The clock taunted you, reminding you that this god foresaken party had hours left to go.
Amongst all of the sharp-dressed men and elegant women, you were the only young person in the vincity, no one being under the age of thirty five. It was awkward and boring because you literally had no one to talk to, on a casual-level that was.
Jimin would usually come to the parties just to save you from dying of bordem, but he had other plans tonight. Like almost every teenager on a Friday night, save for your stupid self.
Slowly, you made your way to the staircase and looked around, checking to see if anyone was paying any attention to you so they wouldn’t call out or question your departure. After failing to notice anyone paying attention, you sneakily made your way up the stairs - to your freedom.
On the way up, you couldn’t help but to feel like you were being watched, eyes trained on your back, but you figured it was just paranoia and continued upwards with quick steps.
Tonight your father was hosting one of the parties for his work, which at one point in time used to be glamarous in your eyes. Back when your mother was still alive, you looked forward to the parties because you and her always went shopping for new dresses and got your hair done, pampered yourselves for the special occasion.
Now, they were simply boring and quite honestly inconvenient.
The house that Mars is found in is known to be a place of constant activity in the chart
Generally highly active people. Always on the move and doing things. Aggressive and assertive by nature and this can cause problems and minor accidents if not careful. Much energy is put into themselves and their own personal endeavors so these people can often come off as selfish.
Active focus on making money or purchasing things. Possibly impulsive spenders. Strongly protective of what they own and will fight to keep possessions.
Restless, quick and active thinkers and talkers,constantly on their phones maybe,likes to go on short little trips whether it's to the drugstore down the road or the hotel bar down the stairs
Active in home environment. Always working on something inside the house whether it's fixing something or adding something new for decoration or maintenance. May be active in lawn work or gardening and stay active into old age.
Active in sports activities whether they're playing or attending a game or sport related function, could have pretty active love/sex lives. Whether this is true or not, you actively pursue pleasure and aim to make a good time out of everything.
Workaholics. They Stay on their work and chores and makes sure they're up to date with their responsibilities. Overwork can often bring health issues.
Active involvement with partners. Puts much energy into relationships and partnerships and is always doing things with them. Active and domineering partner who is always on the move.
U fucking somebody bitch. Idk who but I know u fuckin. Aggressive in money matters.Active exploration of the unknown or the occult forces. Strong emotional desires and always pursuing those desires as well.
You're always exploring and traveling whether mentally or physically you want to expand. Usually have a passion for sports, religion, or education and sometimes travel in connection to one of these matters.
You work hard to gain status in your chosen career. Active focus on your career life. Extremely ambitious status seekers. Wants to be the best.
Great energy is put into pursuing goals as well as friendships and group activities. Very socially active. Always has a move.
Low energy placement. Much action is carried on in secret or is subtle and indirect mainly to avoid open confrontation. Religious/Mystical tendencies with the position.
I forgot Kevin’s assistant coach role was informal.
Kevin just ditches the Ravens and isn’t even technically a part of the shitty team with the worst reputation. He just follows them around and sticks to Andrew like glue even though he technically is not a part of the team at all, but he attends every game, bosses everyone around, and sticks to Wymack’s side.
Every day Kevin was with the Foxes before he signed was just bring your kid to work Day.
Tater and Bitty become fast friends and that’s all I’ve ever really wanted
Tater is like an overprotective St. Bernard: large, affectionate, and unable to gauge personal space. Jack’s continually surprised and pleased when Tater manhandles Bitty like a favorite younger brother. They’ve struck up this cheerful, affectionate friendship. Tater watches out for Bitty, but he also genuinely likes him and food. Bitty’s adopted Tater into their friend circle, which Tater needed. Bitty was the only one who’d noticed what an outsider Tater is.
Summary: While supporting your high school’s lacrosse team, you also support the idea of having the opposite team’s Brett Talbot drag you to the locker room and do bad things with you. Apparently, he was supporting the same thing.
You reach your hand out and stroke his bicep gently. You walk closer, showing him your golden eyes, Mason totally oblivious to you, “You’ll do great. Liam? Look at me. You’re going to do fine. Scott trusts you.”
“Okay.” He nods, sighing. You shake your head, grinning as your eyes return to their natural color. He looks back at the player he hates the most, Brett. You couldn’t help but join Mason’s side, getting a better view of his beautiful, toned body.
“I don’t care if he’s a foot taller than me. I think I could take him.” Liam says, as he watches Brett put on his shirt.
“Yeah…” Mason says, in a daze. Liam turns to look at him again, before staring at You and Mason.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What?” You and Mason ask in unison, looking at your friend who raises his eyebrows and bites his lip, “Me? Agreeing with you. I’m being agreeable.” Mason answers, nodding. You all turn to face Brett again, who is putting on his gear over the green shirt.
Angrily, he turns to look at you two again, “You think he’s hot don’t you?” He demands, his face contorting.
“No!” You both answer. “I mean…”
“No. Not at all.” Mason glares at you, “No way!” He pauses, “Maybe. Yeah, maybe a little.” Brett looks at you, specifically you, and your cheeks tint in the slightest, thanking that it’s too dark to see, and Liam is too bad at Chemo-signals to feel the want radiating from you.
“He wants to destroy me.” You roll your eyes.
“I think you could definitely take him… and then… give him, to me.” Liam grins, looking down and then back up at you two, who are starting to bicker about who gets who.
“Nah, just go out there and kick their smug, prep-school asses man.”
“Right.” They fist bump, before Liam pulls you into a hug. Liam pulls the mask over his head, and walks away, running onto the field.
“He’s mine.” You snarl.
“Bet?” He asks, as you go to sit on the bleachers. Brett glances at you, and all you can think about is his strong, warm body leaning onto yours, while he kisses you feverishly. You could almost picture the smirk he was giving you now, on his face as he trails down your body. You glance over at Mason, a smirk of your own lacing your lips. He glares at you.
“He’s dreamy, Mason, but I think he’s into girls.” He stomps on your foot, causing your body to flail down to the lower bleachers, lying on your back and groaning in pain.
Halfway through the game you could feel the field getting more and more tense. Brett was targeting Liam, who was trying to stay away from Garrett, who was the supposed assassin trying to kill all the supernaturals in Beacon Hills. You kept looking at Scott for direction, but there was little you could do- you didn’t play lacrosse. Every chance you got, you went over and talked to Garrett, talking about Liam’s performance and whatnot. You had tried to be friends with him, since the whole thing about murders, it still could be someone else.
“He’s doing really good.” You nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you, his hand resting on your hip.
“Yeah. That other one, Brett. Liam don’t like him.”
“Why’s he givin’ you googly eyes?”
“Dunno. Hey- I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay? I’ll talk to you in a bit.”
“Course.” He nods. You make your way to the locker room, completely side-stepping the bathroom. When you sigh, leaning against the lockers, you feel a tap on your shoulder. Jumping, you look at Violet, Garrett’s girlfriend a personal friend of yours.
“Hey.” You smile.
“What’s wrong? You okay?”
“I’m fine, just needed a breather. Kinda cold outside, and crowded. Loud.”
“Really shouldn’t effect you. I mean, not since you’re a werewolf and all.” Suddenly the atmosphere changed, and you were backing away from her. She was the assassin. It was her.
“Violet… look, we can talk, okay? You don’t have to do this.”
“You’re worth a lot of money, almost two million, (y/n).”
“Please, Violet.” She brings her fist up and connects it with your jaw, your eyes turning yellow, but you refrain from wolfing out, and mauling her to death. She unhooks her necklace from around her neck, and wraps it around yours, when you’re on the ground. She pulls it tight, and turns it on. You start choking, the heat burning through your skin. Suddenly, the necklace is ripped away, and so is her body. Across the room she goes, while you look at the attacker. You cough, managing to make out Brett’s tall figure, growling at her. His nails extend to claws as you try and stand up, making it to your feet in little time. She starts running, and when Brett takes after her, you grab his arm and pull him back.
“No.” You shake your head, “Not here.”
“You’re a wolf.” He says, holding your arms, “You can’t tell anyone that I am too. Please. Not even Scott, or Liam.”
“How do you know about Liam.”
“I can sense it.”
“Yeah so can I. How come I can’t sense you?”
“My pack and I like to be hidden. We don’t like being figured out.”
“Thank you.” You nod towards the door, where he had entered moments ago.
“You’re welcome.” He smiles, looking your body up and down. The mark around your neck heals slowly, which he notices. “Are you hurt?” He asks, his arm reaching out to cup your neck, his thumb dragging across your jaw. You lick your lips, before pulling your bottom one between your teeth.
“No.” You whisper, looking into his eyes through your eyelashes. He steps closer, his other hand landing on the other side of your neck. Your heartbeat quickens, as he moves closer, your feet backing up instinctively, until your back is pressed against the lockers. When his chest is leaning into yours, he takes a deep breath, trying to control himself.
“Please.” You whimper, reaching your hands to grab his forearms. He grabs your neck harder, before pressing his lips to yours. Your eyes flutter closed, before he steps closer, sliding up your body. He crouched slightly, due to the hight difference between you two.
“Fuck, Brett.” You gasp, as he pulls your shirt above your head. You glance up at him with passion, before jumping up, your legs wrapping around him. His hands stay by his sides, not touching you in the slightest. He found it incredibly sexy, that you could just practically stick to him. You look down onto his pale, gorgeous face, biting your lip. You lean down, as his hands reach your ass, squeezing. He pushes you against the benches, leaning over. He stands and admires you. You unbutton your jeans, sliding the zipper down seductively, before one hand slips beneath the cloth of your underwear. You rub yourself carefully, sliding a hand up to cup your left breast.
He raises his eyebrows, “Damn, (Y/n).” He moans, ripping your thighs apart, and pulling your jeans down. He moves your panties to the side, and licks your clit. You gasp, fingers threading through his blonde hair. He shoves two fingers into your opening, curling them instantly. You buck wildly, “Mmm, you like that?” The vibrations send you into overdrive as he mumbles the dirty words.
“Shit, Brett! Please!”
“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head, before releasing your clit. He pulls away, wiping his hands on his shorts, “I’ve got a game to attend.” You bounce up, eyes glowing bright yellow in anger and disappointment.
“You did not.”
“Not what?” He smirks, running a hand through his hair.
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Gives you a reason to come back, am I right?” He opens his arms to prove a point. You glare, pulling your pants and shirt back on. You fix your hair, as he watches you in amusement. You storm passed him, your shoulder bumping into his on ‘accident.’ He knocks backwards at your strength, before chuckling. He walks behind you until you reach the doors to the field, smacking your ass once, and walk away. You yelp, watching him wink back at you. He pulls his helmet back on, and runs to the coach, making some excuse about the bathroom and feeling lightheaded. You watch in amazement, before running to Mason, who raises his eyebrows at you.
“I’m telling Liam.” He gets up, about to run over to your best friend. You shove him down.
“Tell him what?”
“That you had sex with Brett!” He runs away, and you sigh.
“We didn’t have sex.” You bite your lip, looking at the man who left you breathless in the locker room, “Not yet.”
What if Bitty and Jack came out before the end of Bitty’s senior year. And basically SMH games are attended by a fuckin’ brigade of gay hockey fans who are stoked as hell that the hot blond one is One Of Us and beyond thrilled at the ZimmerBittle narrative that’s played out on ESPN and in the Swallow and across social media.
They’ve followed the team this whole time ofc but they just go wild the week the news breaks. They show up to an away game decked the fuck out. This is a nice counterpoint to the tiny knot of deplorables protesting outside the arena. Bitty forgets all about the awful signs they saw coming off the bus, because the self-styled Samwell Hockey Gays / Official Eric Bittle Fan Club have a ginormous rainbow flag which they’re basically using as a huge communal cape and signs that read “YO, CALL ME ERIC BITTLE!” and “HE CAN PLAY” and “OH CAPTAIN OUR CAPTAIN” with a really cute rendering of Bitty on it.
Jack comes to one of Bitty’s last home games and has a really weird exchange while he’s waiting for the bathroom. A guy wearing a #15 shirsey keeps giving him the side eye, and then when Jack is leaving the restrooms a few minutes later, the same guy engages Jack in a confusing conversation that somehow involves thanking Jack for “having the guts to be the first out player in the NHL” while also delivering a shovel talk the likes of which Jack has never experienced. The words “Eric Bittle is a perfect human being” actually leave this kid’s mouth and while Jack agrees, he’s pretty sure Bitty doesn’t know this guy—
“Oh, bro,” Nursey says later at the after-kegster. “You met a Samwell Hockey Gay. The Bitty Brigade, my friend. They’re literally all in love with Bitty and there’re like three of them who are obsessed with Tango, don’t ask. Anyway, that fucker who checked Bits last month?”
“Chyeah. Those guys drove to Brown and destroyed that guy’s car with shaving cream and shit.”
“Oh!” Chowder chimes in to their left. “Are we talking about the SHG’s? They’re so nice! They watch all of Bitty’s videos and sometimes they bring snacks to kegsters!”
Dex snorts on the right. “They’re terrifying. There’s a couple girls, too. They were Lardo fanatics, apparently, and they just sort of joined up with the Bitty Brigade last year. Vicious in the stands. I heard one of them dumped a basket of nachos over some guy’s head for calling Lardo a puck bunny one time.”
“Huh,” Jack says. The four of them stand there, leaning against the wall with their red cups in hand, and watch as Bitty comes down from a kegstand across the room. He gets his feet under him without so much as a stumble and laughs as he’s slapped on the back by a loyal group of tadpoles and the even younger guys he calls Frogs the Third.
There’s a tall, dark-haired guy standing by, clearly waiting to chat with Bitty. Bitty grins and his cheeks are flushed from being upside down and a little tipsy. Tall Guy leans down to say something in Bitty’s ear. Jack clears his throat and pushes off the wall. “I’m just gonna—”
Dex snorts again. “Uh huh.”
Jack makes his way across the room so he can just sort of stand behind and slightly to the left of Bitty, aiming for casual, supportive. He’s a casual, supportive boyfriend, here to make sure no one is bothering anybody. He notes that he’s at least an inch taller than that guy, and drinks his soda, satisfied.
Later, he’ll mention the fan club and Bitty will look at him with absolutely zero comprehension.
“Uh,” Jack tries. “The Samwell Hockey Gays? Or, I guess the Bitty Brigade? It’s like a thing.”
Bitty giggles and gives Jack a drunken slap on the shoulder. “Oh it is not, don’t be silly.”
So anyway, after Bitty graduates, the Samwell Hockey Gays will occasionally make a quick trip up to Providence to check out a Falconer game, blow off some steam, and maybe catch a glimpse of their (recently engaged) idol in the family section. Half of them are Zimmermann fans, and the other half eventually, grudgingly, come around to not hating him on principle (”Does he even KNOW how lucky he is?”) HE DOES, GUYS!
The Tony Tangredi Faction takes off like a rocket and flourishes in the space Bitty leaves behind, much to Whiskey’s dismay.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” Steve says as the two of you walk together to the concession stand. “I owe you.”
“No you don’t.”
He takes your hand, blue eyes steadily staring back at you. “Y/N, you voluntarily chose to come to this game with me so I wouldn’t be stuck with Bucky and Sam. I owe you, big time.”
He makes a good point when he phrases it like that. No one likes to go out alone with Sam and Bucky. They value their sanity far too much for that. “Buy me some snacks and you can consider your debt repaid.”