I just Know that Bitty is taking Twitter's collapse like the loss of a child and is tweeting to no end because "It was with me FOR EVERYTHING, JACK!"
for real though.. bitty chronicled falling in love with him and their relationship through twitter ):
We Are Having A Time On Twitter Tonight
oh my god could you IMAGINE the utter panic that would set in
tater was just four geese in a human costume all along
I think it’s def more than 4 geese 😔
i think people are afraid to touch jack until they see shitty climb into his lap one day and, expecting jack to yell at him or shove him away, are shocked to see him actually just hook his chin over shitty's shoulder and twitch his lips into something thats almost a smile, resuming the conversation he was having like nothing has changed. i think that people talk about him, but no one talks to him until shitty starts dragging him into conversations by reciting the little facts he's been collecting in his head about jack's likes and dislikes. i think everyone just assumes that jack isn't interested in being part of the team until shitty starts demanding that jack be invited to everything, or he's not going either. and i just think that jack doesn't even realize how much being included and feeling like part of the team are important to him until shitty offers that to him, and i think at the end of the day, shitty is more than jack's best friend, he's like, the person who taught jack how to be a friend.
somewhere, in some other universe, it’s 2015 and there’s a 14yo girl updating her jack x reader wattpad fic titled “Check Me, Baby! (An OMGCP Fanfic)”
jack zimmermann is a friend to the geese. he respects them, they respect him. he can get close. they never hiss at him.
tony tangredi is, through no fault of his own, an enemy of the geese. they get in his path and his like it’s his fault. they bark at him when he’s trying to get to class. they steal his food and chase him around campus. it’s a terrifying life to live.
The truth is most people think being disabled is a death sentence but instead of advocating for disabled people they r convinced that they’ll never become disabled as if being disabled is some biblical punishment. Guess what? Accidents happen. You will get old and your body will stop working like it used to. Imagine if we live in a world where disability is seen as normal. Where we actually take care of each other.
Also I don’t think we have as many abled body people in the world as we think. I think many people are so terrified of being disabled that they r willing overwork themselves to prove they can do it. Many people deal with chronic pain and physical health issues in silence. Because they don’t want to be burden. I think we should be burden to each other and i think labor should be shared.
The truth is most people think being disabled is a death sentence but instead of advocating for disabled people they r convinced that they’ll never become disabled as if being disabled is some biblical punishment. Guess what? Accidents happen. You will get old and your body will stop working like it used to. Imagine if we live in a world where disability is seen as normal. Where we actually take care of each other.
Also I don’t think we have as many abled body people in the world as we think. I think many people are so terrified of being disabled that they r willing overwork themselves to prove they can do it. Many people deal with chronic pain and physical health issues in silence. Because they don’t want to be burden. I think we should be burden to each other and i think labor should be shared.
au where jack and bitty met in a totally different context and hooked up one night and then bitty just:
forever disappointed that there was never an omgcp ep featuring the lax team where every lax bro clearly has an smh counterpart
chad b stands for bitty, chad s for shitty, etc
bittle drops the gloves.
“what the fuck, bittle?” jack says.
what the actual fuck is happening? he’d never thought— not coming from bittle — but there he is, helmet off, his blonde hair a mess, fists risen towards jack, his black gloves abandoned on the ice. the crowd is already on their feet, cheering away the fight.
“afraid of a little fight, zimmermann?” bittle asks, accent thick, a smirk on his face.
jack gapes. so… he doesn’t know if this is only bravado, to make-up for the fact that jack accidentally ran into their goalie, who had to leave the game. the kings have been trailing behind since then and jack knows, in theory, what bittle is trying to achieve. rile up his team. and jack also knows that a guy like bittle sticks up for his team, like the captain he was back at samwell. but he also knows more about bittle, some things that miraculously stayed between faber’s wall.
but he knows that tone. he knows a chirp from bittle when he hears one, and bittle has been checking player after player into the boards tonight like during any other game. unafraid to go shoulder-to-shoulder with jack. a piece of work, that winger, jack thinks, amused.
“get a move on,” the ref orders.
jack drops his gloves.
chaos in the crowd redoubles, and bittle’s smirk grows. it’s not like jack has to hit hard. or at all. he can get punched in the face once or twice, let bittle redesign the placement of his nose on his face, and call it a day.
bittle grins, but the expression is replaced a second away by one jack has seen a hundred times. this is bittle just before he un-molds a cake. bittle getting that temperature right for the frying oil. concentrated.
it happens faster than it ever has before. jack’s been in his fair share of fights, although not as many as others have. it’s easy to grab at bittle’s jersey, keep him at an arm’s length before swift knuckles graze the side of his face, his mouth. it stings, and jack tries to shove bittle’s face away. it’s not the strongest punch bittle can muster, jack knows, and he wants to laugh. this is all for show.
it seems less for show when bittle grabs his jersey and swings jack with surprising precision on the ice, at an angle where jack’s knees hit first, and his head not at all.
bittle’s fists in his jersey. their bodies slot, for a single second. and then two. there’s a wild strand of hair glued to bittle’s forehead, and his cheeks are pink, eyes blown wide. his knees, bracketing jack’s chest, hard, assertive, grounding, as bittle sits up.
three seconds.
the refs gets their hands on bittle, pull him off jack.
bittle lets them, without any resistance. “good fight, jack,” he says, with yet another smirk.
jack passes a hand over his lip. the skin is broken there, only slightly. “nice punch.”
“I learned from the best,” he lets slip out, with a wink directed at jack as he picks his helmet up.
there will be screenshots made, later on and reposted everywhere, of jack staring at him, as bittle skates away. shots of bittle’s face, too, and his little smile as he goes to the box. (not the wink. it could only be seen from one angle, as if bittle knew the placement of every single camera around the ice and creating a blind spot for them. he might have. the eye in the middle of the hurricane. just bittle, jack, and a wink.)
people start to talk.
On August 3, 2015 Bitty is in Providence, a halo of tousled hair around his head in the morning light, and Jack gives him a festive-looking envelope.
“What is this, Mr. Zimmermann,” he says, laughing, pulling open the ribbon wrapped around it. “You’re supposed to get presents on your birthday, not gi–” His voice falters and he holds a $500 Williams Sonoma gift card in shaking fingers.
Jack wraps arms around him. “I am going to watch you spend it,” he says into Bitty’s hair, “on rolling pins and bain-maries and kitchen knives that don’t make you curse their lineage.” He kisses his neck. “You are going to throw out the pot with the green handle. After we douse it with gasoline and set it on fire.”
“Oh my god,” Bitty says, who has literally started weeping. “Thank you. Thank you so much. This is the best present anyone has ever gotten me.”
Jack holds him as Bitty turns around and cries into Jack’s shoulder. “I am the best boyfriend ever?”
“Oh my god, Jack. Oh my god.”
Jack may, he concludes, have gone a little overboard; you can have too much of a good thing when it takes someone half an hour to calm down about it. He should have done more than one trip, with smaller amounts.
But it’s still the best gift he’s ever fucking bought himself.
Now I have this scenario stuck in my head:
In his new kitchen in Providence, Jack has a microwave, one 8 inch frying pan, three forks, three spoons, two knives, two bowls, and a coffee maker. He knows he can buy more things, but he needs to look as inept and pathetic as possible for his plan to succeed. The first time Bitty visits he is awed by the kitchen for about two seconds and then is so appalled that he can’t sleep. Jack takes him for a big froofy latte early the next morning.
“I know I need more stuff, but I’m not even sure where to start.” Jack speaks mournfully into his cup of black coffee, because he is on a mission. “I don’t know. Could you make me a list or something?”
Bitty has his phone out and in fewer than 10 seconds tells Jack to get back in the car. They drive to Providence Place and Jack’s never heard of Sur La Table, but from the way Bitty enters–like a medieval pilgrim entering a cathedral, he knows this is going to work if he doesn’t overplay his hand.
You know. I feel like a lot of us agree that Jack is Loaded™ but isn’t flashy about it. And I love that but I raise you (1) date where Jack is trying to impress and he does something stupidly extravagant like rent out an entire yacht for a night or something. Like I’m sorry I just want to watch jack drop 30k on a night for Bitty one time and Bitty is standing there like “oh shit, I did actually marry my sugar daddy, 16-year-old me is losing his fucking SHIT RIGHT NOW”
