omgdexnursey

[omgdexnursey]

Im just feeling a certain way rn

#writing is hard

[omgdexnursey]

omgcp characters as things my swimmers have done

im a swimming teacher, ages 4+, and kids are weird

bitty: made me cookies for the end of term and made me cry with joy

jack: sat at my desk and took the register themselves because they were “tired of waiting around for you all the time”

shitty: asked to do press ups at the end of every length but got so tired they lay face down on the floor

lardo: dumped an entire bucket of water over my head. i was dry

ransom: came swimming for the first time in their life and moved up two groups on the very same day

holster: slipped off the diving block, styled it out, ended up doing a backflip

chowder: made me a birthday card with sparkly gel pen. it wasn’t my birthday

nursey: didn’t come for any lessons all term but rocked up in the last week for assessments and walked out with a certificate

dex: broke their float, ‘taped’ it back together with their goggles and insisted it was as good as new

whiskey: “if you don’t kick your legs, then you’ll drown. that’s about the long and the short of it” they’re 6

tango: countered every single one of my questions with a question. every week

#omgco #check please #samwell men's hockey

[omgdexnursey]

hmm maybe it’s time to revisit my nurseydex werewolf aus

[omgdexnursey]

I see some mutuals here and all i can think is “we could be friends. we’d sit at a bar and we’d talk and laugh and cry and we wouldn’t leave until they kicked us out” but you’re on the other side of the world. and i dont even know your name

#<3 #not omgcp

[omgdexnursey]

SUPER random, and I’m SO SORRY to bother you, but none of my friends are in this fandom and I’m trying to remember a fic I read a long time ago— but I CAN’T FIND IT— it’s a nurseydex fic where Dex is magic and he paints his body with blue paint before games (it’s Celtic or Irish I can’t remember) — please if you remember lmk but if not I apologize for the random ask, pls ignore me 💀

my god sorry i forgot to answer this ask. i’m not familiar with that fic but posting in case someone does know

#self reblog #here ye go

[omgdexnursey]

in which youtuber nursey keeps each of his videos on individual memory sticks and youtuber dex loses his mind

#did not realize what a memory stick was until i read your tags #i thought it was like. a strip of film or something ☠️☠️ #omgcp #check please #nurseydex #dexnursey #au #youtuber au

[omgdexnursey]

SUPER random, and I’m SO SORRY to bother you, but none of my friends are in this fandom and I’m trying to remember a fic I read a long time ago— but I CAN’T FIND IT— it’s a nurseydex fic where Dex is magic and he paints his body with blue paint before games (it’s Celtic or Irish I can’t remember) — please if you remember lmk but if not I apologize for the random ask, pls ignore me 💀

my god sorry i forgot to answer this ask. i’m not familiar with that fic but posting in case someone does know

#answered #anonymous

[omgdexnursey]

Bitty set the slice of pie down on the kitchen table and patted Dex’s shoulder. “Thank you so much, Dex! Everyone’s been avoiding laundry for weeks and–how do I put this–it’s starting to affect the general ambiance.”

“Why do you fix stuff if you hate it so much?” asked Nursey. He was loitering around the freshly cut pumpkin pie sitting on the counter.

Dex dug into his slice and frowned. “Because when something’s broken you fix it. Also? I don’t hate it.”

“Well…You did have a pretty big scowl on your face when you came up the stairs,” offered Bitty gently.

“Tuh,” said Nursey.

Dex shrugged. “I was actually very happy I got the dryer to work. I guess I was confused as to how I got it to work. It’s so beat up. Like, did you guys use to throw kegsters in the basement?”

“It’s okay if it’s for Dibs, Poindexter,” said Nursey. Somehow he had procured a pie slice.

“It’s not,”said Dex.

But he was already out in the foyer. “I mean, seriously, we all do stuff for Dibs. Thanks, Bitty!”

#omgcp #check please #ftc #dex #william poindexter

[omgdexnursey]

i will say this. i will say this. i miss nurseydex. i do miss them. i went thru the entire ao3 tag for that ship. twice. but i do miss them i miss them. dex pining depressive and nursey avoidant oblivious (inventing new personality designators). looking at each other. messing around physically. slowly getting closer but denying it the whole way down. probably yelling at each other moments before they confess slash during the confession because they are awful at this. then actually dating and being totally insufferable to everyone around them. i know this is every ship like i know this is so vague but i don’t miss a specific trope for them i just miss THEM. also chowder.

#REAL #me opening up my google drive: i miss them :( #proceeds to not finish my wips

[omgdexnursey]

Happy Birthday, Jack!

#whoops a little late on this one #omgcp #check please #ftc #jack zimmermann

[omgdexnursey]

a lullaby for waking up

also on ao3

***

Sunlight, pouring in through the cracks in the closed blinds. 

Justin is halfway between consciousness and sleep, any fragments of a dream he might remember already slipping away like loose grains of sand through open fingers. The sun shines red on the back of his eyelids. He turns onto his side, away from the sun, and is met with Adam’s face, wiped clean of tension or stress. Adam’s chest rises and falls with each slow, rhythmic breath. 

As the sun continues to climb higher in the sky, the bars of light in their room climb with it. One falls over Adam’s eyes, and his brow furrows before he opens his eyes. He shifts out of the sun’s way, blinking until his vision focuses on Justin. 

Then, a whisper: “Will you open the blinds?”

Keep reading

#self reblog #🥺🥺 i forgot about this one #some of my favorite writing i’ve done

[omgdexnursey]

coach hall and bad bob slept together at least once whilst hall was in his fourth line in the nhl days

#bob panicking and saying he thought it was a funeral is so fucking funny #omgcp #check please

[omgdexnursey]

It's super cheesy but far away by Nickelback for Jack and Bitty

I love you I loved you all along And I miss you Been far away for far too long I keep dreaming you'll be with me

There’s a postcard on the counter, and Jack freezes, staring. It’s Love from Paris in looping cursive over a photo of the Eiffel Tower and he should put down his grocery bags and he should ask Shitty if he’s seen this, if he brought it inside after class, if reading it will break Jack’s heart. 

That’s the funny thing about being in love too late. All these little things — Bitty’s name in the group chat, a Samwell hockey highlight reel, a postcard from a friend studying abroad — all these things are prickling reminders that he didn’t run fast enough, that he didn’t get to explain because he didn’t really know until it was too late, that for some people, life just goes on, and Jack’s stuck in the in-between. He’s been in love for a while now. It hasn’t gotten easier.

And now—

Jack sets his grocery bags down gently, gently. For a brief, impossible second he tells himself it’s a postcard from someone else. For a brief, heart-stuttering breath, he believes it. 

He’s gotten good at living in denial these last couple of months, that’s all. Oh, Bitty’s gonna come to a home game, and they’ll find each other in the tunnel afterward. Oh, he’ll go to a kegster at the Haus, and they’ll find a way upstairs. Oh, he’ll open the door one day, and Bitty’ll be waiting in the hallway, and they’ll kiss Paris off his lips. Jack’s still got a shot in his head. There’s still a chance in his head. 

Fuck. Okay. 

Jack picks up the card and he is — heart in his hands again, out of breath again, sprinting across the Quad again. He turns it over, and he is in love, searching an empty Haus, reading a goodbye note he’s memorized between house hunting and preseason drills and Shitty’s law school rants.

Same handwriting. Same stomach-dropping ache. Same oh, I missed it. We could’ve had a moment and I missed it.

And then he’s inhaling sharp, flipping the card over and back again. Bitty’s postcard says, I’m in Paris and I’m in love with you. I don’t wanna pretend anymore, and Jack’s so in love it hurts. 

It’s midnight in Paris, but Bitty picks up at the second ring. 

“Jack?” he says, sleep-raw and surprised, and Jack holds the card so hard it starts to bend. 

“Your postcard,” Jack says. “Do you still mean that?”

Time is a honey-slow thing; he sits on the floor, listening to Bitty breathe. He closes his eyes and leans against one of his lower cabinets and waits, imagines a postcard sailing across the ocean. It’s dated three weeks ago. Surely he still — in three weeks, surely that’s still true, surely there’s still hope—

And Bitty says, soft enough to be a whisper, “Yes.”

And Jack’s laugh is halfway to a sob and it makes no sense why he should be crying right now when he’s in love and beloved but he is and he is and he says, “I love you too,” and it’s relief but it’s also heartbreak at the same time, and it doesn’t make sense how both of those things can be true. 

“I love you, I — graduation, I ran after you,” Jack says, wiping his face, “but I missed the moment, and I’ve been wanting to — I’m sorry for missing the moment, Bits. I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to pretend.”

“You love me,” Bitty whispers. “Jack. I’m sorry for taking a semester away instead of telling you sooner.”

The pain in his voice … Jack wishes he could hold him, wishes he knew exactly what to say to soothe it away. Relief and heartbreak at the same time. They could’ve been doing this for ages if he’d only been quick enough. 

“How many weeks until you’re home?” Jack asks, opening a new tab on his phone. 

“Six,” Bitty says. It sounds like he’s trying not to cry. “Why?”

He says, “I wanna be with you,” and pauses over a direct flight. “Do you — would it be okay, if I came to be with you?”

“What? But your season—” 

“They’ll be okay without me for a week,” Jack says, then frowns. “I know that’s not a lot of time—”

“I want you to.” Bitty’s words rush together like he’s racing to get them out. “Please.”

Jack says, “I’ll be there in ten hours.” He says, “I’ll be there, I won’t miss this again.” He says, heartbreak melting away to a burning kind of joy, “I love you, Bits.”

And it’s I’ve been loving you, sweetheart and it’s I’ve missed you, and he’s packing a carry-on and his entire heart, chasing down a dream and a taxi at the same time, in love and loving and running towards it with everything he has. It’s been a long, long time. 

He watches the lights of the tarmac fade away as the plane rises higher, postcard tucked neat between the pages of his passport, love growing quietly and steadily as the distance disappears between them.

#okay. gonna be normal about this. fr this time. so normal. #omgcp #check please #zimbits #ivecarvedawoodenheart

[omgdexnursey]

Shitty Knight getting drafted is as likely as the Cubs winning the Series. He knows this, has joked about it enough, said it enough, he knows this, and yet—

The Cubs win the Series. Shitty Knight gets drafted.

#prev #syd you just Get It #brotp: m’dude! love has changed you #ivecarvedawoodenheart

[omgdexnursey]

NurseyDex AU where Dex isn’t on the team (he does robotics competitions) and Nursey is (he’s well on his way for an athletics department award), and they meet bc Dex passes the Haus mid-kegster and god I’m so happy I don’t live on this street, this is so loud, wait holy shit is he supposed to be on the roof??

#i wrote a fic inspired by this!! it’s on ao3 #nurseydex #dexnursey

[omgdexnursey]

This has been bouncing around my brain like a rock in a tumbler for a while now so please I am begging: Bobby/Alicia and "I love the way men love" as a concept

Um. Firstly I would like to say sorry

When the plane went down in San Francisco, I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes. … How people go on, and how people don’t. It was almost a year before I learned that his brother was a pilot. I can’t help it, I love the way men love. —excerpt from Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds by Ada Limón

Bobby, grey faced and sleep-heavy, head in his hands in an overstuffed hospital chair, faint, pale light washing over him from a plug-in nightlight. “I ever tell you about the night we lost my dad?”

Alicia, hair tangled and halfway wild, says, “Yes.”

In the middle of the room—

In the center, she lowers her baby into his bassinet. In the center, she guides pudgy feet through first steps, soothes puffy eyes and bleeding knees, tickles a teenager until he can’t pretend to be too cool for her anymore, tucks a boy into a hospital bed, waits by his side in case he has nightmares. 

Bobby says, “It was a storm,” and she squeezes her hands so tight. He fiddles with the nightlight, says, “He always kept a light on when I was out. So I’d know he was there.”

She says, “Bobby,” and she means did we do this?

“The night he died, I was up with the babysitter.” His voice is soft and clear in the quiet, suspended between the machine beeps keeping their son alive. “And I remember — I’ll never forget, Alicia, how proud I was, because I remembered to leave the kitchen light on.”

And she — in the moonlight, her husband is a boy waiting for his father to come home and her husband is a man waiting for his son, stuck, one finger on the nightlight from Jack’s nursery, staring at the tiles on the floor. When he’d told her, he’d said drunk driver. I was nine. She hadn’t known that about the light. She doesn’t know if she can stand it. 

Her son’s father says, “Did I,” and stops, and then clears his throat and says, “Was I too,” and when his voice breaks she just can’t help it anymore, Alicia looks at her husband and the nightlight and their son asleep in the middle of the room and she can’t help it, she sobs against his shoulder.

Bobby’s chest shakes as he holds her. Her husband cradles her to him with a one-armed embrace, his left hand firmly on the nightlight, keeping the light steady, and they stay like that. Leaning on each other, arms and bodies numb, waiting up all night for their son to come home. 

#HELLO FBI WHO ALLOWED THIS???? #syd oh my god. just. jfc i need a second #omgcp #check please #bobby/alicia #ivecarvedawoodenheart

[omgdexnursey]

They've been studying in Founders for a few hours when Nursey says, apropos of nothing, “Get me a blueberry muffin too?”

Dex and Chowder both glance up at him; Dex, who’s been tapping his right hand against the table faster and faster for the past few minutes, stills for a moment, then nods and stands.

“Yeah, sure,” he says, shutting his computer. “Chris, you want anything from Annie’s?”

“Um,” Chowder says, “when did you say you were going?”

“Oh, he didn’t,” Nursey supplies. “But he was getting all fidgety.”

Dex shrugs in confirmation.

“Okay,” says Chowder, who, until now, would have been pretty sure that Dex works in total stillness from the start to the end of a project. “I’ll take an iced latte. Wait, Cait’s last class is over soon, can I ask if she wants something too?”

“Sure,” Dex says. 

Chowder sends the text. While they wait for a response, Nursey goes back to work (on an… essay? of some sort? Chowder’s not really sure), and Dex remains standing, scrolling on his phone. Cait replies a few minutes later.

“She wants an oat milk matcha latte and a croissant,” Chowder reports.

Dex nods once, frowning. “One blueberry muffin, one iced latte, one oat milk matcha latte, and a croissant.” When no one corrects him, he nods again. “Be back soon.”

And then Chowder’s brain breaks, because Nursey, who’s clearly absorbed back in his task, raises his head a little, not even really looking away from his computer screen, and Dex steps forward and kisses him on the mouth. 

Chowder hears himself make a noise like a dying fish. They both look over at him, because the kiss was really short, and it’s over now. It wasn’t a real kiss, just a little ‘goodbye see you soon’ kiss, which Chowder can recognize because he kisses Cait that way all the time, and Bitty kisses Jack like that, and Chowder’s aunt and uncle who actually still like each other kiss each other like that. Why the fuck are Dex and Nursey kissing like that??

“Oh,” Dex says after a moment. “Uh.”

Nursey has gone back to his work, but, sensing the atmosphere, looks up. “What? Oh.”

“Is there something you guys want to tell me?” Chowder can tell his voice has gone up roughly two octaves, but he doesn’t know what to do about it.

They look about equally sheepish.

“We’re, uh, practicing?” Nursey suggests finally, at the same time that Dex says, “Nursey has a thing for blueberry muffins.”

Chowder stares at them. “Sit down,” he says to Dex, who sits. He takes a breath. “Okay. I don’t know what’s going on, but you guys have been acting weird all day. I saw you holding hands on the way to practice. And—and looking at each other. All day! A lot!” 

Dex raises an eyebrow, but Chowder plows on. “It’s like you’re together all of a sudden, but you can’t be together, because Nursey would be way smugger right now if you just got together. And you don’t seem like you just started dating. It’s more like you’ve been together for ages. But you’re both terrible at secrets.” He feels like he’s unraveling a puzzle. “And if you were keeping it a secret, why would you make it so obvious now? It doesn’t make sense! None of it—wait.” He has an idea and bites his bottom lip, considering. “Nursey, can you open Instagram?” 

“What?”

“Open Instagram,” Chowder repeats, feeling more sure by the second. “On your phone.”

“Uh,” Nursey says. He fumbles at his phone, the way he’s been fumbling it all day. Chowder watches him tap the phone screen as if expecting that to turn it on before catching himself and pressing the power button. Then it takes him almost fifteen seconds to navigate to the app: he tries to swipe up instead of sideways three separate times, and clearly doesn’t recognize the icon when he first sees it. Finally, he gets it open and says, weakly, “See? Easy.”

Dex thunks his forehead gently against the table.

“Okay,” Chowder says slowly. “Stop me if I sound crazy. But what if the reason you both clearly don’t know how to use your phones, and forgetting to go to your classes, and talking about how young we all are, is because,” he pauses, “you’ve been replaced with future versions of yourselves. When you’ve graduated and have cool new phones and have been dating for ages.”

He finishes, cringing a little at how silly it sounds out loud, but Dex and Nursey are staring at him, wide-eyed. 

“Uh,” Nursey says finally. “Yeah, that… the second one.”

Chowder blinks, then feels himself grin. “So you two do get together! That’s ‘swawesome! I’m so happy for you guys! I knew you’d make a great couple! Do you live together? Where do you live? How long have you been together? How did you start dating?” He pauses. “Wait, how far in the future are you from? Why are you here? Are me and Cait still together in your world? Are we all still friends?”

Dex and Nursey exchange a look. Chowder can’t read the conversation that passes between them, but after a moment, Dex’s shoulders drop down, and he takes Nursey’s hand in his. That makes Chowder’s brain spaz out a little: if the rest of… everything hadn’t been enough to convince Chowder that these Dex and Nursey aren’t the ones he knows, this would: he literally can’t imagine Dex willingly reaching out for affection. Especially from Nursey. Wow, the future must really be different.

“Okay, so,” Nursey says, grinning. “First thing, Dex and I aren’t dating, we’re married.” 

Dex rolls his eyes. 

“And second, here’s how it all went down.”

~~~

thanks for reading! i'll post the second part in a few days. and as usual here's the ao3 link if you want to leave me a kudos/comment :)

#‘Nursey has a thing for blueberry muffins’ screaming #omgcp #check please #nurseydex #dexnursey #fic