#Ransom/Holster as a background pairing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pongpalace · 7 years ago

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too complicated for simple labels (but they sure do help)

So @ericfuckingbittle made these incredible aro!March icons and @abominableobriens mentioned something about aro!March in a qpp with Ransom while he’s still dating Holster in their tags and so I projected all my own grey-aro feelings onto March because I’m really not sure there can ever be enough fic about romantic identities and non-romantic relationships.

March has never understood the big deal about crushes.

She’s never had one if she’s being completely honest with herself, always staying quiet when her friends started talking about whose hand they accidentally brushed and if maybe that meant they should ask them to the school dance. There was that one memorable time in the summer before Samwell when March worked at an outdoor summer camp and got tired of staying quiet while her best friend wouldn’t shut up about how much she liked her new boyfriend, how great he was, how Annie still got butterflies when he held her hand, so March said she had a crush on one of the older counsellors. He looked much better when he kept his avatars on and his mouth shut, but his tattoos were pretty cool and with the long days she worked with him, she really didn’t have the time or energy to crush on anyone else and she wanted to try having a crush anyways.

March scraped the crush after the third time she found herself talking about his calves and his ass in the ugly basketball shorts he always wore when Annie and Félix asked her about her crush during one of their biweekly “we’re-overworking-ourselves-now-to-have-money-in-the-school-year-so-treat-yoself” nights. Annie kept talking about the flowers Greg had sent to her desk job, and Félix was going on and on about the eye contact he’d make with a new barista at his favourite coffee shop and March realizes that she never actually wants to talk to her “crush” beyond planning and organizing the activities so the next time it comes up she tells them that she’s gotten over him and that’s the end of March's crush.

♠ ♠ ♠

March goes to a Samwell Pride Society meeting with April at the beginning of the second semester of their frog year. April’s been a part of the Pride Society on campus since they started; she came to Samwell knowing she liked girls way more than she liked guys (“Anything is more than zero,” she’d say with a laugh when the topic of her sexuality came up) and was somehow able to balance being an active member of the club with their volleyball schedule. If she wasn’t at the team house or with March, it was usually a safe bet that April was in the Pride office, tucked away the corner of the Student Union building with the best view of the parking lot. April made sure everyone on the volleyball team knew that they always had an open invitation to go with her to the meetings every week, but because March’s Intro to Geography course in first semester was at the same time, it takes a semester to accept April’s invitation.

The Pride office is exactly what March pictured when she thought of a place for Pride: bowl of condoms and dental dams on the desk; a shelf on the bookshelf stuffed full of pamphlets on how to have safe sex with all genders; boxes of sex toys piled up under a sign that says BINGO PRIZES DO NOT TOUCH (Liam) ; and a giant rainbow flag pinned up on the wall.

“Guys, March; March, guys,” April says, waving a hand at the two guys on the couch before jumping up onto the desk to commandeer the mouse from the gorgeous dark haired girl at the computer.

“Uh, hi guys,” March says to the room at large, moving her arm in a half aborted wave and wishing that April was better at introductions. One of the guys on the couch waves back, cheeks dimpling and nose scrunched like he’s trying not to laugh at her. The other guy pinches him in the thigh and readjusts so they sit closer together, and March takes the invitation to go sit on the couch with them.

“I’m Mason,” the pincher says. He points over his shoulder to the guy whose lap he’s practically sitting in now. “This is Eli. That’s Isabella.” Mason almost knocks Eli in the teeth when he jerks his head back at the girl behind the desk. She looks up from the computer and offers March a warm smile. March finds herself staring as Isabella is drawn back in whatever April is doing on the computer. She shakes herself out of it when more people come into the office and Mason introduces them to March in between bemoaning the updated reading list his advisor has given him for his thesis.

Isabella starts the meeting when most horizontal surfaces have someone sitting on them by acknowledging the land they’re meeting on belongs to the Wampanoag people and thanking them and the Ones who came before them. Beyond that, March loses track of the meeting as they hash out housekeeping details for the upcoming fundraiser. Her eye gets caught on a poster with the same rainbow flag as the one on the wall at the top and a colourful assortment of other pride flags and their meaning underneath.

There’s apparently nothing else on the agenda other than the fundraising problem because as it gets solved, people start leaving. March stands when Mason and Eli stand, leaving with a fist bump and a salute, but April is still at the computer talking with someone so March continues to stare at the poster. She’s stuck trying to work out what aromantic means, when someone clears their throat. She jumps to see Isabella beside her.

“Oh sorry,” Isabella says, tucking a strand of hair behind her left ear from where it’s escaped her braid. “I just wanted to ask if you enjoyed the meeting.” Her smile is even better up close.

“I did, yeah,” March replies. She didn’t hear a word past the greeting, but she thinks she’s learned most of the identities that make up the LGBTQA+ acronym and their accompanying flags, plus some extras that she didn’t even know existed.

“Kinda overwhelming, isn’t it?” Isabella asks. She jerks her chin towards the poster, having seemingly followed where March’s gaze found the green-white-grey-black flag of aromanticism again.

“There’s so many labels,” March says.

Isabella laughs softly. “They’re are good for people who want them. Especially when you’re usually marginalized by the mainstream, it’s nice to have something to claim as yours, y'know?”

March nods absently, not sure she can really relate. Her experience isn’t much to write home about, but she does know that she likes doing things with men and women. No one has ever made her feel bad about either so she never really thought to give herself a label. Bisexual probably fits if she needs one but doesn’t know enough to decisively choose.

“What’s 'aromantic' mean?” March asks suddenly, stuck on the different ending.

“Do you understand what asexuality is?” Isabella asks. March hesitates before she nods, Félix was pretty vague on the details when he told her about himself, so Isabella explains anyways.

“So simply put, asexuality is the absence of sexual attraction right? Aro is basically the same except it’s the absence of romantic attraction.”

“Romantic attraction?” March hasn’t ever heard the two words put together like that.

“Uh, the part of you that wants to like um, date someone. Crushes and stuff.” Isabella gives March a moment to consider that before speaking again. “So you gonna come back to another meeting?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Isabella’s responding smile is dazzling.

After her second Pride meeting, March goes back to the apartment Isabella shares with two other poli-sci majors. They’re almost caught bare-assed on the couch but Isabella was smart enough to lock the deadbolt when they came in so March is able to grab their clothes and run as directed to the Isabella’s room (down the hall, second door on the right) while Isabella wraps herself in a throw blanket to let in her disgruntled roommate. The next time March goes to Isabella’s apartment, the same roommate, March now knows her name is Zoey, pointedly turns up her music when she sees March at the door. Isabella says she likes the feel of March’s blush under her tongue when they’re behind closed doors which only causes the blush to go further; a win for both of them really.

♠ ♠ ♠

April catches March on her way over Isabella’s after practice three months after March’s first Pride meeting.

“Off to Isabella’s?” April asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. The effect is ruined by the bruise she’s got across her cheekbone from a spike from the game before last. They won the set off the block so she wears the bruise proudly.

“Don’t wait up,” March replies, wrapping her wet hair into a bun so it’ll stay out of her face.

“Oh damn, it’s getting serious then?” April says.

“No?” March pauses in shrugging on her track jacket.

“Have you DTR?”

“What?”

“Defined the relationship.”

“Why?” March wrinkles her nose. She isn’t sure what to the make of the look April sends her.

“Aren’t you guys like, together?”

“We’re just friends,” March replies slowly, stupidly feeling like it’s the wrong answer even though she knows it isn’t. Her and Isabella aren’t so cliche that they don’t talk when they have sex, or before or after, but the topic of relationships or romance hasn’t ever come up since Isabell’s explanation of aromanticism.

“Oh.” April’s silence feels loaded, but March waits her out with furrowed brows. “You might want to make sure you’re on the same page,” April finally says. March’s frown deepens but she nods and slips her feet into her shoes and leaves the changeroom. She frowns for the entire walk to Isabella’s.

Zoey opens the door when March knocks.

“She’s in her room,” she sighs, rolling her eyes but stepping back to let March in. She goes back to the kitchen table and makes eye contact with March while she puts her headphones back. March can just barely hear a heavy bass coming from them that gets louder as March crosses the kitchen to the hall. She knocks softly on the doorframe, letting herself in when Isabella calls, “come in!”

Isabella, sitting on her bed and dressed only in a sports bra and pajama shorts, smiles when she sees March. “Hey babe, whatsup?”

The epithet makes March’s stomach clench unpleasantly even though Isabella’s called her that before. April also called her babe, but she calls everyone babe and now that March thinks about it, she’s never heard Isabella call anyone else babe.

“Can we talk?” March says instead of hello. She winces at the rudeness and quickly backtracks. “I mean, hey, I’m good. Can we talk?”

Isabella’s smile dims slightly and she stretches to grab the hoodie hangie beside her bed. “Sure.” She pulls it on and doesn’t make room on the bed for March to sit but that’s okay; she wouldn’t sit anyways.

March takes a deep breath. “Are we dating?”

Isabella’s smile is completely gone. “I’m gonna say no now, but know my answer’s changed in the last 2 minutes,” she says carefully.

“I’m aromantic.” March hasn’t said the words out loud before, but the more she thought about it after learning the word, the more the label settled in her bones. Saying it out loud lifts something from her shoulders and she can breathe deeper. March understood now what Isabella had originally meant by the labels being good for people; she just forgot that other people might find knowing your labels is helpful.

Isabella’s expression softens. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” March says. “I just uh, kinda thought it was the same for you?” Retrospectively she realizes how naive that is. She forces herself to look up from floor that she made the confession to and sees hurt flash across Isabella’s face. “It wasn’t just sex!” March blurts, stupidly realizing too late how that might’ve sounded. “I really do care about you. I just don’t have uh, feelings for you. And I don’t think I ever will.”

“I know what aromanticism is,” Isabella says softly. She’s looking down at the bed, idly picking at a loose thread.

“I’m sorry,” March says again.

“S’not your fault,” Isabella replies. “Not really.” She quiet for a beat. March watches her jaw work before she finds the words she needs. “I really care about you too. But... we can’t keep doing this.” She motions between them.

March nods. “I’m really sorry.” It comes out as a little more than a whisper. She meant what she said about really caring for Isabella and will really miss her as a friend.

She listened and laughed loudly at March’s jokes even when March laughed through the punchline. They had different enough movie tastes that netflixing and chilling sometimes turned out to just be netflixing and honestly, March will miss having someone to hang out with outside of her teammates.

Isabella must hear something in March’s voice because she gets up off the bed and pulls March down for a hug. “We’ll still be friends,” she says into March’s collarbone. “I just need some time to get over this.”

“‘Kay,” March says, mostly into Isabella’s bun. Isabella runs a hand up March’s spine once, twice, three times, before giving March a final squeeze and stepping back, well out of March’s space.

“I’ll see you around,” she says, smiling for the first time since it was wiped off.

“Not if I see you first.” It’s cheesy but it makes Isabella’s smile turn more sincere when March says it. She manages a real smile back too.

She leaves Isabella’s room, ignoring the questioning look from Zoey and letting herself out of the apartment. The walk back to her dorm is darker than normal, even though it’s not nearly as late it usually is when she makes the walk. She knows that she did the right thing but she’s still sad about having to do it.

If this what not getting crushes feels like, she can’t imagine actual romantic feelings being much fun.

♠ ♠ ♠

March meets Justin at a Student Athlete Leadership Seminar at the beginning of sophomore year. His name tag says Justin but he introduces himself as Ransom when they’re partnered together for the trust obstacle course. March eyes him skeptically at the discrepancy but he easily leads her around the course when it’s her turn to be blindfolded even after she accidentally makes him stub his toe. He’s really good at all of the other teamwork exercises disguised as games too. The woman running the morning session makes sure to compliment their teamwork, and March can admit the high five they exchange is pretty epic.

They sit together during lunch where March learns that “Ransom” is his hockey nickname because, “Bro, Ransom just rolls nicely off the tongue, y’know?” He spends the rest of the break trying to come up with a nickname for her and is weirdly frustrated when nothing sticks.

“What’s your last name?”

“Kobierzyńska.”

“Bless you.”

“That’s rude.”

“Right, sorry.” Justin sounds surprisingly sincere. “I can’t make a nickname outta something I can’t pronounce.” He taps at his bottom lip. “You’ll get one though, don’t worry,” he promises as they take their seats back in the auditorium for the lecture portion of the seminar.

“I’m really not that worried,” March tells him. The wounded noise he makes causes several people to whip around in their seats to shush him, causing March to stuff her fist in her mouth to stifle her laughter.

The lecture actually starts, and Justin is focused, though he mumbles to himself when the lecturer makes points he doesn’t agree with. March is inclined to second Justin's mumbles; the frat boy wannabe 40-year-old giving the lecture seems to have a lot of opinions about women’s sports in college for someone whose career never brought him close to actual women athletes.

“Well that was a waste of an afternoon,” Justin says when they’re allowed to leave.

“It was a full day thing,” March points out, squinting into the setting sun as they leave the building. They walk in the same direction without talking about it.

“Yeah, but the morning was okay. We kicked ass at the games!”

“They weren’t games. And it wasn’t a competition.”

Justin scoffs. “They were. Games rolled up as ‘trust exercises’-” he actually makes the quotation marks, two at the beginning with his left hand and two at the end with his right. “-are still games no matter how they’re packaged to make it seem like we were learning something.”

“Well I don’t know about you, but I learned a lot in the afternoon,” March sniffs, unable to keep a straight face for long.

“Fuck off.” Justin's grinning when he shoves March’s shoulder. She laughs brightly as she bounces off and then on the sidewalk.

They get dinner together at the dining hall, and Justin continues his pursuit of a nickname for March.

“Greater men than you have tried,” March tells him. “I’m unnicknameable.”

“Unnicknameable March?” Justin tries.

“‘S an oxymoron.”

“That’s what makes it funny.”

“No.”

When Justin has to run off to a late practice, he asks for her number just in case he thinks of anymore nicknames. March laughs at the excuse but happily gives him her number. Almost immediately Justin starts their message thread when he texts her about the unfairness of preseason practice with a captain who doesn’t believe in excuses. March has little sympathy for him, Becka has started the year with her sights set on a winning title and hasn't relented yet but comparing captain stories between sports is fun.

Volleyball season is in full swing so March doesn’t get to as many Pride meetings as she did last year. When she make it to events though, Isabella always has a smile for her, though it’s not quite the same smile as before. March will take it though; she missed her over the summer but understood there were boundaries she needed to respect.

April becomes the second person to know March that is aromantic during a tournament roadie and neither can sleep. March speaks into the darkness of their hotel room and April is quiet for so long that March starts to think their shared nervous silence hasn't actually been all that shared after all. April eventually replies and is exactly as supportive a best friend needs to be, though it takes a couple tries for her to completely understand the term.

“But you’ve had sex.”

“Yeah.”

“With Isabella.”

“Yeah. And other people.”

“And did you like her?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same thing.”

“...start from the beginning again.”

“Okay, like, I liked--like Isabella. I like talking with her, and watching movies with her, and kissing and having sex but none of the feelings I have for her are romantic.”

“But that’s what Kara and I do and we’re very romantic.”

“Yeah but none of that is exclusively romantic.”

“Ohhhhhhhh."

The win the tournament that weekend.

♠ ♠ ♠

Through their excessive texting and snapping once they find each other on all social medias, March and Justin discover that they’re taking the same anatomy class, though in different sections. Weekly study dates become a thing that turn into twice weekly and then three times weekly right before midterms. Midterms finish and November hits and the hockey season is in full swing, completely overlapping the volleyball season and there’s a weird week or so where Snapchat is the only way they see each. After they have a weekend long sleepover to catch up, it’s volleyball finals and Justin brings half the hockey team to cheer when Samwell ends the season in first place. Then it’s Christmas and the new semester and Justin and March sit next to each other in the second half of their anatomy class. Their matching notebooks were gag Christmas gifts from Holster that they unironically use with the fancy pens they gifted each other.

Anatomy gets cancelled in the first week of February and because of their other class workloads, March doesn’t see Justin in person for a couple days. April tells March that she’ll never miss Justin because when he’s not there, March doesn’t shut up about him.

“Sounds like someone’s got a crush,” Nora says from across the cool down circle as March is telling April and Becka about the plans she had with Justin, froyo, and a movie that night.

March frowns at the word crush, her stomach swooping down.

“Not everything has to be about romance,” April tells Nora.

“Thanks A,” March mumbles, wondering if she’s been wrong in assuming a crush had nothing to do with her and Justin’s relationship.

Justin is hands down one of her best friends. They’re in contact constantly and he’s one of the first people March wants to talk to when she gets any sort of news. He knows her order at Annie’s and Denny’s--and she makes a lot of substitutions to the grand slam breakfast. He comes to her dorm if they both need a break from their respective teammates, to watch episodes of How It’s Made with her. They alternate who gets to be the little spoon depending on who has more deadlines that week.

March values her friendships with Félix and Annie and April and most of the volleyball team but she’s pretty sure none of them get her on a level like Justin is able to- he picks around the sun chips when they share a bag of Munchies just because he knows those are her favourite, while simultaneously handing her the orange skittles because he hates them and she doesn’t. And March has met the guys on the hockey team and no offence but they either have no emotions or too many emotions. She thinks Justin finds some relief from both extremes when they hang out together, but now she's wondering if maybe there's been another reason they spend as much time as they can together.

“I gotta go,” March says, getting up out of the butterfly stretch she’d been thinking in. April has wide eyes and kicks at Becka when she tries to stop March.

In the change room, March barely stops to pull sweats over her spandex. She doesn’t zip up her jacket over her crewneck sweater until she’s hit by a blast of February wind and even then she tries to do it up while she walks but just ends up fighting with the zipper for the entire walk to the Haus. She knocks on the door as she’s opening in, waving to Bitty and Jack in the kitchen, saluting Holster and Shitty on the green couch before taking the stairs to the attic two at a time, almost 90% sure that’s where Justin will be based on her familiarity of his schedule. He jumps at his desk when she practically kicks open the door.

“Jesus H. Christ you scared me,” he says, leaning the chair back on two legs like he does when he's ready to take a break from his books but hasn't let himself yet. “I thought I was supposed to come to yours?” His smile is confused but he doesn't look made about the interruption.

March crosses the room and knocks the chair back to four legs with a foot on the rung before she speaks. “Are we dating?” she asks. A wave of deja vu hits her, but Justin’s cheeks colour differently than Isabella’s did.

“Uh, no.” Justin draws the last syllable out while looking guiltily over at the bunk beds him and Holster share.

All the muddled up feelings that powered March’s walk in the cold over disappear and she can breath again knowing that she hasn’t accidentally hurt a friendship by not having romantic feelings again. She’s left with such a sense of relief that it drains her and it’s suddenly an effort to stay standing so she sinks onto the floor.

“Oh thank god.” She leans her head back against the desk, ignoring how uncomfortably her pony tail pushes into her head. The chair scrapes back as Justin joins her on the floor, but he sits, facing March. He grabs March’s ankle and rubs his thumb along the skin between her sock and sweat cuff.

“Um?”

“I’m aromantic,” March says and oh, it rolls off the tongue nicely the third time around too. “It’s like asexual except I can be sexually attracted to someone but I don’t understand or have romantic attraction.”

“Okay?” Justin’s thumb stills for a beat before continuing.

“I was talking about our froyo date night at practice-”

“Because it’s awesome.”

“-and Nora said I had a crush on you. And I don’t.” March makes a face, kicking half-heartedly when Justin clutches his chest like she actually offended him. “I mean I would if I could probably. I just... don’t. I love you but I don’t want to date you.”

Justin’s quiet as he processes. His thumb starts up again. “Same. I mean, I love you too but I don’t want to date you either,” he finally says. He inhales. “I’m dating Holster.” Justin blows the breath out of his nose.

March blinks, “Oh, wow. Uh, congrats.” The news manages to be surprising and unsurprising at the same time. Holster and Justin work just as well together as Justin and March.

“Thanks,” Justin blushes. He has a really dopey smile on his face. “It’s like really new- I was gonna tell you tonight actually, but…" He shrugs, trailing off. "I’m really happy.” The admission comes with a small smile that makes March's heart happy.

“I’m glad.” March surges forward and wraps her arms around Justin’s neck. His hugs are probably her favourite bar-none. “Does that mean froyo date nights have to stop?” She’s only half joking.

“Oh no,” Justin is quick to reassure. March can feel him playing with her pony tail. “Holzy knows you’re my other best friend. He’ll just probably want to come cuddle more.”

“Only if I’m the middle spoon.”

Her pony tail tickles her neck when Justin sighs into it it. “Only every second cuddle sesh.” He squeezes her once more before pulling back. March grabs his face when he makes to get up off the floor though, keeping him in place.

“Thank you,” she says seriously.

“Welcome,” he replies. He kisses her forehead before getting up and that’s not something he’s ever done before, but neither of them have ever said "I love you" to the other either.

“Froyo?” Justin holds out a hand. March lets him pull her up and she zips up her jacket properly while he struggles into his. They race down the stairs, almost taking out Jack in the process. Justin shouts a sorry, bro-ing up what little Canadian accent he has from Toronto, and fist bumps Holster on his way out. Holster offers his fist to March too. She bumps, and even does the explosion that the end just to make Justin laugh. Holster insists they try a three way first bump so it’s another 10 minutes before March and Justin are out in the cold, on their way for froyo.

Crushes to March are an abstract concept, kinda like the concept of doing her dishes right after she dirties them. She doesn’t understand crushes or romantic feelings and it’s sitting across from Justin, who’s got a red ring around his mouth from trying to lick the bottom of his container but gamely offered March a bite of his pineapple froyo when he thought she’d like it, that she really feels okay with that.

She doesn’t need a romantic partner when she’s got the friends she does.

#omgcp #omgcp fic #omgcprarepairs #Check Please #March omgcp #Romantic identities #Queer Platonic Partners #Ransom/Holster as a background pairing #in which i project very heavily onto March #like the whole first paragraph could be in my autobiography if i changed the counselor to a foreman #i hope it's clear that they're technically in a qpp at the end but neither have the vocabulary to call it what it is #this also turned more into march learning about herself and her identity because i think that's a really important part #there's hardly anything about romantic identity anywhere #and every time i remember that i have a word to explain why i didn't have crushes to compare with my friends as a kid makes me really happy #it should be noted that the bit about labels being helpful for people is only true for some people #and it's completely okay to not like or want or need labels #anyways i hope someone likes this and maybe it helps someone with their romantic identity and if you ever wanna talk about aromantiscm i got #everyone's back #i writ i write i wrote

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halfabreath · 3 years ago

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Holster goes on Survivor after graduating, part 2

here! we! go! part one here, tag here

so Holster's got a strategy to update and an ex lover to deal with and like. He and Esther didn't end great.

I feel like we don’t talk enough about why Holster’s chirped so much for hooking up with Esther in canon? Like there’s mention of a rash and a saga that requires an email but we don’t really know?

but essentially Holster likes Esther and is made fun of for it and I can’t imagine that feels good for her? And they probably didn’t do it in front of her but surely that’s not great for anyone’s mindset

Holster and Esther start dating after Winter Screw and she’s so enamored with this sweet dork who sings to himself while he brushes his teeth but the second he’s around his friends she feels like he doesn’t change per se but he showcases such different parts of himself and she likes what he doesn’t show! She’s into that! But that’s Holster like a large percentage of the time and Esther’s got a life of her own so they’re on again off again, Esther doesn’t come to kegsters or games and things fizzle and reignite a couple of times until Holster becomes a captain

Esther knows in her bones Holster will never ever ever ever ever ever choose her over his team (especially Ransom, like what’s the deal there?) and honestly Esther Does Not Enjoy having intimate conversations about how things make her feel and she’s really good at talking her way around her problems so when They break up Esther’s trying to articulate how she feels around SMH she says “I hate who you are when your uniform is on” and for Holster, who’s entire identity rests on being on A Team (literally his position on the team is being part of a tiny two person team within the larger team) this is his life this is what makes him happiest this is how he feels most himself so Holster hears “I hate the thing that makes you you”

So yeah! They broke up and then avoided each other and didn’t really get closure but also neither of them are bitter, it just felt kind of like “man I miss hanging out with them but yikes who was I at that point??”

of COURSE the first challenge involves the exes having to work together in pairs for their tribe and it’s a clusterfuck and Esther is downright cold to him. She’s sending him all the bad vibes in the world and Holster’s now legitimately worried he destroyed her life with their breakup because there’s some tangible animosity there and then they lose the first challenge and Holster’s wondering why he even got out of bed this morning when Esther pops up behind him and says “come with me, I need your long ass arms for coconuts”

The SECOND they’re out of earshot from the camp Esther‘s like “I’m really sorry I was so mean but I think it’s a huge advantage for the rest of the exes to think we hate each other so they don’t suspect an alliance”

Holster: So you don’t hate me? We’re good?

Esther: Good isn’t the word I’d use, Adam

Holster: That’s fair, I wasn’t a very good boyfriend. But I’ve got your back and we’re going to the top three, you good with that? Here, have a coconut wait let me open it for you

Bada bing bada boom, alliance

Don't get me wrong, it's awkward. Like, really awkward. The vibe of this island is uncomfortable and the near-constant rain for the first five days certainly doesn’t help and their tribe loses three immunity challenges in a row so this alliance is TESTED but Esther and Holster always surreptitiously check in by having lightning fast strategy sessions by the well or when everyone has left camp and they’re SO careful to maintain the illusion that they hate each other when they’re actually earning back trust day by day

Holster’s SUPER helpful around camp. He always offers to carry heavy things and makes people laugh and always knows exactly where the machete is and delivers coconuts to people when they’re resting but it’s miserable

There’s this SWEET moment where, after watching Esther shiver for three days straight Holster takes the machete to the woods and cuts off the bottom half of his sweatshirt to make a scarf/towel/wrap for Esther and they pretend like she did it out of spite and honestly? It’s a power move that helps Holster gain access to this smaller faction of people so they have more intel because the other contestants are like this helpful strong idiot need someone to look out for him

It also means Holster’s running around this island in a cropped sweatshirt and compression shorts

The Himbofication of Adam Birkholtz is complete

And even though Holster’s constantly surrounded by people, hungry, wet, participating in incredibly strenuous physical challenges, and at Tribal Council every night it’s still better than having to hear Ransom say they’ll never be together

Esther can fully tell Something Is Up. At first she just thought it was the stress of the game and the circumstances but then during a challenge she and Holster are on a platform way out in the water waiting for their turns on a relay race and they’re actually completely alone for the first time in days and she absolutely uses that time to interrogate Holster because she’s efficient, damn it

And Holster’s annoyed she’s taking his head out of the game and he’s exhausted and hungry and he’s the last leg of their team which means if he loses they all go to Tribal AGAIN and he can’t let his team down, he really can’t so the whole thing bursts out because he just wants her to stop and it goes like:

Esther: Look, I know you’re annoyed but you’re not telling me something and I think you can see why that would be concerning to me given the fucking context

Holster: It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, you know I’d never jeopardize this for us

Esther: No, that’s not what I think it’s just -

Holster: Holy hell, all I did was tell Ransom that I’m in love with him, are you happy?? NOW SWIM, SHAPIRO

Esther, while diving: I FUCKING KNEW IT

Holster, under his breath: that makes one of us, you could have told me. saved me a lot of time. Rude.

So now Holster’s just admitted this before his ex and 7 million viewers and oh yeah he’s gotta swim through an obstacle course so he and his team can eat today

And finally, FINALLY, their tribe wins. Holster gives it everything he’s got to gain ground (water?) and win it for the team and he’s just laying in the sand, trying desperately to catch his breath, Jeff Probst screaming in the background, while his whole tribe swarms him and if he closes his eyes he swears he can feel the ice under his feet and hear the clack of the sticks and pucks and it’s the first celly he’s earned in years and it feels incredible but it makes him ache for Samwell

Jeff notices that he’s tearing up and of COURSE asks what it’s all about and Holster’s swallowing back tears when he says “I’ve spent my whole life playing on one team or another and after graduating from college I suddenly wasn’t? And I didn’t know how much I missed it until I was on a team again and I even though I love my friends I think this is the first time I’ve let myself admit that things aren’t like they used to be and that I’m not, either”

So Ether’s watching her ex cry on national television and for the first time she understands exactly how deeply he loves his team? And how hard he tries to make them proud of him? And suddenly a lot of their relationship makes a hell of a lot more sense

After the challenge Holster’s laying in a hammock and Esther rolls into it with him and just says “We’re good. Top three?”

Holster, beaming: Bro! Top three!

Esther: What did I tell you about calling me bro when we’re cuddling

Holster: I thought that only applied to post-coital romantic cuddling? Unless of course you’re trying to tell me that you’re ARDENTLY in love with me

Esther: shut up

Holster: a heart full of LOVE a heart full of SONG NO FEAR NO REGRET A NIGHT AS BRIGHT AS DAY -

Ether: Hi, guys?? can someone vote me off this island please?

Part 3 coming soon!! This is so much!! But I fuckin love it!!

#survivor!holster #adam birkholtz #Adam holster Birkholtz #holster #holster af #omgcp au #Esther Shapiro #holsom au #HOLSOM

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the-lincyclopedia · 4 years ago

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* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime.

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is.

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute.

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault.

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always.

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other.

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad.

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity.

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap.

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: “Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form.

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story.

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

#mine #omgcp #omgcheckplease #check please #fic recs

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cherrymoonvol6 · 4 years ago

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absolutely no one asked for this but i will rank every kent parson pairing that i can think about (warning: SUPER subjective, but i tried)

kent/bad bob

i don’t even know what to say except NO. come fucking on. -1000000/10

kent/fry guy

i mean... first of all, LOL. second of all, if we take in account that all the times we see fry guy he’s being annoyed by either jack’s or bitty’s accomplishments/happiness, then i can see them bonding over that and going straight to the hook up. but again, come onnnnn in the best cases this is either a blatant self-insert or pushing the concept of a crack-ship, at worst this is deliberatedly ignoring richer characters in the comic in order to pair kent with the LOL option. 2/10

kent/bitty

i feel like this is the one pairing that makes NO sense at all yet i know people are gonna go for it because two conventionally attractive guys together cute. imo a lot of people go into this thinking bitty is morally superior than kent and it’s like an extension of the kent discourse and a form of a “fix-it” for him (and fix WHAT?) (if you don’t, you are so valid and please keep going). like, do you really think kent parson would give a single fuck about eric bittle? i love bitty, but c’mon. this is like the kinda thing bitty would come up with in his own head to make himself feel better about his second-hand feelings of anger and sadness over kent and jack’s history. your only shot at this is to write one or both of them ooc, which, valid i guess. 3/10

kent/holster

same thing with fry guy: holster isn’t very fond of jack, he and kent can bond over that. i can totally see holster being kent’s type, too. maybe holster wants to act some of that steamy jackparse fanfiction with him. 4/10, has potential

kent/ransom

bro did you SEE ransom’s face while talking about parse coming to the epikegster on year 3????? and kent remembering ransom on that forbidden update????? after all, ransom was the one holding kent’s body issue on parse ii. nhl guys are ransom’s weakness, 200%: they’d hook up and then they’d spent the rest of the night gushing about how hot tater is. 6/10

kent/tyler seguin

bro this pairing is like, fucking hysterical. whoever came up with this, i love you because is there anything more on brand for kent than pairing him with the irl hockey player he’s based off??? this is a crack ship done right. 6.5/10

kent/whiskey

listen....... i’d be so up for this. whiskey and kent are essentially the same person. whiskey is literally what kent would’ve been if he had gone to college. they’re SUPER ambitious and competitive, have problems opening up, it’s all about the Fronts(tm), but like. what’s that age difference, again? like, six years? idk. idk, man. if they were to end on the same team, though, they’d vibe so hard with each other... opening up to each other might be pushing it, though. whiskey must have mad respect for him because he’s a great player and same with kent! so like, if i pretend i do not see it, 7/10

kent/scraps

am i imagining it or did ngozi describe scraps as someone who sees kent as the smartest one in the room? or something like that. anyways, it’s about time that kent gets someone on his life that he can confide in and then return some of that love. if they’re not higher on the list is because i like them more as the platonic bond kent desperately needs (also i’m not sure about what the age gap is?), but friends to lovers following deep conversations and personal growth in an incredibly toxic environment? good shit. 7/10

kent/lardo

i feel like this is either a hit or miss with whether you headcanon kent as gay or bi, but even though i always think of kent as gay i’m so up for this pairing. i feel like they have so many things in common and you could truly portray them in such different settings! and i love to think about them opening up to each other. oh, the softness and tenderness that could come out of these two!!! bonus if we get jackshit as the background couple, plus that damn jackparse reconciliation. 8/10

kent/omc

i love kent parson, which means i’m always up for the idea of him getting himself a boyfriend who can challenge him and drive him to want to become a better person so that he can come out of that self-destruction spiral that his life in the nhl has been. free space, you can quite literally do anything with this. 8/10

kent/swoops

i hate to say this but this pairing, though it’s the friends-to-lovers crusade that kent deserves on his nhl life, is kind of a wild card because swoops is just a shell of a character. this pairing is kinda like kent/omc but the omc has actually appeared in canon. but again, FRIENDS TO LOVERS and there’s SO many cute and angsty and wholesome things you could get out of it. 8/10

kent/tater

listen, enemies-to-lovers isn’t my shit, i’ll admit it. but i love tater and i love kent and seeing them clashing looks like so much fun. i feel like once kent shows some of the ugly things he’s hiding inside, these two could click so well. and also that one panel with tater lifting kent off the ground with one hand, out of pure anger at this little shit trying to make jack’s nhl life a living hell, boy oh boy do i love me some of that. with them, and if done right, there could be a great balance between humour and the deep angst we all know and love from kent fics and character studies. plus, it’s going to eventually push a jackparse reconciliation. gimme all that closure baby! 9/10

kent/jack

you 200% expected this if you have seen a single post from my blog. i mean.... this literally has it all. the two characters with the richest backstories and/or development. rivals to friends to “lovers” to enemies to ??? to enemiesANDrivals to eventual lovers??? YOU pick it. you get all the angst, all the conflict surrounding each others’ expectations, the pressure of the hockey world around them, the APOLOGIES and the growing up, the delicious trope of them individually solving their shit and then coming back to each other. all the personality clashes! legends on the ice! kenny and zimms! jack and cat content! absolutely everything you could wish for. hot and steamy? we got it. angry and challenging? hell yeah. soft and forgiving, eventually? just the best of the best. you get the closure that bitty’s pov couldn’t provide, character studies, SO many different types of pining and unrequited and forbidden love... if you’re not on the jackparse life, you are missing out. come join us in hell. 1000000/10

#omgcp #parse positive #kent parson #long post

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peacerisendove · 5 years ago

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I made [this post] one blog and several years ago, and I stand by Ransom and Holster as a dynamic duo with a similar wonderful chemistry to Booster Gold and Blue Beetle. However, I have also come to see that I was ignorant of a second and underestimated pair (which also plays into how they are similar to Booster Gold and Blue Beetle): Ollie and Wicks.

They are background characters, but they still have that undeniable bond. You really can’t have one without the other just like Booster and Ted. It just doesn’t feel right. Now unlike Ransom and Holster]who have that extroverted, comedic best buddy energy like Booster and Ted, Ollie and Wicks have a more subdued, softer tone as a pair. They’re not a comedic due, but show a very natural draw to each other, a strong bond, and that private and unafraid to be earnest with each other part of a relationship.

#omgcheckplease #pacer wicks #ollie o'meara #booster gold #ted kord #They really do have that soft chemistry as well.#Can't have one without the other.

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omgcpreversebang · 5 years ago

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I Wanna See You Be Brave

Fic by willdexpoindexter

Art by dyinginjapanese

Rating: T

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Pairings: Foxtrot/Whiskey/Tango, Whiskey/OMC, background Nursey/Dex/Chowder, background Holster/Ransom, background Chowder/Farmer, background Shitty/Lardo

Summary: In which crushes are had, feelings are talked about, and chirping is indistinguishable from flirting.

Art || Fic

#omgcp #fordwhiskeytango #omgcprb #check please #omgcheckplease #2019 #submission

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likeshipsonthesea · 5 years ago

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I just saw that post about what would you do if you became disgustingly rich and the one indulgence, but can you imagine that sort of conversation taking place between the frogs? Or even the house occupants? I feel like it would be an interesting avenue for a character study! Especially since recently you mentioned the whole low income to ivy league feels you can get out of Bitty and Dex!

{hey so sorry i took so long to respond to this! work got crazy andthen i moved my entire life back home in a nissan ultima that did not have enough room and then i spent theremaining time cuddling my cats.. so yeah, just watched kingsman for the firsttime, am IN LOVE, and ready to respond to an ask.. i don’t understand my braineither}

the above? written three days ago.. to you and to everyone who’s sent in asks/prompts, please know that i DO want to respond, but my brain has been half-dead recently and i’ve started a bunch of things but can’t seem to finish them (my drafts are unfortunately filling up and my desktop has like seven starts of wips and i am Tired) so i am going to do my best here to respond to this ask now

(also the link for the post referenced above is here and for my amended thoughts on bitty’s relationship to wealth see this add on to the post you mentioned in this ask)

i was going to write out a whole fic but it’s going to have to be a fic outline kind of thing because my brain is not in the Make Words mode rn so this is what we get..

i think the conversation starts on a random night when all the boys are in the haus, let’s set it during bitty’s softie year (so zimbits and shardo are not yet together, frogs are still in their first year, jack is still captain, you get it) and let’s make it a random night where they’re all hanging out but it’s not a kegster

maybe it’s the night after a kegster, a weekend, no game or anything, and there’s leftover tubjuice to get rid of so they cut it with some orange juice (a Bad Idea) and sit on the floor of the living room and just, like,, talk for hours. the kind of meandering, heavy-and-then-not kind of talks, where you feel comfortable and languid and forget what time is, for a bit. maybe you break out into showtunes for a while, maybe you play truth or dare. who knows. it’s great. and when you notice the sun has risen and you’re well and truly fucked, well. at least you have the memories to get you through the following day

so it’s one of those nights, yeah, and it hasn’t reached morning quite yet but it’s late, sometime after yesterday (”it doesn’t count as tomorrow until you fall asleep” shitty asserts, at six a.m., leaning heavily between jack and nursey with a joint hanging out of his mouth) and they’re all sitting around, in somewhat of a lull in conversation, where everyone’s relaxing somewhat into their seats and thinking about the last topic of conversation (top hats) or maybe the one before that (family dinners) and emotions are flowing strangely and nothing seems exactly real

and then someone, we don’t know who, puts it out there, says, “what do you think you’d do if you were rich?” and yeah we’ve got a bunch of college students in this economy in the room but, well, we’ve also got a room full of ivy kids (we know, at least, that shitty and nursey and jack are not strangers to this concept) so when people blink at the asker all, ‘i dunno man’ they clarify and say, “if you were stupidly rich, like, what would be the ridiculous thing you’d do? that the tabloids would report on, people would be outraged about, you know?”

and, well, that takes a moment.

after some thinking, bitty decides he’d want a ridiculously decked out kitchen, with a rotating pantry that’s always fully stocked (either by magic or a 24/7 team of shoppers, he hasn’t decided yet)

jack frowns for a long time (probably busy storing bitty’s idea for an anniversary present at a latter date, though he doesn’t know he’s in love with bits at the time) but eventually comes up with his own private hockey rink, except the ice is made of maple syrup.

(”how would that even work,” holster asks incredulously. ransom just fist-bumps jack solemnly. o’canada plays vaguely in the background)

holster decides he’d want to be carried everywhere (”what about the dudes from wall-e bro?” ransom asks, wide-eyed, and holster pats his shoulder. “i’d come down for leg day, bro, don’t worry.” dex is ignored in the background, throwing his hands up, utterly done)

ransom wants a smart-house, completely decked out with ai, and when shitty points out that movies say that ends with the house murdering him, ransom says that if he didn’t do everything a movie told him was bad, how would he ever have any fun in life? shitty frowns for a moment, confused, but eventually proceeds without questioning too hard.

shitty, on the other hand, wants his entire house to be a library. “i don’t know exactly how i’d organize it yet,” he says, “hopefully something clever, like shit books in the bathroom or something, but i have time to work out a system.” books would be stored in ridiculous places, like the microwave, or inside the couch, and finding them would be either a delightful surprise or a frustrating adventure. dex laments to no one in the background while nursey fist-bumps shitty in solidarity.

lardo says she’d buy housing developments, lower the rents to next-to-nothing, and paint ridiculously sized murals all over the walls, make sculptures out of skylines and left-behind furniture. (”hey that sounds nice, i thought the rules were we had to be ridiculous,” ransom protests. lardo grins. “let me finish”) she would eventually amass so much wealth and real estate that she would eventually buy entire countries, until she could rule the world as a benevolent dictator.

everyone in the room shivers, because they know it’s a possibility.

nursey, mellowing the tone, says he’d get a jetpack. he hates flying but he thinks he’d be okay knowing he’s in control, and he could travel anywhere he wanted without going through the hassle of an airport. “all i’d have to pay for is the fuel,” he says, grinning, and dex rolls his eyes. “yeah, and all the inevitably property damage resulting from you operating a flying machine.” nursey, very maturely, sticks his tongue out at dex in response.

dex, for his part, doesn’t really know what he’d do. he can’t imagine having enough money to spend it irresponsibly, at least not to that degree. securing his family, with houses and cars and savings accounts, securing himself. maybe going on some fun trips. buy a nice pair of shoes. “come on poindexter, one thing.” nursey pokes dex in the side and he squirms. “if you could pick one stupid, ridiculous thing to do with your money, what would it be?”

dex thinks, trying to be outrageous but also something he thinks he would enjoy. after a series of long moments, he decides. “i’d have a swimming pool installed in my house so i could swim from room to room without having to get out once.”

the room blinks. nursey grins and pats dex on the shoulder. “there ya go, you nerd.” dex smiles, pleased, and also now wanting exactly that.

chowder, who’s been waiting patiently the entire time, finally bursts out, very quickly, “i would buy the san jose sharks and an aquarium and once a year i would make them switch places.”

“how would that even…” ransom shakes his head. chowder is beaming too much to dim his spirits.

“on that note, y’all, i think it’s time to head to bed.”

the night sky is steadily lightening and a series of yawns disperse across the room. and then the team, like their author, rises from their spots, stretches, and leaves to find their bed, dreams of stupid wealth dancing in their heads.

thank you, and good night. ;)

#check please #my writing #sort of fic #rambly #samwell men's hockey #the whole og team is here #also mild nurseydex #and some pre-zimbits #but yeah #enjoy #this was fun

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zombizombi · 5 years ago

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hummingbird heartbeat pt44

Nothing really changed, with Jeff and Kent. At least, it didn’t seem like it. Had Bitty expected things to change? Sort of. How was a more nebulous concept, it was just -- Kent and Jeff were boyfriends, now.

He thought.

He was like, 99% sure, anyway. Kent hadn’t given him many more details, even though an entire month had passed, and Jeff -- well, Jeff wasn’t interested in talking to Bitty about Kent. Bitty knew, at least, that they hadn’t been… intimate, knew that Kent hadn’t slept with Jeff yet. To hear Kent tell it, they barely touched each other. On Skype calls where Bitty saw them together, Jeff and Kent seemed the same as ever. They weren’t even sitting closer on the sofa or anything.

It was weird.

And honestly, Bitty didn’t even know why he cared so much, it was not his business. Moo Maw always said people ought to mind their own business. Except, well… Kent was Bitty’s business, so by extension, his relationship with Jeff was, too. Kind of. Right? Which meant minding it was a little more acceptable. Reasonable, even.

“I guess I thought something would happen?” Bitty said to Jack, curled up in bed one night. Their nights together were becoming more rare, would be rarer still. Jack’s season was upon them.

“Something happened. You said they talked.” Jack turned on his side a little more, tucked closer to Bitty. He ran hot fingers down Bitty’s side, tucking them up under the hem of his shirt. “Maybe they’re just still figuring things out.”

“I don’t even know if they’re dating,” said Bitty. He shivered.

“You know you have to be patient with Kent.” Jack pressed a kiss to Bitty’s neck. “Why is this bothering you so much?”

“I don’t know, I --” Bitty sucked in a quick breath as Jack’s teeth closed on his earlobe. Jack was right, he should worry about something else. It was just so hard to stop thinking. He’d never been good at that, not really, because Bitty’s mind was always sort of going, worrying about something. It was -- “Honey,” he said, as a little shiver ran down his spine.

“Maybe you need a distraction.” Pushing Bitty’s shirt up further, Jack pressed his hand flat against the small of Bitty’s back and brought his lips down to Bitty’s collarbone.

Bitty’s breath caught. “Oh?” This was probably going… good places.

“Mhm.” Jack’s breath was hot against the hollow of Bitty’s throat.

Jack was a very good distraction.

Bitty spent the rest of his time in Providence trying not to worry too much about Kent and Jeff. He had enough on his plate, anyway. It helped to pick Jack’s brain about captaining a hockey team -- the NHL season would be starting soon enough that if he wanted to really get Jack’s full laser focus, Bitty had to do it then. And he really, really wanted Jack’s full attention. Jack and Kent were different in a lot of ways, including the way they played hockey, and the advantages that could come from being able to talk to not just one, but two NHL players in leadership roles weren’t something Bitty could pass up. Advice from different perspectives and leadership styles would come in handy, was worth spending some precious boyfriend time on.

And it was apparent, several games in, that Bitty’s extra attention and work was paying off. Samwell’s season was going well -- really well, actually. A brand new first line meant big changes in play, new hurdles to overcome. The new guys were fast, good skaters, but sometimes lines took chemistry, and sometimes chemistry took a few months to build. They didn’t really have months, though, and if running drills on passing was what Samwell needed to make it to the Frozen Four, well.

Bitty spent extra time going over tape with the coaches. He worked with the boys on passing and drills, organized a couple of game nights for team bonding, tried to ensure that he was available to any of the guys if they needed him. It was great. The guys were really getting it together, and Whiskey was honestly amazing. He was really focused, really talented, and really… intense. He was the best player they’d had since Jack, and so far, they’d even managed to avoid any real injuries. Bitty allowed himself to hope for the Frozen Four.

Stirring the custard ingredients together, Bitty balanced his phone on his shoulder with his chin. “I think it might not be completely out of reach?”

Kent laughed. “Why did you say that like a question?”

“I don’t want to jinx it,” Bitty said. “You know, it’s like -- if you say too much about it, it’ll definitely end up not happening?”

“You guys are having a good season so far, though.”

Even though Kent couldn’t see him, Bitty nodded. “We are!”

“And you’re, like, working on your thesis, right?”

Bitty sighed. “Baby, that’s not until Spring. School’s barely started!” And his thesis was kind of not his highest priority at the moment. Or like, ever, but definitely not now.

“Well yeah,” Kent said, “but you’ve, like, thought about it. Right?”

Right. How did he end up dating two insane overachievers, again? Bitty poured the vanilla buttermilk custard filling into the blind-baked pie crust. “I’ll get it done! Worry about your own dang GPA!”

“Mine’s really good,” Kent said, smug and satisfied in a way that was both irritating and adorable at the same time.

“Yes, your brain is very sexy, dear,” said Bitty. “Isn’t it your bedtime?”

Kent gasped. “Not for another, like, two hours!”

Bitty opened the oven. “You are absolutely ridiculous, and I --”

“Oh my god, Eric, don’t you want to talk to me?” Kent��s voice sounded farther away, and the sound of running water filtered through the line. “What kind of pie are you making?”

“Mr. Parson,” Bitty said. “Am I on speaker phone?”

“Yes,” said Kent, after a small silence. Bitty heard the sound of a door shutting in the background.

“It’s chess pie,” Bitty said. “Who’s there?”

“What the fuck is a chess pie?” Jeff asked, and Bitty sighed. Why didn’t anyone know this?

“Y’all really need to come visit.”

“It’s good,” Kent supplied.

“All right, super chief. We play Boston on our first roadie, I think.” Jeff’s voice was closer. “Make one then.”

“We do,” Kent said. The water in the background shut off and, after a minute, Kent picked the phone back up. “I was gonna get you seats, if you wanted. And maybe you could, um.”

“Stay?” Bitty finished for him, smiling a little.

“Yeah,” Kent said. “And you can tell me all about your boys in person, so I can see how cute you look when you’re all focused.”

“Gross,” said Jeff, and Bitty laughed.

Those fuzzy, warm feelings of confidence about their season couldn’t last. Bitty should’ve known that, but everything was just going so well. The new lines were starting to gel, plays were making sense -- they could do it. They could totally do it.

At least, that’s what Bitty thought until Derek Nurse gave himself the most idiotic hockey injury ever. The game was beautiful otherwise, honestly. Everyone was playing gorgeous hockey, and Bitty was really, really proud of their progress.

In the third, Nursey slapped the puck on a rebound, sending it careening into the net over the unprepared goalie’s shoulder. It was a filthy goal. Grinning, he returned to the bench, bumping gloves with the guys as he came within reach.

“Nice goal!”

“Top shelf, Nurse!”

“Fuckin’ s’wawes--”

“Hey, thanks for the assist, Poindexter!” Nursey grinned over his shoulder.

Dex rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck crashing across the boards like that, Nursey.”

“Jeez, Dex,” Nursey said, “I’ll interpret that as ‘you’re welcome, keep it u--’” the door clicked open just as Nurse was about to swing over, and somehow, despite literal years of playing hockey, he fell. As luck would have it, he broke a bone with that foolishness, which would not only screw up everything about their game but also serve as the catalyst for the Haus becoming ground zero in a not so cold war.

Honestly, this was the universe’s way of paying Bitty back for thinking that they were doing well that season when it came to injuries. He should’ve knocked on wood.

Dex and Nursey were absolutely ridiculous -- everything one of them did irritated the other, and they weren’t, apparently, able to be reasonable in any way whatsoever. Bitty probably should’ve anticipated it, as they’d always nitpicked each other, but after the injury their feuding was on a completely different level. Slytherin and Gryffindor level, even. Everyone had assumed there’d be some nonsense with them moving in to the Haus, of course they had, it was just -- it was so, so much worse than anyone imagined. Complaining about a lack of privacy, Dex attempted to turn his bunk bed into a private oasis. When that didn’t work, he vanished into the basement, accompanied by some power tools. Bitty wasn’t sure what was going on down there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, truth be told.

When Shitty invited Bitty and Jack to come up to Cambridge to see their new place, Bitty leapt at the chance to escape the Haus for a visit with old friends. It would be great to get away from the world’s most annoying d-pair, and it’d be good for Jack to take a quick trip before his season really got going. It was their last chance.

“Welcome,” said Lardo. “To Haus 2.0.”

“This is interesting,” Bitty said, looking around the house. It definitely had the same feel the Haus used to have. Messy, lived in, vaguely gross. Rent had to be insane.

“Right on,” Jack said, accepting a beer from Shitty as he looked around. “Samwell after Samwell. I’m jealous.”

“Ahem! Allow me to give you a tour of our buckwild best friend abode,” said Shitty. He waved an arm. “It’s several degrees of dece!”

“And pancakes every Saturday,” Ransom added.

“You guys have another roommate?” Jack asked, talking around a mouthful of pie.

“Yeah,” Holster said. “She hates us.”

“Like legitimately wants us to die,” Ransom added.

“Hey, not our fault!” Shitty shoved his shades up on the bridge of his nose. “The Craigslist ad said, and I quote: must be motherfucking down to motherfucking clown.”

“That’s kind of a big ask,” said Jack.

“Oh yeah, how’s my old room at the Haus, Bits?” Lardo asked.

Bitty sighed. “Well, Dex now lives in the basement. So.”

Lardo raised a single brow.

“It’s a long story,” Bitty said.

“To rooming situations from haus to shining haus!” Shitty raised his beer, and everyone else followed suit.

“Hear, hear!”

Hanging out in Cambridge felt like old times, complete with Lardo slaughtering them all in Mario Kart. She was gracious enough to let Bitty be Peach, but the niceties ended there. They were taking a break from the game, Shitty and Rans and Holster and Jack all occupied with a board game, when Lardo leaned over a bit, bumping shoulders with Bitty.

“How’s Kent?” Lardo asked. “Are you guys still…?”

“Yes, we are.” Bitty drained the last of his beer. “He’s doing really well. Season starts soon, so he’s just been busy.”

Lardo nodded. “How many years is it, now?”

“Oh my Lord,” said Bitty. “It’s -- I don’t know. Three? Isn’t that crazy?”

“Yes,” Lardo said, passing him another beer. “Being in an LDR that long is pretty intense, bro.”

“It’s almost over,” Bitty said.

Lardo glanced at Jack, laughing about something with Shitty. “Is it?”

Ah. “Well -- no. I guess it isn’t.” Bitty rubbed the back of his neck. “But I’m going to Vegas after I graduate so it’ll just be… different.”

Lardo nodded. “Been planning that a while,” she said.

Bitty chewed his lower lip. He had been. He’d been thinking about it for a long time, actually, worried about logistics and appearances. Kent’s coming out had helped a little, but there was still no telling how the Bittles would handle their baby boy moving to Vegas to live with his boyfriend.

His boyfriend and his boyfriend, really.

Bitty spent his last night with Jack in Jack’s apartment, both of them snuggled up on the sofa with television and Jack’s favorite pie. Bitty ran fingers through Jack’s hair, smiled a little. “I’ll miss you, honey,” he said.

“I’ll miss you, too,” said Jack, curving gentle fingers around the back of Bitty’s neck.

“Yeah?” Pressing a hand to Jack’s chest, Bitty pushed up off the sofa a little. “Wanna give me something to remember you by?”

Jack laughed.

Kent put a new video up, and Bitty waited to watch it until he was home in his room, able to give it his full attention. Kent was in Jeff’s living room, sitting on the sofa wearing a faded Boston University hoodie that Bitty didn’t remember seeing before. Kent still didn’t put his face into the view of the camera, even though with Bitty out, it was truly only a matter of time before someone found the channel for real. There were a smattering of jumbled comments, a few coherently asking “IS THIS KENT PARSON?!?!?!!?!?!”, but nothing concrete. Yet.

In the video, golden sunlight streamed through the window behind Kent and Kevin curled up next to his side, her head resting on a little toy teddy bear. He scrubbed behind her ears with one hand before he began to play. The melody was sweet and familiar.

It was Rainbow Connection, the song from the Muppets.

Behind him, Jeff walked by, pausing for a moment. He laid a hand on Kent’s shoulder, for a moment, bent down, the ends of his dark hair falling into view, but the rest of him wasn’t visible on camera. His voice could be heard, just barely, murmuring something quiet — but Bitty couldn’t understand what he said. After pressing a kiss to the top of Kent’s head, Jeff wandered out of view of the camera. Kent played and sang without interruption, though Kevin had shifted, wagging her tail and staring up. Halfway through the song she laid her head back down, using the teddy bear as a pillow.

It was a serene little video, everything about it warm and soft. Domestic. Bitty’s stomach hurt a bit looking at it, and he took a deep breath. It was okay to be a little jealous, right? Surely Kent was a little jealous sometimes. Bitty was just used to having Kent all to himself, but it wasn’t bad for Kent to be with Jeff, too. He’d kind of been with Jeff the whole time they’d been together anyway, hadn’t he? And they’d had such a great summer.

It made him feel a tiny bit better to see a couple of comments asking where Sweetie’s boyfriend was, several of them decrying the lack of “cute baker” in the video.

When Bitty called on Skype that night, Kent answered from his own bedroom.

“Oh,” Bitty said. “You’re not at Jeff’s?”

Kent blinked. “No? Why would I be?”

“Well, I saw your video today and just thought --” Bitty squeezed Señor Bun. “It was really good, sweetie.”

Kent shrugged one shoulder. “You know I like to sleep in our bed.” Kit crawled into his lap and he buried one hand in soft fur. The purring was loud enough that Bitty could hear it through the computer. “Jeff’s downstairs, though.”

Of course he was. Jeff practically lived at Kent’s house. Bitty nodded.

Kent frowned. “Babe,” he said, after a moment. “Are you okay?”

“I just miss you,” Bitty said.

Kent softened all over, eyes warm and gold in the lamplight. “I miss you too, Eric,” he said. “I miss you all the time.”

“Even with Jeff there?” Bitty asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

“Yeah.” Kent slid his tongue along his lower lip before sucking it in under his teeth for a minute. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Eric,” he said. “Are you sure you’re okay with this --” he waved a hand -- “whole thing?”

“Yes,” said Bitty.

Kent tilted his head, and the light flashed on the lenses of his glasses. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, after a bit of quiet. “Me and Jeff, I mean.”

“Yes, you do,” said Bitty. Even if Kent thought they could go back, they couldn’t. Shouldn’t. “You belong together. Just like you and me.”

“Eric.” Kent rubbed the back of his neck, glancing away from the camera. “C’mon.”

“It’s fine,” Bitty said. “I mean, it’s different. I’m getting used to it. But it’s -- it isn’t bad, honey.”

“Really? ’Cause you don’t seem, like, thrilled about it,” Kent said. “You’re being weird.”

“It’s fine,” Bitty said, again. Because honestly, it was fine. And he’d be there when school was over, he’d already been looking at the job market in Vegas. “I’m not being weird. I want you to be together. Besides, it’s not like --” he cut himself off, shutting his mouth before he finished that sentence. What Jeff and Kent did was only marginally Bitty’s business, even if he could not stop thinking about it.

“It’s not like what?”

“It’s not like it’s a whole lot different from how you’ve been the entire time I’ve known you,” Bitty said, voice soft, “is what I was gonna say. Is it?”

Kent flushed. “It’s different,” he said.

Holy shit. Bitty sat up straighter, ignoring the twist in his stomach. “Kent Valeray Parson,” he said. “Did you sleep with him?”

Kent’s blush deepened. “I --”

“Oh my god,” said Bitty.

“Not yet,” Kent said.

“Oh my god,” said Bitty. But it had been so long! And Jeff was so, so hot. “Why not?”

Kent rubbed his face with both hands. “Just -- because, okay? We just haven’t.”

“If it’s because of me,” Bitty said, “I --”

“It’s not.” Kent stared down at his hands for a minute. “It’s not you.”

Bitty frowned. Did -- did Jeff not want to, or something? Oh, Lord. Maybe it was some kind of like, ‘I love you but I don’t want to sleep with you’ thing. Jeff was kind of known for fucking around. With women, granted, but still. Surely it wasn’t that Kent didn’t want to. “Honey,” he said. “Do you not want to?”

“Oh my god, Eric,” Kent said, “you have eyes, are you serious? It’s just not -- we’re not there yet, okay? Fuck.”

“Well --”

“Can we not do this?” Kent pushed Kit off his lap. “I don’t ask you about Jack, do I?”

Oh. “Okay,” said Bitty, squeezing Señor Bun. Kent was right, of course. He didn’t ask for details about Jack like that, never had. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, it’s not really my business --”

Kent was quiet for a minute, picking at a thread on his comforter. “I just don’t know if he, like. Wants to?” he said.

“Sweetie,” Bitty said. “It’s Jeff.” Jeff Troy’s reputation was well-deserved, he was pretty sure. The way he looked at Kent? Bitty was pretty sure that wasn’t the case.

“I know,” said Kent.

“He’s, um.” Bitty rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of the word. He was not going to call Jeff a fuckboy. Even though he was, according to internet message boards. “He, like, you know.” Liked to fuck. Oh, Lord. That meant -- surely Kent would ask Jeff to get tested. Bitty didn’t need to worry about that, too, did he?

“But I don’t think he’s picked up in a while?” Kent said. He chewed on his lower lip. “So, like. Maybe he’s not?”

“Or maybe he’s just saving himself for you?” Bitty countered.

That sentence was too ridiculous to bear, and after a moment, both of them laughed.

“So,” said Kent, “how ’bout them Dodgers?”

“Smooth,” Bitty said. “Real smooth.”

He missed Kent more than ever over the following few days. It wasn’t that he didn’t have enough to do. Bitty had more than enough to do, and he worried, going to bed at night, about not having enough energy to do it all. Kent sounded relaxed on the phone. Happy. Their calls were the same as ever, sweet and warm and faithful. Bitty could almost forget, sometimes, that Jeff was there -- except that Jeff was always there, always had been, and it was… hard, maybe, to think about him watching Bitty and Kent together all that time.

There was so much Bitty wanted to ask him, so much he knew Jeff wouldn’t say.

Bitty couldn’t really devote his time to cross-examining Jeff, anyway. At the Haus, Dex living in the basement was turning out not to be so bad. He was handy enough to fix the place up himself, and Bitty was certainly not going to complain about someone doing work. It needed it, and having Dex fix things kind of took some financial pressure off of everyone else -- as well as giving him something to do. It kept a little peace.

The Haus wasn’t entirely harmonious, though. Whiskey still hadn’t come around, Bitty noticed, preferring to spend most of his time elsewhere with other friends. He wasn’t being team. And as Captain, it felt like Bitty’s job to make sure all the boys were team.

All of his efforts to do so, however, fell flat. Repeatedly. On Skype with Kent, Bitty sighed a little, flopping down on his bed.

“What is wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Kent. It’s just been on my mind,” Bitty said. It was probably stupid to be so uptight about it, anyway. Kent wasn’t the most popular guy in his dressing room, either, and he did fine. Right?

“So it’s something, then,” Kent said, voice about as placid as Kent’s voice ever got.

“At the end of the day,” Bitty said, “I don’t care. I just can’t stop thinking about it and it bothers me.” Kent would know what he meant. They’d talked about it before.

“That’s, like, the definition of caring, Eric,” said Kent, voice warm.

“His high school girlfriend came into town and he didn’t even show her the Haus --”

“You mean he didn’t introduce her to you.” Kent’s voice was a little softer. “Eric --”

Bitty sighed. “That is what I meant,” he admitted. “It hurts. What am I doing wrong?”

“Not everybody is going to like you, babe,” Kent said. “Doesn’t matter what you do. I mean, I know you hate that, but Brian says that’s life or whatever.”

“I know that.” Bitty sighed again. It didn’t make him feel better, though, knowing. It didn’t help at all.

What was he going to do? He’d tried basically everything he could think of, and Whiskey still spent more time with the lacrosse team than he did at the Haus.

“It’s okay if he doesn’t want to, like, experience college the way you do,” said Kent, slowly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with one finger. “You know that.”

“But I’m his Captain,” Bitty said. “And I can’t seem to get him involved in the team, you know? Team spirit?”

“Some dudes just, like, aren’t into that,” said Kent. He shrugged. “There’s always one or two in a room. It’s no big deal, guy’s good at hockey. You’ll be fine.”

“I just want --” Bitty chewed his lower lip. What did he want? A perfect senior year? Harmony across the Haus and the best team Samwell ever had?

Jeff pushed Kent’s door open. “Your phone’s ringing,” he said.

“Aw, fuck,” said Kent, “that’s the GM’s ringtone. I gotta take this, here --” he traded the laptop for his phone, leaving Jeff on screen. “Talk amongst yourselves.”

“I --”

Kent was gone before Bitty or Jeff could protest, and Bitty rubbed the back of his neck as Jeff chewed his lower lip.

“So,” said Jeff.

“So,” Bitty said. “You, uh. Y’all --”

“What did you say you wanted there, bro?” Jeff asked, interrupting Bitty’s question.

“Nothing,” Bitty said. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair as Jeff raised a brow, clearly unconvinced. “I don’t know. There’s just one guy on my team, y’know, I just. He’s not like, a part of the team?”

“Ah,” said Jeff. He sat, then, just quietly waiting. After a few minutes, Bitty somehow ended up ranting to him, too. When he paused to breathe, Jeff cleared his throat.

“Why don’t you go ahead and take about twenty percent off ’er there, bud,” Jeff said. “Nobody’s perfect, fuck.”

“But --”

“Some guys just don’t wanna do the whole, like, thing,” said Jeff. “It’s fine. If it’s not on the ice, it’s not important. I mean, like. You said he’s playing well. So stop trying to force everybody to be all Happy Days with you.”

Bitty sighed. “I am not,” he said, “forcing anybody to --”

“Just let the guy live, damn,” said Jeff.

What sucked was that Jeff was right, and Bitty knew it. He was trying to think of a decent comeback when Kent returned, the sound of the door interrupting Bitty’s train of thought.

“Jeff, stop antagonizing Eric,” Kent said.

“Oh my god,” said Jeff, “I wasn’t even doing anythi--”

“Yeah,” Bitty said, “stop antagonizing your boyfriend’s boyfriend.”

“Hey!” Jeff ran a hand through his hair, pulling it out of his face. “I’m just being honest, man!”

“Horizontal violence,” said Bitty, and Jeff rolled his eyes.

Climbing back into bed, Kent had to crawl over Jeff. They paused for a moment, Kent half in Jeff’s lap, and Jeff leaned in to press a kiss to Kent’s mouth. When they parted he was grinning, and Kent swatted at him before pushing away to settle on the bed again.

“I miss you,” Bitty said, and he felt it with his whole heart, wasn’t sure if he meant just Kent or both of them. Watching them, Bitty realized that together they felt like home.

His chest felt tight. He missed the warmth of their Canadian summer, laughing in a rental house and sharing ice cream. Leaning his cheek in one hand, Bitty smiled softly, just looking at them on camera.

Looking back, something in Jeff’s face softened a little, and he turned to look at Kent.

“I miss you, too,” Kent said, and when Jeff reached out to run his thumb over Kent’s cheekbone, he closed his eyes for a moment. “Wish you were here.”

“Soon,” said Jeff. He glanced at Bitty on the screen, smiled softly.

“Soon,” Bitty agreed. Soon they wouldn’t have to rely on Skype at all.

( the whole fic is here on AO3 )

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bittysvalentines · 6 years ago

Text

I’ll Talk Bromance (if I can get it)

From: @leftwinglibrarian

To: @redneterp

Rating: Teen. Tags - Holsom, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Valentine's Day, canon-typical language

A message to your recipient - Happy Valentine's Day @redneterp! I loved getting your request, because it was almost exactly like the one I'd submitted! I felt like the world just needs more Holsom content, so that's what I went with. I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for giving me the chance to write something for this pairing I love so much!

“HOLSTER? ARE YOU WEARING A TIE OR ..” Ransom’s query is cut off by the sound of the doorbell. “Shit. CAN ONE OF YOU GUYS GET THAT?”

Apparently not, if the repeated ringing interspersed with door knocking is any indication. Ransom would grab it but he’s still standing there shirtless, which seems OK for the Haus but somehow not for Haus 2.0. Maybe this is the moment he achieves actual adulthood, he muses to himself as he grabs a dark red V-neck sweater from his drawer and pulls it on as he heads to the door.

“On my way, just one sec!” he calls out to the maniac who seems intent on knocking down their door.

He finally gets his sweater on, muttering under his breath about the uselessness of his roommates. Honestly, what is the point of living with four other people? Can’t one of them help out a guy who doesn’t want to answer the door half naked? Though to be fair, Shitty and Lardo aren’t home, because they are spending the holiday at a romantic B&B in Rockport. They both made a big deal about how they were staying “ironically” but Rans and Holster aren’t buying it. And their other roommate spends all of her time either out of the house or holed up in her room, so Rans hasn’t actually seen her in … well, it’s been a while. And Holster …

Holster is standing at the front door holding a bouquet of red roses and a giant heart-shaped box of chocolates.

“What the hell Holtzy?”

“And a Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well, Justin. May I come in?”

“Dude, you live here. What are you doing?”

“I am being a gentleman and picking up my date,” Holster says, brushing past him. “Are you ready?”

“Again, why are you picking me up? WE LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER.”

“Bro, can’t a bro do bromance right and pick up his Brolentine’s Day date in style?”

“Brolentine’s????”

“OK, I concede that ‘Galentine’s’ works better, but I feel like you are focusing too much on the details here and missing the spirit of this holiday. Are you ready for the most Bromantic evening of your life?”

“Sure Leslie Knope,” Ransom says with a smile, glancing down at his outfit. “If you think this is OK? Wasn’t sure how dressed up we needed to get.”

“Looks great, I’m about the same,” Holster says, gesturing down to his dark jeans and a navy blue half-zip sweater. “I’m gonna grab a vase for these while you get your shoes on.”

“Wait, are we doing gifts now? Hang on,” Ransom jogs back to his room. Holster may think he’s gone all out, but two can play at this game.

Which … it started out as a game, but it’s gotten a little intense, or at least it feels that way to Ransom. It had all started a few weeks ago when the group chat started talking about Valentine’s Day. That’s when Shitty had brought up their “ironic” V-Day plans, and Jack was being super cagey, so chances are he’s got something pretty epic planned. Ransom and Holster were the only ones without real plans, since he and March had finally called it quits a few months ago after trying the long-distance thing. Holster hasn’t really dated anyone more than casually for, well ... he’s always been more into hookups than relationships. But then so has Ransom, since the breakup, so who is he to talk?

The team had resorted to those chirps that have started to make Ransom blush a bit, about how the two of them are soulmates and will have an epic Palentine’s Day, etc. And of course they had to do it when Holster had just been on a “How I Met Your Mother” kick that lead to him posting at least 17 different “Challenge Accepted” memes. That combined with his always ardent love for Leslie Knope was enough to get Holster swearing that this was going to be the most epic Galentine’s Day - or, apparently, Brolentine’s - either of them had ever experienced.

Somehow the evening had morphed from beer, pizza and Mario Kart to actual PLANS, with Holster taking on dinner and Rans in charge of the activity. Of course Shitty’s encouragement to “fuck heteronormativity, two bros can celebrate their love” had only upped the ante, and now Holster was picking him up even though they still live together and bringing him gifts … At least Holster won’t win that one.

Ransom returns to the living room where Holster has managed to find something to serve as a vase and hands him a red gift bag, complete with heart-covered tissue paper.

“Rans, are these HIS AND HIS BOXER BRIEFS? ‘Swawesome. We are totes wearing these and doing some snuggling later.”

“Sure bro, of course,” Ransom says, ducking to tie his shoe and hide his blush. That was of course what he’d been planning when he ordered them, but hearing Holster say it, well. It’s just A LOT.

Honestly, ALL of Ransoms feelings about Holster have been a lot lately. He’s always thought his best friend was handsome and funny and talented and basically just the best person ever, but since things started going south with March, those feelings have somehow morphed into something more. He finds himself noticing how Holster’s singing in the shower sets the tone for his day, or how much he misses living in each other’s pockets now that they have separate bedrooms and work in different departments at the consulting firm. Or how perfect Holster’s arms and shoulders are and wondering what they’d feel like boxing him in against the bed as Holster looms over him. And that’s not how you are supposed to feel about your best bro. So Ransom will endure this night of flowers and chocolates and fake hand holding, and he’ll stay chill, and their friendship will be fine.

He stands up to find Holster holding the door.

“My lord, your chariot awaits.”

That earns an eye roll from Ransom as he heads to the door to grab the bag full of cold weather gear he’s packed for their activity, but he lets Holster hold the door and they pile into the car, headed out for the mystery dinner Holster has planned.

Turns out Holster did a pretty damn good job. He might end up winning this thing. Not that there is an actual winner or anything, but fondue was a boss choice. Anything that features the words “beer cheese” is going to be amazing. But served with a nice Chianti, because they are grownups and this is romantic. Still, turns out beer cheese is incredible on pretty much everything, from apples to shrimp to steak tips to the piece of baguette Holster is holding out to him across the table.

“Oh my God, Rans, you have to try this. This is my new favorite combination of carbs and cheese. It is the best thing in my life besides your smiling face.”

“Whoa, dramatic much, Holtz? Besides, you say that about pretty much every combination of carbs and cheese,” Ransom jokes, trying not to let Holster’s hyperbolic talk set his heart racing. He is your best friend, that’s IT.

“I really mean it this time. And if you don’t shut the fuck up and eat it right now and allow even one precious drop of this delicious perfection to escape I will never forgive you.”

They exchange a smile with their eyes as Ransom opens his mouth and allows Holster to feed him, because bromance. He starts to chew and can’t help but let out a moan. He’s already so full but he’s going to have to eat at least a full loaf of bread now because that was fucking delicious.

He opens his eyes to find Holster with a weird look on his face, one Ransom can’t quite interpret. It disappears instantly when Holster realizes Rans is back with him, and they continue on, scraping the bottom of the fondue pot to get every last bit of the melty cheese.

They move on to dessert, Ransom allowing Holster to feed him a brownie bite covered in chocolate and returning the favor with a bit of cheesecake. Ransom could sit here all night, eating delicious food and listening to Holster talk, using his hands to gesture wildly. Ransom probably shouldn’t find it so endearing, especially since he almost hit that waitress who was carrying a full fondue pot, but he lets himself enjoy the moment. The check has come and gone and their feet are casually touching under the table. Holster’s hair looks golden in the dim lighting of the restaurant. The Boston skyline twinkles in the background, and this truly is the best Valentine’s Day Ransom can remember spending.

He’s brought back to reality by a high-pitched squeal and someone yelling “Yes! Oh my god, Tom! Yes!” All heads in the restaurant turn to see the newly engaged couple kiss, earning cheers from the crowd. It’s enough to break the spell.

“So, you ready to head out?”

“Oh dude. I literally can’t imagine doing anything other than going home and lying around in front of the TV with my pants unbuttoned while I digest. Please tell me you aren’t making us go to one of those trampoline places or something.”

“Nope. You killed it at dinner, but now it’s my turn.”

They head to the car and bundle up, Ransom handing out hand warmers before shouldering the remaining items in the bag. He’s glad the restaurant isn’t too far away, since parking in Boston is hell on a good day, and tonight is sure to be even worse.

“Do I get to see what’s in the bag?” Holster asks as they head out to walk the few blocks. It’s cold, but not too bad, and clear — a perfect winter night.

“Nope, it would spoil the surprise,” Ransom says, pulling the bag a little tighter. “You’ll guess it soon, probably before we get there.”

He does start throwing out a few guesses as they near Boston Common (“Dude, is there some special V-Day Freedom Trail thing? Do you think I’m Jack Zimmermann?”), but it’s not until they can actually see the Frog Pond that Holster realizes what the night has in store.

“Skating? That is some next level bromance, taking it back to the place we first met. Can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”

And that … may have been exactly what Ransom was thinking, but it seems incredibly cheesy now that they’re here. He’s seriously having second thoughts about this plan. Plus the hordes of couples holding hands and the fairy lights strung through the trees are making this infinitely more romantic than any of the places they have skated. He and Holster have shared so many cellies, helmet kisses and bear hugs on the ice, but being surrounded by couples holding hands on a sheet of ice — which will always mean Holster, no matter where it might be — well, that might just be too much.

“It’s super cheesy, bro. I’m sorry. We can bail and go home and binge something, it’s fine. I just … I thought it would be funny if we came here ironically or whatever, you know?” Ransom can tell he’s not sounding convincing, especially to Holster, who knows him too well. But he’s looking around the pond instead of at Ransom, and doesn’t seem to mind the level of schmaltz surrounding them.

“Ironcially? Hell no. This is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. We are totally doing this. Did you bring our skates? Because I am not putting my foot in some stanky rental.”

Ransom’s feeling reassured enough to feign shock at the very idea of getting rentals, and they lace up and pay the fee before taking to the pond, doing lazy loops that remind Justin of the early days of their friendship, lazily passing pucks back and forth as they stayed after practice talking for hours, discovering all they had in common.

It must be weighing on Holster’s mind as well, because he speaks up voice low where he’s skating too close to Ransom, hedged in by all the other couples on the ice.

“Did you ever think we’d be here? That first day we met?”

“I mean, not exactly,” and something in the air is making Ransom’s breath come a little faster and convincing him to be more vulnerable than he thinks is actually a good idea. “But I figured out pretty early on that you were someone I wanted to be a part of my life for a long time.”

“I knew. That day,” Holster says, still quiet in a way he rarely gets that lets Ransom know these moments are to be treasured. “I just like, we met and I just KNEW that you were going to be important to me.”

Ransom realizes that they’ve slowed down and are leaning into one another, so close they are breathing each other’s air. Which, it’s not like that’s anything new for them, but this feels somehow different. The frosty air seems charged, thick between them. Ransom is just starting to question whether Holster might be feeling the same, when someone slams into him from behind, sending him crashing into Holster’s strong arms. It’s only due to Holster’s height and strength that they don’t go crashing down.

“WATCH OUT, ASSHOLE!” Holster yells over his shoulder, as he helps steady Ransom. “What a dick. Can you believe that guy? You OK?”

Luckily the shove was enough to shatter the moment, and Ransom has recovered his wits along with his balance.

“Bro, I’m good. Thanks though,” he gives Holster a soft punch on the arm, shouting after him. “YOU COULD DO BETTER MISS. I MEAN REALLY, YOU COULD DO SO MUCH BETTER.”

They start skating again, laughing together, best bros once again in a sea of lovers, when Holster’s face lights up.

“Dude, you are so buying me hot chocolate.”

“Are you even serious right now? Do you realize how much chocolate we just ate?”

“Feel the bromance in the air, Justin. That calls for some fucking hot chocolate and snuggling.”

So Ransom forks over the money for hot chocolate (least he could do, after Holster shelled out big time for dinner), and they sit down on a bench, sitting close and quiet the way they normally only do at home in front of the TV or after they’ve been drinking. That’s happening less and less these days, with separate bedrooms and no kegsters to get them schwasted and keep Ransom from climbing up to the top bunk.

The cocoa is too hot to drink, and the rink is getting even more crowded, so they pack up their skates and sip as they walk back to the car, the talk going in a million directions just like it always does, able to follow one another’s mental leaps in a way that wouldn’t make sense to most people. They get in the car and and head home, but instead of pulling in the back, Holster parks out on the street.

“Can I walk you to the door?” Holster asks, turning to look at Ransom.

“Holster. YOU. LIVE. HERE.”

“I know. But can’t a bro try to treat his bro right after an epic V-Day?”

“Sure,” Ransom sighs and thunks his head back on the rest as Holster gets out of the car. “Bros for life, right?”

Holster is still playing the game and comes around to open Ransom’s door which is next level, even for him. They walk up to the door in silence, Ransom struggling to control his emotions. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck this up. He tries to shake it off and find the joviality from earlier in the evening, which he can tell is a mistake as soon as he opens his mouth. But even as he’s telling himself to shut the fuck up, he hears the words coming out.

“So, does this mean I get a goodnight kiss?” he tries for a laugh but it sounds strangled, and Holster is being silent and Holster isn’t laughing, why isn’t he laughing?

Ransom realizes Holster has stopped walking and he turns back to find him looking absolutely shattered. Does Holster know? Did he take this too far?

“Rans, I … I can’t do this, OK?”

“Holster, what … what do you mean? I’m sorry, OK? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that shit. I just … it was a stupid thing to say, OK?” he moves to pull Holster into a hug, and for the first time Ransom can remember, Holster pulls away.

“I didn’t realize you knew. I’m sorry. I’ll drive up to Samwell and crash there for the night, and we can figure it out tomorrow.” Holster won’t look at him, and he starts to shuffle back to the car, and he just looks so small and miserable and Holster should never feel that way and it’s Ransom who made him look like that.

“Adam, no. It was my fault, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he calls after him, grabbing Holster’s arm and turning him around so they are face to face. “I just … I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” Holster is looking at him incredulously. “Dude, I’m … Justin. I’m in love with you.”

Ransom can’t help the gasp that escapes from his lips. He feels himself sway a bit, feels the panic rise. This is what he’s been wanting for so long, including Holster’s strong arms wrapping around him, but Holster is still talking to him, soothing, holding him close but rubbing his back to calm the panic attack he can tell Ransom is trying to fight off.

“I love you, but I just can’t do this again. After we made out that time sophomore year, I just … Rans, that almost killed me. I just can’t do it again. And you deserve better than a creepy roommate who is mooning over you, so I can move out. I still want to be your friend, but I understand if you don’t want that.”

Ransom is still trying to get himself under control, and words are a struggle.

“I … I want. I wanted tonight to be real.”

“Justin … please,” and he’s cold as Holster is pulling slightly away, looking at Ransom with the saddest eyes Ransom has ever seen. “Please don’t say that when you don’t mean it. It hurts too much.”

“No, Holster … Adam, I. I’ve wanted it for a while now. It’s part of why I broke it off with March. I just … I thought it was just me.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No. No, I wouldn’t. Holster, I would never …” Ransom still can’t think of the right words to fix this, to let Holster know how he feels, so he does the only thing he can think of and pulls him into a kiss.

Holster is tense at first, surprised, but as Ransom keeps kissing him, trying to express what panic isn’t letting him say, he feels Holster relax into it, his arms sliding up to hold Ransom and opening his mouth to let the kiss deepen. Ransom is unsure how long it lasts, could be seconds, also seems like years, and they pull apart breathless, foreheads resting together, gulping down the cold air.

“So,” Holster says, still a bit breathless as his arms slide down to take Ransom’s hands in his. “You’re telling me that we have basically been pining away for each other for MONTHS now?”

“Uh, I guess so,” Ransom can feel himself beaming, panic sliding away as he lets himself realize that this moment is actually happening. “Should have told you, we missed so much time.”

“Bro, we still have time,” Holster says, pulling their joined hands up to his mouth and cupping them to his face, turning to kiss Ransom’s palm. “What do you say we turn this into a real Valentine’s Day?”

“Dude, only if we put on our matching boxers.”

“We can put them on, I’m just not promising they’ll stay on,” Holster says, wagging his eyebrows as he unlocks the door and they tumble inside, kissing as they move down the hallway.

Ransom loves him so fucking much.

“Hey Holster? I love you, too.”

“Bro. ‘Swawesome. Me too, obvs. Now, the big question … your room, or mine?”

Ransom drags Holster after him, wondering if it’s too soon to make one room “theirs.”

#holsterransom #fanfiction #bittysvalentines #bv2019 #omgcp

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mysecretcheckpleasesideblog · 6 years ago

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Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Check Please! (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter, Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, it's majority nurseydex though just letting you know where i stand on other pairings Characters: Derek "Nursey" Nurse, William "Dex" Poindexter, Chris "Chowder" Chow, Larissa "Lardo" Duan, Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Adam "Holster" Birkholtz, Eric Bittle, Jack Zimmermann, Shitty Knight Additional Tags: Bodyswap, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, hockey things?, canon-typical alcohol use, canon-typical social issues, like racism homophobia mention etc. etc., feat. the mental gymnastics involved in falling for someone who's currently inhabiting your body, takes place first year for incredibly valid reasons i had when i started writing, that i can no longer remember, if i included every idea i had for dex nursey and chowder being besties this fic would be 80k Summary:

The thing is, he’s had study nights and tv marathons in Chowder’s room. He’s gotten stoned in Shitty’s, and Lardo’s, crashed on Jack’s floor after a kegster, gone to Bitty’s for advice, and checked Ransom and Holster’s for ghosts. If it were anyone else’s, Nursey would at least have some indicator of what was going on, because he’d be able to recognise the decorations, the layout.

But Derek Nurse wakes up in William Poindexter’s room and has no idea where the fuck he is.

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willdexpoindexter · 6 years ago

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Chapters: 9/9 Fandom: Check Please! (Webcomic) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter, Derek "Nursey" Nurse/OMC, William "Dex" Poindexter/OMC Characters: Derek "Nursey" Nurse, William "Dex" Poindexter, Chris "Chowder" Chow, Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Larissa "Lardo" Duan, Adam "Holster" Birkholtz, Caitlin Farmer, Alexei "Tater" Mashkov, Poindexter Family (Check Please!), Nurse Family (Check Please!), Original Male Character(s), Coach Hall, Coach Murray, Jack Zimmermann, Shitty Knight, Justin "Ransom" Oluransi Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Quidditch, Miscommunication, background holsom, background shardo, background zimbits, Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, POV Alternating, Gratuitous Weasley Jokes, muslim nursey, Catholic Dex, Everyone is British or Irish, Panic Attacks, Gay Panic, Coming Out Series: Part 1 of Hogwarts, Please! Summary:

Muggleborn Liam Poindexter has never quite fit in at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That's all about to change, though when he goes out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. There's only one problem, he gets put on a Beater pair with Derek Nurse, who seems to know how to push all of his buttons.

Derek Nurse is stoked to make his house Quidditch team with his two best friends, Chris and Liam. What could be better than chilling with his favorite people all the time?

#look what's finally done posting!#bludger please #a prequel next week #or sometime #idk when #nurseydex #nursey #dex #hogwarts au #harry potter au #slow burn #fic rec #au

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weekendwritingmarathon · 6 years ago

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This weekly roundup includes fics written (at least in part) during the 1k1h sprints and/or the Weekend Writing Marathon events.

Fics are ordered first by fandom, then by word count from smallest to largest.

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pie-rates require ransom for their captives by @tryslora

Check Please || Ransom/Holster || General || No major warnings apply || 748 words

Summary: “Ah, here be my band of pirates!” Holster calls out. “Dex the Red! Chowder the Cheerful! And Bitty the Small! Gather round, gather round, for we have captured the fairest of the fair, the Lord Ransom!”

Other tags: Puns, Coming Out, Outside POV

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The Amatus and the Altus by @dafan7711

Dragon Age || Dorian Pavus x Inquisitor Trevelyan (Pavelyan), Scout Lace Harding x Non-Inquisitor Trevelyan || Mature || Author chooses not to give major warnings || 153,630 words

Summary: When Karl Trevelyan falls from the Fade, his unconscious brother Leo cradled in his arms, he can’t remember why his hand is marked with green magic. Karl is thrown into the Chantry dungeon, accused of murdering the Divine and tearing a demon-spewing Breach in the sky. In their fight to save the world from the Breach, the Trevelyan brothers face many powerful enemies, and gain the friendship of the Inquisition’s lead scout and a Tevinter Altus. Can the future Bann of Ostwick live happily ever after with a dwarf commoner at his side? Can the Inquisitor find love with a mage whose ties to the Magisterium turn out to be not as dead as they thought?

Other tags: Pavelyan, harding x oc, child abuse survivor, brothers

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The Confectionary Job by @tryslora

Nailed It!/Leverage || Gen (background Eliot/Hardison/Parker) || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 6,591 words

Summary: When Wes's older brother comes asking for a teeny, tiny favor, Wes knows that it's not going to be a small thing. It never is with Eliot.

Other tags: Crossover, Family

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holiday mash-up by @froggydarren

Queer Eye (RPF) || n/a || General || No major warnings apply || 1,525 words

Summary: They're not doing what they normally do. It's the twist in the episode -- like having it holiday themed is not enough -- to have each of them take of the others' role. Karamo can't help but wonder if this was a good idea. But at least it's fun.

Other tags: Episode Fic, Yuletide 2018, Fluff, Santa Claus

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Come and Save Me Tonight by @braezenkitty

Supernatural || Dean/Cas || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 981 words

Summary: "Baby, you're my angel Come and save me tonight" Dean is a superhero who needs saving. Good thing his Angel is close by. Now if only Dean could figure out why he seems so familiar...

Other tags: Alternate Universe - Superheroes, Superhero Castiel, Superhero Dean, Superhero Sam, First Kiss, Secret Identity

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the correct number of beds by @tryslora

Supernatural || Dean/Castiel || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 1,310 words

Summary: It's been fourteen hours in the Impala, with another sixteen to go tomorrow. All they need to do is sleep for the night. But every hotel and motel in the area is filled with a beauty pageant, leaving Dean and Castiel with one room and one large bed.

Other tags: Road Trip, Bed Sharing

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the one with the toys by @tryslora

Supernatural/Teen Wolf || Derek/Stiles/Jackson, Dean/Castiel || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 2,281 words

Summary: Stiles is a Ken doll, Derek is a teddy bear, and Jackson is a plastic dragon. Dean and Castiel are hunting a possessed toy. What could go wrong?

Other tags: Crack, Crossover, Established Relationships

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all things new by @froggydarren

Teen Wolf || Derek/Stiles || General || No major warnings apply || 755 words

Summary: It’s a new year, a new start, a new house, a new everything. The fireworks light up the sky and Derek’s watching them alone, from the porch of his house, when he hears the familiar rumbling of an engine on the road through the woods.

Other tags: Future Ficlet, Post-Canon, Getting Together, New Year's Eve

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under the fairy lights by @froggydarren

Teen Wolf || Derek/Stiles || General || No major warnings apply || 1,588 words

Summary: Derek still can't really believe that he gets to spend his life with Stiles. That he gets to wear the mating mark on his hand. That they got to adopt two kids together and are raising them as their own. For all the pain that memories of winter holidays sometimes bring, this year, he's excited for the celebrations.

Other tags: Parenthood, Adopted Children, Mating Bond, Blanket Forts

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out of almost 300 boys, of course Derek Hale is The One by @tryslora

Teen Wolf || Derek/Stiles || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 2,813 words

Summary: In which Paige learns of her cousin’s crush on her ex, says “just trust me,” and God help him, Stiles does.

Other tags: AU (High School), First Kiss, Ice Skating, Background Relationships, Paige is Stiles's cousin

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it doesn’t have to be a snowman by @froggydarren

Teen Wolf || Derek/Styles || General || No major warnings apply || 4,900 words

Summary: The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious. And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

Other tags: Holiday Fic, Snowmen, Fluff, Hot Chocolate

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needy cat by @tryslora

Welcome to PHU || Ángel/Tony || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 710 words

Summary: Tony's a cat, and there are times when cats just need love. While Ángel is in the middle of doing an oil change on a truck is really not the best timing.

Other tags: Full-Shift Shapeshifter, Cats

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it’s okay to pause by @tryslora

Welcome to PHU || Gen (Mac & Pawel friendship) || Teen & up || No major warnings apply || 1,678 words

Summary: “You’re mothering me.” It’s petty and whiny and Pawel says it anyway, because damn it, he has this under control. He knows what he’s doing. “Maybe you need it,” Mac shoots back.

Other tags: Missing Scene, Canon Compliant, Friendship

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Not Your Love Song: Chapter 35 by @tryslora

Welcome to PHU || Rory/Kit || Teen & up || Author chooses not to give major warnings || 2,549 / 102,953 words

Summary: Early morning is always an awkward time for deep conversations, and yet, they happen anyway.

Other tags: Sleeping Together, Transgender Character, Asexual Character

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Missed Fortunes: Family & Friends 5 by @tryslora

Welcome to PHU || Carolyn/Serina || Teen & up || Author chooses not to give major warnings || 3,277 / 122,108 words

Summary: Carolyn wants Serina to see her. Really see her. Which means trying to properly explain something that no one else has quite understood before (including Carolyn herself).

Other tags: Demisexuality

***

Have you posted a fic written at least partially during a WWM event? Submit your fic here by midnight EST Monday and it will be included on next Wednesday’s WWM Fic Roundup post.

#wwm fic roundup #check please #dragon age #nailed it!#leverage #queer eye #supernatural #teen wolf #welcome to phu #fanfic

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ao3feed-nurseydex · 6 years ago

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Bludger, Please!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2EAwqy3

by kirani

Derek Nurse is stoked to make his house Quidditch team with his two best friends, Chris and Liam. What could be better than chilling with his favorite people all the time?

Updates on Sundays

Words: 6595, Chapters: 1/9, Language: English

Fandoms: Check Please! (Webcomic)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Derek "Nursey" Nurse, William "Dex" Poindexter, Chris "Chowder" Chow, Eric "Bitty" Bittle, Larissa "Lardo" Duan, Adam "Holster" Birkholtz, Caitlin Farmer, Alexei "Tater" Mashkov, Poindexter Family (Check Please!), Nurse Family (Check Please!), Original Male Character(s), Coach Hall, Coach Murray, Jack Zimmermann, Shitty Knight, Justin "Ransom" Oluransi

Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Quidditch, Miscommunication, background holsom, background shardo, background zimbits, Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, POV Alternating, Gratuitous Weasley Jokes

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2EAwqy3

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #nurseydex #nursey x dex #dex x nursey

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 years ago

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Take It On The Run (Part 3)

Summary: Dean and the reader realize what Emily’s up to but it might be too late...

Masterlist

Pairing: Detective!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, violence

A/N: Ah, I’m sure nothing will go wrong...

Dean was fast asleep on his bed after lunch and a quick rundown of how to use his weapon. The point and shoot part was pretty self explanatory but he showed you where the safety was, how to reload and most important, how to hold the damn thing so you didn’t cut your own skin like he did back at the academy on his first day. It was a bit silly to hear him say how nervous he was back then. He dropped his fake gun about fifty times, he’d cuffed himself by accident and he managed to get on the wrong side of the strictest instructor within two minutes of getting there. He was ranked the bottom of his class during his first week, told he’d never be a cop and he should quit and save them all the hassle.

He graduated as valedictorian six months later.

That was as far as you got before Dean hit the sack, his light snores giving the too quiet room some noise.

He was restless though, waking up after only two hours to use the bathroom. You thought he might lay back down but he simply took a seat next to you on your bed and leaned back against the headboard.

“Please tell me you got that TV to show more than just the home shopping network,” said Dean. “I can only watch this torture for so long.”

“Would you like me to lie,” you joked, Dean groaning as he slumped down. “So this robbery Emily and Derek committed...what’d they steal?”

“A crap ton of money,” said Dean. You raised your eyebrows, Dean shaking his head. “But not cash. Well...you know how they have those Swiss bank accounts or whatever that people hide their money in? She and Derek hit up a bank here in the states and dumped everything from every account they had there into their very own Swiss account. It was millions. Enough to last a few lifetimes over and then some. I’m surprised they’re still in the country honestly.”

“How the hell did they do that?” you asked.

“Your evil twin and this Derek guy are smart. Extremely smart. They didn’t rob the bank all heist style like you would think. They went to the bank manager’s house. No fancy alarms apart from the one for the house one they deactivated. The guy’s family was there. He gave them the access they wanted in under two minutes apparently. Emily was very convincing from the report I read,” said Dean.

“I really don’t like this chick,” you said. “She just steals and threatens people for fun?”

“Your dad...he never mentioned her at all? You never got a weird vibe or anything that he was keeping something from you?” asked Dean.

“Dad...he said mom died giving birth to me. If that was a lie then, alright. I have to live with it. He never...it wasn’t like he spoke bad about her but I’m not sure that he actually loved her, not the way you would expect two people who had a child together would be. He’d answer questions when I asked, show me pictures every once in a while but I don’t think he was trying to hurt me, just keep me from the truth,” you said.

“Maybe they knew you had a demon spawn for a sister and wanted to keep her away from you,” joked Dean, frowning when you turned away. “Sorry, that’s not funny.”

“She killed our parents,” you said, Dean keeping quiet. “I mean, odds are she did. Even if she didn’t, she tried to kill us and Sam.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Promise,” said Dean, squeezing your hand, pulling it away quickly to rest on his thigh. “Where do you think Derek is? We haven’t seen him around yet.”

“He probably does exactly what she tells him and thinks it’s love,” you said.

“Emily didn’t get her shot at us last night like she wanted. She probably figured she could handle it on her own. My guess is she called in Derek for backup to help find us,” said Dean. “We have to be extra careful.”

“Derek’s rap sheet, what was the worst thing he did?” you asked, Dean scratching his head.

“Small stuff until about a year ago. It used to be breaking and entering, minor theft, stuff like that. He upped the game the past year with a few assaults with a deadly weapon, armed robberies, ransom...” said Dean, eyes wide. “Ransom. He pulled a few ransom jobs.”

“What’s-”

“I know how Emily is going to get us to come out,” said Dean, reaching for his phone, dialing Sam. “Call Jack.”

You dialed but only got a whole lot of ringing before his voicemail kicked in, Dean hopping off the bed and pacing around the room.

“Ransom,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “Sam and Jack. You think they’re going to trade Sam and Jack for us.”

“Odds are they’ll probably kill them too,” said Dean, shaking his head.

“Why haven’t we gotten a call yet then?” you asked. Dean glanced at the window, late afternoon from the lack of light shining through and then the clock.

“They must be waiting for night. She wants to use her fancy sniper rifle again I bet,” said Dean. He grabbed his coat and pulled off his sling, reaching out a hand for you. “We have to let the chief know.”

“No,” you said, brushing past him towards his computer. Dean caught your arm but you shoved him off, opening the login to his police login. “I want to look at Derek Evans record first.”

“Y/N, we don’t have time to mess around,” said Dean, clicking off the TV and putting his gun in it’s holster. “We’re going now.”

“You had a bad feeling last night and I ignored it and look what happened. Well I have one of those now. Sam is a good cop and Jack’s new but so is he. No way Derek gets the jump on them both without some help,” you said.

“Y/N,” said Dean.

“Trust me. Please,” you asked. Dean stared at the door a moment, groaning before he walked over and typed in his password.

“You tell anyone I let you go poking around in a police database, I am so fired,” he said, pushing the computer back to you.

“I’m pretty sure you’re a softie when it comes to me, Dean,” you said with a smile, searching for the chief, finding him a few names down. His record was clean like you expected, Dean reading over your shoulder.

“The chief? What’s...” said Dean, watching as you scoured through page after page. “Wait. Go back. Yeah there. Look. He received marks for not showing up for his shift three days in a row back in the day.”

“Have you never played hooky at work before?” you asked, Dean rolling his eyes.

“Yeah but I call in sick like everybody else. He didn’t though which meant he was busy enough with something to not call. Cops don’t do that. We just don’t,” said Dean.

“I still don’t understand,” you said.

“Derek is 31, right? Take the 31, tack on nine months, tack on a few more since his birthday was a few months back and I’m guessing Derek became a bun in the oven right around those three days the chief went missing. Timing adds up. Not to mention the chief seeming to have it out for you,” said Dean.

“If that’s true, then why haven’t Emily and Derek burst through that door already? Wouldn’t they know where we are?” you asked.

“They’d know someone at the station leaked if they did. We don’t have anything but a guess anyways. A far fetched guess at that. The guy could have just gone on a bender for three days for all we know,” said Dean.

Your phone suddenly rang, Jack calling back. Dean tapped the speakerphone, waving for you to speak.

“Jack?” you asked.

“Hey, you called? Everything alright?” asked Jack, Dean’s face scrunching up. “We’ve been in a meeting. We found Derek. He’s holed up on-”

“Hey, rookie,” you heard Mike say in the background. “Let the chick talk. Something might be up.”

“Where’s Sam?” you asked.

“The bathroom. Are you okay, Y/N? Is something wrong?” asked Jack.

“No kid, we’re fine. We thought...maybe Sam might be a target and you since you’re Sam’s partner,” said Dean, rolling his eyes.

“Everyone is accounted for. The Rhoverville force got here not long ago. The chief is trying to divy up search quadrants for Emily since Derek is...sort of holding someone hostage. But we got that covered so you guys hang tight and I’m sure we’ll find Emily soon,” said Jack. “You guys need anything?”

“No, we’re just awesome. Keep safe,” said Dean, hanging up. “So they’re fine. How’d we get that so wrong? Isn’t going after Sam an obvious move?”

“Son of a bitch. Dean, we need to leave, now,” you said, grabbing his computer and shoving it in his backpack, slinging your own on and heading for the door.

“Y/N, slow down. What-”

“Us calling to check if they were okay was the obvious move,” you said, Dean pulling out his weapon and grabbing his bag. “She must know we’re close by and was waiting for us to call so she could get a fix.”

“Dammit. Come on, we need to move fast,” said Dean, his backpack on as you rushed outside, a shot ringing out just barely missing Dean’s head. You tackled him to the ground behind a truck, a hiss of air from tires all around you going off. “She’s shooting the tires. We can’t drive out of here.”

“Elk Forest,” you said, glancing over to the edge of the motel parking lot and the thick trees right beside it. “We’re on the outskirts of the county. We have a shot in the forest, right?”

“Take this,” said Dean, shoving his gun in your hands, pulling out another one from the back of his pants. “Keep your head down and sprint for that tree line. Don’t shoot me. Understand?”

“I got it,” you said. Dean grabbed hold of your hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“On three. One...two...three!” he said, Dean and you doing your best to use the cars as cover, more shots overhead until you were sprinting across the small bit of open parking space. You felt Dean stumble, his arm raised as he shot back. You pulled him along with you until you were well into the forest, slipping down a hill and catching your breath behind a tree.

“We just have to hike back to town and...” you said, Dean grunting beside you. His shirt was stained red, splatters of blood on his face and neck, your own body covered with some of it.

“It’s just a shoulder hit,” he said, taking a deep breath. “We have to keep moving.”

“You’re bleeding. A lot,” you said, Dean cursing under his breath. “Dean, that’s a lot of blood.”

“First aid kit. Needle. Thread. Clean your fingers and dig out the bullet. Stitch it up and then we go. You got two minutes before we start moving again,” he said, dropping his bag. He pulled out a flannel shirt and wadded it up, shoving it in his mouth as you flung open the first aid kit.

“Dean,” you said, Dean nodding his head. “What if you pass out?”

“Leave me then and get out of here,” he said, quickly shoving the shirt back in. He tossed aside his jacket and unbuttoned his dress shirt, letting it fall off his torso by the time you were ready to go.

“Sorry,” you said, carefully shoving two fingers into the wound. Dean’s eyes went wide and squeezed shut, his hand shooting to your wrist, barely stopping himself from forcing it away. “S’okay. Just a little...I can feel it. I got it, just one more second...” you said, pulling it out, Dean shouting into his shirt.

You quickly stitched his wound together, Dean squirming just as much at that before you slapped a bandage over top.

“We live, you want to go on a date?” he asked, fumbling to get the flannel he’d bit down on unrolled and on with your help. “If any woman can handle me, it’s definitely gonna be you.”

“Who said you can handle me?” you shot back, Dean scoffing as you buttoned him up, helping him with his bag.

“I just took a bullet for you sweetheart,” he said. “Doesn’t that count for something?”

“We live, you can have as many dates as you want,” you said, grabbing Dean’s hand when he stumbled forward. “Don’t pass out on me. We have a psychopath on our tail and I am so not carrying your ass all that way.”

“Oh, you’re so meant for me.”

After an hour, Dean looked less pale and had changed out of his slacks and shoes into jeans and boots during a brief break.. He’d stopped bleeding too which was certainly good for leaving less of a trail but it was starting to get dark and you knew you’d be sitting ducks once the sun went down.

“How far until we hit town?” asked Dean. “Another few miles?”

“Probably. Less than that I’m guessing,” you said. Dean stopped to lean against a tree, staring at your feet.

“How bad do those hurt?” he asked.

“I can run,” you said. “The pain’s pretty much gone at this point.”

“Good. Take off your pack, keep the gun and book it for town,” he said, sliding off his own bag, cocking his gun.

“Dean,” you said, earning a sad smile.

“We’re both hurt and slow. She’s got the advantage. I’ll hold her off, try to bring her in while you get back safe,” said Dean.

“I’m not leaving you out here to-”

“Y/N. You’re tough. You’re a badass and I respect that. It’s still my job to protect you. Odds are she wants you dead more than me so you’re the one that has to get away. This isn’t up for debate,” he said. He was nervous, for you or himself or the both of you, you couldn’t be positive. But his eyes were hard, glancing away. “Go while you have the light.”

“You owe me a date, Winchester. You better not wind up dead,” you said. Dean chuckled, sliding down the tree to his backpack, tossing a flashlight over to you.

“I’ll do my best to stay alive then. Don’t use that unless you have to,” he said. You helped him back to his feet, Dean taking a deep breath. “In case I do though...”

He cupped your cheek, a dirty hand grazing the skin, your nose smashed against his while he touched his lips to yours. He barely moved them, just let them rest for a moment before moving back.

“Tell Sam I’m sorry about his bike in third grade if I don’t make it back,” said Dean.

“Tell him yourself,” you said.

“You got to go. I’ll see you soon,” he said, kissing the top of your head, pushing on your shoulder to get you going. You only looked back once, Dean counting the bullets he had left, slamming the clip back in his gun.

You were a quarter of a mile away when you heard the shooting start.

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

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