won tickets for the rugby tonight in the hospitality lounge
she’s just posted a post about how she’s just met met Princess Anne
it made me think of zimbits
Bitty won tickets to go to a falcs game in the nice box
totally random
and he’s DYING
because thats ALICIA ZIMMERMAN
and he’s with Lardo
who is being super chill and keeping him from puking
and for some reason, he gets into a heated argument over pie with some celebrity tv chef he dislikes over their insistence that it always has to be the bEST stuff
and he’s like
screw you, do you know how much it costs? to be good? and get good things? I live in a FRAT HOUSE you pompous ass and I bet I could bake circles around you with one hand tied behind my back AND a murder stop and shop run
and Bob is like.
this
this is the one
I want this one.
Alicia.
Please
and shes pepper potts
No
But Jack will love him, I know it!!
No
Please!!
No.
*Don’t even pull that elitist crap with me, I learned how to cook like generation before me at the KNEE OF MY MOTHER and I don’t need to go all the way to FRANCE to know that you don’t freeze the damn butter*
Alicia is like… well shit. Bobs got heart eyes, no one is watching the hockey and everyone misses Jack getting the winning goal because Lardo has started filming it
so jacks a lil pissed with bitty
bitty is soaring on righteous fury
Bob is trying to convince Lardo he needs a copy of this video
and Alicia is wondering if she can spin this into a cooking show for her new network
(she can. Bitty hosts a bargain bin / student budget cooking show that is a HUGE hit because he’s super passive agressive about EVERYTHING he uses)
*If, like MOST OF AMERICA you live in a place where hand picked olives from Tuscany are not on sale, then store bought is FINE*
50 uses for hot sauce your housemates got while couponing without your guidance.
how to make a three course meal for your girlfriend when you can’t cook and you promised her before checking that the oven was even working CHRIS CHOW, using a toaster, a microwave and an inventive use of the spin setting on your washer.
when giant canadian hockey butts slander your FOUR TIME COUNTY FAIR WINNING MAPLE CRUSTED PIES and you have to PROVE THEM WRONG. for beginners!
*bright smile*
When Hockey Butt uses the last of the milk and you’re about to go live on air.
when HB admits that he’s not feeling so great and you need to make your mamma’s chicken soup but can’t afford chicken
when you are at your wits end because a cute HB is coming over for dinner and you had class all morning and didn’t have time to prep all the food – meet my sous chef Dex!
The meal that I served to HB’s parents! First meeting food for the soul – the budget will shock you!
I can’t come up with anything too long that hasn’t been done already, but how about Bitty going to Samwell but not playing hockey and is friends with Lardo so does frequent the haus parties etc.
And Jack, who is still taking a photography class sees him and wants nothing more than to use Bitty as his model for a project or something.
However what Jack doesn’t know is that Bitty has a massive crush on him, so he keeps avoiding Jack at all costs.
Queue Jack increasingly ridiculous attempts at talking to Bitty, and Bitty even more ridiculous attempts at avoiding him.
“Duck,” Bitty hissed as he dove under the table.
Lardo had just enough time to ask bewilderingly, “What?” before she was pulled under the table too. “What are you doing?” she said again, but Bitty only shook his head and wouldn’t answer.
Minutes later, he cautiously popped his head up to survey the cafe before he called, “Okay, coast is clear.”
“You better have a good reason for that,” Lardo said as she sat back in the booth. Then, expression turning serious, she leaned across the table.
“Is someone giving you trouble?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Bitty dismissed with an embarrassed wave. “It’s just that, um, Jack Zimmermann walked in.”
Lardo was stumped. “What’s wrong with Jack?”
“Uhh, nothing. Nothing’s wrong with him.”
“Bitty,” Lardo said in tone that warned him if he didn’t start talking soon, she was still going to find a way to get the story out of him sooner or later.
Luckily, Bitty gave in easily. “Well, it’s just that–you know that party at the Haus you invited me to a couple months ago?” He fiddled nervously with the handle of the coffee cup.
“Yeah, the epickegster.”
“Yes, that. Well… I may have drank more than I should have that night and uh, I bumped into him upstairs–”
Lardo was torn between being impressed that Bitty had kept quiet about hooking up with Jack quiet for so long and pissed that Bitty had kept quiet about hooking up with Jack for so long.
“–and I word vomited all over him.”
“Wait? What?” This took a sudden and unexpected turn. “So, you and Jack didn’t…” she trailed off, though her implication was more than clear.
Bitty looked stricken. “No, gosh, no. Nothing like that. I just couldn’t stop talking. He’s so handsome, you know, and I’ve seen him on the ice, and well, I fawned all over him and made him uncomfortable.” Bitty hunched over the table, not quite meeting Lardo’s eyes.
“I made a complete fool out of myself.”
“So, now your plan is to just avoid him all the time,” Lardo said slowly, trying to understand the logic behind.
“I already sent him an apology pie, but yes, that’s the plan,” Bitty answered brightly.
—
“Lardo, wait up,” Jack said as he fell instep beside her on the way to the library. They exchanged the usual greetings before they were both silent. Jack wanted something and she knew from experience it was better to wait it out than to straight up ask him. “So, I have a question,” he finally said.
“Yeah?”
“You’re friends with Eric Bittle.” It was less of a question and more a statement.
“Yeah,” she repeated.
“Is… he… going to be at your art show tomorrow night?” Lardo’s rhythm might have faltered, but she was at least proud of herself for not tripping and falling over.
“Maybe,” she hedged. “Why?”
Jack coughed to cover up his awkwardness. “Well, I’m taking this photography course this semester.”
“I know,” she said. She was still confused about why this was related to Bitty. They were nearing the library now, so Jack had better spit out what it was that he really wanted to ask.
“I need a subject to photograph.”
“Okay…?”
“I was hoping to asking Eric Bittle,” Jack finally admitted, the aha moment finally clicked for Lardo.
“He’ll be there tomorrow night,” she promised with a grin, even if she had to drag Bitty there herself.
“Okay, thanks,” Jack said, looking relieved.
—
“You said Jack Zimmermann wouldn’t be here tonight,” Bitty hissed. It would have been hilarious if he didn’t also sound so panicked.
“I lied,” Lardo said simply. She waved over to Jack before putting a steadying hand on Bitty’s shoulder. “And you can’t leave now that he’s made eye contact.”
Bitty glared at Lardo, but didn’t say anything because Jack was making his way over to them.
“Hey, Lardo. Sorry, I’m late–” Jack started, but Lardo cut him off.
“Jack, you were looking for Bitty, and Bitty, you know Jack. What coincidence we are meeting here. Anyways, you two look like you have a lot to talk about and I need to be over there.” Without wasting time, she left the two of them alone in the isolated corner of the gallery without a backward glance.
By the end of the very busy evening, when Lardo finally remembered to check in with Bitty and Jack, she couldn’t find them.
“Have you seen Jack?” she asked Shitty after scanning the thinning crowd.
“I dunno. I think he had somewhere he needed to be. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out here.”
She texted Bitty to check on him, but she didn’t get an answer until the morning after.
im fine
sorry we left early.
jack asked me to model for him! 😁
so i gave him a demonstration 😉
But consider this:
Eric “Bitty” Bittle, great-grandson of Howling Commando Dum Dum Dugan (on his Mama’s side), has a cousin coming to Samwell and needs to crash at the Haus for a while until they can “sort out his living arrangements.”
Bitty’s cousin Steve is a Brooklyn boy from New York, an art student, is about five foot and change of sass and kindness.
Also, he can cook too.
(“Bless your heart, is that colcannon, cousin?”
“Trust me on this – the boyfriend loves it.” )
Shitty is over the moon because “Cousin Steve” has an amazing tolerance to the Haus’ infamous “Tub Juice.”
Of course, Jack the History Major promptly has a heart attack because World War II is one of his major interests and he totally recognizes Bitty’s “Cousin Steve” and he actually fumbles when Steve smiles ruefully and just shakes his hand.
Jack mumbles something about his thesis on the Howling Commandos and Steve tells him it’s a “Yes.”
Also, Jack is not sure whether to be thankful or completely pissed off that Steve proved that Bitty is a full body blusher. He tries not to understand what it meant when Steve looked Jack up and down and turned to Bitty and said, “Cousin, we definitely have a type.”
“Oh my lord,” Bitty moaned.
“Brunette, killer cheekbones and blue-gray eyes, Bits. We’re definitely related.“
“YOU STOP THAT, STEVEN GRANT.“
Jack begins to understand about brunette and killer cheekbones when he realizes “Cousin Steve” has a shadow who, for whatever reason, trips all of Jack’s internal alarm bells.
Shitty is all: “He’s ex-military and is taking engineering.”
“How do you know this?”
“Elementary, my dear Watzimms – you don’t get that murder strut on America’s Next Top Model.”
“…”
“Okay, so maybe I saw him take down one of the few known assholes on campus – the one who tried to drown our Bits in the toilet?”
“The one who still has your sneaker prints on his ass from when you kicked him out of the Haus.”
“Not that you didn’t sock him on the jaw too. That was beautiful, bro.”
“And?”
“Well, Mr. Murder Strut put the fear of God into him, so much so that I hear he’s dropping out and moving to some other campus.”
Jack comes into the Haus one day to find Mr. Murder Strut sprawled out on the couch and Cousin Steve curled up on top of him, purring contentedly.
Mr. Murder Strut calmly regards Jack and then says, “Your fella’s in the kitchen. Try not to keep him waiting.”
Jack blinks.
Mr. Murder Strut has a nice smile. “He’s a keeper, you know. Shouldn’t let him get away. I know I’m not going to let go of mine.”
“Buck,” Cousin Steve manages to sound reproving even sleepy.
“I’m just sayin’!”
The other shoe drops. If James Buchanan Barnes, former Howling Commando, is dispensing love advice to Jack Zimmerman, he probably needs to pay attention.
Jack manages to get himself into the kitchen where Bitty and apple maple crusted pie awaited. It took a few false starts but it did end with apple maple-flavored kisses and an armful of happy, giggling Bitty.
Cousin Steve and Mr. Bucky “Murder Strut” Barnes became constant Haus guests.
And Lo, I Have Fallen Into Gay Hockey Hell With Stucky, a Blanket Fort Headcanon In Which There Is No Civil War, Everything is Happy and Nothing Hurts (via darthstitch)
there is 100% a twitter account @IsSMHintheLibrary and it’s just “nah they’re not here you’re good” or “oluransi is crying under a table and birkholtz is singing, stay away” or “just bittle, he’s watching hockey but the sound’s on low” or “RED ALERT NURSE, CHOW, AND POINDEXTER! STAY AWAY!!!!”
Ok, so, we all know that Jack absolutely lives for making Bitty proud of him. He keeps his encouraging notes, screenshots his congratulatory texts, and absolutely melts when he cuddles up with Bitty in bed late at night after a game and Bitty mummers “you played so hard out there, sweetheart.”
But like, just imagine poor jacques when he hears Bitty telling other people how proud he is of him. Bitty at dinner with Marty barely gets out “Jack was a wonderful captain,” and Jack experiences a critical blush event and can’t follow the conversation for a full minute and a half.
based on a dream I had, I present: a short semi-fic about Jack and Shitty and their day-long, beautiful relationship.
Basically, this is what happens:
At a kegster during their freshmen year, in which Shitty is running around being the life of the party even though he’s a freshman, Jack is also in attendance– talking to Berger and Marsh in the kitchen. Jack is there, partly to keep an eye on Shitty, partly because he is surprised by how much he does like some of the guys on his team, mostly because they had won today and Jack is in quite a good mood. Not a good enough mood that he is going to risk going into the living room where music is blasting, but in a good enough mood that he is holding a solo cup of beer and chilling in the kitchen, chatting with Berger and Marsh. He is at ease as Jack ever is– laughing good naturedly as they tease both him and each other and of course, this is when the trouble starts.
The trouble is this: Marsh is drunk and excited that Jack has actually shown up to a Haus kegster and since Jack seems to be in a good mood, Marsh decides to take a risk and ask Jack a Question. More specifically, Marsh rams an friendly elbow into Jack’s ribs and goes:
“Yo, Zimmermann, you like anyone on campus yet?”
A few months prior, that question would have made Jack freeze up. But now, Jack smiles easily (because honestly, it is a rather respectful question– “like” instead of “fuck”; “anyone” instead of assuming “girl”) and he certainly doesn’t want to get into his romantic history or lack of crushes so he smiles, shrugs, and says
“Nah, love’s shitty,” It’s still friendly and he smiles and asks Berg about his crush that the whole team knows about and that should be that.
The problem, however, is that what Alex Berger and Carter Marsh heard was not “Nah, love’s shitty,” but “I’m in love with Shitty.”
@softkent ‘s 14 Days of Love fic-a-thon, day 6: ruined surprises!
It all started because Katya decided to have mercy on Eric and let him take morning classes this semester. WGSS120 was an amazing class, Professor Atley had the coolest stories about how postwar industrialization led to compulsive female domesticity, and his seatmate wasn’t the worst thing to see at 9:30 AM every Tuesday and Thursday. He would have almost been dreamy if he had the slightest knack for small talk. As it was, Eric didn’t even have a name to go on, just intent blue eyes and an ass that even the baggiest of shorts couldn’t mask.
One day, Eric decided to drop a hospitality bomb on the guy and see if he could coax a response out of him. They were both consistently early to class, so Eric budgeted ten minutes for a brief chat before class started and turned to Cute Guy with a winning smile on his face.
“So how about that reading, huh? I thought it was fascinating how cake mix became a prestige thing- everyone in my family bakes, and I don’t think we’ve used a box mix in forty years.”
“Yeah,” the guy said, “I think it had something to do with the scientific advancements they made in food preservation for the troops. Shelf stabilization wouldn’t have been nearly as achievable in earlier years.”
Miraculously, once you got onto a clear subject, Cute Guy was actually a decent conversationalist. Eric found himself losing track of time as they dissected last night’s chapters of Marling.
“And the American National Exhibition anecdote!” he giggled. “Who can even tell the difference between Russian and American Coke?”
“I bet it’s easier with all of the Soviet Union breathing down your back. ‘Da, cola of Mother Russia is vkusno!’”
“Nice accent,” Eric told Cute Guy.
“Really? Thanks, I’ll have to tell Geno. He’s always knocking my Russian. He’s, uh, a friend of my dad’s, and we both play hockey.”
“So that’s what your weird doodles are? Hockey plays?”
“Yeah, I’m captain of the hockey team here. We’re not half bad, if I say so myself.”
“Wow,” Eric enthused, “you must be a pretty good skater, then.”
“Yeah, I guess. I could teach you sometime, if you want. I’m Jack, by the way,’ Cute Guy said.
Bob: Sweetheart would you leave me for Harrison Ford
Alicia: Yea would u Bob: ya just checking that we’re on the same page
Jack: could you not text this in the family group chat Bob: no
Bob: Eric, would you ever consider leaving Jack for Harrison Ford Bitty: no?? Bob: Oh Bob: Really? Bob: Are you sure Bitty: Yes I’m sure Jack: can you please leave my husband alone
Bitty: I can’t think of any celebrity I’d leave him for Bitty: I mean, he was already my celebrity crush! Jack: That’s nice but a lie, you would leave me for Beyoncé
“Thanks. You can put it on the counter in the kitchen.”
That had been Jack’s first mistake.
It wasn’t so much the words he said, but rather the fact that he’d said them in French.
However, to Jack’s credit, he had been in the middle of revising a chapter when he’d heard the knock on his door, and the fact that he hadn’t had any caffeine yet due to the broken coffee maker had thrown off his entire morning.
He had been been expecting Georgia, the lady he rented the cabin from, to be standing on his door step. However, instead of the landlord, he got a blond guy with wide, brown eyes staring back at him.
There was a sort of gurgle of surprise and a nervous giggle from the other guy for a moment before he blurted, “Hi, I’m your new housekeeper!”
Jack raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything in his confusion. Francine, Georgia’s wife, usually stopped by once every couple of days to tidy up the place, but neither of the two ladies had mentioned anything about a new hire.
Jack must have been lost in thought for a moment too long because the other guy took this as a sign that Jack didn’t speak English. “Uh, you know, cleaning?” He mimed a sweeping action and then pointed at Jack. “Ummm, je… travaille pour Georgia?” he said in a truly horrendous accent.
Jack gave an impatient nod of his head.
“Je m’appelle Eric or you can call me Bitty. Actually, je m’appelle Bitty,” he said proudly with his hand out.
There was something about the other guy’s candidness that made Jack pause, or maybe he had been trapped in a cabin for too long, but he reached out and took the handshake.
what i do is not up to you 