#gotta adore this shit brah

[joshjohmerjammer]

I wanna like… feel this world’s shit you know…. I got Angy crossed off my bingo but I’m like Not mad the way you guys describe and I feel like I’m doing that shit wrong Like how they said I do sex wrong

Never will get that thing 😭😭

The Creature said I gotta . Feel cold now GOSH FUCK ITS COLD❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️ it’s warm up there cause like uhmmmmm shit you guys Are Almost Getting and how much it loves and adores its so warm unlike any definition you brahs got but it so fucking cool you tried!! Woaw……….. angwags

[aurodontdoit]

What We Live For...

Chapter Two: Realized.

@bisexualsabo

"So there I am, barbecue sauce on my tiddies.. and I turn to the guy saying "you missed my hams brah!"." Ace spoke, causing Autumn, Sabo and Koala to erupt with laughter. 

"Dude, that story always kills!" Sabo commented patting Aces back. 

"Right? I can't believe that even happened! The guys was shitting bricks." 

"Oh man that's insane!" Autumn howled with laughter before snorting, Autumn covered her mouth with a blush on her face, causing Ace to look at her. 

"Aud, was that a snort I heard?' he asked with a grin. 

"No. It's in your imagination right guys?" Autumn looked to Sabo and Koala. 

"I'm pretty sure I heard a snort, sis." Koala smiled knowingly while rubbing her growing belly. Sabo also nodded in agreement. 

"Oh I gotta make her laugh more!" Ace declared. 

"No dude! I hate my laugh." Autumn whined.

"Are you kidding me? Aud! Your laugh is adorable!" Ace smiled while chuckling. 

"Tell her dad jokes. She dies at those." Koala smirked. 

"Koala!" Autumn whined again before giving Ace a pleading look. 

"Hey Autumn did I tell you about the cow that jumped an electrical fence?" Ace began.

"Don't do it, man.." she warned. 

"It was an utter disaster!" Ace grinned while Autumn covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

"Not funny." She denied. Lying through her teeth. 

"Oh really? How about this one? Zoro's girlfriend is mad that he has no sense of direction… so what do you think he did?" Ace asked. 

"I dunno what?" Autumn asked. Cursing her curiosity. 

"He packed his things and right." Ace punned. 

Autumn was floored  but not a peep. 

"Ace she's very ticklish." Koala smirked. 

Autumn looked at her sister feeling betrayed. "How could you, sister?!?" 

"Muahahahha endure it Autumn! Now you must suffer!!!" She laughed evily before perking when she heard the timer for the over go off. "Ooh cookies are done." She grinned. 

Autumn blinked, amazed by Koalas 180 degree turn in mood before being tackled by Ace, who's fingers were poking and prodding her ticklish spots. 

Autumn began laughing her ass off  on the floor before Ace pinned her down laughing as well. Loving the sound of her laughter. 

"Ace! Stop! Please!! I can't breathe, I'm gonna puke!!" Autumn begged. 

Ace laughed maniacally "I don't care." He growled before Autumn fought back and pinned him, getting his sides. "you made me do this!!!" It was now Aces turn to suffer the torture of being tickled. 

Ace kept laughing until he smacked Autumn with a pillow and pinned her back down to the floor once again with a thud. 

The two were breathless and laughing before their eyes met. Their hearts raced and their faces became red as they realized the rather compromising position they were in. Ace smiled lovingly and cupped her face "see… I told you I love your laugh.." 

Autumn blushed and smiled back "you never said that?" 

Ace chuckled "now I did…" he then began to try and close the distance between them..

"Hey are we interrupting something?" Sabo smirked. 

Ace whipped around and removed himself from a pinned and flustered Autumn. 

"S-Sabo!! Do ya mind?!" Ace blushed. It was now Sabo who had the last laugh of the evening. 

Later on, when Ace drive Autumn home from Sabo and Koalas place, the two laughed and shared stories together, as the only other being who could hear those stories was the moon and stars. Autumn almost wished the night would never end so she could be with Ace a little longer..

Once they pulled into her drive way, Autumn smiled and grabbed her bag before turning to Ace. 

"Hey… thanks for inviting me out." She grinned. 

"Anytime! We're always happy to see you." Ace smiled. 

Autumn was about to walk away before she realized that she left her house keys in his car. 

"Ah shit… uhh Ace I-"

"Looking for these?" He asked with a smirk while holding up her keys as he got out of the car, and walked over to her holding them. Just as she reached out to take them, Ace pulled them away. "You're gonna have to jump for them." He teased holding them above her head.  

Autumn pouted pudding out her cheeks in detest. "Very funny Ace, now gimme my keys." She tried to grab them. 

"Ah ah ah! What's the magic word, shortstack?" Ace teased. 

"Now!" Autumn roared before tackling Ace again, and tickling his sides. The taller male laughed and laughed until he dropped her keys. "Aha! Got 'em!" She smirked triumphantly. Before noting that she was straddling his waist rather suggestively. The red haired woman blushed crimson before attempting to get up. Only for Ace to hold her hips in place. 

"A-Ace what are you doing?" She asked nervously before seeing the same warm glow in his eyes. 

Autumn melted before laying on his chest, and the two later on the front lawn watching the stars in silence… 

Autumn then looked up to Ace, wondering why his heart was a beating erratically against her ear. 

The sound of rustling leaves in the breeze could only be heard but his heartbeat was louder. 

She smiled lovingly at how peaceful he looked before she gently kissed him on the cheek. Aces eyes widened, before he looked down at her. 

"Ace… I love your laugh too." She confessed with an averted gaze and rosy complexion. 

[mamashitty]

Samwell Elementary Chapter 7

a new pov this time around. y’all can read the story here on my tumblr or on my ao3.

Shitty is seated cross-legged on the floor in Maisie’s room. She is in the process of figuring out how to braid his epic flow. She pulls his hair a lot less than Jack does, Shitty notices and files that information away for later. It is always good to stock up on chirping material for the future. Except, just as Shitty is musing over that, Maisie tugs his hair back rather painfully, and Shitty bites back a wince that his badass hockey niece does not even notice.

“Uncle Crappy?” Maisie asks.

“What is it, Corndog?”

“Do you think Mom is going to love me less after the baby is born?” It is not very often that Shitty hears the fear in Maisie’s voice. Her whole life she seems to face any situation head-on. She is always grabbing life by the horns. He finds himself frowning, not liking the question, and not liking that this is a worry that Maisie has floating around in her adorable little head. He tilts his head back so that he can look at her. He wonders if she has asked Jack or Camilla this question yet, or if he is the first one. He forces himself to flash her a smile and then he is sticking his tongue out her. Maisie lets out a giggle, though it sounds forced to his ears.

“Maisie, your Mom is going to love you the same as she does now, brah.” He says, putting as much conviction into his voice as possible, and hoping that Maisie hears it and understands it. Maisie is the first kid that he has spent any real amount of time with, she’s the first one he proudly calls a niece. The first one he gets to be some form of Uncle to. This feels a bit like a test to him, a test he is really just putting on his own shoulders. He does not want to fuck this up. He wants and needs Maisie to know that she can always come to him, no matter what the problem or concern is. He loves this little girl. She is a perfect mix of Jack and Camilla. And completely her own person too. Shitty remembers clearly her as a baby, and the first time he babysat her, and how she got mad. She was somewhere between six and nine months, no longer that scary kind of blob that newborns are, something a bit more sturdy and something that could move. He remembers she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and nothing he did could cheer her up. He was on the verge of panic calling Jack and Camilla when she reached up to grab his sunglasses and chew on them. She began to laugh. And Shitty, his heart still racing, had started to laugh too. Jack and Camilla had come home to Shitty and Maisie just shouting and laughing at each other. They had really connected after that, even though Shitty had been smitten with her the first time he saw her.

“Are you sure?” Maisie asks, her voice quiet. Shitty reaches behind him, tugging Maisie onto his lap and giving her a tight hug. She melts into it and her arms wrap around his neck.

“I am positive, Maisie-Daze,” Shitty says, before adding. “Every time I meet a new friend, I don’t love my other friends any less. Love has a way of growing, brah. Your Mom and Steve will love you and your brother or sister. And you are going to love them too, and be the best big sister in the fucking universe,” Shitty knows better than to swear in front of Maisie like that. He has had practice with it, after all. But he does it on purpose because something tells him, Maisie will like it.

And she does, she lets out a giggle as soon as he lets the f-bomb drop. “Uncle Crappy!” She admonishes him through giggles. When they subside, she pulls her head back to look at him. “But are you sure?” She asks, and he hears a hint of a quiver in her voice.

“I am abso-fucking-lutely certain, Corndog. Neither one of your parents will ever love you any less than they love you now. And if you don’t believe your Uncle Crappy, you should ask your Mom.” Shitty finishes, vaguely wondering if he said the correct things or not. Hoping that he did. He watches Maisie and she looks like she is really mulling over what he said. He watches her nod her head.

“Okay, Uncle Crappy. You swore again!” She adds, laughing.

“Please don’t tell your Papa,” Shitty jokes, before adding. “And, remember, you can always come talk to me if you need to, Corndog. Thank you for talking to me about this,” he finishes. He has always spoken to Maisie like she was a little adult. Not so much in the content of his words, that he usually keeps as kid-friendly as possible, but just in the way he talks to her. Shitty isn’t one for higher-pitched voices and dumbing down his speech for kids. He thinks Maisie appreciates it.

“Okay,” Maisie says, and he feels like he is losing her a bit now, that she is shifting from serious mode and wanting to get back into fun mode. She hops off of his lap. “Wanna play hide and seek?” She asks, and Shitty grins.

“Heck yes, I do!”

It is a few hours later. and Jack is finally home. Maisie is sleeping, Shitty had had to do bedtime. He had fun with it though, he read her three books for bedtime even though her parents usually just read one. He and Jack are seated on the couch in the living room. Shitty had already filled Jack in about Maisie’s frankly heartbreaking question. They had talked about it some and he knows Jack will talk to her about it tomorrow. He had sent Camilla a text message too about it. He feels like that was the right course of action. Silence has fallen between the two friends. Shitty is only half paying attention to the documentary that Jack put on. He’s nursing a beer, knowing that it is getting that time when he should leave. Jack’s bedtime is quickly approaching, after all.

“So, you coming to the Halloween party this year?” Shitty broaches, affecting as much nonchalance as he can. Shitty knows Jack does not have a game that night. He also knows that Maisie will be staying the night over at Camilla’s.

“I don’t know, Shits,” Jack says after a beat and Shitty wonders if Jack’s mind had immediately gone to Bitty or not. He decides it is time to go for broke.

“You’ll miss the costume that Bitty is wearing. It is going to be a beaut,” Out of the corner of his eye, because Shitty can be smooth and not outright stare at his best friend, he sees Jack tense for a moment and then relax.

“Really? Eh, that is nice.” Shitty notes that Jack’s attempt at nonchalance pales compared to his. Shitty shifts his position on the couch so that he can stare his friend down.

“Jackie-Jack,” Shitty says, adopting as firm a voice as he can. “You like him. You should come and hang out with him outside of school and outside of those five-minute chats you bros have before you and I go jogging.” He sees Jack opening his mouth, likely to denydenydeny. Shitty interrupts. “Brah, I have seen how you look at him and those coffees you bring him?” Shitty decides not to mention the looks he has seen Jack give Bitty when Bitty is wearing that Falconer's shirt. Jack is not subtle. Jack is also frowning now and Shitty only feels a teeny bit guilty about that.

“Shitty, even if I do find him attractive and even if I do enjoy talking with him… he’s Maisie’s teacher. That seems inappropriate, plus he just got out of a relationship with someone,” Jack is hedging. Shitty supposes his concerns are somewhat valid but they get in the way of Shitty’s dream. The dream that two of his best bros might actually be able to find happiness together. Jack is not subtle in his looks and neither is Bitty. Shitty can fucking taste the pine between the two of them.

“Jack, Trevor was a fucking douche,” Shitty starts with because that is easy. “Their relationship… it was not… well, it was not awful but also not the best. And Bitty is the one who gets to judge whether or not it is too soon, but you gotta’ give him a chance to do that. The teacher thing… maybe it is a little inappropriate. But, brah, you like him. I haven’t seen you like this with anyone in a long time. You deserve to be happy. And, also, it is just a party.” Shitty finishes.

Jack stays quiet for a while, likely mulling it all over. “I will think about it, Shits.”

“Sweet!” Shitty exclaims and he clumsily closes the gap between the two of them on the couch and smacks a wet kiss on Jack’s cheek.

Shitty and Bitty are seated at the kitchen island. Shitty has bravely volunteered as taste-tester. Bittle wants all the treats he is making for the Halloween party to be perfect. He claims half of what Shitty has eaten today is just not good enough, but Shitty, oh Shitty he begs to differ. And has countless times but Bitty just lets out a huff and reworks the recipes. Shitty is certain he will gain fifty pounds tonight alone, and he does not mind one iota.

“I invited Jack to the Halloween party. Brah, I invite him every year but I think this year he might actually come,” Shitty says, hopefully as smoothly as he wants it to be. He might be just a little high but nothing that he can’t function with. Nothing that impairs his taste buds any, a point he has argued over and over with Bitty over the course of the night.

“Jack? He won’t be busy with Maisie and Camilla?” Bitty asks, and there seems to be a strange tone to Eric’s voice and fuck maybe Shitty is higher than he realized because he is having a difficult time deciphering what that tone means.

“He has plans to go with them for trick or treating and then no plans. No game or anything,” Shitty explains and he notices the way Bitty tenses up, pausing in whatever it is he is doing to the baked goods. Probably something to make them epically delicious. Shitty can feel his mouth start to salivate at the thought of what those baked goods will taste like. He wants them in his mouth and down his belly stat! Wait, he is supposed to be focusing on Bitty and Jack and trying to encourage one of them to make maybe think about making the move on the other. In their own time, of course, but hopefully, that own time will be sooner rather than later.

“Seems kind of strange that he won’t be spending the night with them, doesn’t it?” Bitty asks and there is that tone again. Annoyance? Maybe even anger. Bitty’s Georgian twang has gotten thicker. Shitty frowns.

“Not really? I mean Maisie has a bedtime and they might let her stay up a little later because it is Halloween but, she’ll go to bed with plenty of time for Jack to come out and play. And Camilla is probably going to want to spend the evening with Steve, brah.” Shitty explains, hoping that settles whatever concern is in Bitty’s mind. He wonders if Bitty has the same concerns as Jack, the whole appropriateness thing with being Maisie’s teacher. This whole plan of his, half-baked though it is, suddenly seems more complicated if that is the case.

“Shitty. If Jack decides to come to a party and not spend his free evening with his pregnant wife then he is not the sweet man he acts like,” and Shitty wonders if the weed he smoked broke his brain some.

“Pregnant wife? Bro, no. Camilla and Jack are divorced. She’s with Steve and the kid is Steve’s, not Jack’s and…” and suddenly Shitty is laughing, harder than is probably warranted given the situation. Bitty spins on his heels to stare at him and Shitty notices how red his face is. He feels guilty about laughing and tries to stop. He manages to finally stop the laughter and sort of curses the weed gods for making him so giggly. It isn’t right laughing at Bitty right now even if it is kind of funny. Suddenly, the vague comments he has made in the past two months are starting to add up in Shitty’s head.

“Brah, did you think Jack was some kind of like… nice asshole? He’s single as fuck,” and Bitty is definitely Jack’s type but Shitty stops himself from saying that. Bitty is worrying his lower lip something fierce. He looks on the verge of saying something when the timer on the oven dings. He busies himself with getting the baked goods out of it and Shitty watches him, only pausing in his watching, to spin on the barstool for a moment, before he returns to just staring at his friend. Probably creeper level of staring.

“I was a little confused. Lord, Shitty. The man keeps bringing me coffees whenever he drops Maisie off. He always seems so interested in what I have to say, and I could not tell at first if he was just being polite or if it was something more. And then if it was something more that was just wrong because I thought he was with Camilla,” and Bitty lets out a groan. “I probably embarrassed myself around him so many times.” He watches as Bitty hides his face in his hands.

“Bitty, Bits… don’t worry. Jack probably never noticed you saying or doing anything embarrassing,” and if he did, Shitty thinks silently, he probably did not mind. Bitty is silent for a few minutes.

“I hope he comes,” he says, quietly and Shitty breaks out into a grin.

[gutsybitsies]

bakery au (oldie but a goodie)

Part 1

“He hates me,” Bitty moaned, flopping on his couch. Holster was raiding his kitchen, listening to his rant about Jack Zimmermann.

“I don’t even know what I did wrong! Maybe it was because I told him that he played a hard game last night the first time he came into the bakery? All he does is glare at me and say stuff like ‘Eric, the coffee is too sweet,’ or ‘Eric, you need more protein.’”

“Brah, maybe Zimmermann just has a total resting bitch face,” said Holster as he pulled out a leftover pie from Bitty’s fridge. “Guy seems fucking intense. At least he’s good for business.”

“He keeps on glaring at me! And he comes in, like, three times a week. Orders a coffee and just drinks it in his corner, ignores my attempts at conversation even though, mind you, he has already said some pretty rude stuff!”

“The guy’s a celebrity, he probably has his head so far in his ass and doesn’t care about shit, and also just wants some privacy. Bits, you haven’t been taking pictures of him and posting it on twitter have you?” Holster asked, alarmed.

Bitty gasped, “Adam Birkholtz! I would never!”

“Then just treat him like an antisocial customer, he can’t be the only one going to the bakery who doesn’t want conversation and just wants service and food,” Holster said, dropping down next to Bitty on the couch with two tins of pie.

“I know,” Bitty sighs. “He’s just...so handsome. And he was so nice to Nursey when that fool tripped. And he tips generously. And he’s just so gorgeous, even when he’s glaring at me and speaking in grunts whenever I ask him how his day has been. I just want him to like me!”

Holster navigated the TV to a rerun of Golden Girls and handed Bitty one of the pie tins. “I think that’s your problem. You’re an amazing person, Bits, but maybe you can be a bit too friendly for resting bitch face robozoid Zimmermann. Maybe stop asking him about his day and just let him chill.”

Bitty stayed silent for a while before turning to Holster. “You don’t think it’s because I look...you know.”

“What?” Holster asked, spraying pie over Bitty’s nice floor (it’s hardwood because he knew how his friends are like, and it’s so much easier cleaning liquor and other fluids off of hardwood floor).

“Gay,” Bitty whispered.

Holster considered that for a moment. “Nah, I don’t think so. Anyway, Ransom would’ve mentioned it.”

“You’re right,” Bitty said. “That just means it’s something personal with me.”

“Brah, you can’t make everyone like you, man,” Holster said.

“That’s easy to say from someone who hates everyone,” Bitty said.

“I don’t hate everyone, I’m just in a constant state of mild annoyance at a majority of the population. For example, you’re excluded from that demographic.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

Holster glanced at Bitty, shifting a little. Alarms started ringing in Bitty’s head.

“No. Holster. Bad boy. Stay there. No.”

“Too late!” Holster flung his empty tin away and tackled Bitty. “It’s time for bro cuddles!”

“Adam Birkholtz!”

“This is just to show how much I love you, brah!”

“I don’t want your friendship anymore!!”

Jack had a routine, usually governed by whatever calendar event Georgia’s assistant hands him and the rest of the team. Recently, his routine underwent a change the moment he first entered a small bakery around ten blocks away from where he lived. It had a homey atmosphere, but still managed to look adorable and modern. There were a few customers in line already, and a few more sitting down on cute tables and eating breakfast.

He had rushed out of bed that morning, upset about a phone call with his father the night before and hadn’t had any breakfast. Ransom had always said stuff about finding new places to eat at, so Jack figured he’d take a risk with the one shop that caught his eyes.

“Good morning! How’s your day been!” Before he knew it, Jack was at the front of the line and a handsome young man was beaming up at him. He had warm brown eyes and peeling skin on his nose, with a dash of pale, almost imperceptible freckles dusting his face.

“Um.” Jack replied.

“Well, what would you like today, mister?” The young man, Eric (and his name tag was also so fucking cute), asked.

“Coffee,” Jack spit out.

“Anything else with your coffee, sir?”

“Um,” Jack said again. His vocabulary was immensely impaired at the sight of Eric’s pearly whites.

“Very well sir, here’s your order number and it’ll be ready in a jiffy!”

Jack wondered if Eric recognized him, the other patrons certainly haven’t. They were either in a hurry or too tired and engrossed in their own business. Maybe Eric didn’t watch hockey? Jack knew that Poots would humble brag about being a hockey player to get dates, but he never felt comfortable about that sort of behavior.

“Number 45!” A clear voice called.

Jack turned and accepted his coffee from a tall, sleepy looking man. When he turned to leave, he heard another voice call out to him.

“It was a hard game last night, Mr. Zimmermann, but you played really well! We’re all rooting for you!” It was Eric, smiling and waving at him.

“Um.” Jack said. Think! Say something! Say anything! Do something!!!! “You should really wear sunscreen unless you want skin cancer.” What the fuck.

At the sight of Eric’s confused face, Jack hightailed out of the bakery and tried to push the whole embarrassing experience out of his head.

That was supposed to be the end of that. But Jack found himself standing at the entrance of the store a few days later. There were a few customers at the shop, but no one on line at the register. A familiar sleepy looking young man was manning it, and there were no signs of Eric.

Good, Jack thought. He just wants a cup of good coffee and maybe a croissant. No need to embarrass himself in front of a stranger.

He walked into the store, and browsed the pastry selection. Jack didn’t eat sweets often, or at all. But Nate said that today can be a cheat day, so he can have a slice of cake.

“Can I have a slice of key lime cake and a coffee, please?” He asked the man, Derek.

“Right on,” Derek replied. What happened next happened fast. One moment Derek was walking over to get a slice of cake out, and the next moment he’d tripped and smashed his face into the counter, fell on the floor, and was clutching his nose.

“What in tarnation is that noise?” From a door located behind the counter, Eric rushed out and gasped at the sight of Derek on the floor. “Nursey! Oh sweetheart, are you okay?”

A few of the other patrons walked over to see what was happening.

“Should I call an ambulance?” A kind looking old woman asked.

“No, no, I’m fine,” said Derek. “Think I just sprained my ankle and bruised my face.”

Eric felt Derek’s nose, the other man winced but stayed still.

“Good thing is that you don’t have a broken nose. I am so terribly sorry for this commotion, y’all!” Eric apologized to the customers. “We have this all under control. Derek, I’m going to call Chowder and have him pick you up, okay?”

“What? That’s bullshit, I can still work.”

“Honey, your ankle is the size of a tennis ball.”

“I can take him to the hospital,” Jack offered. Both Derek and Eric looked up at him in surprise. “I’m free this afternoon, I can drive him over. It’s partly my fault he’s injured, he tripped when he was getting my order.”

“You will do no such thing, mister. But I’m awfully touched that you offered.” Eric smiled at him, and Jack wondered if he himself needed a checkup at the hospital because his heart was acting strange. “No, I’m going to call someone and pick up this walking disaster-”

“Hey,” Derek complained.

“-this walking disaster, and he’ll be taken care of by his overprotective roommates. And unless you’re feeling miraculously fine later,” Eric said to Derek. “Take tomorrow off, too. Wait just one moment, Mr. Zimmermann!” He led Derek into the backroom and then popped back out. “What was your order again?”

Jack was back in the bakery two days later, this time a little down when he found out that Eric wasn’t in.

“Um, Eric’s not here today?” He asked Derek, who was moving with a slight limp.

“Nah, he’s visiting our flour suppliers. Gotta make that cake from something, y’know?”

“Oh.” Crestfallen, Jack took his coffee and cake and walked back to his apartment in a strange, morose mood.

The fourth time Jack was in the bakery was probably when he started mentally compartmentalizing the visits into his routine. Jack liked the way that Eric smiled at him and asked him about his day, even though Jack was usually too tongue tied to do anything but grunt “Mmhm” roughly and then turn tail to hide in a corner table of the place.

“Good morning! What would you like today?” Eric would ask him.

“Coffee and a ham and egg sandwich,” were Jack’s usual reply.

“Coffee and a Key Lime Cake,” were his responses when he was on a cheat day.

“Mmhm,” were used whenever Eric asked him how his day went.

Small throaty grunts were whenever Eric started talking about his own day and what he had planned for the bakery.

“Oh, sorry I must be always annoying you with this talk, it’s just me, I’m a natural born chatterbox!” Were variations of what Eric said, apologizing for talking too much, then proceeding to chatter on and on about the different types of apples and pears used in his pies.

The worst responses, however, were when Jack tried to say something witty and funny to Eric in response to whatever Eric said, and they would backfire so terribly and he would be so embarrassed he almost sprinted away from the bakery.

“You’ve never tried one of my pies before, you really should order one today!” Eric had told him one day.

“No thanks,” Jack said. Then, panicking at the fact that Eric was now looking directly at him instead of all those moments when Eric talked to him but was busy with making coffee and orders, he blurted out, “You need to eat more protein.”

“Excuse me?” For once, Eric seemed a bit offended at what Jack said.

“Um. It’s good for you.” Without another word, Jack grabbed his coffee and sandwich and dashed out the door. He didn’t know why his heart is beating so fast, maybe it was because of how he kept on embarrassing himself in front of Eric. He couldn’t help it. For some reason Jack was hyperaware of himself in front of Eric, afraid that whatever he said would be terrible, and whenever he said anything it became a self fulfilling prophecy of embarrassment.

The day of American Thanksgiving, Jack walked into the bakery after two weeks out on a roadie. He almost didn’t expect to see Eric, because he figured he’d be spending that holiday down in Georgia. But there Eric was, twiddling his fingers in an bakery unusually empty of customers.

“Good morning! How can I help you?” He smiled at Jack, and Jack knew it was a good idea to come here immediately after a roadie. Eric made him feel warm and stable, and like he’d come home. 

“Coffee and a ham and egg sandwich please,” Jack said. He waited for Eric’s usual barrage of words. Maybe he’ll tell him why the bakery was so empty, or why he wasn’t home for Thanksgiving.

The words didn’t come. Eric stayed quiet the whole time, except for a perfunctory “Enjoy your meal!” when he handed Jack his order.

Maybe it was an off day, Jack mused, as he tried to catch Eric from the corner of his eye.

But it wasn’t just one off day. Eric stopped asking him how his days went, and stopped rambling at him about how his own day went and what kind of new recipe he was looking at. Jack noticed that Eric was speaking like normal to the other regulars, but he himself only had the standard customer service “Good day!” and “Enjoy your meal!” He still smiled at Jack genuinely, but the rest was. Short. Did he catch on to how terrible Jack was being? Did Jack say something wrong?

Well.

Jack remembered all the things he had said to Eric.

“This is too sweet.” When he tried to chirp him about a sweet tooth.

“I only listen to John Mayer and that’s it. Who’s Beyoncé?" When he tried to say something about music.

“You shouldn’t ask a professional athlete to eat so many empty calories.” When he tried to joke about his cheat day.

Okay then.

He said a lot of things wrong.

It was okay, since Jack only went to Bitty’s Bites because Eric was a soothing presence and their coffee was amazing. Eric doesn’t need to be talking to Jack. Eric can talk to other people and Jack can listen in like a creep and think about how good he looks in that apron and bask in his presence indirectly.

Jack groaned and let his head fall against his steering wheel. He glanced at the coffee in his cup holder and the empty sandwich wrapper.

Pull yourself together.

[nothingnicetosaysitnexttome]

90 Day Fiance: Season 7, Episode 4

Ooooh chile. The biggest takeaways for me this episode were thank goodness for Anny/Robert and Anna/Mursel b/c the rest of y’all sleeping on your responsibility to entertain. Let’s start with the worst and get to the best and by best I mean (5 dumpster fires out of 5 dumpster fires)

MIKE and NATALIE

We start with Mike leaving his beloved ranch in RURAL Washington state to the best side character to emerge on this show-Beau. Seriously his 10 seconds on screen was the highlight of this reel. We then flash to Natalie and her two friends in Ukraine (umm...have I been saying it wrong for years by saying-the Ukraine?) who are imitating human women going shopping. No joke, this is some earth girls are easy shit but with a gender swap. When Natalie yelled “vote!” on the dress to her two friends I had to check if they were blinking. We then get some background on Natalie via ‘exposition friend’ who she knows from work. Okay, big request to 90 day, alongside their country can you please put their profession? Everyone always says “job” “work” I NEED to know what these people are paid to do. Thank you, TLC. Natalie used to be married to a man who owned a big business. He could spoil her and give her all she wants. I needed them to call in a shady editor over from the early Rupaul’s Drag Race series to pull up some footage of the ranch. Something tells me Natalie gon be bustin out

We also hear Natalie talk about how Mike had a weight issue and that was important to her because she is such an active person. Judging by the pictures they were showing before I think Mike’s in for some serious body-shaming. He arrives and says “look at my cute little girl” and I almost vommed. Then he described her in the bedroom for a solid 60 seconds going through the entire motions of acting out a tigress and I projectile vomited everywhere. No surface in this house was left untouched. He then says hi to her mom who adores him even though neither of them can speak a word to each other and I suspect it is because the mom knows this man is her daughter’s ticket out of this home and they head off to play tigress meets the... I can’t I can. not.

MICHAEL and JULIANA

Unless I blacked out which -let’s be real is possible-they were in this episode for a solid three minutes. The kids continue to bring on wisdom well beyond their years and Juliana thinks it is a smart idea to style her hair and the daughter’s hair the same. The princess Leigh do only makes her look even younger. The kid’s bi-o-log-i-cal mother shows up and iconically states: “some women may be intimidated by someone so young, so tall, so skinny, so gorgeous, so intelligent, so traveled but I don’t have time for that.” And I said let the preacher say amen! She then says to Juliana there will be no parenting for you which- if I was 20- I’d be like fine with me brah y’all have it. I take “not mothering” to mean I’m never gonna discipline these kids, pay for anything they gotta do, and when they wanna stay up all night cool step-not mom is gonna allow it.

BLAKE and JASMIN

So we are introduced to Blake and Jasmin. It was very hard to focus because this man had straight-up JT NYSYNC bleached to high heavens Ramen hair on top and a Michael B Jordan beard in black on the bottom. But he starts describing going on a dating app after getting divorced at a young age and I’m like this looks promising. They’re about the same age, they’re both attractive, she comes from Finland which people are not fleeing in droves (in fact girl can I get trade citizenship with you- don’t ask why- it rhymes with Rump) and then a couple red flags come in each with a full music stop. The first is that this grown man lives with his parents which seems to be this season’s theme. As soon as he said that I was like hold up- hold the phone. And this is not a Norman Bates situation like Colt-e and Larissa where he is living there because his mom is his everything. This is a-I’m poor as hell and this “music thing” is me “uploading tik toks on the regular thing.” So how is he paying for this visa? The second was that Jasmin’s sister won the green card lottery and lives ten mins from Blake’s house.This got me thinking back to the  dating app they met on like hold up-he said he didn’t realize she didn’t even live in America which means this feisty minx right here probably put up like a 10-mile radius around her sister’s house. Maaaan, don’t hate the playa hate the game. Annnyyywaaay the sister and Blake drive to the airport together and the sister seems like she is not quite present. She mentions being excited to get to know Blake followed by him asking her several questions and her with the lights on, but no one home. I was very curious if Jasmin was going to have the same energy and surprise! She does. When they get back to the hotel room he says they have some alone time what should they do and she responds “shower and sleep” SAVAGE.

TANIA and SYNGIN

Now Tania pulls a move here that is a classic 90-day fiance guaranteed fail. As someone who has been watching the series since day 1 you never spend the first few days in a place waaaay better than the nowherelseville you live in. So after taking him to NY to stay in a hotel they go to CT to her mom’s shed. That’s no shade to CT but you could take me to a shed in the south of France and I’d be like I’m out. She should’ve had them share a room in an elderly home for a few days and been like surprise! private shed! On top of that she told him it was ready and it ain’t. And on top on top of that she is bossing him around to get the work done as fast as possible exactly how she wants it. If I was Syngin, I would’ve gone straight: 

and been like if we living in a shed it’s Syngin’s shed, Syngin’s rules, and Syngin’s way of life. But instead, they have an explosive fight on day 4, which is always great when you have 90 days.

ROBERT and ANNY

Now this couple is taking me on the roller coaster I was promised. This is the enterTAINTment a bitch needs! One minute I’m team Robert, the next minute I’m team Anny (to be fair I am like 85% Team Robert but you get the point). So it starts off with them going off to meet Bryson’s grandparents. The mom is out of the picture but the grandparents are not and Anny is so upset about it. I am like why is she acting so weird about this and saying they need to leave the past in the past.

Then grandma shows up....

and grandma is fooooooooiiiiiiine as all hell. I was like ooohhhh got it Anny, got it. Also, is Bryson’s mom 12? Nana Stephanie proceeds to have a very rational- if not a little invasive -conversation with Anny who is not having her at all. She is at an 11 straight out the gate. And when Stephanie reveals herself to be a porn star (Diamond Foxxx-you’re welcome) Anny is all that’s disgusting she’s uneducated. And that is some bullshit. If Stephanie wants to be a porn star, by all means, do you. Robert then takes Anny to a restaurant when she really should be in bed with some Theraflu. In this hoarse voice, Anny pulls out a bunch of screenshots of Robert’s exes on his fbook. I'm on the fence on this one. For the most part, I think it's fine if you keep up pics from old relationships but I suppose I could see why it might bother someone. Then Robert reveals Bryson is not his only child. Oh no-the man has FIVE children by four different women. That was a full mic-drop moment for me. I was like hey umm DJ run that back. Did you say five? Four baby-mamas? And where are these children?  They have been portraying this man as this savior single father and did not let us know about the other kids until episode FOUR. Well done, TLC. You go for that Emmy.

ANNA and MURSEL

With this couple I simply cannot. I have zero idea what this man’s motivations are. He does not seem into Americans or American culture and he does not seem into Anna. Is he a hostage? Honestly, I do not know. They go on a bee-keeping adventure which for them is foreplay but the man is shading Anna’s bee-keeping abilities!

She is trying to use this whole experience to set off a night with some bubbly and Boyz II men playing and he is not getting it. at. all. because neither of them understands a word the other one says. She’s all-”does my bee-keeping make you horny baby?” and he's like “bees, yes.” They’re then on their way to what I think is her bridal shower and she is telling him to talk to her friends but she literally has to hand motion “talk.” He arrives and understands nothing and no one commenting on how in Turkey only men have bachelor parties. Oh my non-alcohol drinking friend you have yet to see a bachelorette party. All her friends are confused because these two can barely communicate like even on the most basic of levels. In terms of relationships via google translator, I would put them BELOW Paul and Karine and that's a low ass standard.

So that is this week’s episode of 90 day fiancee! RIP to Angela and Michael and Sasha and Emily because they were not shown for a single second. We keep you in our prayers.

[rio-geometro]

surveys

1. Do you make your bed everyday? not really “make” in the sense that i fold everything all perfect and set the pillows up and smooth it out. but i do kinda out the blanket flat just so i can sit things on the bed and use it as a living space. it also helps to keep dirt and leaves and crumbs out of the actual sheets! vanlife pro tip! also i love to have the blankets make sense when im sleeping haha.

2. What's your favorite​ number? when i was a kid i loved the number 3. i always wanted it on my soccer jerseys. i think i only got it once, during one indoor soccer season where our shirts were sponsored by tully’s restaurant. ugly ass navy blue and red shirts. but i did get 3.

3. What is your dream job? i would say illustration but i actually don’t think that would be a dream job. at least not in the 9-5 sense. i might like to create my own project and sell it, but i don’t know if i’d like drawing other people’s stuff 8 hours a day. what i might actually like to do is be a professional level fiddler, play gigs in bands and solo and just tour the world playing music! but that’s a long way off. i need a lot more practice... 4. If you could, would you go back to school? maybe. if it was free, and i had the means, maybe i would go back to be a dentist! haha. i know so many people with shitty teeth and no means of getting them fixed. i could be a traveling dentist out of my van! hmm, this is starting to sound somehow illegal. but whatever. i could help people!

5. Can you parallel park? yeah, i’ve honed that skill after years of living in cars and parking in different cities. i can even park my huge ass van! though sometimes it takes a few tries to get it lined up right.

6. A job you had which people would be shocked that you had? i don’t think i’ve had any “shocking” jobs. the typical bus boy, waitress, cook stuff. um. it might shock people that i was a teaching assistant and then a substitute teacher in public schools, haha. with carabeeners in my ears and a long dreadlock down my back. i can’t believe they let me in there with the kids, haha. crazy hippy person. the kids didn’t even know if i was a male or female half the time and they are not shy about asking or making a big fuss about that. but yet they thought of me as the “Cool” teacher because i pretty much didn’t care what they said, i had a smart ass thing to throw back at them. good. kids needs exposure to people they can’t pigeonhole, haha.

7. Do you think aliens are real? yeah, sure. i guess it would be less of a chance that they aren’t real, right? i’d still be surprised to see aliens myself, though. my brain would need a minute to recalibrate reality.

8. Can you drive a stick shift? yeah, i would think. though my van is automatic and i haven’t drive one in like a year. all of my cars previous to this van were stick shift so i think it’s gotta be muscle memory by now, haha.

9. Guilty pleasure? johnny clegg’s newer albums? haha. they are so cheesy but adorable. he’s a huge nerd dad.

10. Tattoos? two, i think? haha. one i just got cause a friend asked me to come with her to the tattoo shop. she was nervous. so i got one along with her! it was in college, whatever right? it was a green vine around my arm. the other i also got with a friend, haha! it’s a spider, but it’s really hard to see because i requested it to be done only slightly darker than skintone. you can only see it if you know where to look. i want more but i am broke.

11. Favorite Film? these days my favorite movies are Latcho Drom, Kung-Fu Hustle, Gangs of New York, the Red Violin, and Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. probably a few others i’m forgetting. when i was a kid it was Secret of NIMH, Jurassic Park, and Toy Story haha.

12. Things people do that makes you mad? haha wow. the last person had written pretty much the same thing i would right. touching without permission being one of them. and treating me like i’m an idiot instead of realizing when there is a miscommunication. being emotionally manipulative or demanding to me.

13. Fear? hate and bigotry and misunderstanding. and the fact that there are people out there who really are malevolent, and we really do have to fight them... i don’t want to fight. i also fear despair. and fear. i fear fear. hah.

14. Favorite childhood game? if we’re talking neighborhood games, ghost in the graveyard! we played with the lamp post on the street as the base. one team guarded the base while the rest of the people were ghosts trying to get on base. some of the base guard were hunters and came out into the woods after the ghosts. i forget the rest of the rules but it sure was fun.

15. Do you talk to yourself? too much.

16. Do you like doing puzzles? sudoku all night, brah.

17. Favorite music? i enjoy so many types of music i don’t even know how to list them here. i like anything from ambient space “Deep listening” stuff all the way to super eurobeat and american traditional folk music. shit, haha. i don’t know!!

18. Tea or Coffee? I usually drink one cup of coffee in the first part of the day and one cup of tea in the second part of the day, haha.

19. First thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? i don’t remember if i ever really had a solid idea of what i wanted to be. i guess that makes sense given that i seem to be nothing but a mishmash of skills and job experience, now. haha.

Play along... copy and paste it onto your wall and let your friends learn a little about you.

[guzma-reader-hell]

So, what if Guz has a thing for chubby/over weight girls, but since he lives on a beach island, they're hard to come by, and completely falls head over heels for the new chick on the island. The grunt girls don't get it and think it's a joke so they pick on her and take her Galvantula after a few very difficult attempts. Guzma is furious and there's hell to pay but he's still a nervous faux confident dork when trying to return him to her.

I wanted to make this a little happier. so only one grunt makes fun of you. The other ones including Guzma just wanna smash. (and go out with you)

...

“Hmmmmooooooooh my god! Baby girl’s got it goin’ on wit thatbooty eatin’ up them lil’ shorts!”

“Right?! Brah how the shit we gonna talk to baby girl? Gottathink a somethin’ original. Somethin’ that’ll make her all hot ‘n bothered!”

The grunts had Guzma at “booty eatin’ up them lil’ shorts”,which for various reasons got his attention and caused him to lean over thedecrepit railing a little further to hear what the two boys at the bottom ofthe staircase were saying. Guzma was on the rebound. One of the girl gruntswith stringy pink hair hadn’t been wifey material. Too high strung for histaste, and so skinny and obsessed with her looks that it had tired him outtrying to reassure her after a while. But when she hit him after he disagreedwith her that had been the final straw. So despite the tears and text messagesbegging him to get back together with her, Guzma was on the lookout for anotherpiece of ass.

Shame he couldn’t find anyone to make it worthwhile. Hewatched with a snarl on his face as the grunts below were gesticulating wildly,talking about a “super cute shorty” that had been at the malasada shop in MalieCity. You were supposedly a new face compared to the same old locals they sawday in and day out, had been feeding a dry malasada to your spider pokemon thatGuzma assumed was an Ariados until he heard:

“Nah man, that ain’t no weird Ariados like Boss Man got.” Saidone. “That’s a Galvantula.”

“Hoooooh boy, God been reading my dreams.” Moaned the other.“The hell I gotta do to get a piece of that thick, strong Pokémon trainer ass?I’d give anything for her to talk to me… Totally fucked it up when she lookedat me an’ I threw West side at her!”

“ ‘s one a them reflexes.” Replied the other, patting hisfriend’s shoulder. “She come up to me wantin’ to know where the library was at ‘nI fuckin’ axed her if she wanted to battle! Wiped the floor with my sorry assusing like two bug Pokémon, but she put my money in her back pocket! Like tothink that’s kinda the same thing as touchin’ that juicy booty a hers.”

Now he was extremely interested. In fact Guzma was justabout to go downstairs and ask the boys where they’d last seen you when anothergrunt, couldn’t have been more than thirteen, came running at them with arather cute little purse in the shape of a watermelon.

“Look guys!” he squeaked. “Got that ugly hoe’s Pokémon forya! It’s one a them spiders right? Wonder how much its worth. Stupid easy toswipe from that dumb bitch when she went to pick up her napkin from under thetable!”

He began laughing. Thinking naively that he’d done good,that he’d probably even be commended for his good work. In the middle of ahearty laugh he was about to ask his brothers if he’d done good, when a largehand swiped the bag from his hands before the two grunts could lay into him.

“Boss man?!” one of your admirers squeaked. Guzma lookedharshly at the young one with an expression that indicated he’d get a goodbeating later for being cruel. He briefly asked the two where you were headedto last, got two very shaky replies that he could find you in the library if hehurried before it closed, and immediately was out the door stomping off intothe rain.

Turns out he didn’t have to walk far. He found youimmediately in Ula’Ula Meadow, the only one there crying as though your heart wasabout to break. A kind little girl was rubbing your back, trying to console youby insisting together with her and her partner Oricorio you would all find yourcompanions.

“We’ll find your friends.” She said gently, rubbing yourback. “Galvantula aren’t common here. Someone’s bound to, oh! Please sir!”

She flagged Guzma down, running swiftly over to him.

“My friend… She can’t find her Pokemon! Someone took her bagand everything when she was picking some trash off the floor. Have you seen abag that looks like a yellow and red watermelon? It’s got a Galvantula,Dewpider, and a Fomantis!”

Guzma was so captivated when you looked over at him, eyeswidening in realization when you saw the bag that hung limply at his side. Hetried to hold it out to the lass in front of him, attempting to speak, but yourcaptivating glance rendered him mute.

“My bag!” you cried joyously, running towards him and takingit gratefully. “You found my bag!”

“That’s your bag?” asked the other girl, stars in her eyesas she looked at Guzma innocently. “Wow! Thank you so much sir! You have noidea how much it means to her!”

Nothing came out of his mouth. His entire being was consumedwith the way you smiled, with the way you wrapped your chubby arms around himand cuddled him in a hug. You were vastly tiny compared to him, but he couldn’thelp but understand what the grunts were talking about.

Every aspect of you was adorable, from your cute head with asunhat to your cute feet.

“…Welcome…” he muttered.

“I have to thank you somehow mister!” you insisted, stillholding him in a hug and looking up innocently. “Let me treat you to something?You like malasadas? I can get you all the ones you want?”

He might’ve said yes, because the last thing he knew wasthat he was tripping over his own two feet in his haste to follow you throughthe meadow and off to town where you were going to treat him to a meal.

This must have been what winning the lottery felt like.

[justinransomoluransi]

'oh shit! we should call you ransom and holster! sick name for a d-men pair.' it only takes a second to register the look in your eyes and i return it with my own; it’s perfect. we’re perfect. i know it’s for real when you apply for a room change and practically live in my dorm anyway when you’re denied. 'bro,' you say one day, your fingertips coming up to rest on my cheek while you look me in the eyes. 'bro,' i say back, my other hand seeking out yours and lacing our fingers. we don’t have to say anything; we know. it’s beautiful. we’re beautiful. of course-- sometimes (most times) i still wake up gasping for breath and i swear there’s smoke in my lungs and i reach to your side of the bed to make sure you’re there just as my brain reminds me you’re not. the sheets are cold compared to the heat of my nightmares and all i want is to curl up in your arms and weep. i fall asleep imagining that you are the one whispering 'it’s okay' over and over while the flames that took you lick back into my subconscious. and then-- the first time we meet is on the ice, you with the aces and me with the falconers, and when you catch my eye, grin and nod before the game, electricity zaps up my spine. alexei is a great d-man but i can’t help but wonder how it might be for you and i to play for the same team (there’s a metaphor in there, i think, but i’m too busy getting checked into the boards hard enough to see stars to think about it). after the game (we win; it was a charity match, and no one is too torn up) you find me before i go to my hotel for the night and tater stays back with me, looking at you distrustfully. 'you went to samwell, right? i remember playing against you and zimmermann in the frozen four.' you smile and it feels like someone’s punched all the air from my chest. 'i almost went to samwell too, you know.' 'yeah?' is all i can manage, but that’s okay because you’re already pushing on. 'yeah, i mean, the whole one in four, maybe more thing is pretty inviting.' it’s my turn to smile, and i wonder if i affect you the same way you do me. after that-- starting a new high school in a new country partway through your senior year is scary enough without also adding in the fact of being black and bi and trans and an activist. that morning, eyes heavy with sleep and brain forgetting my anxieties it had seemed like a great idea to wear my pride pins on my bag and my black lives matter shirt, had seemed like a statement, but now i’m surrounded by white teens who give me a wide berth and distrustful eyes and my heart is in my throat. my third class is social studies and i was never one for dramatics but seeing you in the back of the class smiling and talking and laughing in a shirt that says “make racists afraid again” and your bi pride bracelet is like taking a drink after being stranded in a desert. the knot in my stomach starts to unravel and i can breathe again; at least until you catch sight of me, and your smile is so blinding that i nearly stumble when you beckon me toward your group of friends. 'adam.' you’re still smiling. 'justin,' i say back, and your hand feels warm and safe when we shake. you keep talking about how your break had been, how pissed people had been when you said happy hanukkah instead of merry christmas, and the space you make for me in your circle of friends feels so natural i almost forget what worry feels like. next time-- bits and pieces is one of providence’s most successful businesses-- one part because of the food, one part because of the host of professional nhl players who worked or stopped by in their free time, and one part because the bakery is loudly and proudly an lgbt safe space. the cafe was quiet, which was normal for this time of day; a few patrons were scattered around at tables, the tv up in the corner on a news station replaying the highlights from the falconers’ winning game the night before. in about an hour bitty will close the bakery for the next few, because the falconers will be coming home with their new teammate and bitty will want them to all get to know each other before the masses descend on the establishment. 'so, justin,' you say later, leaning against the counter while i make your drink. you’re adam birkholtz, tater’s new d-man, and angels sing when you say my name. 'you gonna write your number on that cup for me, bro, or do i gotta make you a drink instead?' shitty whoops from behind us and the tips of your ears go red, and the effort for you to keep looking calm and collected is adorable. 'nah, brah, i’m classy.' on impulse i grab your hand and scribble my number across the back, glancing up to meet your eyes and grin. 'fuckin high school romance this shit up, birkholtz.' finally-- every life with you flashes behind my eyes when they’re closed and i’m so desperate to find you that it hurts. 'you remember your soulmate once you start puberty,' my parents had said. 'you’ll remember the lives you spent with them; it can be disorienting, so we’ll keep an eye on you. don't worry.' it was only one or two, usually, i knew; it was rare to find your soulmate often in past lives. puberty came and the memories of us left me bedridden for a week; not one life, not two, but hundreds, each memory overwhelming and leaving my heart aching more for you than the last. i try to convince myself that my choice to go to samwell had nothing to do with you, that i just liked the lgbt aspect of it, that it was familiar because so many of my lives had been here, but i knew it was a lie. i was hoping that i’d see you there again, that i’d finally find you after years of pining. you’re not in the locker room or on the ice at the start of practice, and i ignore the ache in my chest, ignore the disappointment, ignore-- 'ransom?' i don’t have to look, i just know, and in the next second my arms are around you and you’re laughing and i’m grinning and saying 'holster, god, i-- holster' and shitty’s skating by in the background: 'oh shit! ransom and holster! sick name for a d-men pair.' it’s perfect. we’re perfect.

soulmates have to be real or you wouldn’t feel this familiar every time

[sonic-forreal-justice]

Quotes from theluckdragons blog

(not neccisarily from the person)

And men generally are bad at everything but somehow casting directors manage to cast buff men for superheroes lol

Creepy pieces of shit all of them.Typical male behavior

Men are so gross & nasty, as are their penises which they know are gross.

it’s okay to beat up girls uwu it’s alright to be abusive ^_^ nothing is wrong with constantly hurting women! <3 you are not inherently bad if you’re a violent misogynist :3

thought y'all might need this ‘cause girls on tumblr say the truth about you and that’s bitchy! in conclusion…. you. are. ✨🌸VALID🌸✨

this is literally a large chunk of male positivity just in less direct wording, but nah, i’m a liar

i don’t believe males aren’t all going to rape because listening to women talk about how many times males have pressured or manipulated them into sex or hearing men talk about ways to trick women into bed, it seems unlikely that there’s that many guys that haven’t done that. like obvi, i know some males don’t and won’t rape, but female safety is more important than male feelings.

no matter what they call themselves, male bodies do not face sex based oppression.

Pornography tells lies about women. But pornography tells the truth about men.

poc can be racist (just not toward whites)

i don’t care about males. so nah, i also don’t care about people trying to make us victims. like why are people trying soo hard to pretend we have it just as bad or worse than women? newsflash: we’re not discriminated against because we have a penis between our legs. we’re not treated as less than. we don’t have beauty standards placed on us. we hardly have any standards placed on us. we’re encouraged and praised, any bad behavior is ignored, excused, rationalized, or diminished. male positivity is at best just useless and pointless and at worst very harmful.

Men only care about getting custody of children as a means of hurting mothers

there’s no such thing as sexism against males, we don’t experience discrimination based on our sex.

male positivity is a cornerstone of patriarchy. ah, yes because a bunch of posts about how it’s okay to be masculine, there’s nothing wrong with being masculine, there’s nothing wrong with males only wanting to date masculine males is totally about helping those of us that don’t fit into masculine stereotypes…. and yeah, posts about straight men being perfect and awesome and how their behavior is perfectly fine is totally about males that don’t fit in….

kill all men is in response to males treating women and children horribly, cry me a fucking river who cares. men are horrible rapists pigs, maybe tell males to stop raping women, also never actually heard that phrase except mras claiming it’s said with frequency, but i’ll pretend it is. male tears is in response to men trying to silence women by whining that we’re being unfairly criticize, how about men stop being fucking babies and take responsibility for how they perpetuate misogyny, cry more…. we face zero discrimination based on our sex, but whatever. lmao maybe men shouldn’t be giving off creepy vibes? i have literally never been given anything but praise and adoration even with it’s someone else little boy, so…. lmao, nah brah men are more likely to get custody if they ask for custody, problem is men don’t want fucking responsibility, nice try though. lmao yeah okay, except a) women hit men in response to how they’re being treated, it’s rarely as a control method b) everyone literally supports women getting the shit beat out of them if they so much lay a finger on males, but whatever. it’s almost like men actively go out and get women drunk for the sake of raping them…. gee ~what a total double standard~  lmao that’s the stupidest response to what patriarchy is and you’re a fucking idiot if you believe that…. lmao literally all the time…. just fucking look at society’s response to literally any criticism of males…. look at what idiotic male positivity peeps post. anyway, society already does that. it coddles us (just like how y’all are all doing right now on this fucking post that was about something specific that happens a lot), it excuses our behavior just like how you’‘re doing now pretending ~misandry~ is a thing, it ignores the ways in which males perpetuate misogyny just how you’re doing now in pretending patriarchy is a “sexist” invention,

but i’ll pretend that in society and as a movement, the sole purpose of male positivity isn’t to combat the real discussions women particularly feminists try to have about male violence and male socialization.

no offense but if male positivity posts are helping you on days when you’re clinical depression hits you hard, your clinical depression can’t be all that bad

Manslation

men don’t feel enough guilt and shame imo

everytime i hear “the men i know arent sexist at all” or “noo im not like that none of my friends are sexist!!” i just

dude bro you have probably no fucking idea how to spot msiogyny and woman hating

just go onto any male posi idiots blog or their followers for proof.

A tef magazine?Outrageous!!!! …SIGN ME UP

what magazine is this? and i’m incredibly poor, but i will donate whatever i can to help this magazinee.

This is why men shouldn’t be involved in feminism–they eventually just make everything about themselves and destroy and ruin the progress that women have made.

male positivity is so prevalent and detrimental that even when he identifies as anything but a man (a woman or some made-up gender), the fact that he’s a pedophile or a rapist still doesn’t matter. people still gotta protect him, excuse his behavior, forgive him for ~a simple mistake~ or even downright lie in the face of evidence,  at what point does harming girls/women stop being a “mistake” and start being a problem?

[gutsybitsies]

(Note: All real nhl teams are populated by fake fictional people in this fic.

Also note: I’m sorry this is disjuncted, I just needed to bang this out.

Triple note: yes this is a pride and prejudice au. 

edit: Part 1) 

“Brah, brah!” Shitty burst into Jack’s apartment. Jack was sitting next to his counter with a protein shake and smiling down at his phone dopily. “You gotta listen to me.” 

“The emergency key is for emergencies, Shits.” Jack sent a smiling emoji to the other person and received a string of unintelligible emojis in return. It was adorable. 

“There are two emergencies today,” Shitty said. “No, strike that, make it three. So the first emergency is that I wanted to see you.” 

“You can’t keep using that excuse to burst into my apartment whenever you feel like it.”

“Shhh,” Shitty put his hand over Jack’s mouth. “Just let me love you.”

“The second emergency is that I finally ran Chad Wickham out of Providence and I wanted to celebrate that with you,” Shitty plopped a bag of booze and snacks onto the counter.

“Shits, I’m not eating that junk,” Jack said, still looking down at his phone. “Anyway, Eric left some pie and pastries we can eat if you have to celebrate this.”

“That’s the third emergency, brah.” Shitty said seriously. “That bro is bad news. You gotta ditch him.”

Jack’s phone buzzed twice. 

Eric: Omg Shitty is there? Tell him hello from me! 

Eric: I left some banana pie in the fridge for him tell him to help himself!!! UuU

The two of them looked down at the text. 

“I thought you liked him when we met him,” Jack was confused. He trusted Shitty with his life, and he trusted Shitty’s judgement. Shitty had saved him from many situations that could have been awkward or dangerous before, but Jack never thought that Shitty would be saying this about Eric. Eric was the kindest, nicest human being that Jack has ever met. They bumped into each other at an art gallery that Shitty dragged him to a few months ago, and Jack found himself gravitated around Eric’s orbit ever since. 

Shitty shook his head. “Nah brah, he’s just using you.”

“Isn’t he best friends with Lardo? How can he be that terrible?” Jack argued. Larissa and Eric were inseparable roommates, who always appeared together.

“Lardo is amazing even though her best friend turned out to be a little worm, and whatever feelings I have are despite those circumstances,” Shitty said loftily. He took out his phone and searched something up. “Anyway Eric is just using you for views on his vlog.”

“She doesn’t let you call her Lardo, Shits,” Jack chirped, even though his heart was pounding. It can’t be that Eric was just using him, was it? Eric was kind and sweet, and he made Jack trip over himself more often than not. And he was sure that Eric…liked him. 

Shitty pulled up videos of Eric, and there he was, talking about Jack. What Jack was like, how Jack liked his pie, what he and Jack did while they were hanging out together, it felt like the ground was pulled out from under Jack’s feet. There was nothing incriminating, none of the more private things that Jack had told Eric, but he never knew that Eric would talk about him like this. And he trusted Shitty’s judgement in people. 

“Oh.” He said softly. His phone buzzed again; it was Eric. Jack ignored it. “Let me think about it.”

“I know you like him,” Shitty said. “And if I thought that it could be something I would just show you the video so you can talk to him about it. But he obviously doesn’t feel the same way.”

“He doesn’t?” Jack said, surprised. “I thought…I got the feeling that he did. He made me pie.”

“He makes everyone pie, and he gives endearments to everyone. And I’m all for freedom of emotional expression, fuck that masculine nonsense, but it’s pretty obvious he’s not only treating you like he does everyone else but he’s profiting off his relationship with you.”

Jack never replied to Eric after Shitty’s visit. The next morning after he kicked Shitty out of bed (”Can you just. If you have to climb in here in the middle of the night can you at least fucking wear pajamas? Do I have to invest in a spray bottle? Because I will.”), his phone buzzed again.

This time it was with an incoming call from his GM. He held a hand up to Shitty, who was making pancakes, and walked out on the balcony to take it.

“No, no hard feelings,” Jack said. “Thanks for telling me in advance.”

He walked back into the apartment, where Shitty was waiting for him with breakfast.

“I’m being traded to New York.”

“Fuck those guys,” Shitty scoffed.

“I was too expensive, and the Rangers are rebuilding so they can afford this,” Jack said. “I knew it was coming. But hey, this means that you don’t have to come down to Providence from your office in New York to see me, eh?” 

Shitty’s mustache twitched and his eyes watered before he jumped Jack in a hug. “You magnificent fucking beaut, I will be fucking angry for you since you can’t be angry for yourself.” 

“Haha, don’t slobber on me, Shitty.” 

After his run that morning, his phone buzzed with more notifications from Eric, who had obviously just seen the news online. 

Jack deleted and blocked his number. New city, new start. 

OMGcheckplease update 

A man sits in front of the camera with a brittle smile. He has a red Samwell hoodie on and fairylights in his background.

“So, Ransom and Holster took me to the Rangers’ game yesterday to make me feel better. Which was really kind of them, they’ve been nothing but sweet when they found out I was transferred to New York and insisted I stay with them. I think they miss the old college days when we all lived together. As y’all know, Ransom has a job doing consulting with the Rangers organization. His job doesn’t make him interact with the players, but gosh he must have been charming enough to get us tickets to the game last night. It was so amazing, I missed watching hockey.” 

The man hesitates, then wraps his arms around himself. 

“I’ve been down recently because of the move, I miss my friends and coworkers in Providence so much. And my romantic life hasn’t been that great either. 

When I was in highschool, there was this boy I had such a crush on. He was on the soccer team, but he wasn’t like the rest of the high school sports boys. He was real nice to me, and not just because my daddy was the football coach either. And I liked him so much I decided to tell him that I was gay and that I liked him too, but that just led to him ignoring me and avoiding me.” 

There is a slight jump in the video, and the man appears to have redder eyes. He seems to be remembering something, before he starts talking again. 

“Sometimes I wish that I can stay friends with the straight men that I fall for. Or that I can actually tell whether or not a guy is straight.

But enough about sad stuff!” The man visibly pulls himself together and smiles brightly.

“It’s time for more Bittle jam drama!”