ok but like everyone in the team being lowkey Highkey Jealous of tango because he’s one of the few people that can get introverted whiskey to be rly engaged in a conversation (one time they watched as whiskey excitedly talks to tango about Something and INTERRUPTS HIM!!! interrupts TANGO who is asking questions 24/7 25/8 what in the God Damnd Hell…)
so like they Try So Hard to get on whiskey’s “good side” like ya bet ur ass Bitty and Rans and Holster and Lardo and everyone’s linin up to ask whiskey about his day and his classes and stuff but….. their conversations don’t Click with whiskey but then tango comes in and whiskey’s like “!!!!! tony hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and everyone slouches their shoulders in Defeat. Fuckin RIP the Samwell Mens Hockey Team u stood no chance with my boy tony
The whole goal of this night was fun. They just scored some fake IDs, practice for tomorrow was
cancelled, and one of the clubs on campus is having $10 bottomless cup night.
Whiskey’s plan was to get drunk, maybe dance a little, stop by that greasy
pizza place on the walk back to the dorm, then crash until noon. Fun.
He did not expect this night to be a hazard to his goddamn
health. And yet here he is, watching Tango dance like he’s trying to end
Whiskey’s life.
im glad we’ve established that whiskey is Fucking Gay,
waddabout whiskey getting a crush on dex… with his soft hair and freckles and secret shy smile that he tries to hide but is actually adorable……..
dex having not one but TWO chill assholes to deal with RIP poindexter
but Whiskey isn’t shy about what he wants and let’s Dex know by giving him a look over and a wink and resumes his chill
RIP IN FUCKING PIECES. nursey not so subtlely fumes from where he’s sitting next to dex, scoots closer. dex is already red and flustered, looks over at nursey, who is now Very Close and Looking at him. looks away, even MORE red and flustered. whiskey and nursey passive aggressively flirting with dex around each other, except whiskey is cool about it while nursey clumsily stumbles over his words, and his feet, and dex’s feet honestly how is he an ncaa athlete.
but let’s not forget that nursey is the clumsy one! except now he’s doing this shit on purpose. always bumping into whiskey and spilling things on him and always going “oops” with the most outrageous deadpan look on his face and meanwhile whiskey just tries to outchill him with breakfast/lunch/dinner dripping from his hair
oh fuck i didnt even think about nursey spilling stuff on whiskey lmao thank u. geez these boys needa calm down, i dont wanna assume anything about the taddies positions but i dont think whiskey and nursey will be on the ice together enough to Have Problems there. but bitty or r&h will probably confront them about why theyre so salty anyway. team bond and such. nursey avoids the question, then decides he has a uhh paper to finish. whiskey straight up starts on how nursey needs to chill, he’s not dex’s fucking keeper. and thats when they realize……. that whiskey and nursey are Fighting over a Boy…… like fucking high school students…. r&h dont know whether to laugh or do the Captainly thing and have a stern talk about maturity and communication. so they do both. at the same time.
i really love the idea that when cool, calm, collected whiskey joins the group nursery is like hell yeah this is my boy. we will Chill™. but also he can help me piss off dex because dex is cute when he’s mad and his face goes all red because dex is the worst and needs to learn how to Chill. but then when nursery tries to find whiskey he finds him with. dex. and they’re both just. Chilling™. they’re sitting outside under a tree doing homework together and talking softly and sharing laughs and nursery finally loses his (carefully constructed) chill
okay so there’s this going around which i love and adore but also please consider:
dex hitting it off right away with whiskey, for whatever reason. they become fast friends. dex kinda takes him under his wing, they spend a lot of time together.
Like, I’m totally down for the salty!bro deadpan-master aloof-as-shit Whiskey but hear me out:
Shy Whiskey. Actually maybe even painfully cautious, and not like in a cute-nervous-anxious way but in a way like maybe he came out of a walking-on-eggshells home environment. Follow his eyes –
they’re almost always focused directly on other people’s faces even when they’re not looking at him.
Like he’s watching people trying to figure out where the lines are, how they’re responding to things.
And when he talks, it’s very small questions about the language he’s supposed to use (“swawsome?”) questions about the people (“Harvard law school?”) and he demurs, “Whiskey’s fine” like he doesn’t want to rock the boat, don’t call attention.
Like yeah, maybe he’s too cool for school, but just maybe he’s a guy used to skating on the thinnest of ice and he’s holding his breath waiting to see where the cracks are gonna be.
and how his first semester of college has been so, so hard for him.
He comes from a big family, one where he’s never alone but still understands his introversion, and knows that he’s content just sitting in the corner and observing.
His hockey team was his happy place, filled with teammates and nothing more, no complicated friendships.
Now, he’s hundreds of miles away from his family. Now, instead of hockey practices being quiet, filled with only calls to pass the puck and comments from coaches; they’re raucous, filled with laughter and inside jokes he’s always on the outside of.
The team hates him for not hanging out with them, he knows this. He can sense it, their silent judgement and side-eyes even as he raises an eyebrow in return and tries to act strong, like it doesn’t bother him. It does.
He can’t tell them that he’s too busy crying in his room to spend time with them. That he only hangs out with the lax bros because his roommate is one of them, and they don’t mind him sitting in the corner and saying nothing.
Get it together, Whiskey tells himself. Stop crying. Go to the campus counselor, maybe your depression medication needs to be adjusted. Go to the campus ministry meeting, maybe someone there will accept you. Do what you need to so you can hang out with the team, so they don’t hate you more than they do already.
He makes an effort to be at the Haus more, but it’s horrible. Bitty mothers him, which only makes him miss his own mother more. There should be fresh tortillas coming from the kitchen, not pies. Ransom and Holster interrogate him; Dex and Nursey argue; Whiskey shrinks away.
Never has Whiskey been so surrounded by people but felt so alone.
It’s November when Tango finds him in the library, staring at his books, too exhausted and drained to study.
“Can I sit here?” Tango asks, bearing his own textbooks, and Whiskey can only manage a nod yes.
After twenty minutes, Tango looks between Whiskey and the pages he hasn’t touched once. “Todo bien?” he asks. “How can I help you?”
Whiskey feels his eyes well with tears. It’s the first time he’s heard Spanish spoken here. And it’s the first time anyone has asked out of concern how he’s doing.
Because everything isn’t good. But with Tango’s hand on his back, his face full of concern and support, Whiskey thinks that he might have his first friend at college.
literally so here for nursey losing his chill this year. im so here for him to become the dramatic nerd child he his on the inside. i want him to get jealous of dex being better friends with whiskey right off the bat and i want him to write twenty poems about it and grumpily stare at dex at breakfast and i want dex to be like “whats ur deal nurse maybe you should just. like–” “don’t finish that sentence dex.”
just moving along like everyone else 