midnightwhispers12

[midnightwhispers12]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Check Please! (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Jack Zimmermann Characters: Eric “Bitty” Bittle, Jack Zimmermann, Georgia “George” Martin Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Body Image, Injury Recovery Summary:

“Sweetheart, I know how you feel about slowing down, but maybe you should try to change the narrative,” Bitty says gently.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, instead of telling yourself you’re falling short of some arbitrary standard you’ve set for yourself—your healthy self, by the way—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 do that?

Permission? That’s a new concept. Jack can’t recall ever giving himself permission to slow down.

Or, the one where Jack spends a summer injured and learns a few things in the process.

Read on ao3

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Something that's so funny to as a concept is that Jack, Chowder, Dex, and Whiskey all going to the NHL and reaching NHL stardom but and so they do a joint little interview segment, and Chowder is going on and on about how much Jack was a great captain, and so the moderator asks "I guess Jack was your best cattain in college, huh?"

And Chowder just immediately goes "Oh no Bitty was much better" and the moderator does a spit take

Dex is like "Bitty had a certain air about him when he was captain. He was commanding, but understanding and really lived up to the whole 'Got your back.' ...also, not gonna lie, it was kinda hot"

Whiskey just stares for a minute and goes "Jack was a great captain and did really good by the team." [A pause] "But Bitty didn't make us wake up for practice at 5am even for optional skate"

Jack is just looking at them all with a giant smile on his face and trying not to laugh as the other three chirp him

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imagine bitty sitting on the couch and jack slumping over to him and stopping when he stands in front of him. and bitty just smiles and opens his arms and jack smiles a little 🙂in return and kinda clumsily straddles him and tucks his arms between bitty’s back and the back of the couch and huddles over him, head on bitty’s shoulder and shoulders a hunched tent over bitty’s body. let 6-foot jacques sit on bitty’s lap and just completely cover his body and let eric bittle hold him there and stroke his back :)

and then jack chirps him like “haha where’d you go?” and bitty smacks his butt

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There’s nothing quite like spending two days searching for a specific fic on AO3, that you KNOW you remember, but don’t remember the name of, only to finally realize that you’re looking in the wrong fandom. It turns out that when I got into the right fandom? I found it in like five minutes.

I feel like an idiot, but in my defense, several fandoms/pairings have a dark broody strong and silent type dude, a fair(ish) haired skinny sassy dude, and a scary smart redhead female best friend. I’ve got a minimum of three that I read frequently, just off the top of my head, and more if I’d remembered a detail wrong.

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Important poll: do you pronounce the words “fairy” and “ferry” the same, or differently? And where are you from?

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WAIT I HAVE ANOTHER ONE reblog with the childhood movie you loved but you swear nobody else had heard of mine is quest for camelot

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Sometimes Bucky thinks the guys who are hitting him hardest are the ones that ain’t exactly on the straight and narrow themselves. Sometimes he knows that they’re the ones he’s gone to his knees for in the past, flushed with victory and alcohol and the recklessness of the young; sometimes he recognises the low voices in his ear before a brutal check, even if they’re growling something new.

So he ducks his head. He skates off. He scores on them, over and over, ‘cos what the fuck else is he going to do? He’s done his fighting, he’s done with fighting, and at least this way - let it go, let it go - he gets to keep hockey.

Maybe it would be different if his team had his back.

Still, some games are better than others. Some teams are better. And the fans - sometimes the number of rainbow flags in the crowd makes him have to take a minute, swallow hard, skate harder to prove them right. He Can Fucking Play.

He shouldn’t let his guard down, though, even in places he figures he’s safe. Even with teams like the fuckin’ Heroes, with their golden-haired square-jawed Captain, and their post-game pressers that sound like the moral at the end of a ‘90s cartoon. He shouldn’t let the constant quiet jibes of their D-man get under his skin, but it’s one check too many and this time he shoves back.

It’s a slow curling smile from Rumlow that he gets in response, and Bucky fumbles at his gloves ‘cos that doesn’t look like a smile he’s getting away from. And the quick hiss of skates on ice ratchets his shoulders a little higher, ‘cos he’s not gonna escape from this one easy if the other team are converging.

He’s tearing at velcro with clumsy fingers, head ducked low, when he realises that there’s no hits coming. That it’s not his team’s violent red but solid blue that’s cut in front of him, shoulders like a wall. That somehow Clint Barton - sharp-shooter, workmanlike, clown in front of the press - has his back to Bucky and is squaring off against his own D-man and dropping his gloves to the ice.

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Can I Ask You a Question?

Because I was thinking today about how questions that seem settled and hurts that seem healed sometimes come up again, even in loving healthy relationships.

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Jack chirped as he pushed the front door open.

Sometimes he couldn’t believe this was his life: a berth on a team that welcomed him even after he blindsided them with his coming out last year, a condo that felt more like a home than ever since Bitty moved in permanently, Bitty making something that smelled delicious in the kitchen …

When he was 18, he never thought he’d be allowed to have this.

“In here,” Bitty responded unnecessarily.

Jack headed that way, pausing to drop a kiss on Bitty’s head where he was bent over his laptop on the counter. The laptop, the three saucepans on the stovetop, the mixing bowls stacked in the sink all added up to Bitty trying to perfect a recipe for the cookbook. There were probably three pies in the oven, each with minuscule adjustments in their ingredients. Good thing Marty had that barbecue tonight.

“I’m gonna go shower,” Jack said. “Maybe watch something in the den.”

“Mmm,” Bitty hummed, before he pressed a key and looked up. “I’m sorry. How was the workout?”

“Good,” Jack said. “Back to skating next week.”

“That’s great, sweet pea,” Bitty said, eyes already shifting towards his notes.

“I’ll let you get back to it,” Jack said, hefting his bag on his shoulder.

Once he was clean and comfortable in sweats and a threadbare Samwell T-shirt, he flopped on the couch and started flipping through his streaming queues. It still felt weird to sit and do nothing in the middle of the day, but everyone — the athletic trainers, his personal trainer for the summer, even his therapist — agreed that rest was important.

His stomach rumbled and he remembered food was important, too, but he didn’t want to get in Bitty’s way. Maybe he should get a mini-fridge for the den? That way he could keep some protein shakes in here.

Before he could make up his mind to go look for food, Bitty was coming in with a plate piled with chicken tenders and corn and tomatoes salad.

“I did them up in the air fryer,” Bitty said. “I know you’re hungry after training.”

“Thanks, Bits,” Jack said, accepting the plate and taking a bite out of the top tender. It wasn’t quite the same as a real fried chicken tender, but Bitty used some spice blend that added a little flavor, and they were healthy enough to eat a couple of times a week.

Jack was profoundly grateful that Bitty and Nate had come to an understanding this year.

“Uh, Jack? Can I ask you something?”

Jack set the plate on the coffee table and looked at Bitty, standing near the door, hands twisting in a dish towel. This might be more than wanting him to decide whether the apple pie was better with a half teaspoon or a full teaspoon of nutmeg.

“Sure, bud. What’s up?”

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

Jack took a breath. The first time Bitty was afraid to say something after he moved in was when he took Jack’s car to the market and came out to find a scratch on the door. Jack had been confused; it wasn’t even Bitty’s fault, but even if it had been, it was simple to fix. It had made Jack angry a little — at Bitty’s parents, because he had to learn that fear somewhere, right?

“Of course not,” Jack said. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out.”

“And you won’t laugh?”

“I don’t think so,” Jack said. “Unless you’re going to tell me a joke?”

That weak attempt at humor fell flat, as Bitty’s gaze fell to the towel in his hands.

“It’ll be fine,” Jack said. “But you have to tell me what it is.”

“That’s what Lindsey said too,” Bitty said.

“Lindsey?” Jack repeated. “Is this something you talked about in therapy?”

“Sort of,” Bitty said. “Yes. I made a joke, then she asked what I meant and … yes, we talked about it.”

“Okay,” Jack said. It didn’t sound too serious if Bitty had joked about it, but Bitty did use jokes as deflection. “Why don’t you tell me what you said?”

“She asked what I was doing this weekend, and I said I was going to hit the gym,” Bitty said.

Jack nodded, because he and Bitty had spent time working out together almost every weekend since Bitty moved in. Jack always felt calmer in his skin after physical effort, and Bitty seemed to as well. And, well, they both seemed to like the way the other looked when they were sweaty and flushed. Post-workout sex would have gone a long way towards making the effort worth it even if Jack hadn’t enjoyed the exercise.

“Okay,” Jack said. “What was the joke?”

“I said I had to make sure to keep my athletic physique so you would still like me,” Bitty said, now looking at the sofa cushion to the left of Jack’s thigh.

Jack took another breath in, then settled himself back against the sofa, consciously letting his arms fall open at his sides. He’d promised not to be angry, and he didn’t want Bitty to think he was.

“Do you really think that?” Jack said. “Do you think I would lose interest — that I only love you — because of your body?”

“No, of course not!” Bitty said, stepping more fully into the room. “Don’t be silly. It’s not like my body could ever even compare to yours!”

“That’s not the point,” Jack said. “I love you, and I love your body, and, yeah, I think you’re hot. But that’s because you’re you. I thought you liked working out together.”

“I do, really,” Bitty said. “I just should have said that to Lindsey. It was just a joke.”

“It’s never ‘just a joke,’ Bits.” Jack leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “There’s always something behind it.”

“I know that’s what Shitty says,” Bitty said.

“But it’s true,” Jack said. “Do you really think I only love you for your body?”

“When you put it like that, no,” Bitty snorted and finally sat down.

“You do have a beautiful body,” Jack said.

“Not like yours,” Bitty said.

“I need to be strong for my career,” Jack said. “It’s not vanity. And you and I both know chances are my body will be damaged in some way by the time I’m retired. Will you love me less?”

“Of course not.” Bitty sniffed. “You’re gorgeous, you know that, but that’s not why I want you. And I know it’s your job. Until a few months ago, it was kind of my job too, if I wanted to keep my scholarship. But I don’t know how long I can keep it up, not with the job and the book and my YouTube channel.”

“I never said you had to.”

“No, not in so many words,” Bitty said. “But look at you. Look at your family. Your mom is an icon, your dad looks like he could still play. … You don’t want someone who looks like the ugly duckling.”

It was Jack’s turn to stand up.

“First, you could never be an ugly duckling,” he said. “No, first, my dad could not still play. His knees are shot. But even if he could, you wouldn’t be the ugly duckling, and I’d never make you feel that way. Neither would my parents. I don’t care if you lose all your muscle or gain 50 kilos or whatever. I was the ugly duckling — that’s what gossip magazines called me when I was a kid, and my parents always loved me because I was me. I love you because you’re you. And I’m not angry, but I guess I am a little hurt that you think I wouldn’t love you as much because you don’t have an NCAA athlete’s conditioning schedule anymore.”

“So you’re saying you’d never body-shame anyone?” Bitty asked.

“I’d hope not,” Jack said. “People come in all shapes and sizes.”

That’s what maman had told him when the other kids teased him about his weight.

“You sure about that, Mr. Eat More Protein?”

“What?” Jack sat heavily on the sofa again. “That wasn’t about you … about your body. That was about hockey.”

“About my body … me … playing hockey.”

Shit. Jack knew he’d been an asshole to Bitty when Bitty was a freshman. If he’d had any doubts, Shitty had been pretty clear on more than one occasion. But whenever he apologized, Bitty always waved it off, said it wasn’t necessary.

“Are we doing this now?” Jack asked, when he found his voice.

“What do you mean?” Bitty said.

“I mean, will you finally let me apologize for the way I acted at first?” Jack said. “It wasn’t about you —”

“You said, it was about hockey.”

“And me, and my anxiety about whether I’d ever make it.”

“And now that you have it’s all fine?”

Well, no, Jack knew his anxiety would never really be fine. But before he could say that, Bitty continued.

“I know that in your mind, it was about the team, and about you,” he said. “But what you said was about me, when I was new on the team, the smallest guy there, with Ransom and Holster calling me a fainting goat and saying they should make a play of it. But at least they acted like they liked me off the ice.”

“Do … do you think I don’t like you?” Jack asked, because this was a rabbit hole he has not expected to fall down today.

“No, of course not,” Bitty said. “I know you love me.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief.

“But I know you didn’t like me at the beginning,” Bitty went on. “You didn’t like me until I became an asset to the team.”

“No,” Jack said. “I mean yes, you did become an asset to the team. But that’s not when I started to like you.”

“No?”

“No. It was checking practice,” Jack said. “You hated it. You’d nearly faint if I pushed you, even when you were in full pads and I didn’t even have a helmet on. But you kept getting up, you kept showing up. You were so determined, even though it was clear that you probably should have been in therapy then. You were — you are — so strong. And then when you voted for me for captain, even after your concussion — that was so generous.”

“As if anyone else could be captain,” Bitty sniffed.

“You did pretty well,” Jack said.

“Hush, you.”

“No,” Jack said. “You need to know what an incredible person you are. I’ve told you before, I am sorry for the way I treated you. It was wrong. And I’m sorry I never realized that it might make you feel insecure about your body.”

“C’mon, Jack, we both know I don’t have the usual body type for a hockey player,” Bitty said. “Just like I wasn’t much of a football player.

“No excuses, Bits,” Jack said. “It’s good you’re getting therapy. I know I’d be in a lot worse shape without it. But please know I love you. I love your body because it’s part of you. I’ll always love your body no matter what, because it will always be part of you.”

“And I’ll love you when I have to help you off the couch, old man,” Bitty said. “Sorry for — ” he waved his hands — “all this.”

“No, I’m glad you told me,” Jack said. “You still want to go to the gym tomorrow? You don’t have too.”

“Are you crazy?” Bitty said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Or read on AO3

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Please consider a Zimbits meet cute scenario in which they work out at the same track every evening. Bitty always runs steady, evenly paced laps. Jack, on the other hand, is always doing some sort of sprint workout and changes direction every lap (“to keep things even”). They know each other well enough to nod when they pass each other but never speak, until one day they both get to the track and the gate is locked…

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Two identical infants lay in the cradle. “One you bore, the other is a Changeling. Choose wisely,” the Fae’s voice echoed from the shadows. “I’m taking both my children,” the mother said defiantly.

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Why? WHY!?! I’ve been on a kick of reading Supernatural fanfic again, and there’s a couple of pervasive themes that drive me absolutely INSANE, and I have no where else to rant about it, so. Here we go.

Tonight’s topic, because I about screamed my head off in the fic I just finished reading: I’ve seen so very many times now Dean being pushed to come out as gay/bi/whatever, by literally every single supporting character. Everyone telling him that it’ll be fine and he’s got nothing to lose and nothing bad will happen. Every. Single. Character. telling him these things, and pushing him to come out when he doesn’t feel ready yet.

But the thing is? These fics are set in the Real World. And in the real world? Bad things do sometimes happen when people come out. Is it something that should happen? No! Of course not! But does it happen in the real world? Absolutely. It’s much less likely that someone would lose their job for coming out now than it was a decade or three ago, but it’s still a possibility in a lot of places.

I understand, to a point, that in the world of fan fiction, we all like to pretend that everything is rainbows and sunshine, and nothing could ever go wrong. But when you set your fic in the Real World, and give one of your characters fears about coming out in that world, you then - in my opinion - have somewhat of a responsibility to acknowledge that there’s a reason for those fears. Is some of that fear likely internalized homophobia? Probably. But is some of it justified terror that their life will fall apart because other people around them are homophobic? Absolutely.

It drives me absolutely bonkers that the supporting characters in these fics don’t seem to understand or acknowledge these very real fears. They act like Dean is unforgivably stupid for being afraid that he’ll lose his job for having a boyfriend. But in a lot of careers, in a lot of places, even now in 2022, your job could be on the line if you came out as a man in a relationship with another man - never mind fics that were written/set 8-10 years ago, or even earlier.

It can depend on where you live, and what field your career is in, of course, but let’s break those down in terms of frequent Supernatural all-human settings. What I see most is fics set in a small-ish town in the Midwest or the South, and Dean in a stereotypically masculine career (mechanic, sports player, sports coach, handyman, etc.) or, weirdly more often than I would’ve expected, as a teacher.

I’ve lived in the Bible-belt of the Midwest (not Kansas specifically, but a neighboring state), and I’ve lived in the ridiculousness that is Texas, and from what I’ve seen, outside of major metropolitan areas? Dean would be justified to be leery about coming out. Even more so as a sports coach or a teacher, where it’s frequently written into your contract that you can be fired for anything that’s “shocking to the community.” In one town, it might be fine, everyone would be super accepting and supportive. But two towns over, or in the next county, you might lose your job in the exact same circumstances. (That’s based specifically on where I grew up, if you’re curious. There was an amazing teacher in one town’s high school who happened to be an openly gay man, and all the kids loved him and tried to find him a boyfriend. But a couple towns over, where most of the school board all go to the same church, I can basically guarantee that teacher wouldn’t have kept his job.)

And I’m not saying that I want bad things to happen to Dean when he comes out in these fics, of course not. I want it to be a world where a man publicly having a boyfriend isn’t career ending as much as everyone else does. But I can’t STAND it when Dean is worried about these things, and his friends and family are telling him he’s an idiot for worrying about it, rather than acknowledging his fears and trying to talk it through with him. I’d be a lot happier to see friends and family asking him to think about if it’s worth the risk, or helping him make contingency plans for if something goes wrong.

It just bothers me. I think part of it is because there’s an awful lot of overall Dean-bashing everywhere I look. I frequently read about his friends and family lying to him, insulting him, manipulating him, issuing ultimatums, holding him responsible for things that aren’t his fault, generally flying off the handle at him for being a fallible human being. Dean is always somehow wrong, even when he’s right. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve read about Dean being forced to apologize to a person that hurt him, while they acknowledge zero wrongdoing on their part. Or someone lying to Dean, and then Dean being the one to apologize to them for the lying… that they did. Because that somehow makes sense? Anyway. With all of that milling around in the back of my mind, the “you’re so stupid for being scared” speech just makes the cauldron of irritation in my brain boil over. Because sometimes Dean’s right, there’s a possibility that a man coaching football would lose his job and never coach again if he publicly dated a man, there’s a possibility that a man teaching pre-k/kinder/elementary school would lose his job if he came out as gay, there’s a very real possibility that for a high level sports player coming out would be career ending. It’s horrible that it’s true, but it’s still true that these are the realities that men in our society deal with, as infuriating and heartbreaking as it is. So to see a character condemned for worrying about it, or being pressured to come out in those situations, is…. Frustrating for me. Let people come out in their own time, when they feel ready; it doesn’t matter if you think their fears are rational or not, that doesn’t stop them from feeling afraid.

Rant over, I suppose, since the cauldron is back down to a simmer, rather than a roiling boil. On a side note, if you have any fic recs for stories where someone hurts Dean and then actually takes responsibility for it and apologizes for it and works to make it right, or stories where Dean stands up for himself and someone actually respects his wishes, let me know! I’d be thrilled to read something like that.

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bitty is forty and jack forty-five and they’re lounging in bed naked and content after having rekindled their friendship and passion for each other (for eight hours straight) before jack glances at the clock and goes, “fuck, are we tuesday? we’re tuesday aren’t we?”

“we sure are, hon.” 

“shit, fuck.” jack stands and nearly breaks his nose when his foot catches on the sheets. “I’m late for class.”

bitty rolls on his side, props his chin on his elbow. “oh, lord,” he chuckles. “twenty year old jack zimmermann would never.” skip class to get laid? what a wild man jack is, now. “you can always ask for someone to give your their notes.”

jack glances over his shoulder as he pulls his pants on. “bittle. I’m giving the class.”

bitty’s eyes widen. he stands up, goes to kiss jack on his cheek, and notices how jack’s hands lingers on his waist. “well, at least you won’t have to ask for notes,” he laughs, through another soft kiss.

bitty nuzzles under his jaw, and jack groans. without too much resistance, he lets himself be pulled back onto the bed. “ah, fuck it, I bet they all left already.” 

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“you okay, bud?”

“uh hu.”

“wanna go back to the bench?” 

“nuh. celly?”

jack chuckles. “all right. who with?” 

“uncle ta?”

“for sure. anyone else?” 

“daddy?”

“ha. daddy doesn’t have skates on, bud, but we can try.” 

happy birthday @tangredont​!! 💚 I wish you the best for the year to come, including many conversations about jack, bitty, and all their cute babies! 🎉🎉🎉

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a cat shows up on jack's balcony one day, and then refuses to leave. at first jack is afraid that maybe it's stuck there (he lives on the sixth floor, it's a legitimate fear), except no, because one morning on his way to the rink jack sees the cat sunbathing down in the alley behind his building and that afternoon the cat is back on the balcony. so apparently the cat is able to come and go from a sixth floor balcony and just... decides to hang around anyway.

they co-exist pretty well for a while. sometimes jack feeds the cat leftovers and in return sometimes the cat rubs against his ankles when jack sits on the balcony reading a book.

but then winter comes. it starts getting colder and colder and jack has a hard time sticking to their status quo, because on really cold nights he's wide awake thinking of how the cat is faring instead of getting his much needed seven hours of sleep. he even leaves the balcony door open while he goes on a roadie (reasoning that burglars, unlike cats, probably can't climb six floors to break in), but when he comes back it doesn't seem like the cat took the unspoken invitation.

the first day it snows, jack crouches down in the balcony's doorway and tries everything. he glares, he pleads, he even tries enticing the cat in with some chicken, but the cat stays stubbornly huddled under the wooden chair jack sometimes reads on -- fur matted with freezing water and very clearly shivering -- and refuses to come in.

jack doesn't know anyone with pets and he's got no clue what to do about the situation, so in a fit of desperation he googles the nearest vet office and drives there on his day off.

dr. oluransi is busy with a patient when jack gets there. the patient is a canary with a sprained wing, the receptionist informs him cheerfully, and then asks if jack made an appointment.

the receptionist is... unfortunately attractive. it's a real problem, because jack doesn't do too well with people he finds genuinely attractive. it doesn't help that he hasn't, actually, made an appointment, because apparently it's not possible to make a vet appointment without a pet.

he does his best to explain his problem to the receptionist (it goes... as well as can be expected when jack is left to interact with attractive, outgoing people, which means he says all the wrong things and probably comes off as a giant dickbag, in shitty's words). at least the guy seems more amused than offended. he promises to check with dr. oluransi whether he can fit jack in, but returns with an apologetic expression to say that they're completely booked and technically, there's no admission without a pet, so dr. oluransi really can't help him anyway.

fuck. well, jack tried. he's just about to give up, maybe give glaring at the cat until it comes in another go, but just as he turns to the door he's surprised by a quick "wait!". when he turns back around, the receptionist is stepping away from his desk, looking up at jack.

he asks if jack tried to catch and wrap the cat in towels so it can't escape. jack considers it before he asks, "...is that safe?", because that sounds like it could go so wrong, but the receptionist smiles and says, "yeah, that's the only way to bring cats in if they won't take bribery! those sweet furballs do not enjoy carriers, lemme tell you". jack panics over potentially hurting the cat and asks the receptionist if he's got any experience with it, and the receptionist kind of blinks at him and says, "well, I, uh, helped ransom -- um, dr. oluransi once or twice, yeah! it's no big deal, really!". they then stare at each other for an awkward moment while jack tries to decide if he's going to sound like a probable murderer if he invites a stranger to his home, but the guy beats him to it by hesitantly offering, "would you... like my help?"

so. okay. either jack doesn't look like a probable murderer or the receptionist ("bitty! or -- eric? sorry, all my friends are from college and I sometimes forget how to adult") has very poor self-preservation skills. either way jack won't look a gift horse in the mouth.

bitty meets him at the building's lobby after his shift ends, carrying soft towels and cat treats and a -- pie? which jack assumes isn't meant for the cat, but then again he doesn't know anything about cat diets, so maybe it is. he chatters at jack while they ride up the elevator (the canary's name is meg, her wing is just fine, bitty took a picture of her sitting on dr. olurnasi's head, does jack want to see?), and his smile is really nice and he doesn't seem offended by jack's everything and he's still really unfortunately attractive. jack focuses on the cat problem instead, because even stubborn cats are easier than people.

it takes bitty approximately fifteen seconds to gain the cat's temporary trust -- jack thinks the cat treats must've helped, and feels a little cheated because the dry chicken he offered couldn't have been that bad, jack eats it five times a week -- and one minute to trap the cat in a big, fluffy towel and lift it into his arms. the cat is fast, but bitty is faster, and jack is impressed. the cat -- not so much. jack has never heard anything yowl like the cat is yowling in bitty's arms, as if it's being carried towards a torture chamber rather than to a warm safe space with an actual roof.

the cat, miraculously, stops yowling once bitty sets it down on jack's living room floor. it hisses at bitty, glares at jack, and then promptly gets distracted by all the fascinating new smells. apparently the space underneath jack's couch is a prime hiding location. it's warm, and there's no snow, and the cat isn't trying to destroy any of jack's furniture, so overall jack considers the whole thing a raging success.

"does it have a name?" bitty asks, after he's done cooing at the cat and trying to take pictures of its flashing eyes in the dark space under the couch. "apparently y'all are going to be roommates, so it should have a name, right?"

bitty is smiling up at jack again, and his cheeks are flushed and there are gray-white cat hairs all over his sweater, and jack doesn't trust himself with naming a cat and also wants to ask bitty to stay, maybe forever, because jack can be intense like that -- except that's probably an insane thought to have. his next one isn't great, but it's definitely better than inviting bitty to move in. "you should name it."

bitty, it seems, doesn't think that's too weird. in fact, he beams like that's the greatest thing he ever heard. he doesn't think it's weird when jack invites him to stay for dinner, either, and doesn't think it's weird when the cat finally comes out of its hiding place and jack feeds it bits of meat from his plate. he does think it's weird when jack asks if the pie was meant for the cat, but in a good way, probably, because he laughs and laughs and feeds jack the best pie he's ever eaten and also gives jack his phone number before he leaves.

the cat warms up to bitty again, eventually, and even curls up on bitty's neck while bitty is curled up in jack's arms. jack thinks it's definitely all the cat treats.

tl;dr: a cat adopts jack, as cats do. the cat is stubborn, as cats are. the cat brings jack bitty and sometimes even allows jack to pet it, because cats are smarter than people and that's just a fact.

[midnightwhispers12]

Hey, if anyone happens to run across it - I’ve been looking for a Zimbits fic for several days now and can’t seem to find it. Jack was playing in the NHL - as he does - and I don’t remember what Bitty was doing (work? School? Idk). But there was this one specific scene of Jack wearing a microphone during a game, and the mic caught some of the opposing team making… really awful remarks. And I want to say there were some consequences for the opposing team being so blatantly homophobic towards him. I honestly don’t remember anything else that I’m sure is about this same fic, but I swear a scene like this happened somewhere and I can’t find it for the life of me. (Or maybe I dreamed it??? But I don’t think so.) If you run across it, let me know please? It’s kind of driving me crazy.

[midnightwhispers12]

No magical chosen hero’s quest until you turn 18!!