anonymous asked:

What are the big differences personality-wise between Matty and Connie? They both seem really similar (really nice and kind gentle giants who everyone adores), but I'm sure there's a lot that I'm forgetting about :p

Matty lets things roll off his back a LOT easier? I mean, if Connie had a Robbie saying some of that stuff Robbie’s said to Matty he’d curl into a ball forever. Matty worries a lot less than Connie, he doesn’t internalize things as much, and he has an easier time expressing his feelings without feeling like he might be like, pushing himself on someone else. And some of that is age, that Connie’s years younger than Matty and hopefully he’ll learn to do some of that as he matures, but Matty’s fundamentally a lot more laid back than Connie. 

He’s also a lot less shy. Matty with people he doesn’t know as well isn’t quite the way Matty is with Wheels or Robbie or Crane, but he’s pretty comfortable with new people (in a non-romantic context, he gets REALLY awkward if he likes someone). His default is kind of quiet, but he’s not actually shy the way Connie is, just quiet by preference. Connie’s often quiet, but that’s not…preference, exactly, he talks a lot when he’s comfortable with someone, Connie rambles are like, a staple of Victor’s existence (and increasingly Harry’s), he has a lot of ideas he wants to express but he worries that he’ll bore someone, or annoy them, and starts to self-police how much he’s talking or what percentage of the conversation, and do they look interested, and often that ends in him just clamming up.

And, this is also very much based on age, Matty’s less self-centered. This isn’t a dig on Connie, he’s twenty years old and he focuses on his own feelings a lot because he can’t not, because they’re overwhelming, and when you worry about everything you necessarily spend a lot of time centered upon yourself, but that’s another big difference between them.

But yes, kind gentle giants from Western Canada. High five boy-os!

(”Can…can I join?” Andy asks, and I GUESS, c’mon in buddy. They can add a motormouths they love faction in Robbie, Harry, and Derek, but that would…probably not end well as a faction. Seems like there’d be arguments. Possibly an increasingly vicious prank war. Let’s nix that idea.)

Klaine Advent 2016: Day 7 Guess

Day 7: Guess

Kurt wants Blaine to guess what his birthday present is. 2136 words of the fluffiest fluff ever. Really. It’s making MY teeth ache.

It had, in all seriousness, been Blaine’s best birthday ever, this first as a married man. Kurt had woken him, not with kisses but with the smell of his famous overnight French toast casserole and with a cup of dark roast coffee made from the beans Kurt bought at the coffee shop near NYADA. Well, Blaine made sure there were kisses then, but soon Kurt was pulling him out of bed and down the hallway to his office alcove. “Look, Blaine. Our tree is blossoming for you.”

The single branch that arched past the window was covered in pink blossoms. “Looks like it’s a cherry tree,” Blaine exclaimed. “I win the bet!”

“What bet?”

“When he helped us move in, Sam said crab apple. They had one in the backyard of their old house. But cherries SMELL better,” he said, pushing up the window. He wasn’t met with a scent of blossoms, but rather with the noise of the traffic on the busy street outside. Still, it felt like all of nature—or at least this corner of New York—was giving him a birthday greeting.

Kurt pressed a handmade card into his hands where he sat at his bright little desk and ran off to turn the bacon.

Inside the card was a handmade gift certificate good for lunch with Elliott at Bareburger, and Elliott had invited some of Blaine’s pals from the Musical Theory class they had somehow ended up taking together (Blaine suspected Kurt’s hand in that).

So lunchtime was ridiculous fun, with Nolan beatboxing for the stupidest birthday song ever. And balloons. There were balloons. Elliott made sure to add lots of “Blaine’s birthday” photos to his Snap story all through lunch, and Blaine noted that Kurt posted his likes practically instantaneously with the pics.

Blaine’s afternoon was spent in the theatre lab, working on scenes from Moliere, and his acting muscles—and his real muscles—felt well-stretched by the end of the day in the best way. It gave him plenty to think about on the subway and enabled him to ignore the strange looks at his balloon bouquet. Well, most of the looks. One little guy asked him why he had balloons and then solemnly announced that it was his birthday too—well, soon.  When the boy’s mother laughed, Blaine held two balloons out to her. Happiness was meant to be shared after all.  

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