#only a bittle..

[fuzzyminte]

MEDICINE !!!

[moran-with-a-g]

I got my meds let's fucking go

[fanartshmanart]

Bitty's butch glow-up from year 1

[salty-software-engineer]

In my head Jack Zimmerman gets super into Dogsred (and subsequently drags everyone else into reading it) and everyone keeps telling Bitty that it's just like him! A figure skater switching to hockey! And Bitty's absolutely furious and refuses to be associated with Rou and absolutely hates his character (partly because it comes up so much).

[freebooter4ever]

kenny p is losing his mind over this one

[porcupine-girl]

I’ve seen (and written) NHL!Bitty, but has anyone written NHL!Bitty/Social media manager!Jack?

This is not a Jack who enjoys social media, mind you - just one who is good at it, and so does it as his job, but probably doesn’t even have personal accounts except to post photos. He probably quit hockey entirely after the overdose and got a marketing degree. His least favorite part of his job is going through the personal accounts of the rookies the Falcs are looking at and making lists of things they’ll need to delete when they sign - if he doesn’t make them just delete their account and start fresh.

And now they’re courting this openly gay captain of a team who made it to the frozen four, who is the first rookie he’s had to deal with who actually comes with his own following both on Twitter and YT. Which means Jack only has so much control over any of it - he can tell Bittle to delete things but if he makes him delete too much it’ll get noticed and maybe even set off some kind of Streisand effect, and he can tell Bittle there are things he’s not allowed to post about but he can’t really control the content because again, Bittle’s followers will notice if his style changes.

Jack does not like having so little control over a rookie’s accounts.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Can't Have One Without the Other 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, body insecurity, abuse/violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your marriage is on the rocks.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky sets you up on the couch. It feels intentional. You'd rather be in bed, alone. You're not just hurt, you're embarrassed.

You warned him over and over. You're out of practice; out of shape; out of everything. 

You sigh. Just the deep breath makes your back tweak. It's just another wall to your prison.

When did you start thinking about this? Maybe the months you spent alone here... Did anyone check in? Steve's wife now and then but she's young and naive and it only reminds you of how bitter you've grown.

"Found it," Bucky startles you as he struts in. He's in sweats and a take, his hair slick from a shower. You smell his body soap wafting in the air.

"Found... what?" You ask, only just able to see him over the armrest.

"Body oil," he wiggles a bittle at you. "When's the last time we had fun with this?"

Frustration swells in your chest. What the hell? That shower must have been a full reset. He didn't say a word on the way home. You didn't either. Now it's like everything is daisies.

"Fun?" You mutter.

"Doc says a massage. You pulled a muscle." He nears and puts the oil on the end table. "Mm, you know I got good hands."

You look at him. Is he try to fix this or forget this?

He bends to nudge your side, "shimmy over."

You can't move much. He helps you turn so you're facing the backrest and he sits on the edge of the cushions. He pushes your shirt up and tugs until you whimper and lift your arms. You twist around to free yourself.

He reaches over you and snatches the bottle. The click of the cap makes you flinch. He smears the oil over your back as you shield your chest. The coolness of the liquid makes you tense.

You're quiet as he traces his thumbs along your flesh. His touch is firm but soothing. You groan and close your eyes.

He works your neck and shoulders before moving down to your ribs where the muscle tremors. He pushes into it and you whine. He tuts.

"Gonna hurt a bit 'til I loosen it up."

You can't speak. You merely wiggle your head in acquiescence. Something about this is disarming. It's like he's reclaiming you. A reminder of his strength. He has you in the palm of his hands, almost literally. 

His hand slides up to your side and toward your hip. He squeezes and you grit your teeth. He fingers curl around to your stomach. You stop him.

"Gonna work on it," you say. "No more fast food."

"Does that mean the rest of the snack cakes are up for grabs?" He teases. He found your stash when he tore your dresser apart.

"In the cupboard now," you assure him. Can you help that you missed him? That you just wanted some comfort?

"It doesn't bother me, baby. More of you to love."

"It bothers me," you snap. "Alright? And... and..." you grunt and roll onto your back. "And you don't seem to care what bothers me."

"You're going to get oil on the couch--"

"Bucky. I didn't ask you to..." you huff and push yourself up, scowling at the effort. You keep an arm across your chest. 

"I'm helping," he argues.

"I know you're trying to but I need-- I need space."

"I'm here. Trying to listen like you want--"

You close your eyes, exasperated. 

"Yeah, well," you flick your lashes open, "I don't really know what to say anymore."

His expression darkens. He stares at you. A shiver ripples over you. You gulp and reach for your shirt. He gets it first.

"You're setting me up. You want me to fail." He accuses. "You're trying to make me the bad guy--" he stops as he twists your shirt, "because you did something...."

"Did something... Bucky I waited for you--"

He startles you as suddenly he swoops the shirt around your neck. He twists the ends together until it's taut around your throat. He keeps the fabric in his metal fist and jerks you. You gasp at the pang it sends down your spine.

You grab onto his hand as your face contorts in horror. "Bucky, you know--"

"Do I know you anymore? I come home and you're cold. All I did was my job. Went out to make the money to support your fucking doodles--"

You slap him. You choke on his name as his reels back and keeps a hold of you. His lip curls and his eyes dialate.

He stands and rips you off the couch. He slams you to the ground with the snare around your neck. He puts you on your stomach and straddles you as you whimper and writhe.

"You think you can win this?" He sneers as he bends over you, hot breath searing over your scalp.

"Bucky--" you clutch the cotton as it tightens. "Why--" your eyes speckle with tears. "What happened to you?"

"Ask yourself that," he snarls and twists the shirt until you can't speak. "Maybe I just want a little bit of respect from my fucking wife."

You get your fingers under the shirt and wheeze. "Then why don't you act like my husband! "Why didn't you answer me for a whole month?"

"This again," he growls and jerks the shirt.

You cough and reach out, desperate to drag yourself away. You know it's hopeless. When you married him, you never thought he'd use his strength on you. Not like this.

He lens forward and grabs your hand. "You always had more time for those drawings than me. I never said a damn word." He grips your middle finger and you freeze. The tension in your joint is electric. "You need to figure out what's important." He wrenches your finger back and your knuckle pops. The pain makes you shriek. "It isn't the doodle." He grips your index next and bends it back. You wail again, blinded in agony. "You'll see who takes care of you when you got nothing else."

[parvuls]

no, because - famous person starts dating less famous person and is then gradually overshadowed is a trope. a trope often used to bring external conflict into stories. but jack and bitty are carefully constructed as the opposite of that, and I'm fucking feral over it.

we joke about how jack will eventually be bitty's trophy husband and be thrilled about it, but it definitely has a giant grain of truth in it. it's how they're characterized. bitty is an extrovert; jack is an introvert. bitty reached out and built himself an online audience to deal with his trauma; jack shut himself out and started avoiding the public to deal with his.

bitty finds comfort in being able to talk to others and (as seen in spotlight on eric bittle) considers being a public figure a sort of healing experience: coming out and being a public person (in every manner of speaking, not just sexuality wise) and putting himself in the limelight is such an important part of his journey because he sees it as a way of helping others who were in his situation.

jack grew up in the spotlight as the only son of two prominent figures. he grew up as a child with anxiety with the media's eyes on him as he was compared to his father. he grew up as an overweight teen featuring in trashy gossip columns as he was compared to his mother. he got into rehab in part because of this attention and it only attracted more attention to him. a lot of jack's anxiety stems from the notion of people looking at him and thinking about him and talking about him and judging him, and it's unfortunate because jack's dream is to play hockey, and that comes with even more attention.

but that's the thing: jack and bitty's story is (once again) a demonstration of two people making each other's lives better.

jack's fame thrusts bitty into the spotlight post-cup, and it's a giant push forward in helping him reach a bigger audience and thus grow his independent fame. bitty's growing fame slowly overshadows jack, to the point where ngozi says they'll one day be Eric Bittle and his Athlete Husband. and that means jack gets to play hockey, and win cups, and achieve fame in his own field, but the media's attention slides off him to his husband, and the fans on the street gradually approach bitty more than him, and jack is free to have his success with less of the personal scrutiny.

it's not that jack becomes less important than bitty. it's that bitty gets to stand in front of the direct sun and flourish as a result, while jack gets to stand in the shade bitty creates and flourish as a result. it's symbiosis. it's beautiful.

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Do you know this queer character?

Bitty is Gay and uses he/him pronouns!

[space-owl]

"Blitz I think so highly of you. I didnt think youd think so low of me."

Okay Stolas! Maybe, just MAYBE its because Blitz is the only Imp you respect?! Like I saw how you were handling Pringels your butler, holding him like a fucking cell phone. I saw the dismissive looks youve kept giving Millie and Moxxie. Blitz heard how you kept calling his whole calls "little bittle Imps like you". He also saw how high up youre acting around other demons that are considered "lower class". And how you kept pinching his cheek as if he was some kind of object or child. Or how about when you saved him from the agents and you called him "your impish little plaything" IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?!

Maybe, just MAYBE Blitz has a REALLY fucking good reason to think so low of you!

[do-you-ship-this-book-couple]

Do you ship...

[doggernaut]

It’s that time of year. Looking for a cozy holiday read? I’ve got a holiday fic for every mood...

If you’re in the mood for domestic future fic with a hint of angst

You make me feel like a million bucks, you do (Zimbits, M, 10,729 words)

It’s Jack’s first post-retirement holiday season. He’s looking forward to more time with Bitty, and experiencing the holidays through the eyes of their three-year-old. If only this injury weren’t making things so difficult.

If you’re in the mood for pining friends-to-lovers

Merry Christmas, I’m Yours (Zimbits, T, 27,809 words) (with a fantastic podfic version by @sweatersinthesummer!)

It takes Jack only a couple months after graduation to realize he’s in love with Bitty.

It takes him almost 20 years to actually do something about it.

(Or, five Christmases Jack and Bitty spend together.)

If you’re in the mood for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers

Pucks and Recreation (Zimbits, T, 61,426 words)

Eric Bittle is the director of the City of Samwell’s Parks and Recreation department. He loves everything about his job, including overseeing the city’s municipal ice rink, where generations of kids have learned to skate. Unfortunately, a citywide budget crisis has put Eric’s proposed rink renovations on hold, and out-of-town auditor Jack Zimmermann is insistent that the best course of action would be to shut it down entirely. Too bad Eric isn’t willing to give up his rink without a fight. He’s got a plan. And he may just melt the heart of Samwell’s iciest auditor along the way.

If you’re in the mood for a holiday meet-cute

And Now it’s Christmas Every Day (Zimbits, T, 5475 words)

Jack doesn’t quite know how he ended up here, but it probably started when he agreed to play Santa …

If you’re in the mood for an enemies-to-lovers one-shot 

What Started in Beautiful Rooms  (Zimbits, M, 4491 words)

Eric just wants to do his job, but Jack Zimmermann keeps walking into his kitchen. They can’t keep meeting like this.

If you’re in the mood for Bitty kicking ass at his job, trophy dad Jack, hectic holiday events, and  … Seth Meyers?

I'll Be Home For Christmas (Zimbits, T, 11,626 words)

How much Christmas is too much Christmas? Bitty’s been in Christmas mode for two years, and he’s just ready for it be over.

Or, a month in the life of Bitty’s book tour.

[ragaire-anseo]

Dex has many titles in the Haus; mechanic, plumber, runner up in the Mario Kart debacle of 2016, Eric Bittle’s baking protege and the unlikeliest friend Nursey ever expected to find at Samwell. Nursey never expected to add ‘resident ghost whisperer’ to the list.

Derek remembers the first time he visited the Haus and the full body shiver that came with it. The paint was - and still is - curling off the walls, colours peeling away from each other to reveal the pockmarked brick underneath. The sagging porch roof gave the idea of despairing brows, decorated obnoxiously with a sun lounger and a duckling pool floatie that has long since disappeared. If he were back in New York, he would have crossed to the other side of the street and went on his way without a second glance. He even remembers the photo he sent to his family group chat with the text, ‘can’t wait to move in :)’ and the ensuing uproar on both of his moms parts. It's been two years and he thinks fondly of bumping into every corner, drunken nights spent on questionable floors and days spent in the living room. Every room feels like a blanket that he's never learned to settle under, because the Haus changes every year, whether its appearance or occupants. Nurse only feels he’s beginning to learn this now, halfway through October of junior year and wishes he could escape the churning of time. Instead, he focuses on the residual fondness as he and Chow walk back from classes, each holding a cup of Annie’s coffee and him holding a third.

“Hey, remember when we first saw the Haus? What did you think?” He asks.

“Haunted,” Chowder immediately responds, “Have you ever watched Monster House? I thought every house on the east coast was like that for years.”

Nursey nods, grinning widely. “Great fucking movie-” He’s cut off when Chowder kicks at him and he narrowly avoids a stumble, throwing a glare, “Dude. Not with the coffees.”

“That shit gave me nightmares for weeks as a kid,” Chowder scolds him, a pinch between his brow that deepens when Nursey laughs and he hikes his backpack higher, clearly affronted. “Not like the Haus isn’t haunted anyway, so I wasn’t even wrong.”

“Chow, I’m gonna question our friendship if you actually put some faith in Rans & Holster’s ghost stories.”

“Look I swear-”

“No. Don’t say another word or I'll sic Dex on you. You know how he is with this shit.” 

“He’s not superstitious,” Chow ignores Nursey’s chants calling bullshit remarkably well and continues, “But he definitely believes the Haus is haunted.” 

Continue Reading

[jelliesonline]

Sketchies

Featuring the one and only Bittles B Bombardier

[porcupine-girl]

Ask game fic premise: fake dating to qualify some sort of benefit (reduced gym Costco membership, etc.)

Oh yeah, I would totally write that. Bitty can't afford his own Costco membership, and they've started cracking down on people using other people's cards (they really have), so what is he supposed to do but find a way to get on his rich best friend's?

And that gets him on a few mailing lists as "Mr. Eric Zimmermann," which he feels some kind of way about but isn't going to say anything. And Jack has the high-end membership, too, so now Bitty is getting ads for housewares he will never afford. They go to Jack, because it's his address on the account, but he saves them in case Bitty is interested and Bitty thinks it's very sweet.

"Jack, I can't afford a single thing in here anyhow."

"I could buy it for you if you want."

Bitty: *dies*

Then Jack gets an invitation to, idk, something more exclusive than Costco. *waves hands vaguely* Some rich-people thing that includes exclusive events at all of Providence's best restaurants, members-only workshops with those restaurants' chefs and pastry chefs, that kind of thing.

"Bittle, I'll buy you a membership if you want. It's fine, you know it's not a big deal."

"Jack, the invitation is for you, not your random college buddy you're vouching for. See, it says right here, only the invitee can apply for membership, and once they're accepted they can add one significant other to their membership."

"Oh, so it's like the Costco thing. That's fine."

"It is not! Like! The Costco thing!"

And, y'know, things snowball from there.

Send me a fic premise that sounds like something I would write and I will tell you how accurate it is

[parvuls]

From: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

To: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

Subj: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Eric Bittle,

It has recently been brought to my attention that you are responsible for the pies and various pastries that have been delivered to members of the NHL team, the Providence Falconers. Unfortunately, the high fat content found in pies and the like poses a significant risk to athletes' physical fitness. It is vital for hockey players to maintain optimal physical condition to ensure their peak performance on the ice, and therefore the team’s win.

As it is my duty to oversee their dietary requirements, I ask you to cease the distribution of such food items to the members of the team immediately.

Thank you for your cooperation,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

-

From: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

To: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

Subj: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Dear Mr. Zimmermann,

It’s really nice to make your acquaintance. I actually had to message Alexei just to make sure this wasn’t some prank from one of my friends - I couldn’t believe an actual NHL staff member reached out to me! He assured me you’re the real thing, however (although I’m not sure how you got my school contact info?).

About the pies - you have nothing to worry about. Firstly, I only use the very best products, so anything your boys are getting from me is high quality. Second of all, I explicitly told the boys that I would only make the deliveries on cheat days. They better be smarter than to lie to me. 

I’m a big fan of the Falconers, and I would never do anything to harm their chances! On the contrary, I do believe having a pie waiting for you at the end of a hard week gives more motivation for training. So actually, I’m helping y’all out :) 

You’re very welcome, and good luck against the Devils!

Eric

-

From: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

To: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

Subj: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Bittle,

I appreciate your reply. However, I feel that I have not made my stance clear enough.

Hockey is a very demanding sport. Cheat meals are meant to benefit our players, not provide them with an excuse to consume excessive amounts of sugar and fat. Nine of our players had received deliveries from you in the last 3 months. In my estimations, that comes to about 216 baked pies. 

You must not be aware of this, but regular consumption of saturated fat can lead to heart disease and stroke. I advise you to look into investing your time in less harmful pursuits. I attached a list of recommendations for preferable culinary interests and other hobbies (if you eat even a portion of what you make, I highly recommend taking an interest in physical activity).

Please write back to me with confirmation that you will no longer deliver to members of this team.

Sincerely,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

-

From: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

To: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

Subj: Re: Re: Re: Restriction on Pies and Pastries Supply to PVD Falconers

Mr. Zimmermann,

Unfortunately, I can make no such promises. Your players are counting on me, and I’d hate letting those sweet boys down. But just give it a few more months! You’ll see their game won’t be affected, and we could put all this behind us. In fact, I bet you’ll even see some improvement :)

Thank you for your concern, but it’s honestly not needed. I’m definitely getting enough physical activity, haha. Actually, I’m the captain of a Division I NCAA ice hockey team. And look, I’m doing just fine!

Also, I did take a look at your list. Flourless protein brownies?? Poor man. If that is what you consider a dessert, it’s no wonder you’ve got all these misguided views on pies. I had real brownies delivered just for you this morning, so you can taste the difference yourself. If they’re not on your desk by this afternoon, Thirdy or Poots must’ve gotten to them. Please let me know so I can make another batch.

All the best,

Eric

- 

From: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

To: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

Subj: Final Request to Discontinue Pastry Deliveries 

Mr. Bittle,

You’re a hockey player who bakes a dozen pies a month in his free time? This is unacceptable for a sports team on any level. If possible, I would like the name of your team and your coach. Your staff should be made aware of the risks involved in not supervising their players’ health. I am more than willing to offer my services for a free-of-charge seminar about nutrition. 

I have made my position about the deliveries very clear. If you cannot assure me of your cooperation, I will be forced to speak to security and restrict entry of food into our facilities without my approval.

I don’t wish to resort to forbidding you from future contact with team members, but if it is in the best interest of the team’s success, I will.

Good day,

Jack Zimmermann

Providence Falconers Nutritionist | Providence, RI

-

From: eric.bittle@samwell.edu

To: jackzimmermann@nhl.com

Subj: (no subject)

Dear Jack Zimmermann,

I would like to see you try.

Bless you heart,

Eric Bittle