character: hunter clarington


Requested by fyeahtaylorp

You never cared for your weight. But no matter what you did, you just couldn’t lose it. So you joined the New Directions, figuring either dancing would burn some of the fat off, or you’ll just be in an environment that accepts everyone no matter what. You’ll be far from the first New Directions member who wasn’t skinny or curvy.

And now it was time for your first competition, and you’re very nervous. The New Directions would be going on last, thankfully, so you had time for a restroom break. But unfortunately, you got lost on the way back.

“Hey, what’s a cow doing back here?” you hear a male voice taunt. You whip around to glare at the source of the voice, sneering when you saw the Dalton Academy blazer.

“Hey!” a second Warbler exclaimed. You braced yourself for another comment about your weight. “Please only insult the competition’s talent. They’re so lacking in that department, we don’t even need to resort to remarks about appearance.”

The scolded teen sighed. “Alright, Hunter,” he conceded.

Hunter walked up to you. “Sorry about him. I’m Hunter Clarington, captain of the Warblers. And judging by your low-quality uniform, you must be from New Directions,” he said, sticking his chin up at the end, as if trying to show how superior he is.

“And here I thought you just said that you wanted insults to talent only,” you countered, crossing your arms over your chest with a glare.

“Picking out a good uniform is talent, too,” Hunter countered.

Two can play his game. “Tough talk from a showchoir who hasn’t changed their uniform since the sixties. No talent perhaps?” you taunted back.

Hunter looked more impressed and amused than anything. “Let me know when the New Directions decide to stop hiding voices behind instruments, then we can talk about talent.”

“Let me know when the Warblers can get a trophy without stealing it from us,” you shot back.

Hunter opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when he heard the applause of the audience. The first showchoir performing was done. “Gotta head out to the stage right now. And may the best showchoir win,” he said, giving a respectful nod, smile, and a wink before jogging over to the rest of his choir.

You watched him leave, cursing the fact thad a guy so arrogant could be so cute. And cursing the fact that you couldn’t watch him perform, since you had to be backstage with New Directions, ready to go on once the Warblers finished.


: c´mon Hunter talk to me..

Hunter: …. i hate you!

Sebastian. you know that this is ridiculous right?

Hunter: i can´t believe that you brought a DOG to our house.. thank´s to you Mr. Puss lives in danger now….

Sebastian; i can´t believe we´re having this conversation~

Hunter: it´s a DOG!!

Sebastian: i think your little Demon can deal with it


nothing special i know haha~

but better then all my angst stuff irght? ♥

AAAAAND~ if you WANT you can send me maaaaany~ ask´s ♥

Hunter decided to wear a plain blue shirt with gray jeans to their first date. He knew that the place was quite expensive, but last time he went, there was a lot of costumers wearing a shirt and shorts and basically just informal clothes. 

He smiled lightly as he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t believe that he found his soulmate in a school like this, and while he was really glad for that, he was still a bit scared about as he didn’t know how the real world would react about him dating a cat hybrid.

Under the cut are #24 photos that could be Kunter (Hunter/Kurt) requested by mismatchedclarington

We do not claim any of these photos as our own. Though some might be a little suggestive, overall the photohunt is safe for work. Please like/reblog if you found this hunt useful.

Keep reading

Sebastian has a habit of switching between English and French when he becomes most comfortable around people. The first time he told Hunter he loved him, it was by accident. ● One day, when he and Hunter are in the middle of a fight about something trivial and it is getting really heated, Sebastian just grabs Hunter by the lapels of his blazer and kisses him and whispers, “Je te aime, imbécile.” After which he storms off. They don’t talk about it for months.

Submitted by anonymous.