On a sunny Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

Nursey/Dex(This was totally a prompt from ages ago that I just saw again and finished)

The annual Literature Evening wasn’t going too badly for Dex. Sure, there were mosquitoes everywhere and the lawn was damp under his shorts, but the readers were passionate and sometimes even funny.

He picked at the grass, his fingers slipping from the condensation. A chuckle escaped him while he listened to the girl with the mic; she was describing an awkward make out session in relentless detail. It was cringe-worthy and, apparently, relatable to many people in the audience, going by their sympathetic sighs and murmurings of agreement.

The orange lights shown brighter in the gazebo while the world around them slowly inched into a pale purple. Filtering through branches, twinkling sunlight misted the lawn. There was a ladybug crawling on Dex’s finger. The girl made another quip, the crowd laughed.

Nursey hadn’t gone up yet; every time there was an opening, an expectant pause before the previous reader sat and another stood, Nursey would straighten up to only falter.

“Just do it, man.” Dex nudged him. It wasn’t very hard, seeing as they were already sitting with shoulders brushing. Dex tried not to linger on it. “You picked all your pieces already, right?”

Nursey nodded in a way that wasn’t as casual as he probably wanted, “Chyeah. ‘Course.” Dex’s gaze followed the bob of his Adams apple.

“You got this.”

“’Chyeah. ‘Course.”

This time Dex rolled his eyes. “You said that already.”

“Oh.” He sighed, “Fuck.” Then he shook his head, as if to shake something out of his hair.

Dex’s entire line of sight narrowed down to the movement. The girl’s story was muffled to his ears, he no longer felt the grass between his fingers. All his brain computed was the evening light bouncing off of Nursey’s hair. Amber sparks against his dark, tightly coiled, beautifulhair.

People always told Dex that his own hair looked like fire in the sunlight.

He thought Nursey’s deserved some praise.

“You’re beautiful.” Dex whispered. He blinked. “Your poetry,” He said, coughing, “it’s beautiful.” His face burned.

Nursey looked up, mouth open.

“You forreal, Dex? You think it’s good enough?” Nursey was giving him these painfully hopeful eyes.

With no control of his mouth, Dex said, “Yeah. Completely.” Then, he shoved Nursey again. “Now get your ass up there, Nurse, before I leave you here.” There. That was less humiliating.

Nursey nodded and laughed lightly. “Can’t have that now, can we Dexy?” He pushed himself up and walked over to the edge of the gazebo.

Dex’s heart hammered in his ears. The previous participant stepped down and Nursey took their spot. He jostled with the microphone before clearing his throat.

He began.

A feeling squirmed in Dex’s gut. He was lost in Nursey’s tall limbs, the way he gesticulated for emphasis, how his lips moved around the words.

The sun set around him, bright oranges reaching all around his figure.

He truly is beautiful.

Nursey’s eyes roamed the lawn until they hit Dex’s. A smile grew on his face, warping the tone of his sentence.

Dex couldn’t stop his lips from quirking up too.

The feeling in his gut intensified.

Oh. Dex thought. I’m so fucked.

Sunday Six: The Robert Lawrence Book Club

Y'all,@the-wordbutler’s birthday is finally nigh!!! That means a couple more snippets of birthday fic.

____________________________________________________________

Holster

brooooooooooooooo!

are we forming a book club?

i’ve always wanted to be in a book club!

Ransom

You ahve?

Holster

man, who DOESN’T want to sit around with wine & cheese saying, “Well, I didn’t actually read this” then have a bunch of bullshit opinions about it anyway

We✨do not✨deserve✨Larissa Duan

bruh, that was literally every paper you wrote in college. except replace “wine & cheese” with “tub juice & bagel bites”

Holster

you wound me lardo

not an astronaut

This is based off a personal experience. Tw for fat-shaming, homophobia, and general assholery from an asshole kid.

The bell rings cheerfully as Bitty steps through the doorway. This was one of his favorite places when he was younger. The eclectic curios, every shape and size and color, packing the shelves were an endless source of fascination for young Eric Bittle, and the owners were friends of the family, so they knew Bitty well and didn’t freak out when he picked up a ceramic pepper shaker or glass figurine and held it in his hands like an ancient treasure.

He walks through the store with that same sense of wonder now, 30 years later, and brushes his hand reverently over the shelves. They’re not looking for anything in particular today, but Bitty has told Jack about this place so many times, he simply couldn’t help but visit. Besides, you never know when you might find the perfect accent piece for the new home.

Chicken-shaped serving bowls, a porcelain figurine of a girl dancing, a set of silverware in a dusty wooden case. Bitty is spoiled for choice. As he browses, there’s a movement at the back of the store, and he catches a glimpse of someone hauling boxes through a door. He wonders who runs the place now. The sign still says Thompson’s Antiques, but he knows Mrs. Thompson passed and Mr. Thompson is getting on in years. Could it be that…

A prickle of fear runs through him.

The figure in the back drags the box to a nearby aisle and starts unpacking it, placing items on a low shelf. Bitty’s curiosity overflows. He moseys into that aisle and begins to speak, but the man raises his head before he can get a word out. He has to catch his breath all over again.

The man’s face goes slack. “I know you,” he blurts.

Eric puts his hands on his hips and gives a bright smile. “Davey Thompson. So you’re here after all!”

~~~

“Davey, this is Eric. Eric, this is our little boy Davey.” Mrs. Thompson’s smile is bright as she urges her son forward. “Why don’t you two go play at the playground while Mommy and her friend talk?”

The kid is tough-looking, with ruddy cheeks and a thick build. Eric reaches out his hand to lead Davey along the way. The minute they’re out of earshot, Davey snatches his hand back like he’s just touched a hot stove. Eric turns, surprised.

“You’re fat,” Davey says.

Eric blinks.

“You look dumb,” Davey adds on. And thus a quote-unquote “friendship” was born.

~~~

Davey stands up. He still has the same tinted cheeks and stocky build that Bitty remembers, but his face is sunken somehow, and he’s built up muscle where baby fat used to linger on his arms and shoulders. He’s got a tattoo on one arm – a Japanese koi fish, mid-splash.

“Nice ink,” Bitty comments.

And Davey Thompson, for possibly the first time in his life, smiles at Bitty. “Thanks.”

“The shop looks nice,” Bitty says, surveying the shelf like it’s his domain. “Hasn’t changed much since I used to come here.”

“You’re – you’re Eric Bittle, right?” Davey says, sounding almost scared of the answer. “From school?”

“From way before school,” Bitty responds. “You’re looking good.”

“Uh. Thanks. Same to you.” Davey looks uncertain, almost sheepish. There’s a moment of awkward silence. Davey tries to break it. “Um. So. What are you –”

He doesn’t seem to have the strength, or the will, to come up with the rest of the sentence. Bitty picks it up. “I’m a pastry chef,” he says. “I have a bakery and I cater, and I’ve put out three cookbooks. Can you imagine that?”

Davey looks kind of stunned. “Wow,” he says slowly. “Good for you. Where’s the bakery?”

“Up in New England. Providence, Rhode Island, to be exact.”

Davey snaps his fingers. “That’s right, you went to college up there. For hockey, wasn’t it?”

~~~

Bitty takes a swing at the ball. He misses, and it goes tumbling behind him into the net.

“Hah, you’re the worst goalie,” Davey says.

Somehow, Bitty finds the courage to say, “Let me play forward.” But his words are swallowed by the passing of a car on the cross street.

“What?”

“You be goalie.” Bitty gives the phrase all the menace he’s got in an eight-year-old body.

Davey laughs, a cruel laugh that sounds like ripping paper in Bitty’s ears. “Why? I can score on you all I want. That’s why we made you goalie.”

Resentment simmers like a low sun in Bitty’s gut. He wants to challenge Davey to play him on actual ice. He knows Davey can’t skate. As bad as he is, Bitty can’t possibly lose to him there. But the words stay stuck inside, plastered to the inside of his stomach, making him feel sick.

“Worst goalie ever,” Kevin chimes in.

“The worst, the wooooorst,” all four of them sing to him.

Bitty crouches low and is glad they can’t see much through the oversized goalie mask. Someday, he thinks, someday I’m gonna get them.

~~~

“Something like that,” Bitty answers easily. “And you’ve been here running the store?”

“Pretty much.” He doesn’t look very proud of that fact.

“I remember you used to say you were going to be an astronaut.”

“Ah, well –” The rose tint on Davey’s cheeks grows a shade deeper. “We were kids. I figure I missed my shot to make something of myself.”

All of Bitty’s nurturing instincts come alive. “Don’t say that. You’re doing well. Doing good, honest work. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Nah, man. It was just the easiest thing to do, once Mom got sick. I had to be here for her, and I … just stayed.”

Bitty gazes at him. This isn’t the attitude he expected from Davey Thompson, not in the slightest. He seems so defeated, as though Bitty’s arrival has reminded him of everything he isn’t. Bitty doesn’t want to be that for him, but he doesn’t think he has a choice in the matter. He quashes the small, self-satisfied demon that’s cackling in the back of his head. He’s not that kid anymore, either.

Just then, the chimes jingle at the front of the store. The babbling voice of a young child brightens the room. “Ah,” Bitty says, “there they are. He had to keep them outside a while before they calmed down. Little kids just work themselves up into a dither sometimes.” He offers an apologetic smile to Davey and retreats down the aisle toward the front of the store.

Suze is quiet, but it’s clear she was crying her eyes out earlier. She hangs on to her Papa with a fierce fist. Robby’s eyes are bugging out at the sight of the store. “What’s that?” he keeps asking, tugging on Jack’s slacks. Jack himself looks a little the worse for wear, but happy. That kind of tired-happy that they see in each other’s faces every night once the kids are in bed.

“Come on, Rob,” Bitty says, holding out his hands. “Want to see Daddy’s favorite store?”

Robby holds out his hands to be picked up. Bitty obliges, despite the warning creak of his back. He turns to take Robby further into the store and sees Davey standing there, staring them down.

He points. “I know you, too.”

“Ah, here we go,” Bitty says with a laugh.

“Were you in school with us? I don’t think that’s right, but—”

Jack holds out his hand for a shake. “Jack Zimmermann,” he says. “And you are?”

“My old friend Davey,” Bitty fills in. He can’t help but put a pointed emphasis on the friendpart.

Davey clasps Jack’s hand but doesn’t seem to want to let go. “You’re Jack Zimmermann? The hockey player?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

Davey pumps Jack’s hand about four more times before finally letting go. “It’s – it’s good to meet you.” He looks at Suze, still curled up in Jack’s other arm. “And these are your kids? Or—” He turns to Bitty, face contorted in confusion. “Are they your kids?”

“Both,” Bitty answers cheerily. “Davey, meet my husband.”

Davey Thompson very nearly has a coronary right there.

~~~

“Hah, you’re just small all over, aren’t you?” Davey says with a pointed glance at Bitty’s crotch.

“You can’t help how you’re born,” Bitty retorts, but he pulls up his boxers right quick.

“Yeah, some people are just born stupid,” Davey agrees. Bitty instantly regrets replying at all.

Kyle whispers something in Davey’s ear. They both laugh.

“You’re right,” Davey says. He turns back to Bitty. “He’s right. They do say things about you.”

Bitty’s heart drops to his stomach. “W-what things?”

“You know! That you’re—” Davey flaps his wrist.

He doesn’t seem to have the nerve to say the word, but he doesn’t have to say it. The others in the locker room laugh.

For not the first time, Bitty is tempted to just ask, “So what if I am?” But he can’t. Not to these people. This isn’t how he wants his coming out to happen. So he just turns away and pulls on his sweatpants, ignoring the rills of laughter that echo against the lockers, and feels small. Small all over.

~~~

Davey recovers from his shock and nods his head rapidly. “Oh, I get it. Uh, congratulations. Uh, Bittle, could I talk to you a sec?”

He has that sheepish look again. Bitty watches as he retreats into one of the side aisles. “Gimme a sec,” he tells Jack, setting Robby down, and follows Davey.

When they’re isolated, Davey turns to him sorrowfully. “I, uh—” Davey looks at the floor. “I was pretty mean to you in school.”

It isn’t what Bitty expected, not at all. To be honest, demons in the back of his head aside, this sort of thing doesn’t bother him so much anymore. Why should it? He’s married with two kids and a brand new home. He doesn’t spare a lot of time thinking about the distant past. “Um,” he starts, suddenly terribly embarrassed.

“No, let me—” Davey raises a hand. “Just let me. I said a lot of nasty things to you back then. I’m really sorry about it. I think about it a lot, and I’m just – I’m really sorry.”

There is a piece of Bitty that’s happy, even smug, at hearing this apology. But mostly he just pities Davey at this point. What a thing to carry around your whole life. “We were kids,” Bitty says. “Kids say dumb things. It’s all water under the bridge.”

“Still.” Davey says.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt me,” Bitty goes on. “But I turned out okay, don’t you think?”

Davey laughs grimly “Yeah, look at you … and look at me.” He shrugs.

“You seem to be doing all right,” Bitty says charitably.

“I’m not an astronaut,” Davey says.

Bitty laughs. “Neither am I. We’re all good.” He pats Davey on the shoulder. A moment passes between them, silent, as they both listen to the sound of the past giving way to a new, kinder present.

After the moment passes, Bitty grins “Come on, I’m going to introduce you to my kids. Do you have kids?”

Davey flushes. “Yeah, I got a teenager. A real smartass. I wonder where he learned it.”

“Pictures!” Bitty declares. “Get that phone out, I demand pictures.”

Davey struggles to pull his phone out of his jeans pocket. This time, he flushes with pride. He narrates the story of each photo as they walk back toward the front.

“Jack. Isn’t this dangerous?”

Bitty angles his head to the side. Above him, Jack snaps another picture.

“I’m not going to put them online,” Jack says. “I’ll keep them on the camera, then delete them after.” After what? Bitty wants to ask, but he also kind of knows the answer.

He feels gorgeous, lying here nude against the blue sheets. Above him, Jack’s in jeans and socks and nothing else, the strap of the camera lying against his bare chest. Bitty wants him down here, but he also wants to keep feeling this way, like he’s a piece of art to be admired, even worshipped. Jack tilts his head, makes an approving noise, and snaps two or three shots. The camera’s click is like a touch, Like each time, Jack’s putting those big callused hands on him and saying don’t move, i want you just like this.

But Bitty can’t not move. He slides around on the sheets, finding different ways to drape his arms over the sheets and his stomach, turning his head to catch the radiant sunlight. Jack follows him with every move, kneeling over his legs, sometimes scrambling to the side or off the bed to get a shot. “Bits,” he says, and his voice is thick with want.

“Put the camera down,” Bitty coaxes, “and come here, sweetheart.” He knows what that tone of voice does to Jack, can see the evidence of it in the tent of his jeans. Jack breathes harder behind the camera, but he keeps shooting, as Bitty turns to his side and arches his back and stretches like a lazy cat.

He spreads his legs, and Jack takes the invitation, kneeling between them. He holds the camera in one hand, and places his other hand flat against Bitty’s stomach. The contact burns Bitty like a brand, and he arches up into it, letting out a little impatient sigh.  Jack captures the sigh, looks at the image on his camera, and nods. “Make more noises like that,” he says.

“Make me make more noise,” Bitty challenges.

Jack grins, a wide, eager smile. He slides his hand down Bitty’s stomach and teases at the head of his cock.

An involuntary “ooh” comes out of Bitty’s mouth, and Jack snaps at that moment, making a throaty noise that’s half-pleased, half-yearning. “You should see these, Bits,” he says. “The way you look–”

“Jack…” Bitty thrusts his hips up. “Too much talking.” He shoots Jack a look that says, you know what to do.

And Jack does. His hand comes down to encircle Bitty’s cock, so much heat all of a sudden so much there and Bitty arches up as the sensation seizes him. His jaw opens, and he breathes heavy exhales as Jack snaps and snaps. Jack strokes him, one deep stroke from root to tip, and Bitty shudders, the pleasure zinging through his blood. He blinks up at Jack with big, pleading eyes.

Jack slides his hand down to Bitty’s balls and  teases him there; Bitty keens at the intense sensation. Snap, snap sounds from somewhere above as Bitty tangles his hands in the sheets and balls up the fabric into fists. “J– Jack,” he starts, breath coming faster.

Snap. Snap. Jack’s hand back on his cock, stroking faster, the sounds of the camera echoing in Bitty’s ears. He pulls himself together and lifts a hand to Jack’s upper arm. “Jack,” he pants, “if you do not get down here within five seconds, I cannot guarantee the safety of that fancy camera of yours.”

And at last, at last, Jack sets the camera down on the bedside table and leans down to meet him.

MasterList

Well, that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who participated in this event as creators, beta readers, and cheerleaders!

Here is the masterlist of works created for the event. If we accidentally left yours out, let us know and we’ll get it fixed as quickly as possible!

Mods Emi and Missweber

Original Music

Mic Check Please Track #1: Eighteen (not rated)

Bymarc0bot

Fic

I Don’t Want it at All (Rated M, Patater)

bybigspicysenpai

One fateful day at world juniors, Alexei spots the most beautiful guy he’s ever seen. He can’t say anything, unless he wants to out himself to his Russian teammates. The guy then gives him the jersey off his back to remember him by. Thus begins Alexei Mashkov’s incurable obsession with a certain Kent Parson…

5 times Alexei received or stole one of Kent’s shirts and 1 time Kent took his. ( Marginally less weird than it sounds)

In the Blue Hours of the Morning (Rated M, Ollie/Wicky)

bytapdancinglorax

Somewhere deep in the Samwells woods, there’s a rickety old house. In the house, there are nine kids.

It’s Only a Change of Time (Rated M)

bymissweber

Every hockey player knows the Stanley Cup is supposed to be magic.

Most of them know the stories about wishes and curses and visions of things that never happened.

A few players know for themselves what the Cup’s magic can do.

What no one knows is what the Cup’s magic is.

What it is, is old. Powerful. Dangerous.

And it has been waiting for someone like Jack Zimmermann for a very long time.

Too bad Jack can’t remember why. Or what he’s supposed to do about it.

Maybe Just a Little Homo (Rated T, Holsom)

byshadowysandwichphantom

“But you guys are now, like, brofriends?” Holster and Ransom look at each other, then back at Lardo.

“Absolutely,” they say.

“With huge bromantic gestures and declarations of "full bromo love”?“ Lardo asks. Ransom and Holster look at each other.

"Yoooooo…”

Mon fils, ma bataille (Rated T, Zimbits)

byemimix3

Bob wakes up.

It’s not his bed, next to him, it’s not his wife, and his baby son is nowhere to be found. And it’s just the start of this very weird and emotional day.

Never Forget You (Rated M, Holsom)

byMcBangle

Justin’s in his third year of medical school, pulling a late shift when he gets paged down to the Emergency Department. Adam has taken a hard check during a hockey rec league game and Justin is horrified to discover that his best bro and favorite person in the whole world can no longer recognize him. If Adam gets through this, Justin will never let him go again.

Paradise Found (Rated T, Zimbits)

bywrathofthestag

When Jack met Bitty at the Paradise Found club, he thought he had found a perfect dance partner—then one misunderstanding caused things to fall apart. A story about what happens when you misjudge someone but eventually open yourself up to friendship and love.

picking up what you’re putting down (Rated M, Holster/Ransom/Chowder)

bygreenishbucket

Rans takes a gulping breath. “Holtzy, I don’t wanna freak you out,” he says, unsteady in a way that definitely freaks Holster out, “but I think I’m legit hallucinating things. Like, I honestly thought I saw Chris Chow in our fucking laundry room.”

A Rose by any Other Name (Rated T, Holsom)

bytwostepsfromtemerant

Welcome to the newest season of The Bachelorette. After the heartbreak she experienced last season, April is back and ready for love. Watch along as April and this group of men go on the journey of a lifetime to find love. But as with any journey, it isn’t always a straight path. Heartbreak and drama abound, including something never before seen in the history of Bachelor Nation…

sharpies and soulmates (Rated G, Zimbits)

bypeach-p0t

“You’re trying to bribe me into makin’ a fool of myself in from of Jack Zimmermann?”

“Is it working?”

Bitty is offered $100 by his teammates if only he can get the Jack Zimmermann to sign his forehead after a Falcs game. He can’t just let that cash go down the drain.

universal guide on setting up your friends together (Rated T, Zimbits, Nurseydex, Charmer, Holsom)

byblepbean

It’s near the Screw dance and the frogs are on edge, just after Chowder bumps into Farmer, Nursey and Dex spin up a plan to set the two of them up together using a twitter thread from Bitty’s old twitter. It sends a chain reaction with everyone trying to set everyone up together, including Holster and Ransom. What follows as a simple plan turns into something that can be dangerous, with the chaos of everyone setting each other up and potentially letting some feelings come through.

You see, it feels like I’m starting to care (Rated T, Zimbits)

byRabbitRunnah

Jack’s always been most at home on the ice. But sometimes he does his best thinking while he’s running.

universal guide on setting your friends up together by Blepbean

Fandoms:Check Please! (Webcomic)  

• Teen And Up Audiences
• Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
• M/M, F/M
• Complete Work

05 Apr 2021

Tags

• Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
• Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
• Derek “Nursey” Nurse/William “Dex” Poindexter
• Chris “Chowder” Chow/Caitlin Farmer
• Adam “Holster” Birkholtz/Justin “Ransom” Oluransi
• Eric “Bitty” Bittle
• Jack Zimmermann
• Derek “Nursey” Nurse
• Chris “Chowder” Chow
• William “Dex” Poindexter
• Adam “Holster” Birkholtz
• Justin “Ransom” Oluransi
• Caitlin Farmer
• Fluff
• Angst
• POV Multiple
• Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
• Flirting
• Love Confessions
• Enemies to Lovers
• Strangers to Lovers
• Friends to Lovers
• Miscommunication
• Mutual Pining
• Yearning
• Fake Flirting
• Or is it fake flirting?
• Denial of Feelings
• is holster and ransom a queerplatonic relationship in this fic?
• probably and mostly likely

Summary

It’s near the Screw dance and the frogs are on edge, just after Chowder bumps into Farmer, Nursey and Dex spin up a plan to set the two of them up together using a twitter thread from Bitty’s old twitter. It sends a chain reaction with everyone trying to set everyone up together, including Holster and Ransom. What follows as a simple plan turns into something that can be dangerous, with the chaos of everyone setting each other up and potentially letting some feelings come through.

===

“So you’re asking me for help,” Nursey points his finger at Chowder in the distance, “to set up Chowder with the girl.”

===

“—so we set them up!” Farmer says, her lips turning into a bright smile, her face lighting up like the sun, “or atleast get them closer together, and even if they don’t end up dating they’ll end—”

===

“Dude, he probably swings a bat at anyone that comes close to him. But what if we—”

“—try to set Nursey and Dex up. But also—”

“—Chowder and that other girl,” Ransom finishes, “setting up the frogs. Man, you like never run out of ideas.“

Language: English Words: 35,843 Chapters: 14/14 

Preview #10:

@doggernaut(RabbitRunnah on AO3)

Inspired by @omgcpausandstuff’s prompt: “ What if Jack goes for a run whenever he needs to sort out his thoughts? There are a lot of points in canon where Jack must have a lot on his mind - when he decides to help Bitty with checking, after “lucky shot”, when Bitty gets injured, after Epikegster, etc. and I’d love to see that explored with this framing.“

Jack would rather not do something,anything in his parents’ house, where they can wander into the room to keep an eye on him under the guise of watching the news or preparing a snack. When he told this to his therapist, she suggested running.

It takes him a little while to dig his running shoes out from under a pile of clothes in his closet, a pair of Nikes he bought because Kent had them and they looked cool. There’s some relief in knowing his shoes, at least, still fit. The plain black Under Armour t-shirt and basketball shorts he’s put on for this run hang off of his body; he doesn’t have to see his own reflection in a mirror to know he’s lost an alarming amount of weight.

Jack can hear his mother on the phone in her office and the sound of ESPN coming from the home gym indicates his father is in the middle of a workout, so he doesn’t interrupt them to tell him he’s going out. He just walks out the front door, letting it slam behind him.

He stands at the edge of the driveway for a minute, looking up and down the quiet street. He takes a few deep breaths, unsure of how to start, until he realizes it’s just running. How hard can it be?

Three blocks in, Jack decides he hates running.

Posting for the FYFW event starts on April 5th, stay tuned !

Preview #7:

@tapdancinglorax (AO3)

“Welcome to the Haus,” a voice from above them says. They jump a foot in the air. Ollie looks up, and another boy with matted hair and crazy eyes is perched in a tree. “It’s where they keep us.”

“What do you mean?” Ollie asks. “We’re here to train.”

The boy laughs, and it’s crazy. “Bull. Shit. We don’t train. This is where they keep the powerful ones, the ones who can do shit. The dangerous ones. The other kids get to fuck the fuck off home or stay and join the military and be heroes. Us, we get to sit on our asses and try not to die every five days.”

“Who are you?” The other kid asks, voice small and insecure.

“Name’s Shitty,” the boy says, and swings down to the ground. His hands are bloody. “Welcome to Samwell.”

Posting for the FYFW event starts on April 5th, stay tuned !

Preview #6:

Universal guide on how to set your friends up together

@blepbean​

“Fine, you know what. I’ll leave.”

“Good.”

“As soon as you tell me to leave.”

“Derek,” he says softly, but shaky at the vowels, like his heart is too full to take in anymore love, or maybe it’s not used to it.

Nursey steps into Dex’s space, because if they’re ending whatever they had in the first place—which was just nothing but malice that could turn into something else—he’ll be the one to do it, “tell me to leave. Tell me to fuck off. I’ll make it easier for the both of us and I’ll leave the team, you’ll find someone a new d-partner to hate and you will never have to see me again.”

“Fuck you,” his voice is now shaking, he takes Nursey’s turtleneck and grabs a handful of it, knuckles going white, veins showing.

“Tell me to leave,” Nursey says, a faint smile on his lips, because he thinks that he’ll never ever get tired of this bastard, “and I’ll go.”

Posting for the FYFW event starts on April 5th, stay tuned !

Preview #5:

@hisanakubi

Dex was about to just give up and launch something at random when an icon catches his eye.
The text is in a white flowy font on a black background, the sides crowned by matching twigs of laurel, and Dex recognizes the name of that show from the flyer he was given. He snorts a bit at the punny name. It’s a Shitty-level pun, in all sense of the term. But, well… A late night show sounds like just the kind of thing he needs right now.

Dex clicks on the icon and picks the latest episode, “Dark Matter Coffee,” settling back down on his pillows as the intro plays and sponsors of the campus radio are listed by a chirpy female voice. Then suddenly he hears it.

“Good evening my fellow night wellies and welcome to Nurseyng your soul, the chillest show on the campus radio. Tonight, we will travel through space and see stars…”

Posting for the FYFW event starts on April 5th, stay tuned !

Preview #2:

@peach-p0t(AO3)

But once Shitty told Bitty in front of half the team that he should get his forehead signed, they were quick to all pressure him into it, making him promise to have the sharpie with him when he asked.

“I am not doing that,” he insisted in the moment, handing the sharpie back after Shitty had forced it into his hands.

“Come on, Bitty, if you don’t we will pick on you forever for it,” Ransom said.

“Y’all already pick on me.”

“How ‘bout this?” Shitty said, handing the sharpie back. “I’ll bet you 20 bucks you won’t do it.”

“You’re trying to bribe me into makin’ a fool of myself in from of Jack Zimmermann?”

“Is it working?”

“No!” Bitty tried handing the sharpie back one last time, but Shitty moved his hands away.

“Alright, how’s 40 then? Holster will pay 20.”

“Hey, I didn’t agree to that!” Holster said.

“I’ll add some, too,” Ransom added, and soon enough, there was $100 waiting for Bitty if he could just get Jack Zimmermann to sign his forehead.

He couldn’t just let $100 go down the drain.

Posting for the FYFW event starts on April 5th, stay tuned !