loves Cupcake Wars. he has seen every episode. anyone watching Cupcake Wars with him should be prepared to lose their hearing.
“DONNA OH MY GOD!!! FLORIAN H A T E S RED VELVET HAVE YOU NOT DONE YOUR RESEARCH???” “PREMADE DECORATIONS??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME JAMAL???” “you do know they can’t hear you” “SHOW ME WHERE I ASKED KEITH!!!! JESUS GOD!!!!!!”
knows every word of My House by Flo Rida and belts it at the top of his lungs whenever possible
cites Wannabe by the Spice Girls as one of the best songs in human history
eats food while food is in the microwave/oven
Lance: *walks into the kitchen* Hunk: hey babe, dinner will be ready in like ten minutes. Lance: *opening the cupboard and grabbing the peanut butter jar* awesome, what are we having? Hunk: lasagna! Lance: *eating peanut butter straight from the jar* can’t wait! Hunk: ….what are you doing. Lance: eating a snack? Hunk: ……………
definitely drinks pickle juice straight from the jar
Lance: what? Pidge: you disgust me
hates shoes. finds them limiting. goes without them whenever possible
has some serious callouses because of it
has definitely stepped in gum barefoot
if he has to wear shoes he wears flipflips bc its the least shoe like shoe that exists
has clinical depression. he tries to hide it under jokes and fake smiles, but it’s there. he tries to talk about how he feels as little as humanly possible.
has two moms!!
hunk also has two moms, and that commonality is a large part of the reason their moms became friends. and because their moms were friends, they’ve been friends since birth.
is very passionate about his love of goldfish
will wear tank tops at every opportunity
very vocal when he sees someone being bullied in public. it’s the big brother in him. if he sees someone being picked on, he’s going to stand up for them, whether he knows them or not.
fun graphic tees are his jam. his only regret about leaving the garrison for space when he did is that he was wearing the most boring shirt in his closet. now who knows when he’ll see his star wars t shirt collection again??
Loud And Proud Bisexual
is really good at predicting the endings to movies??? no one likes sitting next to him in the theater bc he’ll whisper his prediction for all the plot twists and he’s always freaking right.
overuses the 💯 emoji
is anemic and needs to take iron pills to keep Big And Strong
also ends up kicking all stuffed animals/blankets/pillows onto the floor during the course of the night. even he doesn’t know how he does it.
is always the one who’s slightly blurry or has his eyes closed in group photos
snapchat story is always a liiiiittle bit too long
really bad at magic tricks
*throws balled up paper at trash can* “kobe!” *misses*
would lay down his life for nike products
at every social outing involving money ever: *nudges Hunk* “hey dude can you spot me”
hates crocs. with a burning passion. they are disgusting. why would any human being want them on their body. why.
loves fanny packs. practical. colorful. a bold fashion statement. he owns five.
in any and every social situation: *dabs*
really bad at accepting honest compliments. all of his confidence is exaggerated for humor. he’s low key really insecure, and so when people earnestly compliment him, he really doesn’t know how to take it.
great at braiding hair.
has about 20 snapchat streaks at a time
a lil bit of a helicopter friend. he doesn’t necessarily always know what to do what to make his friends feel better, but he wants to help, so he has a bit of a habit of hovering when he doesn’t know what else to do.
enjoys tofu a lot
his hair gets wavy when it grows out more
has never had a sunburn in his life. his tan lines though??? horrible
I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was an amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantine and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.