October 21st - Costume Malfunction

Bitty had been pretty sure the bunny costume had been the right choice, even if Tango thought he was a cat, but then Tango wasn’t the sharpest skate. And then Jack hadn’t responded. Bitty’s mind raced through scenarios - the picture he’d sent Jack was too risque and Jack had been standing next to someone and was now getting chewed out for being bi, or Jack thought he looked ridiculous and didn’t know how to tell him, or Jack’s phone was dead and he wasn’t ever going to respond because he’d dropped it down the dish disposal or -

Bitty was overthinking it. It was just, he’d dressed as a Zimmermann puck bunny, and if Holster wanted to give Jack shit for spending kegsters getting sucked off by Zimmermann puck bunnies (which Bitty now knew to be an entirely false accusation), and he wanted Jack to acknowledge that fact. Wanted him to acknowledge that he was the only Zimmermann puck bunny.

But now Jack wasn’t answering his texts.

Bitty retreated up to his room a little while later and tried calling him. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and then answered.

“Jack honey?” Bitty asked. He tried not to sound concerned but it didn’t work very well.

“Hey Bits,” Jack said. He sounded tired and stressed and in the background it sounded like there might be an espresso machine running.

“Jack? Where are you?” Bitty asked.

Jack was silent for a moment. “Starbucks.”

“Why are you at Starbucks?” Bitty asked.

“North of Pawtucket,” Jack added.

Bitty blinked. “Where north of Pawtucket?”

Jack hesitated before answering. “Attleboro?”

“Jack, what are you doing in Attleboro?” Bitty asked, sitting on his bed. He couldn’t stop playing with the ears of his costume.

“I was driving to Samwell,” Jack said. He sounded disappointed in himself.

Bitty exhaled sharply. “Why? It’s ten pm honey.”

“I know,” Jack said. “I just – you sent the picture of the costume? And god I just really miss you and want to—well, you know.”

Bitty couldn’t suppress his grin. “Do I? What do you want to do sweetheart?”

“I’m sitting in a Starbucks, Bittle, I’m not going to tell you,” Jack protested.

“Why not?” Bitty asked. “Is it dirty?”


“Would I have to take the costume off?” Bitty asked.

“Jesus Bits,” Jack groaned. Bitty could perfectly imagine the red on his face. And there was poor Jack sitting in a Starbucks just outside of Rhode Island.

“Well? Would I?” Bitty prompted.

“…no,” Jack admitted.

Bitty could hear the filthy tone in his own cackle. “Why Mr Zimmermann, do I need to bring the costume with me next weekend?”

“Only if you want to,” Jack said.

“Honey, if you think I wore this for any reason besides getting you all hot and bothered, you are so wrong,” Bitty replied.

On the other end of the phone, Jack groaned. “Why are you doing this to me, Bittle?”

Even though Bitty knew full well Jack couldn’t see him, he shrugged. “It’s nice to be reminded someone actually wants me. Like, a lot.”

Jack swore in French and Bitty thought he could hear Jack’s forehead hit the table at the Starbucks twenty minutes away.          

“I want you all the time,” Jack said. “It’s actually kind of problematic.”

Bitty laughed again. “So what are you doing in a Starbucks?”

“I started driving to come see you and then realised it wasn’t a good idea,” Jack said.

Bitty tapped his finger, trying to think it through. “Well, how about you come meet me at the corner, and then I’ll tell the boys and Lardo that I’m goin’ home with someone, and I can take the train back tomorrow?”

“Really?” Jack asked, his voice significantly brighter.

“Really,” Bitty replied. He could hear the sound of a door opening and Jack’s truck starting. “I want you all the time too, sugar.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Jack said. “Love you.”

It still made Bitty’s heart flutter in surprise whenever Jack said it, but Bitty wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Love you too,” he said. “I’ll see you soon, honey.”

Roof Top of a House on the Border at Liesenstrasse, Volkspolizei Watching House Evictions, 10/21/1961 [Translated Title]

Series: Photographs Relating to World War II, the Cold War, and U.S. - West German Diplomatic, Economic, and Military Contacts, ca. 1951 - 1994. Record Group 306: Records of the U.S. Information Agency, 1900 - 2003

Two months following the creation of the Berlin Wall on August 13, 1961.

Read more via the @jfklibrary at: The Cold War in Berlin - John F. Kennedy Presidential Library & Museum.

Ch. 3 - Love Is Kinda Crazy (With A Spooky Little Boy Like You)

A continuous multi-chapter story written for 13 Days of Halloween.
A03.  Read from the beginning here.  M.

Jack is contemplating what to do after retiring from the NHL, so he and Bitty take some time off to enjoy autumn in New England.  They hadn’t counted on the scary stuff that would happen, both of the Halloween variety and of a more personal nature.

 Thanks to my beta, @perryavenue, for her support and skills, and to @omgericzimmermann for organizing this challenge.

(Prompt:  Costume malfunctions)


Shitty and Lardo’s place in Cambridge is remarkably similar to the apartment Shitty had during law school. Sure, it’s a little bit closer to the Porter Square MBTA stop, so he doesn’t have to walk so far to catch the T and commute to work, but it has the same slightly crooked porch, the same empty beer cans in the living room, and the same junk food in the kitchen.  At least today the junk food has a theme.

Bitty, of course, has done his part by baking a plethora of Halloween treats.  He and Jack have been baking back in Providence for days, doing their best not to eat too many of the sugary snacks before the day of the party. On the drive up to Boston, however, Jack had persuaded Bitty to let him sample the caramel corn, and one thing led to another until almost every plastic container and foil wrapped package had been opened at the edge to allow them to do a final taste test.

If there is one thing Bitty is enjoying about post-NHL Jack, it is his boyfriend’s newfound willingness to eat more than one bite of Bitty’s creations.  Because, face it, his cooking deserves a dedicated audience.

High on marshmallow ghosts and peanut butter goblins, they arrive at Shitty and Lardo’s place in the late afternoon.  They park around the corner, grateful to have found a spot on the street at all, and lug their bags and backpacks down the street.  Shitty is on the porch, and he lets out a whoop when he sees them.

“Bros!  Finally!”  He jumps down off a stepladder and embraces them both, Bitty squirming to avoid damage to the baked goods.  “Have I ever told you how much I love you beautiful men?  How much I fucking need you?”

Keep reading

My Heart

Day 21: Noise

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing.  It’s just the sound of my heart stopping.”

Oh thank whatever higher being that may or may not exist, Jack found him.  He finally found him.  Dripping wet, freezing, and dragging himself out of a raging river, but alive.

Flinging the flashlight down, Jack fell to his knees to help Mark pull himself out of the water.

“Heat.  Heat.  We have to slowly get you warm.  The weather’s not too cold yet, so it’s not too bad, but you could get sick.  Oh, God what have I done?”

“Y-you?” Mark’s teeth were chattering and his body was curled into itself to hide from the cold, “I was the one who slipped.  I should have been paying attention.”

“Oh, my beloved,” Jack swept a hand through Mark’s dripping hair, feeling like he was going to cry, “If I had been more careful with you, you wouldn’t even be out here.”

Jack took a deep breath and pushed the emotions away, closing his eyes as he did so, “But we’ll have more time for that later.”

Mark looked up at him with sad bloodshot eyes, “We will?  You want me to come home?”

Jack smiled gently and said, “Of course I do.  You are my love.  I feel like I stitched my own heart within you, because you’re the only one that can and will ever hold it.”

Jack sighed, then lifted himself to his feet, “Come one, we have to warm you up before you catch something.”

With his help, Mark was on his feet with an arm slung around Jack’s shoulders.

They made their way back slowly, picking through the forest carefully as to not hurt Mark’s sore and possibly broken and battered body.  Jack wasn’t so sure, he would have to check him as soon as he was warm.

As their house came into view, Jack let out a sigh and pushed them forward, determined to get Mark into warm safety.

A rustle in the trees above made him stumble and jerk, “What was that?” he asked, looking over at Mark’s too close and far too cold face.

The leaves shuddered once again before parting to reveal a small owl, who hooted at Jack, spread its wings, then took to the night sky.  Jack watched the moonlight shimmer in its feathers.

“Oh nothing.” Mark commented, “It’s just the sound of my heart stopping.”

Jack hip checked him very lightly and dragged him the rest of the way to the house, “Don’t talk about yourself that way.”

Mark smiled faintly at him, “I’m not that worried, this heart is strong.  After all, you just told me that it was yours.”

There isn’t a lot of talk about what happened 50 years ago today in a small village in the Welsh Valleys, but there should be.

At 9:15 in the morning, in the village of Aberfan, there was a collapse of a colliery spoil tip above the village. 

144 people died that day, 28 adults and a 116 children, the debris hit the school.

I know Wales is a small country, and the village affected is even smaller, but can people please take a moment to understand and empathise with this horrific event from history.

Thank you