“It seems like a pattern is developing in my life.”

random inbox goodness.

“What do you mean by that,” he asked but Blaine already knew the answer. Four times now Lip had suddenly called him with plans that overrode their plans to do whatever and four times he called back an hour or so later just to tell him those plans fell through and they were still on. Four calls. Four out of four cancelled plans only to have Lip show up at his apartment with an apology and a weekend back on the Southside because that’s where they always went.

Blaine had the number on lockdown in his brain because as hard as he tried not to read too much into it? He couldn’t help getting the idea that there was something more behind the fact that every time Lip tried to cancel? He didn’t. How every time he tried to back out, their one night of plans ended up becoming two or three depending on how long the weekend lasted. How could a person with any rational thought process not start to think something was up? Knowing he could be oblivious to things occasionally was something he’d long since accepted about himself. But it’d take a completely daft person not to catch onto the pattern that was rapidly rising up between the two of them.

Considering that tonight was almost number five. Blaine knew it because their texts started out the same way all the others that ended up with uncancelled-cancelled plans. However, they ended long before Lip tossed him a different version of the same old line and the phone went strangely quiet. Only to have a knock on his door ten minutes later and Lip here with beers, something extra as he put it, and a bag over his shoulder that Blaine had a suspicion wouldn’t be leaving the chair he’d thrown it on.

With a thunderstorm brewing outside and the threat of hail keeping them at Blaine’s place for the night instead of making the drive, they were going to make the best of the weekend regardless. “Elaborate as much as you’d like.,” he smiled over his shoulder as he tugged his loosened bow tie through his collar and laid it out on top of his dresser fully preparing to enjoy their downtime in far more comfortable clothes. “You have me way too curious to stop there.”

theoreticalguardianangel.

Barry breathed out a chuckle and even though he noticed the way in which Blaine’s smile wobbled, his did not.   Social interactions had always posed a challenge; other people’s hesitation made insecurity emerge in his heart, being pumped all around his system, fearing as though he might be the reason why they felt uncomfortable, or bored, or whatever it was that had them looking put off by their conversation.   More often than not he remained oblivious to the fact that the true reason might have been that he was making the other person as flushed and nervous as they were making him.   This time, however, was different.   Now he wouldn’t go as far as smugly claiming Blaine was totally into him ( he could see in his manner that there was more to the story he could not explicitly ask to hear just yet ), but suddenly interacting didn’t feel like such a struggle.

Instead, with the warmth he could feel taking over his smile and his inability to tear his eyes from his face, he felt as though he was communicating exactly what he wanted; how comforted and flattered and honored he felt to be deemed as special company.   He was not worrying about staying silent for too long, or whether or not he was coming off as creepy by looking at him longer than he should have been, or any other thought that would have normally been tormenting him.   Even if he did manage to make heat rise up his face every now and again, and a goofy bashful smile spread across his lips in spite of himself, interacting with Blaine was inexplicably easy.   It was new and comforting and nothing he could see himself jeopardizing by doing something as senseless as overthinking.

Perhaps it was that new, comforting feeling, or the relief of no longer subjecting himself to his insecurity, or the sight of twinkling Christmas lights bouncing off Blaine’s face ( he had yet to find a lighting that did not flatter him ), but the speedster felt as though a great weight had temporarily been lifted off his shoulders.   He slid his hands into his pockets, looking around his home. Acting humble would have proven futile; the pictures of three smiling faces ( and a few recent of four and more ) decorating every flat surface on the room spoke for themselves.   “I used to do this thing when I was a kid.”   He jerked his head towards the star on the top of the tree, suddenly blinking in a rhythmic pattern as though dancing to a mute Christmas carol.   “It blinks like that for a few seconds every couple of minutes and I used to think that… if I caught it while it was blinking and made a wish before it stopped, it’d come true.”

Everything about Barry and this house and the people inside the pictures that called it home exuded so much warmth it was impossible not to feel it seep inside of you and make you feel like this is exactly where you wanted to be. Especially on a night like tonight. When it was supposed to be spent with those you love, the ones you want to keep the closest to yourself. People you couldn’t imagine living without. And here he was, standing beside someone so perfectly new. So apart from anything in his past that it made him feel like he could build something from the ground up for the first time in such a long time that hope was an emotion that was impossible not to feel. Something he had told himself time and time again that he’d be more cautious of settling into the idea of. Hope could bring so many problems with it if placed in the wrong person or given to the wrong idea or thing. If he was going to let himself feel that with someone again? Blaine promised himself it’d be someone who wouldn’t…

Clearing his throat and breathing past where his mind was trailing off to, hazel eyes darted up to the blinking star on top of the tree. “Okay that’s the most adorable thing ever and now I’m making you wait here until it happens again. Whether you like it or not. I mean. We could always use a wish or two coming true. Couldn’t we?” Without thinking, without so much as a pause, Blaine’s hand crept out and his fingers laced through the slender length of Barry’s gathering them in a loose, tentative grip that strengthened once he caught his attention again and smiled. “Have I told you how grateful I am that you invited me over tonight? You have no idea how much it means. That you’d even want to.”

His lips twitched into a small smile as the edge of his thumb grazed back and forth over the side of Barry’s hand. Tearing his gaze away and back up to the glowing star up above, he narrowed his gaze thoughtfully almost like he was gearing himself up to catch it at the very first sign it might be ready to start blinking. “What would you wish for tonight? Or am I not supposed to ask that because it won’t come true if you tell me? I forget the rules,” he mused with a crease of wonder formed between his eyebrows, “Do you think that only pertains to birthday wishes? Cause I’m thinking Christmas ones are way more powerful and should be able to override any limits. Don’t you?”

elliott.

Elliott jumped – well, TENSED was a better word for it – at the hand to his shoulder, fighting the basic instinct to turn and address the person talking to him. Manners battling it out with what was asked of him.

He relaxed into the touch as soon as it happened none the less, a fleeting reaction before limbs turned loose, just another show of how greatly he trusted Blaine. Always would trust him.

“You sound like I’mma make a break for the door.” Was all Elliott said before turning around on the ball of his foot, a bright smile BLOOMING across his face as he took in the mess of curls. That was even worse than he’d been expecting – and in ALL the right ways.

Hands lifted to cup Blaine’s face, starting on his cheeks and steadily RAKING back through his hair, feeling the texture and dampness under inked hands. When they went far enough for fingertips to touch, Elliott gripped tightly for a fraction of a second, hands dropping to Blaine’s shoulders.

Never able to keep his hands OFF him.

He would’ve said something, but what do you say? ‘I like them,’ was so cliche, laughing so cruel, so what was he MEANT to do?

Pulling Blaine into a kiss seemed like a good option, hands sliding back up to pull him forwards for a tender kiss, his head tilting to one side as he drew the moment out.

“See? Now isn’t that better?”

“You might. Who knows? I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” He grinned, only half-joking. They all had their insecurities. Every person in his life did. No matter how small or how big. They were there and stole the worst moments possible to dig into their confidence. His, one of them in spite of the fact he liked to believe he’d put them all behind him–there were a few that lingered, happened to be his mess of curls that he called hair not being under some semblance of control.

Seeing the smile–the shorter of the pair shifted on his feet and even curled his toes against the tile trying to gauge what the smile meant. Unsurety crunched up his nose and caused his eyes to squint questioningly.

Then Elliott’s hands where on his cheeks and he curled his fingers around the his wrists to keep them close. Even moved with them as they ran through his hair and made him rock slightly onto his heels. Feeling the slight tug against the back of his head made him swallow hard and a rush of color ran up the sides of his neck with goosebumps chasing after it.

Whew! Okay. That sensation was an amazing pay off for possible self-induced humiliation.

Being kissed when he was vulnerable enough to consider how he might be able to fit underneath the clawed feet of the bathtub if Elliott didn’t say anything sooner rather than later was exactly what he needed. And he stayed lifted onto the balls of his feet so their mouths wouldn’t leave their close proximity to one another.

“Yeah.. I guess you can say it is,” he grinned a dopey, happy grin as his nerves began to untangle. Another kiss and he’d be in heaven. So, he stole one. Cause when in Rome?

hermione. @thebrightestwltch

“how is it you seem to be the absolute sweetest boy I have ever met?” Hermione asked, incredulity and admiration shining bright in both her elated tone, and the way her eyes filled with absolute wonder every time she found his. And it was true that after years of Harry and Ron —who she both adored with every fiber of her being, they left a little to be desired. especially in the way they treated her sometimes without having realized it. Blaine however, was putting everyone she’d ever met to shame. And sure, it was nice to have other friends throughout the castle, but right now, she was legitimately having the best time.

When she’d put out posters looking for new S.P.E.W members, the sign ups went ignored for the most part. but when she’d sought out volunteers to give back and host a ‘HOUSE ELF APPRECIATION DAY’… Two names had been added. Luna Lovegood and Blaine Anderson. So there they were, half past eight, alone (for once) in the kitchens, baking up batches of treats to dole out. “honestly Blaine, you MUST enlighten the boys for me. Sometimes they make me crazy, they’re completely daft when it comes to this sort of thing.” Their conversation had already spanned a million of often untouched topics that Hermione rarely got to indulge upon. “Ginny had told me that was all boys, and well, she grew up with brothers! All of them, whereas me? Well, I’ve just had dad, really.” Who was without a doubt wonderful. “And I hadn’t anyone prove me wrong, though Professor Dumbledore truly did seem wonderful, I just don’t know him on that sort of level, you know? And obviously I’m not ignorant, but I had been losing hope.”

“But you’re such a breath of fresh air.” And Hermione was very quickly flying too close to the sun as she gushed, the sleeves of her button up rolled up as she created a well out of the flour in front of her on the wooden table, the beginnings of dough when she reached for the eggs. Hermione’s eyes shot up as a clatter of metal on stone came from behind them, causing her to snap around. “Oh, Luna! Are you all right?”

Hermione was quickly becoming one of the people inside the castle he adored so much that simply encountering her caused him to immediately light up so bright his smile could put the sun to shame. Seeing her lovingly crafted S.P.E.W. posters for a day she invented out of the kindness of her heart? That was the sort of thing that Blaine Anderson would never, in a million years, be able to resist signing up for. Giving some sort of comfort and respect to the poor creatures that so many families took for granted, regardless if they had feelings, emotions and needs like the very wizards they ‘served’, was the best way to spend a night. No matter if he had plans or not. Which..he didn’t.

Hunched over the dough he was delicately sealing the edges together of on each painstakingly filled chocolate with mint creme stuffing cookie, the tip of his tongue jutted out between his lips in his concentration. His smile continued to grow as he listened to her rant about the boys in her life thankful that she put a disclaimer at the beginning by saying he needed to teach them a lesson. Something he was grateful for, yet mystified by at the same time. (What set him apart from her best friends? Why wasn’t he as hopeless as the rest of the lot she was clumping together?) Well. For one, he was the only boy in this school that showed up to spend hours getting finger cramps to ensure their treats were perfect. That might be a good start on figuring out why he was now tasked with doling out life lessons on not being so..boyishly boys.

“I’ll try but I hope you realize the enormity of the task you are asking me to accomplish. I’ve seen how clueless some of your closest friends can be. And you’re hoping I can enlighten the whole lot of them? Even if it’s just kitchen tips and tricks? It’s going to be enough work trying to make sure no one burns the castle to the ground.” He playfully countered her argument and peeked up over the lip of the large metal bowl directly in front of the floured surface he was working on. His nose scrunched at the thought of how messy things could potentially get. “I’m glad I could help you hold–?!” Blaine nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud noises crashing down behind them. The cookie he was working on hit the table with a plunk of dough as he pivoted around blinking owlishly at the girl. “Yeah, are you okay? What happened??”

sam. @samsreckoning

( mssg » blaine | sent ) okay whoa hwoa whao whao whao hold on
( mssg » blaine | sent ) like is this a random sickness
( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is it a like, you had shellfish kinda sickness? every single time dad orders it he gets sick altho i really dont know what the difference between shellfish and shrimp and stuff is
( mssg » blaine | sent ) or is this a “i think i got possessed from that ouija board” kinda projectile vomiting? i really hope not because i so dont wanna tell my priest that we’ve been screwin around in the dark
( mssg » blaine | sent ) ok whao like not with each other but with the whole ghost thing
( mssg » blaine | sent ) wait blaine you dont really think this is a posession do you?
( mssg » blaine | sent ) god im on my way over are u okay? can i grab u anything? (minus a priest pls tell me this isnt a ouija thing im seriously crossing my fingers)
( mssg » blaine | sent ) really hope this isnt like they made it out to be in this is the end

Never thought I would say those two things in the same sentence togetheR but here we are. I just did
( mssg » sam | sent ) I think its’ the amoutn of liquor I drank. Oh and how cheap itwas. Top shelf

( mssg » sam | sent ) I promise I’m not possessed. Even if it realy llooks like it right now.

( mssg » sam | sent ) Would it be too much to aks you to come get me?
( mssg » sam | sent ) No Linda blaeir head turns or talking abckwards will happen between here and my hourse.I swear on my life

nostoriesleftuntold.

Hunter was amused – to say the least. Blaine’s over apologetic expression when all 5’ 7" of him poured into the choir room was enough to tell Hunter he had him on the hook. He was flustered and off his game and Hunter couldn’t even blame him. However he couldn’t just let him go without reprimand when he was screwing up so much in front of the rest of the team. “Tighter turns, Anderson.” He called, counting out the tempo as he walked around the group and shook his head in disappointment as he neared Blaine, “Get it together.” He mumbled under his breath, his watchful eye staying with Blaine, today, as he often found, unable to tear his gaze from the newest Warbler and watching him with intrigue.

When Hunter finally dismissed the rehearsal he’d pulled Sebastian aside, speaking with his assistant captain in hushed tones, scolding him quietly before sending him off, watching him close the door behind him and giving an appreciative nod before he turned his attention to Blaine. “I don’t know how you ran this team. But I govern with a firm hand. I don’t allow for members that are tardy. That can’t keep up with choreography. That don’t regard my authority, for what it is. And that is: absolute. I express something, and that is final. You’re a Warbler under my leadership and I demand complete submission and respect. Understood?” His voice never wavered, sure, still and slow as he let words that sounded almost rehearsed fall from his lips with casual ease.

He let the new information settle, and truly in some ways he felt for the other. Blaine was used to being worshiped at Dalton, and he was adored, but Hunter’s aspirations didn’t allow for nepotism, they didn’t give out special exceptions, especially to someone he barely knew. Soon Blaine would understand – at least partially, though Hunter doubted anyone would ever comprehend the extent of pressure he felt was riding on his very broad shoulders. “Please tell me you understand, Blaine?:

Worriedly watching Sebastian, Blaine chewed against his bottom lip as he observed the exchange between the two. There was going to be no way he wouldn’t screw his day up even further if he felt he needed to step in for Sebastian’s sake. The taller boy did his best to reach out to him, to get him up to speed. It was his fault that they hadn’t been able to connect yet. He needed time to breathe, time to deflate and reacquaint himself with his surroundings. Honestly, he’d brushed off the attempts with honest apologies and reasons why. Though, now, it was obvious why Hunter was trying so hard before. A mental note was made to make sure they met up before practice tomorrow so he could offer an apology and all the time Sebastian might need to make this right.

No sooner did the door click than Hunter ripped his attention from it, breaking his thoughts from the subject of Sebastian and snapping them directly to the Captain. “I didn’t run this team,” he murmured under his breath, “We all did.” But any amount of counterpoint to what he had being served to him ended abruptly when his mistakes were pointed out. Blaine couldn’t remember a time when he felt his heart racing as fast as it was. Nothing could compare to the flash of fire that blazed inside his gaze only to be battled back on his own accord with a drawn in breath that ensured his jawline wouldn’t clench so he’d keep his mouth shut. He bit down on his tongue to make sure it stayed that way.

He couldn’t lose this chance. Dalton and the Warblers were all he had left. Just the thought of going through every day not being a part of them made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. Complete submission? You’ve got to be kidding.. Blaine never swallowed as many words as he did in the small pause he took while meeting Hunter’s eyes. “I swore it won’t happen again and it won’t.” The words tasted like he bit into the bitter pill of his relent, “I swore it won’t happen again and it won’t.” Coming home wasn’t supposed to feel this way. Not like he’d just bit into the bitter pill of his relent and was forced to chew it before he swallowed it. “I..understand.” There. What else did he want? The question was obvious with a barely there lift of Blaine’s eyebrow.

Savitar.

^{Needless to say that as far as personalities were concerned, in comparison to his doppelganger’s, his was significantly deficient. He was nowhere near as clever, as debonair in character, not to mention his eyes lacked that noticeable, twisted corruption that had drawn the deity to him in the first place. A tingle of electricity shoot its way down his spine at the mere thought of those amoral eyes.}

^{‘I miss you’ was not a phrase existing in Savitar’s repertoire. His numb, unfeeling persona prevented him from claiming the absence of the other actually affected him at all, as a matter of fact. Nevertheless, he caught himself running the back of his finger down the other’s cheek, because there was one thing he had to admit—— he was just as pretty as the Meister. Evidently, if there was still something linking him to the person he had once been centuries ago, that was the taste in men as far as aesthetics went.}

^{“You don’t even know what you’re doing here, do you?” There was, after all, something else still linking him to Barry Allen: his memories. Much as he tried, he couldn’t remember anything about Blaine learning whose face laid behind the Flash’s cowl. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it simple. Someone out there cares about you. He’s trying to find you, he’s coming after you. I’m gonna need you to stay right here until he does.”}

Blaine’s nose crinkled at the throbbing in his temples, eyes pinched shut as he opened them too fast and got a little dizzy. No doubt it had to do with how he’d gone unconscious after a struggle that seemed to last only a second before the world went zipping by in time with the darkness seeping into his head and then lights out! and he was gone.

For the first few moments after opening them and letting the pain in his head run it’s course before it faded into a strangely warm, yet numb, sensation–Blaine tried to piece together what happened, where he was, and what was going on. Then it hit him. A voice from behind on his way home from the theater. He barely had time to turn around and caught a glimpse of someone who… That’s not him! Was the last thought until now. His eyes went owlishly round as he drew closer. His lips parted with the touch. Though for no other reason than instinct before he got a full look at the sight of..? He was too…wrong to be Barry. His eyes, his touch, that face. Oh God. What happened to his face?

“No?” Blaine’s voice cracked, his dried out mouth and throat burned. Confusion screwed up his face as he stepped backwards trying to figure things out. “How can he–? How can you? What happened? Barry?” No. This wasn’t Barry. Couldn’t be… Couldn’t not be either. Did he finally have the work pressure meltdown he was warned about? “I’ve lost it, haven’t I?”

miss rhodes.

_{She should probably clear out. That was the best thing to do, right? Get out before anyone else spotted her? But at the same time… she was really sore. And pretty cold. And her hangover was pretty bad. And none of that would get any better if she went back out into the cold. Speaking of, she held his coat out to him, shivering a little when she did. “I’m assumin’ you want this back.”}

_{She bit her lip. Some coffee and a donut might warm her up enough to get going out of here before anyone else came in, though that probably didn’t matter since it would get around quick enough that April Rhodes was found sleeping on a piano bench. “Which way’s the cafeteria?”}

“Hang onto it. I’ve got a sweater. That’s way more than enough.” Blaine smiled understandingly after waving off his coat and even helped drape it back over her shoulders. With her shivering like that and the hangover she must have? He figured she needed it much worse than he did. At least until she got some food and coffee in her stomach.

Blaine’s sympathetic smile told her the teenager probably wasn’t able sympathize with her entire situation. Cause he never really was in the position where he was forced to sleep on the piano bench in the choir room. (Not this one and not for her reasons at least??) Still! He knew what feeling like you were hit by a truck thanks to the night before was like. It was flat out terrible. “Right this way.” One arm fit itself around her waist and he made sure he perked up and smiled a bit brighter as he took the lead getting them out of the room and one step closer to food. “So..um.. Can I ask? Why the choir room was where you thought it’d be a good idea to crash?”

rachel.

[ text ;; blaine ] Been there, done that.
[ text ;; blaine ] Ah well, I probably could, but I don´t know if you could handle the cute. 😉
[ text ;; blaine ] Ohh yes! Let´s go see Kinky Boots! I haven´t seen it in a while, but it´s one of those shows that always puts me in a good mood!
[ text ;; blaine ] Though I am very jealous that most of those men look better in dresses and high heels than I do. 😛

( mssg » rachel | sent ) You’re probably going to have to do it again. Consider this my written consent. Rachel Berry has my permission to whoop my butt back into gear before this “funk”, as Tina put it, gets any more gross.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) I can barely handle the level of cute that you are now. Please have mercy on me and the rest of the world. Keep that adorableness in check. You’re already cavity inducing most of the time.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) That’s why I thought that one would be the best choice. I don’t want to sit through anything depressing and I’ve been wanting to go see it again for a while now. Just not by myself.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) It’s all in the legs and attitude, Rach. You could totally pull off some thigh high stilettos if you kept the sass level on high.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) Dinner, too. Don’t forget dinner. And I might even treat you to desert at the bakery across the street after..

( mssg » rachel | sent ) Have I told you how much I love you? I’d be lost without you. But you know that already.

“I hate cocaine.” – sam

meme reply.

What was he supposed to say to that?

Blindsided with the most random statement he’s heard all day (and considering his current company..that says a heck of a lot when the day’s almost over)–Blaine hoped the odds were in his favor and gave his imaginary Rolodex of replies he kept on hand for Sam’s more creative thoughts a spin. Oh! Wait! Right!! What they were talking about earlier finally hit him. That’s what this was about? Hunter and The Warblers and the clip from the news that Blaine instantly wanted to throw up after seeing.

Sam walked in on Blaine giving the punching bag the beating of its life earlier. The chain rattled heavily, Blaine’s grunts gave way to pitched gasps for air and it wasn’t until a hand caught his wrist that he realized the other boy was watching him and whatever he was doing made Sam worry so much that the look on his face hurt more than his throbbing, now wrapped in tattered and peeling tape, knuckles.

Every swing was another punch to the face of the idiot that couldn’t believe in the boys who had more talent in their pinkie fingers than he could ever dream of’s smirking, if you want to come back to the group you left behind’s face. He just forgot when to stop. Sam wasn’t used to seeing him this disheveled and messy. That was his fault. Never should have let himself get that carried away.

Catching Sam’s random thought after minutes of silence and noticing the crease in his forehead that was a sign he was overthinking something made Blaine laugh over top of his bottled water. He looked down into the courtyard they sat above, their legs dangling over the edge of the landing they sat on and sighed deep. “Yeah, me too, Sam. Steroids though, not cocaine. But with how he was acting? I’m not sure anyone could really tell the difference.”