I'm Brazilian. Christian.
I love X-Files and both Mulder and Scully. I think they have the most beautiful love on tv and Chris Carter is a genius!
I love House and I don't care for ships on this show, except for Hilson in a friendship level.
I ship Kurt and Blaine HARD! And I'm also completely in love for Blaine Anderson.
I'm now a little obsessed for Darren Criss... he's kind of amazing and lighten up my days like a motherfucker lamp.
Shows I'm watching now: X-Files, House, Once Upon a Time, Chuck, Glee (next season maybe I'll be moving to klaine-edits... This show... I s2g), Supernatural, White Collar, Bones, The Office...
I blog about all this and anything that catches my attention.
My english sucks and you can correct me anytime if you want to... I'll love you forever.
For more go to my "about me".
Mornings like these are easily Kurt’s favourite; he wakes to finding Blaine, deep asleep, practically on top of his chest, his mouth a little open and arms wrapped around Kurt’s waist.
As much as they like to fall asleep in a tangled mess, holding each other, usually it doesn’t last long since Blaine has a habit of flopping around like a seal in his sleep, legs kicking and body tossing and turning, and most of the time he ends up on the other side of the bed – if not on the floor.
Blaine stands on his tiptoes, reaching in to hide the small box right behind Kurt’s perfume bottle ornament when he hears the soft shuffle of feet behind him.
“You coming to bed?” Kurt asks, and Blaine spins around.
“Yeah, of course, I’m just— I was just looking at the tree,” he finishes awkwardly, but Kurt doesn’t seem to notice. He looks like he was falling asleep in the bedroom, actually, because his eyes are heavy and his hair is sticking out on one side. Blaine feels his chest swell and Kurt starts walking toward him, his smile glowing warmly in the soft light of the tree.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Blaine says, not looking away from Kurt. “It is.”
Kurt flushes and laughs, ducking his head. “Come on to bed, sweetie. I feel like if I leave you here you’re going to shake presents until you figure out what I’ve gotten you.”
BLAINE’S SMILE IS SO CUTE LIKE THE ENORMOUS ONE WHERE ALL OF HIS TEETH SHOW AND HIS EYES DISAPPEAR IMAGINE KURT PINNING HIM TO THE COUCH AND JUST TICKLING HIM LIKE CRAZY AND MAKING BLAINE SHRIEK WITH LAUGHTER AND KICK HIS FEET BEGGING KURT TO STOP BUT KURT JUST TICKLES HIM HARDER AND KISSES HIS CHEEK OVER AND OVER AND GOES “YOU’RE SO CUTE YOU’RE SO CUTE YOU’RE SO CUTE” AND BLAINE’S LIKE “KURTTTT PLEEEEEHEHEASE I’M DYHAHAHAHAHIIING”
Kurt tied the laces of his ice skates tightly around his ankles before hobbling to his feet awkwardly.
The Westerville skating rink was the nearest one that he could go to without running into any neanderthals from school and so he traversed an hour away too get the little bit of Christmas time that he was anticipating.
After a wobbly circuit around the ring with his hand on the edge, he started jerkily skating as Michael Buble and Shania Twain started singing White Christmas over the speakers.
Kurt kept his torso bent, plodding through the ice, ignoring the rush of blood to his cheeks as he saw couples skating around each other with ease and grace.
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the treetops glisten and children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow…
Kurt started skating towards the middle as he hummed along to the song, singing Shania’s part under his breath as he attempted to straighten up. “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas with every Christmas card I write.” He lifted his leg up at an attempt at his own sort of move. “May your days be merry and—”
He gasped as he wobbled dangerously, losing his footing.
“Gotcha!” a voice breathed heavily in his ear as warm hands steadied his waist. “I’ve got you. Are you okay?”
Kurt firmly planted his blades in the ice before looking up, gulping at the flashing white teeth and the blinking gold eyes and the immaculately gelled hair. “I…I’m fine. just haven’t skated in a while…”
“Just try to be more careful next time,” the boy laughed before holding out a hand. “My name’s Blaine.”
“Kurt,” Blaine said with a smile. Suddenly he was leaning in and Kurt’s eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat. But Blaine just squeezed Kurt’s hand tighter and pulled him along the ice. “Come on. We’ll practice.”
omg but can you imagine Kurt and Blaine walking through the streets of Manhattan during Christmas time and the city’s all lit up with Christmas lights and there are fat snowflakes floating down everywhere and they’re all bundled up in their pea coats and thick wooly scarves and they got steamy eggnog lattes and are sipping them and Blaine keeps looking down at Kurt’s empty hand and Kurt really wants Blaine to hold it but they’re just friends now and Blaine asks Kurt if he’s blushing and Kurt says no it’s just the cold (but it’s really Blaine) and then their fingers somehow end up lacing together and they just keep walking, secretly hiding smiles from each other but then they crowd close together because it’s chilly out and fjkdsl;afjkdl;safjkdl;safjkdl;saj
I literally just flailed
Kurt felt silly the second he unbuckled his belt and Blaine looked down as though wondering what he was doing. “I’m sorry, I just — I wanted to follow you to the door, it’s silly—” Kurt stammered out and blushed.
A grin spread on Blaine’s face and he leaned over to kiss Kurt on the mouth, a gentle brush of their lips before he pulled back to open the car door and said, “I’d like that.”