insert rabid raccoon

mycentaurs are NOT groaning at hollanov's pda or telling them to get a room or feeling even a morsel of discomfort when they kiss in the locker room. they are enablers and romantics. one of the first things we see when troy comes out and says he's dating harris is bood telling him to give harris a good luck kiss, and i wholeheartedly believe they're all the same way with shane and ilya. they're at a barbecue and it's why do you need another chair?? just sit on his lap you're married?? if they aren't bickering at practice, everyone turns into amateur marriage counselors and forces them to kiss and make up. the rookies call them their mom and dad (with bood as a third parent and being daddy, of course). they could start describing their sex life in detail and at least 3/4 of the room would be nodding their head and asking follow up questions. that locker room is shameless and supportive

every hollanov fic ive read totally ignores the existence the book svetlana in favor of show svetlana and i just think thats beautiful

we can’t talk here contact me in my dream tonight

if shane hadnt gotten hit and ilya had really gone over to his place to try and break it off with him i imagine that shane wouldve been sooo happy ilyas here hes coming through the Front Door and he has the code and ilya wouldve been like 'i need to talk to you' and shane wouldve been kind of giddy all smiles 'me too... ive been wanting to ask you - would you, i mean, if you wanted you could come stay with me at my cottage this summer. for a few weeks. or one. or whatever. its really private, we'd have it all to ourselves.' and hed be doing his little frog smile and ilya would just be [tampa hotel room style groan] [tampa hotel room style we cant do this] [fold and cave and say he'll 'think about it']

everyday i mourn that my parents did not make me study five languages during my critical window of language acquisition (2 to 7 years)

washing your face is actually multi tasking because you are also washing your hands and forearms and shirt and countertop and feet and floor and hair

hey, don't cry. fictional character in dire & perilous situations. ok?