jew-eating-t-rex:

konchoo:

pencilpushingenthusiast:

For the vastly talented and all-around lovely zephyrianboom, with whom I have the great honor of conducting my very first Art Trade! Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear, sweet artist! Hope it’s every bit as wonderful as Kurt and Blaine’s ;)

Reblogging this again before going to bed because this is freakin flawless and Blaine’s smile and all the head-canon and beautiful, beautiful Klaine are so freakin beautiful and lfkjgafdlkagfdjlga. This is perfection.

Can someone like, write a flully one-shot of this?

The two laid together on Kurt’s bed, spooning one another amongst piles of chocolate boxes and flowers and Kurt’s brand new McQueen sweater folded neatly at the foot of his bed. The gentle pitter-patter of rain could be heard, a ghost trickling its way gently down the Hummel-Hudson’s rooftop. And yet the two boys still stayed where they were, drinking in one another’s presence. 

It was their first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and Blaine couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of it-after all, the two had met shortly before Blaine sang a song about spending every February with his Valentine. And here they lay, a sleepy Kurt nestled perfectly under the crook of Blaine’s neck. Craning slightly, Blaine sneaked a few kisses up and down Kurt’s neck and sucked his earlobe gently, whispering perfectly in tune, “Now every February, you’ll be my Valentine”. At those words, Kurt began to stir, glancing up with the dopey smile he always wore when Blaine was the first glorious sight after a deep sleep. Leaning in for a chaste kiss, Blaine sighed deeply, and kissed back thoroughly. Reaching behind him, he snatched a flower from the bouquet lying on the bedside table, and traced it up and down every curve of Kurt’s body. Leaning down, his curls trailing over Kurt’s forehead, he whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Kurt.” And Kurt smiled, pulling Blaine in for his final present of the evening, and silently replied, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Blaine.”