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Post by annieshackleford on Sept 13, 2011 0:46:32 GMT -6
caught in the in-between of beautiful disaster [/center][/size][/font] [/i], she thought as she watched the girl begin to move her hips. Annies jaw dropped. Having taken ballet her whole life she had no idea how to move like that and found herself starting to feel extremely jealous. As soon as she got the courage Annie was going to walk out there and ask the blonde to teach her how to move like that. Annie took a glance at the cups on the bar and debated whether having a drink would be the best way to begin her dancing session. She found her feet slightly tapping to the music and she nearly stepped onto the floor right then with sauté’s, pas de chat’s, and Jeté ‘s. Suddenly Annies thought process was interrupted when Rachel acknowledged her and pulled her into a hug. But she pulled away so quickly that Annie didn’t have time to return the embrace. Instead she gave Rachel her bravest smile, which probably didn’t look to brave at the moment. She shrugged as she followed Rachels gaze onto a boy then turned back to Rachel. “I’m glad to be here! I haven’t met anyone else yet though…” The girl looked obviously distracted, but Annie decided she’d speak up anyway, “You know Rache, I’ve never had a drink in my life. You mind showing me what is good over here?” Annie couldn’t believe she was actually going to go through with this, but if she was going to experience any rebellious stage in her life it should be now. Annie thought it’d be best to introduce herself to some other people, she just couldn’t decide whether she’d rather do it after her first drink or before while she was still coherent. [/ul][/size] she just needs someone to take her home. [/center][/size][/font]
Words: 415
TAGS: everyone
Credits: Lyrics: Beautiful Disaster- John Mclaughlin
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Post by BLAINE ANDERSON on Sept 20, 2011 2:53:15 GMT -6
 I'M THE NEW CANCER[/B][/size][/font][/size] •• N E V E R • L O O K E D • B E T T E R ••[/i] A N D Y O U C A N ' T S T A N D I T- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/center] Blaine glanced critically at the reflection in his bathroom mirror. It was a little paler than usual, and had the unmistakable air of someone who’d spent a week sulking over someone he had no right to sulk over. He hadn’t exactly spent the week sulking. He’d forced himself to do his stack of Calculus and Physics assignments and make a start on The Great Gatsby (which he’d read, but hadn’t bothered to annotate). He’d spent the rest of his time curled up on his bed ignoring the TV and had chosen the infrequent visits of his parents as occasions for long walks outside. He couldn’t bring himself to feel bitter that they didn’t find this troubling at all. He’d returned texts from his fellow Windsors with lighthearted insistences that procrastination really had made him too busy to hang out, knowing that the same would be true for them. More or less the only person he’d talked to in days was Rachel, who’d called about two hours after he’d said an excruciatingly cordial goodbye to Kurt at the Westerville Mall.
Not really paying attention to what he was saying, he’d given her a cheery but noncommittal answer somewhere along the lines of, “Yeah, I’d really love to, Rachel…I’ll have to see what I’m doing, though…I’ll definitely be there if I can.” Twenty-four hours before, he’d have been flattered that she’d thought to include him and agreed without hesitation; that afternoon he’d turned off his ringer, turned over, and gone back to sleep.
He’d treated it just like every other decision he dreaded making, and pushed it to the back of his mind to consider at a more convenient time. The back of his mind, of course, was already brimming with just about every Kurt-related thought, and he felt the exhausted smugness one of those fussy travelers who, after pummeling their suitcase, coaxing the zippers, had finally gotten it to close. Of course, this feeling was, in and of itself, akin to the discovery that he’d forgotten something important and now had to go through the ordeal all over again—because he caught himself wondering fondly if Kurt traveled like that, and there it was: a Kurt-related thought he’d somehow failed to stow away.
Kurt would be there. He couldn’t just…not if Kurt was going to be there.
On the other hand, he’d missed the other boy like hell. He knew with sobering certainty that he wouldn’t be able avoid his friend forever; only a week had gone by and he already felt oddly lonely—not to mention guilty. Surely bumping into him at a party would be easier than trying to seek him out one-on-one later (and he’d have a lot less explaining to do). So, in a sense, this was his last chance. …Other last chance, not to be confused with the last chance he’d blown whenever Kurt had lost interest. And just how interested had Kurt been in the first place, anyway? That was one of the most aggravating things about those gray-blue eyes; they hardly ever spelled out what Kurt was honestly feeling—at least not in a language that Blaine understood. Maybe he’d started second guessing himself too much, or maybe, somewhere along the line, he’d done something to drive the other boy to begin putting up walls.
Kurt’s attention had probably only been piqued at Blaine’s truly abominable wording of his Valentine’s Day plans. He was a teenager, he wanted a boyfriend he got along with well enough, for a split second—it appeared—he’d considered Blaine as a possibility. (And he hadn’t even said he liked the possibility, he’d just called Blaine out on his unintentional flirting.) There wasn’t any indication that he’d been attached to the thought at all. He probably saw it as nothing more than an option that hadn’t turned out to be worth pursuing.
He couldn’t figure out whether that whole analysis was supposed to be comforting (he hated to think that Kurt had harbored serious feelings and he’d hurt him without knowing) or excruciatingly painful (to think that Kurt had never wanted him especially, the way he wanted Kurt.)
He wanted Kurt. In every sense, with every implication of the word.
He could permit it to cross his mind now, instead of lurking vaguely in the background. Why?
Because he couldn’t do anything about it now. Because it would be highly boorish and unacceptable to do anything about it now. Because he now had a ready-made excuse not to put all this into words and spit it out. Because he was a goddamn coward. He was such a coward…
He buried his face in his hands with a growl of frustration. Sure, he’d be noble now—Blaine fucking Anderson was much too proud, much too considerate to be the jerk who was only interested in other people’s boyfriends, the smug little rich kid who felt perversely entitled to what he couldn’t have. He’d fixed things up brilliantly…and he wasn’t even thanking himself. How was that for gratitude?
Instead, he just felt miserable. Helpless. Angry.
He was going to Rachel’s party. He’d missed being around other people, and more importantly, if he didn’t suck up his self-pity and get used to seeing Kurt and Sam together now, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
He ran a hand musingly through his hair and sighed. If he wanted to get there at a reasonable hour, he didn’t have time to waste on his appearance. It was just as well…It wasn’t like he was trying to impress anyone. He left the hair gel untouched and tugged on dark jeans and a t-shirt. Maybe he should have taken a chance on more interesting apparel (he’d be hanging out with New Directions after all, and they were nothing if not quirky), but he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable standing out.
Rachel’s house was about forty-five minutes away. He ordinarily would have turned on the radio, but he couldn’t trouble himself to move his hands from the wheel. He hardly needed to pay attention to the road. The first time he’d driven to Lima on his own, he’d been anxious, attentive, going over the directions in his head. Kurt had sounded so shaken, so upset on the phone that he hadn’t wasted a moment in promising to be there, even though he’d barely known the other boy then.
He hummed a little and then began to sing quietly, instinctively. “The power lines went out, and I am all alone, but I don’t really care at all, not answering my phone…” He faltered a little, taken aback by how thin his voice sounded. Well, he hadn’t exactly spent much time warming up. He went on with mounting energy.
“…Lost sight, couldn’t see when it was you and me. Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight. I’m beginning to see the light…” He trailed off for a moment, biting his lip. He avoided singing songs like this in front of other people. It had always felt uncomfortable and almost indecent to bring his emotions onstage with him. “Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight, but I think I’ll be alright…”
He parked in front of Rachel’s house, as the driveway was already full, and slipped his keys in his pocket. It was around sunset and still fairly warm—no harm in forgetting to bring a sweater. He knocked, and, after a moment, remembered that no one would hear it from a basement full of loud music and mildly intoxicated teens. Drumming his fingers absently on his thigh to the beat of the song that was audible all the way on the porch, he let himself in and descended the stairs, figuring that he would probably be one of the last to arrive.
It took a moment for him to distinguish Rachel; after exhausting all other options, he concluded that she must be the provocatively-dressed brunette between Brittany and—his stomach lurched—Kurt. Perhaps it was his own lack of fashion savvy showing through, but he’d never seen anything particularly wrong with the way Rachel usually dressed. (Well, aside from the semi-Edwardian gown she’d been wearing at the last party—because it would have looked much better in blue.) He actually found it kind of cute in a nonsexual, platonic sense. He concluded that, to be fair, her current look probably would have appealed to him much more if he’d been straight; Finn certainly couldn’t take his eyes off her. Come to think of it, Finn and Rachel seemed rather distant for a couple that was usually quite affectionate. He wondered if they were having another argument and automatically thought to ask Kurt for the details so he wouldn’t say anything stupid.
He glanced away from this alarming new version of Rachel, and his eyes returned to rest on Kurt almost immediately. (His own reactions seemed so painfully obvious now—the way his eyes widened, the way the corner of his mouth quirked up, the way his heartbeat accelerated wildly. These changes couldn’t have been more than infinitesimal; it was really no wonder Kurt hadn’t noticed, but it still seemed astonishing that he hadn’t.) Sam wasn’t with him, which was a relief, to say the least. Easing into the new role of Friend With Zero Potential would be difficult enough by degrees. He looked away, flushing slightly, the instant their eyes met.
Well, while Kurt’s proximity to the bar prevented him from greeting his hostess (who seemed determined to down as many red plastic cups full of mystery mixes as possible), at least it kept him away from the temptation of having a drink himself. The last thing he needed was lowered inhibitions, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be taking any easy ways out tonight. If he needed to be drunk to speak to Kurt for the first time in over a week, he wouldn’t deserve much in the way of respect. Not to mention losing control of what he might say…the possibilities were mortifying… He was completely sober, and his brain was already supplying things like “God, you look amazing. (Beautiful.) (Sexy.)”
He moved past Finn to Santana and Quinn, also keeping their distance from Rachel, Kurt, and Brittany.
“Hey Quinn, Santana,” he greeted over the music. He didn’t know either of them particularly well; they’d all seen each other’s competition solos, and Santana had joined him and Kurt for coffee once or twice, but he couldn’t recall whether Quinn knew much about him beyond the fact that he’d made out with Rachel at the last party. So…what did one say to his crush’s boyfriend’s ex-girlfriends, anyway? He was fairly certain that there was no protocol for that particular relationship and wondered if it would be weird to ask them to dance, just to get all of their minds off of things. “I feel like I’ve walked into a war zone,” he admitted jokingly, gesturing to the various groups of people. (His gaze drifted to Kurt again, and he made himself look away.) Of course he was exaggerating. The atmosphere was mostly relaxed…but there was a peculiar sense of tension beneath it all, even so. “What’s been happening at McKinley lately?”
Of course, if something big had happened, he’d effectively communicated to them that he’d been avoiding Kurt for a while—but the fact that he wasn’t attached to the younger boy’s hip right now had probably given that away anyway. Besides, his affairs weren’t likely to provoke much interest from the members of New Directions, were they? - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
• B E C A U S E Y O U S A Y S O •
UNDER YOUR BREATH [/b][/size][/font] 1,928 WORDS | COMPLETE | TAGS: Er, anyone? Whoever actually got through my post?
LYRICS BY PANIC! AT THE DISCO | TEMPLATE BY ARRO
Bwahaha, why is it so long? To those who haven’t threaded with me before, I promise the next one won’t be a monster. I don’t bite. >.> The song used in the post is (obviously) “Candles,” by Hey Monday, performed more with the feeling of the original than of the Glee version. The Warblers did a different duet at Regionals due to...things that failed to happen between Blaine and Kurt.
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Post by KURT HUMMEL on Sept 22, 2011 17:13:41 GMT -6
[/IMG]
I TURN THE MUSIC UP,[/color] I GOT MY RECORDS ON.[/font] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *[/color]
Kurt's gaze lingered on Rachel's outfit for a moment while she stumbled around in front of him. ”When did you get here?”
[/b] He blinked a few times and answered. ”Finn brought me. We just got here a few minutes ago.” He smiled and resisted the urge to tell her that her shirt was slipping down her shoulder. She probably knew it was, but Kurt was just a little OCD about those things. ”Alright,” he said in a very exited tone after she told him where the cd was. ”I'll get it or switch the music if something boring comes on, I guess.” He un-buttoned the cardigan he was wearing and walked back across the room to sit down on the couch, while continuing to look around and try not to act fidgety. He text Sam a few hours ago and asked if he was coming, but got no reply. Sam was usually busy though, and Kurt wasn't angry with him for not showing up. He knew Sam had things to do. He leaned back on the couch and shut his eyelids tightly while exhaling. God, how he messed things up with Blaine. It wasn't his intention to let it slip out while they were at the mall. He knew Blaine was mad at him for something, whether it was due to the fact that Kurt hadn't told him, or because Blaine didn't want Kurt to be with anyone... he wasn't sure. The only thing he was sure of was that Blaine wasn't happy about something. He hoped Blaine wouldn't come, but then shook the thought off. The two needed to talk. He opened his eyes and scanned the room once more, directing his gaze over to Finn this time. He seemed to be watching Rachel with curious eyes. Kurt knew that look. He hated it when Finn broke up with someone; the poor boy just couldn't catch a break with relationships. He pursed his lips and looked back around to the bar, where Quinn and Santana were standing. Kurt didn't notice them walking in. Santana seemed to be staring at Brittany, but Quinn was looking right at Kurt. He snapped his gaze away and grumbled a little to himself about how stupid he was to come to a party in the situation he was in now. He knew Quinn seemed to be a little hurt over his whole relationship with Sam. He could see it in her eyes. Kurt stood up and stretched his slender legs, deciding to walk over to the bar and see if they had anything that wasn't too strong. He didn\t really want to get drunk, but the more he thought about the current events, the more he wanted to just let go. The new girl (that he noticed a few minutes ago) seemed to be talking to Brittany about drinks. Kurt wondered how Brittany could even remember the right drinks to mix. He loved the girl to death, but sometimes she just didn't have a clue. ”Hi, I'm Kurt.” He walked up to the girl and smiled, trying to strike up some type of conversation before he just completely lost it. ”Wild party, huh?”[/color] He chuckled a little. The party wasn't crazy enough to be pegged as wild just yet, but at the rate Rachel and Brittany were drinking, it was probably going to get out of hand soon. Kurt glanced over his shoulder and his smile faltered until it was a frown. Blaine has walked in at some point and was now chatting with Santana and Quinn. Kurt got a better look at the boy though. He looked... not like Blaine. At all. His hair was a mess, his shirt was half tucked in, half tucked out. He looked like he had been in some type of tough situation that caused sadness. Kurt knew Blaine too well. He knew the fake facial expressions. He knew when Blaine was having a rough time. And it tore him up inside to think that he was the one who caused it. Kurt turned back to the bar and almost yelled at Brittany over the music. ”Britt, give me the strongest thing you've got.”[/color] He ultimately regretted it, but knew he wouldn't last long without something to keep him going. [/SIZE][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *[/color] I SHUT THE WORLD OUTSIDE
UNTIL THE LIGHTS COME ON.[/color][/font] tag: everyone! // word count: 870 // wearing: hurr
credit: lyrics by coldplay // template by: A CUPCAKE LOVER !
notes:Poor Blaine : (
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Post by brittanypierce on Sept 26, 2011 15:57:10 GMT -6
  The night was young and the smile on Brittany’s face never left, the blonde couldn’t hide her excitement. The entire glee club needed a night like this again, it was so much fun when the crew finally just let loose and had a good time. Not to mention, Rachel’s basement was just perfect for a party. Not too small and not too big, and just the right size to keep everyone in the room. Brittany had considered throwing her own party some time when her parents were out, but Lord Tubbington got a little too crazy after a few drinks and there was no way Brittany wanted everyone to see that go down. Brittany giggled at Rachel’s comment, ”we look hot” she added, ”yes, we need more shopping trips missy,” she said as she finished their drinks up. Brittany actually did have fun with Rachel, which she didn’t really expect to, considering everything that Santana had told her about the girl, like how Rachel was a mountain troll and that when there was a full moon she took a person to her cave and ate them. But Brittany was starting to believe those stories less, Rachel seemed sweet and even though she talked a lot, she was still a pretty decent human being and Britt could tell Rachel was trying to make a better version of herself, especially she was newly single.
Brittany smiled at Rachel as she took her first drink, ”yeah, actually.. I mean it’d be fun! People would tip me like…. A lot.. but I can’t make real drinks… I find recipes confusing,” she tilted her head slightly at the thought, but quickly shrugged it away as she took another drink wanting to get drunk already. Brittany watched Rachel, wanting her to taste the drink before revealing to her what was inside of the red cup. Brittany smiled big when she saw Rachel down the drink, excited that Rachel liked it and asked the blonde to prepare another one for her. She took her cup happily and did as she was told, ”Vodka and punch, but I put A LOT more Vodka than punch… Lord Tubbington taught me how to make it”, she said matter-of-factly as she mixed Rachel’s drink happily. Brittany handed Rachel the next cup and picked up her own again, finishing it just as quickly. ”Body shots soon, Miss Berry!”, she exclaimed, hoping she could get some more people to do body shots off of her, they were so much fun. If Rachel was drinking fast, why shouldn’t she? It was about time someone got the party started, right? She quickly whipped another one up for herself and let her hips continue to move.
Brittany wanted to join Quinn and Santana but the music seemed to be reeling her in, she couldn’t help but keep dancing. Brittany loved to dance, hell, it was one of the few things she was incredibly good at, plus it was fun just letting your body move carelessly. She took a drink and that’s when Kurt came up and asked for something strong, it got her even more excited that people actually wanted her to continue making drinks. Little did they know, with her bartending, they were definitely going to get their buzz quickly. She put her cup down, making her way back to where all the drinks were set up and started another drink, this time for Kurt. ”You better dance with me tonight, kurt,” she yelled over the music as she mixed his drink. Her hips were still moving as she fixed it up for him, then finally she handed it to him, ”you said strong” she giggled as she watched him take his first sip. Brittany didn’t grab her cup just yet, she clapped rapidly first out of excitement. ”this is going to be so much fun!” she had to stop herself from looking at Santana, but as soon as she grabbed her cup she couldn’t help but look the latina’s way. Brittany took a long sip and checked Santana out, the blonde was a sucker for Santana’s legs, and boy was she showing them. Brittany’s body shuttered a bit and with that, she instantly looked away. It was hard to hold herself back when the person she wanted to be around but couldn’t necessarily touch, looked so damn irresistible. Santana could wear anything and rock it, in Britt’s opinion. It was hard though, mostly because Brittany didn’t have anyone to talk to about Santana, it was like their little secret.
 W O R D S * 755 ;;
T H O U G H T S *(:<3;;
T A G G E D *PARTY PPL;; ;; |
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Post by JESSE ST. JAMES on Jan 14, 2012 18:05:44 GMT -6
 stop there and let me correct it ,
i wanna live a life from a new perspective
Jesse knew that Rachel wasn’t really a party girl. Really, it was bizarre to associate such a wholesome young ingénue with the booze-filled teenage shenanigans of weekend get-togethers. He’d attended a fair few in his own time, but that was to be expected. At Carmel, he was the most popular guy in school, thus obligating him to show face at these social events. But Rachel? She was just too sweet and innocent in his eyes. She wouldn’t do anything that would damage her or compromise her career, and embarrassing pictures from parties had great potential to do that, so it came as a shock to hear that she was hosting a party. At her house. Without her dads home.
It made some sense that she would want to do this. After breaking up with Finn once again (finally; I thought he’d never leave her alone, he thought to himself), she needed to sort a few things out. Jesse would be there, of course, mostly as a friend. He wasn’t a rebounder, because he had pride and didn’t want to look desperate, but when an opportunity like this presented itself, who was he to turn it down? Tonight was the night he would start getting Rachel Berry back, and no way was he letting her go again.
When she came down the stairs, Jesse had to do a double-take. She hardly looked like herself without her comfortable animal sweaters and A-line skirts (those sweaters were one of his guilty pleasures. She always looked so adorable in them, no matter how out-of-style they were). Still, he had to admit that tonight’s outfit of choice, while not her usual style, was… well, it was unbelievably hot. She pulled it off really, really well, and once she caught his eye he wasn’t able to stop staring. She never approached him, though. His gaze followed her around the room, watching as she mingled with her guests and tossed an inebriated giggle in every now and then. Gone were her previous social awkwardness and inhibitions, he noticed. She was a veritable social butterfly right now, but she still wouldn’t talk to him.
And that smile. She was teasing him. It just had to be deliberate. Even if the purpose of her actions was just to make Finn jealous (he was positively green across the room), she was driving him crazy. She knew how much he cared about her. Would she really be so cruel as to lead him on? Because if that was the case, he didn’t want to give in so easily. Jesse was no one’s tool.
And yet, he was not expecting any of this to happen. Particularly when Rachel took the mixed drink from Brittany. Wasn’t that kind of drink too strong for her? Apparently not, Jesse noted as he watched her down the whole thing and ask for another. She turned suddenly tipsier while she continued to… not ignore him, but avoid him, talking to some girl who only looked vaguely familiar. It wasn’t fair at all that she kept staring at him, meeting his gaze halfway across the room and refusing to do anything about it.
Was he mistaken, or did that dark look in her eyes say that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her? Because with the music pounding in his ears and the imminent buzz of intoxication, he was starting to rethink his plan of waiting for her. Waiting could wait. This was a night of action.
He took his time going over to the girls, a confident swagger to his step. After all, they had an audience. ”Why, Rachel, don’t you look gorgeous tonight. Mind if I join you ladies for a drink?” he commented casually, checking Rachel out in the most obvious manner he could pull off without seeming like a douchebag. Somewhere in there, Finn would undoubtedly be watching and fuming and Jesse wanted to show him what he was missing before taking it for himself.
you come along because i love your face ,
and i'll admire your expensive taste
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - tagged everyone words 664outfit (lol idk how to do this) notes sorry this took me half a forever! but hopefully things will get better activity-wise now! status un/finished template nixxy of CAUTION 2.0
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Post by RACHEL BERRY on Jan 15, 2012 21:02:12 GMT -6
 
She could feel all the eyes on her, and for the first time it wasn’t because she was doing something that people would call ‘weird’—but of course that was all a matter of opinion and a lot of the fools that stepped into their school every day didn’t have a sense of what was right or wrong strong enough to judge her on what she was doing—but instead they were eying every inch of leg that was lengthened by the heels strapped vicariously across her ankles, the shorts that clung to her skin, shorter than she had ever even tried to squeeze her way into, and a top that barely attached itself to her shoulders, one side gently sliding down her shoulder—the black strap of her bra peeking out—teasing every boy in the room with skin that she knew they had never seen. Should Rachel feel bad about how she was dressing—granted that it was the first time she had ever gone this far out in proving a point or to get back, but really she loved the feel of their eyes—or should it really be something that she should be proud of? No one looked like they were angry, or annoyed, but an admiring gleam twinkled in the color of their eyes as her ears burned; someone was talking about her, Rachel could feel it. Trying to ignore the feeling she smiled at Brittany. Never in her life had she thought that she would have felt a real connection to the girl, not saying that she didn’t enjoy being around her—constant musings came from the little that she knew and the naivety that fell from her usually frosted lips—but their relationship was always hindered by Santana who still treated Rachel badly, even now. “Smoking” Rachel giggled back in response. Was it really that much of a difference to people, that what she wore could pull in or push people away? What ever happened to the ‘never judge a book by it’s cover’ motto go, forever lost within a sea of adolescent angst that twirled around her and her friends constantly; or was it actually never there in the first place? Regardless, Brittany treated her differently, and in turn Rachel felt better about herself.
“Shopping?” Rachel felt almost pride bubble up from the bottom of her toes as she smiled, giggling as one of the songs ended, the tinkling of her soft laugh bouncing throughout the room. “That sounds wonderful! I can’t wait! There has to be something else that Brittany can find for me. Maybe I’ll help you hit that high note you’ve been having trouble with.” Smiling Rachel didn’t even think of the hurt it might cause Brittany to just think of the fact that she cant hit a note—she wasn’t thinking that far, if anything Rachel just assumed that anyone would love to have her help, I mean really, who wouldn’t? Listening to the girl speak about her drink, she could feel the burning down her throat, molten magma tinged with rubbing alcohol tore into her stomach to which the effects subsided and then only made the girl bubble with laughter, “I think you would get a lot of money, it would be a great job for you!” She smiled running her fingers over the sides of the plastic cup that was placed in her hands.
Vodka, huh, If anything Rachel had never had anything even close to the strength of what people said Vodka had been. Maybe they were exaggerating a bit, but It didn’t matter how much they were exaggerating, seeing as she couldn’t hold down her wine-cooler last party that she had vicariously downstairs at her house. Only bits and pieces had come back to her about that night, and that was mostly because of the fact that she had to clean up the mess the day after. Even though it tasted like a fire on her tongue, there was a great taste that had somehow twined itself into the drink. As soon as the girl had shouted body shots, Rachel hadn’t understood completely what she had been referring to. Most people knew that she wasn’t the strongest in knowing what all of the alcoholic ‘games’ or beverages were, but the only thing that Rachel could even associate with body shots, were the things that Santana and Brittany had done during the first party. Both of them looked like they had enjoyed themselves, and If Rachel was going to have any fun, or break loose, or even make her ex jealous then she would have to be extreme, be something that all boys wanted: a Party girl. “You got it Britt!” she called back, smiling before the two parted, and Rachel almost stumbled into Annie.
She let the girl speak before smiling in her direction, “I don’t do this often myself, but if you really want something great, I would go talk to that girl over there” Rachel said smiling, and pointing over at Brittany, “She made me what I’m drinking, or I would find….where is he?” She puffed, putting her hands on her hips looking back and forth for Puck before meeting eyes with Jesse again. Her agitation melted, and a smile curved up her plumped lips before she spoke to the girl, her eyes unwavering from Jesse “Well if you find Puck, that is another guy to look for, he knows his drinks.” Flashing Jesse a smile that she only hoped she had pulled off as a ‘sexy’ look, she turned past Finn, who was nearly scowling, and her face lost any amusement that it held and turned her gaze back to Annie, “I’m going to go find kurt. I hope you get your drink.”
It only took a moment for her to spot Kurt, he was with Brittany, dancing and all she could do was laugh as she saw the two drinking together. “Kurt! You have Brittany making your drinks too!” Rachel put a light hand on her hip opening her mouth to say something else, before a voice she hadn’t heard in way to long interrupted her before she could even start.
Turning, Jesse St. James had come up behind her, graciously smiling at her along with the other girls, Kurt and Brittany. Rachel couldn’t help to find the humor in the fact that he didn’t even acknowledge the fact that Kurt was also standing among them. Giggling, she leaned into him as she could almost feel the scowl come off of Kurt, “Of course! But you know Kurt is here too silly!” She let herself look up at him through her thick eyelashes, a smile pulling over her sparkling teeth. Rachel’s hand moved from her side up to his forearm, “Please! Get a drink! Brittany is making drinks with….with….. what was it….” She looks into her cup confused as if staring deeper into it would tell her. She handed the cup to Jesse, “Oh never mind, you should try it though. Its pretty good.” Smiling at him she could feel the glare coming off of Finn, and oh she loved it.
words1191 next no real posting order yet. wearingthis lyricsinside out-britney spears
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Post by JESSE ST. JAMES on Jan 17, 2012 17:04:31 GMT -6
stop there and let me correct it , [/I][/size] i wanna live a life from a new perspective[/font][/center]
Jesse absolutely adored that Rachel was soaking up all of the attention he gave her like a sponge. All the tension between them could be resolved so easily he almost couldn’t believe it. Either that, or she was more drunk than willing. Come to think of it, he was never particularly good at telling the difference between the two. He normally was too drunk to care, anyway.
Not yet, today, though. The party had barely started, so he hadn’t even gotten a drink. It wasn’t as if he intended to leave tonight; at least half of the kids in attendance would likely end up passed out on the floor only to wake up tomorrow morning with the biggest hangover they’d ever experienced with several missed calls from their parents, if they cared enough. There was no point in leaving, so why not have as much fun as possible while he was there? Especially if it included making out with Rachel in front of that oaf Finn.
Rachel was a lot more touchy-feely when she was drunk, Jesse noticed. And a bit giggly, which was just cute. He put his arm around her when she leaned into him, as if it was something the two of them always did. He was possessive of her, even, pulling her small frame closer and keeping her there. Part of him wanted to protect her from the angry stares pointed at them (actually, more at him, since most if not all the others hated him. Hey, it wasn’t his fault; he was nothing if not brutally honest), but he mostly enjoyed the feeling of her body against his. That was something he wouldn’t mind getting used to again.
When she pointed out Kurt’s presence, he barely acknowledged him. He only offered a quick, ”Yeah, hi,” before turning his attention back to Rachel. That conversation wasn’t really worth having. Kurt was a nice kid, and he worked hard, but Jesse didn’t see him amounting to anything much because he was so different. No point in wasting his time with someone who probably wouldn’t have a career in theater.
As Rachel smiled up at him, Jesse stole a glance toward Finn in a corner and took a moment to bask in the infuriated glare on his face. He was so tempted to just go over and say “she isn’t yours anymore; deal with it”, just to see what would happen, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked into the cup that Rachel had shoved in his hand, some of the contents sloshing out over the lip and spilling onto his fingers and the floor. He grimaced at the sensation, being unable to do anything about it, and took a sip.
The familiar burn of vodka spread down his throat. That was completely unexpected, and he almost choked on it. Something that strong was definitely too much for Rachel; no wonder she was drunk already. But it had a nice citrus-y, fruity tang to it, as well. ”This is pretty good. What’s in it?” he asked, taking another gulp. Another one of these, maybe another and a half, and he would have a pleasant buzz.
The more he drank, the more the burn receded into an all-over warmth. He just felt cozy by the time he finished the cup, tossing it over his shoulder and not caring where it landed. ”Hey, Rachel, baby, dance with me,” he offered, pulling her with him to the middle of the floor. He wanted another drink, too, but his desire to be close to her was stronger than his thirst. The music was louder than it had been, or was it softer? His ears hurt a little, and he knew it was from the pounding bass, but he couldn’t really hear it as much as he could five minutes ago. Whatever. The volume of the music was irrelevant because it had a beat and he and Rachel could move to it together and just soak up all the attention because hello, they were clearly the most attractive couple in the room and everyone else was jealous of how great they were. Especially Finn, who was still sitting in the corner looking like an idiot. ”Seriously, Rachel, I meant it. When I said you were gorgeous. You are literally the most beautiful person in the room—no, the world right now,” he leaned down and whispered into her ear. He slowed his dancing to a stop, still holding her against him as he lowered his head to her neck, kissing her where her neck met her shoulder. ”I still love you, you know.” He stayed still, waiting to see if she rejected him or not, and if she did then at least he got to hold her one last time.
you come along because i love your face , [/I][/size] and i'll admire your expensive taste[/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/center] tagged everyone words 796 outfit (lol idk how to do this) notes yay post of st. berry goodness! Let’s see how much we can piss finn off! status un/finished template nixxy of CAUTION 2.0
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Post by RACHEL BERRY on Jan 17, 2012 19:28:45 GMT -6
Pretty, no gorgeous. He called her that pretty. It dawned on her not the time that he spoke, but moments after the words fell from his lips. Jesse was always one that would point out the good, the beautiful—sometimes to get what he wanted—but Rachel only took the compliment as something that made her feel like a princess more so than everyone else had already done. Everything just seemed greater coming from the one and only Jesse St. James, his god like presence only weakening her enfeebled knees, also something that the alcohol didn’t help. Rachel always had gone to great lengths to prove herself to him, and to hear anything that precious from him made a blush flush across her cheeks. Sure, half of her team still really hated Jesse for what he had done to them, and to Rachel—slamming eggs in a girls face was hardly a way to break up with her—she had forgiven him, almost as quickly as she had nearly damned him. It was hard to think of a life somewhere without Jesse, even just as a friend someone with that much Broadway insight was something that Rachel craved and truthfully thought was downright hot—and Broadway boys were hard to come by in Lima, and if they were it was more likely that they were looking for a person with, well, a different set of equipment than she had been assembled with.
As Rachel leaned on the boy to keep her balance, his arm snaked around her waist, fingers nearly brushing the soft skin of her hip as she leaned even more into his embrace. Giggling at his response to her telling him that Kurt was still there, she walked her fingers up his side, one finger after another and followed each step as if it might be the last thing that they might ever do. Reaching his chest, the fingers twined themselves into the fabric of his shirt as she leaned her head against his arm. “you…you come here…?” She beckoned him with a finger, her laugh twinkling lightly over the throbbing bass. Trying to make her face as completely normal as possible, but it always twisted back into the giggly girl exposed when she drank anything—anything. As his ear lowered to her mouth she giggled playfully. “You are really warm mister!” Her breath twisted against his cheek and she ran her fingers through his pretty brown hair before looking back to Brittany, completely oblivious to how completely close the two of them were. Lips inches from one another, arms once in an easy position to caress, was torn carelessly away by a nearly plastered Rachel as she turned and spoke to Brittany who was telling her what she had put into the drink that was already handed into what Rachel had assumed was Jesse’s open and willing hand. Their talking didn’t last long before the girl heard Jesse’s voice over her shoulder and she turned happily back to him, “Vodka, and…orange juice. But she said something about putting more of the vodka in than the orange juice.” She smiled as he finished off with the rest of the drink. “Do you like it..?” An innocent smile played on her face as she took his hands in hers and she swung them back and forth in a playful manner laughing as he spun her around.
Stumbling lightly, the girl let Jesse pull on her arm as he spoke gently to her. ‘Baby…?’ no one had called her that in ages, maybe it was him who had called her that. “Okay Jesse! But you have to twirl me and stuff!” She laughed spinning into him before laughing so hard she had to bend over lightly as she danced with him. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Rachel felt the beat of the music consume her as each hip swayed back and forth, hitting each bass thump with her hips, with her hands over her head fingers twined together as she could feel the heat of Jesse’s body against her own but as the tempo shifted, so did Jesse’s movements, instead of quickening the pace like the song tried to throw the disgruntled teens into, instead his body stopped all together and Rachel was moving by herself for a good few moments before she even realized he had stopped. “W-why’d you stop!” laughing she grabbed his hands pumping them forward in cadence twisting her hips as if she was stuck in a music video stuck in the eighties. His words stopped her in the silly dancing that she was trying to pull off with all of her might. Their hands still clasped, hanging down at her hips as he leaned down to continue what he was saying as she gently let go of his hands, migrating them to his shoulders and squeezes them gently as he spoke the kind words to her, the heart behind its cage fluttered like a bird. Beautiful was a word that Rachel craved, all the time. It didn’t matter when or where she was, whenever someone told her she was beautiful she was going to fall deep into it.
Though as she opened her mouth to speak to him, to thank or maybe even to comment or give him a compliment of his own, he had leaned down, pressing his lips against her skin, making her soul burn stronger than even the Vodka had done for her. Rachel made sure to tilt her head to the side enough for him to have ample room to continue, her alcohol clouded mind didn’t care who saw this, all it craved was the touch, the feeling that Jesse was giving her, that was all she wanted. His heat, his smell, his touch Rachel went up on the tips of her toes, trying to get even closer to his lips before she froze. The L word; Love. Her heart skipped a beat before she pressed her cheek against his and then went back down on her feet looking up into his eyes. "W-well of course I love you," The blues twined together and she smiled at him, which grew, her heart laughing before she laughed herself before quickly putting her hands on his cheeks and placing her lips on his, just for a moment though, teasing him before turning and sliding out of his arms, a game of cat and mouse completely sane in her eyes. Grinning, Rachel could feel him catching up to her as she turned around, letting herself lean against the table as Jesse caught up to her. “You found me!” She said covering her face as she laughed again. But then she got serious again, eyes digging into his, as she smiled again, a fire finding their way into the pits of her eyes as she grabbed the front of his shirt, “Body shots….?” Grinning she brought her lips close to his before pulling away nearly as quickly. “Now…?”
words1183 next no real posting order yet. wearingthis lyricsinside out-britney spears
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Post by BLAINE ANDERSON on Jan 22, 2012 19:47:14 GMT -6
It didn’t take Blaine long to realize that he couldn’t take in a word of Quinn and Santana’s news about McKinley, although he did pick up a few useful details about the latest Finn and Rachel disaster. He knew he should probably attempt to keep the conversation going, but he hadn’t been able to gage either of their opinions toward the situation, so he couldn’t be sure what opinion he was supposed to have. His concentration vacillated between an appropriate level of eager but totally neutral interest in the gossip and anxiety at the impending conversation with Kurt (and he’d been staring too long, time to drag his eyes back, oh, God), when Rachel’s slightly elevated voice made him jump. Okay, he’d definitely have guessed she and Finn were no longer together.
That was the Jesse St. James, whose glee club had destroyed the Warblers at Sectionals the first time Blaine had competed, right? And the Jesse Kurt had complained about once or twice—something about girl songs and making breakfast on people’s heads. The show choir world was small indeed.
God, now the girls were looking at him like he was maybe supposed to pass judgment (Santana passed a rather lewd judgment, but his consciousness lost it on the way back from the affectionate exchange between Rachel and Jesse after taking yet another unfortunate detour to Kurt’s legs. Being around these people always trapped him into focusing on too many things at once.) Neither of them really liked Rachel, did they? But he did, so did that make his opinion unwelcome? He didn’t especially want to burn his bridges; he was one of those people who saved at every possible point in video games and got a much bigger adrenaline rush when a potential ally asked him a make-or-break question than when he had to kill monsters.
“Would either of you ladies like to dance?” he asked abruptly, just for something to do, and maybe to give them something to do, as neither looked like they were having much fun.
“Sure. What the hell,” Santana grabbed his elbow and steered him towards the middle of the room after giving him a long, searching stare like she was trying to figure out exactly what his angle was. He squirmed. Not that he was intimidated by her (okay, he was a little intimidated) but he hadn’t exactly expected an x-ray once-over in response to a simple question. Besides, he didn’t have an angle. Did he have an angle? In order to make Kurt jealous, he’d have to be confident that Kurt was actually interested, which he wasn’t, so that was out.
He’d taken a few dance classes, but the situation didn’t quite call for any of them, so he moved to the music in a manner that was probably more than a little goofy but fun, nonetheless. The song was a new one from Lady Gaga, and it occurred to him to ask Kurt what it actually meant before Oh. Right. Still need to reestablish contact with Kurt. Cool, he’d actually forgotten about that for a second.
“God, you dance like my grandpa, and he’s got a walker. Come here.”
She grabbed his shirtfront and suddenly she was way too close. His body adjusted automatically to the more deliberate, aggressive pace, but he was completely at a loss as to where to put his hands. There was a certain distance where one was ideally supposed to touch the person one was dancing with, and they’d reached it about five squirts of intimidatingly strong hairspray (perfume?) ago. He fluttered them ineffectually and virtuously staved off the temptation to touch by being completely untempted. He stared at Kurt over her shoulder, focusing his attention on the arch of the boy’s neck and the scarf looped carelessly around it (and if he tugged on the end of it once, softly, would it pull Kurt closer, or would it just slip down Kurt’s neck until it came off in his hand?) and wow. Definitely tempted. And definitely zoning out.
“Shit, we need to get Hummel’s sweet ass over here; you’re about as turned on by this as I am.”
He was about to argue that not every form of dancing had to result in titillation, which probably would have garnered more derision for his use of the word “titillation” in casual conversation, but something else occurred to him.
“As you are?” he quoted, lifting his eyebrows, unable to help being curious. Understandably, she bristled. If she’d heard about him from Kurt, he probably didn’t have a reputation for being observant, and now probably wasn’t the time to change that, especially with thinly veiled questions about sexuality.
“You’re munchkin-sized and you put way too much crap in your hair. What’s up with you and the pink power ranger, anyway? You’re usually like one of those freaky magnetic bear sets that got banned for being offensively cheesy.”
“It’s, um…” Did she know about Kurt and Sam? They might want to keep a low profile, considering all the lunacy that seemed to sweep up New Directions’ constantly-evolving couples. “I’ve been kind of a jerk to him, and he might not want to talk to me,” he said over the music, fighting the inclination to mumble.
She stared at him with this weird mix of derision and pity, and it was even more intense from a few inches away. He wondered if it would be weird to put his hands platonically on her waist at this point, because leaving them hanging while her arms were around his neck made him feel even more inexperienced and foolish than he already did. “Never stopped me from talking to people,” she shrugged, and he bit back an angry retort (because she seemed so confident, and it just wasn’t fair.)
“Look, I'm not into dancing with guys who ignore me. Come on.” And before he could dig his heels into the floor or something equally childish, she steered him in Kurt’s direction. “He needs to get laid, you definitely need to get laid, and I’m guessing you both have that charming little obsession about getting it on with someone special, right?”
He swallowed, his expression stuck between mutinous and deeply embarrassed.
“I’d prefer to see some hot boy-on-boy action, but if I don’t at least see talking, I’ll kick your ass. Got it?”
A deep breath. He already had the impression that this round was Santana-plus-ten, Blaine-minus-five, which had probably been her original intention, but he had to come up with some sort of parting shot.
“Thanks for the advice, Santana.” This was maybe the lamest thing that had ever come out of his mouth, but it seemed to throw her a little bit, so maybe things were now at Blaine-minus-four.
He ducked past someone who’d already had a little too much and crossed the remaining distance to Kurt with his heart pounding. Oh. Was he drinking? Would that make this easier or harder?
“Hey.” He crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “Santana…can be a little overwhelming, can’t she?” So, was he supposed to apologize now? Or, and he hadn’t thought of this before, had Kurt really even noticed that they’d been out of touch? Oh, god, he probably should have checked his voicemails and texts for the past week before getting here. That might have helped a bit in determining whether Kurt had noticed he was being ignored, and whether he was mad. What could he say now, “Excuse me for a second while I duck out and brush up on how badly I may or may not have hurt your feelings”? And what if he hadn’t noticed? What if he thought it was natural for them drift apart, now that he had a boyfriend and everything?
He settled on a casual apology to test the waters. “Sorry I…Sorry I haven’t been around for a while, it’s just…” Now what? He trailed off, watching Kurt’s eyes.
WORDS! 1,326
TAGS! Kurt can finally reply! xD
NOTES! ...Sorry for all of this, haha. But I finally have a post.
INSPIRATION! The Killers
CREDITS! Template Byarro @ Caution! |
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Post by EVAN BRIGHTMAN on Jan 23, 2012 18:33:40 GMT -6
Evan stared at the reflection in the mirror, this invite if you can call it that to Rachel's party tonight. Sounded like a lot of fun, screw any drama their might be. It was his god given right, hell their god given right to gate crash it and liven it up. So Ethan and he were leaving for said party in a little while. The limo was downstairs waiting for them, seeing as they planned on drinking their was no way in hell he was going to drive their baby to Lima and back. He didn't really feel like having that particular argument with his dad as the man paid bail for them then confiscating said baby. "Ethan I'm heading down to the limo." Evan said to him. "Are you coming or not?" He asked. He knew the answer to that question already, but it seemed to speed his brother up. Maybe their be something hot to look at which wasn't Kurt Hummel, that was kind of dull these days.
The trip into Lima which was home turth for the twins, was not a short one, traffic seemed to not understand the need to get somewhere in a hurry at some point in the evening. They made a stop of at the off license getting the drive to go in and stock up, no party had such a thing as to much alcohol. Then it was straight on to the house in question. It wasn't quite on the same scale as they were used to, actually pretty understated as houses go. They'd heard of this Rachel Berry woman who hadn't, but they had no idea what they were about to walk into.
When they entered the house Evan turned to Ethan and grinned, "Well the music aint to bad thats a plus." Evan said to him Ethan laughed.
"I'll check out the drinks, you go announce our arrivals." Ethan said to him.
"You think the nerfs should stay in the car?" He asked bis brother grinner at him and nodded before leaving him in the hallway. "Hey kid theirs a limo out front with a load of booze in it for this party, take a friend and get it." He said to him. "Don't think about taking it for a joy ride, you dent it you pay for it. Is that understood." Evan said. The kid had no idea how screwed he'd be if he actually tried to do what he would be thinking, when he saw the limo.
He went about the house looking for people he knew or whom looked remotely familiar. He'd competed against New Directions at sectionals and regionals of course like every member pretty much of the Warblers. Finally he spotted someone who looked vaguely familiar and made his way towards them. He grinned at the site of the two and as he got close he heard some of what the boys were saying... awkward.
"Wow this is awkward, has the hobbit wedged his foot in his mouth again?" He asked Kurt patting Blaine on the shoulder. "What have I told you about that... having your foot that close to your nose its disgusting dude... cheesy and I'm not talking Katy Perry cheesy." He added his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Hey Kurt how are you? Any one new in your life? How's the sex life? Is he hung? Does he make you happy? Are their wedding bells in the future?" He asked the counter tenor in rapid succession. "I think I covered everything of import, maybe I missed something what do you think Blaine?" He added.
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