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treasure

Sunlight crept softly through the open window, lighting up a piece of dust that twirled and jumped through the early morning air above the bed. Eyelids still sleep-heavy, Will watched idly as the speck descended like an erratic parachuter. It had almost made it to the duvet when Derek’s exhale blew it suddenly out of the sunbeam’s reach. Will searched for it lazily for a moment, but it was a lost cause.

His eyes flickered back up to Derek’s face. Dark stubble poked out roughly from smooth skin; it’s Saturday, he’ll probably shave today, Will thought, and then he wondered when he’d memorized his routine. He reached up and ran a thumb along a cheekbone. The thing about Derek’s face was that it was always so…engaged. At least when he was awake, anyway. Even when he wasn’t talking, there was always a quirk of his mouth that suggested there was something he was about to say, a look in his eyes or a tilt of his head that made you feel like he was trying to figure you out. But now his eyes were closed, his lips slack and parted. His chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm. It was rare to see Derek at peace. Will counted himself lucky for it. He hoarded these moments in his memories like precious jewels. He had been getting so many of them lately, he was starting to feel selfish. Sometimes he still had trouble believing that he was the one that Derek had chosen to let himself be vulnerable in front of, that he got to have these tiny fractions of time that were so goddamn beautiful. Derek’s eyes flickered open weakly as he glanced over at Will, then fell shut again as he readjusted in bed. “What’re you lookin’ at?” he mumbled softly. Will leaned over and pressed a kiss gently to his forehead. “Nothing.”

[zimmerbabe]

it is NOT safe to say that,,,,,,, but it is the truth

look at his ARMS holy fuck

[zimmerbabe]

Could I please put a request in for Holsom and celebrity :)

Wordcount: ~1500Rating: GSummary: Ransom has a teeny tiny crush on Adam Birkholz. To be fair though, who doesn’t have a crush on a movie star? Besides, the chances he has of ever meeting the man are slim at best - at least they are until it’s announced they’re filming his next movie in the town next door to Ransom’s…  A/N: Thanks so much for the prompt! I hope you enjoy it :)

When Justin found out they’d be filming the new Adam Birkholz movie in a town twenty minutes from where he lived, he’d calculated the statistical probability he had of meeting the man. It was unlikely. When he found out there was an open casting call for local extras his chances expanded exponentially.

Which was how he ended up in a coffee shop turned set, less than five minutes away from meeting his celebrity crush. They’d told him to act natural, take occasional sips of coffee, talk to his seatmate - the mic wouldn’t pick up what they were saying anyway, ignore the cameras and the funny, kind, beautiful faced man who’d be walking through the door.

He was seated with a guy named Bitty, and once the director called for action they began making smalltalk. It took literally every ounce of willpower he had not to look out the window and watch for Holster’s approach. He did turn his head when Adam walked in, but Ransom wasn’t even thinking about the movie anymore. Holster’s gaze roved the coffee shop, stuttering on Ransom imperceptibly enough that he may have imagined it, before he made his way to the counter to place his order. Bitty tapped Ransom’s arm gently, bringing his gaze away from the movie star less than ten feet from him.

“You might want to close your mouth hon,” he said with a consolatory pat on the wrist.

Ransom felt his face heat. He needed to pull himself together if he didn’t want to get himself kicked off set. He was doing an admirable job of focusing when Holster walked by and tripped over nothing, crashing into Ransom. Adam’s elbow was jammed into his ribs and his head knocked into Justin’s chin hard enough to bruise. It was the best six point four seconds of his life.

“Oh my god,” Holster said, getting up off Ransom’s lap. “I’m so sorry bro.”

Bro Adam Birkholz just called him bro. “It’s fine,” Ransom said, voice only just barely squeaking. “No harm done.” Luckily the coffee cup he’d been holding was filled with water so he was only slightly damp instead of burnt and sticky.

“I’m Holster,” he said, stretching out a hand.

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the closet story redux

(based on a post I made earlier)

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Whiskey said as Bitty approached. Though it was early October, the day was chilly. Bitty tucked his brown pea coat around him tighter, wishing he’d worn a sweater instead of his (Jack’s) flannel shirt.

“Of course,” Bitty said easily, sitting down on the bench and following Whiskey’s gaze across the river. People were milling past, a jogger weaving through the throngs of students. They sat in silence for a minute, until Whiskey finally took a deep breath and spoke.

“I, uh.” He fidgeted in his seat, standing abruptly so he could pace in front of Bitty. Bitty sucked on his bottom lip, half in amusement, half in anxiety, wondering just what Whiskey wanted to talk about.

(He had an idea – a small, tenuous idea. Bitty had watched Whiskey from the moment he’d walked into orientation. The way he held himself, the way he dressed and styled his hair, it all pinged something at the back of Bitty’s mind. But knowing Whiskey, he was this nervous because he wanted to ask Jack about weight training or thought Bitty could get him an in with George.)

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Since its been confirmed that nursey says things like "hashtag grumpy" that dex sometimes gets fed up and responds with things like "pound sign stop it"???

“So what, you just, like, pretend to be inept at technology?” Dex asks, eyes wide.

“Yep,” Jack nods.

“Well I can’t exactly do that. People kind of expect CompSci majors to… know how computers work,” Dex says.

“Do they expect CompSci majors to know how social media works, though?” Jack questions.

“Oh shit,” Dex laughs. “Oh shit, Nursey’s gonna go ballistic.”

“Ooooh, hashtag grumpy,” Nursey grins.

Dex immediately looks over at Jack, who smiles almost imperceptibly and gives him a stern nod.

“Pound sign stop it, Nurse,” Dex deadpans.

The way Nursey chokes on his next inhale is so satisfying Dex nearly throws himself across the room to fistbump Jack.

[zimmerbabe]

in which jack does not, in fact, go into the NHL

AN: the sequel to this piece.  TW: Suicidal thoughts, career changes, hard conversations.

When the confetti rained down in the other team’s colors, Jack felt a cold wave of numbness wash over him.

I don’t want to be alive anymore, he thought, chest tightening with shame and fear. I want to die.

A pause. A breath.

Oh.

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always on my mind

Derek had a completely normal childhood.

He spent his first few months of kindergarten playing with a ginger-haired boy named Will. Will was awesome, he liked hockey as much as Derek did and knew all the presidents’ names and his favorite color was green. Derek remembers this. He remembers Will. He remembers Will being real.

Never mind that, after months of raving about his new best friend, his parents ended up slipping his name into their parent-teacher conference only for his teacher to say that there was no redhead named Will in his class.

Never mind that his parents spent weeks prodding Derek to find out who this Will was.

Never mind that they ultimately decided that Will was his imaginary friend.

Soon, Will started showing up at Derek’s house, when he was alone in his room. He was just a kid. He didn’t question it.

Will kept coming around – sitting next to him in class, in the corner reading with him at recess, playing card games with him after school, helping him with his math homework – far after his parents deemed it acceptable to have an imaginary friend.

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[nurseydex] oh my god they were roommates

for @checkplease100 prompt #20: Share this is my first time writing fic in,,, forever

—

“Look, man,” Dex said as he stumbled into the Haus, arms full with grocery bags. “I didn’t expect this to happen.”

“Psh, no one did,” Nursey replied, arms equally full. “But I don’t know why you’re so freaked.”

Dex set the bags down on the countertop, then braced his hands on it and turned towards Nursey.

“Nurse—” he broke off. “Derek, I don’t think I could do this as just roommates.”

Nursey inched closer to Dex, and slowly put his hand over the one closest.

“Y'know,” he started, already smiling. “I think sharing might be a little easier than expected.”

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“Check, Please is a story about hockey and friendship and bros and trying to find yourself during the best 4 years of your life.”

[zimmerbabe]

Dysania

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2vEdk42

by i_kinda_like_writing

Dysania: the state of finding it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Dex and Nursey live across the hall from one another their sophomore year. Nursey’s roommate has a tendency to sexile him at the worst of times. Dex has a single. The only obvious solution? Dex opens up his bed to a friend in need.

Words: 5159, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Check Please! (Webcomic)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: William “Dex” Poindexter, Derek “Nursey” Nurse, Chris “Chowder” Chow

Relationships: Derek “Nursey” Nurse/William “Dex” Poindexter

Additional Tags: Sharing a Bed, Platonic Cuddling, References to Shakespeare, but only momentarily, Mathematics, both math and shakespeare are just plot devices for love, Love, Self-Esteem Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Fluff, so soft, basically it’s a thousand times nursey and dex slept together platonically, and the one time they didn’t, Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2vEdk42

[zimmerbabe]

I wrote that au from @onethousandroaches ‘s blog about soulmates and roaches in the attic

[zimmerbabe]

okay but eric richard bittle is so talented at hockey and if he doesn’t even get looked at by at least two scouts im gonna scream.

he roughly started learning to play hockey back in 2010 after he last competed in juniors. after that he quickly became captain of his co-ed team and was granted a hockey scholarship at samwell in three years.

he then became first line in his first year and battled through his checking problem despite being used to non contact hockey. made a comeback in his second year so much so he was back on his old line and was part of the team to make the final of the frozen four.

now after six years of learning the sport he is about to captain a strong ncaa hockey team. is known not just for his killer speed but for his stick handling. just talk to jack if you want his stats. members of the team actively seek out his hockey advice and look to him as a leader.

eric richard bittle learnt and excelled more at a sport in six years, at a late time in life for said sport, than some that have been training since they could walk. that amount of growth in such a short amount of time? scouts would be crazy to not see the opportunity in him. if he could do all that in six years just imagine how amazing he could be with three more years.

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killing me softly with his song

i like to think about dex playing his guitar, but he’s always been a little insecure about whether he could really be considered a musician, because he kinda just gave up on the lessons after taking them for a few years (he doesn’t trust his ear and panics when asked to recognize intervals and other music theory shit), and the most he can do now are some easy chords, or some ad libbed parodies of things with very catchy/recognizable jingles

so he ad libs lyrics to things like ‘let it go’ (”derek nurse / derek nurse / has once again ruined my shirt”) and ‘behind these hazel eyes’ (”here i am / once again / chirped within an inch / of my life / by chris chow / aaand derek nurse”) and ‘baby’ (”and i was like, ‘nursey nursey nursey why’ / ‘nursey nursey nursey why’ / ‘nursey nursey nursey why’ / ‘why do you keep saaaying that’”)

dex likes to especially narrate nursey’s life as a way to (gently) chirp him, so nursey jokes that this is a ‘killing me softly with his song’ situation–

I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style And so I came to see him, to listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes Strumming my pain with his fingers Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song

dex expands on that joke by ad libbing more and more hilarious lyrics with ridiculous rhymes, with the intent of making nursey laugh harder and harder. sometimes he’s singing about the latest woe his flannel has suffered at the hands of nursey (gentle ribbing at nursey’s occasional clumsiness–dex would never go too far / hurt nursey’s feelings), sometimes he’s singing about the ridiculous things that supposedly happen in the haus (with an ounce of truth, of course), etc. always to the tune of ‘killing me softly with his song.’

then dex has to fulfill samwell’s arts requirement (perks of a liberal arts college’s degree requirements) and he tries his hand at intro to music theory. and he finds out that he’s not actually that bad? he even signs up to do some guitar lessons (he probably receives some form of financial aid, and samwell offers music lessons to students who receive financial aid at no extra cost if the student takes a music course along with it for that year). he gains some confidence in his abilities to play guitar and sing here

meanwhile, he and nursey aren’t fighting that much anymore (haven’t, in a while) and they just chirp each other a lot, and dex finds that he can’t get nursey’s words about this being a ‘killing me softly with his song’ situation and he’s like, wondering stuff

then one day dex and nursey are out in (on?) the reading room, and dex kinda just brings out his guitar, takes a deep breath, and starts strumming ‘killing me softly with his song.’ sings out the lyrics, the original ones. 

nursey’s just sitting there, waiting for the parody lyrics to come, because that’s what dex does. deflects. that’s what they’ve both been doing about their feelings, honestly. 

but the parody lyrics don’t come. and dex isn’t looking up, he’s just firmly looking down at the strings, as he softly sings through once, before singing it a second time, this time with ad libbed lyrics about his feelings for nursey and how he’s fallen in love with him and his poetry and even the way leaves cling to nursey and just everything

he stops playing. he’s afraid to look up. but then he does, and he’s never seen nursey look so stunned?? or–dare he say it–smitten??

then they kiss and nursey writes him love poems and dex writes him love jingles (he’s slowly moving up to love songs ok) and sometimes the poems/jingles are full of chirps and puns and jokes and sometimes they are romantic. at any rate they love each other’s poems/jingles and are very happy with each other. the end!

[zimmerbabe]

jack&bitty having a long and validating talk about bittys childhood. they both cry.

maybe not quite what the prompt says, but probably emotional. some things are raised that i might like to explore in more detail in something else, but yeah. i suppose this is sweet, and emotional. i hope you like it.

i got this throwback cheesy song in my head partway through writing. almost 10 years later and it’s still romantic as all get out.

alabama, arkansas, I do love my ma and panot the way that I do love youholy moly me oh my, you’re the apple of my eyegirl I’ve never loved one like youman oh man, you’re my best friend I scream it to the nothingnessthere ain’t nothing that I need…home, let me come homehome is whenever I’m with youhome, yes I am homehome is wherever I’m with you

- home, by edward sharpe and the magnetic zeroes

not the way that i do love you

As if the throbbing headache from dehydration and raw feeling in his throat from sobbing weren’t enough, Bitty is also hit with a wave of guilt when Jack shoulders the door open and his smile drops.

His usual cheery greeting dies on his lips, his duffle bag falls to the floor, and he lets out a noise that sounds like he’s been punched in the gut.“Bits, what -”Bitty flaps a hand at him, stretching his mouth into something which is supposed to be a smile. “I’m fine. Honey, it’s fine. It’s nothing.”

He’d intended to stop crying at least an hour ago, to give his face time to calm down. His emotions had had other plans, it seemed.

At least he feels thoroughly dry now.

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Jack Zimmermann is not a morning person - a visual essay

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happy birthday, jacques laurent

“I just cannot decide what kind of cake to make Jack.”

Nursey raised an eyebrow, looking up from his study notes. “Not pie?” 

“Don’t be silly,” Bitty said, flipping through the ancient Joys of Jell-o cookbook he’d been browsing in a last-ditch effort for inspiration. “Jack gets pie all the time. It’s his birthday. It has to be cake.” 

“Alrighty,” Nursey said easily. “Throw your list at me.” 

Bitty sighed. “Butter Toffee-Pecan Layer Cake. Triple-Layer Chocolate-Caramel Cake. Buttermilk-Lime Mini Cakes with Vanilla-Mascarpone Buttercream-”

“Wow.”

“I know,” Bitty huffed. “None of them fit.” 

“Have you asked Jack what kind of cake he wants?” Nursey asked, tapping his pencil against his cheek. 

“Of course,” Bitty said. “What kind of boyfriend do you take me for? He just said, ‘Whatever you wants, Bits.’ Totally unhelpful.” 

Nursey chuckled. “Jack’s a simple dude. Just make a simple cake. He’ll love anything you do.” 

Bitty perked up, similing. “Derek Nurse, I do not say this enough, but you, sir, are a genius.”

Nursey just shrugged, looking only just a bit smug when he got an extra slice of pie at dinner that night. 

“Blow out the candles and make a wish!” 

Jack stared at the cake curiously. “Chocolate?”

“Yep!” Bitty popped the “P” and leaned into Jack’s side. 

“Chocolate what?”

“Just chocolate.” 

Jack blinked. “No caramel? No sea salt? Cayenne? Coffee? Pomegranate?”

“Just chocolate, honey,” Bitty said sweetly. “And sprinkles, of course. Nothing fancy, just the good stuff for my good stuff.” He pinched Jack’s ass lightly, a teasing grin on his face.  

“Oh,” Jack said, smiling down at the cake. “Yum. It looks great. Thanks, Bits.”

Bitty leaned up to kiss Jack briefly. “Happy birthday, darlin’. Now blow out the candles before they melt. And make your wish!”

Jack took a deep breath and blew, but didn’t bother with the wish. Bittle was all he wanted or needed; no reason to get greedy.