#and ransom+holster and Ollie+wicks thoughts as WELL

[builtlikeastickofcelery]

kind of a blegh Casey sketch I like her expression but her pose is all weird anyways I still need to do the comics!! Agh but im constantly plagued with oc thoughts however I haven’t even named him lol I’ll show him off later

[hockey-prose]

smh game night

my brain wouldn’t leave me alone until i put these thoughts down in a post but it’s 4 am and will probably be incoherent. anyway. (woke up this morning to finish this up, tired as hell but i’ll be thinking of this at work today, i just know it.) also i’m tagging @absolutepie because i feel like you’d think of more funny scenarios and as mutuals, i have to respect your craft lmao

so the smh gang are all spread out on the east coast. none of them are very far from one another, but sometimes on the weeks where bitty’s had a lot of trouble with the cook book and the publishing company and ugh!! and jack has been having a rough week with the falcs (not his teammates but sometimes his self doubt gets the better of him. his therapist says healing isn’t a straight line and he feels marginally better) shitty has law school by the throat but when the weekend comes, maybe he just wants to relax on the couch with lardo and her big ass electric sketch machine (he should really learn the name of it so he can buy her a new compatible pen for christmas)

LONG STORY SHORT: they try to have game nights every weekend either at jack and bitty’s or at haus 2.0 with the frogs, the taddies, and even the waffles get an invitation, though they’re still a little occupied with school. ollie and wicks (love them) can rarely make it but always dominate the night. but sometimes work and personal life gets in the way and not everyone wants to put in the effort to travel a couple hours for a game night. it’s reasonable!

so, the smh gang proposes online game nights. they start on skype, which is a disaster.

(“jesus fuckin christ jack, i thought you had the fastest internet known to man and yet bitty is still a minute behind on everything.”

“it’s not my fault, shits. i’m not god of the wifi router.”

“well, you should be.”)

then they migrate to discord for a little bit, but it’s not user friendly for everyone. nobody talks about the summer of 2019 when jack cursed up a storm trying to get the microphone out of push-to-talk mode when it wasn’t even in push-to-talk.

and so it’s not long before everyone is locked inside and forced to use zoom for everything anyway. but it’s better than skype for connection reasons, and easier than discord for technology reasons, so it’s good.

so the game changes every week. sometimes it’s a huge game of uno online that doesn’t make much sense. other times it’s a tense battle of go fish on one of those sketchy websites where you don’t really trust it but when there’s nothing else!

honestly they could just get a couple games for the gaming consoles they have, but then everyone would have to shill out the money for said consoles if they don’t have them and it’s not worth the time. everyone has a computer or at the very least, a laptop that can run both zoom and go fish at the same time.

but one week, it’s bitty’s turn to pick the game they play. and he has a good idea. so good, he doesn’t even reveal what it is until the night of when everyone is eagerly waiting. when bitty shares his screen and starts playing the ‘shark tank’ music, everyone gets hyped. (tv show where small businesses and/or potential businesses pitch their product in front of a panel of judges to see if they want to invest in the product.)

bitty distributes a starter of $10,000 to four people in the call and tells them that they’re the investors (the sharks). shitty, jack, nursey, and holster are the sharks. people lose their shit when bitty asks for certain members of the crew to give their pitches. lardo, chowder, whiskey, and ransom are the people giving pitches.

lardo obviously wins the first round, and then a second one starts up, with a sweeping victory from whiskey. everyone is clambering for a chance to be both a shark and a pitcher, but by then, it’s the end of the set hours for game night and everyone has to sign off. but bitty says that the next time his week to choose the game, he’ll do this again with different people as the sharks and pitchers.

soon there’s a tally in the haus 4.0 group chat about who has the most wins. lardo is first, with dex behind her, ford in third place, then ransom and holster tied for fourth. if ollie and wicks showed up more, they’d be higher on the list. jack is near the bottom, while bitty is directly in the middle.

the people who win the week before get to be the sharks. they decide the winner on who has the most approval from the sharks. there are four sharks, so it’s majority. if only two sharks invest, it depends on what other people have been given. the money that’s decided on is given to the people immediately as a rolling fund so that they can participate next game night.

lardo has been a shark almost the entire time, but she greatly enjoys critiquing nursery’s work in particular because he has such fantastical ideas with no way to execute them. dex always goes to simple. chowder is a good player and he’s been a shark a couple times, but he really, honestly, enjoys pitching a lot. bitty likes being a shark, but he invests in everyone so his money is always so low. jack invests in no one besides bitty and sometimes shitty. ransom and holster invest in each other’s things. shitty has been a shark maybe twice because his products are batshit crazy. (love you shitty)

shitty likes to think he’s a good persuader outside of being a lawyer but it never works out in his favor. dex, chowder, ransom, and lardo are the best pitchers for their products. bitty is a close one, but sometimes his products are more just what he dreams up that he needs to assist him in the kitchen. nursey, holster, and shitty go for the humor route.

because they’re all friends, they can rag on each other’s products and ideas so much without getting any feelings hurt. i’m thinking the smh gang works much like the jenna julien podcast when they play this game where if it’s shitty pitching to lardo, she’ll automatically say she’s out before he can even finish because his product is either a pun or just bad. the zoom is overrun with yelling and arguing, but at the end of the night, everyone says they had a lot of fun.

i have no conclusion to this. but i think i got all my thoughts out. if i have more, i’ll reblog this and add on but for now, thank you for your time lmao.

[zimms]

(yet another ollie/wicks ficlet, but this one got slightly out of hand, clocking in at 1.3k for absolutely no reason, so there’s a line break. this is set during the november of bitty’s sophomore year.)

don’t treat him like a mind reader

It’s mid-November when Ollie and Wicky first notice.

They’re on their weekly coffee date at Annie’s, trading sips of each other’s drinks and proof-reading the other’s most recent paper, when Jack Zimmermann walks through the door. Ollie knows that he should probably be on a first name basis with Jack Zimmermann at this point, considering the fact that he’s their team captain and they’ve been attending the same weekly bonding sessions at the Haus since the beginning of freshman year. 

(However, it’s Jack Zimmermann, and Ollie doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the fact that he knows this guy in real life and that he’s met Bad Bob and he’s playing on the same team as someone that will be a shoe-in for next year’s Calder winner no matter which team he signs for and Ollie is an obnoxious fanboy, and this is why he largely steers clear of Jack Zimmermann, lest he embarrasses himself.)

Anyway, it’s a surprise that Jack Zimmermann is in Annie’s for 2 reasons.

Everyone knows that Jack hates paying money for coffee, when he just drinks it black (because he has no taste) and we have coffee at the Haus, why would I buy some extortionate cup of overly sweet sludge?

He’s just had his history class with Bitty, and everyone knows that Jack immediately goes back to the Haus to make his notes from lectures, because Jack Zimmermann works harder than God.

(Okay, so maybe not everyone knows these things, but Ollie absolutely does because these are crucial details in his plan to avoid Jack Zimmermann at all times.

Well maybe the coffee thing isn’t part of that plan; it’s more the fact that Jack complains loudly about it at Team Breakfast, despite the fact that he is a millionaire with more money than Ollie will ever see and can definitely afford an extortionate cup of overly sweet sludge.)

Ollie flicks Wicky’s forehead where he’s leaning over his most recent Econ essay. “Dude, what’s Jack doing here? Shouldn’t he be back at the Haus, making his obscenely perfect notes?” His eyes tracked Jack’s movements as he ordered two coffees and made his way to a table. “Hold on, is Hockey Robot Jack Zimmermann on a date?”

Wicky frowns at Ollie’s fingers as they come away from his forehead, and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes flick up to Jack’s table. “Nah, he’s probably waiting for Bitty; he’s tutoring him in French this semester.”

As if on cue, Bitty walks through the door, evidently having been challenged by Jack to a run across campus and evidently having lost, despite being the fastest guy on the team. Ollie watches as he grins at Jack and makes his way to the table, not looking at the barista once. 

“Huh,” he mutters, “you were right.”

Wicky’s head snaps up, affronted. “Why do you sound so surprised? I literally saw them here last Tuesday.”

“Why didn’t I know this then? I’m always here with you.”

Wicky rolls his eyes. “Dude, you were at that meeting with your Bio professor; the reason I was here is because I was literally waiting for you. They’d just left by the time you were done discussing carbohydrates or mitochondria or whatever it is you do in Bio.” Ollie grins at him; STEM professors always rub Wicky up the wrong way; it’s a side effect of being forced to go to a science specialist high school when you have no interest in STEM. “Anyway, I’m still trying to work out if they’re doing tutoring or tutoring.”

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Wicky gestures not-so-discreetly at where Bitty and Jack are laughing over their French flashcards. “Look at Bitty; are you seriously telling me that he’s not in love with Jack?”

“No!” Ollie holds up his hands. “You know that I would never deny the fact that the straight boy that Bitty is pining for is Jack, but do you really think that Jack Zimmermann, Hockey Robot isn’t straight?” Ollie watches the aforementioned Hockey Robot grin down at Bitty, eyes softer than Ollie’s ever seen them. “Actually, you know what, Jack Zimmermann isn’t straight. He looks like a fucking movie star out of the 1950s with the way he’s trying to flirt with Bitty over there.”

Wicky stares at him. “That sentence was incomprehensible, but I think I get what you mean.” 

The two of them turn to face Jack and Bitty, as their hands brush together as they each reach for another flashcard. Ollie gapes openly at how Jack Zimmermann’s face flushes red at the contact. “Fuck it, I’m just gonna ask Bitty when we’re at the Haus tonight.”

o0O0o

The rhythm of Beyoncé throbs through the hallway of the Haus and his feet as Ollie knocks on the door of the kitchen. Bitty’s voice struggles to reach over the music as he shouts “Come in!”

Ollie opens the door tentatively and the music goes silent. “Hey, Bitty. I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Of course, honey!” Bitty whirls around from where he was faffing next to the oven. “What do you-? What on God’s green Earth are you wearing?” 

Ollie glances down at the orange and white striped outfit that Shitty’s making him wear for his dibs, including fins and a tail. “I honestly don’t know. I think it might have once been a tangential joke that Holster made about Ransom being a coral reef that eventually spiralled into this hell. Wicky’s dressed as Dory if it’s any consolation.”

Bitty removes his oven gloves and places them lovingly on the stove. “It is absolutely no consolation whatsoever, but it is quite entertaining.” His eyes roam up and down Ollie’s body (a move that Ollie would have thought was flirtatious if Bitty hadn’t been quite so in love with Jack Zimmermann) and he giggles in that way that only Bitty can. “Anyway, what did you need?”

A slice of pie appears in front of Ollie on a plate. He doesn’t question it; he’s learnt not to question how baked goods suddenly materialise around Bitty.

“Oh, yeah.” Ollie takes a mouthful of pie. “Me and Wicky were wondering if Jack was like tutoring you in French, like how Wicky tutors me in Philosophy?”

(Ollie and Wicky have long since established that they don’t want to be out to the whole team, so they came up with a code word for date night that they can use with the people that know about their relationship, which is basically just Shitty and Bitty, but whatever.)

Bitty nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, exactly like that!” He takes a bite of his own pie. “He’s such a great tutor; he’s so good at French!”

Ah, that clears that up then.

Ollie grins at Bitty. “You know, if you ever want to discuss tutoring, I’m always willing to listen, and I know Wicky is too.” He stands up, wipes his mouth, and claps Bitty on the back. “Good talk.”

“Oh, was that all you wanted to know?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to get back to reenacting scenes from Finding Nemo. Just keep swimming.”

o0O0o

“Yeah, they’re dating.”

“Oh, thank God, for a second I thought that they were just that oblivious.”

(A year later they get a text from Bitty announcing that he and Jack were dating. 

oily: thanks for letting us know officially bro! we were happy to keep it on the dl til u were ready to come out!

candle: thanks in return for keeping our relationship a secret! we knew that you could keep it a secret!

itsy bitsy baker: how did you guys know about us?? i never told you we were dating??

oily: yh, u did??

itsy bitsy baker: 

we didn’t get together until the summer after sophmore year??

also, did you guys say you were dating?!?

candle: yeah, we told you at the end of freshman year, bro. you literally caught us making out in your room??

itsy bitsy baker: i-?? what???)

part 1 part 2 part 3

[backwardscapsmh]

as always, i was in my whiskeytango feels and decided to write something! they live in my mind rent free so enjoy! as always, comments and constructive criticism are appreciated! 🥰

oh, just to be near you // don't you know how good that feels? // these are all the things i should've said // did i miss my chance? is it too late to say?

- million words by the vamps

It’s quiet when Whiskey walks into the Haus after his last class of the day. And anyone who is familiar with the Samwell men’s hockey team knows that this is cause for concern. It may be quieter now that Ransom and Holster are gone, but it’s almost never this quiet. It’s eerie, and Whiskey doesn’t like it.

Last year, Bitty would be stress-baking in the kitchen, either muttering French flash cards or singing Beyoncé songs. Ollie and Wicks would be playing Super Smash Bros on the couch in the den, chirping and jostling each other. (Whiskey still thinks they’re together but no one besides Ford believed him when he brought it up). Dex usually stomped around, occasionally tinkering with machines around the Haus and affectionately arguing with Nursey. Chowder will aggressively watch Sharks games, sometimes angrily yelling at Devyn Dubnyk for his seeming inability to guard a goal.

But Bitty’s not here anymore, and neither are Ollie and Wicks. As far as Whiskey can tell, Dex and Nursey aren’t here at the moment (probably on a date that they don’t want the team to know that they’re on). Chowder’s absent as well, most likely in his senior programming class he despises.

The one voice he should hear but doesn’t is Tango’s. Tango’s almost always talking. He’ll ask about Dex’s tinkering and his occasional pie baking. He’ll talk to Chowder about the Sharks and how they’re doing during the season, occasionally asking about players. He’ll play video games with Hops. He’ll ask Bully about his motorcycle and his drawings. He’ll talk to anyone about anything, asking questions, pushing for explanations, and smiling when they get excited about the topic.

It’s strange to not hear him talk, not hear the cadence of Tango’s New Jersey tenor. The Haus doesn’t seem like the Haus without it. He should be here, he doesn’t have class and after Ollie and Wicks gave him their dibs (he’s one of the only ones able to tell them apart), he should be here. Worried, he shoots a quick text to Ford.

Me: Hey, where’s Tango? He’s not here.

Ford: he should be there resting

Ford: lost his voice, so he can’t talk

Ford: dex said that he’s making some soup when he gets home but maybe check in :)

Me: Okay, thanks.

Ford: no problem! see u soon

Well, that answers his question.

Not wanting to disturb Tango’s nap, he settles on the green couch that Bitty got cleaned as a graduation present from his parents. It’s not so disgusting now and Whiskey appreciates that he can type out his essay without worrying if that sticky stain on the cushion is just soda or some other concerning substance. It finally looks like you won’t get an STD after sitting on it for more than five minutes.

But for the newly clean environment, Whiskey can’t seem to get comfortable. He keeps feeling like something’s not right. There’s this feeling that won’t leave him alone: something, or someone, is missing.

And that’s when he realizes, he misses Tango. There’s no warm presence next to him. There’s no 6 feet of New Jersey native pressed up against the back of the couch, the arm of the chair, or the front of the couch, leaning against Whiskey’s knees. It’s quiet, and cold. It’s awful. He didn’t realize Tango took up this much space in his life.

Fuck.

In an attempt to distract himself, he wanders into the kitchen. He’s trying to ignore the newly realized feelings about his best friend, but in his mindless state, he ends up making a warm mug of lemon ginger tea. Even when he’s trying to not focus on Tango, he subconsciously focuses on him. There’s a metaphor in there, but Nursey is the English major, not him.

Carefully picking up the mug that someone ended up making once upon a time in a ceramics class for a required art credit, he starts the trek up the creaking stairs to the attic. With everyone out, or otherwise busy, it’s quiet. All Whiskey can hear is the creak of the stairs, his own breath, and an occasional mechanical whirring sound.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, the door is closed, which usually means “disturb with caution” so Whiskey tentatively knocks. He ends up quietly calling “Tango?” before remembering that Tango’s lost his voice and should be resting. So he slowly cracks the door, walking into Tango’s room.

“I brought you some tea,” he says, bringing it over to where Tango’s sitting on his bed.

To be completely honest, he looks terrible. He’s still wearing pajamas and is wrapped in about three different blankets, surrounded by a mountain of tissues. He looks paler than usual, his hair sticking up in different directions, no doubt from fitful sleep. His eyes are sad and glassy and his nose is red. He doesn’t look like Tango. He looks like a shell of himself.

“I thought it might help,” he continues, handing the mug over. Tango just nods his thanks.

It’s weird, not having Tango smile brightly at him and prattle on about whatever’s around them. He just looks sad, and Whiskey curses every time freshman year he wished Tango would just shut up. His freshman year self got his wish and it’s awful. He hates it.

And because Tango can’t talk, there’s just silence between them now. Whiskey’s not good with words. He doesn’t know how to make them come out right some of the time. So he just lets them swirl around inside him until they become too much to bear and they force their way out of his mouth.

But Tango isn’t like that. He’s loud, he’s bubbly, and he lets every word in his head come out when it wants. He talks about what he wants to talk about. He’s generous with his words, freely talking to anyone about anything. It’s breathtaking to be around him. He fills the world with ideas and thoughts, and Whiskey loves it.

Being around Tango feels like warmth and love. It feels like sitting on the bus together: Tango with his friendship bracelets and Whiskey with his homework that he gives up on doing when Tango ropes him into watching a movie with him. It feels like his Abuela’s cooking. It feels like sitting in the sun in the Quad, surrounded by friends. It feels like...Tango.

But it doesn’t feel like that right now. Tango’s quiet. So Whiskey takes a deep breath and starts talking.

He talks about his day. He talks about his confusion when he walked into the Haus and it was quiet and how he was scared someone died (Tango tries to laugh a little at that but ends up in a coughing fit). He talks about Arizona. He talks about the latest Capitals and Rangers game. He talks about classes. He talks about whatever he can think of because if he can make Tango feel as warm as he makes Whiskey feel, he’d say about a million more words.

But a million words still wouldn’t be enough to explain how much he loves him.

[cricketnationrise]

I brought a nurseydex pacific rim AU for your table

what it says on the tin. will probably expand on this ~later~

_X_

Will is crawling around inside of the oldest jaeger, Obsidian Star, when he hears the other techs say his name.

“Will being here is such a waste, honestly.”

“Oh, be fair – “

“No! If you want to be a pilot, be a pilot. Don’t waste our time being an amazing tech which we desperately need if you’re just gonna fuck off as soon as you get a chance to drift with someone.”

The pair wanders away, leaving Will completely flushed with embarrassment and anger. Thank god he doesn’t recognize those voices – he doesn’t trust himself not to lash out at them and get fired, because he really needs this job.

And. It’s not like they’re wrong.

Will wants to pilot a jaeger. More than anything. He grew up hearing stories of his Uncle Joe and his Dad being shipped all over the front to help defend humanity. And to little 6-year-old Will, nothing sounded better.

He knows more now, knows how dangerous the job is, knows the odds of him ever getting a chance to pilot is slim to none. He wants it anyway.

So here he is – working as a jaeger tech for tuition to the pilot academy. Maybe he’ll have enough next year to just work on being a pilot.

He wipes his hands on his rag and crawls out, stretching out his shoulders as he leaves the pilot rig and heads back to the shop. Hall looks up as he enters.

“Hey Will, you get Obsidian squared away, then?” he asks.

“Yup. Should be good to go. Need anything else today?”

“You’re good. Get some sleep, son, you look like you need it.”

No kidding. Picking up every shift possible around his class schedule means that he gets a lot of overtime, but not a lot of time to sleep. He’ll gladly take a full night off for once.

_X_

Nursey is frustrated.

How was it possible that he wasn’t drift compatible with ONE PERSON in the entire pilot program?

He liked to think he was chill enough to get along with, and open about his feelings enough for a handshake to go well. Or at least, not catastrophically. But try as he might, no one seemed a good fit. He’d thought Ransom might be a good option – but he’s so wrapped up in Holster that Nursey really should have known better. Shitty wasn’t a good match, despite Shitty having come through the same high school. Chowder and Bitty had both been close but not quite right. Ollie and Wicks were already fucking married for shit’s sake. There wasn’t anyone else at his level. Well, there was Jack, but it felt like he and Nursey had taken one look at each other and Known they weren’t going to drift well.

Maybe his moms were right that he should look at some people from the lower levels. Or a different school –

THUD

“Ow, watch where you’re going! You’re not the only one in the hall, asshole.”

“Well fuck you too, sorry dude, didn’t see you. Chill,” Nursey says as he scrambles back to his feet and looks over at who he had, apparently, knocked over. An extremely tall, extremely freckly red-head with the most interesting eyes Nursey had ever seen is glaring at him. How had Nursey never even seen this guy before? Was he a tech? Surely Nursey would have known if this guy was in the pilot program?

“Don’t tell me to chill,” grumbles the mystery guy.

Nursey raises his hands, “Sorry, jeez,” and then, unable to help himself asks, “What’s your name? You a pilot? Or a tech?”

“Will. Poindexter, Pilot,” a short pause while Will seemed to be thinking something over and then, reluctantly, “Or, I’m trying to be.”

“Chi – I mean, that’s cool man, I’m Nursey,” he said, offering his hand.

“Yeah I know. Nice to meet you. Sorry for being rude.” Will mumbled, shaking his hand. “I gotta go.”

All Nursey could do was stare after him. He’d never gotten a jolt just from a handshake before. He shakes his head, trying to clear it, and continues back to his bunk. He’s trying to be a pilot….

_X_

Shit shit shit, Will thinks as he hurries away from Nursey. He’d never be allowed to be a pilot now. Not after being so rude to Nursey. Derek Nurse. Son of the most celebrated pilot duo and current training officers at Samwell Pilot Academy. He’s so screwed.

As if that wasn’t enough, Nursey had to be the most attractive person he’d ever met in real life.

Of all people to catch Will at just the wrong time, it had to be Nursey. He knows he’s not great at meeting new people, but he is usually polite, at least.

He slams the door to his bunk behind him, breathing hard, trying to stave off a panic attack. Will checks his email as he calms down, noting absently that there is a general Drift Sparring session scheduled for tomorrow after lunch for levels 5 and up. At level 4, Will doesn’t qualify, and he’s got a shift tomorrow anyway.

He gets in bed, mentally reviewing what he learned in class that day and trying not to focus on his worry that he’d be asked to leave SPA before they’d even let him try drifting with someone. And trying not to think Nursey’s green eyes.

He fails.

_X_

[musinglymuse]

Bonnie and Clyde. Achilles and Patroclus. Blue Beetle and Booster Gold. Ransom and Holster. Affectionately known as Holsom, this duo are the best bros in Check Please! Whether it’s platonic or romantic, they’re bros for life. What’s more wholesome than that? It’s even implied that they kissed once upon a time... whether this is a sign or not, it’s totally up to you!

I’ve compiled some of what I consider excellent fanfics that feature this couple (romantically!) although it does not contain all of my recommendations. They are in no particular order. I plan on creating more recommendation lists down the line, especially for other pairings in this fandom. You can find other fic recs tagged in my blog.

As a reminder, please make sure to check the tags and any warnings before reading. Take care of yourself!

wanna be your romeo by leetlebird Romeo + Juliet / Much Ado About Nothing AU // R // ~50k

Holster's always said 'fuck the lax bros,' but when he meets Ransom, a new transfer student on the lacrosse team, Holster realizes he wants to be a gentleman and date a lax bro first. (Ransom doesn't think Holster's too bad, either.) As Ransom and Holster navigate their own secret relationship, their teams band together to get Nursey and Dex to stop fighting by any means necessary - even if that means setting them up on a date.

(Romeo and Juliet AU + Much Ado about Nothing AU. Dramatic misunderstandings can only be solved with One Direction, secret make-out sessions, snickerdoodles, Jerry's dates, and - finally - some communication.)

could’ve been us by jennycaakes Post-Canon //  ~5k //  PG-13 

Ollie and Wicks. Jack and Bitty. Nursey and Dex.

Justin and Adam visit Samwell for Bitty's graduation (among other things) and Justin finds himself wondering where he and Adam missed a step.

shake the glitter off your clothes now by YourPalYourBuddy Canon Divergent  // ~5k  // PG-13 It’s an unfamiliar email address. The subject line reads, Congratulations! Your virtual marria…. The app cuts off the full line. Ransom stares at it. Then he taps it open, scanning it frantically. This is — this has to be a joke, there’s no way — Shitty or someone, they must have pranked them, that’s all it is. At the very end of the email it says this: Adam Birkholtz & Justin Oluransi, wedded this day on March 10th, 2015.

Future Perfect by Tintinnabulation_of_the_Bells Canon Divergent // ~14k  // R

WANTED: COMMITTED MONOGAMOUS COUPLES Are you and your significant other in a committed, monogamous relationship? Have you been dating for at least six months? Are you living together? If you meet these criteria (and you are at least 18 years old), you may be eligible to participate in a COMPENSATED study (up to $300) on love and decision making. Please call 617-555-7864 or email romance.jenningslab@samwell.edu

The moment he sees the sign, Holster knows he's struck gold. The only problem is, he and Ransom aren't technically dating. But who are romance and technicalities to stand in the way of a business scheme that's bound to go according to plan?

How to be a Wingman by HugeAlienPie Canon Divergent // ~5k  // G

Ransom's had a wild couple weeks. He's:

-realized he's into Holster; -developed a plan for figuring out if Holster's into him; -discovered that Holster's into someone else

Sure, that last one's disappointing, but for Holster's sake, Ransom can set aside his hurt and be the best wingman in Samwell history. The night just... isn't going the way he'd imagined it.

23 Years, 4 Months, 3 Days by pertainstothesea Psychic Ability AU // ~3k // PG-13

Holster can see into the future, but only one corner of Faber, and only 23 years, 4 months, and 3 days away.

Five Things Adam Birkholtz Learns in HDFS 332: Healthy Couple Relationships by EllyAvon Canon Divergent // ~6k // PG-13

HDFS 332: Healthy Couple Relationships is just the night class Holster is taking with Lardo to fulfill one of his core requirements. He doesn't expect it to drastically change his life.

OR: The Weirdest Healthy Relationships PSA Ever.

OR: Wholesome Holsom

couldn’t picture my life without you by jennycaakes Meet After Samwell AU // ~15k // PG-13

Adam adopts a dog to cope with adulthood. The dog adopts Justin because, well, sometimes dogs just know things.

Things Holster Likes by Euphorion Canon Divergent // ~12k // PG-13

The thing about Ransom was, he wasn’t gay for his best friend.

not funny by applecrumbledore Canon Divergent // ~10k // R

This whole thing feels so weird, like they're betraying some clause of the homosocial bro code that says it's only for fun, you can't actually be gay, like they're letting someone down. But on the other hand, being with each other is the most natural thing they've ever done. Like a chemical reaction, or two halves of something whole, or one of those hand puzzles where the two pieces of metal are all twisted around each other, or the logical and satisfying conclusion of a really good book.

Score by emmgrant01 Canon Divergent // ~12k // NC-17

Ransom and Holster like to score goals for each other, and they like to take care of each other. It was probably just a matter of time before those two things became entangled.

i still don’t know how to be yours by jennycaakes Canon Divergent // ~7k // PG-13

When they’d turned casually hooking-up their senior year into a real relationship, Holster kind of thought he was done with dating forever. He thought Ransom was his person. They were best friends. They fit so fucking well together. They literally moved into Haus 2.0 together and worked together. It’d been a non-issue.

But then Ransom wanted to go back to school, which was great! It really was. Holster knew Ransom was gonna be one kickass doctor eventually. And they’d talked about it, and Ransom moved out so he could be closer to school, and then the work piled up, and then there was fighting, and--

It’s been three years.

[birlcholtz]

fic prompt idea: everyone's gay trope

i see your ‘everyone’s gay trope’ and raise you ‘everyone’s gay trope AND they all wind up coming out to each other at the same brunch party’ where of course gay is an umbrella term for Not Hetero specifically bc i dont want to break up charmer

so, brunch. this is bitty’s junior year, and it’s not THE brunch where jack and bitty reveal they’re dating, but it’s a similar vibe y’know? jack and shitty are there. so’s the rest of the team, so ransom and holster and lardo, bitty and ollie and wicks, nursey and dex and chowder, and whiskey and tango (and ford for good measure it’s late in the semester she’s involved)

and someone (nursey, although shitty will join in bc of course) is complaining about how the swallow keeps ranking the sports teams by gayness because that’s people’s private lives, you know, and like he’s POSITIVE every team has a higher percentage than what’s actually reported bc like. nobody wants to give their personal deets to the swallow

and shitty’s like yeah and also like it’s totally rushing people’s own journeys of self-discovery (am i channeling good shitty-speak) which just like isnt fair like if people are questioning let them question? like i totally didn’t even realize i was demi until like, fuck, halfway through senior year and having the swallow breathing down my fuckin neck wouldnt have helped at all

and nursey’s like YEAH like i’m glad i figured that shit out before i got here so i didn’t have to worry about them interrogating me but then DEX is like idk like at least it’s actually discussed on campus like without the swallow making those rankings all the time i probably never would’ve realized i’m gay

and everyone at the table (minus chowder and nursey) is like ....well we did not know that before! but they do their best to act chill

and then ollie and wicks are both like (in unison) ‘yeah same’ and everyone’s like :0 and bitty’s like holy shit are we the gayest class of samwell men’s hockey and then things go downhill from there and by ‘downhill from there’ i mean once it gets competitive there’s a LOT of people like silently checking with each other before being like ACTUALLY WE’RE THE GAYEST (shitty and bitty get into an argument about whether a diff year can be the gayest if they are not in fact all gay, because bitty is determined that he and ollie and wicks are gonna WIN and shitty is like IT’S AN UMBRELLA TERM YOU DON’T WIN and bitty’s like YOU’RE AN ALUM YOU DON’T WIN EITHER and they go around and around in circles)

and then chowder’s like actually i think we’re the gayest because we’re all together! and then someone is like chowder you’re dating farmer?? and chowder’s like yeah her too! it’s swawesome

meanwhile shitty and bitty are still arguing. jack’s quick reflexes have saved a couple of mimosas from going flying. lardo says something about being pan and ransom and holster high five her and nursey goes to high five her too but dex is like nursey what the fuck she’s not in our year she’s the enemy now

and then chowder’s like hey ford sorry for all the weirdness this is kind of what we’re usually like i hope that’s okay!! and ford’s like actually i’m lesbian so this is totally cool with me and tango high fives her and says something about mlm wlw solidarity and whiskey watches all of this chaos with kind of a blank look on his face and someone (nursey probably) is like wow so we’re at almost 100% that’s pretty cool and then whiskey’s like no we’re at 100%? i’m dating chad k? from the lax team?

and the entire table goes SILENT and shitty’s like SAY THAT AGAIN and whiskey’s like I THOUGHT YOU ALL KNEW and bitty’s like >.> bring this ‘chad k’ to the haus tomorrow. we need to evaluate him

and that’s how the samwell men’s hockey team stole a lax bro via seduction (whiskey) and pies (bitty, by accident-- he didn’t plan to steal chad k but he couldn’t NOT give him pie he’s a GUEST. oops)

[carpe-history]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: post the last line you wrote (from any WIP) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

that's to @lavendersblues for the tag

have a whole group chat from Morning Skates under the cut:

Group Chat – SMH

January 11

Ollie - Bro. All I'm saying is that there is no way the Stars are going to make it to the playoffs this year.

Wicks - I’m not saying you're wrong, but look at them, their centers are Great.

Lardo - are we starting the Argument again? this time for a different division this time?

Wicks – No? idk

Ransom - Good because i do not want a repeat of the Penguins/islanders/habs/flyers roadie debate of last playoffs.

Ransom - RIGHT JACK?

Jack - Can I help it if you are /wrong/?

Wicks - I sense some tension.

Lardo - Yes.

Shitty - wait! I HAVE A MORE IMPORTANT QUESTION.

Jack - yes Shitty?

Shitty - Bitty!!!! DO YOU HAVE A TEAM?!!!!

Ransom - No you’re wrong. MR. FRENCH CANADIAN.

Jack - sorry?

Jack – Penguins over the Habs any day, Ransom.

Jack - family allegiance to the team that didn’t trade my dad for some terrible draft pick midseason kinda wins?

Ransom - NO! NOT AGAIN. THAT’S BS and YOU KNOW IT.

Jack – Don’t care.

Ollie - I wanna know who Bitty’s team is!

Lardo - me too.

Meta - sounds like the kind of character-building fluff that we need to know to pad out our conversations. SO I want to know too.

Bitty - after googling the teams mentioned before I’m going to go with…

Bitty - drumroll!

Bitty - ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Bitty - the penguins!

Jack - Thank you

Bitty - but that will change the moment Jack signs with a team. ｖ（＾＿＾ｖ）♪

Wicks - Fair. I imagine Jack's preference will change too.

Holster - FUCK the penguins

Jack - i WILL drop gloves. like. my. father.

Holster - FUCK, the penguins?

Holster - (Better???)

Jack – yes.

Bitty - yep! The captain’s hot. Jacks’ dad played with them. I like their mascot. ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎

Ransom - CROSBY’s the hot one????? BUT HE’s weird!

Holster - also hockey obsessed.

Lardo - the best mascot is the flyers - you know im right jack.

jack - sigh.

Bitty - dark hair; that jawline; skates well; looks like he can EAT?

Bitty - & that edgework though. o////o

Bitty - just my type.

Bitty - also i hang out with y’all. how is hockey-obsessed a bad thing?

Ransom - NOTED.

Ransom - Eye color not crucial for the future post-Olympics BF?

Bitty - a light color would be nice. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Holster - Hockey butt?

Bitty - his is /nice/. I do appreciate the hockey butt.

Ransom - NOTED and excel’ed!!

Meta - ;D

Jack - Ransom, Crosby is not that weird? At least when we train together in the summer, he’s not that weird.

Wicks - wait, why the penguins, Jack? (other than your dad?) (or is your dad?)

Jack - Ransom, he makes good sandwiches.

Holster - you… train with CROSBY

Jack - In the summer, yes? Since arriving at Samwell?

Ransom - YOU NEVER TOLD US THAT????

Jack – I thought it was common knowledge?

Jack - it also never came up. and he likes his privacy. Few cameras. It’s great. He wanted a challenge. Uncle Mario gave him my info. He's a good training partner.

Holster - … of course he is.

Wicks - /UNCLE MARIO/!!!!!!!

Shitty - you get used to that. really you do.

Shitty - WHAT ABOUT THE BRUINS?

Ollie - NO. THE WILD.

Wicks - NO. STARS.

Jack - no. Penguins

Meta - nope~! Sharks for my replacement goalie. This way i don’t need to choose a team and narratively it will make more sense in the long run.

Holster - NO SHITTY. (islanders? Is this a thing we’re doing???)

Lardo - YES. (BRUINS.)

Jack - Wicks, I was born in Pittsburgh. And the Habs traded papa midseason for a draft pick. wrong move on their part.

Ransom - WE KNOW JACK. (HABS)

Shitty - wait, YOU WERE?! I had NO IDEA.

Jack - Shitty, yes. Papa retired when I was ten. He didn't want to move mom around much while she was pregnant with me. Then the habs did /that/. Now it’s penguins until I get signed.

Meta - you can tell the author just figured out who her favorite team is.

Bitty - Johnson, is “the author” a way of saying the Lord for you?

Meta - maybe? IDK? The Author is the Author. There are so many different Authors but also there is only one Author. it’s all so much. There are so many options and canon divergence. It’s hard to stay present when the plot moves forward without you off the frame? Are these transformative stories really my best characterization? Or is Canon? as has been said before “am I a goalie or an idea of one?”

Meta - so, probably?

Bitty - why do i feel like this is a ‘never change, Meta’ moment?

Lardo - because It is. Welcome to the club Bitty.

[wrathofthestag]

What Jack Dreams of When He Sleeps

Summary: Jack’s phone began to ding. He opened up his text window and just about fell out bed. “Câlisse,” he said in a whisper. He sat up and scrolled through three photos of Bitty.  He looked self-assured. Strong. Intimidating.  What happens when Jack realizes he has a kink he never knew he had...  Okay, look, it doesn't take much to push me into writing a fic. All @jack-manpain-zimmermann had to do was poke me with a stick and, well, here we are. This fic is based on this post.  Also on AO3...

SMH OG CHAT GROUP

Shitty: Bittster! A little ducky told me that you freaking murdered some youngsters, brah. Poor eggs.

Bitty: A little ducky?

Lardo: Yeah, I may or may not have asked a certain hackey team manager for deets. Also, she was SO not happy with you, dude.

Bitty: Oh lord!

Ransom: DUDE! Holy shit, you power hungry little nugget.

Holster: You can’t see this but I am wiping a tear from my face right now.

Ransom: #accurate

Jack: Haha. Bittle, what did you do?

Bitty: Not much.

Shitty: Then Nursey corroborated with Lards and said you were fucking amazeballs. Had them carrying blankets around campus, fines up the wazoo, dancing to Bey.

Jack: You did the Solo Lady dance after all?

Lardo: SOLO LADY

Holster: Bwuahahaha

Bitty: Single Ladies! Jack, I swear you do this on purpose.

Jack: I confirm or deny nothing. :-)

Shitty: You had them calling you sir, withheld baked goods, and Nurse said you were like a heartbeat away from busting out a whip.

Ransom: Who would’ve thought Bitty would become a bossy, power-crazed despot as Captain?

Bitty: Y’all are exaggerating. I’m leaving now.

+++

“So, how did it go?” Jack asked as he settled into bed for the night. He was exhausted after his long day and hearing Bitty’s voice always relaxed him.

“Sweetheart, it was so much fun. Nursey and Ollie took pictures. I can send you some. They texted me a billion of them.”

“Sure. So the Solo Lady dance went well?”

“Stop!” Bitty yelled with laughter.

“Taylor Swift, right?” Jack deadpanned.

“I miss you,” Bitty said softly with a gentle sigh. Jack could practically hear the smile in his voice.

Jack gripped his phone tightly, “I miss you, too.”

“When am I going to see you again?”

“Next week, promise,” Jack said as he stretched in bed.

“Good. The sooner the better."

Jack stifled a yawn.

"Sweetpea, go to bed. You sound exhausted.”

“No, I’m okay,” Jack argued.

“Jack…”

“I’m fine.”

“Jack, I mean it. Go to bed.”

Jack sighed, he knew there was no point in arguing. Bitty usually got what he wanted, and Jack loved making him happy. All Bitty ever had to do was ask and Jack would do it, whatever it was.

“Fine--but, send me some pictures of the haze. I want to see how funny everyone looks.”

“Will do. I’ll send you a couple tonight and the rest tomorrow. Now sleep!”

“Ransom was right,” Jack said laughing. “You’re so bossy.”

“You like it,” Bitty replied saucily.

“Haha. Love you, Bits.”

“Love you, too. Night, sweetheart.”

A minute later, Jack’s phone began to ding. He opened up his text window and just about fell out bed.

“Câlisse,” he said in a whisper.

He sat up and scrolled through three photos of Bitty. Bitty wore sunglasses and stood with his arms crossed in one; Nursey and Dex behind him. Bitty looked self-assured. Strong. Intimidating.

There was another of Bitty lowering his sunglasses, presumably speaking to the eggs.

“Fuck,” Jack said as he took in Bitty’s look.

Finally, there was the last photo. Bitty was flanked by Ollie and Wicks.

Jack picked up his phone and began rapidly texting: Bits, you look so fucking hot in these.

He paused, deleted part of the message and retyped: Bits, you look amazing in these.

He paused yet again and typed: Bits, you wear your captaincy well.

Jack put his phone down and cleared his throat, then tossed the phone off to the side. He’d just talk to Bitty tomorrow.

Jack turned his light off and huffed out a breath of air. He ran his hands through his hair then stretched to pick up his phone again which had bounced off the bed.

Jack pulled up the photo of Bitty with arms across his chest once more. He stared at it intently.

“Wow…” he muttered as he touched the screen, then put his phone back down.

He turned over onto his tummy and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. He was so tired, it didn’t take long.

+++

Jack sat on a metal folding chair in what appeared to be center ice at Faber. He looked around the darkened rink. It was empty, save for himself.

“Hello?” he called out.

He heard the swish-swish-swish of blades as they cut through the ice, then noticed a form approaching. A soft spotlight shone on him, and instantly Jack recognized the golden head of hair that neared.

“Bits?”

Bitty skated towards Jack as the spotlight created delicious shadows across his chest and broad shoulders. He wore a tight black t-shirt that stretched across his biceps. Jack swallowed when he noticed Bitty also wore his tiny red shorts. The Red Shorts.

Bitty’s quads flexed as he stopped right in front of Jack and snowed the ice slightly. He laughed--a tiny thing.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked.

“Hey, honey,” Bitty replied with a smirk.

Jack watched as Bitty languidly stretched and easily brought a leg up in a standing high split. His figure skating flexibility still strong, even after all those years. Bitty smiled as he brought his leg down and skated away from Jack backward.

“Wh--what are you doing?”

Bitty skated toward Jack and slowly dropped to his knees, inserting himself in the space between Jack’s legs. He smiled and leaned in as he pressed a soft kiss to Jack’s lips.

“Will you promise to stay here, while I go get something?” Bitty asked.

“On this chair?”

Bitty nodded as he bit his lower lip.

“What are you getting?”

“You’ll see. Don’t get up. I mean it,” Bitty said as he wagged his forefinger.

“I won’t.”

Jack watched and admired Bitty's ass as he skated away.

“Good boy,” he called out from the darkness.

Jack gripped the sides of the chair and wanted to get up and follow, but stayed put.

Just then, the lights were turned on and Jack squinted.

“Bits?” he called out.

Bitty returned with a hockey stick draped across the back of his shoulders. His hands rested on each end of the stick. A roll of tape hung off one side.

“I see you stayed put. Very good,” Bitty said as he skated toward Jack. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome?” Jack said with a confused grin.

Bitty approached Jack, took the tape, placed the stick off to the side and then straddled Jack. Jack’s breath hitched as Bitty ground his hips down slightly. In this position, the two were nose to nose. Bitty’s enormous brown eyes blinked slowly as he looked at Jack intently.

“Would you do something else for me?”

“Yes,” Jack replied immediately.

Bitty tossed his head back and chuckled. He raised it and looked at Jack again. “But you don’t even know what I’m going to ask for.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“No? Well now, I like the sound of that,” Bitty said. “Do you trust me?”

Jack swallowed as Bitty leaned in and pressed his lips near Jack’s ear. “Do you trust me?” he asked again.

Jack nodded.

“What was that?” Bitty asked.

“Yes,” Jack said, voice gravelly.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

Jack puckered his lips and Bitty smirked as he leaned in and gave Jack the kiss he wordlessly asked for. Bitty pulled back and let his eyes brush across Jack’s face.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Jack shrugged with a smile, “Whatever you want.”

Bitty got up from the chair, grinned and took out a pair of sunglasses from his back pocket. He slid them on and then barked at Jack. “Up! Get up!”

Jack looked at Bitty with confusion.

“Now, Zimmermann! Raise that glorious ass of yours out of that chair,” Bitty yelled.

Jack shot up and only then realized he was wearing skates.

“Suicides! To the blue line and back,” Bitty said. He took his hockey stick and slapped it into the palm of his hand like an evil metronome. “Now!”

Jack pushed off and began to skate.

“Good! Now to the red line and back!”

Jack zipped back and forth, breath heaving, quads pushing hard, hard, harder still. Then Bitty skated in front of Jack and held his arms out as Jack slid right into them.

Bitty jumped up and wrapped his legs around Jack’s waist as the two began to frantically kiss. Soon enough, they were up against the boards, pressing into one another, deep kisses melting them together. The sunglasses bounced across the ice.

Bitty pulled back as he tried to catch his breath. A trickle of sweat rolled down Jack’s temple, and Bitty dipped in to lick it. Jack groaned instinctively.

He slid down and casually skated away back toward the chair. He ran his hand along the back and said, “Come here, Jack.”

Jack obliged and sat, he couldn’t help but smile… and be a little afraid.

“What’s so funny?” Bitty purred.

“Nothing,” Jack said as he sat up straighter.

“Nothing, what?”

Jack blinked at Bitty who stood leaning against the hockey stick. His stance was tall, authoritative. Bitty raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Nothing… sir?”

Bitty giggled. He straight up giggled, and Jack felt a jolt of desire shoot through him.

“Listen up, Zimmermann. I'm going to explain this once.” Bitty paused, lifted the stick and rested it on one shoulder. “You are going to sit in this chair and not move, under any circumstances. Get it?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack said as he gripped the sides of the chair tighter.

“Wonderful!” Bitty said with a bright smile. He dropped the stick and it clanked onto the ice with an echoey crash.

He then took one lap around the rink; his legs, strong and sinewy as they worked to take Bitty around. Bitty sped up and then did a quick axel jump, his arms spread wide as he landed. Out of breath and glowing, Bitty skated up to Jack who sat positively still on the chair.

He slid his hands down Jack’s shoulders, forearms, and stopped at the wrists as he slowly rose. He took the roll of tape which sat next to the chair and skated around Jack as he took Jack’s wrists behind the chair.

Jack could hear the rip of the tape then the soft sticky pressure of the tape around his wrists, binding them together snuggly. His breath was shaky as he turned his head to try to get a peek.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t run away.” Bitty got up and whispered low in Jack’s ear. “Is this okay?”

Jack’s eyes fluttered shut as he licked his lips and nodded.

“No. I wanna hear words,” Bitty said and pressed a kiss onto Jack’s carotid.

“Yes,” Jack said hoarsely.

“Yes, what?” Bitty asked. He turned to face Jack and held Jack’s chin in his hand. Both Jack and Bitty’s eyes were dark pools of desire and want.

“Yes, sir…”

Bitty slowly sank into Jack’s lap as his thighs wrapped around tightly.

“Kiss me,” Bitty said breathily.

“Yes, sir,” Jack replied.

“Now.”

The arch of a back, the slap of the skin, all sense of propriety gone.

“Yes,” Jack panted as Bitty released his lips and bit down on his neck. “Yes!"

Jack moaned loudly, momentarily lost in the lust coursing through him as he quickly sat up in bed and came out of his haze of desire. He panted and swallowed as he tried to ground himself. His heartbeat was a riot.

“Shit,” he muttered as he looked down and realized his boxer briefs were sticky and wet.

He sighed and made his way out of bed and toward the bathroom. What was that all about? Jack licked his lips and scrubbed his face once to fully waken.

He tossed his underwear in his hamper and reached for some toilet paper to wipe himself off when he was hit with a vision of Bitty holding a hockey stick in his hand and laughing.

He ran to his bedroom and looked for his phone lost among the sheets and quickly opened up his texts. He pulled up the photo of Bitty and stared at it with his mouth open.

“Jesus,” Jack whimpered.

He gazed hotly at it for a few more beats, then quickly got up. It was three in the morning, there would be no traffic. He figured he could be at the haus in 35 minutes.

Thirty if he sped...

[likeshipsonthesea]

When he first started at Samwell, things were rough for a bit. Ollie’d never been away from home for that long before, and he had a tight-knit family, him and his mom and his sister. He called them every day but he still missed the comfort of a hug or the easiness of teasing his little sister about her skinned knees from soccer. Samwell was nice, don’t get him wrong, but even with all of its wonders, it wasn’t home.

Wicks made it better. God, so much better. Ollie’d never had someone who complemented him so perfectly. If he started a sentence, he knew Wicks could finish it. If he was feeling shitty, he knew that Wicks could make it better. And it went both ways. Ollie understood Wicks in such an instinctual way that it almost scared him. It would have, if he hadn’t liked it so much.

So things were tough, but he had Wicks, and Wicks had him. Sometimes it felt like they only had each other here. “Hey,” Ollie remembers Wicks saying back in their frog year, one night when he was sleeping over in Ollie’s dorm, the room dark and their voices quiet. “Do you ever get, like. A little jealous?”

“Of Bitty?” Wicks made an affirmative noise. “Yeah, kinda.”

Cause the thing was, Samwell Men’s Hockey was probably the most inclusive team Ollie had ever been on. They wanted everyone there to feel loved and accepted. Ollie definitely felt like he could be himself in front of them without question. But there was a center group, and Bitty was a part of it, and they weren’t.

Sometimes it was hard not to be jealous of him. All three of them were frogs that year, yet only Bitty was adopted so fully. Ransom and Holster took him and Wicks under their wings defense-wise, but they weren’t their frogs in the way Bitty was. Bitty was bright and kind and warm, and Ollie and Wicks thought he was a pretty chill dude on and off the ice (well, aside from that checking thing) but sometimes looking at him just hurt.

Time went on and the hurt mellowed, of course. They picked their own frogs, had their own groups. Ollie hung out with the other philosophy kids, and tagged along when Wicks went out with his trivia group. He had a book club he went to weekly that read almost exclusively YA sci-fi novels. He and his roommates had a movie-night at least once every two-weeks.

(It was actually after one of those movie sessions that Ollie realized he kind of maybe was in love with Wicks. He’d been on his phone the whole movie and his roommate laughed, chirping him, asking “What could be more important than the love story of Captain America and the Winter Soldier?” and Ollie realized he’d rather be texting Wicks than ogling Chris Evans’ ass.)

(Their first date was actually to see Civil War. They made out the whole time, much to the chagrin of the nerd girls behind them.)

So they had other things in their lives, and their hurt at not being accepted like Bitty disappeared almost entirely. It sat in the back of their minds if it existed at all, and if there were moments-- like kiss the ice, or graduation-- where they felt excluded, they had each other, and they had home.

When Holster and Ransom called them over to the Haus that rainy Monday morning, Ollie didn’t think anything of it. The semester was only halfway done and possibly Holster needed help calming Ransom out of his coral reef mode again? Ollie really had no idea.

Then Holster held out the keys.

“Why us?” Ollie heard himself ask, after listening to a long speech about the sanctity of the Haus attic.

He was expecting something about the d-man loft tradition (even though that would have fit Nursey and Dex just fine) or some waffling about how Wicks had experience with the supernatural (he frequented the Buzzfeed Unsolved videos far too often) but that wasn’t what they said.

“You’re a part of this team, guys,” Ransom said. “You’re hardworking, you look after the younger guys, you care.”

They shared a look and Holster went on, “We want you guys in this Haus because we need people who know what it means to “have someone’s back”. You guys embody that more than anybody else.”

Ollie knew he was crying because Wicks pulled him into a side-hug and ruffled his hair, which he only did when he wanted to distract Ollie from his own emotions. Ollie laughed through the tears and pulled Holster and Ransom in for a group hug. In that moment, there wasn’t a part of him who was jealous.

[justlookfrightened]

The Mayor of Halloween Town

This is filling an anonymous prompt for Bitty dressing up as Jack Skellington, and Jack’s reaction.

Bitty pulled the garment bag out of his closet and considered.

He’d brought this with him specifically for Halloween. He’d done the puck bunny thing last year – speaking of terrible life choices. He wasn’t sure who took the pictures that ended up on the Swallow’s website, but he’d had people making rabbit ears at him for weeks.

The year before that he’d been Mrs. Lovett because pies, but this year, he wanted something not so … feminine, maybe, not that anyone would consider Mrs. Lovett a sex symbol or anything.

But this year, he was the captain of this team, and the Halloween kegster came just after the season started, and he needed something that would demonstrate that he was in charge. Or at least not make him seem cute.

On a visit home before returning for the school year (and wasn’t that a change: his parents’ home was now a place he visited), he’d spent an afternoon helping Mama organize the attic, moving some of his old things out of his parents’ way and making room for Mama’s new sewing machine in the guest room.

That was what gave him the idea, really. The old things in the attic, both the collection of Halloween Town figurines and the rack with his old figure skating costumes.

There was the tiny statue of Jack Skellington, the leader of Halloween Town. And there was the black coat he’d bought for his last costume – he’d planned to skate to Phantom – but, well, that skate never happened.

The coat had been a bit big then, and it was more than a bit snug now, but that would work for what he wanted. He still had black tights that fit, and a dance belt. He could do this: Not a burly monster or a bedraggled zombie, but the spritely skeleton who was clearly in charge of the holiday.

With the bag stashed in the closet, Bitty had gone along with it when the frogs started talking about a Halloween kegster. The new baby tadpoles (what do you call a frog before it’s a tadpole?) had been around for two months, and they were ready to be exposed to the drunken debauchery of a real Haus party. As long as Bitty could make sure they ate enough and drank enough water.

Ollie and Wicks were eager to prove their version of tub juice was just as revoltingly strong as Ransom and Holster’s, and the rest of the boys were itching for some fun.

But when Dex and Nursey came up with the idea of a Haunted Haus kegster, Bitty had wanted to talk them out of it. First, because he wasn’t sure tub juice and jump scares were entirely compatible; second, because he didn’t want people losing it in his kitchen, and there was no way on God’s green earth that any of the boys would allow guests upstairs during a kegster, and a haunted Haus meant people would have to go somewhere; and third, because he wanted to be Jack Skellington, and that just wasn’t scary enough for a haunted house. Or maybe that was first.

But that was a selfish reason, so he agreed to the Haunted Haus party. All the haunting would be on the ground floor of the Haus, and guests would be escorted from the end of the spooky pathway through the kitchen and out to the back porch, where they could get more drinks (“Dude, everyone has to drink before they go in,” Wicks had insisted. “That’s not safe,” Bitty countered. “Not everyone can have alcohol, or wants to.” “They can drink water for all I care,” Ollie declared. “They just have to drink.”)

With Bitty on board, the new Haus mates started planning in earnest. Nursey called on his theater friends to offer props, Dex planned for creepy creaking doors and caskets, ghosts and spiders dropping suddenly from the ceiling, and bursts of mist and cool air. Nursey was creating and a soundtrack of screams and moans (“Sweet!” Wicks said. “That’ll reduce some inhibitions.”)

Even Chowder got into it, talking about the vintage goalie mask he could wear to portray a terrifying serial killer.

“He’ll have to wear it to scare anyone,” Bitty told Jack over Skype that night. “Chowder can’t be frightening unless he has a goalie mask on. Kind of eerie how that happens.”

“So what are you going to be?” Jack said. “How will I recognize you when I come up?”

“You’re not seriously going to come, are you?” Bitty said. “I mean, I know we talked about spending Halloween together since you don’t have a game, but it’s going to be a fright show up here. Literally.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jack said. “I’ll wear a costume. You won’t have to stay all night, right?”

“No, and we don’t practice until the next afternoon,” Bitty said. “I’m thinking of making my escape to Providence and let the boys handle the cleanup. I’m not sure I really want to do a haunted Haus anyway.”

“Not a fan, eh?” Jack said. “You don’t like being scared like that? We can go through together if you want.”

“You think I’m gonna want to cling my big strong boyfriend?” Bitty said, managing to hold it a moment before snorting. “Jack, honey, I’m always happy to get close to you, but I don’t think anything these guys come up with will scare me. Especially since we all are gonna have to help set it up.”

“Guess I’ll see you there then, bud,” Jack said. “Maybe I can cling to you.”

When the call ended, Bitty breathed a sigh of relief. He’d managed to distract Jack from pursuing his question about Bitty’s costume, and Bitty wanted it to be a surprise. He’d promised Jack he wouldn’t show as much skin as he had last year (“If you’re dressed like that, lapinou, I won’t be able to leave your room without everyone at the party knowing how I feel about you”), but he wanted the costume to be a surprise.

******************************

Jack waited until 9:30 to leave for the Haus. He’d promised himself he’d wait until 10, knowing kegsters didn’t really get going much before then and his arrival would be less likely to cause a stir if everyone was past their first cup of tub juice, but Bitty was there, so that was where he wanted to be.

He checked himself out in the mirror: plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, cowboy hat, bandanna that he could pull over his face if he needed to. He couldn’t do much about the jeans – they were one of his two regular pairs, since he had to have them specially tailored. Even if they didn’t look like he’d been riding the range, Bitty assured him they showed off his, uh, assets, to their best advantage. A costume store gun belt with plastic six-shooters completed the look.

It was Halloween, but it was also a Monday night, so traffic from Providence to Samwell was light and Jack had parked his car down the block and was making his way to the Haus by 10:15.

It seemed like most of Samwell’s student body was headed toward the Haus, with costumes ranging from zombies and witches to firefighters and cheerleaders.

He was just heading toward the front porch when he heard someone say, “Well, get an eyeful of you, Jack. I gotta say, that’s a good look for you. Helps make Halloween the wonderful holiday it is.”

Jack looked around to see who was talking to him. He thought he looked pretty good – better than with the lame cat ears from last year – but that was a little over the top. But no one seemed to have even noticed he was there. The guy talking was on the porch steps, addressing someone in the shadows of the hanging spiderweb.

Must be another Jack, then.

Then Jack heard Bitty’s warm laugh.

“So that means I’d best be happy with Halloween and not take over Christmas, too?” he said. “You’re too kind. I see you have your drink; step right in and see the frights! Don’t worry, there’s plenty of cookies and snacks to revive you at the end.”

Bitty had stepped into the light and was holding the door open for the guy, who was in a traditional Dracula outfit.

“How about a bite out of your neck?” Dracula said. “I vant to suck your –”

“Oh, there’ll be plenty of people back there to try that line on,” Bitty said. “But the only way to get to the party is through the Haus. Good luck! Try not to scream!”

And with Bitty’s hand firmly at his back, the guy was through the door and Jack could take a long look at his boyfriend, whose body somehow looked longer and leaner that usual. He was wearing a black suit – sort of. The jacket was nearly form-fitting, with tails in the back and a tie that looked like a bat. If the jacket was nearly form-fitting, the pants were – well, Jack couldn’t see any underwear lines under the glare of the porch lights, but the bulge at his groin was clearly apparent.

Jack forced his eyes back up. Bitty’s hair was slicked back and his face was white, with his features made up to look like black sutures. And the guy had called him Jack. Must be some character – not Jack Sparrow, although that look would be good on Bitty too, he thought.

“Howdy, partner,” Jack said, stepping into the light.

Bitty turned and caught sight of him.

“Jack! You make a great cowboy! Haus rules are that you have to have a drink to go in, but it doesn’t have to be whatever excuse for tub juice these boys have put together. There’s beer, or water.”

“Mmm, much like the vampire, I’d rather have you.”

Bitty made a face that made the drawn-in mouth twist. “Heard that, did you?”

“You did an admirable job of sending him to the demons,” Jack said. “You are something in that. Do you have to stay here?”

“Not really,” Bitty said, slipping his phone from a pocket Jack hadn’t noticed. “I’m the captain, remember? Let me get one of the tadpoles to take over the door. Then I will escort you through the haunted Haus with no interruptions.”

“You’re sure about that?” Jack asked skeptically.

“You forget, I am the mayor of Halloween Town,” Bitty pronounced.

“Really?” Jack asked.

“Jack, you don’t know who I am?”

“You’re the mayor of Halloween Town.”

“Jack! I’m Jack Skellington! From Nightmare Before Christmas? You must have seen it.”

“Skellington? Like a skeleton? That’s why you look so thin?”

“And move so gracefully,” Bitty said, pirouetting on the threshold as Tango arrived.

“The door is yours, my good man.”

Jack crowded up behind Eric as they entered the darkened living room.

“I don’t doubt the moves,” he said. “But I know there’s more than skin and bones under that suit. Let’s get through this as fast as we can and hit the trail, eh?”

“Sure thing, partner,” Bitty said. “Let’s see if those guns of yours fire anything but blanks.”

Then he giggled, and Jack laughed, and he was having the best Halloween of his life.

[zimms]

Idk why but my immediate thought was "Ollie Wicks kinda dating but they haven't Talked properly yet but now they have attic dibs and they have to have the Talk as they decided if they're doing the attic up as a One Bedroom together or keeping the bunks" do with it what you will ig ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for this prompt! hopefully this is what you wanted!

Ollie rolls over in the (uncomfortably small) bed to face Wicky. "Hey dude, you know how we have the attic next year?"

Wicky opens an eye to stare at Ollie. "Yeah?" he mumbles into the pillow. "Rans and Holtzy literally gave us their dibs like two hours ago; what's up?" He pushes himself up so that he’s leaning against the headboard.

“I was thinking about how we could change up the room? Like, would we change any of the furniture?”

Wicky grins “Well, obviously we’d get rid of the bunk beds.”

Ollie cuts him off. "Why would we change the beds? Like, those bunk beds are sacred. I think Ransom and Holster might kill us if we got rid of them." Ollie's mouth keeps moving and blurting out verbal nonsense as he watches Wicky's face fall as if in slow motion. Wicky's suddenly wide awake and blinking away tears.

Ollie panics faster than he ever has in his life. "Wait, what did I do wrong? Pacer, look at me." Ollie places his hand underneath his (friend- no, boyfriend -no, partner?) partner's chin and tilted it to so that their eyes met. "What's up?"

The tears continue to roll down Wicky's cheeks. "I thought we were on the same page." He sniffs and sobs periodically. "You want to be in the bunk beds?"

Ollie's speechless. "Yeah?" he says. "What else what we do?"

“I don’t know.” Wicky mutters into his hands. “Why would I be upset that my  boyfriend of two years doesn’t want to share a bed with me when we finally have our own room and we get to choose the kind of bed we sleep on.”

Wait, what?

His boyfriend of what now?

What?

Ollie shoots bolt upright. “We’re dating?”

Wicky’s sobs become louder as the tears begin to drop onto the bedsheets.  “This is even worse.” He wipes his puffy eyes. “Yes, we’re dating. Did you-? Did you not know?”

“I thought you wanted us to just be fuckbuddies. Hold on, you want us to be dating?”

Wicky’s tears are beginning to evaporate now as he blinks. “Yes, I literally just said that. Do you want to rub it in again or something?”

Ollie frowns. “Why would I do that? No, I’m just adjusting to the fact that my entire world view just shifted.” He scrunches his eyebrows together. “If we’re dating, that means that I can do this.” He swoops in to capture Wicky’s lips in a kiss, a real one this time, rather than the chaste ones that he thought he could get away if they were just fuckbuddies. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Wicky’s eyes gleam with unshed tears and he breaks the kiss to look down at Ollie’s face. “You do?” He holds Ollie’s cheeks with both of his hands. “I love you so fucking much.” Wicky’s lips fall back onto Ollie’s as if he has no choice but to make out with him. They resume their kiss, each drinking in the other as much as they can, endeavouring to learn every detail of the other’s mouth until it was just as familiar as their own

(Later: 

“Anyway, what are we going to do about the bunk beds?” 

“Pfft, is that even a question? We obviously need to buy a double bed. Or are you comfortable with our sleeping arrangements at the moment?”

“Okay, that’s valid. Speaking of which, could you possibly roll off of my arm?”)

[fabermemorialrink]

some mistake, part 3

This part marks the end of what would be chapter one! Still a good handful of sections to upload after this one, but uh I should warn you I probably left off in the middle of writing the most important part, so I hope y’all don’t mind some suspense later on haha. Thanks again for reading!!

So Derek takes Dex’s advice to heart and tries, he really does, and...it kind of works. There are some people in each of his classes that he becomes friendly with, that he can grab a bite with or have study sessions with. And the team has several guys he's pretty close to now. There's Shitty, who’s easy to talk to and shows his support for Derek in his free-spirited, oft-naked way, and Ransom and Holster, who take him under their defensive wing. Ollie and Wicks, Indy and Alph and manager Sierra who treats them all like her out-of-control little brothers.

Derek likes them all but just even being in school drains him every day, over time. There's nothing wrong with any of them, per se, but they're all part of the same system, and it's like a vortex of bleakness that everyone at Andover is caught in. So he goes to class and talks to the tolerable people, and re-learns every single morning how to ignore the intolerable ones, and he goes to practice and bonds with the guys, and when it starts cascading into the always present shadow of pressure and prejudice, he escapes to where he can take a moment, just to be himself without being berated for having the audacity to exist.

He doesn't usually see Dex when he's just meditating in his hidey-hole, his head poking out to rest on the roots and stare up at the treasured glimpses of sky that are revealed to him through the shifting leaves. But he realizes soon enough, shortly before he heads back to the city for Thanksgiving break (because all three of his parents are actually going to be home simultaneously for once) that when he dares to delve deeper, and the woods entangles itself around him slowly and imperceptibly until he's lost in a dark corner again, Dex appears like clockwork to rescue him.

It's an accident at first, just a genuine attempt to try and teach himself more about the outdoors. He read up on camping and shit, and some Thoreau for good measure, but putting what he read into practice doesn't seem hugely successful for Derek. Inevitably, he ends up stranded in the unknown - in the inner ring, as Dex finally tells him one day when they're sitting by a pond Derek's never seen before and eating trail mix he swiped from the dining hall - where his sense of direction fails him.

Dex is nothing if not supremely reliable and strangely, suspiciously, always aware of Derek's whereabouts, so Derek is never left waiting long before Dex storms out to chastise him for endangering himself. Derek still doesn’t get it, because literally nothing seems to live in the goddamn woods except his ginger stalker/self-appointed bodyguard/friend, so he continues to tell Dex to chill and make half-baked promises to not get himself murdered. Dex always does this hilarious hand-clench of frustration when Derek brushes off his concerns, but nevertheless semi-reluctantly puts up with his company until he deems it too dark or too cold for Derek to stay any longer.

Soon it becomes habit to search Dex out whenever Derek's feeling numb. On good days, they get along, talking about the junk they’re interested in. Dex isn’t up to date on the newest shows or movies that Derek likes, but they bond over the nostalgic films of the past, and Derek gives quick and dirty summaries of all the shitty books he’s read on long plane rides. If he exaggerates the inanity of some of the plots, well, it gets a laugh out of Dex, so whatever.

On not-so-good days, at least he has someone he can argue unapologetically with. Sometimes it's important stuff, because Dex is still very much a know-nothing white boy who doesn't understand what Derek goes through on a daily basis. And though Derek still doesn’t actually know much about Dex at all, he does know that Dex thinks he’s too damn rich to understand his hang-ups about buying nice but frivolous things, and dropping more than eight dollars on brunch. So they fight about these things sometimes, but because Derek can’t physically find his way back home without Dex’s assistance, it becomes a forced learning experience for the both of them, to learn to listen to one another without tussling like elementary-schoolers. It works more than it doesn’t, but they’re also both dumbass fifteen year olds who don’t know when to quit, so there are nights that Dex dumps Derek at the field without another word and Derek spends the next day moping in his bed, then moping in his hollow until one of them has enough guts to go and apologize.

And sometimes, their arguments are about whether the pet rock was the best cash grab of all time, or how much money it would have cost to fake the moon landing, or whether it’s a terrible idea for Derek to try a backflip on the ice.

What it comes down to is this: even when they fight, at least Derek feels alive. At least he knows the person he’s talking to cares, about something. They’re not always in sync about how they see the world, but Dex is real in a way the kids at Andover never are, and willing, in his mulish way, to consider Derek’s point of view after a shouting match. And, for all the faces and weird noises he makes, he’s a good listener. Derek practices his public speaking assignment on him and his oral presentation for Spanish; Dex claps in the right places and throws pebbles at him when he’s avoiding eye contact too much. He asks after Derek’s family and his team, and almost always remembers to ask Derek about his games. Derek thinks he probably follows Andover hockey more closely than Shitty’s parents do. Several invitations to their home games have been extended, but Dex always apologizes before turning them down.

Derek doesn’t put it into words until the day Dex sets him to work gathering herbs “for reasons” and they’re sitting in the dirt and fog picking through weeds and chirping each other about their bad hand-eye coordination. Derek has mist in his face and there’s soil caked under his nails from digging up tiny sprouts and silvery roots, but it’s been the best part of his day by far.

“How’d you get dirt on your nose?” Dex asks when Derek delivers another handful of shoots to him.

“Just living that natural life, Dexy.” Derek swipes at his face with the back of his hand, but from the look that crosses Dex’s face he’s not finding much success. He makes another attempt with the heel of his palm this time.

“No, you- there’s even more now,” Dex says irritably. He reaches up, as if to brush the smudge away himself, but aborts the motion halfway and digs him hand harder into the ground instead.

Derek grins, and tries again. “Did I get it?” he asks as he deliberately streaks dirt from the bridge of his nose across his cheek. The corner of Dex’s eye twitches as he fights with himself, until Derek slowly and deliberately digs up a solid handful of muck, ready to plaster it to his own face.

Dex dives for him as he brings his hand up in slow-motion, flattening him to the ground as they battle over Derek’s hand.

“You’re a literal child, I swear to god,” Dex hisses, wrestling Derek's arm in place long enough to smear most of the dirt off.

“Lots of adults enjoy the rejuvenating properties of a mud mask, bro.” Derek pats his cheeks gently with what's left of the soil on his hands, and offers the remainder to Dex. “Give it a try. Refreshed skin will bring out your freckles more.”

“Why would I ever want that.” Dex has to pin Derek’s arm down with his shoulder to protect his face.

“Seriously? People would kill for the Look you got going on, dude.” Dex’s eyes narrow when he hears the capital L, but Derek continues. “You're like a concept painting of autumn. All gold and red and orange.”

“What does that even mean, you weirdo?” Dex groans into the dirt as he rolls away from Derek, ending in a patch of brambly leaves that stick in his shirt.

“It means you’re beautiful inside and out. Own it.”

“Were you put on this earth to torment me?”

“Maybe! Aw, that's cute. Like we were made for each other.”

“What.”

“Well, like, if I exist just to annoy you, and you exist to be my bff, then it's kinda like we were made for each other, right?”

“Wait- are we even having the same conversation right now?” Dex asks, confused. He bounces up like a pop-up book insert to give Derek his classic squint of suspicion. “Who's what now?”

“You’re my best friend, Dex, is what I’m saying,” Derek tells him, smiling at him sideways from where he's still tipped over into the mud. This is what it should feel like, right? This comfortable, unfiltered ease that Derek has grown used to in Dex’s presence. No pretenses, no fear of letting his chill slip or his anger surge. Derek is Derek, and Dex, even with all his secrets, is Dex, and that's all they need.

“Oh. That’s not where I thought this was going. Are you sure?” Dex asks, scratching awkwardly at his hair tucked under his cap. He cut it recently, choppy and slightly uneven; Derek suspects he may have done it by hand himself. Hopefully not with the hatchet. He seems to be in disbelief, so Derek solves the problem the only way he knows how: by being extra annoying.

“No, actually, now that I think about it more, I don't know if I can be friends with someone who’s afraid of barbershop quartets.”

“Oh my god, I'm not afraid of them, I just think the striped vests are fuckin’ weird! And the hats, too, Jesus. It's creepy, okay?”

“You are legit the strangest dude I know. You scared of 90s boy bands too? Leather pants, frosted tips?”

Dex undergoes a deep, full body shudder of disgust, visibly trying to shake the memory off himself. “Quit it, Nursey-”

“Matching track suits! Bandanas and denim overalls!”

“I don't understand how the hell we’re still friends,” and Derek’s smile must be embarrassingly real, because Dex flushes that nice shade of red he gets when he's flustered but not angry, and half-heartedly gives Derek a “yeah, okay, me too,” which, in the current flow of the conversation is a non-sequitur, but Derek gets it.

When it draws close to six, Dex packs up his basket and walks Derek back out, even though Derek has got a pretty good handle on navigating the outer ring by now, where the forest isn't yet labyrinthine and dim. Like always, he halts at the edge, but this time, he stops Derek with a hand to his arm, his skin warm despite the biting coldness in the air.

Dex is about to say something, but Derek word vomits on him before he can speak up. “You wanna come visit my dorm? We could watch Netflix, eat stale pop tarts.” It's such a fantastic proposition that Derek is surprised Dex doesn't immediately begin heckling him.

“Sorry, but I, uh, also gotta get home. Besides, you know they'd never let me into your prep school dorm room. Blue collar cooties,” he says with the sort of uncasual shrug that says he's accepted long ago there are places he isn't meant to go.

“I can't believe you just used the word cooties in a sentence,” Derek says, trying to lighten the mood, because even he's more than willing to sneak Dex in, doesn't mean his friend wants to go. He probably wants to keep their lives compartmentalized. They can share the woods; everything else is off-limits. That's okay. Derek can handle that.

“Some of us have to make do with our dollar store vocabulary.”

“I didn't say I didn't like it. You have the best cooties,” Derek says solemnly and clasps Dex’s shoulder.

Dex shakes him off, but cracks a smile, so it's a solid win. “Shut your face, Nursey. You know I wouldn't fit in with those guys. You'll just have to bring your pop tarts here. Not the laptop though; electronics don't work right in the woods.”

Derek swallows thickly, suddenly overcome with this invitation. It's new. Dex almost always sees Derek off with a demand that he watch his back and stay in school, like some kind of twisted after-school special. He never makes any indication that he actually wants Derek to visit, though Derek’s learned enough of his tacit signs by now to know that Dex doesn't mind his company. “Yeah? What flavor?” he asks when he unties his tongue.

“Wild berry. Extra stale.”

“I'll open a pack and leave it in my math binder for a week.”

Dex must remember that Derek avoids even touching his math materials if he can, because he laughs, and gives Derek a little shove closer to the field. “I'm counting on it. Hey, we need to make some ground rules though.”

“Rules? Like the name prohibition.”

The first couple of times they ran into each other again Dex had reiterated the ironclad importance of Derek never, ever uttering his name while in the woods. Dex nods now, relieved that Derek’s been bludgeoned with that information until it stuck.

“Right. Never tell anyone your name; that’s the most important one. Rule number two: don't trust anyone you meet in the woods. Got it?”

“Uh, what's that supposed to mean? Didn’t I meet you in the woods?”

Dex makes a complicated face and a jerky, ambivalent motion with his hand that Derek does not understand at all. “There's just some strange people in here sometimes,” he says, still hedging around something. “Be wary around them. If they ever try to make you break rule number one, get the fuck outta there. Even if it’s me, okay?”

What? Why would Dex ever…”Okay? If you say so?” What’s Dex afraid of? Brainwashing? Doppelgangers? Clones??

“Promise me, Nursey,” Dex says intensely, gripping Derek’s elbow tight. “I might not always be around to watch out for you.”

Derek must look too hesitant still, because Dex pinches his arm and he lets out a yelp. “Alright, chill, Dex. I promise.” Then, narrowing his eyes, he ventures to ask, “Is this a cult thing? ‘Cause my parents know people. We can help.”

“It's not a cult thing. And if it were, it’s not like I’d admit it.”

“Hmmmm.” Derek looks around, giving the woods a leery once-over, before leaning in to hiss, “Blink twice if they’re watching us. Blink three times if they’re holding you against your will.”

Dex stares at him for a few seconds before blinking deliberately twice (!), then a few more times for a total of five. Derek’s brain flies into overdrive as he tries to decipher this. Is it five as in two plus three? Is he giving Derek a signal? Or is he just messing around?

While he dithers over this, Dex purses his lips and blows a sharp stream of air right into Derek’s eyes. He recoils, clutching at his face.

“Ow, what the fuck, Dex!”

“That’s enough cultist bs for one day. Time to go home, Nursey. Walk slowly; wouldn’t want you to trip on literally nothing again and ruin your pretty face, city boy.”

“Ha ha,” Derek grouses, still rubbing his eyes. He’s well aware of his bad skin and awkward legs. Dex doesn’t need to rub it in. “D’you practice those lines on the squirrels before you try them on people?”

“Don’t be dumb. You ever seen a squirrel around here?” Dex snipes back, but the corners of his eyes crease in a smile and he mutters, “I practice on the trees.”

Derek is still laughing as Dex shoves him out onto the field toward home.

[afoolforatook]

(So I already posted this but something happened and it didn’t actually post and I lost it. So hopefully I can remember everything...)

This is now officially one of my favorite panels of the entire series. Just look at all of them!!!

Lardo caught my eye first. She looks like she’s about to cry. (ALSO BABE ALERT HER HAIR IS PERFECTION PLEASE KILL ME LARISSA DUAN) Her mouth’s open in a smile cry and her eyebrows are so expressive. She’s like a big sister, so proud of Bitty (she always knew he could do it) but also sad and nervous. It’s kinda surreal, she couldn’t have asked for a better end of her time at Samewell but now it’s here, everything’s about to change. Didn’t she just meet Bitty in the kitchen, a sometimes shy, confused, closeted Freshman? And now he’s Captain!!!

Chowder just honestly looks like the definition of an gentleman. He’s so happy but calm (still a big kinda goofy grin though). He just looks so grown here. Like this is just a Good Man™. 

Nursey looks like he’s either starting to stand or sitting down after standing. That side smile, with just a little bit of teeth showing, his soft eyes. This is the world’s true Disney Prince.

DEX!!! Like look at this angry boy’s wonderful smile! His eyes are so soft and loving!!

Holster is the Proud Father, fist pumping and cheering way too loud, but it’s endearing. (Also at first I thought he was punching Dex’s ear???)

Ransom could take on the world right now. That’s his victory face, nothing can stop him and his team! That’s the reaction of a man who’s worked his ass off and is watching not only himself, but the people he cares about, succeed. That’s a man confident that his team will be alright without him. 

Ford... JUST FORD Y’ALL. She’s still so new but she just fits in so perfectly! And she’s so genuinely excited, because even in the short time she’s known all of them, she knows Bitty deserves this. And that he’s the right choice. I can only imagine the extra trust and cooperation a Captain and manager need to have to really work well together (I like to think that’s part of why Jack and Lardo are such good friends). But even though she might be a little out of her element, still getting adjusted, she knows that Bitty will help and support her so that she can thrive in her position and as a member of this team. 

TANGO IS AN ACTUAL ANGEL OK! Like this child is Pure! I reallly think he’s leaning in towards Whiskey and asking some cute/funny question about how things might change next year. Also, is he blushing??

Whiskey.... WhISKeY. That soft smile and eyes! He’s watching this teammate, who he’s come to trust and respect even though he didn’t take to him at first, who calls him Connor and gives him advice and acknowledges his talent, become his Captain. He’s really starting to feel like he belongs in this team.

And of course Ollie and Wicks!!! Bitty’s classmates, who’ve literally been there since he first stepped into the Haus (and will soon move in themselves). Fist bumping, all grown up but still them. 

And just... The only other person to have been unanimously chosen was Jack! This team, that Bitty once thought he might not be cut out for, just acknowledged his importance to them. And it could be easy to have have some self doubt when you’re so close to someone as talented and respected as Jack, I mean still in his rookie year and he’s got an A. It wouldn’t be surprising if Bitty saw Jack as being on this whole other level in the hockey world, far above himself. But his team just proved to him that he can be on par with Jack. He’s not just adjacent to greatness, he has it in himself. 

The only way this update could have been any better was in we’d seen Jack and Shitty’s reactions (and Suzanne and Coach and Tater and Bob and Alicia). Maybe in the notes??   🤞

[chaos-and-chill]

OH MY G O D, YES.

Strap in, darlings, we’re going for a RIDE.

Okay, I paid no attention to ship dynamics when casting this, but I think it works out pretty well!! Also I’m sorry that it’s so long, but I’m on mobile and can’t figure out how to actually get Tumblr to give me a read more.

Hamilton- Nursey. Writer, politically passionate, not very chill at all really, it just fits.

Burr- Dex. I cast him as Burr because of Wait For It and Your Obedient Servant, but think about how fun Aaron Burr, Sir would be with Dex and Nursey!!!

Eliza- Bitty. I put Bitty here because I needed someone to fill the slot and he doesn’t scream for any other roles to me, and I needed an Eliza, though now that I think about it, their vibes kinda match up. Also, Helpless?????? Very fun. He’d kill it.

Angelica- Chowder. Smart, take-no-prisoners, devoted to friends. Also, he and Nursey would portray the “you’re my biggest what-if and I still kind of love you, even after twenty years and even though it never would have worked out” dynamic really well.

Peggy/Maria Reynolds- Shitty. Why, you ask? I answer: because of the comedic potential and shenaniganary of Say No To This.

Washington- Jack. He’s a Dad™️, he’s an authority figure to most of the cast at some point, and he’d get waaaaaay into character.

Laurens/Philip- Tango. I originally thought that he’d end up being forced to play Philip by the upperclassmen, because none of them really wanted to die, be a child, then die AGAIN. Now, though, I think he could slay those roles.

Lafayette/Jefferson- Lardo. I just feel like she’s badass enough to be able to rap Guns And Ships??? Also, I think she’d have fun with What’d I Miss. She wouldn’t hesitate to sass the shit out of Nursey.

Hercules Mulligan/James Madison- Holster. This is the SINGULAR casting decision based on singing ability. Holster, canonically, can beatbox. At the very end of Aaron Burr, Sir, Hercules beatboxes. That’s it.

King George III- Ransom. The drama! The elegance! The sheer power! He’d ham it up and get the crowd going.

George Eacker/Charles Lee- Ollie. We don’t know much about him? But his face makes him seem as though he’s very deadpan in his humor and kind of serious in his personality. I think he could bring something good to each of these roles. Also, as far as I know, these roles aren’t actually double cast?? But there is definitely enough time for him to change costumes and whatnot between his songs, especially if costuming uses the same, like, shirt and pants and only switches out outerwear/accessories.

Samuel Seabury/James Reynolds/The Doctors at the Duels- Wicks. Again, we don’t know much, but he seems pretty bubbly and outgoing? Rather optimistic. I think him as Seabury would be fun, and then I needed a filler for the other characters.

So, yeah!! These are some of my thoughts, but I also want to know yours!

y’all imagine ford getting all of smh to recreate hamilton. who’s cast as who? 👀

[toddsfall]

I get caught up, just for a minute

Written for day 4 of Nurseydex week: headcanon for sexuality/gender

summary: Ransom dares Dex to make a Tinder account.

read on ao3

It was all the fault of Lardo's tub juice, Dex thought, for getting them all tipsy enough to think this was a good idea. Or really, it's Ransom's fault for making the dare.

If he was honest, he knew he didn't have anyone to blame but himself.

The night had been going well, they were all enjoying themselves. They had played some Mario Kart earlier, chirping each other half to death. It had developed into them talking about anything and everything. It was nice. Dex had felt relaxed. For once, he let his walls down a bit. He didn't need to be on his guard, these were his best friends.

He'd been slumped against Chowder, buzzed enough to be giggling at his friend's stupid jokes.

"Hey Dex? Do you know what Jack Zimmerman's biggest asset is?"

"Is it his butt?"

Chowder snorted. And cried "It is! It is!" After which he dissolved into laughter.

Their laughter was interrupted when Holster suddenly yelled. "Bros! You know what would be so fun? Truth or dare!"

Dex groaned, he didn't have the best experience with the game in high school. It had involved shaving cream and a pb&j sandwich. But all around him people were cheering, so they decided to play.

By the time someone got to Dex, two people had already kissed; one prank phone call had been made and at least three body parts had touched the couch that never should have touched the couch. Bitty looked very concerned.

Ransom turned to Dex, the glee evident in his eyes. "Dex, my freckliest bro, do you have a Tinder account?"

Without thinking, Dex answered with a frown. "Of course not." Which of course, had earned him some sniggers. Whatever, he knew they thought he was just uptight. He just knew that an app like Tinder would never work for him. Or, well. Maybe it could. But as far as he knew, Tinder was for people who were looking for fast hookups. That would just never be something he'd be into. Still, he could humor his teammates for a game. He tried to school his face in a more pleasant expression, he wasn't sure he succeeded. "But I could always make one."

"You read my mind, bro. Let's go." Ransom smiled brilliantly at him. It was the sort of smile that had made many a people weak in the knees.

Dex whipped out his phone and moved closer to Ransom, who was sitting in front of the couch. Everyone moved closer to see better. Once he had installed the app, people started shouting suggestions for things to put in his profile.

"Oooh, we should put something totally ridiculous in your info bro. It'll be hilarious!" Holster shouted.

"What about: Swipe right if you want to find out if I'm ginger upstairs and downstairs." Ollie said. And add lots of winky faces." Wicks added.

Lardo offered. "Or: sadly, all our dates will have to be inside because I will literally burn up in the sun."

"Oh, that's a good one. Put that in." Ransom decided. And since it was his dare, Dex agreed.

"Now we have to choose the pictures. I don't have many selfies so I don't know what to put here." Dex said, frowning at his phone.

"Don't worry, bro. I got you. Go to your Facebook pictures, I tagged you in a bunch I took at the last kegster." Nursey chimed in, all too eager to contribute. Dex started, he hadn't noticed Nursey coming to sit behind him. His face was so close to him that he felt his breath against his ear. Fuck. The other reason he would never sign up to Tinder was, of course, because of his massive crush for his roommate. It had snuck up on him. It wasn't until about a month ago, when Nursey had spilled an entire bowl of cereal down the front of his shirt, and Dex had thought damn he's adorable, I could kiss him that he'd realized how deep he was in.

After selecting all Ransom-approved pictures, some a bit funny and blurry but most of them actually pretty decent, Dex went to choose the settings for which people he wanted to date. He chose people close-by and close to his age. He selected the option to date 'women' and his finger hovered over the 'men' option for a second longer, before he thought 'fuck it' and he selected it. He felt Ransom squeeze his leg once before turning to him and smiling.

"Bro, you don't have to do that." He turned his head, Nursey was scowling at him. "I mean, I guess you could but it's fine if you just select girls."

"I thought the point of this was to make a Tinder profile for me? Well, realistically that would mean girls and boys Nurse." He added the last part more forcefully than he meant to.

"Oh." Nursey was avoiding his eyes. "Sorry."

"It's okay, Nursey." Dex added, trying to lighten the mood again. "I'm guessing you would add boys and girls too right?"

"Tcheah, you know I'm pan bro. I'm just sad there aren't more options to add, to be honest."

"We'll have to tell Shitty, I'm sure he'll send a strong letter to the good people of Tinder if you let him know."

"Oh yeah, for sure." Nursey was smiling again, so Dex figured they were okay.

"Okay, well. Now comes the fun part!" Ransom shouted.

And thus the game of Truth or Dare dissolved into a shallow game of 'Swipe left or right?' with the Samwell Men's Hockey Team. It was an illuminating experience. Dex never knew how differing tastes could be until he had a ten minute argument with Holster over a cute pink-haired girl who was majoring in bio med.

After, when they'd exhausted all of Dex's swiping options for the night, the party had started to dissolve. People were getting pretty tired. Nursey and Dex left a tipsy Chowder to crawl in his bed, after promising him that they wouldn't tell Cait that he'd looked appreciatively at other girls tonight. Dex thought it was pretty funny. He had snapchatted Charmer halfway in the game to let her in on what they were doing. She'd answered ooooh fun, I've done this with the girls before. can't wait to tease c about this so he figured she was okay with it.

He left the house with Nursey. Even though they'd smiled at each other and made that joke about Shitty, Nursey still hadn't quite looked him in the eyes for the rest of the night. Dex wondered if he had somehow been too obvious. Maybe he'd held Nursey's gaze too long at some point? Or he could have done a million other things that gave Nursey a clue about what was going on. It's not like he'd been very careful tonight. Dammit, why had he drank so much tub juice.

Eventually, when they had walked in silence till the end of the street, Dex spoke up. "Hey Nursey, are we okay?"

Nursey blinked and looked and finally looked at him. "Yeah dude. Why do you ask?"

"You haven't really, uhm, looked at me much tonight?" Suddenly, Dex felt ridiculous for bringing it up. Who even noticed how many times his friend looked at him?

Nursey looked away again. His eyebrows were pulled down in a frown. "Oh, have I? That's uh.. Nah.. I mean, it's chill."

"You don't sound so chill." Dex huffed. Seriously, even if he had been too obvious, Nursey could at least talk to him about it.

Without a warning, Nursey suddenly stopped walking. "Okay, maybe I'm not so chill. I'm sorry. You just caught me off guard a bit."

Now it was Dex's turn to frown. "What did I do? Was I being too obvious? I'll stop, I promise. Just. Please look at me." He grabbed Nursey's hand, tugging him towards him.

"I'm so confused. Too obvious? What are you talking about? I was just surprised that you were into dudes too."

"Oh, well then never mind." Dex started to turn around, but Nursey squeezed his hand and pulled him closer.

"No, tell me. Please." He was now looking directly at Dex. There was so much emotion in his eyes that Dex felt like he was under a spell.

"I... I..." He blew out a breath. "I thought I was being too obvious because..." He couldn't do it. He dropped his gaze, focusing on this really interesting patch of grass at his feet.

Nursey, ever so gently, put his hand on his chin so he could lift his face back up. When had he gotten this close? "Tell me."

"Because I have this big, massive crush on you and I don't think it's going away anytime soon." Dex wanted to squirm away again, but Nursey held his face firmly.

"Oh thank god."

It was all the warning Dex got before Nursey put his other hand on his cheek, tilted his face for a better angle, and kissed him. Nursey's lips were warm and wet against his. They felt so soft and Dex melted against them. He grabbed at Nursey's shoulder to pull him even closer. Once they were flush together, Dex deepened the kiss. It wasn't harsh, there was no bite to the kiss. But it wasn't tame either. The kiss was hot, a little messy and entirely them. It made him flush all over.

He pulled back when he felt like he was going to spontaneously combust on the spot, taking a gulping breath. Dex's lips were starting to feel a bit bruised  He put his forehead against Nursey's. "That was fun."

Nursey nuzzled his cheek, his hand going up to softly stroke his hair. He kissed him again, and Dex felt rather than saw him smile against him. "Yeah. It was."