#ziawrites

[fanartshmanart]

You have 3 new messages in your inbox from Kenny.

Sept 9, 2009, 10:34pm

“Hey, Zimms, just calling to say hey, I know you’re probably busy with, you know, rehab things and stuff. But- I mean I’m busy too, obvs, with the whole playing-professional-hockey and shit. But call me up if you wanna chat. Later!”

Oct 2, 2009, 2:11am

“Heya, Zimms, it’s like, 2 a.m. here, haha. Just thinking of you. You know I haven’t talked to you since the whole thing went down, but your dad called, said you’re doing okay. That’s good. Um. Yeah I’m doing good too. The team is… good. Yeah, it’s good, my lineys are great. Not as good as you, obviously. But nah, they’re good guys. Just, ya know, not my best friend. So. If you wanted to talk, you know my number. Okay, miss ya.”

Oct 29, 2009, 1:33am

“Ziiiiimms… I miss you, man… ‘cause, like, you haven’t talked to me in, like, 3 months, and the last time I saw you you were in the ambulance, and I know you’re okay but it would be nice to hear from you, ya know? … I think I’ve left, like, 50 messages in your inbox by now, huh. Sorry ‘bout that. I really have to stop calling you drunk. I miss you.”

Would you like to delete three messages?

Messages deleted. You have 0 new messages.

Dec 25, 2009, 4:54am

Joyeux noel, zimms :)

New Message from Kenny

March 24, 2012, 9:20pm

“Hey, um. I’m sorry for stopping by yesterday. And for the things I said, that was a real asshole move on my part. So… yeah. Sorry.”

The number you’re calling has been disconnected.

May 4, 2015, 10:11am

[phone]

Hey. I’m in town this week if you want to meet up.

This is Jack, by the way.

You - 10:13am

Jack, hey! Yeah, sure, wanna grab lunch on Friday?

[phone] - 10:24am

Sounds good.

----

Kent sat at the coffee shop table with one hand wrapped around his mug and the other digging into his thigh under the table. “So. Uh, how’s your parents?”

“You don’t talk to them anymore?” Jack asked.

“Ah, no.” Kent shifted in his seat. “Saw them at an awards show earlier this year, but we don’t really keep up, after… Well, they had bigger things to deal with, you know, and we both got busy, so.”

“Right, yeah,” Jack nodded. “No, yeah, they’re good. Always talking about wedding things, now, it feels like.”

“Oh, yeah, congratulations,” Kent gestured to the ring on Jack’s finger. Jack smiled down softly at it. “And on coming out, that’s huge, man.”

“Thanks,” Jack’s smile was small, but he looked happier than Kent had ever seen him. “It just felt about time, you know? I was ready.”

Kent didn’t know. You used to get panic attacks at the thought of your parents knowing about us, he thought. I spent hours on end convincing you that no one would ever find out. That we’d be okay. “Yeah totally,” he said. His eyes had been trained on Jack’s right ear for their entire conversation so far. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle icy blue.

“How about you?” Jack asked.

“Huh?”

“You ever thought about coming out?”

Kent barked out a laugh. “Hah! No.”

“Why not?”

“I just…” You’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, did you know that? I wouldn’t risk it for anyone else. “Don’t really have a reason to right now.”

“Ah, makes sense.” There was an awkward pause, both of them busying themselves with their food.

“So, are you and, uh, Eric, planning on getting any pets?” He asked, steering the conversation to a safer topic. “I know you always wanted a dog.”

Jack hummed. “I don’t know, actually, we haven’t really talked about it. Bitty mentioned he likes rabbits, they’re like a cat but quieter.”

Kent scoffed jokingly. “Nah, man, cats are the best, I’m telling you.”

Jack laughed. “And you’d know?”

Kent paused. “I, uh, yeah, I’ve had a cat for, like, 4 years now.”

“Huh,” Jack nodded, “Never thought you’d be a cat person.”

“Yeah, she’s… real sweet.” Kent finally placed the sinking feeling in his stomach. It was the realization that Jack had changed into a person he didn’t know anymore, and Jack didn’t know him either. They weren’t Parson-Zimmermann anymore, Weren’t Zimms and Kenny. They were just two people who used to be friends, on paths that probably wouldn’t merge again.

“It’s been great catching up with you,” Jack said when they were standing up to leave. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, totally,” Kent said, reaching for a smile. “If you ever want to meet up, you know my number.”

[smashmeyer]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Men's Hockey RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick Additional Tags: Light Angst Summary:

The whole point of the trip was that no one would know. They would leave their phones at home, and it would just be the two of them, 7 hours away from any major city, with the bugs and the trees and each other and nothing else.

[and-other-savory-things]

The captive had been feverish for over a day now, alternating between restless sleep and hallucinating wakefulness. His bleary eyes opened when the captor and his sidekick burst into his cell, too exhausted to even turn away as they came over to where he was lying. 

“Open your mouth, we need to take your temperature.” The captive was too feverish to do anything but comply. He cracked his mouth open and it was yanked wider immediately. The captive let out a choked groan as a thermometer was shoved under his tongue. He began to cough and struggle, but the captor held him in place by his jaw until the thermometer beeped. 

The captive’s body wracked with coughs when he was released from the hold. He was vaguely aware of mutterings before they were pulled into fitful slumber again. 

[fanartshmanart]

Pulling into the driveway of his childhood home still elicited the same feelings it always did. Relief. Exhaustion. Something settling back into place inside of him that he wasn’t aware was misaligned until that moment. Dread. He never missed this place when he was gone, but no matter the associations he now had attached to it, it still felt like coming home.

It shouldn’t feel like that, he thought. He hadn’t lived there for 5 years, and his parents had been gone for that long as well. He’d made his own life away from it. He had never felt like he belonged in this farmhouse. Always an outsider, always different from his father, his brothers. And yet, the oak tree out front with the shady branches and the large spot of peeled away bark had inexplicably deep roots in him. Memories he’d thought he’d forgotten came rushing back at the sight of it- lifting Matthew up to help him grab a branch, playing with the giant ant hill at the base of the tree, crashing the car into the trunk late at night because his father was drunk and Declan was 14 and wasn’t supposed to be driving yet but had to get them home and had made it without incident until that point.

He parked his Volvo neatly in front of the garage door. The car dinged at him when he unbuckled his seatbelt before turning off the car. He got out and the slam of the door was muffled in the quiet evening air. There were no human sounds out here, just the loud chirping of crickets and faint rustling from the barn to the right. His oxfords crunched on the gravel as he walked up to the porch.

The door required a knock from him now. He used to burst through it without a second thought, but it hadn't been his home in years.

[and-other-savory-things]

Hi I got bored and wrote Phillip and Schmidt pt. 3

“throw them down a hole” okay thanks @calicoroserackham this one’s for you…

Phillip hated asking for help. It was a point of pride. A ‘he got himself into this mess, he could get himself out’ kind of thing. But he had to concede that, after 3 hours of struggling, he didn’t think he could get himself out of this one.

The phone rang three times before anyone picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey, Schmidt,” Phillip’s voice is tired. “You busy?”

“Phillip, if you are calling me while high again I will cut off your limbs.”

The teen choked out a laugh. “I wish. And that was one time, let it go, man.”

“No fucking chance, why the hell are you calling?”

“Look I…” Phillip sighed. “I need… your… help.”

He could hear Schmidt’s smug smile on the other end. “Hmm, sorry, what was that? Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Can we save the gloating until a-ahhh-” he gasped in pain as he jostled his leg. “-until after, please?”

“Are you hurt?” Schmidt asked, his tone changing immediately.

“… Yeah.” Phillip closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool, damp concrete as he took stock again. “Broken leg. Definitely. Bruised ribs, but I don’t think they’re broken, and maybe a concussion? Also I’m…”

“You’re what? Where are you, I’ll come get you.” Already there were sounds of shuffling and the jangle of keys in the background.

“I’m… stuck.” Phillip winced. This was embarrassing. “In… a hole. The bottom of a sewer.”

“You remember you can fly, right?”

Phillip huffed frustration, getting worked up. “Yeah I fucking know that, Schmidt. They just- I- I need my hands to, to propel me and they put me in these- stupid, fucking- cuffs before they threw me down here, and I can’t do anything, I just-”

“Okay, kid. Calm down.” Schmidt’s voice was steady. “I’m coming to get you, don’t worry. Do you know where you are?”

“I… I think around the corner of Dundas and Huron…that’s where I was when Grey jumped me.” He could barely see the grate far above him, but he could picture the bubble tea place on the corner clearly.

“Right, I- Grey did this?” Schmidt asked in outrage, muttering something under his breath that Phillip thought was “fucking bastard”. He couldn’t agree more.

“Yeah, he’s a real asshole,” His laugh turned into another wet cough. “Hey, can you hurry up, I think I’m getting pneumonia,” he tried to joke.

“It’s November, and you’re probably wearing spandex, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“It’s- it’s not spandex, okay-” Phillip sputtered.

“Alright, alright. I’ll be there in 10. Don’t pass out on me, okay?”

His lips quirked up into a relieved smile. “No promises.”

[and-other-savory-things]

My writing is shite and this took way too long and it is now 2am but I was inspired by @whumpiary 's post about pet names that I can't link because I'm on mobile but here have words idk.

It's hard to distinguish because, again, my writing is shite, so ...

Whumpee : he/him

Caretaker : they/them, whumpee's partner

The first time his partner had called him that, the name slipped out completely on accident.

"Can you grab the door, my darling?"

Spurred on by the blush on their partner's normally stoic face, the term of endearment stuck. Whumpee loved the pet name a lot more than he would admit, right up until his capture.

Whumper had called him many things at first, but none gave them a reaction quite as strong as 'my darling'.

"Don't you ever call me that." Whumpee had growled at first, still so full of fight.

The whumper smiled.

By the end, whumpee had heard the term from the mouth of the whumper almost as often as he had from his partner.

"Now, now, darling, that's no way for you to talk to me!"

"You look beautiful covered in red, my darling."

"Try to keep it down, darling, we can't have the whole town hearing your screams."

It was the morning of whumpee's third day back with his partner when he heard that name again.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

Whumpee flinch was unmistakable, curling in on himself and reaching up to cover his ears.

"[Whumpee]?" His partner rushed over and felt his shaking when they put their hand on his shoulder. It took a few minutes before the silence was broken by the whumpee's shattered whisper.

"Please don't call me that."

They pulled their partner into an embrace, ignoring the tears welling up in their eyes. "Of course not, my love."