you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

bitty and lardo having a quiet moment 🍂🏠🧡

i need it to be fall so bad ….

jsyk nursey wears glasses at night/in the mornings/whenever he just doesn’t feel like wearing contacts but for like the first year or so he was on smh he didn’t wear them that often and the first time dex saw him in their room all cozy w his glasses and a sweater and a notebook or poetry volume all he could think was ‘oh shit’

pov you look over while you’re trying to pass this huge freaking bus on the highway and you see 2️⃣ guys listening to music together and they’re falling in love but also they’re trying not to show it but also it’s so obvious…

watching a lotttt of the paris 2024 games, so here’s an olympics au (uniforms based on the 2010 vancouver games, my beloved)

late night studyin …. pray for bitty please 🙏

Seems like just yesterday he was learning to scoot scoot. *sigh* They grow up so fast.

Happy Birthday Jack!!

happy birthday to the guy done dirtiest by the narrative, the one true rat of the league, and the captain of your las vegas aces: kent parson!

Bitty? Eric Bittle? Eric Richard Bitty Bittle? you put Taylor Swift songs on your playlist of songs reminding you of the Check Please! by Ngozi Ukazu character Eric Bittle?!!!!?!?!?!?!

THIS MAN?!!!

do you have any IDEA why Beyonce getting snubbed for grammys in lieu of the paragon of white woman mediocrity would MAKE BITTY MAD?!!

Check, Please! + Text Posts (1/?)

when you’ve been made !

thought about jack zimmermann’s backstory today. 18 dead 23 injured

his head pulses from the pain as the light assault his eyes, and for a moment, he believes he still must be out of it. a second ago he was on the ice, mid-check, matheson's knee coming dangerously close to his face in slow motion, and now he's surrounded by an echo of noises and...

"bittle."

"hi, hon."

jack swallows. hon. bittle's concerned looked hasn't changed, the way he says hon either. this scene could have been taken out from jack's bedroom in providence, five years ago, if it weren't for the subtle signs on bittle's face that time had changed.

he looks good.

he always did. but he looks really good. healthy. well. that's probably a shit way of putting it. he looks happy. without jack. slightly broader in the shoulders. three tiny freckles that he didn't have before, in a near perfect line down his check. perhaps a reminder of the tears jack put there, when everything happened, so long ago.

"apparently I'm still your emergency contact," bittle says, simply, as if he has to explain why he's here, in boston, instead of sunny los angeles. sunny los angeles, who took bittle away.

"oh. sorry. you shouldn't have." his voice sounds rough. what the fuck happened? "should have changed that."

probably nothing more pathetic than telling your ex, who's doing you a favor, that you didn't have anyone else to put as an emergency contact for seven years.

bittle chuckles, but there's no happiness behind it. "don't be silly. how are you feelin'?"

he slips his hand into jack's, and squeezes. it feels as natural as it had. motion repeated a thousand times, before the clog in the wheel. jack stares at their joined hand.

"why did you travel this far?"

"hon," bittle says, sounding now even more concerned. "do you need the doctor?"

"no, shit-" he knows he's not making much sense, but he is. his head is fine - well, it's not, but it's fine for now, there are more pressing matters - "I'm fine. you're far from home."

"ha." he looks up, and bittle's staring out of the window, a slight smile on his face. "not so much anymore. nour finally convinced me to take on the business world, if you can believe. we're opening a bakery in boston."

in boston.

im a special kind of delusional because check please ended four years ago and im still in the nurseydex trenches im committed. i think it can still happen you guys and im so serious about that.