Zimbits AU where your world is black and white until you hear your soulmate laugh


Jack knows his parents’ story off by heart.

Bob had been on the ice at an away game. The crowd was screaming; it was overtime. Things had been a bit tense. 

And then Bob had put a puck in the net of the opposition and that was it. The disappointed home audience had fallen into a quiet grumble after some polite clapping. Many hands were slapped on Bob’s back as the team skated towards the edge of the ice. Bob had been just about to leave the rink, and then-

A laugh. A snorting, wonderful laugh, and his world filled with color.

He had frozen where he stood, ears caught on the sound of that laugh and the voice that followed.

“I told you, didn’t I? No one’s got it like Bad Bobby Z!”

It was his turn to let out a laugh and he did, with gusto. His voice boomed so loud it had seemed to reverberate around the arena, every head swiveling to the source of the noise.

Every time he told that story, Bob swore blind he heard his soulmate’s gasp in the ensuing silence. Alicia would roll her eyes fondly, stating that she did not gasp, thank you very much, and that the dreadful nickname she’d called him had been popular among hockey fans at the time. 

Whatever the truth, they’d introduced themselves moments later and were married within the year. It was like that, with soulmates. Instantaneous.

Jack’s not heard that story since before the Draft. He knows people think if he’d found his soulmate before- before, he wouldn’t have done it. But people tend to over romanticize things out of habit. In the end, soulmates and laughter and colors had very little to do with how he ended up here.

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Shoutout to people with BFRB's

Shoutout to those who peel the skin off their lips until it’s red and bleeding

Shoutout to the ones who pull out their hair

Shoutout to the ones who peel skin off of themselves trying to fix something

Shoutout to those who have to keep reopening their scabs

Shoutout to those who bite their tung or cheek

Shoutout to those who use their tung to scratch the back of their throats raw

Shoutout to those who can’t stop scratching their skin

Shoutout to those who do it consciously

And shoutout to those who do it without noticing until it’s too late

Just shoutout to all of you wonderful people, I know it’s hard to stop. And sometimes it may seem impossible

I’m always here for you


Here’s my new synth single! Video editing by me, like and share if you’d buy that for a dollar!

from teenage romance to losing it all, to desperate pleas and moving on

a mix for kent parson, inspired by idrilka’s series “for all the perfect things that i doubt”

our time now - plain white t’s // halo - starset // angels on the moon - thriving ivory // without him - christina grimmie // i’m not the one - 3OH!3 // goodbye, goodnight - mae // echo - jason walker // over and over - three days grace // breathe me - sia // decode - paramore // gone forever - three days grace // so far (ft. arnor dan) - olafur arnalds // so soon - marianas trench // gasoline - halsey // the boys of summer - the ataris // never be the same - red // dying to live again - hedley // happiness - needtobreathe //

+1 for kent and swoops // stay with me - diamond eyes & christina grimmie

[ listen ][ art credit ]

See Bitty’s pretty ripped. He found a local farmers market that operates year round when he was walking around one morning, missing morning checking practice with Jack. He goes to the farmers market on weekends and comes back with four bags of organic butter and fresh produce. It’s the only time he’ll get up early voluntarily. And then he misses a week and he mopes and the pies are just ok, not great. (Not that that stops his Hausmates from eating everything in sight, but still.) So the next weekend, when he again can’t go because he’s so far behind in a class, Rans and Holster take it upon themselves to stumble through the market. They come home with four types of honey, an armful of Pink Cripps, and a bizarre vegetable no one can identify but the look on Bitty’s face is so adorable and grateful they feel pretty damn good about their expedition. So the next weekend there’s three of them and Bitty comes home with even more ingredients and the pies that week are weird but swawesome! The ginger-pear tarte is a hit and Jack makes noises over Skype about not getting any goodies. It just becomes a thing, where whoever wants to can join Bitty on Saturday mornings. They chirp Bitty when he gets so excited he squeals over peaches. They jostle over who gets to pick what kind of pie is getting made that week. Bitty lets Chowder win suspiciously often… And when Bitty visits Jack, he only has to look at a flyer for a farmers market before Jack’s grinning fondly at him and dragging him into a kiss before promising they can stop by. Jack’s totally happy to wake up early to get the freshest berries. Bitty makes pretty little jam tarts and makes out with his boyfriend while they bake. Thank god for oven timers because Bitty doesn’t want to let go of Jack for a moment. Jack stands behind Bitty, arms wrapped around him, just completely at peace while the tarts cool the required ten minutes. They eat them in bed, crumbs on the covers and sticky, purple mouths.

Jack’s apartment is tiny. His kitchen is tiny. It’s a miracle that Jack fits, even more surprising when Jack and Bitty manage to squeeze in there.

Thus, it’s only a matter of time before some accident happens.

Jack’s fishing in the fridge and nagging, “Bits, you gotta leave me more than a teaspoon of milk. I need strong bones to survive my games.”

Bitty laughs and checks the oven to see if it has reached temperature yet. “You mean you need to survive Tater hugs.” 

“Sure that too,” Jack says, distracted by reaching deep in the fridge to find a bottle of juice he knows is there. He snags it and whirls around.

Bitty grabs his pie and steps back to open the oven. Only to trip and find himself falling.

Jack practically throws his juice to the side to fling one arm under Bitty and grab the pie with the other.

Bitty stares at him wide-eyed, dipped back over Jack’s firm arm and then grins. Jack slides the pie onto the counter without even looking and leans down to kiss Bitty, Bitty’s hands in his hair. He loses himself for a moment in the sugar-sweet smell and taste of his boyfriend, then props Bitty back upright. Bitty stands there, palms pressed to Jack’s chest, smiling fondly up at him until he feels Jack’s heart thumping under his fingertips. “Good Lord, honey, did I scare you?”

“Nah, you just make my heart race, Bits.” (That’s a damn lie, but there’s no reason for Bitty to feel bad about Jack inadvertently tripping him.) He winks and is gratified by Bitty’s immediate blush. Bitty kisses him again and then turns around to look at the pie.

“I can’t believe you saved the pie too.” 

Jack slots in behind him to look over his shoulder at it, frowning. His thumbprint is blatantly evident on one of the lattice strips. He moves to smooth it out, but Bitty catches his hand. “Leave it, handsome. It’s a good reminder. Besides,” he slides one thumb down his hipbone to reveal a bruise, “now me an’ my pie match.”

Jack’s face only crumples more. “Merde. Why didn’t you say anything? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Bitty cups his face with two soft and lightly floured hands. “It’s a good reminder, Jack. I promise. I get to go home, and sit in the Haus and be able to feel you with me while I’m eating my special slice of pie that you marked.”

Jack lets Bitty kiss him before breaking away. “Wait, the whole pie is going home with you?” He tries not to whine, but its maple sugar crusted and its his favorite

Bitty laughs. “No, just that slice. That one is all mine. Now go on, you’re gonna be late for practice. And tell Tater I said if he’s real nice, I’ll temper some chocolate for those apricot chocolate things he likes.”

“He still thinks you’re my girlfriend.” Jack makes a face.

“And, until we come out, I’m ok with them knowing you’re taken in one way or another so they don’t try to set you up with some puck bunny.,” Bitty says pragmatically, patting Jack on the head with faux-sympathy.

“You’re the only puck bunny for me.” Jack kisses Bitty one more time and then grabs his dented plastic juice bottle off the floor. He laces up his shoes and on the way out the door, shouts back, “I should be back soonish today. It’s supposed to be a light workout day.”

Bitty goes back to his pie, still smiling. It’s perfect.

It’s not until Jack gets to the rink and gets chirped by all the guys that he realizes he has flour in his hair.

As I am approaching finals week, the stress has increased. So join me in imagining Dex working himself into the ground for finals, barely eating and peering at his computer screen with a perpetual frown.

He doesn’t even look up when Nursey walks into the room, but he most certainly does notice when Nursey leans over his shoulder to look at what he’s working on. He hums and watches Dex type lines of code until Dex wriggles and says, “I have to work, quit watchin’ me.”

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