of you want.”

“Will Jack be there?” his mother asked.

“No,” Bitty said. “It conflicts with his team’s game night.”

He had promised to record the team’s reactions to Jack’s parents speeches, but his parents didn’t need to know that.

“We’re still planning to have the family over for your graduation when we can,” Coach said. “We didn’t mean to overlook you.”

“I know, Coach,” Bitty said, even though that came to as news to him. 

“If he can, Zimmermann is welcome to come,” Coach said. “I can’t imagine the cost of a plane ticket is much of a barrier to him.”

“Maybe,” Bitty said. “He might not be comfortable flying. We don’t even know when that will be.”

Or whether Bitty would still be in Georgia. He and Jack had started talking about whether it would make sense for Bitty to move back to New England sooner rather than later. 

Bitty had been pretty effectively quarantined for the duration, and if he drove himself, without stopping overnight, it shouldn’t be too risky. He could bring food and use gloves to get gas and pull off at the side of the road when he had to pee.

But that would mean leaving MooMaw alone, and then there was the problem of where he would stay. Jack had offered his guest room, but Bitty thought he should be quarantined for two weeks after he got there before risking a meeting with Jack, and Shitty and Lardo didn’t have a guest room.

“Well, we’ll see what happens,” his mother said. “Just so he knows he’s welcome. Now go get that cap and gown on. Nice clothes under it, too. We have plenty of time -- we can talk to your grandmother while you get ready.”

Jack had sent a thumbs up when Bitty sent the pictures, including one with the briefcase and one with him in cap, gown and Samwell-red mask.

Bitty was in front of the Samwell flag when he let the seniors and their families into the video conference that evening. 

Shitty and Lardo had come too, and Ransom and Holster. His mother and Coach were there to watch, microphones muted.

MooMaw had made hors d'oeuvres and Bitty made cupcakes and he had the bottle of champagne ready to open. 

The guys -- and Bitty’s mother -- gasped when the video of Alicia Montgomery popped up She reminisced about her days at Samwell, and said how sorry she was that they didn’t get to say goodbye to the well and have senior day.

“Remember to drink deep from the well of life,”she said.

 Then Bob appeared, dressed in his Habs jersey. He compared graduation to winning the Stanley Cup, which, well, might be giving graduation too much credit.

He encouraged the graduates to aim high and work to achieve their goals.

“Remember, as a good friend of mine used to say, you miss all the shots you don’t take.”

Bitty pressed the button on the mp3 player, and the strains of “Pomp and Circumstance,” tinny and thin, rose from his laptop speakers.

Bitty and everyone else popped their champagne and drank.

Part 30

Now posting on AO3

A/N: There is one installment after this. I might add an epilogue; I haven’t decided yet.

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #my fic