give me a first date. give me going to a small town carnival and my muse winning your muse a giant stuffed bear (or your muse showing up my muse and winning them a giant bear). give me going on the ferris wheel and my muse rocking the chair while yours begs them to stop. givE ME WALKING THROUGH A CORNY HAUNTED HOUSE HOLDING HANDS AND EVEN THOUGH The scares are predictable and noT scaRY YOUR MUSE STILL SQUEEZES MY MUSES HAND AND SUBCONSCIOUSLY MOVES CLOSER PLEASE.
@pianokeysandbowties: speaks to anyone ever santana & hunter: what the fuck about me
me: -gets called out, replies twice in the reply bubble..does it here again anyway- me: you know i miss them too. especially your lil psycho bean. pls bring him to me soon. blainers needs the crazy back. also, pls let me unleash him onto r for shiz and grinz.
text — blaine ; How much would it kill you if I requested to reschedule today’s vigorous make out session? text — blaine ; You looked so… cute singing that song back in the choir room it kind of makes me want to get all kinds of frisky in the auditorium.
( mssg » kurt | sent ) It depends on what kind of reschedule we’re talking about.. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Oh?? Oh!! Okay! All kinds of frisky in the auditorium, huh? I happen to love Frisky Kurt. That sort of time bump is definitely not remotely in the ‘kill me’ category. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Consider that a million times yes, Mister Hummel. Shall we?
Blaine bought a couch off the back of a truck because apparently the furniture I carefully chose from Chelsea’s finest flee markets isn’t that comfortable. It was a mid-century knock-off so I gave him an A for effort. But as soon as I lifted up one of the cushions I saw that the entire couch was riddled with…BED BUGS! BED BUGS! So we spent the entire night disinfecting everything, taking Silkwood showers then disinfecting everything again.
Santana enjoyed teasing Blaine probably more than anyone else. His rebuttals && offended expressions were pure gold. If reactions were currency, Blaine would be a millionaire. The small jabs at his fashion or perky personality never seemed to bring him down. That was something Santana valued in a person. Thick skin. If you can stand up && take the blows, while still understanding that they mean no harm — you’re officially worthy of the Lopez’s presence. Blaine was one of the few who could prove time && time again, that he was beyond worthy. It wasn’t just the same old game with him. It was pure, almost ecstatic, FUN. “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable? Are you really that unacquainted with your disco stick?” Her lips pulled into a confident grin as she threw the joke in his face. She really was having a good time. A nice comparison to some of the harder days she’d experienced these past few weeks. Santana’s cheerful laugh followed his expression when drinking the straight alcohol. Maybe she was a little tipsy already, but that was just making tonight all the more fun. “Knew you always had the hots for me, Anderson.” she teased with a smirk, slender fingers gripping the bottle to snatch it back. She did always had to have the last word after all.
Laughter, beyond buzzed and maybeDEFINITELY heading towards a little bit drunk, bubbled out of him and blended with Santana’s a heck of a lot better than the taste of liquor from the bottle was blending with his now non-existent tastebuds. Only the weak ones die, right? Hopefully. Of course the chuckles happened after dropping his jaw and steepling his fingers against his chest in a mock expression of utter offense and hurt.
“What if it did? Would you take it back? Probably not. For the record? NO. I’m not offended by it. I’m just more dignified than a man who would use such a term. A gentleman would do no such thing,” he even tried to prove it by huffing indignantly with an upwards lift of his nose. “Or at least we have better phrases for it when we do.” His hand chased after the bottle when she pulled it away. So much for gentlemanly composure when you’re grabby handing at a bottle of vodka. Or was that rum? He forgot. Gasping, Blaine gave her an owlish blink and then bent forward with a shove of his elbow against the back of the couch. “How’d you figure it out? And, let’s be honest and blame it on the alcohol. You’ve always had the hots for me too, Lopez.” A scoff twitched his shoulders up as he waited for the bottle to come his way again and stole the time without it to taunt her just as hard back. “Alas! If my memory serves me right? It can never be. What a cruel life we live..,” his shoulders sagged and he feigned a pout of utter disappointment as he sank back still vodka-less. Double bummer.
Lips permanently curved and a severe sense of pride rapidly welling up inside of him, a small chuckle escaped the older male’s lips as he finally made himself comfortable; occasionally casting a glance toward his adoring husband before blue green eyes once again settled on their small bundle of joy now lying sound asleep on the bed next to them. She was perfect. The name Hepburn often discussed during their late night post-Broadway stage babyname debates yet somehow even more perfect now that she was officially the one to answer to it. A sight of which Kurt was positive he’d never find himself grow tired of; any earlier marital squabbles beyond forgotten and inching significantly closer to Blaine as he finally nuzzled their noses together.
“Happy anniversary, daddy,” lips teased, going in for a haste, gentle kiss and features positively radiant after shooting a brief and subtle glance towards the alarm clock sitting on their nightstand as it indicated having just turned midnight. No matter how many anniversaries they had shared together in the past, their first with less-than-a-day-old little Hepburn was no doubt bound to be one even more special.
Blaine couldn’t take his eyes off the top of a tiny head covered in so many dark, spiky will-someday-be-crazy-out-of-control little curls. His thumb traced back and forth across velvet skin and he had no shame in the tears in his eyes as he tucked his head down to smell his new favorite scent. The ghost of Kurt’s cologne lingering on his skin, meticulously picked baby detergent, powder and someone brand new laying between him and his husband. THEIR someone brand new. If there was ever a moment where he’d looked at Kurt throughout their years together and thought ‘I couldn’t ever possibly love someone more’, he meant it every time but had no idea how wrong he was. Because right here? Right now? Between the two of them? Blaine’s heart was filled to the brim and bursting with absolutely the most love he’s ever known and will ever discover. How did something like this feel? Wonderful? Overwhelming? No, not any of those. There were no words. Not really. Whole. Whole was as close as he got.
His family. His future. His life and soul. All here within arm’s reach and they were fathers together. “Happy Anniversary, daddy,” he repeated back with just a little taunt in return. Kurt’s quick and gentle kiss was returned with one that lingered and curved into a bright smile against his mouth. Blaine couldn’t seem to lose the way it stretched from ear to ear. “I love you so much, Kurt. Look at her. She’s ours. She’s perfect. Our daughter. Can you believe it?”
“ of course you’re not! i’m all by myself out here, i have plenty of room for a guest! don’t you dare! i am happy to have you. you can meet some of my new friends, we can catch up, it can be just like old times! ”
maybe she was lonely, but she’d never admit it.
“Honestly, I was hoping you’d say that. Getting a room would be fine but I’d rather spend my time here with someone. That someone being you. I can’t wait to meet them and you’ve got to show me all your favorite spots. Have you taken this place by storm? Are we going to have to dodge paparazzi and wear sunglasses just to get to the bathroom in restaurants?”
“I missed you, Rachel.. Way too much.” And maybe she wasn’t the only one who was lonely but didn’t want to admit it as of late. Two officially makes company. Things just might be on the up and up for both of them.
text — b. anderson ; I assume you New Directioners know the way to Carmel High’s auditorium.
( mssg » jesse | sent ) For once, you are assuming correctly, Mister Saint James.
( mssg » jesse | sent ) Before your ego inflates too far? I knew my way there long before you were in charge. 🙂 ( mssg » jesse | sent ) Should I bring the whole gang? Or is this a private invitation to scope out the competition? Inquiring minds want to know.
pianokeysandbowties 