#kinda polyfrogs i guess

[nursey-nursey-please]

world's okayest

It’s a bad night. Nursey can feel it looming in the air around him. The kind of all consuming heaviness he thought he was used to. He always thinks he can anticipate it, somehow predict the swinging pendulum of emotion like it’s a regular thing. Maybe it would be easier if he cared enough to monitor it. But it lies under the surface so often, a disquieting murmur in the back of his brain. He wonders vaguely if he should get this checked out, if he can every get up again. He knows objectively that he’ll probably be able to stand at some point but the task seems so monumental in this moment, as he rolls over to face the wall. “What the fuck, Nursey?” He hears, far away. It reminds him of the beach house his parents own in cape cod, the distant crash of waves on the rocky beach from his bedroom. He sees the light turn on in the back of his eyelids, the sudden, spotty bursts of light that make him wince. “Why are you in my bunk?” The disjointed voice appears closer than before, familiar in a non distinct type of way. Nursey clears his throat, the cottony feeling lingering in the back of his mouth, “Sorry.” He cracks open an eye, watches himself be moved before he feels it. “Nursey? Are you sick, dude?” Dex’s voice is horrible, jarring, and Nursey hates it, hates sharing a room with the world’s loudest, meanest boy, hates showing him this. “I’m chill,” Nursey says automatically, a refrain that keeps him from thinking too much about it. “Uh… shit. Okay, hold on-” Dex says, his footsteps fading rapidly. He also turns the light off, which Nursey thinks is nice of him.

Some time later, Nursey’s not sure when, something that smells like lemongrass and mint weighs down his bed, dipping right behind his back. “Is it okay if I touch you, Nursey?” It’s close, but not unbearable. Chowder’s voice is soft. It makes Nursey’s stomach feel vaguely better, if a sound can do that. “No,” Nursey whispers, and Chowder says, “Ok. Is it okay if I’m here?” “Yeah.” “Cool.” Chowder says. Nursey doesn’t hear much else after that. But somehow, his presence is comforting. Nursey shuffles a little, “You can lay down if you want,” he mutters, finally, after awhile of thinking it. Chowder does it, his head right next to Nursey’s on a bed that feels endless. Nursey scoots down slightly, turning over onto his side. Chowder moves his arm slowly, up underneath the pillow Nursey’s head is on. “Is that okay?” Chowder murmurs, and Nursey nods. He ends up moving in closer, close enough that he can feel Chowder breathing on his forehead. It’s warm, and he’s sweating, but he hates the alternative way more. “Yeah, C. It’s the okayest.” Nursey mumbles, and Chowder presses his lips to Nursey’s forehead, his smile imprinted on Nursey’s skin. - (Nursey wakes up in the morning draped over Chowder, with a surprise Dex squeezed in between the wall and Nursey’s back. When Nursey asks him about it, Dex says, embarrassed, “It’s my fucking bed, Nursey. It’s not fair that everyone gets to sleep in it but me.”)

[petitloup]

shovel talk

DAY SOMETHING! 6? PROBABLY 6. this is here for @geniusorinsanity who requested this ages ago as a follow up ficlet for my longer fic, these things are how you make me feel. Get ready for Chowder going goalie on Dex’s ass!

(If you haven’t already read these things I would highly suggest doing that before reading this!))

Will is terrified from the moment Chris opens his mouth. Chowder’s not a huge guy – around Will’s height, built of lean muscle like so many of the best goalies are. But with Chowder’s fingers digging into his shoulder, pressing hard, forcing the bones to creak slightly apart, he is incredibly aware he has not been working out as much has he should be.

And then he has to watch him wrap those strong hands around Derek, and give him a kiss that shows just how well acquainted he is with kissing him. He can’t help the grimace, but tries to school it into something respectful and understanding by the time Chowder turns around again. By the look on his face, he’s fairly certain he failed.

Chowder leads him downstairs, through the house, in utter silence. When they reach the back door, Will is absolutely certain he’s about to be shouted at, so he braces himself as Chowder pushes him down into a seat and takes the one closest – directly across from him – and sits back with one leg crossed over the other. The picture of cool assessment.

“So,” Chowder says, sounding unimpressed. “Explain.”

Will takes a shaky breath, and his hands ball up on his knees. “I really am so, so sorry, man,” he says, not meeting Chowder’s eyes. “I know you – you probably didn’t know about me before this, and I–”

“You’re right,” Chowder interrupts, and Will regrets meeting his gaze because it is all NHL Goalie. “I hadn’t heard of you before this morning, actually. I probably would have heard about you last night,” he shrugs, twisting the knife, “but Derek spent most of the night sobbing into my shirt, and I figured I would let him do that first. I didn’t realize it would take so long for him to cry himself out, but then, I know more now.”

Will can feel his heart fucking shattering in his chest. It’s all he ever seems to do, come into Derek’s life to fuck it up, to hurt him. It’s what he swore he would never do, and then once they’d broken up – what he swore he’d never do again. He’d kept his distance for a reason. He knew how much he had hurt him, knew he had taken away the future Derek had been dreaming about.

It was the thought that he couldn’t let go of for the last almost-four-years. He had ruined the best thing he’d ever had, that he’d irreparably hurt the person he wanted to marry, the person that he would never stop loving – and the person who could do so much better than the absolute shit Will had handed him. That wasn’t a stupid, self-pitying, compliment-fishing thought, either. It was just a fact. Derek deserved better. And Will had very conflicted feelings about his relationship with Chowder. A deep release of fear, so relieved that Derek found someone who was treating him better than Will had; burning jealousy that he wasn’t the one kissing Derek, too, and giving him all the things he should have; the ache in his chest that had literally never gone away since he walked out.

Picturing Derek, his Derek, curled into Chowder’s chest crying for hours again over something Will had done was like a physical blow. Will scrubs at his face, trying to erase the mental image. When he glances up, Chowder’s face is impassive and cold. He clearly meant for Will to picture that.

“Yeah,” Will says, his voice hoarse. He laughs a little, an unhappy sound. “Yeah.”

“No offense,” Chowder says, “but you seriously fucked him up all those years ago.”

Will closes his eyes and nods. “I know. I know I did. I can’t tell you how much I regret it.”

“So you admit you still have feelings for him?” Chowder asks, and Will’s eyes flash open, panicked.

“What? No, I don’t—”

“So you’re saying you don’t care about Derek at all anymore? That his health and happiness don’t matter to you?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I just don’t—”

“You don’t what? Because from where I’m standing, either you still have feelings for him and by acting on them you hurt him, again, or you don’t care about his health and happiness at all and were willing to risk damaging or ruining his serious relationship for a quick fuck you didn’t actually mean.”

Will is stunned into silence.

“Chris—”

“No, you listen to me. Derek’s been through a lot since you and him. I was there for most of it. And I love him, I do. I can’t say we’ll last, as a couple,” he shrugs, like it’s not the most frightening thing he’s said to Will today, “but I love him. I want his health and happiness, no matter what our relationship status is. So you are going to promise me that you are never going to do that to him again. Do you understand me?”

Will nods, mute.

“Good. I respect Derek’s decision not to tell me about you. I don’t know why he didn’t. Maybe because he was too hurt. Maybe because he got over you and it just stopped mattering.” Chowder’s mouth twitches slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. When he gives in, it spreads wide across his mouth. His teeth are straight and bright white – except for the slightly lower set canines, which make the smile look more menacing than it should. Almost shark-like.

“I…” Will starts, and clears his throat. “I do love him,” he says quietly. “I’ve loved him since we were stupid 18-year-olds. But I promise, I swear, I won’t do anything to get in the way again. I know I fucked this up, but don’t – don’t break up with him because of me. That would kill him, he’s so happy with you right now, and I. I really am so, so sorry.”

“You owe him a lot of apologies,” Chris says, leaning forward with narrowed eyes, and Will swallows hard. This bubbly human, the sweet, excitable Chowder who swung Cait around and cuddled Derek and was always laughing with Jack, was utterly, mind-blowingly terrifying.  “You owe him a lot of apologies and I think today would be a good day to do it,” he suggests, but it’s not a suggestion. “That way, in the worst case scenario, I can take Derek home, and I will help him forget you ever existed. Or find some way to distract him, until the time comes for us to break up too.”

Will is not sure how to feel anymore. On one hand, his ears are perked up at hearing that they aren’t necessarily together forever. On the other, he’s beating himself into silence as his horror grows – that Derek is dating someone who may not be as serious about him as Derek seems to be. That for all he’s being treated well, Derek is dating someone who could possibly even consider breaking up with him. Like he would even be able to find someone better.

“But – you’re not– ”

“What me and Derek do is none of your business,” Chowder’s tone is cool, and Will feels reprimanded. Chowder’s tone becomes more animated, then, and leaning forward in his chair he says, “but you should know—”

The glass doors slide open, and Will doesn’t get to hear what Chowder thinks he should know, because there’s Derek standing in the doorway, and Will almost has a heart attack.

It’s Derek in his favorite way. Shower-soft, skin smooth and hydrated, still slightly damp, with a towel tied firmly around his waist. He probably smells warm and inviting. He assumes so, since his own damn daughter – tiny, adorable traitor that she is – has her arms around his neck and her face against his collarbones and is blinking sleepily at him.

He wishes he was her for just a moment, and then he stands as Derek starts telling him about how she wandered into his room. Tiny little monster.

Will takes her from him, fingers brushing his skin and confirming that yep, Derek still feels every bit as good as he ever did. He’s whispering things to his daughter, telling her he loves her like he does every morning, how much he’s always loved her, all the things he never heard from his parents and swore he would do for his own kids. Derek turns around abruptly and walks out, and Will can’t blame him.

He watches Chowder follow Derek out, and nods a little when Chris shoots him a significant look over Isa’s head. He’ll talk to Derek today – apologize properly. Maybe it will give them both some closure, even if only one of them really needs it.

[zimmerdouche]

Would You Rather?

Polyfrogs completed for @swawesomesanta!

Read it on AO3!

It all started with ‘would you rather discover a person in your attic or 1000 roaches?’

The resulting argument continued for weeks, and it got Nursey interested in deciding on the worst possible scenarios for Samwell Men’s Hockey to decide between. It continues almost two years later, when Nursey and Dex finally moved into the Hockey Haus, and into the beginning of their junior year.

“Okay, Frogs, here’s a would you rather-”

“Jesus Christ, Nursey, let it GO,” Dex says, slamming his fingers onto the keyboard in front of him.

“No, no, listen.” Nursey plops down next to him on the green couch. “Would you rather eat moldy fish stew or have chili powder thrown in your eyes?

Dex stretches his arms high and breathes deeply in an attempt to not only loosen some of the pressure of his binder but give himself some time to think. “Uh, chili powder, easy.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Chowder says, incredulous. “Have you ever had chili powder near your eyes?”

“No, but have you ever had food poisoning from mold? My family business is fish, Chowder, I know how that works. Moldy fish stew will kill you and cause lasting pain, not in that order. At least chili powder in the eyes will eventually stop hurting, or you can flush it out.”

“You know, I was leaning toward the stew, but I think Dex has convinced me.” Nursey pulls his legs onto the couch and sits cross legged. “Even if I’m blind, at least I won’t be dead.”

Chowder lets out a disgruntled noise. “I guess you’re right. I’m not happy that the reason you two finally agree with each other is to be against me, though.”

Nursey flashes a shit eating grin and a wink at Dex, much to his mortification.

_X_

He continues his obsession well into the school year. Thanksgiving break, as the team is recovering from their post meal coma, he breaks out a doozy.

“Listen up, guys. You’re starting game seven of the Stanley Cup Final. Would you rather play the game wearing nothing but your skates, or play fully clothed with absolutely uncontrollable diarrhea?”

“Oh, fuck, Nursey, why are you coming for me like this?” Ollie whines, his feet in Wicky’s lap. “You know I’d play the final naked, no fucking question.”

Wicky nods sagely. “Bro, it’s just more sanitary. I’d rather have to avoid a check than feel shit running down my leg for over an hour.”

The entire room nods and chimes in their agreement, except for Dex, who stares at the floor in intense concentration. “Hey, Nurse.”

“Sup.”

“Would ‘nothing but skates’ mean that I can’t wear my binder?”

An awkward silence falls over the group as Nursey screws up his face in thought. “I don’t think-”

“Nothing but skates means nothing but skates, bro,” Ollie points out. “A binder is made of fabric, yeah? That counts as clothing.”

“Shut the fuck up, O’Meara,” Nursey says, deadpan. “Binder counts as part of the body. I create the question, I create the limitations. Binder is in.”

“Honestly, Ollie,” Chowder huffs.

Dex tunes out Ollie’s apology in favor of staring at Nursey, who is pointedly avoiding eye contact and picking at his nails. Chowder sits next to Dex and rests one hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Nurse?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

_X_

Nursey doesn’t ask Dex another would you rather question until the week before finals.

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Is it what I think it is?” Dex calls down from the top bunk, refusing to tear his eyes from the physics textbook he’s been staring at for the past hour.

“Mmm. Yeah.” Nursey turns a page in his own book and types a few words for the essay he’s been referencing.

Dex sighs. “Go for it, I guess.”

The bunk bed creaks and Nursey’s eyes and forehead appear over the edge of the bed. “Would you rather kiss the person you hate the most or punch the person you love the most?”

Dex glances up and meets Nursey’s gaze, unwavering. “Mm. Deep. Poetic, almost.”

Nursey rolls his eyes. “Ha ha,” he says, standing taller to have more of his face appear. “But really.”

Dex puts his reading to the side and adjusts so that his face is mere inches from Nursey’s. “But here’s the thing, Derek.” Nursey gulps loudly and his cheeks darken. “What if they’re the same person?”

“Obviously, the solution here is to kiss your fist and just. Deck ‘em. Destroy them with your lips AND your fist, William.”

Dex chuckles. “Kinky.”

“What do you choose?” Nursey keeps eye contact.

“I’d rather kiss the person I hate, because I also love them. Uh, him. And punching him would be kind of a dick move, y’know?”

Nursey leans toward him. “Agreed. And I would, uh. I’d go for it. As soon as possible. If I were maybe, deciding, in the moment, whether or not to make a move-”

Dex closes the space between them and sinks forward as far as he can without falling off the bunk.

When they finally break apart, Nursey’s eyes are sparkling. “So, uh, you love me? And hate me?”

“I love and hate the way you drive me up the fucking wall.”

“Same here, Dex. And you know what? It’s driving me up the wall that you’re on the top bunk and I’m not, so…”

“I’ll come to the bottom bunk to finish my physics while you finish your paper, Nursey, yes.”

“Chill.”

_X_

After winter break, Nursey is fully back on his “would you rather” bullshit.

“All right, C, here’s a question for you.”

Chowder groans and runs his hands through his hair. “If you asked me this before break while I was writing my final paper, I think I might have actually murdered you.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t,” Dex says, shooting a wink in Nursey’s direction. He lets out a slow exhale in response, scratching his forehead in an attempt to cover his blush. “He was asking me questions all week.”

“Oh my god, I am so sorry.”

“It worked itself out,” Dex says with a grin.

Nursey coughs to try to hide his chuckle, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Chowder. “What did you two do?”

“I’ll tell you later. Here’s my question. Who would you rather fuck: me, or Dex?”

Dex chokes at the same time Chowder speaks. “What the hell kind of question is that, Nursey?”

“A valid one. Make your decision, Chow.”

Chowder scrunches his nose in thought. “Okay, well, both of you are equally physically attractive-” Dex scoffs. “Shut up, Dex, you’re hot. You’ve got this boy next door vibe that I’m kinda into.”

“I feel like you’d lay me down in the back of your pickup truck and then tell me about your dreams to get out of this damn town and move to the big city. And like, you’re a handyman, and competency is pretty damn hot.”

Nursey laughs out loud as Dex feels his blush creep down the back of his neck. “Don’t laugh, Nurse, I’m coming for you next. You’ve got these model good looks, right? I feel like you could take me around the world and show me sights I never thought I would experience.”

Dex snorts and Nursey continues chuckling. “But I think under the chill and indifferent exterior, that I totally see through by the way, you absolute fucking dork, you’re super attentive and you’d totally do whatever you had to to make me feel comfortable.”

Chowder stops and looks at the ceiling. “I have to choose one?”

Nursey slides in next to Chowder. “Implying you want to fuck us both?”

“Hell yeah! I’d fuck you both. You’re my best friends, you’re both physically attractive, why wouldn’t I?” He flashes a grin at both men in the room. “Oh wow, um, Dex? Your eyes are super big.”

Nursey barks out a laugh and Dex turns even more red than he thought he could. “I feel like I’m in high school again.”

“Are you saying you like like us, Chowder?” Nursey croons.

“Yep.”

Dex joins Nursey and Chowder on the couch, unceremoniously laying across both of their laps. “Well, that was easy.”

“What do you mean easy?” Chowder raises an eyebrow.

“I genuinely thought we’d be tiptoeing around this for months.” Dex stretches out and wiggles his fingers. “The fact that it’s out now made this easy.”

Nursey grabs Chowder’s hand and kisses the knuckles. “Movie night?”

“Hot Rod?”

“Oh, hell yes.”

[petitloup]

@geniusorinsanity​ tagged me in this meme yesterday and all their answers were super cute so I’m gonna do it.  okay, let’s go.

1) How many works in progress to do you currently have in progress?

Oh god, so many. Unfinished list I can think of off the top of my head include:

 two original things I’ve been working on

Demi Nurse sequel I should have finished ages ago

FIREFLIES 

a couple polyfrogs ficlets

nurseydex sweater weather fic

12 days of christmas CP fics of assorted pairings (and I am taking requests for that)

Kent Parson x Tater fic for @darling-violet​ 

MY PHD PROPOSALS HAHAHAHAHA

There’s other stuff but this is the primary

2) Do you/would you write fan fiction?

/snerks

3) Do you prefer paper books or ebooks?

Paper in every way. I am definitely one of those people who HEAVILY annotates the margins of their books - please don’t murder me for it. I just love it because it makes those books really YOURS, it allows you to show your mental work and leave behind thoughts that you can revisit later! 

4) When did you start writing?

I mean I have no memory, but easily before I knew how to spell. I was very dedicated to phonetics as a kid. If I couldn’t spell it, I’d make it work. 

5) Do you have someone you trust that you share your work with?

Ehhhhhh not really. I bounce ideas off of @randomnoteforfuturereference​, @darling-violet​ and @angeryginger​ sometimes, but honestly most of the time I am too shocked by how terrible I think its going to be that I can’t bring myself to tell anyone about it until it’s done. And then my “fuck it, I’mma post it anyways” attitude shows up, and here we are. 

6) Where is your favorite place to write?

My bed, really late at night when I should be sleeping. 

7) Favourite childhood book?

My parents read us the Iliad and the Odyssey as bedtime stories when I was like 3 and 4, and those were definitely my favorites. My elementary school teachers were a little surprised by how much I enjoyed drawing trojans. 

8) Writing for fun or writing for publication?

I mean I have published a couple of short things but mostly writing for fun. Is it bad if I saw I want to write for publication for Real at some point? #lifedreams

9) Pen and paper or computer?

Oh computer for sure. I can type as fast as I can think so it helps me get around the “wow all of this is shit” mentality I get when I think too hard about my own writing. Pen and paper are exclusively what I use to plan fics out because I need to be able to think clearly and have a visual of what the timeline is etc. 

10) Have you ever taken any writing classes?

yuuuuuup. Quite a few.

11) What inspires you to write?

I actually completely agree with shelly on this one. It’s not that I have inspiration, I RARELY feel *inspired* to write. But life is a lot and I just can’t stop writing - its necessary, its the best outlet I have. In a world where I work 75 hours a week and I’m trying for a phd and my financial security is always in question, writing is the only thing I have that’s like letting out some of the building pressure. That’s why I’m a binge writer! I write in huge chunks because I can’t stop it and then I kinda collapse for a bit. Catharsis, I guess.

I’m not gonna tag others in this BUT I WANNA READ SOME SO DO IT DO IT DO IT!!