pizza frat

I Am Going To Recap “Bachelor In Paradise” Because I Hate Myself & Romance Is A Lie: The Lineup

I am an intelligent, independent, mostly level-headed feminist woman; therefore I am tempted* to feel deep shame at the fact that the three things that somehow make me crave a relationship most are a. late ‘90s-early ‘00s romantic comedies (usually starring Kate Hudson and/or Freddie Prinze Jr.) b. male-sung country songs about women (tender; non-misogynistic) and c. The Bachelor.

*tempted, but don’t because shame is LAME. Own your Freddie-Prinze-Jr-truth.

For those who haven’t figured it out yet, The Bachelor is COMPLETELY fake. There are numerous articles on the internet from former contestants, producers, and even, now, a scripted sitcom detailing the manipulation that goes into making a dating show - lock a bunch of attractive, unstable people in a house together, deprive them of media, sleep, and human contact, feed them a bunch of alcohol, throw them in a hot tub. For SURE the recipe for finding a soulmate in six weeks (HAS ANYONE EVER FOUND A SOUL MATE IN SIX WEEKS?!) But I am so obsessed. I can’t look away. They’re all so pretty and dumb. And around the fifth cheesy first kiss at sunset at a surprise private concert of an F-list, ABC-affiliated recording artist I start thinking that maybe searching for real love is overrated. Can I really know my soulmate without Hootie & The Blowfish magically appearing at the end of a pier to serenade me? I THINK NOT.

Thankfully, it would seem the trainwreck they call “Bachelor in Paradise” is about to strip any of the remaining veneer off that soulmate facade, and I for one am thrilled. As I understand it, “Bachelor in Paradise” takes all the former F-list rejects of the E-list garbage people previously named Bachelor/ette and throws them on an island to fuck away their sadness. I can’t imagine they are even pretending there is romance involved, nor do I think they could when I am assuming half of the “dates” involve twelve people making out in one for sure STD-infested jacuzzi, but I am POSITIVE at least 3 women will still say they are “honestly here to find their soulmate”. I just feel like a nineteen year old Floridian sorority girl has a better chance at locking down husband material on a Carnival Cruise than a bunch of 24 year old dance instructors do on a TV show.

Needless to say, I can’t wait to dive in. Disclaimer: I have zero idea how “Bachelor in Paradise” works in practice; I also know next to nothing about any of the “contestants”. I looked up their pictures & ages and I saw maybe 5 total minutes of 3 people in the Bachelor/ette episodes I tried to tell myself I was hate-watching multiple seasons ago, but if they weren’t even memorable enough to date the loser who had to know them in person, I certainly don’t remember a thing pink-wine-drunk on my couch. Therefore, the upcoming bios are 100% made up, and still an estimated 84% completely fucking accurate.

The Girls

Jillian, 25

You just KNOW this bitch is obsessed with CrossFit & quotes wrongfully attributed to Audrey Hepburn.

  • Occupation: Dog Groomer
  • Relationship Faux Pas: Beating boyfriends at arm wrestling
  • Starbucks Order: Grande nonfat PSL, half syrup, extra whip
  • Favorite Book: Dear John

Ashley S., 25

CRAZY. EYES. Please imagine waking up to those eyes watching you sleep and don’t even pretend you wouldn’t be CONVINCED she was planning on the most comfortable way to wear your skin as a parka.

  • Occupation: Yoga Instructor
  • Relationship Faux Pas: Aggressive overuse of baby voice
  • Celebrity Crush: Tom Cruise
  • Favorite Movie: Antz

Juelia, 30

The spelling of her name is almost as unforgivable as her lipstick color, or the fact that she’s doing “The Bachelor” again when she is clearly a single mom who should be home taking care of her toddler son, Huntyr.

  • Occupation: Hairdresser
  • Relationship Faux Pas: Pretending her boobs are real
  • Hogwarts House: Jk, obviously a Squib
  • Favorite Food: Froyo 

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diktown  asked:

ღ [lady voice] no romo

Romantic attraction:  the concept of ‘no romo’ extends to grendel, too. you want to go get some pizza and crash a frat party, girl, we can do that. but like. just as pals.

Sexual attraction:  yet another circumstance of  ‘i can see how/why people would be attracted to you, but that doesn’t mean i am.’  lady’s cool as shit, though, dog. she’s beautiful and kickass and he wishes her all the luck in the world w/ The Sex.

Aesthetic attraction:  like i said, grendel thinks she’s cool as shit. galaxy titties, broh.

Sensual attraction:  sit in grendel’s lap and let him attempt to braid your hair.  it’s chill.

The Perfect Game

Pairings: Jongtae, side Minkey
Rating: PG-13 
Word count: 2400+
Other notes: Written for Jonghyun’s birthday and for the anon who requested Jongtae fluff. I don’t know if this counts as fluff or not uwu but I had fun writing it. 
Synopsis: Taemin is a college student disenchanted with serving straight frat boys at the local bowling alley. Jonghyun comes in with his friends one night and proceeds to be cute and ridiculous. 

Taemin normally refused to work Thursdays at the bowling alley, but he needed the money this week to offset everything he had sunk into that box of used XBOX games he had purchased from the guy down the hall. Thursdays were College Night at the bowling alley, and the cheap admission and cheaper beer brought out the students in rowdy droves.

He hated the students at the school, as a rule, and mostly kept to himself, preferring to stay in his room between classes and during meals. But at the bowling alley, he was trapped behind the counter, forced to make nice with every bro who walked through the door, forced to count change into their large sweaty palms as they cracked the most tired and half-assed jokes about his gender, as if he’d never heard those before.

On campus, he wore his long platinum bob and dark eye liner and multiple piercings like weapons, and coldly flipped people off when they gave him shit, but at work, being rude to the customers might get him fired, and he couldn’t afford to lose this job, since the bowling alley was one of the few places he thought would hire him in this area, especially given his androgynous appearance, delicately labeled “alternative” by his mother.

But despite the steep discounts on Thursdays, the bowling alley was almost empty that evening, save for a father teaching his young daughter how to bowl, and a giggly high school couple likely on their first date. Taemin leaned back in his worn swivel chair and crossed his ankles on the counter, his scuffed black boots almost blocking his view of the lanes. He threw a quick glance around and then pulled out his 3DS, muting the volume as his game came to life. He snapped his gum loudly, and kept chewing it, despite how tasteless and tough it had become.

Taemin heard them before he saw them: the jangling of the bell over the door, and the subsequent boisterous laughter and chatter. He looked over, disinterested and resigned, and did not smile when the college students noticed him. He had really hoped for a quiet shift tonight. The group of four guys (likely also Korean, he thought) swaggered over, led by the one that Taemin had already labeled the Short Loud One. Taemin glared at them, and did not remove his boots from the counter.

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