#and tango was supposed to be his first team member but he fucked up and now tango is a future villain-that-gets-redeemed

[fluxedbuds]

can’t believe it took me this long to make a magical frosted tango tbh

[beacon-lamp]

with hermitcraft season 7 slowly coming to an end, i figured it was time to consolidate all of the Informative Posts about hermitcraft that i and some of the other members of hermitblr have made over the last several months.

if you enjoy:

minecraft youtube content, but want to see more traditional vanilla minecraft gameplay like building and redstone

fun, lighthearted interactions between genuine friends including Elaborate pranks, collaborating on massive projects, light roleplay, proximity voice chat mod

weekly 20 - 40 minute long youtube videos and consistent upload schedules

chill grind stream weekends where CCs interact with chat and each other

an entire youtube channel dedicated to weekly 20-minute recap videos on what all the hermits have been up to so you don’t have to piece it together from the posts on your dash/timeline

insanely talented people who have been doing mcyt for nearly, if not more than, a decade and essentially built minecraft youtube from the ground up

give hermitcraft a try!  

you will find all of the information you will Ever Need below the cut.  it’s Very Long so view it on desktop.

and if you ever have any more questions, just shoot me an ask :)

what is hermitcraft?

the Basics: what, who, where, how

more details on the Basics

bonus: the historical impact many hermitcraft members have had on mcyt

where do i even start watching?

start with grian.

good mix of Incredible builds and fun server shenanigans.  instigator of many server-wide events.  interacts with many other hermits.  generally entertaining to watch.  but zero redstone knowledge.

check out hermitcraft recap.

great way to be introduced to other hermits and learn what everyone’s up to.  if you find what a hermit’s been working on interesting, go watch their video and maybe give them a like and subscribe.

official hermitcraft website with links to every member’s channel

more information on every hermit’s attributes and general vibes

do hermits every stream?

short answer: yes, most do!  but these streams are mostly chill grinding or buildling streams.  and you don’t have to watch the streams to be caught up on content.  check the official hermitcraft website for each member’s twitch links.

long answer that covers most of the hermits

what do they do on hermitcraft?

let’s start with some examples of their incredible builds.

hermit cribs: some of the megabases in s7

goodtimeswithscar’s s7 magical village with shaders

stressmonster’s bakery and ren’s star wars world

Capitalism

they have a shopping district where hermits can set up shops and sell items and resources that other hermits can buy with diamonds.  here’s season 7 shopping district set on a mooshroom island:

some of the most advanced redstone you’ve ever seen

if you’re more into the technical side of minecraft, you can be rest assured that hermitcraft has some of the Biggest Brains in redstone.

tangotek: a fucking madlad.  Singled-handedly created the minigame Decked Out.  im Begging you to watch his tutorial video on how to play.  currently finishing up his Among Us but in minecraft minigame. all of this was built Entirely in survival vanilla minecraft.  get this man to 1M subscribers.

mumbo jumbo: the man himself.  built a 128 x 128 block industrial district in both season 6 and 7 packed to the Brim with mechanical farms.  half the brain behind the masterpiece of engineering that was Sahara in season 6.  currently working on Pacific, the sequel to Sahara, in season 7.

iskall85: the other half of the brain behind Sahara and working on Pacific with mumbo in season 7.  also has an industrial district like mumbo’s in season 7.

xisuma: built an automatic potion brewer in the second half of season 7.  this thing churns out potions by the Shulker Box.  can also turn a shulker box full of potions into splash potions and extend duration all with a press of a button.

impulseSV: incredible example of form + function.  farms are scattered throughout his base.  he has a farm for nearly every farmable resource in vanilla minecraft.

etho: the pioneer of some of the most widely used redstone mechanisms to date.  content isn’t super redstone-focused.  mostly does compact modules that serve a specific function.

zedaph: makes strange contraptions.  he’s basically if grian knew how to redstone.  impeccable vibes and fairly underrated.

bdoubleo100: he occassionally does this segment called “redstone with bdubs” and it’s the only redstone i understand so that’s why he’s here.

what about roleplay?  and lore?  

yeah they have Plenty of that too.  

it generally comes in the form of self-contained storylines that involve most members on the server and take place over the course of several weeks in multiple videos.  it’s fairly light roleplay, if that’s not your thing.  but the plotlines also have a Massive Potential to be angsty and whatnot if you really look into it, which a lot of people also do.

here’s a more in-depth look into the Major Plotlines over the last 2 seasons (season 6 and 7).  huge spoiler warning though.

um also there’s this post that highlights how truly cursed hermitcraft can be if you dig deep enough hahaha.

so do the hermits only make hermitcraft content?

nope!!  many of them are involved in other mcyt content as well and are friends with other prominent members of the mcyt community!!  

MCC

mcc9 blue bats video essay: the time the hermit team won the whole damn competition.  a wonderfully made video worth Every second of your time.  especially if you don’t typically watch the hermit teams.

falsesymmetry: mcc10 ace and mcc’s First Back-to-Back Winner

lord grian dreamslayer: that time grian Popped Off, killing dream, tubbo, and fundy in mcc9 survival games

Vault Hunters

a modded minecraft server coded entirely by iskall85′s team.  all the content is streamed live on twitch.  

current members are: Iskall85, AntonioAsh, Stressmonster101, HBomb94, CaptainSparklez, Fundy, CaptainPuffy, 5UP and Tubbo

more info on the series 

3rd Life SMP

hardcore minecraft server with a twist that started on 4/20/21.  all content is posted to each member’s respective youtube channels.

every member has 3 lives, as indicated by the color of their name: green for 3 lives left, yellow for 2, red for 1.  if they lose all three lives, they can only spectate the world (like in hardcore mode).  the series ends when all members have lost all three lives.

the twist: once a member is on their 3rd and final life, as indicated by a red name, they are Hostile and their goal is to take the lives of the remaining players.

the members (hermits are italicized): BdoubleO100, bigbst4tz2, Etho, GoodTimesWithScar, Grian, impulseSV, InTheLittleWood, Renthedog, Skizzleman, Smajor1995, Smallishbeans, SolidarityGaming, Tango, ZombieCleo

the tumblr tag for 3rd Life is “#3rdLife”, “#3rdLifeSMP” and “#3LSMP” if you wanna see more content, as it’s Not supposed to be cross-tagged with “#hermitcraft”.

do you have any free serotonin to spare?

here’s a bunch of posts that’ll make you smile

scar’s friendship with a bunch of the hermits

grian, false, cleo, bdubs, iskall: why they deserve so much respect

same post as above but with an addition about ren

small hermit things that give you serotonin

why you should watch tfc

if you’ve made it this far you are Contractually Obligated* to watch one (1) hermitcraft episode and reblog this post.

*for legal reason, this is a joke.  you’re not contractually obligated but consider this: Please. i spent way too much time on this.

shoutout to everyone who’s posts i’ve linked and anyone who has helped answer a question about hermitcraft.  this all started because i was frustrated that people were writing the hermits off as cannon fodder in mcc and im genuinely so glad that many of you have given hermitcraft a shot.

[biinaberry]

Potion Parasite Story

Wow, there are a lot of you. I might be writing two fics for this story so I’m going to give the basic premise. However underneath the read more I will provide the entire plot, so if you want to see it, go-ahead.

The base premise starts in S6 during the civil war between Team Star and the G-Team. Team Star, finding themselves on the losing side, realizes they need an advantage to push themselves to victory. False and Wels brainstorm together, as co-leaders in arms, and suggest the idea of stronger potions. Pitching the idea to the rest of the team, and with approval, the group forms a cohesive plan to try and create a super potion that has the effects of instant health, regeneration, swiftness, and night vision all in one. Xisuma is originally against the idea and through some gentle persuasion, and peer pressure, allows the potion to be created.   The potion is a success! At the meeting table, the team comes together in the joy of the team's success and after lifting their glasses; downs their potions to victory.  The effects are instant as they instantly feel rejuvenated and ready for the next fight as they grab their weapons and gear. However, as time goes on the other hermits start to notice something is wrong with their fellow companions. Xisuma’s visor has a more magenta shade along with Doc’s eye, but it all comes ahead at the next fight. Stress slices False’s arm and for a few moments she sees; her blood is pink. 

From then on the Team Star members also start changing personality wise, they still have the same core traits but something has... shifted. They are more driven on healing and making sure the other hermits are okay to an uncomfortable degree. Before, the hermits would trust the others to take care of themselves, but now whenever someone takes a few hearts of damage the members will start questioning them on if they really are okay. They are never without the pink potion.  See the potion is a parasite, slowly overriding their mentality to constantly have 3 things in mind: Heal others, Heal yourself, and Spread the Potion. Often combining with the team’s need to protect their friends and making sure they’re alright; what started out as a simple advantage turns into manipulation as it uses their love for their fellow hermits for its gain. Wels is still as level headed as ever and Impulse still has the joy that seeps out of every word he says, but now they feel off. And the infected know they can’t just force the potion onto others, no no no. They just create situations a little more... dangerous, for their friends. Pushing others off of ledges and guided traps for the hermits, they slowly wait their time until their prey to be too hurt to deny some help. I mean, that’s how they got Zedaph anyways. Alongside TFC and a few others. The others hermits aren’t oblivious to whats going on around them, they know that there is a major problem, but what are they suppose to do when they are fighting against superhumans that can take 3 creepers to the face and walk it off like its nothing. And they cant take too many risks because one wrong move and they will make you drink that parasite. Everyone is tense and Tango had to drop out of the war because he was too busy with being the replacement admin because of Xisuma using his powers. Alongside losing his other support pillar to the thing that took his friend. Eventually the war comes to a close because G-team simply can’t beat their opponent and its better to take a loss than to risk getting infected. People can heal from war but not like this, so caution would be their best friend right now.  Eventually however, a light was found at the end of the tunnel, because in the chat a simple message read, [Zedaph blew up] And miraculously instead of coming back with pink freckles, Zedaph came back.. as his normal self. The entity was gone, driven from his body once he awoke again in bed. And as Zed shook his head with fuzzy memories surfacing he knew, Tango and the others needed to know this.   After some planning, a gamble was taken and as Grian put the finishing touches on the treasure pile, Demise was in effect. And everyone hoped that this would turn out in their favor, for there was only two ways this could go: Success or Failure. But you and I know how this story turned out, the hermits won in the end and the infected was defeated however that sadly enough isn’t the end of our story for one person was left in their sleep, Welsknight. Alone in his house, abandoned by the rest, the parasite started to get more attached to the player. The bright pink filling his veins and gave a pink hue to them in the light. The parasite fused deeper into his body, into his muscles and bones the influence the creature has grew steadily over time as the other players moved onto season 7.  When he finally awoke his eyes were different, reflecting a bright pink sheen when light was reflected off of them, but he didn’t mind. He never did in the first place. And as Cub rescued him from his confinements in the dead world he realized that he needed to get his old team back. Needing to stay low to get rid of suspicion he build his base and bought from the cow-mercial district and eventually when everyone was situated with him being back, he flew over to False in search of his co-leader. Instead of meeting a fellow infected he was met with someone cured and no matter his tries as subtle persuasion with the builder, she didn’t seem to take any of his bait. He waved her goodbye and left disappointed but didn’t lose his hopes in bringing protection to the other hermits.  Those who were saved from the infection knew how it controlled them and made them lose themselves. With the promise of protection and safety however they later realized how wrong that statement is, but Wels never got that message. Stuck in a mentality that to him seems beneficial but to others it’s a restriction and erasure of individuality. Wels stays undercover until the arena fight with Xb and all hell breaks loose. As one of his opponents drops an anvil on him, that should have killed him, he simply brushes it off and gets back up to continue fighting, but the damage has already been done and Joe witnessed the whole thing. Joe knows how that infection works, seeing it in action right in front of him during the war, and in that one moment he realize how badly they fucked up, because they forgot to account for him too. Joe confronts Wels and tries to reason with the other on how the infection wont help, but Wels is stuck in his ways believing he is helping. A verbal fight happens between the two in hushed whispers between Wels’s exclamation that the hermits will be kept safe with the potion and Joe’s firm stance that the parasite will eliminate individuality and that it cares more about keeping itself safe rather than its host. Wels eventually leaves, knowing he can’t win this one.  When Wels’s persuasion with a few other hermits doesn’t go to plan he finally decided to try something new. Go for those who were gone during S6 and the plan was a success. With a new crew of Beef, Etho, Hypno, Xb, the infected decide to bring some more trouble for the rest to deal with. The Hermits, now prepared, work together to slay the new infected and it’s a success. However when they lay the final blow on Wels and he wakes up in bed, they are met with bright pink eyes. It didn’t work.  

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Some Goddamn Curtains

When I was in college, I kept getting the compliment, “Wow, your room is really nice for a guy.”  I never understood what that meant for the longest time.  Then I actually paid attention to how most guys kept their dorm room. I once waited for a guy to get ready to head down to an event. I realized that I had never actually stepped foot in his room, much less even glanced inside of it. So when he stepped out and said he was ready to go, I leaned to the side over his shoulder and oh my god it was like downtown Baghdad during the worst of the Iraq War. Damn bruh, you live like this? I liked all my college roommates but the most untidiest one was in sophomore year. He left his toothbrush lying around in the open in a sock drawer, and it would end up somewhere else each night. Maybe he liked to play scavenger hunts to keep himself on his toes? He never put the DVDs back in their respective cases. I once couldn’t wait to watch Iron Man with a friend at their dorm, only to open the case once I got there and realize that my roommate had replaced it with Season 1 of Martin. He would also do this thing where he would drink a can of Coke (that I bought), not finish it, put it back in the fridge, then later open a new can of Coke that he didn’t feel like finishing, and rinse and repeat. First year roommate wasn’t that bad. Third year roommate was nearly as tidy as I was. Then in my fourth and final year I lived alone,  so my sense of the idea that “guys were messy” didn’t really hit me because I’ve only had one bad experience and chalked it up to “It was just that one guy”. I’m 31, and by now I have noticed people saying things like, “Oh my God I was actually thinking about what curtains I liked and I’m such an adult. This is what adult thinking is like. I’m adulting now.”

I hate hearing shit like that. I grew up blithely admitting liking things that an adult would “normally like”, such as curtains. The curtains thing came up in high school when I hung out at the senior lounge. The senior lounge was this bare room that looked like it was meant for old people to sit and play bingo. It was boring and dull and I hated it. It felt more lke a prison cafeteria really, with some worn out couches. I would bring my video games to that lounge, namely GoldenEye 007, to play with friends during our free period.  The room didn’t have any curtains, so at a certain time in the afternoon, the sun would beat down directly onto the screen, making it difficult to see properly. A lot of us would squint and move closer or lean forward.  I then said, “This room needs some curtains.”

A pause, and then someone replied, “Did you just say this room needs curtains?” And I was like, “Yeah. Maybe something blue. Something dark.”

And he looked at me and scoffed, and all the other guys did the same - they gave me this funny sideways glance and scoffed. I asked what the problem was, but they mostly shook their heads in disbelief. I was frankly annoyed by their response. So I said, louder, “This room needs some goddamn curtains”, because I thought it was perfectly fucking reasonable that a person would logically do something about the fucking glare from the fucking sun. Maybe they liked blinds better. Who knows? But it took me ages to fully realize two things:  1. It’s not socially acceptable for boys to be interested in style - whether it be about living spaces or clothes. I was fiercely made fun of for the clothes I wore as a kid throughout young adult life. I hated all kinds of t-shirts. I think growing up thin and gangly made me too self-aware of my arms. But I never specifically wanted to wear anything that had a band name or a company logo or even my favorite video game or movie. I would feel like a walking advertisement, and that would piss me off. I often liked ties, long-sleeved shirts, and sweaters. I never left the house in sweatpants or pajamas. I always had to comb my hair and put on a good shirt. Sweatpants were when you worked out or worked around the house fixing things.  I grew up in Catholic school, so we had uniforms. On dress down days, my classmates would come up to me and say, “Eddie, you were supposed to dress DOWN, not up” or “I can’t believe you’re wearing that on a dress down day!”.  I didn’t have a problem with people dressing how they dressed. Sure I was never into the goth thing, but I didn’t want to judge. I just wanted to dress how I wanted to dress. And maybe I was influenced in some way by how my parents dressed me up, and maybe other times I did feel embarrassed, but I knew that at the end of the day I would wear what felt most comfortable to me. Sometimes my mom would give me a sweater that was a tad too bland, so I went to the bathroom once I got to school and took it off. I would like the polo but untucked it and unbuttoned the top buttons. Half-and-half. Right idea, but lemme wear it like this instead. College was really when I started to develop my everyday style, my “main outfit”, like a video game character. I always wore some untucked button-down shirt with a tie, jeans, and sneakers. I liked it. It was this weird blend of dressing up and dressing down. People my age thought I was overdressed but my parents and people over 50 complained that I was underdressed. It was great! It feels so special to piss off both sides! My parents still remember the time I got an award at college and I went up the stage wearing that getup. You look at the picture and see the students standing side-by-side in nice dresses and dockers, and then there’s me wearing jeans and sneakers with a shirt and tie.  There always seemed to be this false dichotomy for how men should look and be - either the dapper “metrosexual” man who was slightly effeminate or the rough-and-tumble strong man who didn’t need to use an umbrella when it rained and never cared to fix his hair because that’s some “gay shit” for silly city folk. That false dichotomy is always played out in media. There’s a million buddy cop movies about the book-smart guy who is suave and sophisticated teaming up with the street-smart guy who is all muscle and manly and goes for the more practical route. Yin and Yang. Hot and cold. Good cop and bad cop. Lucky and Wild. Tango and Cash. But growing up I thought, “Why not both?” I loved watching James Bond as much as I loved watching Indiana Jones. Why couldn’t I be both if I really wanted to? It fit me best to play both roles. I AM GOING TO MIX THESE TWO THINGS AND YOU CAN’T FUCKING STOP ME! I WILL BE BOTH BOOK-SMART AND STREET-SMART. I KNOW THE QUADRATIC EQUATION AND HOW TO CON SOMEONE. THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM.  The fucking worst though is being an adult now and hearing women wish they knew a guy who “dressed properly”, and men complimenting my clothes saying I look sharp.

Fuck all of you, honestly. 2. Young people are afraid to admit they like things that adults like. I grew up with extended family members living in cozy homes. I liked to admire their grandfather clocks, their decanters, their entertainment center, their offices and their chairs. I liked to wander around their houses during the holidays and poke my nose into their closets and admire old things. Maybe it’s something that an only-child might relate to the most. I wasn’t required or asked to be upstairs to attend a younger or older sibling. The adults just did their own thing and so I wandered off. Ikea always tickled my fancy as a kid. I would wander through the model rooms of offices and bedrooms and bathrooms, and I found whatever felt coziest to me and pretended that I was home. Better yet, I sometimes daydreamed that the entire Ikea facility was my home. How about that? Tired of sleeping on the bunk bed? Go to the next room to the big bed. I feel like cooking in that kitchen today, not this one. Some days I’ll feel more serious and work in the wooden office desk and other days I’ll feel silly and be in the kids room. I’ll take the whole building, please. This is where I live now. Swedish meatballs for dinner and creamy European chocolate bars for dessert every day. Young people fear being old and facing responsibilities. That doesn’t mean you liking these things makes you older. Taste and style is part of who you are, and there’s no shame if you have an interest in some bath mats or a nice decanter when you’re 20 or 17.

When I lived in my single dorm back in senior year of college, I realized that I was truly living alone for the first time. It brought some sanity to me that I didn’t know I needed. I was able to organize things how I saw fit, and hosted parties whenever I wanted. If I felt like something needed adjusting, I didn’t need to ask anybody’s permission. I really started exploring my sense of style and taste. As I grew up, I developed really specific tastes about where I would live: 1. Everything has to make sense. The placement of shelves, TVs, desks, dressers, paintings, pictures, all have to feel like they are easily viewed and accessible without needing to awkwardly turn to face them or reach them.  2. Symmetry is not always necessary but still good to fall back on when you don’t know what to do. 3. I never liked to sit with my back to the window(s) or the door. I always needed to see who or what was going to approach me or look at me.  4. TVs should never go on top of fireplaces.  5. Always have some kind of drawing room for guests to wait.  6. Never put your keys or sensitive documents in the foyer, drawing room, or wherever else strangers can easily find them the minute they walk into the house.  7. Open concept is pretentious.  8. It is far easier to cook if you have an island in the kitchen.  9. McMansions are the bane of style. Fake balconies, fake shutters, brick facades - everything about them is evil.  10. Get some goddamn curtains.

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 14)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 13

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Dex looks up, startled.

There’s only a handful of people who know that Dex spends most of his lunch breaks in the theatre club’s wood workshop. Ford is in on it, of course, since she literally gave him a key. Then there's Joyo, who inevitably ran into Dex within less than a week – if there's one person on the hockey team Dex had known he'd encounter all the way across campus in the art building, it's definitely Joyo. It really hadn't been much of a surprise when Joyo had stepped out of the pottery studio right opposite just as Dex was locking up the workshop. Dex had been prepared, had already made up his mind to simply tell Joyo exactly what he was up to and ask that Joyo keep it a secret. (Joyo had sworn, most dutifully, not to tell a single living soul. It had been unexpectedly sweet.)

Other than that, the only people who know are the theatre kids themselves, who have graciously granted Dex the use of a corner of their workshop in exchange for his advice on the construction of a few of their more elaborate set pieces. Which is why Dex is more than a little bit surprised to find Whiskey standing before him, out of breath in a way that suggests he’s just run all the way across campus.

“How did you know I was here?” Dex can’t help but wonder.

“Ford,” Whiskey says, and suddenly Dex feels silly for asking. Of course Ford would tell Whiskey, if Whiskey needed to know. There’s probably more sacred pacts between Whiskey and Tango and Ford than between all the other team members put together. “This is kind of important, and she… Wait. What’re you doing?”

Dex looks down at his work for a moment, contemplating his answer. He’s actually gotten pretty far. The red oak boards he’s using for the surface of the table are glued together, and he’s currently in the process of using a hand plane to smoothen it out before he can move on to sanding. Still, there’s actually nothing that gives away what it is that Dex is making, exactly, which is presently to his advantage. He's always intended to tell as few people as possible, just in case.

“I’m using a hand plane to even out the surface of this red oak,” Dex settles on.

Whiskey looks down at the tool in Dex’s hands. He blinks, once. Then he shakes his head a little.

“Sure,” he says, and looks up to face Dex again. “D’you have a second? I’ve kind of got… This thing.”

“Of course.” Dex puts down his things and leans back against his work bench. “What’s up?”

Whiskey, who has obviously gone to great lengths to speak to Dex as soon as he possibly could, hesitates.

Dex raises both eyebrows, a little curiously.

Whiskey clears his throat.

“There’s this guy,” he says, the words coming out in a rush.

“Oh,” Dex says. He feels pleasantly surprised. "That's… That's great, Whiskey."

It’s been so long since their pivotal conversation out on the porch, during the first kegster of the fall, that Dex has started to Whiskey might never bring this up again. Apparently, he was wrong.

Whiskey sighs, running a hand through his hair. He isn't not smiling, but it's a near thing.

“Honestly? I'm not actually sure.”

"Okay," Dex says slowly. He's far from certain of how he's supposed to navigate this. Especially since Whiskey doesn't seem at all inclined to take the lead. "D'you wanna… What's he like?"

That makes Whiskey look away briefly, possibly in an attempt to hide the way his expression softens.

"He's, um. He's kind of amazing. Completely out of my league. I've got no idea why he keeps wanting to spend so much time with me."

Dex smiles.

"It sounds like he likes you, too?"

"I guess," Whiskey says carefully. "On some level, at least. We, um. We've been studying together, and also… Not studying together. Lately, it's kind of been more of the latter."

"Right." Dex tries not to grin too widely. "Good for you, man."

Whiskey cheeks turn a little pink. It's completely out of character and strangely endearing.

"Well, anyway," Whiskey says quickly, with a sudden willingness to move the conversation forward. "The thing is, I'm not out. And he is. And I really want something that's more than whatever we're doing right now, but it's not like I could ask him to go back in the closet. So I'm just not sure what to do."

"... Huh." Dex ponders that for a moment. "And you're not planning on coming out?"

"No," Whiskey says, very firmly. "I'm not going to. That's not an option, here."

"Alright," Dex agrees gently. "That's completely okay, Whiskey. I'm just trying to get the full picture."

"I know that," Whiskey says quickly. "It's just, I've been thinking about that a lot, myself. I'd be asking so much less from him if I at least thought I might come out at some point, maybe in a few years or something. But I'm just not going to do that."

"Right." Dex nods, smiling. "Years, huh?"

Whiskey frowns, a little defensively.

"That's completely okay," Dex repeats firmly. "What I mean is, you're clearly thinking about this guy in a very long-term sense. He must be someone pretty special."

Whiskey looks away abruptly.

"I know. I'm being so stupid," he says quietly. "He probably thinks of this as just a bit of fun, or whatever. And even if he doesn't, a lot of relationships don't actually last past college. I know that. It's just, I tend to consider any important decision in a very long-term sense, and I do really like this guy a lot. A lot, a lot. So much that I could definitely see myself with him years down the line. Even if that does make me a presumptuous fucking idiot."

Dex takes a moment to ponder that. Suddenly, he's almost tempted to tell Whiskey the true purpose of the unfinished wooden table next to them. He wonders how Whiskey might react, if he did. It's not something he's ever considered before – he's been too busy wondering what Nursey will think of it, once he eventually gets to see it.

It's the question that's been occupying both Dex's waking thoughts and his dreams, lately, whether or not Nursey will actually say yes.

"I don't think you're being stupid," Dex tells Whiskey softly. He traces his fingertips across the surface of the red oak. "It's not necessarily a bad thing to know exactly what you want from someone. I think the really important thing is going to be how you tell him."

Whiskey raises both eyebrows. He looks incredulous.

"You think I should tell him?"

"Well, yes." Dex smiles. "If you want to be with this guy, then he's going to need to know where you're at, here. He's not going to magically read your mind."

"But I can't just…" Whiskey begins, before faltering. "I mean. If I come on that strong, and that's not how he feels… Then what?"

"Well." Dex thinks for a moment. "You might not want to lead with the bit about years down the line. But I don't think you should necessarily leave it out. He might not have considered any of that just yet, for sure, but there's a major difference between asking him how he feels about it as opposed to just letting him know it's something you could see in your future."

"I guess." Whiskey sighs. "We might not even get to that point in the conversation. If he isn't okay with having a relationship behind closed doors, it's game over. And I sort of doubt that's anything he's ever dreamed of."

Dex hums. "Has he said something like that?"

Whiskey thinks for a second.

"Not exactly. But I can't imagine he came out because he's a big fan of hiding."

"Right," Dex agrees. "But I guess you've been meeting up pretty discreetly so far? For your, what was it…. Non-studying sessions."

"We do actually study, sometimes," Whiskey says quickly, his cheeks turning distinctly pink again – under different circumstances, Dex thinks privately, he'd have charged a major fine right there. "We have a class together and everything."

"Oh, let me guess," Dex chirps, grinning. "Anatomy of the human body. Project partners. In-depth study."

"Oh, for fucks sake. No." Whiskey rolls his eyes. "We've been kissing non-stop, if you must know. But nothing more. Not yet, anyway."

For a second, Dex mentally kicks himself for teasing Whiskey to a point where he felt obligated to share something so private. Except, there's a change in Whiskey's expression after he's said it. He catches Dex's eyes, a small smile playing over his lips, almost like he's waiting for Dex's reaction. And that's when Dex remembers – Whiskey doesn't actually get to do this, like, ever. He never shares in their jokes about being a disaster bi or too gay to function, never comments on whether Chris Evans is hotter than Chris Pratt or which one of them he'd rather fuck or marry. To Whiskey, boy talk is a rarity, a luxury he seldom allows himself to enjoy.

Suddenly, Dex wonders if he ought to have teased Whiskey more.

"Sounds like plenty of fun to me," Dex settles on, offering Whiskey a grin. "For what it's worth, it sounds like this guy is more than a little bit into you."

"God, I hope you're right." Whiskey runs a hand through his hair, almost absently. He's still smiling. "If him and I could actually work out, that’d be… I don't know. Almost too perfect.”

"Talk to him," Dex encourages readily. "And let me know how it goes."

"Yeah. Okay." Whiskey exhales. "Now I just need to come up with a decent plan."

Dex barely resists rolling his eyes. Of course Whiskey would require a solid strategy, before attempting a high-risk play like this.

"I'm sure you'll come up with something great. You already know this guy fairly well, right?"

"For sure, yeah, I… Wait." Whiskey snaps his fingers. "Yes. You're right."

Dex raises a curious eyebrow.

"So," Whiskey continues quickly. "On a not unrelated note... Is there any chance I could borrow your truck, sometime? Maybe this Sunday?"

"Of course," Dex promises. "Whatever you need. I'm rooting for you guys."

"Thank you." Whiskey smiles again, and there's a weight to his words that probably doesn't have a whole lot to do with Dex's truck, specifically. "Dex, thank you so much. Truly."

Dex returns his smile. He wonders, not for the first time, who the fuck he should offer his dibs to now that Whiskey already lives in the Haus.

"Anytime. And good luck."

ch. 15

[greenninjagal-blog]

currently vibing in a two-week lockdown, can you share some of your favorite fics? i need some new things to read, and I've got too much time on my hands-

Aw man, same! The rest of my actual Spring Semester got turned online… Let’s see…..Fic recs for the pseudo End of the World (Courtesy of AO3, arranged by most prominent ship!) Keep in mind that my descriptions are shorter and written mostly for comedic effect than the actual fics, so if something looks interesting Click it! Get more info about it! Don’t just take my word! I tried my best to get a lot of variety of fics and topics and tropes, as well as authors that might not be as well known! Uhhh here are the links to lists I’ve already made for various other reasons check out my Fic Rec Masterlist!

I also am including various of my fav authors masterlists for funsies!

jungle321jungle’s || Max-isTired’s || TrashficParlour’s || Lefaystrent’s || Mine!

Completed Fics

A Deal in which Virgil tries to summon a familiar and gets a Circle King instead. And he’s really pretty. (Anxceit)

Love Like You in which Virgil decides to give up looking for a romantic partner and considers adopting instead. He finds more than he’s looking for with a set of twins and the man who watches over them (Anxceit)

A Dragon’s Tail in which Logan is cursed to be a Dragon by his best friends stepmother, Virgil is struggling to learn a power he can’t control, Patton who’d rather marry a servant than the Prince, and Roman has no clue what is going on but the Prince he’s supposed to be saving can probably kick his ass. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

A Game of Vice in which Remus kidnaps Roman and turns it into a game of who can come save him from his lonely tower. (Logicality, Prinxeity) 

double down with the paradigms in which Logan tries to explain away his own OCD while dealing with the emotions he has for a certain Pre-Vet. Excellent depiction of OCD, made me cry, 300/10 would read again. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

It Takes Two to Tango in which Roman begs his brother, Logan, to let him go back in time to meet a famous dancer. Falling in Love was not part of the plan. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

A favorite star in the heavens in which everyone has at least one soulmate. They’re luckily enough to have three each. (LAMP) 

Forgotten Forests and Magnified Myths in which Logan finds out very suddenly that he has the passive ability to talk to dragons. (DAMP, Remilie)

Sense5 in which five people in different countries are suddenly psychically linked together and uh…yeah fun times. (DLAMP)

Stray Hearts Are Subject To Change in which black cat hybrid Virgil plans to die very heroically in an alley and Roman completely messes up that plan by being a decent human being. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

Hidden In Shadows in which Virgil is the boogieman every adult warned you about but he doesn’t actually enjoy being scary. Good thing the three Sanders kids aren’t scared of anything. (Not so good for their very confused Dad who isn’t sure what to do about their new imaginary friend)

Paved with Good Intentions in which the dark sides agree to send Virgil to the light sides as a way to get Thomas to listen to them more. Now if Virgil can just get along with the Light sides enough to actually start making some progress…

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone in which Logan is a morally grey scientist who just works for supervillains because they pay well. He doesn’t expect someone like Virgil to change that.

Series

Clouds and Moss AU in which the sides are gods and its very gay and very good. (Intrulogical, Roceit)

Colors in which Logan is an excellent Dad, Virgil is an amazing son, and the world is very colorful. (Logicality)

Labeled in which Logan is a famous superhero, Patton is a doctor, and they adopt the would-be super villain and everything is soft and lovely and I cry at the purity. (Logicality, Remilie)

Fbi!au in which the sides work for the fbi and I diligently reread these series of oneshots for a daily dose of serotonin!  (Logince, Moxiety)

Growing Old is More Fun with You in which Patton is a PTA dad and so is Deceit and they have a “rivalry”. (Mociet)

Gilded Cage in which Roman is forced to dance for the fairy queen whenever she wants it. (Prinxiety)

Renegades! in which the sides live in a dystopia and fight the government while being completely in love with each other. (Prinxiety, Logiciality) 

Love and Other Fairytales in which a couple decides to keep their changling and their actual son, a child is cursed gifted a voice that makes people do whatever he says, a boy makes a rotten deal for the sake of his friend, and centuries before any of this, a fae prince is tricked into an endless sleep by his brother. 

The Vampire Hunting Vampire in which Virgil was turned into a monster and LPR slowly convince him he’s not as bad as he thinks he is. Through cuddles. (LAMP, DLAMP)

Wasteland, Baby! in which there are things in the woods and Patton gets,,, intimate with them. On purpose! (LAMP)

Destined in which Damian has successfully ignored his Soulmates for five years and he planned on doing it for much longer but on his twentieth birthday fate intervenes with a second soultrait that forces him to come face to face with all of them. (DLAMP)

Old Gods in which Gods sometimes walk the earth and Remus is pleased to hear that people are still making offerings to him– wait that is not a goat. And other fun stories!

Sit back and watch the world go by in which Virgil is a human abducted by alien smugglers, befriends Patton, breaks out, and everyone fears humans as space orcs, almost as much as Virgil is afraid of them. 

Teaming the Pieces Together in which Thomas is a pokemon trainer and eevees just…click with him.

Tales from the Dark Sides in which the author provides a lovely hub of works where Virgil is abused by OC dark sides and DLMPR are there to help patch him up.

Uncle Emile and the Super Nephews in which Emile gets custody of his six nephews and tries to bond with them. They in turn try very hard not to tell him they have superpowers.

Cuffed Universe in which Remus is a cop chasing after a hacker, Logan breaks the laws and Virgil would just like tO KEEP ONE JOB WITHOUT ONE OR BOTH OF THE OTHERS DRAGGING HIM INTO THEIR SHIT. (Analomus)

Ongoing Fics

The Origin in which space travel via Thomas Sanders’s ship SS Revelation gets more complicated when the Planets themselves turn out to be entities who aren’t all on board with humanity spreading to the rest of the solar system. (Remile) 

Delicato in which Logan and Patton are music professors with very different conceptions of music, and Virgil and Roman are students in both their classes who just want them to kiss already. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

Coming out of The Shadows in which a small mutant child Virgil is treated as subhuman because of his uncontrolled ability to manipulate shadows up until a scientist buys him. (Royality)

Falling Stars At My Command in which Roman wishes on a star and Patton reaps the benefits while Logan unfortunately gets dragged along for the ride. (Royality) 

Sugar in which Patton has three sons and no free time to bother with a relationship while he’s trying to manage bills. At least until Roman walks into his life. Sugar Daddy anyone? (Royality) 

A Man, a Snake, and a Rat in which Logan, Deceit, and Remus become college roomates (Intruloceit) 

a.s.h.es, ashes (We all fall down) in which after Logan almost dies during one of his recuse missions, him and his partner start to dig into the superhero agency they’re employed by and stumble into something far bigger than they expected. (Logicality, Prinxiety, LAMP? LAMP)

Keep him safe in which Detective Logan falls for the owner of his new favorite bakery while his partner Roman falls for the gang member they’re chasing. Ft: emotions, a pet rat, dealing with delusions 101, trauma, and family so gooey it literally makes me melt whenever it updates. I love this fic so much. (Advertises as Logicality and Prinxiety but theres so much LAMP I can’t not put it down here)

Multitudes in which Virgil works at a coffeeshop, pines over the customers that come in, and wonders why they all tip him so well. (LAMP)

Songbird in which the only thing keeping Virgil’s parents alive is his voice: the moment the (new) King gets tired of listening to him its off with all their heads. And Virgil’s okay with that, he is…. Until three visiting nobles leaving him wishing for his freedom for the first time since he was ten. (LAMP)

Shatter in which Logan gets fed up with not being listened to, and takes some poor advice from Rage, which ends with the entire Mindscape being turned upside down and inside out. Now its up to Deceit fix it all. (aka the author decided it was about high time Deceit got some love and appreciation and I’m out here living for it.) (DAMP)

Incredible Cosmic Power in which Virgil awakens some genies by accident and they refuse to let him go back to living a relatively normal peaceful life. (DLAMP)

Plea for my New Self in which Vampire Virgil decides he wants to start over again, and goes back to college to work on coding. There he proceeds to do reckless good with his absurd amount of wealth and a “fuck it” attitude. Actually one of my favorite things ever okay. I love this one so much. (DLAMP)

Your Wish Is My Command in which Thomas accidentally rubs six lamps and becomes the glorified babysitter to six jinn who definitely don’t trust him. But its fineeee. (DLAMP)

6 Dads in which Deceit, Emile, Remus, Roman, Thomas, and Remy make a relationship work and their children aren’t sure how but go along with it anyway.

Rebel Rebel in which Thomas, a well respected man, visits the Imagination, for some pleasure business as a one time thing. Except that he keeps coming back. Maybe maybe falls in love with one, two, thr– all of the men who work there. 

A New Kind of Experiment  in which Virgil runs away from home, and ends up kidnapped by merman, and somehow he doesn’t mind that much.

Becoming His Own Hero in which everyone has to juggle their superhero lives with their regular lives and sometimes…its just hard.

don’t wanna be a tragedy in which brothers Roman and Remus get a house and subsequently find out its totally, completely, 100% haunted.

Don’t You, Forget About Me in which the author recreates Breakfast club and does it spectacularly.

Heart’s Heroes in which Patton may be a villain but that does not mean he wants to see the child heroes of the city dead.

Mortals and Fae in which Deceit barely escapes the wrath of his town when they all turn against him. Dying, he stumbles into a fairy circle hoping that with his name the fae make his death short and sweet. Big Shock for him when he wakes up with a Fairy Prince swearing to protect him.

Sanders Family in which Thomas adopts six kids and has no regrets about it.

How Not to Go About an Important Inspection in which after a devastating betrayal the crew of the USS Bifrost is docked for repairs and the crew just wants to go back to being a normal family but Command is insisting on an inspection to ensure nothing so…drastic occurs again.

Symbiotic in which certain Vampires have a vemon that leaves with victims craving getting their blood drunken. Deceit, one of these Victims, continues to burn bridges because that’s easier than admitting he might need help dealing with this. 

[zombizombi]

hummingbird heartbeat - pt45

It was difficult to take Kent’s -- and Jeff’s, and Jack’s -- advice. Not that they were wrong, because Bitty knew they weren’t. It was just… not his nature, he supposed, to step back like that.

It did seem to work, though. At least a little. Whiskey wasn’t overtly avoiding him any more in the dining hall, at least.

“So!” Bitty said, catching him at breakfast one day, “Your parents are coming up from Arizona!” 

Whiskey gave him a blank stare.

“I know they couldn’t make it to the family weekend game last year,” Bitty continued. “So you gotta be excited!”

“Yeah,” Whiskey said. “It’ll be fun.”

Bitty laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah! And, um. You’re starting and all, so they must be so… excited!” He already said excited. Fuck. 

“Yeah.” Whiskey glanced back down at the toaster.

“Whiskey,” Bitty said, “I just wanted to say, y’know, if you ever --”

The bread popped up and Whiskey coughed, snatching it out of the toaster before making his excuses and leaving Bitty to toast his bagel alone.

“I am giving him space,” Bitty said that night, as Kent stripped in his bedroom after repeating his previous advice.

“I dunno, babe,” Kent said as he set his clothes off to the side in a carefully folded pile. “Are you giving him, like. Your version of space or his version of space?”

“Lord, honey, I don’t know,” said Bitty, “how should I know?” How did you know what someone’s version of ‘space’ was? “But it’s not like I can completely avoid him. I’m his captain. We have to interact! So how do I tell him, like. ‘It’s cool, I didn’t see anything’?”

“You mean like how d’you lie to him?” Kent asked, climbing into bed. He’d come by, just for one night, in between games on an East Coast roadie. It was out of the way, and Bitty felt… a bit bad about it, to be honest, but any excuse to have Kent in his bed was worth taking. Kent wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, anyway.

“It’s not, like, lying,” Bitty said. “I mean, what if he wants to talk about it, and doesn’t think he can? Or --”

“If you say you didn’t see anything, then he’ll know you did see something,” Kent said, wiggling under the covers, “because if you didn’t see anything then you wouldn’t have any reason to say you didn’t see anything, so that means you totally saw something. Right?”

“Oh my god,” said Bitty. “Who are you, Joe Hardy?”

“Please, I’d obviously be Frank and you know it.” Kent stretched, bringing one arm up to rest behind his head.

“But Joe was the blond one,” Bitty said.

“Frank was the hot one,” Kent countered.

Was he? “But --”

“Okay, Carolyn Keene, thrilling as this is,” Kent interrupted.

“Carolyn Keene did not write the Hardy Boys,” Bitty said. 

Ignoring him, Kent continued. “We kind of need to talk about your dad before we go to sleep, so --”

“What?” Bitty swallowed. “No, why -- we weren’t talking about him.” They had avoided talking about Coach the entire visit. Well, mostly. Bitty took a breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey, I --”

“He’s coming tomorrow, isn’t he?” Kent asked. He had to leave first thing in the morning to catch a flight, wouldn’t be there. “To your game. And you haven’t seen him since what... March, right?”

March. Before everything, before The Kiss. Not that anyone in his family said a word to him about it.

Ugh. “You’ll be long gone before then, so what’s there to talk about?” Bitty snapped, hunching his shoulders. 

“Um,” Kent said.

“There would only be something to talk about if Coach was gonna see you,” said Bitty. “And he’s not. So.”

Kent nodded, looking down at the sheets. He picked at a loose thread, not speaking.

“I’m not being avoidant,” Bitty said, and Kent eyes flicked back up to him for just a moment. “I’m not. And it’s not that I don’t want you to see him, either. He’s just coming to watch us play. Who cares.” 

Kent worried the skin of his lower lip with his teeth for a moment. “I just think, um. It would be normal to have some… feelings about it?” He glanced back up at Bitty.

Bitty sighed. “Okay, yes,” he said. “Fine. I haven’t seen him in a while, but. I’ll see him before the game, and we’ll get a tense and stoic dinner afterwards. It’s fine.”

Kent’s arm slid around him. Gently pressing a kiss into his hair, Kent pulled Bitty down and tugged him close. “Okay,” he murmured. 

“Kent Parson, go to sleep and stop tormenting me with your sleuthing.” Bitty wound Kent’s chain around his finger, rubbing the Saint Michael pendant with his thumb. “You’re getting up so early.”

“Mmm.” Kent nuzzled the back of Bitty’s neck. “All right. G’night, I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Bitty said.

The following day was a blur. Kent left before the crack of dawn, barely waking Bitty to say goodbye. Bitty couldn’t pay attention in any of his classes; between the half-sleep he’d gotten once Kent left and the anxiety of the upcoming game, he wasn’t particularly well-rested. As a group of them walked back to the Haus that afternoon, Bitty contemplated how much time he had to nap before the game as they chattered about the weekend.

“Hops, I can’t wait to try your mom’s baking!” Ford grinned. 

“She watched all of Bitty’s vlog in preparation for the game,” Hops said. He turned to face them, walking backwards up the sidewalk. “Seriously, Bitty, she’s gonna freak when she meets you.”

So sweet. “Then I will surely freak out in return when I meet the beautiful woman who birthed John Hopper,” Bitty said, sliding his key into the Haus’s front door lock. She had to be an angel, raising such a gem of a son.

“I’m texting her you said that!” Hops said, heading into the Haus first.

Bitty followed him in, completely unprepared for the voice that called to them from the kitchen. “Hey! Y’all back?”

Bitty sucked in a quick breath. That sounded like -- but it wasn’t time yet. Surely not. He tugged his ball cap off, following the voice.

“There you are!” Coach pushed away from the counter, smiling. “Got in early,” he said. “That Asian boy let me in -- Chow.”

“Oh,” Bitty said, lowering his cap. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Texted you -- after checking into the hotel, no answer… And I thought it was silly to just sit around,” Coach said. “You know, your mom said this wasn’t like any of the frat houses I’ve seen, and boy, she ain’t wrong.” 

Fuck, Bitty had missed a text. A very crucial, informative text. The one time he wasn’t obsessively checking his phone -- he took a deep breath.

Plucking at the curtain over the sink, Coach squinted at it. “Aren’t these your aunt’s curtains?”

“They are,” Bitty said, because what else could he say? “She was fixing to throw ’em out.”

Coach blinked at him for a moment, and Bitty’s shoulders tightened.

“Um,” Bitty said. “Coach -- Dad. This is John, he’s a freshman, and Denice, she’s our manager. Y’all, this is my dad.”

Coach stepped forward, holding out a hand. “You can call me Coach!”

“Hi, Coach Bittle!” said Ford, shaking his hand.

“Wow, hi!” said Hops. “You look just like Bitty.”

Did he? Bitty frowned.

“You’re a football coach? My brothers play football!” Ford grinned as Coach smiled at her.

“Oh, hey! Whereabouts?” he asked.

“They’re only juniors in high school… But we currently live in San Diego,” she said.

“Okay!” Coach said. He frowned a little. “Hm, now -- football and California. Then how in the world did someone like you get roped into hockey?”

Ford laughed. “I --” 

“Dad,” Bitty said, interrupting them. “Some of the guys are gonna take naps before we head to Faber…”

“Oh, all right,” said Coach, waving a hand. “Just getting to know the team. It’s a pleasure to meet y’all.”

“Nice to meet you, Coach Bittle,” said Hops.

“Nice to meet you, Coach Bittle!” Ford smiled.

Coach cleared his throat and followed Bitty out of the kitchen to the entryway. “Well! I’m glad I could stop by before your warmups,” he said. “If any of your crew want to come with tonight -- there’s a little restaurant downtown where we can watch your friend Kent’s game.” Coach was smiling, but Bitty hadn’t missed what he said.

Your friend. As if that was all Kent was to him. Bitty narrowed his eyes. 

“See you, Junior,” Coach said, a moment later.

“Bye, Daddy,” Bitty said.

Before anyone had an opportunity to ask any questions, Bitty went upstairs to his room, tugging the door shut behind him. Leaning against it, he shut his eyes for a moment. 

Family day was going to be fine. 

The afternoon game started off a little chippy and stayed that way, with both teams taking penalty minutes and Dartmouth scoring on their first powerplay. Everyone on the bench chattered about the members of their family in attendance -- Tango’s mom had quite a mouth on her, if Bitty did say so himself. He tried not to think about Coach in the stands.

It had been a long time since Bitty really felt paralyzed by a check. He shouldn’t have even fallen after the hit, it was barely anything, but -- but he did, legs shaky and everything, ending up with both hands planted on the ice. Bitty took a breath. Fuck, he had to get up.

“Bitty, man!” That was Dex. 

Bitty took another breath.

“Hey.” That was Whiskey. “Can you get up?”

Bitty took a breath again.

They lost the game.

Coach asked Bitty, after catching up with him -- and his coaches, and his teammates -- in the dressing room, if he was ready to go watch “his friend Kent’s” game.

“Yeah,” Bitty said.

Coach drove them to the restaurant in a rented truck, going over points of Bitty’s game and occasionally talking about Kent’s upcoming game.

Or rather, Bitty’s friend Kent. Coach made sure to put friend in front of Kent’s name.

He just kept saying it like that, every time -- “your friend Kent.” 

At the restaurant. During the game. In the car to go back. He never called Kent anything but Bitty’s friend, not once.

As they got into the car to head back to the Haus, Bitty couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, your mama and I’ve been talking about this winter break… your friend Kent --”

“He’s not my friend,” Bitty said, trying to keep his voice even.

Coach sighed. “Come on,” he said. “You’re getting snippy because you’re --”

Getting snippy? Getting snippy? Really?

“If you don’t like us together, then just say it,” Bitty snapped, losing any semblance of control over his tone, “but he’s my boyfriend! If you don’t support it, then just say it!”

“W -- so I fly all the way up here to watch you play because I don’t support you?” Coach huffed. “Where’s the sense in that?”

Because flying up to watch your son’s game was totally the same as supporting his being gay. Absolutely the same. “Watching me play a sport and admitting I’m dating Kent are two different things,” Bitty said. He crossed his arms over his chest, pulling them in tight.

“I know you’re with him,” said Coach. “I’m trying not to make it a big deal.”

Not to make it a big deal? It was a huge deal. They were -- not the point, that wasn’t the point. “Then stop pretending that he’s not my boyfriend!”

“I never said he wasn’t --”

Oh, lord. As if just calling him Bitty’s friend constantly wasn’t basically the same thing? “You haven’t once acknowledged --”

“You want me to treat it like it’s normal, then?” 

Bitty sucked in a sharp breath. The memory of Kent’s mother shoving a pamphlet for conversion therapy across the table sprang into his mind, unbidden, and something in his stomach dropped.

“Or what,” Coach went on, “you want me hollering and marching in a damn parade and getting all the rainbows --”

“Just treat it like it’s something that exists --” Bitty interrupted, but he didn’t get to finish, either.

“How? You didn’t tell us!” Coach snapped. “We had to find out from the TV --”

“Because -- I just want --” Bitty swallowed. This is why I didn’t tell you. “I want you to say there’s nothing wrong with it!”

Coach sighed, pressed a hand to his forehead. “I don’t know what to do with you.”

Christ. 

He’d known it would be like this. Bitty had always known that, even before those kids at school locked him into that closet. If Coach wanted to pretend he hadn’t known Bitty was gay for a long time, that was fine, but Bitty knew better. They’d known forever, his parents. They’d always known. Nobody ever talked about it, nobody said anything except the stuff Bitty heard in church, but he wasn’t stupid. Coach knew Bitty was different a long time ago, knew he wasn’t the kind of boy strong men wanted to have as a son.

“I want you to tell me I’m not messed up!” Bitty’s eyes burned. Weak. “Please,” he said, bringing a hand up to cover his face as the tears spilled over. “J-just tell me you don’t think I’m messed up. I know you’ve always thought I was.” Bitty sniffed a little, but it was fucking useless. He was turning into a sobbing mess in front of his daddy and there was nothing he could do about it. He sucked in a hitching breath, scrubbed at his face with one arm. “Because I didn’t wanna play football and all the baking and the girly stuff. Please, just tell me that you -- that it’s okay. You don’t think I’m messed up.”

“You’ve never been messed up,” said Coach, and his voice was maybe softer than Bitty could remember ever hearing it. “I never thought that.” His hand descended on Bitty’s shoulder. “And you and Kent being together… that don’t make you messed up.” He paused. “You know that.”

Bitty knew that? How could -- how could he sit there and say that? They never talked. Not ever, not Bitty’s whole life, and he just -- “Daddy… how am I supposed to know what you think?” Bitty asked, not looking at him.

After a moment, Coach pulled his hand away. “I’ll take you back to the Haus,” he said.

( the whole thing is on AO3 )

[my-emotional-self]

Training Session (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (Unprotected Sex)

Request:  Could I ask for a Steve x female reader smut?  Where Steve and reader are training and he ends up pinning her (like he does Bucky in TWS in that scene on the helicarrier.) could you, if it works with the prompt, both like each other but it shows up as some sort of animosity so the team makes them train with a locked-from-the-outside training room? Thanks!!

                 I was wondering if you could do a smut with Steve Rogers.  Working out in the gym, and things get heated? If you could do that I would be very happy.  Thank you!

Requested By: @1eveningstar1 and @wildefire

A/N: I put two requests together seeing as they were pretty similar!  I hope you guys enjoy!

“When’s the last time you trained Y/N?  You used to top Nat in the training room.  Now it’s the other way around” Steve asked taking a large gulp of water; his face drenched in sweat from working out.  

You snapped back rather quickly, “What’s that supposed to mean Rogers?”

Steve gave you a wink which nobody noticed as he headed out of the training room, leaving you there with the other Avengers.  

It was like that day in and day out.  You and Steve bickering back and forth; it was the way you two flirted with one another and you thrived off it.  From the outside, it looked like the two of you had a lot of animosity towards each other, but that was not the case at all.  Steve knew you, deep down, and he knew you weren’t the lovey dovey, holding hands kind of person.  No, you liked to bicker and he loved to give it right back.  It was just the way you two were.

Glancing around the training room, you saw Tony, Natasha, and Sam staring at you with wide eyes.  “What?” you asked before storming out of the training center and up to your room.  

~~~

“We have to do something about them” Tony pressed; his lips forming a tight line as he watched you storm out of the room.  

Sam huffed out as he hung his head.  “I know. Those two have been going at it from day one.  I figured they would get along but I was wrong.  They seem so hostile towards each other.”

Tony pointed his finger in the air as he looked around the room.  “I’m a genius!” he exclaimed before quietly mumbling to himself, pacing back and forth; Sam and Natasha exchanging equal eye rolls.  “You guys know that new training room we are putting together? The one that locks from the outside so whoever is inside is stuck?  Yeah…yep…I’ve got an idea!”

~~~

The next morning you awoke startled, F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice coming through the speaker in your bedroom. “Miss Y/L/N, sorry to wake you but Mr. Stark has requested you join him in the new training facility as soon as possible.”

Rolling back over in bed, you groaned out into your pillow, “why me!!”  With a sigh of frustration, you took a fast shower before throwing on some workout shorts, a sports bra and a tank top before heading down to the newest training room.  

The doors opened on their own for you from facial recognition.  Crossing your arms, you walked in with a scowl, looking around for Tony.  You didn’t see him, but you had to admit, the new training room looked mighty fine.  It had state of the art weight machines, treadmills, an entire wall of mirrors, and really comfortable floor mats.  You heard the door open and you turned to see who it was.  

“Captain” you said with a smirk on your face; your muscles relaxing at the sight of him.  He was wearing his workout pants along with a tight fitting t-shirt.  Your heart started to skip as your mind became fuzzy with arousal just from the sight of Steve.  A loud click startled you as you looked towards the door.  

“Now that I have your attention,” Tony’s voice came over the intercom, “you two need to learn how to play nice.  So for today, you two will be training in the new facility.  Don’t even think about trying to escape because it won’t happen. It’s locked from the outside.  I haven’t set up the cameras quite yet but I trust you two will work out your problems.  I will be back to check on you in a few hours.”

Turning to face Steve, you quirked your eyebrow as you gave him a grin.  “They think we don’t play nice together” you spoke sarcastically.  

Steve shrugged back at you, his biceps threatening to tear through his thin t-shirt.  Even though it was evident between both of you; the two of you neither did anything more than flirt.  It took every muscle in your body to not jump Steve right here and now.  

“Well, lets get to it” Steve urged, interrupting your thoughts as he smacked his hands together.

~~~

The next hour you two sparred and it was a pretty even match.  His brute strength mixed with your fast reflexes, you almost had him pinned a few times.  

“Shit” you cussed out as he flipped you over and onto your back, landing with a thud and nearly knocking the wind out of you.  

“Gotta be faster than that doll” Steve chimed as a smirk graced his perfectly lined face.  

Jumping back to your feet quickly, you pounced onto his back, latching on for dear life.  Your feet secured themselves around his waist while you tried your best to choke hold him.  “What now Captain Rogers?” you rasped into his ear before giving his earlobe a quick lick.  

His strong arms pried your legs from his waist causing you to loosen your grip around his neck. Before you knew it, he had twisted the two of you around and you were slammed hard onto the ground; except this time Steve was on his back, and your back was pinned to him.  He had his legs twisted around yours, holding you down as he had his own choke hold against you.  

Your breathing quickened as you started to panic.  In this position, you felt his growing erection press into your back as you let out a soft moan.  Steve’s arms loosened around your neck; his cock twitching underneath you.  

Scrambling out of his grasp, you fell from his grip and onto the floor; turning to face him.  His face was red from exertion, as you felt heat creep to your face.  His chest was heaving along with yours as you both continued to stare at one another.  

It only took a moment before you felt Steve’s lips on yours in a blissful kiss.  His lips were warm and chapped just how you had always imagined. Your body ignited into flames as his lips departed from yours and trailed along your cheeks, towards your jaw. You clit ached to be touched by Steve; sick of finding your own release night after night as you thought about him touching you.  

Desire tore through you as you flipped Steve over, straddling his chest.  Crashing your lips to his again, you took the lead and parted your lips, trailing your tongue around his lower lip begging for entrance. He got the hint rather quickly and parted his own lips; your tongues dancing together in sweet harmony.  Arousal pooled at your core making you grind down on him, wanting to feeling every inch he had.  

Steve’s hands tangled into your hair, pulling your ponytail loose before gripping it behind you, pulling you from his lips.  His lust blown eyes bore into yours as you felt frantic; your hips gyrating onto his member.  His eyes clenched shut as you continued to swivel your hips on top of him, breathy moans leaving your mouth.  

As the battle for dominance continued, Steve flipped the two of you back over; his arms forcefully ripping your tank top and shorts from your body.  As his hands went to your sports bra, you stopped him.  “I don’t fucking think so Rogers.  Lose your clothes first.”

He gave you a sinful smirk as he tore his shirt over his head; his pants soon leaving his toned legs leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs.  “Much better” you cooed as you tugged onto his neck, bringing his lips back to yours; flipping him back over and straddling him in the process.  

As your tongues continued to tango, Steve’s hands trailed lightly down your spine making you shudder under his touch.  His hands gripped your ass causing you to moan breathily into his mouth.  “I need you Steve” you pleaded.  

Steve’s eyes darkened even more at your words, gently cupping your sex as you cried out his name. His fingers found their way inside your panties as they traced along your wet folds; your legs shaking beneath you as you tried to hold yourself up.  Steve felt you shake from above as he flipped you back underneath him with his.

This time, he removed your panties fully before his fingers found your clit, your breath hitching in your throat at the feel of him finally touching you where you needed him.  “Fuck Steve” you purred as his magical fingers pleased you to no end.  His thumb continued its sweet assault on your clit as he plunged a lengthy digit into your dripping core.  Steve curled his finger inside you, pumping in and out and you soon found yourself on the edge of your release.  As he entered another finger, you fell from the edge, hurtling towards a mind blowing orgasm.  Your vision blackened as you screamed his name over and over while Steve whispered sweet nothings into your ear.  

When your vision came to, you saw Steve sucking off his fingers; the same fingers that were just inside your pussy.  You felt a hunger, a need you had never felt before as you lurched forward, pinning Steve to the floor mats.  

Your mouth assaulted his neck as you suckled and nibbled; thriving off the noises he was making. As your mouth worked his neck, your hands quickly removed his boxers.  Your hands found his velvet smooth shaft and pumped him a few times; your thumb swirling around his pre-cum.  

“I need you inside me. Now!” Steve demanded, and you knew immediately that it wasn’t a request, it was an order; a Captain’s order.  With a grin, you teased your folds with his tip a few times before sinking down onto him.  

Steve’s hands were firmly gripping your hips as he became sheathed inside you.  You had never felt full like this before and you needed to give yourself time to adjust to his size.  Looking down, you saw Steve lustfully gazing up and down your naked body; his lip trapped between his teeth.  

You started to move your hips in a circular motion, feeling Steve deep inside you and hitting spots you never knew existed from deep within.  Teasing him enough, you started to lift your hips before slamming back down; the soft floor mats making it easy on your knees.  Your hands were splayed out on his chest as you used him to push yourself up, then back down; your eyes always locked tightly with Steve’s.

You leaned back a bit as you continued to ride Steve; the new angle hitting your g-spot perfectly. “Oh fuck Steve!” you screamed as you felt your second orgasm building.  Your legs began to quiver as your breathing quickened.  Steve’s grip tightened as he held you up; his hips jerking into you from below as your orgasm ripped through you.  

As your walls tightened spasms around Steve, you felt him still; his warm seed shooting into you as your name fell from his lips.  Collapsing onto his chest, he held you tightly as you both came down from your highs.

Your body shook as Steve’s chest rumbled with laughter.  “Do you think they will finally get the hint that we don’t hate each other?”

Giggling back, you got up from his chest.  “Maybe round two will do justice.”

Steve’s eyes became hooded as he flipped you over again as you squealed in delight.    

Tag List: @princess-evans-addict @iamwarrenspeace @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @potterhead1265 @castellandiangelo @miss-cap21 @missfirstavenger @remember-that-one-blog @-fuck-you-world- @srgntjbarnes @thesilentsirenofwilmington @pumbibaby @zohoffman @wildestdreamsrps @kanupps06 @geeksareunique @libbitinasdeath @katiew1973

[xfanfics]

Destiel Fic Rec List Part 6

Last Updated in October 2014. Posted in May 2020 for posterity.  Listed in no particular order - the total rec list will have ~250 fics. Header graphic used with permission.

This part of the list contains: 38 fics.

Other Destiel Rec Lists: [1]. [2]. [3]. [4]. [5]. [6]. [7].

Hunting for Faith ❤ by riseofthefallenone E | 270k | AU, reverse!verse, priest cas, angel dean

It starts a few days earlier. Castiel first notices it in the middle of the night when the dreams of fire and screams have kept him awake. He’s kneeling before the altar, praying, when the glass in the windows start to shake, the very air vibrating around him. Castiel is on his feet and reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his pants as the shutters over the windows start to rattle.

Angel!dean will always have a special place in my heart, and as always, I love riseofthefallenone's characterization and writing. Complete with lovely art by pappcave.    

Sporty High School AU by triedunture E | 18k | Hot,  Fluff,  High School AU

Cas is on the high school swim team and Dean Winchester is the super-attractive, too-cool-for-him lacrosse player. They're both practicing late one cold autumn night, and Dean succumbs to exhaustion. It's up to Cas to help him.

Real Slick Dean by trilliath E | 28k | Hot,  AU, a/b/o, fuck or die

There's a new alpha enhancer drug "Rutter" on the streets that gets used at "exclusive parties" for the worst purposes. Detective Castiel Novak and his partner Balthazar work hard to put a stop to it and other sex crimes in their work as Special Victim's top detectives. Ellen Harvelle's Roadhouse is both a bar and a refuge for unmated Omegas. The Roadhouse gives Omegas the opportunity have their heats in peace and, if they so desire, even sell an 'exclusive supply of high-grade slick for the unmated Alpha on the go!'. Castiel is just such an Alpha, career oriented and having no time for casual sex or potential mates. He's a regular customer who only buys donor D347's slick. He's also a family friend and advocate who helps Omegas in need get connected with Ellen. It's all fine until one night after a difficult bust he brings Ellen a new Omega about to have her first heat. What Alpha Castiel doesn't realize is that he's been over-dosed with Rutter during the fight and is about to go into a rut so bad he may die. And if that weren't enough to kill him, the embarrassment he's about to feel will, because he's about to meet donor D347 face to face and neither of them are prepared for what's going to happen.

friendzone by kaiifayce M | 7k

“A date?! Like, with a real, breathing human being?” Dean sputters as wipes his mouth with his sleeve. Cas frowns, eyebrows knitting and his head cocking to the side slightly in his typical manner. “No, Dean, with one of the dissection frogs in the Biology lab,” he deadpans.

The Sentinel Crossover 'Verse by melonbutterfly E | 13k | Hot,  AU, Sentinel/Guide Bonding

Wherein Castiel is a Guide and Dean is a Sentinel.

Dean Doesn't Listen to Eurythmics by Scaramouche E | 2k | Canon!Verse, First Time

Dean and Castiel share a bed. It starts out platonic, and then becomes something else.

Stitches by askance T | 23k | post s7, h/c, Fluff,

Castiel survived Leviathan--but only barely. Vessel mauled and eyes destroyed, Cas is barely clinging to what's left of his grace when Dean finds him naked and alone on the reservoir's edge; in a panic, Dean brings him home to the cabin where he and Sam have been holed up off the grid. What follows is the slow process of the angel's recovery and the unexpected changes that come with his being blind, and in the three months this takes, their little family slowly begins to patch itself back together in forgiveness, love, and darkness.

The Feline Perspective of a Guilty Conscience by almaasi E | 51k | Fluff,  Canon!verse, post s8, cat dean

A few days ago, the angels were cast out of Heaven. Castiel believes it’s all his fault, and now he’s almost out of power, too. But that’s unimportant - Sam is dying, and Dean needs Cas to fix him before it’s too late. Cas’ selfless last efforts to save Sam backfire in the most unexpected way: Dean transforms into a cat. It seems like he’ll be stuck like that, and all Castiel can do is blame himself. The days pass without any clues on how to fix their predicament, and when Sam starts getting sick again, with Dean out for the count, Castiel realises that he’s the only one who can save Sam.

Foxfire Blossom ❤ by almaasi E | 283k | AU, infidelity,Hot,  Angst,  Fluff,

On a narrow lane, right at the edge of San Francisco city, there is a boutique flower shop with a single employee named Dean. The place is Dean’s world; it’s tiny, filled with bright colour and sensational beauty, and it’s the only sanctuary he ever finds amidst the commotion of his new life. Then, there’s Castiel. From the first time he steps into the shop, Castiel can’t help but become deeply enchanted by what’s inside. However, it’s not just the flowers that keep him coming back - with each visit he makes, he grows fonder of the bespectacled florist, learning Dean’s hands and his laughter as Dean shows him how to romance a woman. There is nothing either of them can do to keep from falling in love, despite Castiel’s path already being paved, cemented, and thoroughly set in stone: he is supposed to marry Daphne. It becomes clear that they all have their vices, addictions. Castiel has kept things from Dean... and maybe Dean has a few secrets, too. What with all the lying, cheating, and dauntless emotional vulnerability, they may as well be living in a soap opera.

First reaction: this fic is long. Make sure to space out your reading of it or you will die. I have a soft spot for cuddly/affectionate/softie!dean, and Almaasi delivers perfectly as usual. The infidelity gave me pause, as Cas is cheating on a significant other for a long period of time. I didn't like the ending very much because it seemed out of nowhere/random, but overall, I really liked it.    

This is All Life Really Means ❤  by gedry E | 90k | Fluff,  Angel/Demon AU, sam/gabriel, wing!kink, h/c

The highly arranged marriage between the angels and the demon providences requires some adjusting on the parts of their highly trained security details. Needless to say the members of said details are less than happy about their new arrangements.

Ugh how I love this fic. Gedry is my go to for long fluff, and this fic is perfect for it. Includes hate-to-love, schmoop, and *whispers* tail!kink.

Going Forward ❤ by gedry E | ? | Hot,  Fluff,  Angel AU, wing!kink, h/c

For cloudyjenn who wanted Dean with wings and Cas showing how to use them. Cas agrees to represent the angels as part of a social experiment to help them share a greater understand with the human population. He’s not prepared for who he has to live with for the next thirty days.

I LOVE gedry's AUs. This is filled with lovely wing!kink and pining. Mmmm yes.   

Play It All Night Long ❤ by janie_tangerine E | 43k  | AU

The rom-com-ish one where Dean hosts a late night radio show, Castiel is a regular listener of his who starts calling one day and ends up calling more often than not and Dean finds himself liking it. This, until one day Castiel calls for not exactly petty reasons (just before Dean’s brother Sam is visiting with his girlfriend for spring break) and things get very, very crowdy at his place. He also doesn’t know it’s just the beginning of it. Also features Gabriel, Chuck, Andy, the Roadhouse crew and a huge amount of music quoted. Especially Bob Dylan.

The one where Cas falls for Dean before they ever meet. Sweet.    

Lovingly Crafted and Tenderly Packaged ❤ by janie-tangerine E | 17k  | AU, artist!Cas

wherein Castiel owns a self-run t-shirts printing business for which he also makes custom orders, Dean orders Castiel's shirts online after Sam gets him a customized one and their romance is based on nonexistent boundaries. And where Balthazar owns the sex shop in front of Castiel's store and won't mind his own business.

Such an inventive AU. Meddling!Balthazar who runs a sex-shop and all.    

Inevitable Homoeroticism in Spanish Romantic Heroes by prosopopeya E | 41k | Teacher AU

Dean is a grad student studying for his MA in Spanish literature, and he’s pretty content with his sexuality as it is -- that is, fairly undefined and also secret. His attraction to Castiel, a professor to the undergrads, doesn't seem like a big deal until it becomes a very big deal, and Dean scrambles to keep his head above water.

Start Quoting Shakespere and We're Done by pyrebi T | 15k | Fluff,  AU, Sam/Gabriel

In which Dean has the hots for a librarian named Cas, Cas may or may not have the hots for a mechanic named Dean, and Gabriel joins Sam in the peanut gallery in the hopes that he might just get to do a horizontal tango of his own.

Summer Vacations Suck ❤ by ratherbehere E | 4k | Hot,  Highschool AU, underage, BDSM, sub!dean, pwp, kink

Summer vacations suck, and Cas seems bent on making it awkward for Dean.

This is one of my go to pwp reads. It's just hot okay.    

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster E | 94k | AU, writer cas, stripper dean, agoraphobia

Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?

The Story of You and Me by the_digglerv E | 51k | Fluff,  Post s8, Amnesia

Dean wakes up in bed next to a very human Castiel, and a journal in his own handwriting that tells him it’s two years in the future. The house looks a lot like Bobby’s, and Sam lives there too… He just can’t remember how they got from angels falling in the sky – to comfortable domesticity. While there is much in the journal Dean doesn’t remember, there is much of their story he’s always known. And as he settles into the routine of his new life and relationship with Castiel, it quickly becomes something he doesn’t know how to live without.

Dean Winchester, Straight Shooter ❤ by triedunture E | 15k | Hot,  Pornstar AU

Dean Winchester, star of StraightShooter.com, is a gay-for-pay porn star with a huge following. Cas Novak signs on to do a scene with him, even though he dislikes "straight" porn stars on principle. But Dean is more complicated than he first appears, and after inadvertently learning his secrets, Cas finds himself falling for him.

Ugh yes pornstar!AUs. This one is especially...good.    

Peanut Butter-Pumpkin Wedding Cake by sparseparsley E | 30k | Hot,  AU

Dean is a waiter in a strip club to put his kid brother through school. Castiel is dragged to the club as a part of his sister Anna's bachelorette party. Dean and Cas hit it off, but Dean thinks Cas is the one marrying Anna.

Easy Now, With My Heart ❤ by mcpadalackles E | 49k | Hot,  Teacher AU, Writer Cas

Dean Winchester is a kindergarten teacher. Castiel Milton is a writer slash works-in-a-coffee-shop. He also happens to be the extremely hot one-night stand that Dean never intended to see again other than in his own fantasies (he’s classy like that). But suddenly Cas is everywhere and Dean is convinced that Fate is out to get him. And maybe they do this thing backwards, but that doesn’t have to mean they can’t make it in the end, right?

I love how Dean and Cas decide to take it slow after they've already had sex. Lots of UST.    

Don't Walk On By by Virtualpersonal & Brimstonegoldv E | 60k | Pretty Woman AU, Wing!kink, escort dean,

Dean works several jobs in order to pay for medical care for Sam who has been severely injured. The day he meets Castiel, Dean's luck changes, though it is debatable whether it is for the better or for the worse. Castiel is an angel who has been cut-off from heaven to live with Man for a hundred years. Trying to right a wrong, he accidentally hires Dean as his rent-a-boy and learns a thing or two about being human.

What Falls For Love by bravest E | 51k | AU, reverse!verse

An angel of the lord going by the human name of Dean is told to make contact with his current charge, Castiel, on Heaven's list of prophets-to-be. Castiel is swept up in a war waged by angels and demons, and both the angel playing human and the human playing prophet learn things are never as simple as they seem.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by Askance T | 31k | Angst,  Horror

Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh. But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Roots by AnythingToasted E | 38k | Angst,  Fluff,

After the apocalypse, Dean, Sam and Castiel settle into a gentler life, and Dean starts to make peace with the things that plagued him before 2009. Tentatively, carefully, he starts getting better. But something lives in the woods, in the house; something calls to him in his dreams that crosses the lines between waking and sleep. Whilst trying to reconcile himself with himself, Dean finds himself wondering if the things he’s managed to build are really slipping away, or if the whole thing is just in his head.

Get Inside My Soul by angelivenantium M | 84k | Angst,  Fluff,  Highschool AU, Hipster Cas

There’s something about Castiel that just makes Dean want him. Well, not even want; he needs to have him. He’s not sure if it’s the weird, often oversized sweaters or his thin wrists or that black, messy hair that make him tick, but he’s pretty sure the main thing is his eyes, that, unfortunately, never look at him twice. And Dean is freaking popular, everybody looks at him twice. Dean transferred to this school three years ago and is now a senior, and he’s been secretly ogling Castiel ever since. This distant yearning might have worked in the past years, but now it was just four months until he would graduate and leave this school forever, so he had woken up this morning and decided that fuck it, he wasn’t some 12-yearold girl; if he wanted something he would make sure he got it, even if that something was a rude hipster kid who didn't even notice his existence. End of story.

Let Your Grace Guide You by angel_kink E | 24k | post s5, wing!kink

After Castiel heals Dean at Stull, the hunter finds himself with unexpected abilities. He becomes determined to use his newfound powers, with Castiel’s guidance, to rescue Sam from the cage. In order to ensure that their venture to Hell is successful, they are forced to team up with Crowley, who has his own agenda regarding what’s locked up in the pits of Hell. During the course of their alliance, secrets come out, feelings bubble to the surface, and Dean finds himself once again facing an impossibly dangerous situation in an effort to save his brother.

Player 2 is Ready by AlreadyPainfullyGone E | 25k | Hot,  Highschool AU, Underage, BDSM

AU in which Dean and Cas meet in an online, multiplayer game. Both of them are hiding who they really are - Castiel, ashamed of being so small and yet still a dominant, and Dean, who always gets taken for a top, but who is actually submissive. Little do they know, they live in the same town, they're just at different schools.

Come Carpe Diem, Baby by a_carnal_mink E | 9k | canon!verse, wing!kink, Hot,  

"I am the only being in all Creation who has cradled your soul in my hands. I know you. I know you are complete. Because I know you completely.

300 Things ❤ by cautionzombies E | 76k | College AU

Dean's life at twenty-four makes him feel like he's forty—he works two jobs to help pay bills for his house and put his genius little brother through private school, and has spent six years (on and off, let's be honest) working on his mechanical engineering degree at KU. With so much of his life devoted to his family, Dean has little time in his schedule for class and no time for social interaction. Then, while getting his classes together for the fall, he finds himself in a do-or-die situation: He must take his last literature class now, his spring already filled with those left for his major...except that none of the English classes will fit his schedule. This is how Dean grovels and begs Dr. Castiel Milton to make a special arrangement for him, and Dr. Milton does.

YES. I love their relationship dynamic in this, and it's actually quite relatable and personal for me. Sam is fab.    

The Prank that Filled the Spank Bank ❤ by BookkBaby E | 41k | Hot,  AU, First Time

It starts with a prank war and a chance meeting at the auto shop Dean works at. (Based off of Almaasi's prompt: Castiel records audio pornography. Not professionally, or anything - he writes it and then reads it out, and uploads it free to the world. It’s not Dean’s usual type of porn - at all - but there’s something about Castiel’s gravelly, yet somehow smooth and beautiful voice that keeps him hooked.)

Another Classic. Dean masturbates to Cas's voice, and then when he actually runs into him...well.    

PWP: Pie Without Plot by MajorEnglishEsquire & orange_crushed E | 79k | Post s8, Fluff,

He is in the kitchen with flour on his hands and an apron and there is flour on his forehead and cas leans across the counter and wipes it off with his thumb and dean says "thank you" and cas says "you’re welcome" very seriously and later dean makes apple turnovers and he only ruins them a little and sam realizes it’s not a real hunt like four days into it and he lets dean stay undercover for like a week and a half or longer maybe way longer because he is such a good everything

White Winter Hymnal ❤ by newbluemoon E | 24k | Coffee Shop AU

Christmas AU fic. Writer!Dean walks into a café late at night on Christmas Eve, looking for inspiration for his next novel. Instead he finds librarian!Cas.

I love how evocative this fic is, especially Dean's inner dialogue.    

Waves by wormstaches M | 54k | Angst, College AU, h/c, Hipster Cas

Dean Winchester is the average guy: football, college, kid brother, nice car, girls and beer; his life is black and white, that is until he meets Castiel Collins: pretentious, slutty, sweater-wearing genius, who won't even take the time to look up at him from his obscure novel while he insults him. And then everything is shades of gray and Dean is drowning.

Till Human Voices Wake Us ❤ by saltandbyrne E | 20k | Hot,  AU, tentacles, bottom!dean

In a world of hippogriffs, hydras and flying pygmy elephants, intrepid explorer Dean Winchester was sure he had seen it all. When a monster destroys the only home he's ever known, Dean finds himself falling for his strange rescuer and struggling to face his past.

Tentacle!sex with feelings. My jam, basically.    

Grey ❤ by Valyria E | 65k | Angst,  Hot,  a/b/o

In a world where people don't see in color until they find their true mate, the first thing Dean sees when he pulls himself out of his grave is the blue sky. When Castiel raised him from the Pit, he inadvertently claimed Dean as his mate.

Note: cover art is my work :)

Punch Drunk Love ❤ by highermagic E | 16k | Hot, Highschool AU, Underage

Teenage Human AU. It's a classic boy-likes-straight-boy story. Or possibly boy-likes-not-so-straight-boy story. Castiel can't quite decide. It's a little confusing when your supposedly straight best friend offers to teach you how to kiss.

One of Rowan's more underrated fics. Unbelievably hot.  

[whatwouldfrogsdo]

⛄

A little fic for Day 2 of the @omgcpwinterextravaganza, the prompt being a SMH Snowman Building Competition.

AO3

Holster strode between the entries, clipboard in hand. Chowder suspected that he was only pretending to make notes, but he and Ransom had been so keen to come to Samwell and judge the Annual SMH Snowman Competition, that nobody could turn them down. Despite the fact that Bitty had looked like a shoo-in to win before they even started gathering their snow, simply for the amount of baked goods he had given them, and the announcement that he was going to attempt a Snow Tater.

Holster stopped next to Chowder’s creation. “Snow man, Chowder. What part of man don’t you understand?”

“Also, it’s totes cheating to have your girlfriend help,” Nursey added from where he was trying to patch up the hole he had accidently pushed into his snowman.

“Why would it have to be a man?” Caitlin asked. “Don’t be so sexist, Birkholtz.”

“That would be a great argument, Farms, if you weren’t there building a castle.”

“It’s not just going to be a castle,” Chowder told Holster. “Just wait until we’re done. Cait and I won the Sandcastle Competition at my local beach this summer. We have a plan. The castle is just the kingdom.”

“Well... As long as you don’t get a chisel out or anything.” Holster threw a dirty look at Dex, who scowled back from where he was sat on the porch steps, having already been disqualified.

“It wasn’t a fucking chisel. It was just my pocketknife.”

“No tools, Poindexter! You know the rules.”

“Okay, well what about the help issue? If I’m disqualified, C is definitely disqualified. Cait’s not even on the hockey team!”

“We’ll add it to the rules for next year, but unfortunately, they found a loophole because Farmer’s not on the hockey team,” Ransom explained. Chowder threw Dex a smug grin from behind Holster’s back, and held his fist out for Caitlin to bump.

*

“TIME!” Holster and Ransom shouted, in unison, an hour later.

“Everyone, step away from your snow people. Oliver Lucas O’Meara, stop that.”

Ollie dropped his hand hastily from his snowman and moved away.

Chowder sat down next to their grass-moat, made from clearing all the snow around their snowcastle. Caitlin snapped a picture of him, with the sculpture, on her phone before joining him, and the two waited as Ransom and Holster looked at each entry in turn.

“Nice and traditional, Whiskey. Good effort. It’s easily the biggest here, so ten points for that, but it has to be a C minus for originality.”

“What’s the scoring system?” Tango asked. Ransom ignored him.

“It’s only biggest height wise,” Caitlin pointed out.

“We’ll get to you two,” Holster said dryly. He cast an eye over their work, rolled his eyes and moved onto Ollie and Wicky. “Now, I have to say, despite the whole, no team members work together rule, you two have somehow managed to end up with identical snowmen and there’s something a little suspect about that.”

“Then there’s the way they’re looking at each other and the gloves are clearly reaching out for a fist bump,” Ransom added. “We couldn’t judge these individually because they work as a joint piece and there’s no way of distinguishing between them, but if we judged them together then they would clearly be in breach of the rules.”

“My fellow judge and I will have to discuss this after seeing all the entries,” Holster decided.

“What do you mean you’ll discuss it later? That’s a disqualification!” Dex grumbled.

They carried on looking at the team’s snowmen in turn, praising Ford for her creativity in dressing an otherwise mundane snowwoman and commiserating with Tango for how his snowman ended up slanted. They were full of advice for the new frogs about what they could do in future years to make their work stand out, and to prepare for the competition beforehand. They laughed in Nursey’s face for his.

“It’s not my fault!” Nursey said, when Holster gently nudged the gaping hole in the snowman’s stomach.

“It’s completely his fault. He fell over. He’s a walking disaster.” Dex punctuated his statement with a snowball, which hit Nursey’s snowman in the nose. The celery stick Nursey had used for the nose snapped in half and fell to the ground.

“Hey! Sabotage!” Nursey ducked down to gather some snow to throw back at Dex.

“You’d already lost, Nurse,” Ransom pointed out. “Dex, stop heckling.”

When they came to stand next to Chowder and Caitlin’s snow sculpture, the two juniors bounced to their feet and grinned at each other. Okay, there were two of them, but they had done the most. Theirs was the most complicated and the most creative and given another half hour they could have finished refining it into perfection. Even how they had left it, their mini snowmen were the only things which didn’t quite have the detail they wanted.

“It’s very nice. A good castle, and wow that shark... But the competition was for building a snowman.”

“We have thirty-two snowmen,” Chowder said.

“Those tiny little balls of snow?” Holster asked.

“They are clearly snowmen!” Caitlin argued. “Two balls of snow on top of each other, that’s what makes a snowman. If we had a bit more time-”

“You didn’t have to build a castle,” Ransom pointed out.

“You said the castle was good.”

“Okay, okay, full marks for originality and creativity and the snow shark, but you’re not in the competition for the best snowman. If it was snow sculpting, you’d win, but your snowmen... How are we supposed to judge them if they’re only two inches tall?”

“Size doesn’t matter,” Chowder said. When Nursey snorted, he grabbed a handful of snow, and chucked it in his direction, but it broke apart in mid-air and ended up showering Nursey with snow instead.

Holster had crouched on the ground to look at the snowmen. “Is this one Pavelski?”

“It is!” Chowder said.

“How did you put the C on his chest?”

“Caitlin used her fingernail.”

“I like the goalie pads, too.”

“Thank-you!”

“You still haven’t won.”

Chowder’s face fell, and he and Caitlin sat back down again while they moved onto Bitty’s Snow Tater - the last to be judged.

“Ours is the best, though,” Caitlin said into his ear, in that stage whisper she used whenever she was trying to be subtle. Chowder had to nod in agreement as he looked at Bitty’s. It was a standard snowman, shorter than Bitty, with a large strawberry for a nose, a blueberry mouth, milk chocolate cookies for eyes, and the number 7 drawn into its back. There was nothing special about it.

“Results are in!” Holster announced. He and Ransom had taken their place on the top of the porch steps to declare the winner, and Dex reluctantly moved out the way, to stand by his own abandoned snowman between Nursey and Chowder. “In third place, we have Whiskey with his traditional Frosty. In second place, Ford, with Mrs Scrooge. And the winner is Bitty for his Snow Tater.”

“It’s a total set-up,” Dex muttered. Chowder hadn’t noticed him or Nursey creep closer to them, but now he looked down as Dex placed a snowball in his gloved hand.

Chowder turned the snowball over and grinned. Caitlin had prepped her own snowball on his other side, and the four of them didn’t need a countdown to aim their shots and fire the snowballs at Ransom and Holster.

“Bros, seriously?” Ransom asked, already scooping up some snow to retaliate.

“That’s for being biased,” Nursey told him.

“Nursey? Are you kidding me? Your snowman is terrible.”

“But Bitty’s is better than Chowder’s?”

“Hey!” Bitty said. “No need to be a sore loser.”

Dex turned and aimed his next snowball at Bitty, who shrieked and ducked behind Tango’s snowman. A well aimed shot from Ford hit him in the back, and the next moment, snowballs were flying all over the yard, as Bitty darted to the Haus.

“Aw, come on Bitty!” Ransom called when Bitty had barricaded himself inside. Five snowballs splattered against the kitchen window, and then Whiskey managed to hit Holster in the back of the head and war broke out.

“No! Fuck. Nursey, stop!”

Chowder turned to see what Dex was yelling about and was greeted by a faceful of snow. He wiped it off and narrowed his eyes at Caitlin. They tumbled to the ground when he tackled her. Her hand slid around his neck and she giggled into his chest.

“It’s like how we first met.”

Chowder grinned back at her. “Except that time we weren’t lying on a castle.”

“Oh no! We ruined it.” She twisted her head back to look in disappointment. “Is SJ Sharkie okay?”

“He’s okay, but I think we’ve massacred the defensemen,” Chowder said, poking at a lump which used to be Brent Burns in miniature.

“That’s so rude, Chow,” Nursey said. Chowder turned to see him and Dex lying in the snow a couple of feet away, both panting heavily. Dex had snow poking out the top of his pants, and Nursey’s jacket had come undone. Nursey’s snowman was also ruined, and its head seemed to have exploded over Dex’s chest.

“Well those lasted long,” Caitlin said dryly. “Maybe Bitty did deserve to win, after all.”

Sure enough, when Chowder sat up he could see that the Snow Tater was the only snowman still standing.

[birlcholtz]

Ch. 8: come home (to you, to us)

ao3 | ch. 1 | part of the zimbits airport au

About half an hour later, Bitty hears the garage door open and close, and then Coach and Suzanne’s muffled voices. Nobody comes upstairs to find him, so he disregards it and goes back to rambling in the old group chat that Shitty had insisted on keeping around— even once he, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster had graduated and Bitty was the only group chat member still at Samwell, Shitty claimed it was ‘his duty’ to give them updates on what was going on.

Bitty: i mean what am i even supposed to do now that i don’t have hockey as motivation to exercise

Bitty: running is gross

Bitty: punching bags are just.... ew, not good

Bitty: weights are meh

Bitty: i can’t just do squats???

Ransom: well jack’s solution to that problem was to join a pro hockey team

Bitty: i’m not getting paid to exercise

Holster: u should like

Holster: join an amateur league

Holster: or smth

Lardo: dude just accept that you can’t afford a car and public transportation is expensive and you’re gonna have to walk everywhere

Lardo: gettin those 10000 steps a day

Lardo: millennial exercise

Shitty: stop being depressing in the group chat LARDO

Shitty: (but she’s right)

Bitty: ew reality

Ransom: can u get a gym membership?

Bitty: not until i have money

Holster: burn calories by running away from your problems

Holster: zoom

Shitty: hOLSTER

Holster: shits ur literally still in school u don’t have to deal with this yet

Shitty: truE BUT STILL

Holster: u small bean

Shitty: ...bitch???

After that, the group chat moves at lightspeed, and Bitty’s content just to sit back and watch it happen. He counts no less than eight invocations of Holster’s age and size advantage and three of Shitty’s mustache. It’s only when there are soft footsteps in the hallway and a knock on Bitty’s door that he realizes how long he’s been sitting there watching his fellow alums (oh God) descend into a near brawl.

“Hey, Dicky,” his mother says when he gets up and opens the door. “Dinner’s ready, if you want it now. If not, we’ll save some for you and you can heat it up when you’re hungry. Your father told me you’re having a rough day.”

Bitty sighs. “It’s been a trying one,” he offers, and Suzanne nods in acknowledgement. He takes the now-empty plate of pralines, since there’s no point in leaving it in his room, and they walk downstairs in silence.

Dinner is interesting in that it’s so different from usual. Suzanne is willing to avoid making Bitty talk, but for once it’s Coach who carries the conversation. He carefully steers it away from Bitty at every opportunity, which is nice of him, but Bitty is completely verbal, he’s just... well, he’s tired. The tears left him feeling dried-up, almost, and Bitty doesn’t have enough energy to be emotional. He probably should’ve taken a nap before dinner, but it’s too late now. He can just go to bed early and hope that sleep serves as a reset of some sort— maybe he won’t wake up feeling so drained.

“Oh, and I’m hoping you can tell me what happened to all of those pralines that we made,” Suzanne says to Coach with a faint smile as she takes the third-to-last piece of garlic bread. “Funnily enough, a lot of them seemed to have vanished by the time I got home.”

“That was mostly me,” Bitty speaks up. His parents glance over at him in surprise, probably because he hasn’t been saying anything. “But Coach started it.”

When Suzanne looks over at Coach to confirm or deny that, he just shrugs.

“Well, alright then,” she says, and moves on while Bitty is still wondering if he should take the opportunity in front of him. She’s asking Coach about the plans for new locker rooms at the high school before he can say anything else.

Bitty finishes his food in silence, and then sits and stares at the table, not wanting to go to bed with the prospect of telling his mother still hanging over his head, but not wanting to say the words either. There’s no lead-in this time, no convenient discussion of roommates that he can use to bring it up. So how?

Coach must have assumed that Bitty’s not going to tell Suzanne tonight, because he’s still determinedly talking at length about how the team will have more locker space to store their gear. He’s only just started extolling the virtues of the new lighting when Bitty folds up his napkin and sets it neatly on the placemat. When he stands up, both of his parents look at him in surprise, and the force that he pushed his chair back with probably was surprising.

Bitty picks up his plate and cup to take to the dishwasher before saying, “Mom, I’m gay.”

The words come out calmer than he’d expected.

Suzanne blinks.

“I’m gay,” he repeats. “And I’m dating Jack Zimmermann.”

Then he puts his cup and plate in the sink and goes up to his room and shuts the door and sits on his bed and squeezes Señor Bun’s paw with one hand while he unlocks his phone with the other and composes three texts and sends them off.

The first one is to last year’s starting line. Chowder, Nursey, Dex, Whiskey, and Tango. Bitty reserves more personal things for this group chat instead of the team-wide one— not just because he was the captain, but also because there are only so many people he actually wants to vent about his life to. Hey y’all, just came out to my mom, send good vibes my way pls.

The second is to the same alumni groupchat that only just finished calming the fuck down. sooo now my mom knows im gay and that i have a boyfriend, am currently waiting in my room hoping that when i come back down things will be ok. left b4 she cld react.

The third is to Jack. told my mom, went to my room without waiting to see how she reacted. gonna go back down and see what the fallout is in like half an hour. i have a bag packed just in case, i’ll let you know if i’m coming over.

Jack responds immediately, as do other people who’d gotten one of his first two texts, but Bitty answers Jack’s first.

Jack: I have a rental car if you need a ride. Just let me know.

Bitty: i don’t think i will, but i’ll call and give u an update once i know more

Bitty: rn i’m just killing time

Jack: I’ll call you in an hour to check in if I don’t hear from you before then.

Bitty: talk to u in a lil bit

The two group chats that he’s texted have blown up over the course of his short conversation with Jack, mostly expressions of hope from the frogs and tadpoles and calm texts from the other alums meant to reassure. Bitty sends the frogs and tadpoles a quick thank you before turning to the other group chat.

Bitty: i have a contingency plan if things go horribly bad

Bitty: but my dad is ok w it

Bitty: so im giving him and my mom time to talk before i go back down there

Lardo: i think that’s a good idea

Holster: Pls. keep us updated about what’s happening.

Holster: Ransom is in the shower but he says if you need help w. anything hit us up.

Holster: (I concur)

Lardo: same, i already said u can crash on our couch, it’s ok if u want to stay here for a while

Lardo: but if ur dad is fine w it then i’m sure ur mom will be too

Shitty: ^^^^^

Shitty: dw

Shitty: #smhgotyourback

Holster: shitty i have been a college graduate for over a year and i’m crying over a gd hashtag.

Holster: why

Shitty: u know it’s true brah

Bitty’s stomach hurts when he walks downstairs, nauseous anticipation. He feels tense. His shoulders are hunched practically up to his ears.

He drops his bag in the front hallway before turning and walking into the kitchen. Suzanne and Coach are there, still sitting at the table. There are three glasses of sweet tea. Without that clue, Bitty wouldn’t have thought that they’d gotten up at all.

“Please sit down, Dicky,” Suzanne says when she sees him standing in the doorway.

Bitty sits, and for a little while, that’s what they do. Sit in silence. Until she sighs and says, “I will admit that whenever I pictured my future family, I always thought that my child would be straight.” She looks tired. “Although I can’t say I’m exactly surprised, either.”

Coach takes a sip of his tea.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand, because I don’t,” Suzanne says. “But I love you. You’re still my son, Eric Richard Bittle Junior. You still bake and you still skate and you’re still going to Boston to find a job in a week. None of that has changed.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Bitty agrees quietly.

“And I don’t want you going halfway across the country thinking I don’t love you, or you’re disowned, because neither of those things are true. I won’t lie to you and say it’s a great idea to tell the rest of the family— I’m sure you’ve already thought about that— but when it comes down to it, family you see twice a year aren’t as important as family you’re with every day, and I’m sure you know that too.” She drinks some of her tea. “I just hope that home doesn’t become such a painful place for you that you can never come back. Even if it’s just for a visit.”

“I haven’t left yet, Mama.”

Suzanne sniffs. Coach silently gets up and brings back a box of tissues, setting it on the table equidistant from his wife and his son. “That is true, isn’t it. I’m not letting you leave without trying that pot roast.”

Bitty smiles a little. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”

Bitty: it went ok

Chowder: that’s great!!!! congratulations!!!!!!!

Nursey: good to know

Tango: are u still coming up to mass. for the summer or are u staying there??

Bitty: still coming to boston!

Dex: see you soon then!

Whiskey: :) :) :)

Bitty: she’s not thrilled but she’s ok w it

Lardo: fuckin called it

Holster: excuse u u did not call anything

Lardo: umm yes i did???

Ransom: that’s good to hear bitty, we’re v happy for u except holster is busy being irritated at lardo? apparently?

Shitty: congrats brah, that’s a big thing you just did

Shitty: totally celebrating when u get here

Bitty: so overall everything went fine, my mom is not exactly ecstatic but she’s happy i told her

Bitty: oh and my parents want to meet u since i mentioned u were staying in madison for a little while?

Bitty: ur officially invited to the bittle residence on tuesday for pot roast

Jack: I’ll be there. How do you feel?

Bitty: lighter i guess?

Bitty: it hasn’t sunk in that i’m rlly out to both of my parents and it went ok

Jack: It’ll sink in eventually.

Bitty: yup

Jack: And you also never have to come out to your parents again.

Bitty: that’s a definite plus

Jack: Go to sleep early okay? You sound exhausted.

Bitty: i am

Bitty: yeah i’m gonna do that now. gn, ttyl, love you <3

Jack: I love you too. <3 <3 <3 <3

Jack: Talk to you tomorrow.

Bitty: :)

Jack: :-)

[eificopper]

Title:  Spitefulshipping - 50 things (Alt: Howthefuck…) Series/Timeline: Twinkle - timeline all over the place Characters: Shira – Techny – Citinea – Denika - Indigo (hinted) - Nozomi Length: 1851w

WHAT AM I DOING HAHA So I was like alright I’m just missing 10 more for the 50 themes brighship sentence challenge let’s do this //does 17 for spitefulship //whispers Howthefuck…?? So yeah why not? I’m at 31 and counting so let’s do this Not gonna put them in chronological order because LOL what is timeline with these two (I’m so sorry) have them in the order they’ve been written instead

Edit: 45 I’M YELING HOW ON EARTH XD also tried to organize them a bit more buth uhh;;; Edit2: Hallelujah I’m done and very happy with this <3

-----

1- Team “So we’ll be working together” Shira said when they were left alone “That will be interesting”

2- Neutral The two of them get into yet another argument and Citinea just sits there and goes “I’m neutral”

3- Spark The first time their bodies were so close together (due to that one tango presentation they did) Shira felt a certain jolt of electricity; she reasoned it was simply because they are both electric types.

4- Kick When one of Citinea’s little pranks somehow ended up with them in a rather suggestive pose she could only yelp in Kalosian (“C-Casse-toi!”) with a red face and push him away with a kick of her hooves, as he then yelled something about “now using it as a proper move” while Citinea laughed in the background.

5- Kiss All of the sudden his face is close, too close, and her legs are frozen in place as she feels his hand on her chin, and their noses touch and her face is growing warm, then hot, then cold, because Citinea just pulled him apart (muttering something about “males” and “disgusting”) and she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.  

6- Envy The Meercle doesn’t know when exactly she stopped being envious of the Coil and rather started being so of the Dokucale but it sure was a very odd feeling.

7- Line Shira was starting to believe the whole “there’s a thin line between Love and Hate” was a true fact after all; and she was dancing and tiptoeing around that line more and more as time went by…

8- Curious Despite not really enjoying that much her feeling-reading abilities she always thought she’d be weirded out if she ever met someone she could not read; turns out she found him ridiculously intriguing.

9- Opposites Shira wished she could say they were total opposites but actually they were more similar than she’d dare to admit.

10- Epiphany She had been simply overthinking her life in bed unable to sleep when she suddenly came to the conclusion that she wholeheartedly wanted to become his light; and then stayed awake the rest of the night wondering what to do with this new realization. 

11- Weakness Forget type matchups, she was his weakness and he knew it.

12- Hate Those who don’t know better will just say they really can’t stand each other but Citinea knows they’re just trying to convince themselves of that.

13- Smirk He smirks smugly and Shira is, partly, irritated that he’s looking so fucking proud of himself, but also just a slightly bit turned on because oh lord Xerneas who gave him the right to look so hot?

14- Question When Shira came to her one day commenting that she had a problem and Citinea jokingly asked if it was “unresolved sexual tension with Techny” she sure as hell didn’t expect the answer to be yes.

15- Friends “Friends? No, not a chance” Not when there was so much more than that.

16- Hostility The animosity she showed towards him since day one (be it due to her rivalry skyrocketing or natural dislike) seems like nothing at all compared to the hostility she shows to the new dark-type member; and strangely enough, he feels a certain relief.

17- Breathing He pulls back just far enough to get some air but still close enough so he can feel her breath on his lips, and says “we should have done this way sooner” before leaning in again.

18- Senses She has a hard time reading his feelings and he barely feels the warmth of her horns but even so they both stay still peacefully for a few moments, just basking on each other’s presence.

19- Sign Denika didn’t really notice the signs beforehand, but when she walked into Shira’s office to see them making out at her desk she began to realize how obvious it was in retrospect.

20- Hurt No matter how many times he said it was alright and carelessly dismissed it (“it’s just some metal I’m fine”) Shira still got really distressed whenever he got “hurt” and broke something; Well at least she didn’t faint, he figured. 

21- Nap Techny’s not sure how this happened but she’s fast asleep with her cheek pressed against his shoulder and he doesn’t dare move until she stirs awake, wipes her eyes and blushes through an unneeded apology.

22- Imperfections Under the eyes of the world they were both strong and confident; it wasn’t until the night had fallen and the lights had been turned off that they revealed their many cracks.

23- Note Techny stared for almost a solid minute at the small sticky note in a corner of his laptop’s screen that simply read “Je t’aime! =D <3” then decided to just leave it there and start working.

24- Touch Gloved fingers extended and brushed softly at the leaves in her neck while she was distracted and the Meercle shivered in response, tossing him an embarrassed frown when he let out a chuckle at her reaction.

25- Sarcasm Sometimes it was amusing to see her so confused and/or embarrassed when she took his sarcasm literally, and sometimes… it was just a headache for everyone involved.

26- Break It was perhaps because her relationship with him had initiated that way, because she actually loved butting heads and a challenge or maybe just because of her pride and rivalry instinct, but Shira simply loved to compete and spite him, to see his aloof strict posture break, and get all flustered and curt.

27- Addiction He was addicted to her, to her smiles, her touch, her kisses, her voice, her company… and couldn’t find an answer as to when and how that even happened.

28- Quiet Shira insists that she’s fine, which Tech considers and insult to his intelligence since the grass-type is wearing the fakest smile he’s ever seen and is never this quiet unless she’s asleep.

29- Hug For someone who claimed she didn’t want to be touched most of the time the Meercle could be incredibly clingy, he noted.

30- Coat With his longcoat casually draped over her shoulders while reviewing some folders, Shira wonders out loud (and it’s just to mess with him, he knows it) what would be his reaction to her wearing only that and nothing under; unknown to her the mental image sticks in his mind all day long.

31- Patience Lying down in the bed boredly looking at the ceiling she asks him to teach her some coding and/or hacking; without even looking away from the screen he replies neither of them have the patience to attempt that, and she huffs and mumbles a “touché”

32- Soul He was supposed to keep his emotions in check, or to have one emotion be shown to disguise all the rest, but when she started to see through that mask, he made no attempt to improve his skill around her.

33- Body She is smooth and soft and warm, an organic kind of beauty, and when pressed against him it was the best thing in the world.

34- Enough He has enough pressure already managing SO almost by himself, but when she decides to start destroying herself with alcohol he just can’t stand it anymore.

35- Drunk He’s given up on saying anything and just sighs half-irritated half-disgusted as he sets away the glass from her hand and tries to get her to stand up; in response she doesn’t utter a word either but instead suddenly puts her arms around his neck and kisses him hard, and her lips are like something of an apology even though they taste like that last shot of tequila she just downed.

36- Remorse      Shira’s life is largely ruled by guilt, that is an undeniable truth, but one of her biggest regrets is honestly having hurt Techny so badly while inebriated. 

37- Evolution “You just went from a small paralyzing goat to a huge paralyzing goat, is not that much of a change” “Shut up I’m a majestic creature, besides, you’re just a bigger cluster of screws and metal you have no right to talk”

38- Sing She thinks she has the place to herself and her voice grows from a soft hum into a full-fledged song, only to stop in embarrassment when she realizes her boyfriend staring at the doorway entranced.

39- Duty He felt it was his duty to protect her, not just because she was female but rather because she was his dear Shira.

40- Sensual Never did she think one day she’d be moaning his name quite like that, and he never imagined it’d sound as sweet and gratifying.

41- Happiness Everyone claims happiness is a feeling, a feeling fleeting and elusive, but Techny knows his happiness is much more concrete than that, with unique curled back horns and a smile to light up the world.

42- Sunset Shira is not just one color, easy to figure out and completely boring, no, Shira is a gradient of colors like a sunset sky, a million different things that Techny could never work out but would spend the rest of his life trying to.  

43- Surprise He likes to keep his cool even in most dire situations; however his face was positively a poem when his wife casually mentions one day that she wants to have a kid.

44- Change Her poor husband is acting so ridiculous and vulnerable (in a way she had certainly never seen before) that she’s almost starting to feel bad for teasing him and pushing at his buttons, but is just sooooo tempting and mesmerizing to see him now as a Rentorar.

45- Innocent Little baby Nozomi paws around in his father’s grasp and actually tries to grab at his headset visor despite Techny’s protests and Shira thinks it’s just hilarious and watches him struggle instead of helping and picking up the child.

46- Climb Techny just sighs and presses two fingers to his forehead, thinking it’s honestly utterly ridiculous to see his wife getting so worried and panicked over Nozomi climbing up that high, after all, who did he learn it from?

47- Alone Her mom used to warn her, tell her to “be prepared” for being a widow, for all the females in their family outlive the males; Shira just didn’t think it’d happen so soon...

48- End It both confused and irked Shira to see other people smiling and laughing like nothing had happened, she felt so miserable not even her children could cheer her up.

49- Ring Nozomi can easily identify when his mom is feeling anxious or troubled without even needing to read her feelings, for she starts unconsciously tapping and fidgeting with her wedding ring non-stop.

50- Victory Shira leans on the sidelines with a small smile as she sees her kid win one of his battles, he strongly reminds her of herself, but when he smirks just the right way after victory she can clearly see his father on him.   

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 19)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 18

Dex drives him to the airport.

Even though it's still too fucking early o'clock, Whiskey feels wide awake. He didn’t think he would – it’s not exactly like he got an abundance of sleep, last night. He’s supposed to be joining the Aeros for their practice, right after lunch, and unfortunately, he highly doubts this nervous energy is going to last him until then.

Whiskey closes his eyes, breathes in and out. It’s fine. It will be fine. Somehow.

"Hey," Dex says carefully.

"I'm okay." Whiskey forces his eyes back open. "Thank you for doing this. I’m so sorry it had to be this fucking early."

"No problem," Dex tells him firmly. "Just remember – if you need to get out of there, for any reason, don’t hesitate to call. Alright? I promise I’ll drive right down and rescue you.”

Somehow, that actually makes Whiskey smile.

"Sure. It's literally on the other side of the country, but sure."

"Just a few hours behind the wheel," Dex replies decisively, almost like it could truly be that simple. Like he actually means it. "Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you talked to Jack, yet?"

Wait. What?

"Zimmermann?" Whiskey asks doubtfully, and watches in disbelief as Dex nods. "Why would I… Dex, I don't actually know Jack Zimmermann. I've spoken to him once, maybe twice in my life."

“He’s Samwell Men’s Hockey alumni, isn’t he?” Dex points out. “And obviously, he knows more about these things than any of us. He could definitely help you get some perspective.”

“Maybe, but I can’t just… It’s not like I’ve even got his number.”

“Do you mind if I talk to him, then?” Dex suggests. “I’m sure he’d have your back, Whiskey. And if there’s ever a time when you should rely on all of your support systems, I think it’s probably now.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt,” Whiskey agrees, somewhat tersely. It goes without saying that talking to Jack equals getting Bitty in the loop, and Whiskey’s not sure if he’s completely ready for that, just yet. “You know, it’s really okay if… I mean, Jack Zimmermann is probably very busy.”

“Just leave it to me.” If Dex picks up on Whiskey’s discomfort on the subject, he doesn’t show it. “We should probably also consider how much I should tell the team, while you’re away? They’re bound to have some questions.”

Whiskey closes his eyes again, just briefly. Fuck. The team. Tango and Ford. Louis, Hops and Bully. Chowder and Nursey. Joyo and Jader. Pips. God fucking damnit.

“Tango and Ford already know,” Whiskey says, as evenly as he can manage. “As for the rest, could you just… Try to say as little as possible? At least for now.”

Dex takes a moment before he replies.

“They’re all going to be happy for you,” he says carefully. “You know that, right? Sad, too, and in some cases pretty fucking devastated. But happy, ultimately.”

“Maybe, yeah.” Whiskey attempts a casual shrug that he knows Dex will see right through. “I just think, if I’m really doing this, then I’m going to need to tell them all myself. So for now, just say that something came up and that I will be back on Saturday.”

“Alright,” Dex agrees. His tone is a lot gentler than before. “Sounds good.”

Whiskey nods, once.

They don’t talk much more for the rest of the drive.

Emily has booked Whiskey a first-class ticket, and that should be exciting or at least somewhat distracting, but it’s not. Whiskey barely takes in his surroundings as he moves through priority boarding and fully reclines in his very spacious seat. He manages to sleep a little on the plane, so at least that’s something.

A bored-looking driver collects Whiskey from the airport, and then they’re off straight towards the rink. Whiskey grits his teeth as he steps out of the car. This is it. This is actually fucking it.

Someone is waiting for him by the entrance. It’s one of the players Whiskey certainly knew by name even before he obsessively googled the Aeros’s current roster, the night before. Walt ‘Mickey’ Davis, team captain of the Aeros and one of the highest ranked defensemen in professional hockey.

Whiskey takes a breath. No big deal. Absolutely no big deal at all.

“I hear you’ve had a bit of a whirlwind, these past twelve hours,” Walt greets him. His handshake is firm, and Whiskey immediately likes the steady way he meets Whiskey’s eyes. If Walt Davis is at all concerned with the fact that two of his best forwards are out due to a broken collarbone and a torn meniscus, respectively, he certainly doesn’t show it. “It’s Connor Whisk, right? Let’s see what we can do with that. I go by Mickey.”

“I know,” Whiskey says, only to immediately feel stupid. Which, in itself, is stupid – the only reason he’s here is because he’s been explicitly asked to come, so if he somehow makes an utter fool of himself it’s actually kind of on them. Besides, all of this is just more hockey, isn’t it? Whiskey knows hockey. How fucking hard can it be? “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m really looking forward to getting on the ice with you guys.”

“Polite, eh?” Mickey smiles. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in as best as we can, before practice. I have to warn you, though – Ducky has this slight obsession with the Samwell NCAA team. He might have one or two questions. Just let me know if you ever need him to back off.”

Whiskey blinks. Right. What’s one more utterly baffling thing to navigate.

Ducky, it turns out, has a lot more than two questions. He instantly reminds Whiskey of Tango in the best way possible, which unfortunately makes Whiskey feel nauseous all over again – what the fuck is he even doing here – but he kind of also reminds Whiskey of Bitty in a way that calms him slightly, and of Chowder in a way that almost makes him smile.

“So obviously, there’s been a lot of talk,” Ducky says, after Whiskey has apparently satisfied his curiosity on Samwell’s defensive strategy during last season’s playoffs, “About Eric Bittle. You played with him, right?”

Whiskey stills.

“Uh, yeah. For two years.”

“That long, huh.” Ducky grins. “So, like, is there any chance you’ve got some intel on the whole jam situation?”

“Ducky,” Mickey says, somewhat warningly.

“No, I swear, it’s a whole thing!” Ducky insists. “I used to play with Poots on the Falconers, okay, and I’m telling you, Poots won’t fucking shut up about it!”

Slowly, Whiskey exhales.

“The jam is a whole thing,” he offers tentatively. “But, it’s not... I mean, Bitty’s jam is the greatest, yes, Poots is absolutely onto something there. It’s just, did he really not mention the pies?”

Ducky’s eyes widen.

“Oh my God. There’s pies, too?”

“Dude,” Whiskey says. He actually smiles. “The pies are where it’s really at.”

“Our nutritionist is gonna be all over this,” someone chirps – Lacer, if Whiskey’s not entirely mistaken. God, he’s gonna need fucking flashcards. "Are we talking, like, blueberry or apple, here? Or is there any chance for apricots?"

Somehow, inexplicably, the conversation about pie lasts all the way until they're lacing up their skates. It's only then that Whiskey realises they've talked a lot about Bitty, and at one point little about Jack, but not for one single second about Bitty and Jack. It just hasn't come up, even once. Whiskey's not entirely sure if that should make him feel relieved, or concerned.

Stepping onto the ice is like a breath of fresh air. Whiskey skates a lap, and then another, and it’s like he finally relaxes for the first time since last night. Pretty soon, Mickey calls them to order, and suddenly it’s all starting, but Whiskey still feels like he’s got a decent grip on himself. He’s got this. He can do this.

They run a bunch of drills focused on puck control, at first, and then split up into pairs to work on passing and receiving. And somehow, it all feels achingly familiar. It’s almost like Tango is right there next to Whiskey as he shoots the puck to Ducky over and over again – Whiskey gets the timing exactly right every time, but that's only because he and Tango spent all those hours fucking nailing their passes, last season. And later, when Whiskey races Mickey up the ice in a speed exercise that has him high on adrenaline, it’s almost like Pips skates furiously beside him, like always, pushing and pushing and pushing until Whiskey is giving it everything he’s got and then just a little bit more. It’s weirdly grounding, how every member of the Samwell team seems to manifest themselves through his playing, a constant reminder of how far they’ve all helped him come.

They play something of a mock-game towards the end of it, and Mickey has them changing up the lines again and again. By the time they’re wrapping things up, Whiskey thinks he’s played alongside each of the other forwards at least once.

They’re all good. They’re all really fucking good.

Mickey claps a hand on his back as they’re stepping back into the locker room.

“Not bad,” he says. “You’re fast.”

Not as fast as Pips, Whiskey doesn’t tell him. And neither are you.

“I try to be,” he says instead, and Mickey grins.

“You’ll catch up to an old man like me in no time,” he chirps kindly. “Now, I think Larsen wants to get hold of you sooner rather than later. Let’s try not keep her any longer, eh?”

Unsurprisingly, Emily Larsen is waiting for him when he steps out of the locker room.

“There you are,” she says brightly. “Welcome to Houston, Connor. We’re so happy to have you here at such short notice.”

He’s ushered off to something that turns out to be a meeting. There’s at least three different people who shake his hand on the way there – one of them is the nutritionist, who has somehow already heard rumours about baked goods. 

Emily promises not to keep him for too long, but she does have a few things that apparently can’t wait. She goes over the draft of his contract, aided by someone from the legal department who is able to answer some of Whiskey’s questions, which is good. Or well, it’s at least informative. Then there’s the question of housing options, which Whiskey decides to postpone until all of this is actually completely settled. He’s in a hotel, for now, which is perfectly fine. Finally, Emily runs through a brief power-point presentation on the Aeros, their history, and some aspects of life in Houston. Which isn’t uninteresting, exactly, but Whiskey is sort of more fucking exhausted than he remembers being in last year’s playoffs.

“Almost done,” Emily reassures him as she changes yet another slide.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, the next headline captures Whiskey’s full attention. Outreach Activities – You Can Play & The Rainbow Puck Foundation. Our values and vision.

“Well,” Emily says. She looks at the screen, her expression almost a little confused. “This is, you know. What we stand for, and all of that.”

And just like that, she’s moved on to the next slide.

Right.

Whiskey checks into his hotel room, puts his suitcase down, makes it to the bed and sleeps for three hours.

When he wakes up, he’s got seven missed calls and more than twenty texts.

Most of the texts are from Miguel. Whiskey smiles softly while he scrolls through Miguel's more than familiar stream-of-consciousness. It's perhaps a little more chipper than usually, almost as if Miguel is making an effort to sound nothing but cheerful. Whiskey's heart aches desperately as he types up a few lines in response. got here okay. practice was fine. will call you tonight. I miss you so fucking much.

The calls are from Dex, Chowder, Louis and Pips. Pips has called twice, Dex thrice. Dex has also sent him five texts.

The last one contains Jack Zimmermann’s phone number.

call Jack, okay? he’d really like to hear from you. Bitty says hi, by the way.

Whiskey plugs in his phone, and gets up. If he’s going to have a heart to heart with one of the most high-profile players in the league, he’s going to take another shower, first, and his phone is going to have more than six percent battery.

About half an hour later, he’s put on pajamas, because fuck it, and settled into an armchair by the window with his hair still damp. His hands barely shake as he carefully types in the number.

Jack Zimmermann doesn’t pick up until the seventh ring.

“Connor?” he asks by way of greeting.

“Yeah.” Whiskey pulls his knees up to his chest and fiddles with the hem of his pajama pants. “Hi.”

“Give me just one second.” There’s a bustling noise, the sound of a door closing and then quiet. “There. It’s nice to talk to you again.”

“You, too.” God, Whiskey has no idea how the fuck he’s supposed to navigate this. “I hope this isn’t a bad time?”

“Not at all,” Jack reassures him. “How are you?”

“Um.” Whiskey grimaces. “Tired?”

“I can imagine,” Jack says, his voice surprisingly warm. “Dex filled me in a little bit, this morning. You’re already in Houston, right?”

“That’s right, yeah.”

“How are things, so far?”

“Not bad,” Whiskey decides, after a moment’s consideration. “I don’t really… I mean, I’ve actually barely had time to think about it.”

Jack hums.

“How long do you have, before you need to give them a definite answer?”

“Until Sunday.”

“Sunday. Okay.” Jack pauses momentarily. “That’s not unreasonable, on their part. Sometimes these things happen really fast.”

“Right. Okay.”

“Can I ask… Do you have an agent?”

“No, actually.” Whiskey runs a hand through his hair. “I haven’t really... I mean, I’ve basically been thinking that there would still be time before I’d need to consider these things more seriously. This opportunity was very unexpected.”

“Okay.” There’s another moment of silence before Jack speaks again. “Look, I’m just going to be very blunt about this. How much are these guys offering you?”

“Ah,” Whiskey says. He tries to remember – there’s been numbers mentioned, several of them, something about a signing bonus and a monthly salary and Whiskey’s barely registered anything beyond how that’s a lot of digits, holy cow. “I haven’t… Honestly, the financial aspect has sort of been the last thing on my mind.”

“Okay,” Jack says again, and there’s something of a smile in his voice. “I understand that, I really do. There are a lot of other important factors. It’s just, you should definitely think about getting an agent.”

“No, I know,” Whiskey agrees readily. “I, uh. This has all just happened really fast.”

“I’m getting that.” There’s no judgement in Jack’s tone. “But you haven’t actually signed anything yet, right? Not even some non-disclosure formality?"

“No, nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Then you’ve got the ball in your corner, still,” Jack says encouragingly. “Or, you know. The puck. This is all going to play out the way you decide is best, in the end.”

“... Right.” Suddenly, Whiskey wants to laugh. Fuck, he’s so tired. “The thing is, I’ve honestly got no clue how I’m supposed to figure that out. There’s no telling if I’ll ever get a better offer than this, and that’s...  A major concern for me. This is what I want to do, and I don’t know if I can afford to pass up on this chance. But I never imagined that I would need to be ready to take this step so soon, and I… I just don’t know if I’m going to be.” 

“Okay,” Jack says. And this time, he doesn’t need to pause and consider before he responds. “Look. The only thing you need to do, here, is make sure that you do right by yourself and what it is that you need. Okay? I know the Aeros are in a bit of a hurry, at the moment – I’ve heard all about those injuries and the estimated recovery times. They’re going to have several key players out for the rest of the season, and that’s certainly an urgent situation for them. Now, I’ve seen the way you play, Connor, and I’m more than familiar with your statistics. You’re good. Clearly, this is a move that makes complete sense for the Houston Aeros. The real question is, is it something that’s going to make complete sense for you?”

Whiskey closes his eyes for a moment. He exhales, and feels his shoulders relax a bit. Huh. When he opens his eyes again, looking out over the unfamiliar city outside his window, it’s like he finally has a moment of clarity.

“I don’t know,” he says, almost steadily. “I thought it might.”

“Well,” says Jack Zimmermann. He sounds almost fond, which is of course completely ridiculous. Clearly, Whiskey is having some sort of sleep-deprived hallucination. “Maybe don't rule it out after your very first day. But you might want to give that some serious thought, during the rest of this week.”

“Yeah.” Whiskey inhales, then exhales. “I guess that’s what I’ll have to do.”

Their conversation continues for a little while longer. Jack inquires about some of the Samwell team members, and coach Hall and Murray, and Whiskey finds himself surprisingly at ease as they take turns sharing a few personal anecdotes about Faber, and the Haus. It's never quite struck him, before, how much of a shared history he has with the generations of Samwell team members that came before him.

"I'd really like to stay in touch," Jack says before they hang up. Surprisingly, he tacks on something of a chirp. "If you're going to be my new competition, I'd like to know what I'm up against."

"I don't think I could give you competition," Whiskey tells him honestly, and if that reveals just a little more of Whiskey's deep and genuine admiration for Jack than he had maybe intended to show, well, so be it.

"Don't be so sure," Jack says plainly. "Take care out there, Connor. I'll talk to you soon."

ch. 20

[everwitch-magiks]

dance with somebody (ch. 18)

start from ch. 1 | back to ch. 17

It’s a quiet evening in January, when everything changes.

Whiskey has just come back from his run and is met by a familiar yet unusual smell as he steps inside the Haus. It’s cumin and garlic, pork and definitely chili… Whiskey frowns. It can’t be. Really, it can’t. He makes his way into the kitchen, almost hesitantly.

Except, it is.

Miguel is at the kitchen table, speaking with a patient tone as he guides an unusually focused Hops through the steps of properly folding tamales. It was only last week that Whiskey learned the method and terminology, himself, when Miguel had shown him the process in the cramped kitchen of his new apartment. There’s two pots on the stove, and something's already in the oven – garlic bread, if Whiskey isn't entirely mistaken. Huh.

Both Hops and Miguel look up when Whiskey enters.

“Hey, there." Miguel smiles. He makes a small, somewhat helpless gesture around the room in general, as if to say I wasn't expecting this, either or perhaps even this isn't actually my fault. “Dinner’s on the way.”

“Whiskey!” Hops exclaims giddily. “I’m cooking!”

“I can see that,” Whiskey says carefully.

He’s more than a little bit surprised. Miguel comes and goes almost as frequently as some of the members of the team, these days, so it’s not completely unheard of that he’d be at the Haus before Whiskey. Still, Whiskey didn’t expect Miguel to have made himself quite this comfortable in the Haus kitchen. Especially since they’ve been making such an effort to keep things very low-key.

“Oh, Whisk, have you met Miguel?” Hops suddenly asks, completely sincere. “He’s Tango’s friend. And a kitchen genius, obviously.”

“Oh my God,” Miguel says, very quietly.

Whiskey wants to laugh. He wants to laugh so badly. He forgets, sometimes, how the world can be so stubbornly determined to see nothing but heterosexuality all around.

“No, we’ve met,” Whiskey finally says, probably more than five seconds too late, but at least he keeps most of his composure. “Actually, we had a class together last semester.”

"Oh, that's 'swasome." Hops grins, blissfully oblivious. "Me and Tango have decided Miguel can use the Haus kitchen anytime, so you might be seeing a lot more of each other."

"I suppose that's fine," Whiskey says dryly. Miguel stifles a laugh. "Do you guys need any help?"

“I think we’re fine,” Miguel says brightly. “Actually, Whiskey, isn’t that your phone on the table? It’s been buzzing non-stop for a while, now.”

Miguel is right – it is his phone. Whiskey picks it up. He’s got seven missed calls, all from an unknown number. Huh. Just as he pulls up his browser to google it, his phone starts ringing again.

“I’d better take this.” Whiskey is already leaving the kitchen. “Save me some garlic bread, okay?”

“You got it!”

He’s making his way up the stairs as he takes the call.

“It’s Connor.”

“Oh, there you are.” The pleasant voice on the other end of the line is only vaguely familiar. “Connor, this is Emily Larsen. We met briefly a couple of months ago at one of your home games. Is this a good time? I’ve actually got a few different things to cover.”

Emily Larsen… Right. That Emily Larsen. The Houston Aeros.

Wait. Seven missed calls?

“It’s nice to hear from you,” Whiskey says carefully. He enters his bedroom and closes the door firmly. “Now is fine. I’ve got time.”

“Good, good.” Emily pauses for a moment. “This is kind of going to be a lot, okay? Just let me talk for a bit, first. I promise I’ll try to answer all of your questions later.”

She doesn’t give him the chance to respond before she launches right into it.

It is a lot, Whiskey thinks dizzily, and paying proper attention soon turns out to be something of a challenge. Mostly because every impossible thing Emily tells him seems more impossible than the one before. Several ill-timed injuries, which means we have an unexpected opening, Emily says, and Whiskey’s heartbeat quickens. A make or break situation where we need to act fast, Emily says, and Whiskey finds that he needs to sit down. We'd like to get you down in time for tomorrow’s practice, Emily says, and Whiskey has to remind himself to breathe.

“Tomorrow,” he manages to cut in, the single word costing him an unbelievable effort. “That’s… That’s really soon.”

“We have our next game on Tuesday, next week,” Emily explains efficiently. “We would need to have you on the ice with our guys as much as possible, before then.”

“Okay,” Whiskey says faintly. “I, uh. I have a pop quiz tomorrow.”

It’s probably a pretty fucking stupid thing to say, but Whiskey can’t actually bring himself to care very much right now. His mind is still spinning rapidly.

“Look,” Emily says. Her voice has softened, just slightly. “If you’re going to sign with us, you won’t be having a lot of pop quizzes in the near future. You’re going to need to drop out.”

“Right,” Whiskey says. He forces himself to take a steadying breath. “No, I get that. It’s just all very sudden. Is there any chance I could have some time to consider?”

Emily is quiet for a brief moment.

“This is a really big opportunity, Connor,” she says firmly. “We need someone to come down as soon as possible – yesterday, preferably. I can’t hold this door open for very long.”

“I understand that,” Whiskey tells her. And really, he does. It’s just… Whiskey gives himself a second, let’s himself just look around his room for a moment. His eyes linger at the Samwell banner he’s got pinned to the wall and the framed picture of the team that sits on his desk. Somehow, it all calms him down enough to help him hold his ground. “But I’m still going to need more than a couple of hours to make a decision like this. If you can’t accommodate that, then I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to accept.”

There’s another period of silence from Emily, except this time it’s not quite silent. A faint noise can be heard at the other end of the line, almost as if Emily has covered her phone with her hand and is exchanging a few words with someone else.

“Alright,” Emily says, more than a few moments later. “How about this. We fly you down tomorrow, you join us for practice for the rest of the week, but you don’t actually decide whether to sign with us or not until Sunday. We can get you back to Samwell over the weekend so you can take care of any unfinished business, but by Monday you’ll relocate permanently. First game on Tuesday.”

Whiskey bites his lower lip. It’s still impossibly fast, but at least it’s slightly better. And Emily is right – this is a really big opportunity. In many ways, it’s actually exactly what Whiskey has been hoping for all this time.

“Yeah,” Whiskey hears himself say. “That works.”

They wrap up the call soon after. Emily says she’ll send him his flight details, plus a check-list of things to pack. Whiskey remembers to thank her for her time, and for the opportunity. When they hang up, he’s almost convinced himself that he’s not freaking out about this.

As soon as Miguel steps into his room, that illusion shatters.

“I swear,” Miguel says cheerfully, “I give Tango one helping of leftover tamales, and suddenly the whole Haus wants in. Can you even believe…”

He quiets. Evidently, he’s registered the look on Whiskey’s face.

“Hey,” Miguel continues softly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s... I’ve just, uh.”

Whiskey tries to breathe. God. He thought it wouldn't be like this, at least not yet. He thought he still had time.

Apparently, he was so wrong.

It is what it is, though. And it's not like they didn’t both know this was going to happen eventually. It's just sooner, rather than later. And it's a good thing. It should be exactly what Whiskey wants.

Whiskey finally manages to take a breath. It almost feels better. And anyway, he literally doesn't have time for even a minor breakdown, right now.

He needs to get a fucking grip.

“I’m leaving for Houston, in the morning.”

ch. 19