Category: Uncategorized

mickey.

                mickey chuckles.     he can be a thug. he can shake a more than a few motherfuckers down— but THIS CULTURE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND HIM.             made up words to classify himself.        THE BEST DAMN BOTTOM.   “ okay okay. so you got a friend that thinks you wanna play with a rough and tumble street boy? a little thug action? you’re cute, country boy.     if you got a fetish for trash I’M DOWN TO PLAY. “

      “I’m not sure what he was thinking but he must think we’d get along.  Or he wouldn’t have set us up.”  A fetish for trash?  What was Trent thinking about this arrangement?  Well–obviously–one of the boys at Dalton that knew him best must have thought something was going to connect the two.  Now, it was time to test his theory and figure out WHAT it was. “Come on.  It’s one night. If it works,” he shrugged sharply, “Great.  If not?  At least we gave it a go.” A thumb motioned over his shoulder in the direction of his car and he arched an eyebrow. “Mind if I drive?  There was a spot that came to mind when I texted you.  I just hope you like it.”

cirque du jerk.

                 “The thought of using that shiny, reflective, hard surface you call hair to your advantage has never crossed your mind? Oh, ma cherie. Obviously Throat Explosion is at a much higher level, artistically, but we both already knew that.”

He looked down at Blaine, quite literally, smiling down evilly at his shorter competitor. Jean couldn’t wait to show the New Directions what his show choir had to offer. He wanted to take them down.

                 “You think you stand a chance that’s precious. And I’m from Montreal. I’m French Canadian. You have read about me from the show choir blogs, no? I grew up with the cirque, all the more reason for you to be intimidated. I float across a stage. Might as well give up while you’re ahead, little bug.”

Ma cherie?  Isn’t that how the French address women?  Blaine burrowed his brows and canted his head to the side at that before blinking it away.  There was no way he’d budge under the maniacal smile/grin/whatever Jean was casting down at him.  No way.

“Why would I bother reading about you in the show choir blogs?  I don’t think you’re that interesting of a subject to hone in on.”  He read every article he could get his hands on about their biggest competitor.  Obviously–a small fact of Jean being FAKE FRENCH (or something–Blaine was getting desperate for any kind of way to knock this guy down in his mind so he could speak without stuttering) slipped his mind.

“Precious?”  Speaking of French?  Blaine suddenly wished Sebastian was here.  Anything to have someone with a sharp tongue to have his back.  No such luck–he was going solo on this one.  Only him and Jean Baptiste.  Why’d he go for coffee? “I’m sorry.  I don’t think it’s possible for someone with as big of a head as yours to float anywhere.  We’re not giving up. OR losing to a show choir group named Throat Explosion.  What kind of a name is that anyway?”

sebastian.

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         ❝No. That would be the day that I disown the holiday all together. People are always trying to move so quick. I only get one night in October to terrorize people acceptably but YET I’m being taunted with Christmas music before December even starts? This isn’t a democracy.❞

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“Weird.  I didn’t know you limited terrorizing people to one night a year.  Isn’t every day acceptable in your eyes?  You know I’m going to hold you to that statement now?  That means no more torturing poor RACHEL at any chance you get.  Are you telling me putting up Christmas lights on the balcony was a bad idea?

—Just kidding.  I know better.  Don’t look at me like that!”

meme continuation. @brighterthanwhisperingwords​

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You’d think Blaine would’ve learned his lesson from the first game of Spin the Bottle ending up with him having his very first kiss with a girl who happened to be Rachel Berry.  You’d think he would know to stay out of it this go round.  Yet–apparently not.  Here he was–laughing like a fool on the floor in his living room joining right in when Sam mentioned the idea.  Wasn’t it some rule that there couldn’t be any observers in Spin the Bottle anyway?  Sort of an all in kind of deal?  When Tina’s spin landed square on him–the whole room went into peals of laughter than dead silence of anticipation to see if he’d go through with it. 

All eyes were on them and he wasn’t ready to have to face weeks of trying to live this down if he backed out.  Mirroring Tina’s neck rub–he gave her a lopsided grin and waved off the idea she did this on purpose.  She didn’t–right?  “Oh come on.  It’s not that big of a deal and you’re making it way more devious than this was.  I mean–it’s just a–.  You know what?”  Rolling up onto his knees–Blaine leaned over the board and shoved any nervous hesitation out of the way at the curl of his fingertips against Tina’s cheek to draw her in.  “Ready..?”  Letting go–he smiled that same, easy ear to ear smile he was known for as his breath ghosted over her mouth before he sealed their lips together in a gentle press.

brittany.

     perhaps actually listening to blaine speak was a mistake. he probably didn’t realize how much the question hurt her, but brittany sort of wished quinn and santana were around to take him down for her all the same. she hadn’t logged into most of her social media accounts and had traded phones with tubbs to make sure she wasn’t tempted to check in. and, to be blunt, because she was afraid santana wouldn’t be checking in on her. ‘she’s been really busy lately. college is hard.’ she bit her bottom lip and shifted from foot to foot. ‘do you hear from kurt a lot?’ 

Blaine noticed the subtle changes of Brittany’s expression and regretted his question. Even worse?  It was selfish but there was a thought that if Santana might not be contacting her much that maybe how little he’s heard from Kurt might be normal.  You know?  Perfectly okay. Because it was happening to someone else and that someone else was someone who loved Santana as much as he loved Kurt.  And vice versa.  Yeah? Why’d it suddenly just make him feel like he wished he could take asking her back when he had to answer her as honestly as she answered him?  Or as honest as what–definitely–sounded like someone trying to convince themselves what they were saying was as okay.  Just like he was.  “I–I–no,” he perked up and smiled but his voice was pitched,  “He’s settling in–.  Getting used to the big city. I’m sure in a couple weeks?  We won’t be able to hang up the phone as usual.  I’m sure it’s the same with Santana.  We can hang in there together until then?  If you want?”

lrhofrps:

i want 

  • ships with exes  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
  • ships with exes who hate each other  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
  • ships with exes who secretly love each other  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
  • ships with exes who have a kid  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
  • ships with exes who still fuck  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

SHIPS WITH EXES  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.”

hurt meme.  @ofscarllet

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“No, I don’t think you realize how not okay I am.  I haven’t heard from you in five days.  No one could tell me where you were.  Or if you were okay.  Or coming back.  Your phone went right to voicemail.  After three?  I couldn’t stop thinking the worst happened.  Don’t ever do that again. Please?”  Blaine held Barry so tight that he could barely breathe but he’d felt like that for practically a week already.  At least having him here.  Home and safely in his arms?  Not being able to get any air because he was holding Barry so tight was better than feeling like his chest was caving in because he’d never see him again.

elliott.

“Please don’t go.” It slipped out before he even thought about it, gripping Blaine’s hand in both of his own and just clinging to him as if his life depended on their hands staying connected, keeping the contact.

Well that just looked needy. Elliott dropped his hand again, looking around the room and taking a step back as he panicked, racking a hand through his hair. Oh god oh god oh god, what should be do? He should tell Blaine, it was only fair, but he didn’t want to pressure him or anything and…

Fuck it.

Elliott rushed forwards, cupping Blaine’s face with both of his hands and holding it there. Now or never, huh? He pressed forwards, crushing his lips against Blaine’s for a few seconds before letting go and taking a step back. Wild hair, a panicked expression and half dressed, Elliott knew he looked like a mess but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I’m sorry for that.”

Maybe getting out and going for a walk would make this better?  Or he could come back to Elliott kicking him out because leaving him alone only made things worse.  What then?  

Affording his own place wasn’t the problem.  Blaine had enough resources to take care of things the morning after everything dissolved into nothing.  What he didn’t and couldn’t bring himself to do was be alone.  That was where the real fear rested.  From what seemed like clockwork now, Blaine realized he might’ve messed this up too.  By just walking in at the wrong time.

His bewildered stare went to their hands.  He held his breath waiting to be told that this situation wasn’t going to work and felt his heart sink. A weight suddenly turned upside down when Elliott was suddenly there, holding his face and crashing their mouths together.  He felt himself swoon into the kiss–an effect that lasted after Elliott was pulled away and made Blaine sway forward before catching himself and opened his eyes staring blankly ahead before meeting Elliott’s.

Elliott wanted him?  And he swallowed thick, heart pounding.

“–No.  Don’t apologize again.  Especially not for that,” he whispered tasting Elliott’s kiss when he licked his lips.  –Don’t be sorry.  Please don’t be sorry.  Be anything but sorry.  Can’t deal with sorry right now.–  “Or you could do it again and not be sorry this time?”

kurt.

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“Blaine, if you keep giving me reasons to believe you’re out of your mind — I’m going to go out of MY mind. I’m not afraid of the psycho killer on netflix! I’m afraid of you losing brain cells. Keep it up && you might just turn into Sam, or BRITTANY. As much as I love it when you call me honey, you better hold your tongue. I’m not lightening up just because you’re irresistibly adorable. No more episodes. Turn off your electronics, I’ll order food, && try to come up with ways to keep you from falling into a television coma ever again. What do I have to do? Sell the tv? Punish you when you get past four hours or something?”

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“That was very hurtful to both Sam and Brittany and I’m glad they aren’t here to risk the chance of hearing it.  Wait–you won’t?  What if I make sure I’m really REALLY cute?  Two. More. Episodes??  Please?  You can’t expect me to be able to move on not knowing what happens in the last two!  They’ll be over before you know it and-and then!?  I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you and prove that I’m not a television serial killer addict. Or whatever you think I am. Oh?  Oh.  Um?  That depends.  What sort of punishment are we talking about?

Because I could be up for discussing this idea..
       …Probably a bad time to try that move, huh?  I love you?”