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exmcrtis · 7 months

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you can sit beside me when the world comes down...

(a general overview of what my muses have been up to post-event)

ARTEMIS has mostly been laying low. she was unaffected by the destruction in town, but the emotional damage was enough to convince her she needs to keep her head down, and she's been spending more time at home or at work. she's been feeling more and more lonely these days, and as a result has decided to stop using physical intimacy as a coping mechanism. long story short, she's a reformed hoe.

BELLA has been splitting her time between jerico, the cruz-duttons, and her friends, but has mostly been with jerico. his injuries have worried her enough that she's in full-time panic mode, but is doing her best to hide it from everyone. she's also formed a new friendship with jessie, one that she plans to hold near and dear. just don't tell other people that she has a heart, she'll probably kick you in the shins.

CAIN suffered an eye injury during the earthquake, and has been sentenced to wear an eye patch for the foreseeable (pun intended) future. not being with val during the ordeal freaked him out, and they have been shacking up at his place for the past couple of weeks. he really only leaves the house to go to work, but he's been rendered useless since he needs both eyeballs in order to do his job properly. just call him captain cain and slap a pet parrot on his shoulder.

EZRA did not attend the event, as the idea of being around that many people freaks her out. she happily stayed at home with her books, but often visits the large cracks in town to inspect them. can usually be found staying out dangerously close to dark, but thinks nothing of it.

HALLEY sustained sprains to both her wrist and shoulder, but is otherwise unscathed. she's still quite emotionally stunted when it comes to her family situation, but chooses to distract herself by visiting mo as often as possible. she also spends a lot of time with zarina and knightley, but still doesn't fully open up about her feelings. she also confessed her feelings for saffron and doesn't regret it, but the very thought of liking someone that much terrifies her.

LAVENDER hasn't been doing so great for the past couple of weeks. the disappearance of her mother has left her feeling like a shell of a human, and no matter how much she tries to distract herself, she just can't shake it. she spends most of her time at work or around town, no longer feeling like the commune is home. however, she has no plans of moving out, so she's stuck in a limbo state currently.

LEIA was beebopping around until the earthquake hit, and then she scrambled home. she visits draven and salem more often than not, wanting to make sure that draven is okay despite how heavy things are at home.

LUCA has been hovering around parker as often as they'll let him. he didn't attend the event, but seeing so many people grieving and recovering makes him tense, so he's been spending most of his time at work. he does regular check-ins with all the weirdlings, and while he wants to pretend that he has no feelings, his concern for his little siblings for all intents and purposes outweighs any façade that he tries to put on. basically, this is the best time to try and befriend him.

ONDINE has been trying to adjust to life in town rather than the commune. her life has been uprooted in every sense of the word, and it's caused a lot of trust issues to develop that weren't there previously. she's made quick friends with celia, a good thing considering she's been bringing joei to work with her, and has begun settling into the idea of being around people outside of the commune. ondine wants to believe that she and joei are safe now that there's some sort of separation from absinthe, but she can't help but feel paranoid that something bad will happen at the drop of a hat.

PRUDENCE is living in a current state of grief and sadness. the loss of minnie hit her hard, so she's been trying and failing to find as many distractions as possible. she hasn't been sleeping much (if at all), and the exhaustion is starting to show. conrad's offer for her to stay over at the greene residence whenever she wanted has been accepted every single day since the earthquake. she's started to feel like a burden as of late, but she continues to show up at mason and conrad's door on a daily basis. she worries that she's overstaying her welcome and is waiting patiently for the day when they kick her out. spends most of her time crying but has become a pro at hiding it.

SALEM sustained some pretty serious burns from her shoulder down on her left side. in the past couple weeks she's visited the clinic a few times to make sure she's taking proper care of herself, but unless she's there or at work, she's spent most of her time at home. though draven tries to fuss over her, salem still keeps her focus on him, trying not to think too hard about what happened to her. however, she plans to cover up for quite some time, not wanting to draw attention to her burns. garnering extra attention is too scary.

SARE has spent most of her time working. she tries to check in with spencer even more now, not wanting to feel like a helicopter sister, but also wanting to make sure her little sibling is doing okay. she's finally coming around to the idea of having a closer relationship with sycamore, but she's choosing to take that one step at a time.

VIOLET has been a worrying mess since the earthquake. she's been trying to give saffron space, but has done at least one check-in (even if it's met with a grouchy attitude). she knows how worried rex is and has been spending as much time with him as possible so she can keep both of their minds at ease.

WOLF has been coping with his injury by cracking jokes and annoying arty. his hand was crushed badly by debris, and he anticipates that it'll never gain its full functionality ever again. while it's been extremely painful to deal with, his aversion to going to doctors (and being touched, for that matter) has made him refuse to go to the clinic. he will continue to cope with humor.

WYLIE is doing the worst of them all. minnie's death has left her feeling like she barely exists, and she cries most of her days away. she has stopped going to work all together, and when she is around other people, she mostly stays quiet until someone addresses her. wylie feels like there's no point to life anymore, and has no idea how to channel any of her emotions. coping mechanisms don't currently exist, and being around her can only be described as 'miserable'. she misses the love of her life.

#artemis hayes: musings #bella darling: musings #cain barlowe: musings #ezra blum: musings #halley macgillivray: musings #lavender parsons: musings #leia tolentino: musings #luca russo: musings #ondine feng: musings #prudence wheaton: musings #salem salazar: musings #sare holmes: musings #violet beauregarde: musings #wolf lykaios: musings #wylie bateman: musings

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stylesnews · 3 years

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HARRY STYLES wore a dress. You may well know that already even if you don’t follow fashion or music closely. Photos of the British singer in the custom Gucci frock—snapped for the cover of Vogue—swarmed the internet a few weeks ago, sending his brigade of fans into a tizzy. Scads of tweets and online articles recycled the images. And while most of the coverage lauded Mr. Styles for his beguiling, gender-bending outfit, some conservative pundits including Candace Owens predictably wrung their hands, interpreting the hubbub as a death knell for the so-called “manly man.” The cover itself was a landmark: Mr. Styles is the first man to grace the cover of Vogue solo. Think of the instantly collectible issue as a coronation of sorts, confirming that the 26-year-old singer is now officially style-royalty.

Mr. Styles, who rose to fame as a member of the boy band One Direction before going solo, has been a fashion provocateur for several years now. A muse to Gucci creative director Alessandro Michele, he consistently wears the label’s rather unisex wares such as tapestry print trousers, lithe loafers and pussy-bow blouses. (Representatives for the artist did not respond to a request for comment for this story and, through a representative, his stylist Harry Lambert declined to comment.)

On Instagram, feverish fan accounts like @Hsfashionarchive (which has over 100,000 followers) vie to identify whatever Mr. Styles is photographed wearing, from whimsically wide floral pants by British designer Steven Stokey Daley to a candy-colored necklace by New York jewelers Eliou. This year Mr. Styles topped the “Power Dressers” list on Lyst, a fashion-focused search platform, reflecting the strong correlation between his clothing choices and what online shoppers seek. Camilla Clarkson, communications director at Lyst, noted that Mr. Styles’s “non-binary style” helps drive his popularity, particularly with a younger generation that liberally shops across gender lines.

Some older observers, however, regard Mr. Styles’s fashion choices through a “been there, seen that” lens. “It’s kind of like this year’s version of rock-star packaging or something,” said Vincent Boucher, 67, a lecturer at Parsons School of Design in New York. As precursors, Mr. Boucher pointed to Kurt Cobain, Mick Jagger and David Bowie, all of whom donned dresses decades ago, nimbly crossing gender lines. (I’d add to that list the lesser-known, openly gay disco singer Sylvester, who frequently vacillated between men’s and women’s clothing—see the video for his 1978 number-one hit, “You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real).”)

Mr. Styles’s Vogue cover elicited little more than “a shrug” from Andrew Groves, 52, a fashion professor at Westminster University in London. As Prof. Groves pointed out, when Bowie wore a dress in the early ‘70s, it was “really provocative because it was outside society’s norms.”

Even if Prof. Groves considers Mr. Styles’s floor-length dress unworthy of controversy, it did cause a several-day stir here in America that broke down largely along partisan lines. Alarmed conservative pundits tweeted lengthy screeds including Candace Owens, 31, a conservative voice who decried the “steady feminization of our men.”

Meanwhile, on her Instagram a few days later, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez called Mr. Styles’s Vogue shoot “wonderful” and confronted the criticisms: “Perhaps for some people it provokes some anger or insecurity around masculinity/femininity/etc. If it does, then maybe that’s part of the point. Sit with that reaction and think about it, examine it, explore it, engage it, and grow with it.”

Most male stars still avoid the risks associated with dressing too fashionably. Days after Mr. Styles’s Vogue cover was released, George Clooney graced the cover of GQ Magazine. The ensuing social-media conversation focused not on his (strategically inoffensive) clothes but on the affable star’s anecdotes. Mr. Clooney, in his immaculate knit polo and Ray-Ban sunglasses, surely looked great to many men of a certain age. But his look was hardly innovative, unlike those embraced by Mr. Styles and other dynamic, contemporary style icons like A$AP Rocky, Tyler the Creator and Jaden Smith.

Thanks in part to the internet and social media, which have given him an arguably wider sphere of influence than earlier gender-bending-fashion icons like Bowie or Cobain, Mr. Styles is turning receptive fans onto novel ways of dressing. “He’s a pioneer, really,” said Jordan O’Brien, 28, of Penngrove, Calif. Mr. O’Brien creates men’s-fashion videos, one of which, titled, “Recreating Harry Styles Iconic Outfits,” has been viewed over 123,000 times on YouTube. It shows Mr. O’Brien loosely following in his idol’s footsteps by wearing outfits like a lavender suit with a mesh-shirt.

Mr. O’Brien and other admirers I spoke with can’t afford the big-ticket Gucci and Bode clothes Mr. Styles endorses. Nor are they really interested in adopting his most avant-garde outfits. Instead, they attempt to channel the essence of his style and his flexible attitude. “I love how he breaks the boundaries,” of men’s fashion and shows that “people can wear whatever they want,” said Mr. O’Brien.

Kyle Jordan, 23, a barista in Barrington, N.J., studies Pinterest pages dedicated to Mr. Styles’s outfits. He’s adopted the singer’s penchant for broader pants and boxy button-ups and now has his eye on a pearl necklace which has for years been Mr. Styles’s signature. Lyst’s Ms. Clarkson noted that whenever Mr. Styles wears a given item—be it pearls, or a blue suit, or a yellow bucket hat—her site registers a jump in search inquiries for comparable items.

A rainbow-patchworked J.W. Anderson cardigan that Mr. Styles wore on the “Today” show in February is probably the item his fans have tried most zealously to duplicate. The technicolor sweater became an internet sensation, shared particularly widely on TikTok. But at $1,560 it was well outside most fans’ budgets, its idiosyncrasy extreme enough that good facsimiles were hard to find. So, in a rare instance in which a luxury fashion label bowed to the masses, J.W. Anderson released the pattern online so fans could knit their own version; cardiganed Styles copycats began posting their homemade iterations en masse. As for the original sweater? It’s heading to the Victoria & Albert Museum in London—acknowledged as a piece of fashion history.

#harry styles #dec20 #wall streeet journal

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kentparsonbirthdaybash · 6 years

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kent parson birthday bash ‘18 sneak peek #12

Kent Parson’s birthday is right around the corner and we’re gonna celebrate it right by bringing you 55 new fanworks dedicated to him! This challenge is an anonymous gift exchange, so all fanworks will be posted anonymously on July 4th and gifters will be revealed a week later - it’s like Secret Santa in July!

For now, we’ve worked together with some of our creators to bring you sneak peeks of what’s headed your way!

sneak peek #12

He helps Derek into the tub, instinctively reaching to catch him when Derek winces. He shakes his head, letting Kent know he’s got it. Derek doesn’t have a real smile on at the moment. But the twitch on his lips is soft. It makes Kent want to step into the tub with him—to go over every inch of Derek with his lips until everything hurts less.

Derek groans as he relaxes into the bath. He closes his eyes for a while. Kent is content to watch him, occasionally dipping his hand in to watch the oatmeal and lavender swirl. Someone, Lardo he thinks, turned on the surround system in the bathroom. One of Derek’s post game playlists plays quietly in the background.

Their quiet moments are some of his favorites, Kent thinks. They’re used to being on all the time. Nursey out of everyone in the entire fucking world knows how hard Kent works to keep a good fake smile firmly on his face. It’s nice when neither of them have to keep pretenses up. When they get to not pretend to be happy or nice or cheerful when all they want to do is scream.

“Hey,” Derek says eventually, stirring Kent out of his musings.

Kent clears his throat, scooting closer to Derek’s face as he says, “Hi, how are you?”

Derek’s lips twitch again. “I don’t know. How are you, love?”

“I asked you first,” Kent says.

“I asked you better.”

#kent parson #derek nurse #parsepositive #omgcp rarepairs #omgcheckplease #kpbb #kpbb18 #SNEAK PEEKS

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ittybittypbandj · 6 years

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The Internship - Chapter 1

Trying my hand at a multi-chapter Bittyparse fic! 5 chapters, weekly updates. Also on ao3. <3

Summary:

Eric Bittle arrived in New York two weeks ago, newly single and ready for a fresh start. This internship was just what he needed to jumpstart his life.

Kent Parson loved his life in New York. He was at the peak of his NHL career. He had friends, the world's greatest cat, and everything he thought he needed.

He never expected a small Southern blonde to burst into his life and turn everything on its head.

Bitty frowned hard at the red bowtie. He twisted away from the mirror, tugging it off as he reached for the lavender one. Lordy, lavender was just as bad. How had all his favorite ties had become gauche overnight?

His mama had reassured him over Skype last night, "Don't worry, Dicky. You'll do great. You'll charm the socks off 'em. Before you know it, they'll be movin' you over to that food magazine you love so much." And he was gonna prove her right. He just needed to put in a little time, show them what he could do.

But how could he do it in a tie that screamed I don't know what I'm doing and by the way I’m bad with animals?

Okay fine, maybe it wasn't the tie's fault. If this were Jack’s first game of the season, Bitty would be reminding him to breathe right about now. He would be alright. He was Eric Richard Bittle. He could land a double Axel with his eyes closed and bake a flourless chocolate cake in Georgia in July. He could do this.

Bitty had moved to Brooklyn two weeks ago, eager to start his new internship in Manhattan. For the next three months he would be a Social Media Associate for Fancy Feline cat food. The job paid a stipend - not much, but enough to finance his matchbook-sized bedroom and name-brand butter - and there was a possibility at the end to extend his contract. It wasn't exactly his dream job, but what was a boy supposed to do? A year out of college, a degree in American Studies, and no experience? Employers weren't exactly banging down his door with offers.

A year ago, Bitty thought Jack was his future. At graduation, he had plans of moving in with Jack, finding a job in Providence, and settling down into their shared life.

After Bitty moved to Providence, he’d sent resume after resume to employers but couldn’t find a job. Jack was out of town frequently and Bitty didn’t have any local friends – Lardo and Shitty and Holster and Ransom were all in Boston, which was just far enough away to be logistically difficult – and he found himself more isolated than he expected.

Bitty also realized that he’d only experienced Jack’s intensity and anxiety through the rosy lens of infatuation. They both struggled with the shift in their living situation, lord knows it was as hard on Jack as it was on him. In April when Jack’s playoff run ended abruptly from a wrist injury and an eight-week recovery, Bitty’d been ready to poke out his own eye rather than face another day of both of them at home, dancing around the fact that this just wasn’t working.

And so, after they’d finally talked and cried and shared a joint session with Jack’s therapist, Bitty and Jack called it quits and Bitty tearfully phoned Lardo to break the news. He’d stayed on her and Shitty’s lumpy couch in Boston for two months while Shitty called in a family favor and helped him land this internship.

Even after everything, Bitty was feeling hopeful. All he needed was a few months' experience and a job on his resume more substantial than ‘running a baking vlog’. He took a deep breath and released it, checked his hair one last time, queued up Queen Bey on his headphones, and headed for the subway.

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

Bitty’s first day at the office was a whirlwind of new faces and information. Meesha, Bitty’s fellow intern and apparently the person in charge, led him on a brisk tour through the office and he practically skip-jogged to keep up with her. While they walked, she peppered him with information about the department.

"You’ll coordinate the images and story for all the social media platforms, and you’ll directly manage the endorsement relationships." Meesha glanced over her shoulder to check that he was keeping up. "I do all the site and ad placement, and Tito runs the admin side. We're all a hot mess this week prepping for Kit, but don’t worry - we'll get you settled in just fine."

"Kit?" Bitty asked.

"Oh yeah, Kit Purrson. She's launching as the face of Fancy Feline in, like, three weeks. Totes adorbs and has a crazy-ass following. We've got, like, a zillion things to do to get ready. I'm sure you'll jump right in. You've used Visio, right?"

By lunch, Bitty’s head was swirling with acronyms and spreadsheets. It felt a little like in figure skating when he’d come out of a scratch spin too fast - the world was wobbly and the colors were spinning, but he was confident it would right itself if he grinned and skated through it.

"Heeeey, how's our new boy doin'?" someone yelled as they passed his and Meesha’s cubicle. Bitty spied styled black hair over the cubicle wall.

"Hey Tito!” Meesha called back. “He's great!"

Tito appeared from around the corner, eight coffees in two to-go containers balanced masterfully on one arm. He read the lids and carefully passed one to Meesha. "You guys ready for our guest today? I’m totally having him sign something.”

Meesha rolled her eyes as she inhaled the fragrant coffee. “You are seriously the lamest. Sports are a consumerist construct and the guy is basically, like, Kit’s chaperone. She’s the real star.”

Tito laughed and offered a cup to Bitty, “Hey Eric, I wasn’t sure what to get you. How’s a vanilla sugar oat milk latte? It’s the special across the street.”

Bitty grinned. “Thanks, hon!” His first day was turning out pretty great.

Meesha steered Bitty into a large conference room. Tito ran to his desk for a hat and marker before joining the people assembling around the conference table. Lordy, he hadn’t been lying about an autograph. Who was this guy?

A dozen folks chatted quietly around the table. Their guest was apparently running late, and Meesha took the opportunity to fill Bitty in on launch plans. As she was explaining the finer points of multi-platform synchronization, Bitty heard a man’s laughter down the hall. His ears perked up. Did he know that voice? Surely it couldn’t be –

Bitty’s head jerked up as an effortlessly well-dressed man in a royal blue snapback stepped into the room. Their eyes locked.

Oh lord. Kent Parson.

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

Kent scowled at Kit, his chin resting on his hands on the cold hardwood.

“C’mon, baby, you’ve got to eat it.”

Kit sniffed the dish daintily, nonplussed.

“I know, princess,” he wheedled, “but daddy’s going to make you the most famous li’l furbaby on the internet. You’ll pass grumpy cat like he forgot how to frown. All you have to do is eat the gross food.”

Kit mrowled in disapproval and Kent rearranged his awkward limbs. So this is what his adulthood had come to, he mused. Two condos, three sports cars, a slew of hockey awards, and apparently a cat too picky to eat the goddamn food she was paid a shitload of money to represent.

Tonight’s standoff had lasted an hour, and Kent would be damned if he let Kit win again.

He scratched his nose. He probably should be doing the prep work the Fancy Feline team needed before Kit’s photo shoot. At the meeting today, they’d given him a to-do list that rivaled his off-season training goals. He was supposed to check with Eric Bittle if he had any questions.

Speaking of which, why had Eric Blast-from-the-Past Bittle even been there today? Kent would have appreciated a goddamn heads-up, that’s for sure.

Eric looked good, he thought. A little taller and sharper than he remembered. His hair game was on point. Kent had only seen him a couple times in the four years since the Samwell party where they first met, and of course Eric had grown up, but seriously – he was hot now.

But why the hell was he in New York City? And was this related to the charming, old-man text messages Jack had started to send Kent out of the blue a month ago?

Kent debated texting Jack to ask, but it was a horrible idea. Either Jack and Eric were still together and Jack would send awkward Canadian nonsense about how great Eric was, or they weren’t together and Jack would get pissed and shut Kent out of his life again.

Kent sighed and climbed to his feet, heading to the refrigerator for Kit’s specialty wet food and a glass of white wine to wash down the bitter taste of defeat. He would fight the cat food battle another day. As Kit scarfed down hand-seared filet mignon, Kent sipped his wine and fiddled with his phone.

Kent: hey dude what’s up? I saw your boy today.

Jack: Hey Kent.

Jack: What?

Well shitballs, this was already turning out to be a terrible idea. No turning back now, Kent reasoned.

Kent: Eric was at a business meeting today. all suited up and shit.

Kent: what’s he doing in NYC? u guys ok?

Jack: Oh.

Jack: We broke up in April.

Kent: shit Zimms, that really blows. he seemed like a cool guy

Jack: Yeah.

Kent: sometimes it just doesn’t work out, y’know? i’m sure you’ll find somebody great

Jack: How was the meeting?

Kent: oh

Kent: it was good. boring as watching ice melt but productive I guess

Kent: eric looks good, I mean not in a weird creepy way but he looks like he’s doing ok?

[Jack is typing…]

[Last message received 8:54pm]

Kent: hey, did you see the new netflix show where ordinary people recreate fancy cakes and that crazy lady yells at everybody?

Kent: it’s the tits

Jack: No, but I’ll check it out.

Kent: dooo iiit

Jack: What’s the name?

Kent: fuck if I know. it’s the one with the previews of nasty looking cakes and ppl getting screamed at. you can’t miss it. it’s a goddamn gem.

Jack: Sounds like it.

Jack: And, thanks Parse. I’m glad he’s doing OK.

Kent: no problem man

Kent: any time

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

Bitty paced all eight feet of his bedroom, back and forth, back and forth.

He was supposed to be starting a new life! In a city of eight million people, how had he stumbled upon the one person connected to his life with Jack? And how was he supposed to be professional and work with said person, when everyone (well, maybe just Bitty) knew that he was secretly a manipulative asshole?

Good gracious, he might be freaking out just a little. He needed reassurance. Who could he talk to that knew the situation and would be supportive and not weird?

Bitty: LARDOOOOO

Lardo: BITTTYYYY

Lardo: Why the yelling, Bits?

Bitty: I am coordinating a photo shoot at Kent Parson’s house next week. KENT PARSON’S HOUSE

Lardo: That’s sick bro.

Lardo: They’re giving you a lot of responsibility right away. Nice.

Bitty: -_-;

Bitty: I think you’re missing the point

Bitty: KENT PARSON KENT PARSON KENT PARSON

Lardo: Lol Bitty cool your jets. He’s been pretty chill lately, hasn’t he?

Bitty: If you mean ‘not making my boyfriend have any more panic attacks’, then yes he’s been chill

Bitty: But I’d say that’s a VERY low bar to hurdle

Lardo: Have you met him yet? How was it?

Lardo: Does he know you and Jack broke up?

Bitty: I’m pretty sure he didn’t know who I WAS

Bitty: Period.

Lardo: No way, dude. You’ve meet him multiple times, right?

Bitty: twice, 3 times if you count the disaster at the Haus

Lardo: He totally remembers you, dude. You’re unforgettable.

Lardo: You’re like a delightful minor superhero.

Lardo: You’re Antman.

Bitty: Ugggghhh this is the worst

Bitty: and Antman, seriously? We are SO gonna talk about that later

Lardo: Bitty, bro of my heart, it’s truth time. You sitting down?

Bitty: *sits*

Lardo: Good.

Lardo: Here’s the thing. Kent Parson is just a dude. A dude with some fucked-up history respective to one JLZ, but still just a dude.

Bitty: I know, but…

Lardo: Hush, Padawan.

Bitty: -_- *hushes*

Lardo: He’s probs not an evil person. You’ve only ever seen him in relation to J, and they went thru some messed up shit as kids. When he’s not dealing with that, he’s probably a boring-ass adult with a job and a cat. You can’t judge him forever based on the 3 times you’ve met.

Lardo: Was he awful the other times?

Bitty: Well no, mostly just at Epikegster

Bitty: But he was Really Bad that time

Lardo: I get it Bits, but if that’s his only awful moment, then the dude already has like a 67% not-awful rate.

Bitty: So you’re saying I’m all worked up over nothin?

Lardo: Maybe? Give him a chance.

Lardo: You don’t have to be BFFs. Just be professional and friendly until he gives you a reason not to be. If it turns out he’s a dickhead, you have my blessing to fuck up his shit.

Bitty: Thanks Lards. Mind if I snap you outfit choices later?

Lardo: Do it. Matching polish?

Bitty: Yes’m but toes only. I miss your help with fingers. It gets all smudgy when I do it

Lardo: I miss you, bro.

Bitty: You too :-*

_/_/_/ \_\_\_

Kent pressed the center button on his phone again…8:51am. This was officially the longest morning in the history of time.

So far he’d gone for a run, made a smoothie, showered, arranged the throw pillows, hidden the dopey photo of him and his sis at Disneyland, brushed Kit. Now he was sitting on the couch, running shoes bouncing on the marble coffee table as he waited for the Fancy Feline team to arrive. Maybe he should make coffee? He hopped up, re-fluffed the pillows, and headed to the kitchen.

The crew arrived promptly at nine, accepting the hot mugs of coffee Kent passed around. Eric shook his hand and started up a pleasant and professional stream of small talk as the photographer set up tripods and the assistant unfolded white umbrellas.

Unfortunately, Kit decided this was her party and she could hide if she wanted to. She spent the first hour perched on the bookcase, refusing to budge for treats or catnip.

Kent couldn’t blame her. Usually it was just her and him in the apartment, and even when he had people over, she generally ignored them and slept in the bedroom on the Monsieur Taco pillow he won her at Coney Island. Having a half-dozen strangers in her space, hovering over her with cameras and lights? He’d probably peace out too, if he were her.

After thirty minutes and no success, Kent relinquished the catnip to the assistant and excused himself to start a fresh pot of coffee. From the kitchen counter, he found himself watching Eric.

Eric was frowning as the drama unfolded, his lean torso hunched in concentration. His right foot tapped impatiently on the rug. It wasn’t Eric’s job to get Kit to participate. Eric had explained this to Kent while they were setting up, that his role today was to make sure they got all the shots they needed for the campaign.

As Kent watched him now, Eric nodded to himself like he’d made a decision and marched over to the bookcase. He began talking animatedly with the photographer and gesturing rapidly, taking charge of the situation like a tiny major general. Kent was impressed. Hell, even Kit watched him with interest.

Kent felt a little like a jerk – he’d always thought Eric was childish and annoying, based on their past brief interactions and Eric’s animated Twitter feed (not that he’d internet stalked him, pssh). But maybe Kent had it wrong. This version of Eric seemed full-to-bursting with charisma and natural leadership. Hell, even Queen Kit respected it.

As Eric directed the strategy to coax Kit off her perch and over to the windowsill, Kent couldn’t help but stare. Eric glowed warm and golden, like Southern sunlight was radiating from his pores. He looked good in control.

Kent’s stomach did a pleasant swoop as he thought about Eric taking control in other ways. Or what it would take to convince Eric to give up that control, to go soft and pliant and let Kent – or someone, whatever – do the controlling.

His chest tingled warmly. This probably wasn’t the best train of thought for a professional gathering; nothing like sporting a quarter chub at ten a.m. with people here to photograph your cat. He sighed, rearranged his junk, and headed back into the living room with the coffee pot.

The rest of the shoot ran smoothly. Kit, once she felt comfortable, totally hammed it up for the camera. Eric took behind-the-scenes videos and sent the best ones to Kent. They all shared high-fives when a video Kent tweeted of himself ineptly juggling cat toys got retweeted by George Takei. In celebration of their good social media fortune, Kent poured everyone mimosas.

Before Kent knew it, it was late afternoon and the photographer’s assistant started to disassemble the equipment. Eric herded everyone to the sofa where he handed out packets of instructions and debriefed them on next steps, and then the crew shook hands and headed out one by one.

As Kent shut the door after the last person, he wandered into the kitchen to find Eric still in the apartment, loading the dishwasher.

“Dude, you really don’t need to do that. I can do it after you go.”

“Kent Parson,” Eric scolded, “my mama would never forgive me if I left a host with a mess to clean up. It’s nothin’, really.”

“Thanks, man,” Kent replied. It was cool of Eric to offer and, if Kent was being honest, he probably would have left it a mess until his housecleaner came tomorrow. He started to consolidate cardboard containers of Chinese food.

They worked in silence in the spacious kitchen, making quick work of the cleanup. Kent caught Eric humming to himself. He recognized the tune – All For You by Janet Jackson – and sang along to Eric’s humming.

Eric let out a surprised huff, his cheeks pink. “Oh lordy! Was I singing that out loud?”

Kent just laughed and pulled out his phone, and one of his favorite pop mixes began playing from hidden speakers. Eric bopped his head to Janelle Monae as he dried the glasses. Kent lip-synced into a bottle of soy sauce like it was a microphone.

As Kent reached around Eric’s shoulder to place the wine glasses on a high shelf, their eyes met and Kent winked. He’d enjoyed a few mimosas and Eric was cute, so sue him. He just thought it’d be fun to make Eric blush, and his efforts were thoroughly rewarded. Eric’s blush spread from his face down his neck, reddening the soft skin at the base of his throat.

Kent felt the warm tingly feelings in his chest again. Shit, Eric was cute.

Abruptly, Eric turned and said, “I really should get going. We’ve got the kitchen under control and I need to upload these videos before tomorrow.”

Kent felt oddly deflated, although of course Eric was going to leave when they finished cleaning. He should probably apologize in case his wink had made Eric uncomfortable. Kent spent his days around gross hockey players, maybe he’d just committed some corporate sexual harassment shit and he didn’t even know it. Kent fished around for something to say that didn’t make him sound like a creeper.

He smiled and tried, “Kit really enjoyed having you here today. You’re good with cats.”

“Ha, thanks.” Bitty twisted the dishtowel in his hands. “I’m not really a cat person, but Kit’s great. Y’all’ve got a really special bond.”

“Maybe you could come over and get some more candid shots sometime?” Kent made a face. For Christ’s sake, he sounded ridiculous. “I mean, the ones today were really good.”

Eric’s face did something complicated. Kent watched him bite his bottom lip.

“Thanks,” Eric replied finally, “but no. I should go.”

“Oh,” Kent exhaled, “Yeah, of course. Sure thing, man.”

Kent helped Eric retrieve his things and walked him to the entryway. As Kent shut the door behind him, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

He was so fucked.

#bittyparse #eric bittle #kent parson #kit purrson #omgcp #omgcp fanfic #omgcp fic #kent plays for the rangers #and kit purrson is queen of the world #well queen of my heart #hope you like it!#this is my first time posting tumblr fic #pls tell me if I'm doing it wrong!

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