plaine

“He’s gone, and it’s my fault. He’s gone, forever…”

“Shh, it’s okay, bud. I got you, I’m here.”

Inspired by these posts. What if Puck had been there? I mean, he doesn’t have to be co-directing the play. He’s just there, and he sees Blaine break down and he chases after him. He doesn’t really say anything, he’s just being a good friend and silently supporting Blaine aND WHY COULDN’T THAT BE CANON? THEN BLAINE WOULD BE COMFORTED BY THE FACT THAT AT LEAST ONE PERSON STILL CARES FOR HIM SINCE CLEARLY NO ONE ELSE GIVES A FLYING PIGS FUCK ANYMORE. PLAINE FEELS ASDFGHKLLKJ.

Blame it on the Alcohol || Plaine

Before the entire mishap of being kidnapped, forced away from his life, and turned into a sex slave, Blaine had dreams, and aspirations. Some were greater than others. While Blaine no longer desired being on Broadway, he had still had many thoughts about college, and what being in college was supposed to mean. Frat parties, doing stupid things, just.. living out of order. While Blaine was Puck’s the mere idea of that was almost laughable. They’d gone to a couple of parties, sure, but the last time they’d really gone out, they ended up fighting. Blaine wasn’t good with a lot of alcohol in his system. He either became obnoxiously horny, or belligerent.  Only one of which was good, and even then that was a conditional ‘good.’ Blaine had lied, telling his Master that he had to go to a study group after class for a project. Which… wasn’t a total lie. He’d known he wouldn’t have allowed him to go to a party by himself, but Blaine just wanted to live for a couple hours. He didn’t want to be watched while he drank, constantly worrying about saying something wrong. He knew Puck would find out, but he’d decided to deal with the consequences later.

In result, Blaine had gotten drunk. The guys he’d gotten close to in class threw a huge party, and Blaine had been involved in plenty of alcohol. He’d almost done body shots off another guy, but thoughts of his Master back at home kept him from doing so. Though, the other guy was admittedly attractive as well. After some persuasion, Blaine and a couple of his friends had decided to walk off some of the alcohol. By walking off, Blaine was leaning against the two of them because walking wasn’t really a great option for him. They were obviously loud, obnoxious, singing in the streets about drinking and sex, things that would obviously bother anybody in the neighborhood around the college. Had Blaine been sober, he wouldn’t have been surprised that someone called the cops. But he hadn’t been sober, and neither had his friends.

So, singing to the officers that confronted them seemed the best way to handle things. Blaine had even gone as far as to make sexual innuendos as the officer frisked him, and with an affirmative look at his ID, Blaine found himself in the back of a cop car. Something about disrupting the peace and underage drinking. Whatever, Blaine knew everyone did it, and Puck would come get him. All the while, Blaine took it as a joke. He’d spent most of getting processed laughing and trying to hold everybody’s hand, and when it got time for his phone call, an officer had to dial the number for him. The phone rang in his ear and he couldn’t help but 'riiing’ along with it, which earned an amused and slightly irritated look from the officer. He’d clearly never indulged. What a loser.

The moment Puck’s voice was on the line, he let out a shout of happiness, one that gave him plentiful dirty looks around the area, and a warning from the officer. “Grumpypants.” He murmured, rolling his eyes and holding the phone close to his ear. “Puck! Hi! Yer so wunnndahful.” He slurred, not too sure if his words sounded coherent, or like a giant blur. And honestly? He didn’t give a crap. He was too happy to let dialect ruin his thoughts.

Get Closer || Plaine
  • Puck:gently cupped Blaine's cheek as he leaned in to give him a soft kiss, letting his tongue trace the seam of Blaine's lips. Lowly, he groaned in the back of his throat as he moved his body to lie half on top of Blaine before he broke the kiss and sat up to take off his shirt. His eyes roamed over Blaine's chest and he gave the shorter man a small smirk as he leaned down and pressed his lips against his skin. Pressing his body against Blaine, Puck spent a while just tasting and nipping at his slave's skin and one hand moved between their bodies to pop open the button of his jeans.
Remain Nameless
  • Remain Nameless
  • Florence + The Machine
  • Ceremonials (Deluxe Version)
Play

Kitsy’s Plaine Playlist
Remain Nameless - Florence + The Machine

Screaming out a love song All the broken chords and unnamed cries
What a place to come from
You can call it what you want
You can call me anything you want You can call us what you want
Everybody lets you down In this brief hole of a town
What a difference of the rushing out
Tell me what you’re running from
Call me when you need me
Call me anything you want
Darling believe me 

Chim Chimney || C 002

Puck had half a mind to just leave early, his body aching. But he didn’t have anywhere to go, at least not yet, and well if he left early, that meant less money next week. Besides, he already got reprimanded for showing up ‘a wreck’ even though he was in uniform and shit. But apparently it wasn’t acceptable to go cleaning out in public with scraped knuckles, a healing split lip and a black eye. Fuck 'em, he thought, as he was delegated to cleaning 'behind the scenes’. Puck wanted to see  if Blaine was working, but at the same time he didn’t want the guy to ask questions. Didn’t stop him from cleaning near the ride, but he didn’t go out of his way to be visible.