“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?”
“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?”
pianokeysandbowties 