The Real Reason People Make Wishes At 11:11 Is Because It’s Scott Mccall’s Jersey Number Twice

#Okay, but we still don’t have a heterosexual explanation for this [2//??]

ok we always talk about the “no need to call me sir, professor” but why are we not talking about this truly Iconic drag

u know i’ve expressed my love for fake married/fake dating many, many times but like. is anything better. is anything better on this earth. does any trope or genre truly care for us quite like this one. let us reflect on a few of the gifts that fake married/dating consistently gives us:

character a asks “hey, will you pretend to be my date for a week for [convoluted excuse that could easily be solved without a fake relationship]?” character b, fully convinced of the futility of their DEEP AND UNREQUITED LOVE, figures this’ll be a chance to spend time with them and possibly put their feelings to rest. character b is always wrong & it is always amazing.

having to SHARE A LIVING SPACE FOR ARBITRARY FIC REASONS. having to see eachother in their pajamas first thing in the morning, messy haired, drowsy eyed and soft faced. going from “you can have the bathroom first” to brushing their teeth beside eachother and feeling like this closeness has always existed (at the same time, painfully aware that it won’t always). 

related to the last one — “”practicing”” their casual touching so that it’s easier when they’re in public. feeling SWOOPS OF ARDOR AND AGONY when they feel the brush of a hand on their neck, or an arm loop around their waist. don’t you love how fake marrieds/dates are always method actors who must FULLY INHABIT their roles. i love it. i live for it. 

bed sharing. :^) we all pretend we’re bigger than this but we are not. 

“kiss me while everyone’s looking.”

the character who wasn’t aware they were in love (maybe always had been) until the fake relationship is in full swing, realizing they have to sort their feelings out before their time together is up. sometimes they succeed and angst is minimal. most of the time they don’t, really.

telling eachother “i love you” in public and meaning it, heart aching over it, but bELIEVING THE OTHER 2 BE ACTING. my soul is still 15, this garbage still gets me. u don’t get pining better than this.

the days leading up to the end of the arrangement where one of them, still confused and muddy about their Feelings and unsure how to break things off, stiffens to the casual, reflexive touching and puts their walls back up. the other one accepts and respects this as the end of their agreement and squashes back down all the hope they ever had, stuffs it next to the heartbreak they’re ignoring deep in their chest. 

when they realize they’re actually fully and enthusiastically mutual about the way they feel and it’s, like, two parts euphoria and one part agony because they just cannOT BELIEVE, the happiness tears them in two. maybe there are weepy or laughing kisses. i don’t know but i’m usually invested like 2000%. i love fake dating/marrieds. 

I LOVE EM.

Holster Has Made Out With Everyone 5) Junior Year: Bitty

Epikegsters, man. They’re fucked up. Like, wake up in the wrong bed wearing someone else’s underwear, possibly in the wrong time zone kind of fucked up. Every single (epic) time.

Holster has a good night at first — he and Ransom spend the evening wheeling volleyball girls (and accidentally, Chowder) with ghost stories and hockey trivia, and then there’s the whole epic Kent Parson appearance, and the tub juice is extra dire. Lardo is magnificent, ruling the party in every possible way. Even Jack is more in the party spirit than usual, hanging out all casual with Bitty - thank fuck those two are friends now, it was no fun when they were feuding or whatever.

But later on, the vibe shifts. March and April head home early with Farmer because they all have practice the next morning, Kent Parson stalks out of the Haus looking like someone threw up on his Mercedes (not out of the realms of possibility) and somehow Holster ends up sober enough that Shitty sticks him with frog duty.

By the time he wanders back back from escorting Nursey, Dex and Chowder back safely to their dorms, the party has dropped to a dull roar, and Ransom has left a jock strap on the door as the universal sign of getting some.

At least he tossed Holster’s pillow and blanket outside the door first, so it’s not a complete kick in the balls.

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the best of little mix post brit awards

My favourite part about Ransom and Holster not clueing into Shitty and Lardo’s relationship is that they obviously can’t tell when a friendship has gone past the point of platonic, and so it’s completely plausible that they wouldn’t be able to tell with their own relationship.

just putting this out there but if someone points out something you’re doing has racist/homophobic/transphobic vibes, you dont have to defend what you’re doing, you can literally just say ‘oh, i did not realise that, im sorry, i wont do that again’ like we all have internalised things we do that are offensive without us realising.. just say sorry and work on it. theres no need to defend

can i request cuddly dexnursey?

: - )

Ronnie just had to insist that she have dinner with the in-laws

I know you mainly write nurseydex, but would you be willing to do some Camilla/Lardo? Or just something involving the women of omgcp?

Camilla has never been cool. She’s always been popular, but she knows that’s just because she’s pretty enough and an athlete. She’s not cool, not like those kids back in high school who hung out in the art room and said what was on their mind and truly didn’t give a damn what other people thought. Not like her freshman year roommate, who double majors in Literature and International Studies and speaks in her own language comprised of her favorite quotes and Arabic sayings. Not like Larissa Duan.

Larissa Duan, who wears ripped jeans and oversized flannels like she doesn’t even know how good she looks in them. Larissa Duan, who can be caught kicking ass at a beer pong table at midnight, then in the art building blaring music and staring at canvases by 8 A.M. the next morning. Larissa Duan, who changes her hair every semester, not because of any trend, but because she wants to. Larissa Duan, who has an entire NCAA hockey team’s respect and allegiance. Larissa Duan, who is fearless and badass and yet still incredibly kind.

Camilla is popular, sure, but Larissa Duan is cool, and it’s intimidating as hell.

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