t is for tater

ok shit i wanna talk about this. there is NO way you’d get a fruit cup, a cookie, mashed potatoes, AND peas. you get one of those. two if you buy the cookie separately. and the fucking nuggets??? TEN?????? show me a public school where they serve you TEN nuggets. we got 4. that shit was like the holy grail of lunches. kids were tempted to pick em out of the trash. don’t even get me started on the tater tot economy with these lunches, those things were pretty much worth their weight in gold. i’d see people buy three lunches just for the side of tater tots, and throw the rest away

listen,, i just can’t get over the fact that kent ‘once met ryan reynolds and he told him he was pretty’ parson is canonically one of the least chill people ever

honestly can you imagine him meeting tater at a bar after a game and tater who doesn’t have a single vindictive bone in his body slinging a very warm and muscley arm over kent’s shoulders and going, ‘little rat!! you win this time, next time i get you, yes??’

and meanwhile kent’s mind is just going, ‘you can get me right this goddamn second jesus flippity christ on a bicycle pick me up and fold me like a fuckin origami swan shit why is that sexy he’s so big abort abORT’ while playing a slo-mo slideshow of tater picking him up one-handed to the gentle strains of ‘gimme more’

and he kind of?? squeaks??? in response but really, tater is right there and he’s all nice smelling and weirdly handsome with his big nose and slightly wonky jaw and kent is kind of freaking out. at the same time tater is watching the blush spread under kent’s freckles and that’s the moment he decides, yes very good i’m going to keep this one

I have like 0 doubt that Kent and Tater made out in the back of a club once to the muffled beat of Ariana Grande’s “Into You,” and the song is just unconsciously ingrained in the back of Tater’s head, and he just hums it whenever he has a game against the Aces

Falconer rookie: Hey are you humming Ariana Grande. My sister listens to it all the time haha
Tater: Yeah! Is Kenny and my song.
Falconer rookie: …okay.
Tater: Kenny dance really good to song. 
Falconer rookie: …….You don’t have to tell me–
Tater: We make out in club to this song.
Falconer rookie: I’m gonna go that way now

Tater? Didn’t know he was bi until he met Ransom

just, listen to me. I figured out I was bi when I caught myself staring at my oldest friend’s cleavage. Like, I was 17. Sometimes you don’t figure out you’re bi, because, you know, heteronormativity and all that, you tell yourself, I like the opposite gender and this fascination for my own gender are friendships/admiration/whatever.

So bi Tater who never even thought he was bi until that Haus party where he met Jack’s old team, and, well, he knew how to appreciate beauty in all its forms but, no one was pretty like Ransom. NO ONE. Tater just couldn’t stop staring.

At one point in the evening, he grabs Jack by the arm, eyes lost.

‘Zimmbonni. You made coming out to us last month, yes?’


‘Now is my turn. This is me coming out. To you.’

‘Oh? Oh! It’s great, Tater, thank you for-’

‘I have known for last five minutes.’


‘Yes. Your friend Ransom too pretty. I not straight anymore.’

‘…It doesn’t really work like that-’

‘Too pretty for me to stay straight.’

Alexei Mashkov

Learning and speaking English
(or a treatise on growing up with a mother whose first language isn’t English)

  • he can’t count in english. He can, it’s just very very slow. much easier to just stick with Russian
  • people assume he’s stupid because of his accent and broken english. Some days he doesn’t even want to leave the house because of it
  • he’s bad at switching between English and Russian. when he talks to his mother on the phone, it takes hours for his English to come back properly
  • some things he just… doesn’t bother with the english name for. his teammates have all learned to and respond to the Russian names for “locker”, “shower head”, and “watermelon” (bitty tries to cook with them exactly once, but Tater doesn’t use the English words for half of the kitchen utensils and it goes horribly wrong)
  • strangers stop him on the street and try to guess where his accent is from (so far, people have guessed Poland, Ireland, Transylvania, and South Africa???)
  • every once in a while, his accent makes a word nearly impossible to understand (see: “apocalypse”)
  • babies LOVE him because he sounds different (and they love his Russian nursery rhymes, too)
  • any time the team goes to a movie with a Russian villain, tater spends the entire time criticizing the bad Russian dialogue


After Jack comes out publicly, Falconers PR invites Bitty to a falconers practice, bc they know he played at Samwell, and him playing with Jack and the team would be a cute bit, right?

Bitty wipes the floor with all the Falconers guys, who are basically like wait how did you do that? Where did he come from? How are you so fast? Why aren’t you in the NHL? And Jack just stands with Tater on the side sighing over his amazing boyfriend.

It gets more hits than any other video on the Falconers website.

Whatever you do, don’t think about Kent and Tater going to Kents sisters house for the holidays.

 Don’t imagine her having young children (let’s say 3 and 5) who absolutely ADORE Alexei. Especially don’t think about the kids over hearing Kent call him Alyosha, but not being able to pronounce it right, so Tater becomes Uncle Yoshi. Whatever you do, don’t think about Uncle Yoshi.



Sort of. New art-only doodle sideblog! Let’s hope this one lasts. Fingers crossed. 

Aaaaanyway, right after sobbing @ that last CP update, I had to sit down and scribble these out real quick. Don’t even… talk to me about Patater, or how Tater’s strong enough to just lift Parse out of the air by the scruff of his neck like a goddamn kitten, because I will never, ever be over that 

Ft. a tiny Chowder, probably typing a strongly-worded email to that godawful Zimmermann-hating commentator. Pls click on some of these to see them bigger RIP

Bad Bob drops his gloves and takes on the press Part 2: Enter, George & Alicia

Well that first part certainly got more attention than I expected! I mean, I’m delighted, but wow!

So here we have the aftermath of Bob’s big interview. Buckle up, everyone, we’re heading to twitter!

(this somehow turned out longer than part 1)

  • The other Falconers are some of the first to respond. Jack is the baby of the team, even if he isn’t technically the youngest. They Adore Him.
  • Guy: “It’s amazing that the press thinks this is acceptable to do to a kid.”
  • Marty: “Bob’s story is haunting. if it were my kid, I’d be angry, too. Jack is a great player and a great person. He doesn’t deserve that treatment”
  • Tater: “my heart breaks for Zimbonni and his family. Jack is good friend and his Bitty Baker is as well.”
  • (this is actually the most pleasant of all his tweets. the rest were mostly him cussing out the press in both English and Russian)
  • (he gets really creative with the character limit, let me tell you)
  • (there may be a few “fuck you” poems in there. gotta love Tater)

Keep reading


When Bitty mentioned, “I had that nightmare again about getting tackled during Pee Wee football” I had to write a fic in which he tells Jack about them for the first time. Lots of angst, and then fluff. Warning for mentions of violence and low-key homophobia. 


“And…what about the dream, Bits?”

Bitty startles and blinks, “Oh… I’m so sorry… I must’ve blanked out…for a second there… I….” He wipes his eyes.

“Shh, shh,” Jack’s voice is low and warm in his ear, “It’s okay. Take all the time you need, Bud. I only have press tomorrow, remember?”

Bitty sputters, “But-”

“Tater isn’t going wake up even if there’s an earthquake. I promise.” Just to confirm Jack looks across the dark room. Sure enough, the large lump that is Tater is rumbling away in the other bed.

“It’s still 2:43 in the morning for you, Jack.”

“I don’t care.”

Keep reading

I keep seeing cute vids of hockey players skating up to the glass where their families are sat and making faces at their kids, and making them laugh, and i can’t stop picturing Tater holding their curly-haired lil toddler up against the glass as Kent skates up and pulls off his helmet. He makes faces at her until she giggles, and smacks her lil palms against the glass and yells, “dada!” then she smooshes her face against it for smooshy-face glass kisses.

Help. I’m weak.

Okay a high school au in which 17 year old Kent Parson being shoved into a closet to play seven minutes in heaven during a hockey team party.

And of course everyone is a little tispy and laughing and Kent rolls his eyes a little, wondering why he even agreed to this, but he takes it all back when the door opens again and someone is shoving in all 6 foot 4 inches of pure muscle that is defenseman Alexei Mashkov.

(And Kent won’t admit it but he’s kind of had a crush on Tater since he transferred in at the beginning of the season)

And OF FUCKING COURSE Tater has no idea what seven minutes in heaven even is so Kent has to explain it to him and the poor guy’s face goes so red Kent thinks he may have broken him. So Kent rushing to reassure Tater that they don’t actually have to do anything (even though he’s definitely disappointed) when Tater grabs his chin to tilt his head up and pecks him lightly on the lips.

(Now its Kent’s turn to go red) and Tater smiles a little at the reaction before leaning back down to kiss Kent again, harder this time.

And the team opens up the closet seven mintes later and immediately like NOPE because “Put your fucking shirt back on Parson!” “Ew why?” “I for sure saw some tongue…”



Kent didn’t remember it, but clearly his mother did and she photographic evidence.

“Aw, you are looking so–” Kent didn’t understand the last Russian word that Tater had slipped in there.

“I don’t even want to know if that’s a good thing,” Kent muttered from the couch.

Tater looked up from the picture album he was currently thumbing through with an impish smile. Kent stuck out his tongue, just as his mother came back from the kitchen with a plate of Christmas cookies.

She glanced over at the picture Tater was smirking at and sighed fondly. “Oh yes, that one. Kenny always did have a fondness for cats.”

“He is bigger Kit,” Tater agreed.

His mom put the plate down on the coffee table. “I remember that year for Halloween, we barely had enough money to cover rent. I couldn’t afford to buy him a costume and I have no sewing skills to speak of. Kenny, I think you were three or four at the time?” She pulled the photo out of the plastic sleeve and held it up for him. He squinted dimly at it and shrugged.

“Maybe.” He made a mental note to contact Tater’s parents for embarrassing childhood photos as payback.

“So, the neighbors had this cat that Kent loved to play with, and come Halloween, Kent wanted to be a cat. He was very insistent on being “Kitty”. That was what he called the cat, by the way.”

“Only because they named him something stupid and unpronounceable,” Kent threw out.

His mother gave him an amused look. “His name was Caesar, dear.”

“‘Kitty’ was a better name.”

“Anyways, the best thing I cat costume I could come up on a limited budget was dress him in black  and then draw on the nose and the whiskers with my makeup. I bought the ears for fifty cents at a thrift store.”

“He not have tail?” Tater asked?

“Oh, he had a tail. I cut an old shirt of mine and stuffed it with leftover cotton from a pillow.” She laughed, but it was tinged with sadness.

Kent remembered those years when his mother had to work two jobs trying to make ends meet. His hockey was expensive, and he had lost count of the number of times he had told his mother he would quit, only to have her shake her head and tell him that they would make it work… somehow.

He got up from the plush, oversized chair and went to go settle on the arm rest by his mother. “Thank you,” he said sincerely as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

“You were so happy,” she sniffed. “You didn’t even care that the tail was literally stapled shut at the seams.”

“I’m happy I have you.” Kent said softly. “Both of you,” he added with a glance towards Tater who met his warm gaze. Kit, who must have sensed that she was being left out, abandoned her watch from under the tree and came over to jump on Tater’s lap. “All of you,” Kent amended when she joined them.

And he was.


Look, someone mentioned the other day that Kent Parson probably has a picture of himself with the cat face drawn on (or something like that), but I can’t find the post. Please help me so I can give proper credit to the idea. :)

Kent (when meeting Tater for the first time, probably): wow….your hands are so big? Like…you can just hold my entire ass in one hand probably. Weird right anyways we should fuck sometimes when you’re in town or something
Tater: ???
Jeff (dropping his drink and running to Kent): HAHA LOL parser you’re joking again hahahhaa good one how much did you drink hahahaha (to Tater) please don’t sue us

Imagine Kent Parson constantly challenging other players to push up contests (maybe because he’s got a thing for watching big strong men do push ups)

Imagine Kent losing a push up contest to Tater during All-Star practice because Tater starts doing one handed push ups and fucking LAUGHING and Kent is too weak for this shit and he can’t focus anymore

And Tater (who totally sees what he’s doing to poor Kent) offers to “help” Kent get better at push ups later

Spoiler alert: there are no push ups

Imagine Tater doing pushups with Kent sitting on his back

Imagine Tater doing push ups with their baby girl underneath him giving her kisses when he goes down and Kent can’t stop staring for all new reasons