Okay, but do you ever just think about how far Jack Zimmermann has come? Because I do.
Jack Zimmermann, the little boy who everyone thought was too fat, too slow, not enough like his parents to succeed.
Jack Zimmermann, the scared kid who had to go to therapy because he had the hopes (and the expectations, and the judgments) of thousands resting on his shoulders before he even turned thirteen, and that was a weight far too heavy to bear.
Jack Zimmermann, the teenager, anxious and always pushing, pushing, pushing himself to be more and more, hiding the parts of himself he knew the world wouldn’t like, relying on his best friend (his first love? his fuckbuddy? all of the above?) to help him through it all, even though he knew it wasn’t enough, that he could never be what they wanted, no matter how hard he tried. Who thought it was hopeless. Who thought he couldn’t do it, who thought he wasn’t worth it.
Jack Zimmermann, the boy who lost it all.
Jack Zimmermann, the boy who disappeared.
Jack Zimmermann, the one learning to put himself back together.
Jack Zimmermann, the boy who could never stop pushing, figuring out how to take breaks when he needed to.
Jack Zimmermann, the person learning to be kind to himself, to listen to his mind and body and know what he needs.
Jack Zimmermann, the one healing.
Jack Zimmermann, the peewee coach, letting himself enjoy the sport he had long forgotten was supposed to be fun.
Jack Zimmermann, the college student, because he had never quite taken the time to learn like he wanted to (after all, school had been secondary to hockey since he was nine), and he knows that this would be good for him. Something decidedly normal in a very abnormal life.
Jack Zimmermann, the quiet, awkward freshman who had some trouble fitting in at first, but somehow had gotten a loud, abrasive best friend attached to him, willing to fight anyone who talked bad about him.
Jack Zimmermann, the young man feeling more and more at ease as he spent more time at Samwell, who was elected captain as just a sophomore. (It’s a little scary, but people depending on him doesn’t feel quite as heavy as it used to.)
Jack Zimmermann, the dude living in practically a frat house with defensemen who sing Broadway duets and a best friend who never has clothes on and an artist who’s cooler than them all and a tiny, blond baker with a southern accent as sweet as the pies he bakes.
Jack Zimmermann, the one who realizes he’s finally found his family.
Jack Zimmermann, the photographer, the history nerd, the not-so-great baker, the chirper, the wrestler, the hair-ruffler, the coffee-spiller, the friend.
Jack Zimmermann, the one who was brave, the one who was passionate, the one who sprinted across campus the day he graduated.
Jack Zimmermann, the one who said goodbye by beginning something new.
Jack Zimmermann, who has the career he’s dreamed of, who has a degree in what he’s passionate about, who has a camera to take photos of the things he cares about, who has a boyfriend he loves so much (like he was always afraid he could never have), who has anxiety but isn’t ruled by it any more, who has an apartment in Providence and notes on his fridge and a bunny on his kitchen counter.
Jack Zimmermann, who turned from a boy scared of life into a man who loves it.
Once Gregory knows how comfortable or not someone is with physical contact he can become the most Awful hair ruffler. He ruffles Miles’s hair twice a day. He ruffles the fur on animals. He’d ruffle the judge’s hair if he had any. He’ll ruffle the prosecution’s hair, he’ll ruffle his defendant’s hair, he’ll ruffle his own hair. Grossberg asks him why he’s messing up his hair again “I’m a dad Mr Grossberg it’s what I do.”
dark jersey, show us the forbidden post-ROTJ fluff.
by popular demand, post-ROTJ, The Jersey Way:
anakin’s hugs are steel traps. dad expresses his love with sheer force, and once he decides it’s TIME FOR LOVE, you better clear out your schedule because you’re here forever
luke is only ever annoyed with them when he has to go do things - otherwise, he really, really loves them
in the situation that anakin gets magically removed from the suit and somehow gets healed, luke and anakin are constantly brushing shoudlers/hugging/touching. (you know, even with the suit, luke would make that effort - anakin would just be less likely to reciprocate/initiate it)
luke stays with anakin through all of his various surgeries, speaking to him and soothing him through the force because luke skywalker is the real MVP
after they start training together in the force, their bond gets really, really strong. they accidentally share dreams sometimes - which is sometimes pretty yikes
anakin is basically blind at this point, and has been using the force to get around for years. he’s unwilling to get corrective surgery, or wear corrective eye wear, because he’s apathetic about what happens to him - this leads to luke regularly grabbing anakin by the hand and leading him around to make sure dad doesn’t trip over anything
luke mother-hens anakin into eating and caring for himself - he hasn’t had to shower in 20 years, and that has an effect - but anakin retaliates by turning his protective instinct up to eleven. it’s a passive-aggressive war on who can remind you to eat your vegetables the most
anakin is a hair-ruffler, and this might be the one physical expression of love that annoys luke. this makes anakin do it all the more. he also rests his hand on luke’s shoulder a lot, because luke’s at perfect hand-resting-height. if he’s not messing it up, anakin fixes luke’s hair - think of swan preening its baby’s feathers
luke speaks up for anakin when his vocal chords are really feeling the burn - they’re utterly destroyed, and the facial scarring still poses a problem. so for the time before they can configure a non-obtrusive vocoder, anakin’s voice is thready and quiet, and luke is his voice
maintaining his own prosthetics feels too much like self-surgery, and anakin usually forgets to do it anyway. so luke takes it upon himself. they take it very, very slow at first, because anakin’s still sensitive about it
whenever luke has to leave for extended periods of time, anakin gets mopey, and hangs out in luke’s room a lot. he probably cleans/fixes/upgrades luke’s ship, too
anakin gets huffy when luke doesn’t clean his room, and then he goes and does it himself because you have to do it right, luke! meanwhile, his room is a disaster zone
there’s waaaay more but this was getting a little long, ahaha
i can’t seem to stop doing these, and i definitely am not sorry
neither can i stop from writing clarke as a swearing fiend – still not sorry
when clarke and bellamy do eventually find each other, i imagine it to be in the middle of some big shit show, like “oh great, it’s awesome to see you bellamy, but could you please move a little to the left i need to shoot a bitch,”
that bitch will be one of the mountain men (or women)
also i one day want to write the background to the line ‘and once, briefly, a sweater’ which might make sense if you make the (probably terrible) decision to continue reading this
She hadn’t exactly been picturing this…sentimental reunion, because while her and Bellamy shared a lot of things in the time before the dropship explosion (see: quarantined area, immeasurable responsibilities, and once, briefly, a sweater), fond feelings weren’t often among them. Even when she’d liked Bellamy she’d still held a brief bit of annoyance for, well, pretty much everything their situation forced them to be.
Still. She wasn’t expecting smiles and embraces and cheesy lines, but she certainly hadn’t been expecting the first words out of his mouth to be, “What the fuck,”
With ten minutes and counting Jason sat on his bed waiting patiently. He hadn’t done much that day so this was already the high light and it hadn’t even happened yet. With a groan he got up and stretched, stiff from his prolonged exposure to that position. He peeked in the mirror and and ruffled his hair so it didn’t look like he’d been attacked by the masked hair ruffler or something. Jason peeked at the clock to see how much time he had left before his visitor joined him. It was funny how he was so eager today when few days before such a proposition would be met with much more calm. It was like a switch and been flipped in his brain, not that he minded. It left him with a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. Deciding he’d done enough peeking for the time being he sat back down on his bed and tried to wait in a more sedate fashion.