[ + killer ] … i’d say it’s more than a little, killer. [ + killer ] if this is a booty call via text i’m framing it for future reference. [ + killer ] though for your future reference, i prefer to hear your sexy voice. [ + killer ] where are you? [ + killer ] if you’re hitting on me via text i pale to think who else you’re chatting up. [ + killer ] let me take you home.
“No, I don’t think you realize how not okay I am. I haven’t heard from you in five days. No one could tell me where you were. Or if you were okay. Or coming back. Your phone went right to voicemail. After three? I couldn’t stop thinking the worst happened. Don’t ever do that again. Please?” Blaine held Barry so tight that he could barely breathe but he’d felt like that for practically a week already. At least having him here. Home and safely in his arms? Not being able to get any air because he was holding Barry so tight was better than feeling like his chest was caving in because he’d never see him again.
( mssg » rachelbarry | sent ) So what am I supposed to say to him? Hello! I know you’re probably not into guys. Or maybe you are. Or maybe you’re trying to figure out if its your thing or not and that’s great because I get it.. ( mssg » rachelbarry | sent ) But I really liked kissing you. Next time when we’re alone? I really want do it again.
Only this time? I don’t want to stop? ( mssg » rachelbarry | sent ) Because a dream I had that you and I were having sex against my kitchen counter still feels so real I’m having aftershocks and I didn’t even have real sex? ( mssg » rachelbarry | sent ) Yeah! Right! I’m not a predator! Or a pervert weirdo! That is for you to know and him to never find out!
( mssg » kurt | sent ) I know you’re probably sleeping but I’m doing this on the off chance that you might be awake. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) If you are up? Mind if I bother you? ( mssg » kurt | sent )
If you aren’t? I hope you’re sleeping well and we can chat soon. 🙂
( mssg » kurt | sent ) You’re just..on my mind tonight. A lot.
SEND A 🍷 FOR MY MUSE TO SHOW UP DRUNK AT YOUR MUSE’S DOOR. @independentlyfinnhudson White knuckle grip on the doorframe? Check. Gushing apology prepared for Finn considering the time? Double–triple check. All he had to do was knock on the door but going through with it required a courage that the liquid form of it was seriously starting to run out. The longer he debated if he should have told the guy to drop him off down the block–apparently a ride home from the bar equalled getting a number shoved into his lap and more awkwardness than he could cope with for another fifteen minutes to his aunt’s house? Blaine was beginning to realize that this was more than a bad idea. It was a horrible one.
There wasn’t any promise that Finn would appreciate him being here. He wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. One huge relief was Burt and Carol were gone. He knew by Rachel telling them to have a safe trip on Facebook and–like always–Burt’s message was half typed before he sent it on accident and forgot that editing was a thing. Kurt and he both tried to teach the man how to work social media before he left for D.C. the first time but it was sort of like–how did Kurt say it? ‘Teaching a caveman how to work fire in the pouring rain.’ The memory hitched his shoulders and caused his head to bow so far forward that his forehead plastered itself against the door.
Blaine swayed once, twice, clutched the doorframe harder to keep from falling completely over. and wouldn’t you know it? Laughed sadly in spite of the tears in his eyes. A lightly curled fist swung blindly to knock on the door and gravity won when one rap had him off balance and his butt bounced on the cement. To hell with it. He’d just stay there and Finn wasn’t home? Or told him to leave and shut the door? Maybe a nap in the cold would sober him up some. Plus? It’d serve him right. Yet one more night added to the string of poor life choices under his belt. Wonderful. Perfect.Utterly freaking abysmal.
Send ❤ for a non-specific kiss… (rolled dice to get result via list) 6. ☆ – for a kiss on the neck @ofscarllet
The day used to be his favorite holiday. One he looked forward to and planned every detail out down to a T. Valentine’s Day was an excuse to get as cheesy as he wanted. Down to shiny paper string hearts and sappy cards worded just right to make someone cry that wound up making you cry too. That’s what felt so good about it. Sure, sure. He had his new life. He’d moved on after building up the walls of his heart and patching over the worst of the cracks. There were still a few that weren’t filled up right. Occasionally, they’d crumble and his thoughts would travel across the city. Through miles of concrete and heartache he swore was down to a ghost arm version of itself. Then they’d land on the person who he used to spend so much of this day doing those things for. He wondered how Kurt was doing. A seed of thought that dug deep, grew roots and spurned others. Like who he might be spending it with now and–suddenly the idea of a rum and coke (or three and half) sounded a hell of a lot better than stuffed animals and chocolates in heart shaped boxes. Right as he was about to get another, a familiar face but a vaguely unfamiliar tone drew him out of the place where his thoughts wandered off to. Barry.
An hour later? A helpful arm kept him steady. He wasn’t too drunk to walk–barely drunk at all– but distractions came easy with liquor in his system and he’d already veered off twice forcing Barry to run and catch up. The third sway to the side, his finger –POINTED– insistently at a nearby park bench. Barry was stuck following him off one of Central Park’s paths they’d been walking down. Once they were seated, Blaine’s head rested against Barry’s shoulder and he sighed towards the water not too far away. “Thanks. You could have stuffed me in a cab and sent me home. I wouldn’t have blamed you. I sort of talked your ear off. You didn’t need to listen,” he gave Barry’s wrist a rattle and peeked up at his jaw. He wasn’t sure when the light laugh of him to save some face died off but it did. The scent of cologne and skin suffocated the noise as it drew him in. The tip of his nose brushed against the spot first and he’d muttered something about Barry smelling good but that meant his lips moved dangerously close. Lingering there longer than he should have, Blaine coughed lightly to clear his throat–he tried to get air that wasn’t that scent and it didn’t work–and licked his lips before he caved. One part loneliness, one part he wanted to. They grazed across Barry’s throat above the collar of his shirt and stayed there, sighing out a warm breath over the damp spot they left behind. An apology rushed out of him once the gravity of what he did caught up. “Oh–God. Sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
SEND ME A ♬ AND A NUMBER BETWEEN 1-10 AND I’LL PUT MY ITUNES ON SHUFFLE AND SKIP TO THAT NUMBER AND WRITE A STARTER WITH MY FAVORITE LYRIC FROM THAT SONG. song:all alright by f.u.n. @dontcallmekenzie
What started out as a dinner and movie night wound up being dinner and ‘just one more film because–hey why not–’ until Carson and Blaine both passed out on the couch. Falling asleep sitting up wasn’t in the plan either but that’s how he wound up. Carson was the first one. His head was in Blaine’s lap and he was breathing steadily by the time Luke Skywalker’s twist of fate was revealed. Not everyone had the stamina to make it through a back to back Star Wars marathon.
Turns out, neither did Blaine. He missed the ‘Big Reveal’ too. Long gone before the shout of ‘Noooooo!’ ever touched his ears. Blaine stirred awake with a crook in his neck and a popping noise crackling up his entire spine. Untangling his fingers from Carson’s hair to cup his face, Blaine took in a deep breath through his nose and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Easing himself out from underneath Carson was easier thought than done. Blaine moved as slow as possible and held the back of his head as he scooted free. Seeing him nuzzle down into the cushion once he swiveled up, Blaine felt something hit his chest hard. A panic that shouldn’t be there. A doubt that–whatever this was that he promised himself he wouldn’t be doing again–was about to happen regardless of his effort to not let himself feel what he was starting to feel.
Blaine tried to tell himself it was only because he knew how Carson felt. He’d be blind not to see the softness in Carson’s eyes that bordered on hope for something more. Carson was too asleep to see that Blaine had that same look as he thought about it and let his fingers stretch towards a lock of hair he bent to sweep off Carson’s forehead. That was when he said it. Blaine wasn’t a praying man. Not often but he whispered something that could be taken as one. Or as a wish put out into the universe with the chance that it’d listen and do him a favor. “But maybe just this once. Let me keep this one?” Wouldn’t that be a nice change? If he’d just let it happen.
“✆” for a MORNING text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) Breakfast at Cafe Reggio? I know you love food and they have the best coffee and bagels in town. I think I’m taking a personal responsibility on making sure you try every fantastic restaurant I’ve discovered since I’ve been here.
Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) 11am class. Late. Need a miracle to make it on time. Going to get chewed out for this. Wish me luck that I leave this class with my head still attached.
Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) BArry? Youre’ really beautiful. Your face frreakes em out but i really liek you. Want rto come for a drink or five? Meet my frieedns. You’ll ,liek them and they’ll have no idea what to do wabout you and it’ll be funf!
Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) Are you awake? I know this might sound weird but I sort of need someone to talk to. I know I have closer friends I can reach out to but not about this. I don’t know why I’m picking you to bother. I’m sorry. It could be because you feel so familiar but you don’t know me enough to judge what I’m about to say. I need some advice. If you don’t mind?
Send “#” for a RANDOM text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) Plaid, paisley or sailboats? I can’t pick. Forcing you to help me. You’re the tie breaker. Or should I say bowtie breaker? I’m thinking all of thee above.
Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) I can’t stop wondering something. You said I’m the first guy you’ve kissed. Why? I’d imagine guys would be throwing themselves at you. It’s hard to believe I was the first one to kiss you. As accidental as it was.
Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. ( mssg » not sebastian | sent ) If you come home in twenty minutes I’m going to be in the shower. Yes that was a hint. Follow the trail of clothes and I’ll be waiting.
( mssg » kurt | deleted ) Hey, Kurt. I need to say this. I keep trying. I’ve written and rewritten this message half a dozen times in different ways. I never send it. I doubt I will this time. Who knows? My nerve might last long enough. I tell myself that every time I do this. I’m going to hit send. I’m going to tell you everything I need to say and hope you tell me I’m being ridiculous. That you laugh at me and stop this spiral we’re on because I’m making it up in my head. I probably won’t give you the chance to read this and it’ll end up deleted like the others. I’m too scared you won’t take it. I miss you. You promised me that you wouldn’t say goodbye but goodbye is more than a word. Goodbye comes in silence. In phone calls that go instantly to voicemail. Or worse? After a couple rings. Goodbye is unanswered and forgotten Skype meets every Friday night like we promised. It’s me talking to you but you not hearing me anymore. I’m trying so hard to be patient for you. Meet me halfway? The distance between us is getting too far. It’s starting to feel like I can never hope to catch up to you before you forget about me forever. I love you. I’m here waiting for you. Please come back. Not to Lima, not that. Come back to us. ( mssg » kurt | sent ) Hey, gorgeous! How’s the hottest vogue intern in New York City? See you on Skype Friday? Time to pick a new binge watch show. Your turn. I’ll bring the ice cream. You bring the Clear Eyes and caffeine. I love you. -Blaine
( mssg » puck | sent ) i bnet i can have myseldf out of my pants faster than your drunke fingers can’ get me Otu of themm ( mssg » puck | sent ) wanr to race me? loser ends up t he winner anway cause they’ll be the first one nakedd. this msight be one contest i’ll throw willinglly. yuo can’t joirn the team to avoid defeat this time. hahaha! why are you straing at me like that? y oure not drunk are you? ( mssg » puck | sent ) oh no ignore these texts please i thoughjt ( mssg » puck | sent ) hi puck how ar eyou?
pianokeysandbowties 