but also klaine

klaine-run-the-world  asked:

Chris said multiple times his favorite couple is Lucy and Ricky, even tho that show the ship is from ended DECADES ago. Anacia please go send your fave Chris a letter, or send him a tweet telling him that show doesn't exist anymore and that he should stop loving the couple since it's inexistent. Poor Chris and his imaginary TV Show.

Chris is delusional too! Didn’t he also compare Klaine to them? But who cares because they don’t exist lolol. He’s crazy for liking them. How can we let him continue with his delusions?

The Signs as the Ugliest Ships
  • aries: bellarke
  • taurus: karamel
  • gemini: bughead
  • cancer: skyeward
  • leo: reylo
  • virgo: finchel
  • libra: snowbarry
  • scorpio: chair
  • sagittarius: vauseman
  • capricorn: captain swan
  • aquarius: klaine
  • pisces: snermione

Radio earlier today played Pink’s version of “Perfect.”


Originally posted by haidaspicciare


Originally posted by klaine-is-good

Originally posted by na-page

Originally posted by na-page

Originally posted by klaine-is-good

It was…I don’t know if you could call it love, what we had. I don’t know if we ever stopped fighting long enough to call it anything but a bad idea. But…it was kind of magic. Whatever it was, it was magic.
—  from an unfinished story #849

“Prompt: What if Blaine is a vampire who feeds off of life force via kisses, and then he kisses Kurt and Kurt is basically unaffected by Blaine?” (Note: The what of what Blaine is was inspired in no small part by Lamia and the Velvets from Neverwhere. You don’t have to know about them but I feel like I should own the inspiration.) ~2.7k words, warnings for vampirism and death, I suppose, though no one you care about actually dies? Meet cute, after a fashion!

Blaine meets Kurt on a train. It’s late, so late it’s almost early, and Blaine is sitting quietly in an almost entirely unoccupied car, tucking his fingers into his armpits as he wills his body to use what little energy he has more wisely, more slowly. It’s futile, though. His fingertips are turning grey, and soon the grey will go black. He sighs, and his breath mists around him. He needs to feed, needs to top up the energy his body doesn’t - can’t - create on its own. It’s why he’s still above when most of his kind have disappeared into the tunnels and secret places that exist below the city. He’s been in clubs and bars all night, trying to find the perfect target. Someone young and lithe and beautifully alive, but it has been futile. His dead fingertips and the sluggish thump of his heart are testament to that.

“It’s cold,” a voice says, somewhere to his left. He looks up and around, and finds a pair of eyes that shine like ice, blue and clear and piercing.

“Sorry?” he replies, and the owner of the voice stands and moves down the carriage, closer to him. Blaine watches him warily as he sits in the seat directly opposite him. He pulls fingerless gloves from the pocket of his bag, tugs them up over his hands and then rearranges the cuffs of his peacoat.

“It’s cold down here tonight,” the man repeats, his voice reminiscent of somewhere else. Not a native, Blaine thinks. Maybe there’s no one who will miss him? But no - he’s dressed impeccably, the fabric of his pants is expensive and Blaine recognises the brand of his bag. Someone loves him. Someone would notice if he didn’t come home -

Blaine finds himself staring at a gloved hand. “I’m Kurt,” the man says, and Blaine responds on auto pilot.

“Blaine,” he says, too slow to formulate his usual lies. Something about the man in front of him inspires his honesty, anyway. He doesn’t take the proffered hand, though, and he doesn’t say anything more. He just stares at Kurt, and wonders whether Kurt would share a kiss. Just the little he would get from a kiss. Enough to restore the colour to his hands. He’s kissed a lot of boys, he knows where to stop, how much is enough. He just wants to keep hearing the thump of his heart, to see his hands go from grey to pink as his blood flows through them.

Kurt, in turn, studies him. He is quiet, and his neck is long. Blaine imagines pressing his warm lips to the hinge of his jaw sometime. He lowers his gaze to the floor, pushes the thought away. The men he kisses always say yes when he asks, and Kurt is a stranger on a train.

And then Kurt moves to sit beside him, his thigh pressing long and warm against Blaine’s own. “I know what you are,” he whispers, and Blaine looks up at him and blinks.

“What I am?” Blaine asks, and Kurt nods, turns the corners of his mouth up in a smile.

“You can kiss me,” he says quietly, and Blaine doesn’t need to ask permission again. He’s starving but he still moves with a speed that the decaying state of his body belies. He presses his mouth to Kurt’s, plans to take enough to leave Kurt alive but Kurt tastes sweet and strong, and so he keeps taking and taking instead. In his chest, the thump of his heart growing louder and faster, his body warming in ways he doesn’t remember it feeling in far too long, and still he keeps his mouth pressed to Kurt’s, swallowing him in long desperate gulps. He kisses Kurt deep and hard, and only pulls away when he realises that Kurt is kissing him back, his hands tangling in Blaine’s coat and cracking through the gel in his hair, strong and just as hungry as he is. Blaine pulls away and stares down into the bright blue of Kurt’s eyes, and Kurt smiles.

“Usually I’d suggest dinner,” he quips, and then, “Funny. Is it warmer now? It feels warmer.”

Blaine sits back in the seat beside him, and stares at his hands, the pink flushing through them warming his skin to its natural tan. “What are you?” he asks, and Kurt’s lips quirk up into a smile.

“Different?” he suggest, and then, “Better?”

Blaine doesn’t say anything further. He sits with his hands in his lap, and stares at the stations as they pass. Kurt says, eventually, “This is me,” and collects his bag and his gloves. He glances back at Blaine as he steps off of the train.

“I know,” he says, softly. “I’m serious. I know what you are. You can always find me here. If you need me.”

And he’s gone, the doors closing behind him. Blaine listens to the sound of his heart thumping in his chest, and leaves the train silently in the dark of the tunnels, heading further down, further beneath, into the places where he is known.

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so I love my mom and she says some of the best stuff ever but one of my favorite things she’s done is stop watching g/lee like a minute into episode 4x05 because B/laine sang hopelessly devoted and she was like “he cheated on him that’s not hopelessly devoted” and turned off the tv and stopped watching g/lee from that moment out lol

i was gonna let this go but i just wann akno… why do people hate blaine SO VIOLENTLY ??? like did this person not see how OOC blaine was in that episode?? or how in the end blaine explained why he felt the way he felt. just bc yer partner does something not good it doesn’t make the relationship unhealthy. blaine was able 2 speak to kurt about it, that’s what ppl in a healthy relationship dO.

blaine could never be anything else but kurt’s perfect mentor to these losers LOL


The office health check-up doesn’t quite go as envisioned but at least Kurt finally learns more about his co-worker’s relationship status.

A/N: This is the original Klaine-as-Vogue-Interns oneshot I mentioned at the end of my Klaine Advent Vogue Verse! :) The two fics are completely different except for being set in a verse where Kurt and Blaine both intern at Vogue.com.

beta’ed by @a-simple-rainbow who saves my fics from being scientifically inaccurate ;)

Rating: PG

Read on AO3

“Alright, preppy interns, ready for your health check-ups?” a voice says right behind Kurt’s ear, making him flinch and literally jump up from his desk chair.

Blaine has a similar reaction a desk away from him, though the person who approached him was much kinder, merely touching his shoulder to get his attention.

Still. Blaine is almost always so deep into his work that one could talk to him about aliens and dragons and whatnot, and he would nod and mumble, “Yeah, sounds great.”

And not just theoretically – it actually works. Kurt knows this because it’s his regular five-minute break entertainment.

“Wait, what health check-up?” Blaine asks, thankfully just as confused as Kurt.

The girl behind Blaine’s chair frowns. “The whole office is doing health check-ups today.”

“We just assumed that would just be for actual employees,” Kurt replies, trying to be kind. After all, she wasn’t the one who scared him half to death after all. “We’re just interns here.”

He spares a look at the other girl – and, yep, still scary. She has her hands on her hips and a piercing gaze, seemingly ready to roll her eyes at people 24/7.

And then she actually does roll her eyes at Kurt. “Interns have bodies, too, you know? Even Vogue interns. So, health check-up. Now. Deal with it.”

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