Noooooooooo, I'm so glad you bothered. I loved that au snippet when I first read it. So eager to go off and read it now. Thank you so much! 😍
Thank you! And thanks to everybody that’s defended me on here. I really, really appreciate it. I was so excited to come back from my long hiatus, just got a little jarred this morning.
PERFECT, and also Jonny obviously survived it and HAPPY ENDING right
Happy ending is the human race lives on?
I kid, I kid.
Let’s imagine for a moment that Jonny didn’t destroy the mother ship completely, because it’s made of an ultra dense, ultra sturdy alloy. He punched his hornet right through the hull, detonating the bomb in the ensuing fire. Half the ship exploded and the aliens limped back to their home planet with Jonny still in several pieces inside.
Welp. I finally expanded this with Kaner’s POV and put this together and posted it on ao3, where I promptly got accused of having the audacity to plagiarize myself. So that’s really chill. I love this fandom. So glad I bothered.
Well if I remember correctly wasn't Jonny's time with the winter side over after two years? Maybe I misread!
No, you didn’t misread! I am apparently just tired. Also, I think it didn’t really occur to me, because I think mostly about porn when it comes to this story. MEA CULPA.
Wait so...we won't get to see Jonny and Pat reunited in that fic?????
Uh, no? I just haven’t written it yet? I literally said in the intro to the snippet that I didn’t know where it was going or how long it was going to be!
I wrote a little something something to cheer up @cooliofoolios in this trashfire time we’re living in.
I was supposed to write her forced bonding, or H/C, or a serial killer AU, and somehow she got a little something of none of that! Sorry, boo, hope this helps cheer you up anyway. This is a grosse point blank au, I have no idea where it’s going, or how long it’s going to be, but have at it. Shermer, IL is the Chicago suburb used in all of the John Hughes’ movies.
Patrick left and has never regretted it. He left because the world got so small. He left because he couldn’t breathe. Because he didn’t know how to be anymore. There was the mess with his father, and the way hockey had been taken away from him. It’s funny, he thinks now, as he receives the letter proudly inviting him back to his tenth high school reunion that the very day he drove to a Marine recruitment office was also the day of his senior prom. He’d abandoned his date, tossed his cell-phone, and headed for San Diego. Never even graduated. He doesn’t know how the letter even managed to reach him. He takes pains to move undetected, and somehow Crystal Le, former homecoming queen and senior class president and current real estate agent, had done a better job of finding him than the US Government. Of course he’s not going to go, it wouldn’t exactly be wise given his current occupation, but also because he put Shermer, Illinois in the rear view mirror and never looked back.
“That’s not exactly true is it?” his therapist breaks in, peering at him over his desk with the slightly crazed look he always has around Patrick.
“What?” Patrick replies, caught off guard.
“What about Jonny?” Dr. Bowman asks carefully.
“Oh,” Patrick says. “I mean—he was a good buddy.”
“You mention him a lot,” Dr. Bowman points out.
“We met at thirteen,” Patrick replies. “It was formative, you know how it is.”
“Hmm,” Dr. Bowman says.
“What does that mean?” Patrick asks dryly, leaning forward in his chair.
Bowman jumps, hands clutching at the armrests of his chair like he expects Patrick to spring over the desk at him. “Oh, ah, nothing!” he replies quickly.
“Oh c’mon, ‘hmm’ does not mean nothing,” Patrick says.
Bowman shakes his head, features white and strained, his bald head shiny with sweat. “This is why I can’t work with you, Patrick!”
Patrick slowly blinks at him. “Why’s that?”
“I’m emotionally involved with you,” Bowman replies. “It’s unethical.”
Patrick scoffs. “What? How are we emotionally involved?”
“I. Am. Terrified. Of. You!” Bowman bites out.
“I don’t know why,” Patrick says, leaning back in his chair to pluck at his tie. “I already said I wouldn’t kill you.”
“See!” Dr. Bowman very nearly screeches. “There you go with the killing again. This is not how a normal-doctor patient relationship should go!”
“I mean, I don’t know what normal is, obviously. That’s why I’m in here,” Patrick answers with a snort. “Turns out running away from home to go kill people for a living can kinda fuck you up.”
Dr. Bowman throws up his hands. “You know I’m legally bound to report you when you say things like that.”
Patrick slants him a look. “Ah ah ah,” he says, enjoying the way Bowman blanches. “You wouldn’t want me to let a certain angry mafia don know your whereabouts would you?”
“You can’t extort therapy! That’s not how this works!” If Bowman had any hair left he’d be tearing it out. Patrick very nearly laughs out loud.
He was being truthful. Bowman really does have nothing to worry about from him. He’d never liked the guy who put out the hit on the doctor in the first place. The mob is messy, camorra in particular, and Patrick likes things neat and clean. It’s why he’s so good at his job. Besides he really does think the sessions are helping. If the doctor is so terrified, he never should’ve gotten tangled up in organized crime, accepting all that money to treat Don Franchioni, and then turning states’ evidence on him. Bad business that. But the doctor’s a good therapist. Very highly regarded.
“Well, I can’t exactly go telling any other psychiatrist what I do now can I?”
“Ugh, this is hopeless,” Bowman says, leaning forward to thunk his head on the desk.
“I really feel we’ve made progress,” Patrick replies evenly.
“You’re insane!”
“Very likely,” he says, moving to get up out of his chair. “Same time next week?”
Bowman, still thumping his head down across his day planner and muttering, stops and looks up to skewer Patrick with a baleful glare. “Go to your damn reunion. Go—” he waves a hand in the air, obviously struggling for words, “—confront some of your issues!”
Patrick pauses. “You really think so?”
“Yes!” Bowman shouts back.
“Huh,” Patrick replies, thinking about it. He’s been avoiding Shermer and the greater Chicago area for ten fucking years, trying to wait out his godforsaken father’s lifespan, but it might be nice to see his mom and his sisters again, see some of the old sights.
Never have the tags on a new post to AO3 been so beautiful!!! Seeing you posted a new fic made my day and that was BEFORE I read the tags - college au, fuck or die, forced orgasm - !!!!! Best day EVER!
Awww. Yeah, that thing was a total idfic. It started with a conversation I had with @essouffle on trying to make the most ridiculous story EVER and write it straight, lol. I’m really glad you’re excited! Hope it lives up to the tags, lol.
I know what you mean about tumblr being toxic, but there are ways around it! I almost left too, but I've been able to tailor my dash so that I don't see anything negative/toxic. Liberal use of the block feature, tumblr savior for keywords or usernames of people whose posts I don't want to see, and only following a select number of blogs. I only follow about 130 hockey blogs, but I don't feel like I'm missing out or anything. I understand if you really want to leave, but know that I'll miss you!
I appreciate the advice, but I’ve been here a long time and I do all that. My blacklist on xkit is maybe 100 terms long, I follow just 15 hockey blogs, and all of them are people I personally talk to. The past month or so I’ve been away from tumblr and I’ve missed a few good gifs here or there, but I’ve also been far away from the nonsense, because honestly to me, it doesn’t matter how ruthlessly I curate my experience, at a certain point I think the platform just fosters a kind of hit-and-run assholery.
To be clear, I’m not quitting fandom! But for right now, I am quitting this place and I may decide to delete. I’ll give you a heads up, if I do though, I promise.
People keep asking me when I’m going to come back from my vacation, and at this point, I’m thinking...never? Tumblr is such a toxic wasteland. I’m not sure I can do it anymore.
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