Tag: (hope this is okay!)

whispcrscreams‌.

the raven haired man took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, as he was let into the party that a friend had invited him to. he was beyond exhausted, muscles aching with every movement he made. dustin wanted nothing more than to soak in a tub full of hot water with his favorite musical soundtracks playing the background, eyes closed and relaxing for once. but, between the show that he’d recently joined and the fact that he’d already agreed to attend this stupid party, he had no choice but to skip out on the bath and put in an appearance.

feeling more than a little grumpy, he put on a show for his friend, all wide smiles and playful banter as he subtly edged away from them and started towards the bar. if he was going to get through this, he definitely needed a stiff drink. barely repressing a yawn, he leaned against the bar and put in his order, a part of his mind wondering if he should have just said fuck it and given an excuse not to come. 

“I swear I know you from somewhere,” Blaine sat at the bar rocking a glass back and forth in his hand.  Eyes were narrowed into the contents.  A light tan mixed with ice and the smell of wooden barrels and liquor came from it as the ice cubes clinked together.  Whiskey that he’s been nursing way too long but even though high school and Ohio were a couple years away?  Time had done nothing to help him build up any sort of admirable tolerance for the stuff.  

In other words?  He was still a bumbling lightweight that only needed maybe two of these and he’d be stumbling out to a cab way past the borderline of buzzed and heading straight to Drunk Town.  

Recognition finally lit his face up and he turned on the stool, heels of brown leather dress shoes hooked into the rung of his chair tucking back in place.  “Golds–Goolsby..,” he hummed when he nailed the name, “You were the Vocal Adrenaline coach.  How long’ve you been here? New York, I mean?”  If Blaine could wager a guess, the reason they were both at the party was because of one thing.  The stage had to be it.  Blaine had barely gotten his shoes scuffed by it (better than saying feet wet) yet but with the small part in the play he nabbed?  He might be on his way?

dave. 

( sms ) i think that depends on the context.
( sms ) what kind of dream is it?

( mssg » dave | sent ) What if the context makes it weird?

( mssg » dave | sent )

You promise not to judge me too harshly if it does?

( mssg » dave | sent )

You’re free to tell me to shut up at any time! 

( mssg » dave | sent )

I just want to put that disclaimer on the table.

@damagebuilt ; continued from here.

Blaine couldn’t believe the time that stared back at him when he hit the button on his phone to make the screen glow.  2:36am.  So much for getting out of the theater at any sensible time.  Did he really lose track of time that bad?  Apparently so.  But the acoustics when it was only him and a security guard he barely saw past eleven o’clock were too beautiful not to play and write until his heart was content and all the music he had to get out of his mind onto paper stopped.  

Though once he stepped outside into the freezing New York City winter?  Maybe cutting himself off before the temperature dropped to a ridiculous amount of awful would have been the better idea.  Frigid or not. One thing you could rely on unless the city looked like the Day After Tomorrow was the cab system.  Breath coming out in clouds of gray, he jogged to the sidewalk waving the entire way there to get it’s attention..and practically collided with someone doing the same thing.

“Sorry!”  The cab came to an abrupt stop, the horn honked and the driver yelled to them to get in through the window he refused to wind down.  “I..um..  It’s freezing but I can go back in there.” He thumbed towards the dark theater just behind them.  “You take this one.”

@beautifullyxxunstable

meme continuation. @reigningwiidow

Blaine’s ankle felt like it was caught between breaking in half and on fire.  A makeshift walking stick and being able to half walk wasn’t going to get him back to The Sanctuary before it got darker.  He needed to find somewhere safe until morning.  His pulse was already racing at the idea of being stuck outside alone all night.  Hand barely touching the grip of his gun when he got a clearing, then a road.  All clear.  Or..not.  Stopping as he turned towards a noise and ended up a gun pointed directly at him..  You know what it feels like to have your heart momentarily stop? Nothing new, not in this world anymore, but it was never a feeling anyone could get used to. Eyes round as saucers stared up the barrel at the woman behind it, his stick hit the floor and his hands went in the air.

“I’m sorry!  I messed up my foot and–it’s getting dark.  I was only looking for a place..”  Half sentences and the mantra of please don’t kill me in his head was all he had as he stood resting most of his weight on his left foot praying that this wasn’t how his story was about to end.

😳

Less “meet cute.”  More “meet ugly.”
32. – My muse catches your muse writing something about them on a bathroom wall.  @yuffieindierps (Kurt)

image

Blaine leaned against the cold tile of the bathroom wall not more than two feet from where Kurt–with marker in hand–was apparently too busy to notice he walked inside just as he was finishing up his ‘masterpiece’.  “Excuse me?  I couldn’t help noticing an artist at work.  Especially when I think that’s my name written in your latest creation.  Would you mind reading me the rest outloud?  Sorry, I can’t make out the details from here,” he totally could but the grin on his mouth and the twinkle in his eye said that he wasn’t about to admit to it.