Santana cares about Britt, but not enough to skip practice, because what kind of precedent would that set when Santana needs to go out and do other college-related things? Would she stop living her life and never leave her dorm room because Brittany is sad and wants to Skype? Granted, something extreme like death of a family member could warrant Santana’s undivided attention, cheerleading practice be damned, but it’s about balance, and Brittana have a lot more of that than most people give them credit for.

Confused as to why my Master Cleanse post is making the rounds again.

*side-eyes Roch*

Oddly enough, the best thing about a Pizza Hut in Nanjing was its mashed potatoes. Never even bothered to touch the pizza there. #weird

Please tell me more about this sojourn in Nanjing.

so…wait, is the cheerleader who is prominent in “Tongue Tied” here?

No, the cheerleader who hugged Rachel is not on the Troubletones.

what even are these questions you’re getting…like it started with fic opinions and then it got awkwardly dirty (not even wanky…just, awk).

I don’t know but this has quite possibly been the most entertaining evening on tumblr I’ve ever had.

I care about the Reverend a lot.

Me toooo.

Who doesn’t love a good magic and unicorns metaphor for inspiration?

Kurt Hummel

Oh my god! No! No! No! No! “Mrs. Pierce,” though. Whhhhy?

I’ve been calling Santana that for a while…

What are you doing to my heart tho
KAIROS I WILL BEAT YOU UP WITH A BAG OF MY USED KLEENEX

JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE WHAT JJ WROTE TO ME, I WILL POST IT IN A FEW MINUTES.

A Cyrano de Bergerac reference and future!Sugar implications? Me gusta.

Rostand’s play about him is one of the most delightful things.

Also I actually have a copy of the real Cyrano’s L’Autre Monde: où les États et Empires de la Lune and its sequel at home in California.

“Mama? Mama? Come on. You gotta get up. Mama? We gotta go home. Help! Somebody! Anybody? Help.”

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS STOP *sobs and coughs and clutches chest*

Brittany: …Santana?

Sugar: No. It’s me.

Brittany: Sugar? You’re alive? How can that be?

Sugar: It doesn’t matter; I’m home.