#daffydancer

[starslung]

”I don’t mind sharing, as long as I’m with you.”

the bed's still warm from johnny, an afterimage of heat that manifests flashes of the night before -- limbs and kisses and teeth scraping necks and salt and relief. if finn didn't have to get up in a few minutes to start getting ready to TA, he'd think about requesting an encore. sure, it'd just be the two of them, but britt's more than capable of putting on a good show...

it's only after she speaks, her voice partially muffled by the blanket finn has draped over his head to block out the rising sun, that it occurs to finn he's not jealous. maybe it should have been evident earlier -- why set out to date two people if you weren't confident you could handle the split attention? but that worry had never even been there, an anxiety he never felt and therefore never had to name.

he shuffles closer on the bed toward her, nothing about it graceful as his feet get tangled in the sheets, the blanket over his head blocking out his eyes so britt can't get the full effect of his achingly open expression. perhaps it's for the better. finn isn't used to being so wholly cherished. he's not sure what to do with himself except to blindly find britt's lips, kiss her long and slow. "you mean it?" he knows she does, but finn is greedy for the affirmation, for the words, for her.

[wrblr]

        ❛  brittany  ---  this  has  to  stop.   i’m  not  gonna  let  you  come  to  my  island  anymore  if  you  keep  stealing  all  of  my  peaches.  ❜

@daffydancer​  //  bc u asked for it

[awesomegaydar-a]

consider  my  offer .

ft. @animalsweaters / @highponyed / @daffydancer / @awesomegaydar

[wrblr]

ur also doin good

this is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me i’m going to cry

[awesomegaydar-a]

                               your job’s a joke you’re broke,                                           your love life’s d.o.a

living  in  new  york  was  the  dream ,  but  no  one  tells  you  it  comes  with  strings  attached .  debts ,  failed  jobs ,  getting  behind  on  rent ,  staring  at  your  college  title  that  seems  like  nothing  but  a  piece  of  paper   nowadays ,  collecting  dust  in  your  study  desk ,  &  the  fatality  of  dating  weird  strangers  in  a  city  that  never  sleeps .  thankfully ,  you  have  friends  who  keep  you  warm  at  night .

tag: #ibtfygv

a private group verse loosely based on the tv show f.r.i.e.n.d.s, featuring:

@animalsweaters - rachel  berry

@awesomegaydar - santana  lopez

@daffydancer - brittany  pierce

@grandstanderson - blaine anderson

@highponyed - quinn fabray

@oflettermanjackets - noah puckerman

@sebaiser - sebastian smythe

[starslung]

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

"schrodinger's cat," finn mutters, eyes on britt's hand as the toys with it, his thumb and forefinger examining her joints as if she were a kind of new species he needed to inspect, memorizing each dip and curve and whorl. there is a reason people say memorize this by heart -- things mean something when you place them there. they transform, become something bigger, the second they're writ on your heart.

branded there like older brothers and the smell of whiskey and chlorine rushing up your nose and bruises purple and green along your arms and hiding under the bed and cradling someone else and flinching when someone shouts and... and... and... --

maybe he wants to be kept. maybe he wants to be let go. even finn isn't sure.

he presses britt's fingers to his mouth -- kissing them? making himself shush? he doesn't want to say the next part out loud, doesn't want to fracture the tenuous peace he allows himself to have while she's here. not quite dead -- not quite alive.

[starslung]

come collect ur birthday kiss finn !

collect? as if he wasn't think about it all damn day. the way he scoops britt up is borderline cinematic, holding hands to cradling around her midsection to dipping her into a kiss, as if it's her birthday and she's the one he's celebrating here. the kiss itself is as dramatic as the rest of the display, deep and long and ending with a satisfying smack. " y'know," he says, still holding her through the dip, arms only slightly beginning to tremble. "i'm twenty-eight now. so does that mean i get twenty-seven more kisses?"

[starslung]

“ When you sleep by my side I feel safe and I know I belong. ” xoxo britt

ABBA LYRIC STARTERS ! 

    “awh, man, be glad it’s dark. you’re gonna have me blushing eight different kinds of red with that sappy talk.” every psychiatrist under the sun can talk about deflection of sincere feelings with humor or blah blah blah, but right now finn doesn’t want to think about that. hell, he doesn’t even want to think about the word sincere, about how much he feels it, too, the sense of only needing to be right here, next to britt, and nowhere else.

    he nuzzles closer to her, face pressed into the dip of her neck, nose smushed close under her ear. finn wants her to feel him speaking as much as she hears it, though he doesn’t quite know why, or what it really means. “keep that shit up and i’m calling the hallmark emergency hotline. i know how much they hate it when their greeting card writers escape the factory --”