“I like to think that nobody is beyond help.” It was a thought that kept him going after the terrible things that Ben had said to him ; Tate couldn’t be angry though. He ruined that family. You’re a psychopath, Tate! It’s a mental disorder and therapy can’t cure it! The blond suddenly seemed very uncomfortable with the topic. Fidgeting so much that he nudged Blaine from his shoulder and stood up. “Yeah — Yeah, I uh, I like to think that with the right people and stuff … Everyone can get better.” He could get better. Tate paced anxiously, the sleeve of his sweater coming up near his mouth as a nervous tick. “I think the problem is demonization. The media focuses on uh, how and when? And what about their crimes rather than why. When you get told that you’re a monster so many times, you start to believe it, ya know? And why try getting better if people are always going to see you as a monster.” Tate had to take a deep breath. Stop making this so personal, because Blaine was a smart boy. He was going to start wondering and asking questions. His hands raked back and forth a little too roughly in unruly blond hair before he went to settle back down on the sofa’s arm. “Nobody believes in redemption anymore. In forgiveness. And it’s really sad, you know? It’s really sad.”
“I’d like to think so, myself. I mean.. Writing off another human being is cruel. There’s a person with a heart in there. I agree with you but sometimes I wonder..” He watched Tate closely, his gaze momentarily shifting to Tate’s fingers before making eye contact again. “Do you think that some things people do can take that away? Or make people hate them enough for what they’ve done because it’s so beyond our capacity to forgive that that’s why they’re forgotten? There has to be some hope if other places focus on rehabilitating the worst of their offenders? Maybe it’s just an American thing?” Their country seemed far too apt to lock anyone away forever verses trying to help them move past their crimes. But? Which crimes were so unforgivable that there was no coming back? Regardless of mental health or lack of soul or whatever anyone else’s opinion was. What made a person truly irredeemable and who was the one to draw the line? “I think the root problem should be considered for each person. If they’re sick? It’s horrible to turn the other way. Monsters are supposed to be fairy tale villains meant to scare us or teach us a lesson. I don’t think it’s fair to run around saying they don’t exist while turning everyone we don’t understand into one. Sort of hypocritical. Don’t you think?” Or.. Was this conversation getting too upsetting? Maybe they should go back to talking about human belts and lampshades? Blaine bit his lip and pondered his options.
“Oh? Were you?” He teased, pulling his husband closer and ducking his head to press a kiss to his lips, “I couldn’t tell. You hold your alcohol really well.” He added, his face serious but only for a split second before he grinned again and gave Blaine’s hip a squeeze. “And what, pray tell, were you drinking to last night without me?” He pouted, still playful in tone and intent, “I go out of town for one night and party all night without me, huh? Is that how it is, Mr. Anderson-Clarington?”
“I was. Very much.” Blaine hummed as Hunter pulled him close enough that he could wrap his arms around his husband’s shoulders. Hunter ducked his head and in anticipation for the kiss that he saw written all over Hunter’s face coming at him? His heels lifted and he met him halfway. Expression serious or not? They both knew him holding his liquor in any shape well as a lie. The sound of almost laughter quipped into a hard swallow thanks to the squeeze. A deep breath through his nose later, he mused right back. “After performance dinner. I guess we were drinking to a good show? If you weren’t forced to leave because of work,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully, “You would’ve been there.” Squinting, he inched close and pressed a chaste, quick kiss to Hunter’s mouth. A tease and nothing more. “All your fault you missed it.”
Could’ve been the third shoot and beer chaser that was shoved in his hand by Kevin who gave him a wink and a sly I still think you’re that porn guy head tip and grin. He was never going to believe that it WASN’T him, was he? The pornhub addict hummed as Blaine laughed under his breath feeling his face turn warm as Kevin wandered off to go babysit a rowdy table of middle aged men–But! Back to the reason why he just let loose a fifteen minute rambling mess of an explanation about all things Kurt?
Too much liquor and it’d been forever since someone wanted to know about things that far into his past. His usual friends were more interested in the here and now (studies, parties, sex kind of here and now) than in depth, getting to know you talk. Which wasn’t a horrible thing. Not when he made a friend like the one sitting across from him staring into his eyes with a lifted brow. Did he talk way too much? He did, huh?
Blaine ended up dishing a whole lot of honest-to-God’s truth when Lip asked him about this ex of his he’s briefly mentioned before seeming to catch himself and always skipping past getting too far into that conversation. Now, he knew.
I cheated. I ruined things. We got back together. It didn’t work out… A month before classes started in New York, I decided Chicago was a lot less of a conflicting place to be.
‘At some point you have to ask yourself who is really to blame.’
“That’s sweet of you to say. I mean. Really sweet,” he smiled before washing his mouth free from the taste of that recollection with another sip of his beer. “But it’s way in the past and lesson learned, I guess? How about you? What’s your biggest ex story?”
It wasn’t that Michael pretended he was something he wasn’t or had any interest in doing so. He wasn’t bothered by his work so much anymore to begin with. It was what it was, what worked best for him in his situation. He just didn’t want to tell a kind new stranger what he did at night the first time they meet. By the time he has something to say however Blaine was telling him about his friend during Chistmas time.
Michael looks up from the little menu at that, pursing his lips in an obvious attempt not to laugh until he looks back down. “I shouldn’t laugh. If I got the chance to be paid for that I’d absolutely take it.” Closing the menu he leans back in his seat and pats Apple’s head. “As far as stories go though, it’s not exactly glamorous.” He says with a shrug of his shoulder.
“The dream was to get a scholarship and either become an architect or a structural engineer, but I left Chicago when I was sixteen. I’m just trying to pay the bills and shove the rest in a jar for now.” It was probably going best after he started the dog walking out of these past four years. His savings weren’t what he wanted them to be yet but he was getting there. Now if only he knew what exactly he was saving for. “What about you? Where is Blaine the dog lover going?”
“She managed to talk two other people into it at the same time she was doing it, so there’s more than one person and you who would do that if they were paid. I think I could be talked into it,” he grinned sheepishly before he threw caution to the wind and let his grin stretched into a full on cheeky smile followed by a huff of a laugh, “Who am I kidding? I love Christmas so much, I’d probably do it for free. The money would only be an added perk.”
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Their soon-to-be-waitress waved as she took the order from the table next to them, signalling she would be there next. “Stories don’t have to be glamorous. I don’t think we’d be very real if there weren’t any ups and downs or parts where glamorous would be the least likely word to describe what we’re going through. But? I do get it. No pressure.” His gaze darted over Michael’s, head tilted to the side. “I, sometimes, ask more questions than I should when someone makes me curious. Sorry about that. Bad habit. I guess I’ve always enjoyed talking about other people more than I like talking about myself.”
“That’s not a bad dream to have. I hope you get there and that jar keeps filling up. Sooner rather than later. That’s pretty young to be on your own. Did you come to New York City right away, or?” Catching himself slipping right back into the asking too many questions habit he just apologized for, Blaine tucked his chin towards his collar and grimaced his apology this time. “Me? I..uh. I’m in a show a few blocks that way,” he thumbed over his shoulder towards the window indicating the direction of Broadway with a tug of the corner of his lips upwards. “I write music, too. Or. I’m trying to. We all have our dreams, yeah?”
“Eh, you fuckin’ wish, Anderson.” Lip threw back with a grin, just as quickly as Blaine could dish it out. He may have been high, but he wasn’t slow. “That shit-eating grin—
yeah, that’s the one.” The spark in Blaine’s eye was inherently a sign Lip had recognized from a very early age. Mischief. Lip’s cover lasted for now, but he vowed to swear off the fruity drinks for the rest of the night, just in case it was somehow affecting his thought process
— which in itself was a really stupid fucking thought. Blaine’s laughter was the metaphorical finger pointed in a ‘Haha!’, which drove an “Alright, Alright
— enough of these. Let’s get outta here.” No resistance would be accepted when Lip grabbed Blaine’s (empty) glass out of his hand, and took his own to set on the side of someone’s booth, indifferent to the eight people that sat, yelling over the music and enjoying the vibe. Though they looked obviously confused and offended when he offered a wave accompanied by his own South Side Smirk and ducked the fuck out of there, his arm hooking under Blaine’s elbow and dragging him through the crowd to continue their conversation outside as if there had been no interruption, though it didn’t take Lip long to pull out his pack of cigarettes to steal one for the walk.
“Well,” Lip shrugged, throwing back the same looseness and teasing Blaine offered, “I’m still glad I got two then.” Win win, either way. “We magically cut Chad off, so that’s another win for the good guys. Oh no? What are you then?” He chided back, laughter falling from his lips. “We talkin’ like, a solid 7? Or?” Lip hadn’t really thought of the bar, after all risking running into Frank would easily set them up for a third wheel, and instead of having a good birthday, Blaine and Lip would end up spun out on an eight ball on the train yard at Frank’s insistence. But… Blaine had just walked himself into a very big warm welcome from the gang without even realizing. Smirking profusely, Lip tugged out his cellphone and started typing away, listening to Blaine. “Yeah no, smelt like douchebags. Axe and American Eagle, for sure.” A smell he could recognize from being an RA until he too sent that shattering down around him.
“Your, uh, nose hairs good now, bud?” Lip laughed, pocketing his phone and puffing out a huge cloud of smoke in the process, causing him to cough on his laughter a little. “Yeah,” Lip directed, pointing the red embers down the sidewalk, off into the distance, “We’re just gonna take a little break in there, but uh, just know you’re gonna have fun. Let me guide you. Oh
— shit, almost forgot. Debbie made these. Said happy birthday.” Lip reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie full of gummies. “She wants to know what you think ASAP, bein’ laid up has her doin’ all sorts of weird shit, but hey, I thought these were pretty fuckin’ great.”
“Yeah, them. Kev really likes ya, but … might be under the impression you’re, uh, kinda maybe a porn star?”
“It’s a long story.”
Geez, Debbie knew how to make some candy! Blaine scooped a second handful from the bag before tucking it back into his coat pocket and plucking them up two at a time from his palm to pop them in his mouth. Humming appreciatively as he smirked in an afterthought that seemed to come out of nowhere. “You know what gets me about bars like that? Other than the fact that they’re either amazing..cause I’ve been in a couple that were awesome..or they’re so gross that you feel like washing your hands doesn’t even cut the full body scrub down you should get after leaving one? That they call them meat markets. Which one is it? Is it meet as in m-e-e-t or meat as in m-e-a-t?” An arm slung itself around Lip’s shoulders and the hand that hung limply near Lip’s chest smelled suspiciously like sugar and gelatin.
“Cause it really could go either way given the types of meatheads that frequent the ones like that one.” Welp! What a topic to think on. Blaine’s goofy, lopsided grin said he might’ve just left that topic up for Lip to get philosophical about because Blaine might not be all together the best person to finish that trail of thought. Or any. Given the fact that he just pulled a more than half empty bag of gummy bears out of his pocket that were handcrafted so very lovingly by Debbie Gallagher from his pocket with his free hand. It fell open as he held it towards Lip for him to take some. “You’re right. Debbie might’ve just found her calling in life. Want some? They mixed great with your Sex On The Beaches.” A telltale playful side-eye said he still wasn’t over being made to walk up to the bar and order those from Axe-Smelling-Tramp-Stamp Chad. Nor was he going to let Lip off the hook for it any time soon.
He walked like that. Half leaning on Lip for support and trusting him to keep them on the sidewalk as he let his head fall back and looked up at the sky. It was nowhere near as clear as Westerville, Ohio. But at night, when the traffic died out as much as it would ever die out at any time, through the clouds there were stars waiting for him to gaze at. He sighed happily. Even with the lack of stars and fresh air, he couldn’t imagine himself being anywhere else. Especially on his birthday. Especially nowhere else when he was with who he was with heading towards a place where they only wanted him to be himself. “I’m so glad I picked Chicago.. Wasn’t sure I was going to, you know? This almost didn’t happen. Here we are, though. Best birthday ever in a city I love more than I thought I ever would.” He squeezed himself tight to Lip’s side in a hug that had his arm holding Lip’s chest a bit tighter before he loosened it again and glanced back at him. Cheeks pink with their walk, the chilly air, and maybe for another unmentioned reason.
“You’re just..” Dead silence as words sank in followed by being completely dumbfounded. Eeeer?! HUH?! Hello, what did he just say? “….Wait. Did..you just say he thinks I’m a porn star? Okay. The next logical question would be…how?”
[ text ;; blaine ] You´re aware that I´m going to have to screenshot this, right? 😉 [ text ;; blaine ] You know, that´s one of the reasons why I keep you around. You just know how to make me feel special. Which is why I shall obey your request and keep the cuteness in check. But I´m only doing it for you, Mister. [ text ;; blaine ] Alright, I might also keep you around because you buy me dessert! 😉 But seriously, it´s tempting to get some of those heels. I need heels to make me taller anyways. Maybe I should audition for Lauren or Nicola when there´s a cast change? [ text ;; blaine ] Now say that again when we see each other and I might end up being the one to buy you dessert! [ text ;; blaine ] but seriously. You know it´s the same for me! I´m so glad to have you in my life, Blaine!
( mssg » rachel | sent ) Screenshot away, Miss Berry. I promise I wouldn’t deny it anyway.
( mssg » rachel | sent ) How kind of you to repay my never ending love and devotion to making you feel as special as you are to have some pity on me. You are truly a benevolent woman. I’m in awe of your generosity. 😛
( mssg » rachel | sent ) I, almost, feel used. How dare you keep me around solely because I know where to get the best cheesecake in town? Um! It depends on how tall those heels are. For reasons I’d rather not say. Also. You should! I’d even try my hand at a role or two and we could rehearse together. ( mssg » rachel | sent )
Which reminds me. We should venture out and do a karaoke night sometime soon. Don’t think it’s an option. It’s more of a demand I’ll refuse to take no for an answer to. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Oooh! Dessert on you? You can bet this is going to be a thing. ( mssg » rachel | sent ) Thank you, Rachel. That means so much. You’re stuck with me. Always.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know the guy — I think it’s possible. He did have some serious mommy issues.” Tate paused, then laughed at himself. “Not that everyone with mommy issues make human-meat suits, or anything. I’m just saying. With how nuts this guy was, I wouldn’t put anything past him.” When the heart within Tate’s chest still beat, he spent hours and hours within the communal libraries. He didn’t have any friends, but he also didn’t want to sit at home with his drunken mother wandering about ; True crime had fascinated him in a way that much else didn’t. “I mean, he had a lot more than lampshades. He made bowls, and seat coverings. Waste baskets. Masks. A belt made entirely from nipples — This guy could have made some serious money if he found another material to work with.” Maybe the smile that crossed Tate’s lips was a little cruel, a little too dark to be socially acceptable. But he was so desensitized. He’d witnessed murder up close and personal on several occasions. Nothing really squicked him out.
A belt from..??? Oh…wow. That was certainly a way to express parental issues. Chopping up people and turning them into decor and clothing was way beyond coping with feeling ignored by one’s parents (or so he hoped, because eeeesh!). “I wonder if there is a therapy out there that could stop that from happening?” Seeing Tate’s smile was a bit unnerving considering his own eyes were so expressive at the moment. His entire body language complete with scrunched nose and teeth chewing on the inside of his lip as he mulled it over was caught up the moment. Where Tate seemed to be able to talk about it like he was talking about the weather. Blaine didn’t seem to think too hard on how little the other boy was reacting, though. A passing thought and the moment was one. Leave it to Blaine to be too fascinated with the topic to overanalyze what was right in front of him. “Do you think he really could have been something? If the proper ways of circumventing a meltdown of well..making furniture out of dead people proportions? Can you save someone like that..?” He spoke with curiosity the end, not accusation. He truly wanted to know Tate’s thoughts and seemed to be hinging on them.
Finn felt terrible to say the least. He was under the impression that his dancing skills were improving and he hoped that Rachel would be the last person he would ever injury with his not so smooth moves, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Now, he found himself crouched down at Blaine’s side, fumbling on where to put his hands, but he settled on the other male’s shoulder, assuming that he had banged it on his fall.
“I’m so sorry man.” He said, a gentle, apologetic smile on his lips as he looked down into Blaine’s eyes. “We should probably go and get you checked out, right? It was a pretty big fall your back is something you shouldn’t mess with. Uh… Can you walk?” He asked, offering his hand to help Blaine to his feet. “If not, I give a pretty awesome piggyback ride.”
Blaine heard the tales of Finn’s interesting moves from Kurt many times during stories of their past shared over dinner or random late night talks. They always got a laugh out of him because there was no way someone was that dangerous. Even if Finn was the embodiment bull in a china shop’ that was used to detail his more intricately unusual sort of moves. That said? He didn’t expect to experience just how dangerous it could be first hand. Maybe that’s because he always chalked it up to over exaggeration. There was no way someone could be that lethal.
Turns out? He was wrong to be so skeptical. Blaine leaned into the touch against his shoulder, seeking the relief from the ache it provided as he shook his head. “Not your fault. You didn’t do it on purpose. I think I can walk. Thanks.’ Tempting as a piggyback ride due to dizziness was–Blaine decided to keep what was left of his pride after defying gravity in a very not-so-graceful way and slid his hand into Finn’s letting the taller boy pull him up. A small sway later and he gripped Finn’s forearm to get his true footing. “You know? I’ve heard the stories but I never thought they were that bad,” he grinned up at him trying to make Finn feel a little less guilty for what was a total freak accident.
( mssg » blaine | sent) Don’t think I’m getting out of this one alive, killer. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Just do me a favor and don’t believe what they tell you. ( mssg » blaine | sent) We had something real special, B. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Not sure what happens next, but if I can, i’ll find you. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Just remember I did it all for you. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Everyone needed to know your name. ( mssg » blaine | sent) It was worth it and i’d do it all again. Remember that okay? ( mssg » blaine | sent) Don’t let them talk you into blaming yourself. You’re gonna be the last thing on my mind. ( mssg » blaine | sent) Thanks for the wild ride, Blaine.
( mssg » sebastian | sent) Sebastian? ( mssg » sebastian | sent)
What do you mean you’re not getting out of this alive? ( mssg » sebastian | sent) Don’t believe who? What are you saying?
( mssg » sebastian | sent) We did? No. We do. There’s a huge difference. ( mssg » sebastian | sent) The “last thing”? Blaming myself? What is going on?
( mssg » sebastian | sent) Tell me where you are and let me come find you. ( mssg » sebastian | sent) I’m not blaming myself for anything because there’s going to be nothing to blame myself for. Whatever’s happening. Let me help. ( mssg » sebastian | sent) Please?
Lunch time at Dalton was always better when Dave could make his trips to the school and they could spend the hour and the free period Blaine had afterwards together. The days were brighter when Dave was around. How could they not be? When his boyfriend showed up to his office with a bottle of wine Blaine knew he must’ve asked the girl at the store for help figuring out which one would go the food perfectly wrapped in to-go containers with ribbons sporting the name of their favorite Westerville restaurant printed on them.
They were still getting Dave up to speed on which wines tasted the best with what dish. An adventure Blaine decided they should go on when he learned Dave was a beer kinda guy and rarely enjoyed wine until Blaine was having him treat himself on their first few dates. He was almost there! Almost! Blaine had to admit that Dave indulging his silly little notion he was going to make Dave a newly indicted wine connoisseur and trying to learn how was adorable. Not to mention? Just being a they with him, in general–as unexpected as it was—, felt good.
“It’s perfect, you know,” Blaine spoke up while using his fork to toy with his slice of carrot cake. “When you come and check in on me. Having lunch with you is the best part of the day when you do. You’re more than welcome to make it a more than once a week thing.” Setting his fork down, Blaine inched over and gave a glance to the door he was fairly certain he locked?? Then, throwing caution to the wind, he caught the corner of Dave’s mouth in a soft, cream cheese icing sweetened kiss. They had to be a little careful since it was his workplace. But..? Dave deserved a kiss for all the trouble he’d gone to and Blaine couldn’t stop himself from giving him at least one (or maybe two..three?). Here was to hoping the door was, indeed, locked. Traumatizing one of his new team members by having them walk in on their director mid-make out session was not how he wanted to finish the day.
pianokeysandbowties 