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[ text to "Kalinda" ;; 7:32 AM ]: Kurt... I miss you. I know that I can't expect you to understand how I feel in regards to the situation with Santana, however, I should have never asked you to pick sides. That wasn't fair and it's been incredibly immature of me to accuse you of being a traitor when you're just trying to preserve your friendship with the both of us. If you would be okay with it... I'd really to come home. I miss it there.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Send me a ✿ and I’ll generate a number: 6 (fingers kiss)
Productivity was overrated sometimes, as far as he knew, because the idea of sitting on the couch of the loft curled up in a blanket waiting for his fiancé to come home was much more appealing than doing his coursework. What he hadn’t really counted on was falling asleep but that was alright and he wasn’t sure when he dropped into unconsciousness or how long he stayed there. A nap never hurt anyone, and he had been busy as of late anyways, and at the rate he was going he wasn’t sure when the last time he got a good night of sleep was. So drifting off was nice…
The next thing that he was aware of was a touch against his forehead and his cheek and he was pulled back into partial consciousness at the touch and leaned his head into it, wanting to seek out more of that warm touch. At some point during his rest the blanket had come undone from his shoulders and he was cold again and his toes curled against the fabric of the couch and he exhaled softly. Words were uttered, soft and amused and loving and even though he already knew that it was Kurt the voice reassured him and he let a small smile spread across his face.
Slowly his hand reached up and he curved the palm of his hand over the other man’s and breathed softly, humming absently under his breath. Words could not describe how unwilling he was to open his eyes in that moment so he didn’t, and instead he turned his head and pressed his lips against the brunet’s thumb, and paused for a moment. After a beat he continued, kissing the pad of the man’s forefinger, and then his middle finger, ring finger, pinky… the touches of his mouth were light and fleeting but he tried to transmit as much love as he could into the movements. Finally he let his mouth rest for a few seconds against the palm of Kurt’s hand, and let his smile grow just slightly, before letting go of the hand and turning his head away.
For a moment his fiancé’s hand hovered before touching his face again and fingers carded through his loose hair that wasn’t gelled down—it was too late and he had already taken a shower anyways. And Kurt’s touch against his scalp was pleasant and he sighed softly out of pure contentment, finally bringing himself to open his eyes just slightly, peering up at the man before him who was looking at him with such adoration that it made something inside of him tremble. Sometimes it was crazy, utterly insane, just how much he felt he loved the man who would one day be his husband.
”Welcome home.”
A soft, amused laugh, and then a chaste kiss was being pressed against his lips.
”I’m home.”
kurtandthecity replied to your post:hello give me all the Battlefield and On My Way...
[ i don’t know what that means but i volunteer ]
lea michele songs! i want all the plots based on her album, because there's so many good song AUs. kurt and rachel dancing to cannonball skdfjvg
kurtandthecity:
[text]: It’s only kind of sort of illegal if we get caught. What happened to your sense of adventure?
[SMS—Best Gay]: Kurt! My sense of adventure is still as intact as it was weeks ago. [SMS—Best Gay]: But now more than ever I need to be careful of doing things that could in turn get me in trouble with the law. [SMS—Best Gay]: I am sure I don't need to inform you of how awful an arrest would look to my director. And the last thing I wish to do is put my future with Funny Girl at risk.
"There's nothing to talk about, Kurt."
There's a lump in her throat that she can't seem to force away, nails digging into the palms of her hands as she struggles to keep her gaze steady. It isn't an issue of having nothing to talk about, but rather an issue of not wanting to talk about the rainbow elephant standing in the corner of the room trying to steal a piece of her coveted star sandwich. She's said her piece on the issue already and her concerns seemed to go ignored. If that was how it had to be, she would find her own place to live and maybe she'd find a new crop of friends that actually cared about her feelings and bothered to take her side on occasion. Bitter? Not at all.
"I have said all that I needed to say yesterday afternoon, and while I appreciate the gesture of forcing me to talk about something I clearly no longer wish to discuss, I would like to be alone so that I may enjoy my downtime before rehearsals this evening."
She just wants to be left alone before she starts crying again. Last night, she made a promise to herself. Rachel Berry was no longer going to cry in front of people that didn't deserve her tears. She was not going to break that promise now.
"Are you still playing Flappy Bird?"
"I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now." [xoxoxo]
Put a sentence in my inbox.
College classes were as much as a drag as high school classes, which figured. Blaine was a good enough student and he listened attentively and took his notes and studied when he knew he had to and worked hard to get good grades, but there was only so much that he could listen to in his NYADA class about the wonders of the history of theater. It didn’t really help that he already knew a lot of theater history, nor did the fact that his professor was a sixty year old man who tended to drone aid in his attempt to stay alert and attentive.
Frankly put, he was b o r e d.
So when his phone buzzed in his pocket he welcomed the distraction, pulling his phone out of his pocket and unlocking the screen, keeping it under the desk. A smile lit up his face reflexively when he noticed that Kurt was the one who had texted him and he tapped on the app, pulling up the message eagerly—before promptly fumbling with his phone.
I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now.
Swallowing thickly he glanced at either sides of him, relieved when he noted that his peers were as zoned out as he had previously been and had not noticed him nearly drop his phone in shock.
This wasn’t the first time Kurt had sent him a message like this by a long shot, sometimes they certainly played out intimate things over text message (he hated the term sexting, honestly), but this was the first time it had caught him so off guard. He was in the middle of class, even—!
Though he couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through him, nor the fact that he was already beginning to imagine going back to the loft, running over to his and Kurt’s bed, falling into it and…
Definitely not thoughts to have in History of Theater.
Biting his lip he glanced at the clock on the wall, willing class to be over sooner—for once, he wished that he hadn’t sat so close to the front of the room. If he had sat closer to the back, then he could have slipped out generally unnoticed… though it was taboo to skip class in order to catch his fiancé and, for lack of better wording at the moment, have sex with him. That wasn’t the way that his priorities usually worked, but admittedly he and Kurt hadn’t gotten the chance to get some time alone lately…
Running his tongue over his bottom lip he glanced at his phone again and tapped the screen to start typing out a reply, still unable to suppress a smile. Kurt always had a way of making him smile, even if it was through a text message. That was love, though… and honestly, it was only for Kurt that he would text something like this in class, even if he generally did not have qualms against texting in class so long as it wasn’t a disruption of any sort.
I’m in class, Kurt! Though… keep talking to me like that, and I’ll be naked in our bed within thirty minutes.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Sentence Meme sentences
❝Oh, hi Kurt. I didn't see you there.❞
{ he can probably take that as a no. }
