Hello! I just read all of your stories and I love them!! You write so well! Anyways, I was wondering if you could possibly write a fic where Jack is watching one of the Samwell games (after he graduated) and Bitty gets checked really badly and he freaks out?
Okay so this is a liiiittle different than what you requested, but I couldn’t not write it when I thought of it. Warning for some unfriendly chirping, but nothing too extreme.
Bitty was having a great game. He was dodging check left and right, and had even managed to dole out a couple of nudges back. He’d scored the goal that put Samwell on the board late in the first period off a sweet pass from Ransom and kicked the third off with an assist on Tango’s backhand goal. Shitty had hardly sat down in his seat the entire game, cheering and waving his new favorite sign “GIMME THE 4-11 TONIGHT” and getting a dusting of glitter all over the hair and fries of the guy in front of them. Jack, for his part, was bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands twitching at his sides when he wasn’t using them to gesticulate wildly as he cheered on his boyfriend and their friends.
Meanwhile, down on the ice, Bitty was pissed. One of the d-men on the other team had been chirping them in an especially unfriendly way all night, and it was getting on his last nerve. Usually, Bitty had a pretty thick skin when it came to that though. Years of torment at the hands of bullies in Georgia and being probably the smallest guy in the NCAA made him good at shaking it off. He’d close his eyes, take a deep breath, and remember the day he’d finally told his MooMaw what had really been giving him such a tough time at school. She’d set down her cup of tea and leaned over the table to pinch Eric’s chin between her weathered fingers, and told him, “You’ve just gotta turn the other cheek baby,” and then her eyes took on a wicked gleam as she added, “and let ‘em kiss your ass.”
We just found out about Tinsel Teeth via the below video where they end up looking like a bunch of naked, grimey Aborigines people. If you’d like to see a some awkward punk dudes unsure about what to do when a sweaty woman starts grinding up on them and screaming in their faces, this is the band for you.