i hate this image i made. its poorly edited but the sloppy cutting makes it look like he has some weird glow to him, and its so fucking… its such a hefty image, i cant even send it on discord cause of how big it is. its got so many pixels, you can see the dumb monkeys pores
If there’s one thing Nursey doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to about living at Samwell, it’s having to drive places. In New York, what isn’t in walking distance is in biking distance, what isn’t in biking distance is accessible by the subway, and everything outside of the subway isn’t really worth visiting. Samwell, however, is sort of in the middle of nowhere. Dex and Bitty acted like it was some kind of urban center, just an hour out from Boston, but to Nursey, it was suburbia at best, and that required a car.
Nursey was thinking about all this because he was currently gripping the wheel of his seven year old Hyundai Sonata, weaving his way through the roads that surrounded Samwell’s campus, searching for a lost frog. He really hated driving, but Whiskey had called him at midnight and told him about how one of the newest team members had apparently left the Haus halfway through the annual start of the season kegster and no-one had seen him since. Nursey had called the guy four times, and it kept going straight to voicemail, so either his phone was dead, or he didn’t want to talk. Unfortunately for him, Nursey wasn’t the kind of captain who let his players stew in their emotions. He knew better than that.
It was close to 1 AM when Nursey finally pulled onto the gravel road leading to the lakefront. The water was still, a cool black mirror that reflected the stars, the firebugs, and the boy sitting at the edge of the lake’s pier. He didn’t move at all when he heard the car pull up, just kept staring out into the distance, across the lake. His feet didn’t quite touch the surface of the water. He had put his shoes and socks back at the place where the pier met the road, where Nursey stood, pulling off his sandals and walking softly to the edge. The new guy took a deep breath when Nursey sat down. He could hear it rattle.
“How’d you find me?”
Nursey looked up at the moon. It hung heavy over the lake, a warm yellow color that gave the night a comforting sort of glow. He looked at the boy next to him, probably barely 18 and out of the house for the first time, scared stiff and not sure what to do outside of act tough and, apparently, run away if things got overwhelming.
“I went to your dorm first. Your roommate let me in, told me he didn’t know where you were. I saw a picture, though. Of you out on a lake, holding a fish. I figured this was as good a bet as any.”
The frog exhaled and looked down at the lake. His hands were still shaking, and Nursey could tell that his eyes were getting wet. A breeze was coming off the lake, and it ruffled its way through their hair. Nursey didn’t say anything. It wasn’t him who needed to talk right now.
“Back on my old team, everyone called me Jones.”
Nursey just looked at him.
“Some of the guys-Will and Chris?-were talking about nicknames, and one of them, the one with the Sharks hoodie, asked me what mine was. It was Jones, but like, I really fucking hate that name.”
His hand was still shaking, Nursey pulled his legs up from where they were dangling off the pier and turned to face the frog completely. His eyes were more than just wet now, he was crying, no holds barred, and Nursey was torn between not wanting to see his teammate hurting, and knowing that crying was good sometimes, that this guy needed to let whatever it was that made him run so far away off his chest.
“I just-fuck, listen, I know it sounds stupid, but I’m a shitty hockey player, and that’s why my nickname was Jones, because that’s average, and that’s all I am at best, and being at that party with Jack fucking Zimmerman and Justin Oluransi, who’s like, the best defensive player that the Sharks ever had, and even you, you’re the captain, you’re one of the best players in college hockey PERIOD and I’m just some random guy from Minnesota who doesn’t even deserve to be here, on this team, with so many people who’re practically icons-”
Not-Jones broke off them, voice cracking in frustration. He stared angrily at the lake, tears streaming down his face, trying to keep from sobbing.
“Your name is Karam, right? Karam Hashmat, Number 37, from West Hill, Minnesota?”
Karam looked up at Nursey defensively, face flushed. Nursey could see the dark circles under his eyes, and he felt the familiar pang of worry for this kid. The hardest part of being a captain, for Nursey, was realizing he couldn’t fix everyone’s problems, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
“Okay, Karam, first things first? No-one is going to call you a name you hate. We’re a team, and we can’t be that if we’re also being dicks to each other.Second, I’ve been playing hockey since I was a kid. I’ve played with Jack and Justin and Eric Bittle and fuck, Chris Chow, the guy in the Sharks hoodie? Give him two years and he’ll be dominating the NHL, he’s the best goalie that this sport’s ever seen, and I’d bet my life on that.”
“Is this supposed to be helpful?”
Nursey gave Karam a small nudge with his shoulder, smiled at him gently.
“Yeah, bro. Give me a sec, I’m getting there. My point is, I’ve seen some great players in my day. I can tell who’s great, and who’s bad, and who’s average. Coach showed me your tapes, Karam. We need a center who’s great, because Whiskey is a badass but he won’t be here forever, and I think you can be that guy. Fuck what anyone else says, I can tell who can do this. Everything, your stats, your tapes, your drive in practice, none of that is average, and it sure as fuck isn’t bad.”
He looked at Karam earnestly.
“Dude, I believe in you.”
Karam glanced up at Nursey, tears still coming, but slower now, with less urgency.
“Do you mean that, Captain?”
Nursey grinned, and stood up. He put out his hand for Karam.
“100% my man. Now lets get back to the Haus, you can crash on the couch and make Bittle cry before he goes home to Providence.”
Karam laughed, and grabbed Nursey’s hand to help pull himself up. Nursey slung his arm around Karam’s shoulder as they walked back to their cars, the moon still softly glowing in the night sky behind them.
you know, I’m always saying how you shouldn’t move in together too young or too soon, but I actually think that Isak and Even moving in together fits Isak’s narrative quite beautifully? and like, I know i’m trash who could easily come up with at least ten reasons to justify them dropping out of high school to become organic farmers if need be (look at them and tell me their love wouldn’t water the crops), but after the way season 3 ended, this just feels so right?
who knows if it will feel right tomorrow or next month, but that doesn’t matter because life is now. to me this doesn’t feel rushed, it doesn’t feel like a rash decision. quite the opposite, really. it feels in line with Isak’s realisation of life being now. sure they could wait and see a year or two until they’re older and no longer in the honeymoon phase, but during that time we might all get killed in some cosmic explosion and then the chance to experience how it feels like to wake up next to each other every morning rain or shine will be forever lost.
moving in together with your significant other is a major step. it’s not the same as shared housing. i’ve done both, more than once, and they’re not the same thing. it’s dirty dishes in the sink. it’s compromise. it’s disillusionment. it’s amazing and wonderful and exciting and comfortable, but sometimes it’s also boring and mundane and annoying. and even though it’s not something I would normally recommend a teenager do after just a few months of dating, I’m honestly so happy and so thrilled that Isak made that choice, because to me it’s a sign that his little speech about life being now was not just pretty words. he’s practicing what he preached, and it looks real good on him. he was positively glowing sitting on Even’s lap, so present in the moment, so present with his friends, caressed by the first sunrays of spring about to bloom, and seeing him that way, it just felt so right. life is now. if it feels right, let it.
a picture from the detroit rink’s 80′s night where yuuri’s ass looked incredible in purple lamé tights, and his bulge was poorly concealed behind a neon green and pink D.A.R.E fanny pack. “talk to celestino,” phichit says. “he’s the one with the video of yuuri skating a routine to olivia newton john’s ‘let’s get physical’”
yuuri blackout drunk at a cowboy bar, and attempting to drink a beer while riding a mechanical bull. he seems to be fine on the bull, curved into it with a cat-like stretch, but the drink is pouring down the side of his mouth and running down his exposed chest, all of the buttons of his shirt undone. his face is determined and his abs are glistening and his ass is pushed out like an invitation and victor gets off to it three times in a 24-hour period.
yuuri passed out on a couch, sharpie messages all over his face like “VICTOR NIKIFOROV’S DICK GOES HERE” with an arrow pointed to his mouth, and “IF FOUND, RETURN TO PHICHIT CHULANONT” on his forehead. he’s drooling into a pillow with a big smile on his face.
a picture yuuri never knew phichit took where he’s sitting in the window of their old apartment with a mug of something steaming, watching the snow fall outside. he looks soft and radiant, ethereal almost with the glow of winter catching him in all the right places.
yuuri drunk in the backseat of a car, crying while holding roughly thirty big macs from mcdonalds. “i can’t remember if he was happy crying or sad crying,” phichit admits. “either way, it’s incredible.”
He hadn’t even realised he’d fallen asleep, however here he
was slumped over Lance’s bed while said boy shivered miserably.
Hunk sat up stretching his aching back before glancing at
the floor where Keith was softly snoring. Hunk smiled as he stood up, getting a
spare blanket and placing it over the red paladin’s shoulders. He was half
tempted to wake him, but judging from the dark circles under his eyes Keith too
had fallen asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
“H-unk” Lance asked weakly trying to sit up.
Hunk was at his side in an instant, gently propping him up
against the pillows. “Hey buddy, how you feeling?”
“F-Fine” lance whimpered as he began to cough harshly into
“Yeah you sound it.” Hunk sighed rubbing soothing circles on
Lance’s back and waiting until the painful sounding coughing was done.
“Don’ fee good” Lance slurred.
Hunk sighed “That would be the fever buddy, it’s really bad.”
Hunk regretted those words the second Lance’s eyes widened in panic. He quickly
put his hands up almost in surrender “But nothing I can’t handle right. Who was
it that said my cooking could cure all diseases?”
Lance smiled “I did.”
“There, if you won’t believe me, then you had better believe
yourself. I personally don’t know anyone better.” Hunk smiled as he placed a
large hand on Lance’s forehead frowning at the heat still radiating off him.
It had been almost two days now since Lance had been brought
to the infirmary and in that time his fever had topped at 105 degrees only to drop
to an annoyingly high 102. No matter what they did it seemed like Lance’s body
was working itself too hard for the fever to break.
Lance leaned into Hunks touch closing his eyes again.
“Hang on a second buddy, you need to try and drink something
before you go back to sleep.” Hunk said quickly pulling his hand away causing
Lance to whine with the lack of the cool skin against his own.
Lance didn’t answer, only nodded and allowed Hunk to place
the straw between his lips.
Hunk couldn’t help but feel a stab of panic when Lance
barley had three sips before he broke away coughing again.
“Lance! You ok?” He asked trying to hold Lance up so that he
wouldn’t fall of the bed.
He was coughing so deep and wet that his whole frame rattled
with every gasp of breath. Hunk hated this.
He hated not being able to ease his best friend’s pain; all
he could do was hold him.
When he coughs finally died down Lance was exhausted. He
slumped onto Hunk shivering from a chill only he could feel.
“You ok now?” Hunk asked knowing he wasn’t just from the crinkled
breathing coming from his chest.
“M’cold” Lance mumbled.
“I can help with that at least.”
As gently as picking up a kitten, Hunk sat on the bed with
his back leaned against the wall and pulled Lance onto his lap. Lance hesitated
for a moment, before he melted into Hunk, resting his head against his friend’s
chest just listening to his soothing heartbeat.
“Hunk? “Lance asked so Quietly Hunk nearly missed it over
the low rumble of the castle engines.
“Even though I’m not really human any more… do you think
Mama will still love me?” He asked as he buried his face into Hunks shirt as
though it could protect him from some kind of terrible truth.
“Well I still love you no matter what and you mom loves you
a million times more than ever could, no matter how much I try.” Hunk smiled as
he brushed the sweaty hair from Lance’s forehead.
Hunk thought Lance had fallen asleep until he felt a small
weak squeeze on his hand. He looked down to see Lances glowing blue eyes
staring up at him.
“Thanks Hunk… I love you.”
Hunk smiled kissing his forehead as he pulled him a little
closer “I love you too.”
Keith tried to remain still and pretend he was asleep and
that tears weren’t falling down his cheeks.