egwildcard:

@pianokeysandbowties

Oh sweet, sweet Blaine. On one hand, you’re an innocent. On the other, you decided to shack up with Sebastian Smythe and expected nothing bad to happen? Mr. Goes Into Town And Comes Back With Their Own Compound? Bragging is bound to ruffle a few feathers, especially when surrounded by the less fortunate, and comparatively so, isn’t everyone less fortunate than the reigning gays? The fucking coffee/espresso machine combo you got going that fills your general area with the sweet smells of civilization? The smell others have been largely deprived of because the camp coffee sucks? Well, you drew some attention. And hell, maybe you weren’t even the target but enough feathers were ruffled that someone was. Making sure the coffee machine is ready the night before is a routine, flip it on and you’re ready to go. And, like every other morning, in a haze of sleepiness, you add your fixins. However, today? Of all day? It tastes like fucking dirt. Not even Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans level of dirt but something that … Is actual dirt, which is only confirmed when you whip out the filter, but hey, it’s not just dirt, it’s worms too. Boiled fucking nasty worms. Hey Blainers, how do you take your coffee now? On the bright side, you know Sebastian would never pull a prank like that, especially not on you, especially not to the coffee machine. The not bright side? You’ve made some enemies along the way, or he did.