his life was all about kurt

Kurt was fairly quiet and introverted most of the time. Jeff was the opposite. He was very much full of life and had a lot to say.
He was somebody in love with experiencing everything. Within a very short time, he had all these famous old rock stars coming to his shows, which put a lot of pressure on him. People talked about his concerts the way they used to talk about Hendrix.
They’d sit there, wide-eyed, telling you stories about him. He definitely had an aura. It’s impossible to say what it is exactly a guy like that has, that is so attractive to other people. But he had more of it than anyone I had ever met.
—  Chris Cornell
X men pref. How they react when you go missing in action

featuring : Alex, Kurt, Peter, Jean and Scott

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The Gainer Sesh Part 1

*A sequel to The Fat Brother (Link)*

*Disclaimer* Fictional story. Intended for 18+ readers only. Smoking is bad for you.

One morning inside a garage, three 22 year old guys, Kurt, Darren and Campbell, are sitting in a circle.

“Yo guys” Darren, the ginger one, announced sheepishly as he took a hit.  “I’m gonna get some munchies.”

“Awesooome” blonde-haired Campbell said, extending the last syllable for a bit to long.

“There’s this box on the counter,” Darren kept talking even as he went to the kitchen in his parents’ house.

The heavy one, Kurt, took a quick hit and then asked quickly “What’s he talking about?” before exhaling.

“Must be nice living with mommy and daddy and not having to buy your own food” Campbell told him in a bored voice, drawing a line in pen through the maze on the back of a cereal box as he munched on some dry Coco Puffs.

“And here you are raiding the Bennett’s pantry” Kurt smirked at his friend as Darren came back with a brown box,  “What’s that?”

Darren opened the top flaps of the box.

“They’re cookies!” Darren proclaimed.  

The other two watched as the red haired one turned over the box to reveal one dozen chocolate chip cookies.

“I love chocolate chip,” Kurt started to salivate.  “But I can’t have that man I’m on a diet.”

“Ladies dig the dad bod anyway” Campbell said, snagging a cookie and biting into it.

The other guys laughed as a bit of chocolate covered his lips.

“Mmm, this is soooo good,” he declared, eyes lit up in culinary delight.

“Really?”  Darren asked, grabbing one for himself.  “I wonder where my parents got them.  Woah … this is the best cookie I’ve ever had. You sure you don’t want one, big guy?”

“I gotta leave” Kurt replied, trying to avoid eye contact with the box.  “I’ll have some later, don’t eat them all, okay?”

In fact, Kurt grabbed one as he headed out the door, and was glad he did as soon as his teeth sunk into the tasty treat. Afterwards however he felt guilty and despite his hunger pangs, resisted getting more food for breakfast. At 6’2” and 215 pounds, Kurt was definitely a bit chubby, but it was better than when his weight was north of 230. Kurt had always been skinny without too much muscle, carrying only 160 pounds for most of his young adult life. But due to some weird events 2 months ago, he had quickly ballooned up to obesity. Despite all this, because he was never naturally fat, he had managed to shed 15+ pounds.

The trio spent their day at work, occasionally licking their lips and thinking about the cookies at Darren’s house, totally unaware that they each carried 3 more pounds than they had when they awoke that morning.

They agreed to meet back in Darren’s garage at 5, and went to Little Caesars to grab 2 hot-and-readys.  Normally the time spent eating together would be full of conversation and good-natured teasing about Kurt’s weight.  All three, however, seemed a bit subdued as they ate their pizza.

Kurt broke the rather pensive post-meal silence.  

“Am I the only one who really wants another one of those cookies?” he asked.

“Shit I’m glad you brought it up” Darren replied.  “I’ve been thinking about those things all freaking day.  I don’t know what it is, it’s like I have to eat another one.”

“Yeah, same here,” Campbell concurred.  “Let’s break ‘em out.”

The cookies were brought to the table and each one reverently took one.  Quiet moans filled the kitchen as three sets of teeth sunk into the perfectly baked cookies, chocolate chips spurting out onto waiting tastebuds.

“So good,” Darren sighed.  

The conversation picked up, each guy back to his normal goofy self, talking about cars and college football.  They didn’t even realize that they were picking up another cookie until Campbell’s hand reached into the box to find it empty.

“Whoa,” he said, her tone turning serious.  “We just ate all the cookies.”

“What? No way!” Kurt denied, grabbing the box.  “Damn, they’re all gone.  I didn’t even realize it…”

Campbell placed one hand against the midsection of his Hawaiian shirt.  His stomach did feel uncomfortably round and a bit bloated, all evidence of cookie gluttony.

“Guys, we gotta be careful,” Darren warned.  “Good thing it was only a dozen”

“You’re right bro” Campbell agreed, his hand still lightly rubbing his overfull middle.  As much as he was loathe to admit it, though, he did find himself craving just one more.

That evening the boys ended up getting so buzzed they decided to just spend the night at Darren’s, with Kurt and Campbell sleeping in a sleeping bag in each corner of Darren’s room. One corner of their minds were still basking in the memory of those incredibly delicious cookies.  It was enough to keep them from realizing that each of their bodies was now 12 pounds heavier.

Kurt found it took a bit more effort to get his brother’s old 36’ jeans under his chunky ass, and there was definitely a greater feeling of relief when he undid the button.  A quick glance in the mirror was not enough to raise suspicions.  Kurt had shaggy brown hair, not a lot of muscle, blue eyes, and was thick all over.  At 6”2 and chubby 215 (when the day began), with most of his weight rounding his overfed gut, but also some fat chunking out his sagging chest, chunky legs, and wide ass.  He knew he had to be careful. He knew he was only a few pounds from transitioning from chubby and overweight to downright fat and obese.

Behind him, Darren grunted slightly and let out a sigh of relief as he undid the button on his jeans and pulled down the zipper.  At 5’11”, he had wavy red hair, blue eyes and very fair skin.  A strict gym regimen kept him at a toned and muscular 160.  He did his best to keep his pudgy youth a secret from others, the truth was that his metabolism wasn’t great so it was only by a strict diet and lots of time in the gym that he managed to keep his sexy slim figure.  With a very good looking face, he had gotten used to turning heads and wanted to keep it that way.

Lastly, Campbell struggled a bit to release the straining button on his shorts.  After stepping out of the shorts and undoing the front buttons of his Hawaiian shirt, he got visual confirmation of his bloated feeling.  His normally flat stomach pooched out slightly above his V line, a rather shocking sight on his usually slim frame.  The same height as Kurt, Campbell had never needed to worry about his weight.  He simply had a slim and toned build and it seemed that his weight had been pretty constant at 170 ever since he graduated from high school.  His laid back attitude, blonde hair, and piercing green eyes lent him a bit of a surfer look, and his thin waist and muscular pecs/arms certainly didn’t hurt.

All three climbed under their covers, closing their eyes and drifting off to sleep with a small voice in the back of their heads whispering, “More cookies…”

*******************
“You never said there was another box!” exclaimed Campbell.  

Neither of the other two replied as they all stood around the island counter, looking at the mysterious box that had seemingly appeared overnight.

“I-I-It wasn’t here last night,” Darren said incredulously, “My parents are supposed to be gone all week.”

They watched as Kurt slowly ripped open the seal and pulled the flaps open.

“More cookies,” he announced.  

The three guys gazed into the box, another dozen chocolate chip cookies staring back at them.

“Is that drool on your lip big guy?” Campbell asked, starting to laugh before his stomach unleashed a loud roar.

“Hungry much?” Darren smirked.  “Anyway, I have no idea how these got here.”

“Well … I dunno.  Does anyone really care that much?” Campbell asked, balling his fists to keep from reaching out and snagging one.

“Um, not really,” Kurt replied.  “I, uh, I need to take a leak.”

“Yeah, I gotta let the dog out,” Darren chimed in, his eyes straying back to the open box as he started walking down the hall.

Campbell left the kitchen right after the other two, but not before grabbing a cookie to take with him.

*******************

The guys ended up napping all morning, and by the time Darren said that he was going to shower and officially wake up for the day, only 6 cookies remained the box.

Kurt looked at Campbell as they both heard swearing coming from the upstairs bathroom.

“What’s going on?” Kurt asked, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“I dunno,” Campbell yawned.  “Sounds like he stubbed his toe or something.”

The sight that greeted them when they arrived at the bathroom served to rouse them from their stupor.  There, standing on the scale in just a very tight pair of boxers, was a very upset Darren.

“I gained 24 pounds!” he shouted.  “184! I was 160 last time I weighed myself on Monday! How the hell does that happen?!”

“I’m sure the scale’s just broken,” Campbell said, but even as the words left his mouth he realized he was wrong.

A good look at his bud revealed that Darren was indeed looking heavier, about 24 pounds worth.  His cheeks had developed dimples and his neck was thicker. His boxers strained against his butt which rounded out way past his back, his blown-out thighs wider and rounder, filling out the legs of the boxer shorts completely.  Instead of flat abs, a frat-boyish gut was oozing over the stretched waistband.

“It’s the fucking cookies!” Kurt exclaimed.  

“Yeah, that must be it,” Campbell agreed, feeling excited that they had figured it out before he began to look down.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, with a look of horror in his fuller cheeks and feeling butterflies in the pit of his stomach.  

Kurt and Darren turned towards their friend. Campbell’s small t-shirt and boxer shorts hid nothing.  An even rounder belly with a thin happy trail and deep navel poked out of the 3” gap between the hem of the shirt and the waistband of the boxers.  He gently prodded his pudgy stomach in wonder, hands slowly sliding up to feel his softer pecs.

Kurt’s large fat stomach jiggled as lifted up his T-shirt and walked to the scale to join Campbell in inspecting the damage.  Since he was already big all over, his fatter stomach didn’t seem so out of place, but the overhang that was present a few weeks ago had returned. Substantial love handles popped out from his sides and oozed over the waistband of his tight boxers. His butt was huge and round enough to make any black woman jealous. As the screen lit up and flashed, Kurt lowered his arms to his sides. His T shirt remained in place, held up by his large moobs. The numbers 239 appeared on the screen.

“239,” he told them.  “24 pounds.  8 cookies.”

“Could it really be the cookies?” Darren wondered out loud.  “I mean, I ate like … 8 I think.  4 each day.”

Campbell approached the scale with trepidation, simply nodding to confirm his own gain when the scaled flashed “194” at him.

Then they all looked at each other, as if each had an identical thought. Running back down the hall, glancing at each other’s figures and noticing all jiggling that took place as they ran, they ventured to the kitchen.

They stopped in their track when an identical box could be seen on the counter once again.

“What do we do?” Darren whimpered, right hand cupping his chubby gut.

“I… I don’t know,” Kurt said.  “Should we open it to make sure…?”

His voice trailed off, even to his ears it was a pathetic attempt to simply get the cookies in his belly.  Maybe it was because the new pounds seemed to be messing with his appetite, but all he could think about was eating more cookies.

“Well, we should probably find out for sure if it is the cookies,” Campbell suggested.

“No shit it’s the cookies,” Darren snapped.  “And how do you suggest we ‘find out’, anyways?”

“Well, one of us could stand on the scale while we eat a cookie.”

“Not me, I’m fat enough already” Kurt backed away.

Campbell took a deep breath.  “I’ll take one for the team.”

A few minutes later the box was open and Campbell stood on the scale to get a baseline reading.

“Alright, we’ve weighed you three times and you’ve been 194 each time,” Kurt announced.  

Campbell stepped off the scale and took a cookie from the box.  As much as he was terrified by the thought of getting chubby, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the tingling sensation that warmed his body as she bit into the cookie.  As soon as it was gone, the pudgy blonde stepped back onto the scale.

“197,” Kurt read out loud, her eyes widening as he looked at Campbell’s tubby gut.  “So what do we do now?”

Campbell shrugged and grabbed another cookie.  “Well, I think we just gotta be very careful.  I don’t know who’s behind this, but I think it’s someone who has it out for us.”

“Maybe we can get a sample sent to a lab to see what’s in it,” Kurt mumbled through a mouthful of baked good.

“Mm-hmm,” Darren agreed, licking some chocolate off of his lips.  “Kurt should get us some clothes that will fit and then we’ll look for a lab to test it.”

“Sounds good,” Campbell said, small double chin visible as he chewed and then swallowed the last bite.  “I’ll just bag one of these… uh-oh.”

“Wait… is that box empty?” Kurt asked, a sprinkling of crumbs on his moobs.

“Did we just eat all those cookies?!” Darren screamed, eyes bugging out.

Campbell stepped back onto the scale.

206.

*To be continued*

okay y'all, i know you guys don’t really seem to like the new heathers tv show that much yet, but I would like you guys to consider what this show could possibly hold for the heathers universe!

• Heather C could have a full backstory, showing her family life as well as the reasons why she acts the way she does, maybe even a redemption arc!

• Heather M might struggle with her attraction to girls and discover more about herself + sexuality

• Heather D could finally be more than just bulimia and a red hair band! we could know finally more about who he is, and what kind of life he lives!

• JD might have an accurate portrayal of mental illness + abusive homelife, with his character slowly descending into a more chaotic mindset as the show goes on, not just having him reduced to “Psycho Trenchcoat Kid”

• Veronica might deal with some mental illness herself, and she hopefully won’t be the stereotypical white blonde female protagonist who doesn’t get consequences to her actions

• Betty. Finn. Finally. Having. A. Full. Character. Brings. Me. So. Much. Life. Since we didn’t get to know much about the movie Betty, seeing what the directors make Betty become will be very exciting for me.

• Kurt and Ram being “modern” high school assholes who get away with all sorts of shit because they’re on the football team, but they eventually get caught.

i know that this show isn’t the heathers we all know and love, but i encourage you guys to give this show a chance. I know a lot (maybe all) of my ideas won’t be in the show, but they are possibilities for what it could be. we won’t know anything until we can watch a couple episodes and then decide for ourselves wether or not it’s a good show.

Klaine one-shot - “The Singles Test” (Rated PG13)

Blaine has wanted to ask Kurt out since the day Kurt was hired at Vogue. He even set a goal date - by the end of summer. Now that day is here, and he’s not ready. Not only is he insecure, he doesn’t even know if Kurt is single. But he can’t avoid it because Tina knows, and Tina’s going to make sure Blaine asks Kurt out … even if it kills him. (2777 words)

Notes: Inspired by the video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8LS7Pxr3-g. Part of my new series I’m calling Buzzfeed Klaine - Klaine one-shots inspired by Buzzfeed videos. I’ve been working on it for months, and this is the first installment. This one-shot assumes that Blaine and Tina are friends from high school who don’t meet Kurt until they are hired on at Vogue in New York.

Read on AO3.

“Alright, Blainey! Today’s the day!”

“What day?” Blaine looks up from his phone as his best friend grabs him by the shoulders and steers him down the hallway. “What are you talking about?”

“Today is the day you ask Kurt Hummel out on a date.”

Blaine looks at Tina’s determined face, remaining remarkably calm as panic sets in between his eyes. “Wh-what? W-why would I do that?”

“Because the amazing Mr. Kurt Hummel is, like, the only thing you’ve talked about for the past three weeks. Since the second Isabelle hired the guy.”

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Life Quotes

2p America: “Who are you to judge the life I live?
I know I’m not perfect
-and I don’t live to be-
but before you start pointing fingers…
make sure you hands are clean!” ~Bob Marley

2p England: “A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.” ~Kurt Vonnegut

2p France: “Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.” ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

2p Canada: “I am free of all prejudice. I hate everyone equally. ” ~W.C. Fields

2p Russia: “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.” ~Robert Frost`

2p China: “We are all different. Don’t judge, understand instead.” ~Roy T. Bennett

2p Italy: “I’m sure the universe is full of intelligent life. It’s just been too intelligent to come here.” ~Arthur C. Clarke

2p S. Italy: “You’ve gotta dance like there’s nobody watching,
Love like you’ll never be hurt,
Sing like there’s nobody listening,
And live like it’s heaven on earth.” ~ William W. Purkey

2p Germany: “I don’t know the question, but sex is definitely the answer.” ~Woody Allen

2p Japan: “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.” ~Sun Tzu

2p Prussia: “Just when you think it can’t get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can’t get any better, it can.” ~Nicholas Sparks

2p Austria: “We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.” ~May Sarton

2p Hungary: “I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” ~Marilyn Monroe

Kurt and Ram Masterpost

Alright, sit the fuck down, cuz this is literally just all the bullshit character study crap I’ve done with these two cuties.  Seriously.  Stop saying these two have no character because they have a lot of it.

~ Appearance, musical.  Kurt has shaggy hair, a white shirt with red sleeves, and the jacket.  Ram has trimmed curly hair, a striped shirt, and the jacket.  Ram is taller, but Kurt has more muscle.

~ Appearance, movie.  Kurt has styled light brunette hair, brown eyes, a white shirt, and the jacket.  He is also seen sporting a jean jacket in the forest scene.  Ram has the same hair color, but his is shaggier/messier in the front.  Ram has blue eyes, a striped shirt, and the jacket.

~ In the movie, Ram has an established relationship with McNamara.  She invites Veronica to double date with her, convincing her to come along by saying that Ram has been sweeter since Chandler’s death, consoling her in her time of grief.  With this, we see that Ram might have a more human side to him.  That, and Kurt also relies heavily on Ram for dates with girls.

~ Continuing with the Ram might have some humanity topic.  He had no idea of the note that Chandler passed along.  When Martha showed up uninvited to his party, he didn’t kick her out or make her leave.  He told her that she was acting weird (which she was) and then showed disgust at the lack of alcohol she brought.

~ Football, bitches.  Kurt is a quarterback, Ram is a linebacker.  Kurt wears a cute leg thing.  I don’t know shit about football, but those are their positions.  Obviously means they’re athletic.

~ In the musical, Veronica reveals that Heather Chandler was the only one able to control them.  This means Kurt and Ram were not immune to the fear that Chandler struck in most of the student body.  They were just as much her minions as McNamara and Duke.  Also evidenced by Ram going over to try and deliver the note to Martha.  (Gross, vag talk.)

~ As if it wasn’t obvious, Kurt and Ram are very vain people.  Evidenced by Kurt having no attraction to Veronica before she gets her makeover, and suddenly wanting to fuck her afterward.  Ram also calls Martha a lardass.  Not really to do with being vain, but just like most stereotypical guy characters, they show an obvious disgust for the female body as we see when Chandler says that Martha wanted advice from her gyno.

~ Kurt is smarter than Ram, as Veronica states in Beautiful.  This leads me to believe that no matter how codependent they are, Kurt is kind of the leader.  I also think this because in one of the OG cast bootlegs, Kurt explains that he’d be the meat in the ‘Heather, Veronica sandwich,’ and Ram says he’d be the ‘Pickle on the side working the video camera.’

~ Ram thinks Bo Diddley is hot.

~ Kurt and Ram cannot beat J.D. in a fight, even when working together.

~ Kurt and Ram’s dads are at the very least emotionally abusive as seen in the scene before Big Fun.  Upon calling his father dude, Kurt is held by their dads and verbally harassed/humiliated.  Then after they throw him to the ground, they yell at Ram and scare him into flinching/falling back.  

~ Kurt and Ram’s dads say, “Hold his arms,” and, “Punch it in,” which leads me to believe that Kurt and Ram learned most of their behavior from their fathers.

~ At their funeral, Ram’s dad is the one to accept them being gay first.  Of course, this brings me to another point many people seem to forget.  Kurt and Ram were not gay.  And them being “gay” is the only reason anyone really cared that they died.  No one was sad about their death, and instead turned their death into a movement for equal rights.

~ Not really character stuff, but Kurt tried to dance with Ram during Big Fun and Ram shoved him away.

~ The two of them aren’t good guys when they’re wasted.  They force themselves onto girls as seen with Ram with Duke during Big Fun, and the both of them with Veronica during Blue.

~ Speaking of Blue, Kurt and Ram are very easily tricked seeing as they aren’t all that smart.  Toss them some booze and you can tame the beasts.

~ Blue Reprise.  Let’s talk about this real quick.  Kurt and Ram told everyone that Veronica went down on them even though she didn’t.  Dick move on their part, I’ll admit it.  But no one ever thinks of the reason why they did it.  Most likely they were hurt and embarrassed after being rejected, and lashed out because of that.  Doesn’t excuse it, but I think that’s probably why they did it.

~ There’s no happy ending here, fuckers.  Kurt and Ram get super hyped to get with Veronica, and then that’s about it.  Ram’s last moments are of joy, while Kurt wasn’t so lucky.  He saw his best friend die, felt panic and confusion as he ran for his life, and then it was all over.  Hey, at least as ghosts they’re still goofy and energetic, right?  

Crime Documentary List

I am a giant movie nerd, and I especially love documentaries. I have recommended a few of my favorite documentaries before, but I have recently been inspired to make a rather exhaustive list of my favorite crime documentaries that are available on Netflix. This list is for movies that are available on Netflix in the U.S. - I’m not sure which of them are available in other countries. Please reblog or comment on this post if you have recommendations!

*cracks knuckles* Alright…

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Klaine one-shot - “A Cheesy Proposal” (Rated PG)

Kurt and Blaine are shopping for cheese for their first ever official dinner party in their brand new apartment, when something unexpected happens in the middle of the dairy aisle that not only changes their party plans, but their lives. (1383 words)

Just fluff. Inspired by the post http://ship-to-w-r-e-c-k.tumblr.com/post/164380618454 and assumes that Blaine moves to New York to live in the loft with Kurt after he graduates from high school, but that his proposal at Dalton or his relationship with Karofsky never happened.

Read on AO3.

“So, we have cheddar …”

“Check.”

“Monterey jack.”

“Check.”

Pepper jack.”

“Check,” Blaine answers, moving food items from one end of the shopping cart to the other as Kurt names them off his mental shopping list.

“Blue, goat, and gouda.”

“Check, check, and check.”

“Great. All we need is brie and crackers, and we’re all set.”

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Title: By Choice (Part One)
Word Count: 5.5K+
Pairing: Kurt Wagner x Female Reader
Summary: Kurt meets someone that makes him realize he’s the only one who can be in charge of his own life, and [Y/N] meets someone that makes her feel she’s the most special person in the world.  
Warnings: None except the tiniest mention of the origin of Kurt’s scars.
A/N: Oh man… this was supposed to be a 2K words story at most but I went overboard, like… really bad, and now I had to split it up in parts. It’s my first story here and I’m freaking out, because it’s a little all over the place. So, if you can tell me what you think about it it would be awesome! Also, English is my second language, so forgive me if I make mistakes (and point them out if you want to, I love learning). As the story progresses, it will include some headcanons [x x x] (or variations of them) that I sent to @shayara. Also, the summary isn’t just for Part One, it’s for the whole story.


It was no secret that Kurt Wagner’s life hadn’t been an easy one. As a child– even though there were many things he just couldn’t remember anymore– he had been despised by the community he should’ve been a part of, who believed him to be a demon that was supposed to be to feared. It hadn’t been easy to spend so much time hiding, terrified of what people would do to him if they ever found out where he was.

But hard as it had been– and by what he swore was the will of God– his life had been blessed by the circus. The circus was the biggest, most important part of Kurt’s life. In there, he found a family: people who accepted him and treated him as their equal. In the circus, he shone. He was The Incredible Nightcrawler, the best acrobat they had ever seen. People admired him and his unbelievable talent for acrobatics– even if they didn’t know that the way he looked on every performance wasn’t a costume, but his own flesh. And yet it didn’t matter, because to Kurt, hiding his true self was worth it when he saw the excited faces of the audience every time he performed.

However, it hadn’t been all good moments that would turn into happy memories. The scars he had inflicted on his own skin were a testament of that. 

One for every sin.

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Nothing To Prove

Nothing To Prove
Summary:
A short follow up to this but can be read separately. Kurt has a question to ask Jane before they move forward with a case.


The two agents had arrived almost thirty minutes ago with four briefcases. Each briefcase was stacked full of documents. And after going through the contents, making sure nothing was missing, the documents, files and reports now sat on the table in Patterson’s lab and the team stood around.

“Should we do this?” Hirst asked out loud and looked around her. They had decided they’d do this as team, side by side, like they’d been every step along the way until this point.

“Let’s do this,” Patterson said, reaching for the first file.

“Hold on,” Kurt’s voice interrupted her and they all turned to look at him. He was staring down, at the stack of documents closest to him, not looking at anyone else. And for a moment, he was silent, until he turned to Jane, who was standing right next to her. “Will you… I just… will you give us a minute?” he said, his eyes never leaving hers and he reached for her hand. They all looked back at him, confused, including Jane. “Just one minute,” he repeated and did not wait for a reply, he just headed to the door and pulled Jane with him.

“Kurt? What’s wrong?” Jane asked him when they were finally out of the lab, moving to the side, just away of the large windows.

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Clinging to This Hating Game 8/

or the @prompt-a-klainefic blog’s 2017 Reverse Bang

Link to the art by @datshitrandom

the prompt:

Kurt and Blaine couldn’t stand each other in high school, maybe one was a jock/cheerleader and the other a nerd/glee clubber. Or they were bitter rivals for competition solos if they were both in glee club. Now they both live in NY and their friends set them up on a blind date, not knowing they went to the same high school.

High School AU, Cheerio!Kurt, Jock!Blaine (we’re a bit past high school now, though)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings (for the story overall):  some bullying and homophobic language, teenage sex. None this chapter.
Word Count: ~5060 (this chapter)

AO3 link Chapter 8

On tumblr : Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7

Notes:

Here we go!

I am so so sorry about the delay between chapters. Real life just expanded into all my tiny reserved spaces and I had to make it go.

Grateful as always to @mshoneysucklepink for the beta and dragging me all the way here. There will be a tiny Epilogue, but it’s already written so I promise only a couple of days wait for that.

Thanks everyone! Hope you enjoy!

-

Chapter 8

Kurt blinked his eyes open and looked at the clock. It was almost two a.m. and Blaine Anderson was naked and sprawled across the right side of his bed. He didn’t even snore. Kurt sat up, almost wishing that he’d been drinking; at least then he’d be able to wonder how they got there.

He didn’t wonder though. Blaine had asked to stay, Kurt said yes. They had fallen to the bed a tangle of limbs and mouths and tongues, but adrenaline spikes and orgasms had drained them both, and the last thing Kurt remembered before falling asleep was Blaine’s arms around him as they both dozed off.

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Klaine fic - “Need for Speed” (Rated NC17)

Kurt Hummel moves from California to Lima after his dad’s heart attack causes them to lose their repair shop. Kurt leaves his prestigious performing arts school and any chance of moving to New York and getting into NYADA. His only other joy in life is custom tuning cars, but his father doesn’t approve. Things seem to get back on track when he joins the Dalton Crew as their mechanic, behind his father’s back. He’ll make the money he needs as long as he can put up with the unwanted attention of Sebastian Smythe. But, how will his dreams change after he meets the head of the McKinley Crew, Blaine Anderson, who decides that winning Kurt Hummel will be his next big challenge?

For those of you who don’t know, this is one of my first and, in my opinion, flagship fics, so I’m doing a little touch-up job on it in preparation for the sequel. I’ll be posting the revised chapters here one at a time to give everyone who wants the chance to re-read it and get re-acquainted with it. It is posted in its entirety on AO3 and FF.net, with the majority of the chapters revised, if you want to go that route, but if you guys could also spread this around, I would really appreciate it <3 The cover for this story was done by the incredible @freakingpotter so you guys should all go and give her some love because she hella deserves it :)

Chapter 1 (2772 words)

Kurt sat cross-legged on his bed, elbows propped on his knees, head in his hands. He felt like crying, and not just a calm, rejuvenating sob, but an all-out, throw-yourself-on-the-floor-kicking-your-legs-and-flailing-your-arms-while-you-wail-like-a-skewered-seal tantrum. He looked around at the worn cardboard boxes piled high in his room, each labeled accordingly - clothes, books, music, Vogue magazines, misc. - all waiting patiently to be unpacked and put away, but Kurt wanted none of it. Unpacking his things and settling in felt so permanent. It felt like giving in. Once he put his clothes in his closet and his books in the bookcase, it would all be real.

Setting his room up would mean he was staying.

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porlspeaches  asked:

Fics where Kurt or Blaine end up hurt and the other has to care for the other

Going For Broke by kyrakahn

What do you do when an enigmatic stranger buys you a beer and turns your life upside down? A certain stockbroker is about to find out exactly what it means to cut all losses.

Everyday by WhatIknew

A few days after their 2nd wedding anniversary, Kurt is in an accident and falls into a coma. Blaine struggles with the decision to let him go, and the night before they’re set to pull the plug, Kurt wakes up. One problem: He thinks it’s 2008 and that he is 14 years old. No New Directions, no Finn and Carole, and no Blaine. Blaine helps Kurt try to remember his old life while they consider starting a new one.

Heartsounds by Lavender_love000

When an unexpected ailment lands Kurt in the ICU, his and Blaine’s world is turned on its head. Together, they’re forced to navigate what “in sickness and in health” truly mean, and to try to come out better for it on the other side.  

Headway by @blaineydevon​

“The accident took a lot of things from Blaine, but it never touched his ability to love.” Snapshots of Kurt and Blaine’s life together, unconditionally loving each other despite dealing with lifelong consequences of a traumatic brain injury.

Chrysalis Verse by @flowerfan2

Just after graduating from NYU, a car accident puts Blaine into a coma. No one expects him to wake up. Almost three years later, Kurt sees a man in a wheelchair who couldn’t be anyone else. A story of love and new beginnings. Canon compliant through 6x11, then AU.

Author Spotlight: lilyvandersteen day 4

This is honestly one of the finest rec lists because it’s thematic. I couldn’t make all of the authors tag so have tried to list them in the tags too

Day 4: Recs!

Ooooh… I LOVE reccing fics! Only five, though? All right, then… 

I’ll try and stay off the beaten path for this. It would be easy enough to mention one of the classics by @anxioussquirrel, @chazzam​ , @mrscriss2012, @zavocado​, @missbeizy , @nadiacreek​, @heartsmadeofbooks​ or Rainjoy, but you already know and love those stories, so what’s the point?

1.      One of our fandom’s most original and imaginative writers is @sunshineoptimismandangels​. I love her stories. She can take an age-old trope and completely turn it upside down and inside out. I love her take on Kurt and Blaine, and she writes Cooper so well, too. The fic of hers I’m going to rec is Missing Pieces. I’m not going to spoil the plot for you. All I’ll say is that I’ve read and re-read this story countless times, and it never fails to move me. Absolute must-read!

Excerpt:

“Why did those men think we were gross?” he asked. “What did we do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kurt said, turning in his seat to face B. “We didn’t do anything wrong. Some people just don’t like to see two men together.”

“But… They were all men and together.”

“Yes, but they thought we were on a date, and they don’t like gay people.”

“They don’t like people just because they are gay?”

Kurt sighed. He hated that this was something B had to learn about the world. “Yes.”

“People are scared of things they don’t understand,” B said, remembering the words Kurt had told him before.

“Yeah, and sometimes people don’t want to understand.”

B was quiet for a moment and Kurt watched him closely, trying to determine what he was thinking. Slowly, a smile grew on B’s lips.

“They thought we were on a date?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and laughed. “That’s what you got from what just happened?”

B shrugged and smiled. “I don’t mind people thinking we were on a date.”

2.      I’m a fluff writer, and I also love to read fluff. Nothing brings me more joy than waking up to a new story by @hazelandglasz​, @whatstheproblembaby​, @a-simple-rainbow, @chatterboxrose​, @sir-pyllero​, @notthetoothfairy​, @skivvysupreme or @fablewriter . They never fail to make me smile and they improve my mood a thousand-fold. If you’re fever feeling blue, I encourage you to look up these authors on AO3 and read some of their offerings – it will make you feel happier in no time.

The piece of fluff I’m going to rec here, though, is a wonderful cross-over between Glee and Enchanted called That’s How You Know, and written by the lovely @afterthenovels . It’s still a WIP, but there’s more than enough of it to capture your attention, and there’s no cliffhanger that will make you count the days until we get the next chapter. And oh, I love this story SO much. Kurt and Blaine are so sweet and shy and oblivious, and they complement each other so well. *Happy sigh* Read it, you’ll LOVE it, that’s a guarantee.

Excerpt:

Blaine steps closer as quietly as he can, but Kurt doesn’t even stir, his eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks as he sleeps. He looks… younger. Less like a prince and more like a regular man.

“I guess you really were tired,” Blaine says quietly.

He unfolds the blanket in his arms and spreads it carefully over Kurt’s body, making sure it covers him from neck to toe. Kurt shifts in his sleep, huddling closer to the warmth and letting out a pleased hum, his lips curling into a small smile, and Blaine can’t help the smile that spreads over his own face.

His hair is a mess, he has no idea where his boyfriend is or why he missed their date tonight, his best friend is worried about his love life, and there’s a strange man sleeping on his couch, looking surprisingly at home for someone who’s clearly very far away from home.

Yeah. Maybe he can deal with all of this tomorrow.

3.      Much as I hate scary movies, I love to read scary stories once in a while. Ghosts and vampires and djinns and the like stirring up no end of trouble. I’m reading a delightfully eerie nail-biter right now called Callaway Place (also by @sunshineoptimismandangels), but the story I’m going to recommend here is All the Beautiful Pieces by @lady-divine-writes​. Once again, it’s a WIP, but I hope you won’t let that scare you off, because this story has everything to keep you spell-bound: a house with a dark past, voodoo magic, a protagonist with second sight, and a sweet love story between Kurt and Blaine, because of course they find each other and fall in love in spite of all the craziness surrounding them.

Excerpt:

Blaine slips a hand beneath the puppet’s shoulder and another behind his head, lifting him ever so gently and relocating him the final distance.

“Just a few more inches,” Blaine says in a soothing voice, “and we’ll wrap you up and put you in the box.” Blaine gazes at the puppet’s face, into his single good eye. He smiles wider as he lays the puppet on the blanket, but his hand beneath the puppet’s head starts to feel warm. It begins at a spot in the center of Blaine’s palm and radiates like a single ray of golden sunshine. It’s liquid heat, pouring into his veins, shooting out to his fingers, filling his body up like a cup of cocoa on a cold winter’s day.

His eyes are open, his mind awake, but the haze returns. It obscures his vision in a veil of white mist. It drifts in front of his eyes. He can only peek through in random spots where it thins, revealing shimmering images that disappear like the dreams you hold on to in those seconds right before you wake.

Can you feel that? Blaine hears his own voice whispering inside his head.

I do, another voice replies. It’s high and lilting, pure as silk and singing in his ears.

What does it feel like? 

It feels like…like summer all over my body…

Blaine laughs, pressing his lips to cool skin. “And what else?

A giggle answers him in that same musical voice. “It feels like…

The voice gasps, and Blaine feels his body tighten.

It feels like you, the voice whimpers breathlessly. “Everything is you…all around me…it’s you…

Blaine closes his eyes as the world collapses in on him. Behind his eyelids he can see another set of eyes gazing back at him – perfect blue eyes, patient blue eyes, loving blue eyes that shift to grey and glimmer like rare jewels. Quivering pink lips smile at him, part, and then whisper a single, blissfully choked-off word.

Blaine…

4.      I much admire writers who can make their readers laugh their heads off. So the fourth fic I’m going to recommend is a very funny one. In this category, honourable mentions go to @skivvysupreme’s Drunk Kurt fics, Sexy101 by Sweet Emii, Seduction & Straight For A Week by @Crazy4Klaine and When you read my mind by @alexwishington​. But the story I’m choosing to spotlight is called Teenage dreams and movie scenes, and it’s written by @saraklaine100​. Both Kurt and Blaine are famous in this fic, and Kurt has a huge crush on Blaine, so his best friends corner Blaine until he agrees to meet Kurt. Cue a very embarrassed Kurt, and an instantly smitten Blaine. This story is amazing. Guaranteed to cheer you up however blue you’re feeling.

Excerpt:

Kurt was working on autopilot. He had no conscious decision to outstretch his hand or the time to process it. He just stared at those hazel eyes he found so fascinating one moment and the next he could feel Blaine’s warm hand squeezing his own. He felt prickles all over his skin. Well, up until the moment James and Oliver clasped their hands and all but yelled “We now pronounce you Kurt Hummel and his teenage dream” and Kurt facepalmed at this, ripping his hand away from Blaine’s hold.

 

“Get the fuck out” Kurt hissed at his friends and they knew better than to stay. They patted Blaine’s shoulder like he’s an old friend, still smiling and he could swear he heard Sean say “Condoms are under the sink” before they left.

 

Kurt was still craning his face in his hands. “Please just leave” he said. “Just…Look, I’m gonna keep my face covered and you can just run away and you can pretend this never happened. Send me the bill from therapy. ”

5.      And of course my fic rec list wouldn’t be complete without a smutty fic rec. It’s so difficult to narrow this down to just one fic. Some authors you should definitely check out in this category are @dualwielding, @stellata, icedwhitemochas, flyblckbirdfly and rayychel infinity, but the fic I’m going to recommend is by @caramelcoffeeaddict. It’s called Desperate Times… and it’s absolutely smut-a-licious, but definitely more than just PWP. It’s a wonderful story, and I promise you that you will love it.

Excerpt:

Devon takes a few steps back, so he’s now standing in front of Angel, and starts teasing the removal of his pants; all while dancing seductively to the music. His fingers twist in the waistband of his pants and then he yanks hard, pulling the breakaway pants off, and throwing them at the wall behind Angel. He’s left in just a tight red thong that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Once again, Devon straddles Angel, hovering just above his lap. He stretches his arms above his head, crossing them at the wrists, and rolls his hips down, teasing Angel. Devon turns himself around, bending at the waist, showing off his ass. He cranes his head around to see Angel licking and biting his lips as he stares at Devon’s ass. Devon smirks, and then smacks his own ass once, before righting himself and winking at Angel.

Turning around to face Angel, Devon starts to play with the straps of his thong, giving Angel tiny glimpses of his cock. He straddles him once again, gyrating to the music. “Would you like to touch me, Angel?” Devon asks in a low, sultry voice.

Angel visibly gulps, lets out a shaky breath, and slowly nods his head.

more than meets the eye {blu}{spamano}

~Blu~


“Nobody dies a virgin—life fucks us all.”
-Kurt Cobain


The thing about Antonio, once he had his mind set on something, he didn’t stop. This was why Francis and Gilbert found themselves sitting up at six in the morning because Antonio was creating an elaborate plan on how to find Lovino.

Neither of the two was exactly happy about being woken up so early when Antonio didn’t have class and didn’t have work until the afternoon.

“I swear I’m going to chop your dick off for waking me up,” Gilbert muttered as he struggled to stay awake. It was one thing for Antonio to tell them his plan at breakfast. However, it was another thing for this idiot to wake them up, knowing well how they felt about it, and insist they magically find energy so that they could listen to his plan.

This wasn’t the worst part, no. Nor was it the fact that Antonio didn’t buy any coffee. No. The worst part of it all was the fact that this Spanish dork had made them stay up until one in the morning which meant they were running extremely low on energy.

“Antoine, you’re a sadist. Can we please go back to sleep,” Francis groaned as he struggled to stay awake.

“No. If I recall Francis, you scared him off. Now, let’s review the plan again and we’ll grab everything and set out to look for him,” he chirped in a voice so happy that it made both of his friends want to rip their lungs out.

“Toni, buddy…who the hell is up at this hour besides you?”

“Many people.”

“I’m going to strangle you in your sleep,” Gilbert threatened, eyes red not from the fact that he was albino. He was going to murder Antonio, chop his body up into separate pieces, throw his body parts into various parts of the Mediterranean, and when the police asked, he would tell them that Antonio had finally gone back to hell where he belonged.

Francis, on the other hand, wouldn’t be as extreme. Feeling instead he was going to shave Antonio bald, dye his skin blue, and shove a stick down his throat. If he was feeling like it, he would chop his fingers off and serve them with escargot. He was not in the mood for this.

How Antonio had the energy for this, they didn’t know. Suddenly, the desire to revive their mischief from when they were teenagers was not as appealing. If it meant losing hours of sleep, hell no.

“Did you get that Francis?”

Quickly jolting his head up, he looked at his friend, “Euh? What was that?”

Antonio sighed and shook his head, “I guess we have to review everything all over again.”

Francis and Gilbert never groaned louder in all their lives.

Francis bit his lip. He glanced over at his friend and stood up from his spot. While frustrated about being woken up without coffee, this wasn’t why he put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Toni, don’t you think you’re going at this all wrong?”

Gilbert froze in his spot and was wide awake for a moment. He shot a look at Francis, eyes wide while Antonio sat with his mouthing hanging open by just a bit.

Francis sighed lightly and moved closer to his friend, “I’m not saying this because I’m tired, Toni, I’m saying this as your friend. Maybe you’re approaching this wrong. He left for a reason and I think perhaps you’re going a little too big with this.”

Gilbert raised his brow. He was a little more awake now, “Uh, Francis, aren’t you the king of going big?” his arms were folded and his mouth clasped into a thin line.

Francis pursed his lips for a moment, his entire face scrunching up in confliction, “I know I am. I’m simply worried that maybe this isn’t something that needs a grand show. Some people like those apologies and others don’t. Something tells me that this little friend of Toni’s doesn’t quite appreciate grand shows. Something obviously upset him, so our job is to figure out what exactly it was that upset him.”

It was Antonio’s turn to seem to fill with a look of confliction. He crossed his legs together and hugged his arms across his chest. He gently scratched at his arm while biting his lip. This did not go unnoticed by Gilbert who gently reached to stop his scratching. He gently lowered Antonio’s arm and his face filled with great concern.

“Toni? What’s wrong,” he asked in a calm voice.

Antonio bit harder on his cheek and did not move his head up to the sound of his friend’s voice. Giving a false smile, he shook his head, “It’s nothing.”

Francis looked over at Gilbert and nodded gently. Francis put a hand on Antonio’s shoulder, “Toni, what’s eating at you?”

Antonio tried to keep the smile up despite the guilt eating away at him and he took a deep breath, “Did he say anything before he left?” his arms wrapped around his body tighter and his nails began to dig into his skin.

Gilbert removed Antonio’s hands gently once again and held them in his own hands. He looked up at Francis with a look that whispered a million words of curiosity and concern.

Francis cleared his throat, “Besides what I already told you, he did mention alcohol. He seemed bugged by it a little more than most people get. Did something happen before we came?”

The words sent rocks to the pit of Antonio’s stomach and he swallowed nervously, squeezing Gilbert’s hand tightly. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact Antonio was practically stabbing his hand.

He let go and curled up more, his legs drawn closer to the couch and his head hanging a bit low, “I’ve noticed that too. He went quiet the first time I mentioned you guys. Also, I may have had a bit of an overreaction at his place and-”

Francis looked a bit confused at first. What bugged him so much about alcohol? At the mention of the small overreaction, he looked at Gilbert with an extremely concerned face. Their friend did have the tendency to drink more than he should when his emotions spasmed.

Antonio coughed lightly, “We haven’t really talked about topics like that a lot, but I think he may have a valid reason for getting upset. I just don’t know what.”

While Gilbert massaged Antonio’s hand to relax him, Francis was the one who spoke, “Then that’s where you need to start. I’m guessing he saw the grand collection of alcohol and assumed you were hungover. Don’t go wandering the streets right now and don’t go searching for him, but wait. When you meet again, just have a calm chat with him and don’t do anything big. Talk and then explain the situation. Whatever his reason for being sensitive about alcohol, he’ll let you know. You have to understand that he has experienced something leaving him afraid of being put in a situation with alcohol, no matter the amount. Don’t pry at him, don’t ask, just let him get back to feeling comfortable around you and eventually everything will explain itself.”

Antonio took in every word that his friend said and nodded. Big plans were a no. Prying was a no. While he did want to know what exactly was upsetting Lovino, he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable. He would take Francis’ words to heart. It did make him feel a bit better along with Gilbert’s massaging.

That’s how they all fell asleep. Antonio in the middle, Francis leaning on his shoulder, and Gilbert laid on both of their laps still holding Antonio’s hand as if he were massaging it. It seemed that waking up early after staying up late was not the best idea.


Lovino had no intentions of calling Antonio back. Not only was he furious about having to walk home after being told to walk to Antonio’s house (which was nicer than his in many ways and it pissed him off), but he had found out that his lovely friend was an alcoholic (at least, that was what he was picking up) and he was not in the mood to deal with any more idiots in his life. Even if he was lonely.

It took all of his willpower not to pick up the phone with a number of times the idiotic meme-slut of a friend of his was calling. Eventually, his ring tone got annoying and it was Chiara Galiazzo; he loved Chiara Galiazzo

So, it was a miracle from the heavens when it stopped. In fact, Lovino started thanking the great Lord above.

He didn’t want to ignore Antonio, he just wasn’t comfortable around him at the moment. He didn’t plan to ignore him forever, he just needed a couple of days to relax and breathe. His paranoia and emotions got the best of him. He felt dramatic of all things.

Lovino felt like a little kid who threw a tantrum because essentially, that was what he had done. He could have handled it better. Simply because two important people in his life drank themselves to the point where they weren’t themselves didn’t mean Antonio would do that.

Plus, he was an artist. Many people he knew drank. Hell, he drank a bit occasionally. He was a cook! Wine was a common thing that he used! People drank! Just because someone drank didn’t mean that they were an alcoholic!

But, then there was the fact that he had seen it. Not just that extremely large collection of alcohol, but that time that Antonio downed glass after glass of wine. It put him off and he found himself irritated. It wasn’t that he condemned drinking, he simply condemned people drinking extreme amounts of alcohol. From what he had seen, it seemed that Antonio was drinking more than he needed and Lovino wasn’t okay with it. Drinking brought back bad memories and events that he wished that he could erase.

Normally, he didn’t care about people and their habits since he hardly spoke to many people. This was different though; he finally made a friend and he did not want to babysit that friend when it came to his drinking.

Maybe he was overreacting. Perhaps it was just something that would never happen again. After all, he had never seen Antonio drink much before that day.

He threw himself onto his couch and screamed into a pillow out of frustration. Life fucking sucked. Worse, it was early in the morning and he had class in a few hours.

His cat meowed and walked over, rubbing himself against Lovino’s loose arm. Moving slightly, he looked at his pet and sighed, “Pazzo, can you please stab me with a spatula and take me out of my misery?”

The cat obviously did not respond. Rather, he tilted his head and stared at his owner.

Lovino groaned and fell back into the pillow, “I just don’t want to have to babysit someone else only to find out that they don’t give two shits about getting better. I don’t need to waste any more time on useless sacks of rice that don’t know when to stop chugging down alcohol.”

Again, the cat did not respond.

Lovino only groaned louder and screamed a chain of long curses and buried his face deeper into his pillow. He had no answer. Friends sucked; they made you question things like this and want to fling yourself into the sun.

Or maybe that was just him.

His friends sucked.

He really didn’t know what to think anymore. He was honestly stressed about this. He didn’t mind if it was a casual drink and Antonio knew how to control himself, but the man hadn’t shown that to him and the anxiety inside of Lovino was beginning to build up.

He wasn’t around to ruin Antonio’s fun or his youth. Lovino just didn’t want to see another person lie between booze-tainted breaths. He was afraid—as much as he refused to say it. He could hear the screams all over again. He could feel the glass beneath his toes in the morning when he woke up to clean it because there was nobody else inside of the house. He could feel the hands around his wrist, yelling at him, throwing him to the floor without a care.

He could feel his tears pouring down his face while he covered his brother’s ears. He could feel the pain in his heart that slowly grew numb over time until soon the cries became a normal part of life and the glass shattering remained as another reminder of less money that they would have for that month.

Lovino was fine with people having an occasional drink most of the time. His problem came when it started becoming more frequent. After growing numb to many emotions from the neglect that came with alcohol, he always seemed to get paranoid whenever someone else drank.

Staring at his cat, he sighed. Looking at the clock, Lovino closed his eyes. The least that he could do was attempt to get at least an hour more of sleep before he had to head off to class.


Antonio did just as Francis had suggested and did not go through with elaborate attempts to try and talk to Lovino. While bumping into him on accident was a difficult thing to do considering he could not see when he was near, Antonio was still determined to find Lovino and talk with him.

Admittedly, it was difficult for him to try and forget about the fact that Lovino was upset about something that had to do with alcohol. He had no idea what was going on, but Francis was usually right with these sort of things, so he planned to just let things happen. That was if he even got the chance to find Lovino again.

He was walking to class and while he knew that Lovino also had class, he doubted he would take the same path that Antonio took after seeing how upset he seemed to have gotten. It was unlikely. Honestly, he respected what Francis said and would go through with it, but it did not change the fact that he was concerned that maybe he would no longer speak to Lovino and it was a terrifying thought to think about considering how attached that he was beginning to get towards Lovino. He stood by the crosswalk and waited to cross. Today was one of the few days that he was comfortable with taking his white cane out and tapping it. Although, he really should have used it more considering the fact he really couldn’t see.

Suddenly, Antonio felt a hand around his arm breaking him from his thought as he waited to cross the street. He furrowed his eyebrows. That did not feel like Gilbert’s wide and calloused hands or Francis’ delicate yet rough ones. It didn’t take long for him to realize what was happening.

“I can help you get across the street if-”

Antonio did his best not to seem as irritated as he felt inside. He knew that whoever this was meant well, but it didn’t change the fact that it irritated him a lot. He pulled his arm away and gave quite a forced smile, listening and feeling to make sure no cars were passing, “I’m fine. I can make my own way across the street.”

His tone must have come off as rude and perhaps a bit cocky because the person who had been attempting to help him now seemed to let out a sound of shock and offense. Antonio didn’t turn back to apologize mostly because he was running to get to class. Besides, that was something that would have bugged anyone in his position. He understood that the person, whoever they may be, was merely attempting to go through with a good deed, but asking before grabbing his arm would have led to a less irritable situation for him. He didn’t like feeling like he couldn’t do things by himself.

Since he had been in this situation before and knew the person had been planning on crossing the road as well, he had a good feeling that he was going to have a person demanding to know why he reacted the way that he reacted. Antonio was right, because the minute that he stepped onto the concrete, his arm was grabbed again. He didn’t pay attention to the faint smell of chocolate and spice.

The feeling of fire filled his body. It was like acid was being dropped on his arm. He pulled it back and tried to keep walking silently only giving a small “Don’t” to the mystery person.

“Look. If you don’t want to be around me anymore, just say it already! I’m not going to spend every moment of my life just trying to guess what is going on in your thick head!”

Antonio paused in realization. Oh, it was Lovino. He turned to where his voice had been coming from, “Lovino?”

“No, it’s Santa Claus. Who else is it going to be,” he retorted. By this point, Antonio was really not fazed by his sarcasm and attitude. It was simply another part of Lovino’s personality. Really, the sarcasm was a normal part of life now.

Giving a light chuckle, he rubbed his neck, “Sorry. I was just a bit irritated about someone assuming I needed help and grabbing me randomly. I’m not a fan of that.”

Lovino raised his brow lightly and folded his arms, “Yeah, I saw that. Well, I can understand not wanting to be touched randomly by a stranger, but the helping part?”

Antonio bit the inside of his cheek and gestured for Lovino to follow him so that he could continue walking to get to class on time, “It’s just—I hate the way people assume that because I am blind, that I need help. I understand wanting to help out, but if I’m not asking, I don’t think they should be touching me at all. It’s uncomfortable and it seems like I am being told I can’t do something as simple as cross the street. People mean well, but nobody likes being treated like they are unable to do simple tasks.”

When Lovino went silent, Antonio assumed he had made him mad. He didn’t really expect many people to understand. It’s hard to understand many things and the need to feel human by blind people is one of the hardest.

“I understand what you mean completely,” Lovino finally spoke breaking Antonio’s thoughts and counting. Granted, he was now holding onto Lovino’s arm as they walked to the campus. Funny, he hadn’t even realized that he did that. He was too focused on the fact that Lovino said he understood. He hadn’t expected that. Of course, it was different.

“I don’t know how it feels through your point of view, but I know what it feels like to be treated as an inferior,” he added quietly.

He stopped biting his cheek and his heart beat a little faster. He was surprised and actually a bit happy. It had been far too long since someone had been able to comprehend anything that went through his mind. Especially things like this.

He smelled the cheap food from the food court that told him he was on campus. One more road to cross. Interesting how he hadn’t even realized the slight tightening of his hold on Lovino or the fact that he had crossed four other roads. He had been lost in thought, silent, thinking about the fact that while it may not have been exactly what he was looking for in understanding, it was close enough to make him feel better about things.

Lovino cleared his throat and gently removed Antonio’s hand from his arm, “Alright, well, this is our split. I guess I’ll see you around or something.” His voice was a bit rough and hesitant.

Antonio took a step forward to start walking to get to his class, but paused and puffed his cheeks out, “Hey, Lovino? I’m sorry about what happened that day. I know that must have pissed you off a lot. Euh, if you still want to, maybe you could come over again later this evening so we can finally get to painting?” His voice was hopeful despite the slight sound of what seemed to be sadness that trickled in with his words.

Lovino had already taken a couple of steps to leave. He paused upon hearing the words. Anxiety clenched tightly in his chest and he felt his lungs close off for a moment as flashes of bad memories went by his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he thought for a moment and nodded, “Yeah. Just don’t have your weird friends over and I want zero drinking while you’re painting.”

He was aware that his demand might have been silly to Antonio and honestly, considering the amount of alcohol that he had seen, he had doubts about Antonio following through with it. So he was surprised when he heard a chirpy ‘okay’ come from Antonio before he left and continued making his way to class.

Lovino rolled his eyes slightly, wondering why he had bothered to talk to him, and continued his way to his own class.

If only he had been aware of the great joy that he had left in Antonio just by agreeing to continue with the painting session.


Francis and Gilbert had gotten kicked out by Antonio. This had surprised them by quite a bit really. However, they complied and left without much of an argument. Antonio was quite excited to get back to painting Lovino. He was especially glad that they had been able to push past the bump in the road.

Antonio wanted to call it a fight, but he didn’t feel that it was the correct term to describe this. A misunderstanding perhaps? Well, Lovino had reason to suspect what it seemed he had been suspecting. Whatever it was, Antonio was glad that they were moving on past this.

He was so happy in fact, that he actually cooked for once. He pulled out the cookbook that Gilbert had typed out in braille for him despite his protests and claims that he was fine—sometimes his friends were really great. He made some food that he had memorized by heart and something from the cookbook. He may have overcooked.

Yet, who could blame him? He had this friend who he without a doubt wanted to keep in his life and he was determined to make sure he didn’t do something stupid. It was a hard thing for Antonio to comprehend really. All of his life he had only had Gilbert and Francis. Lovino was the first person in a long time who he was allowing into his life easily. He was always so cautious with others even if he was polite.

The people in his neighborhood and his college thought him a show off most of the time or some sort of competition. A few complimented him, but even they seemed to only be interested in becoming holier than the crowd and Antonio rarely gave most a chance. It wasn’t their faults, they just didn’t know how to handle the mess that he had tangled himself in.

Then there was Lovino. Somehow, this random culinary student had intrigued him. Was it the fact that he was hit with reality when they met and treated like any other person? Was it the fact that it still continued?

Probably. It meant so much to him. The difficulty of wanting to be understood always strangled him. So he was allowing Lovino into his life and he wasn’t pressing down on the brakes for once. It felt nice. Oh, did it feel nice.

He didn’t feel disabled, he didn’t feel half-baked; he felt human.

As soon as the doorbell rang, Antonio bolted to the door to open it. He didn’t count his steps or think about where he was going so he ended up stumbling and hitting things. But that wasn’t his concern right now.

He opened the door and beamed, “Sorry! I was cooking!”

Lovino chuckled a bit and poked Antonio’s chest, “If I weren’t the one being painted, I would think you had already started. You’re a mess, dork.”

Antonio laughed, “Sorry! I just dropped stuff and didn’t bother to change since we were going to be getting messy anyway.”

Lovino arched his eyebrow and walked inside. Antonio’s house was really nice and neat. Never mind that, Antonio’s house was large. How did one college student afford all of this? He dressed like he came out of a trash can so Lovino was confused. Even now, Antonio was wearing a shirt with dabbing Squidward. Ugh, how could he wear such a thing? It was repulsive. Bringing his thoughts back, he closed the door behind him and folded his arms, “Yeah, don’t get me dirty. The one who actually cares about how he looks is wearing Armani.”

Antonio seemed a bit surprised, “Armani? That’s-”

“Expensive. I know. Which is why I am surprised I found it selling so cheap at a second-hand store. I’m may be poor, but I actually care about how I look. Plus, who turns down designer products when they’re really cheap?”

Antonio nodded, seemed fair enough. One time Francis had found some Gucci at the second-hand store. he bought it even if he didn’t need it; he did that a lot. Antonio really didn’t care much about the brand of his clothing. As long as he had something on his back that looked decent, he was fine. Although considering he was constantly wearing T-shirts with old memes on them, decent wasn’t the best word to use.

Lovino coughed, trying to break the silence, “Are your friends over? I smell—”

Antonio shook his head, “No. I thought we would probably get hungry while painting, before, after. So um—I made food. Hopefully, it doesn’t taste awful? I don’t know. Are you going to Gordon Ramsey my cooking skills?”

The comment actually made Lovino smile ephemerally. His lip twitched and he stifled laughter, “Yeah. Move it, stinky artist, the professional is here to judge your meal,”

Antonio took a step back and put a hand over his chest, “I’m shaking in my bunny slippers!”

Lovino gave a playful roll of the eyes and walked to the kitchen. He was surprised to find it so clean despite Antonio looking like he had been dragged through the mud. He walked over to where the food was set up on the counter. He looked over curiously and lifted the lid. He was taken back a bit by the wonderful smell.

Antonio walked over and smiled warmly, “Do you want to eat now or—”

Lovino shook his head. While the food smelled good, he had stuffed his face with cannoli and couldn’t eat anything at the moment, “Later. Let’s get to painting. Remember, if you get paint on me, I’ll castrate you and make a meal out of your thumbs.”

Antonio pouted slightly and gave a small whine, “Aw, but I like my thumbs.”

Lovino gave Antonio a playful hit to the shoulder and looked around once more. He felt a bit out of place in Antonio’ home despite the fact he was the one who dressed better. It was just the fact that he felt poor beside Antonio. He didn’t know what to think as he looked around. As dumb as it was, he had assumed that Antonio lived in a crappy apartment just like he did and not this beautiful house. Although, it was dark. Really dark.

He must have gone silent for too long, because Antonio broke the silence, “Lovino? You still there?”

Lovino shook his head to bring himself back and cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let’s head off then. Lead the way, loser.”

Antonio gave him a bright smile and reached for Lovino’s arm. He pulled him upstairs, only realizing that Lovino couldn’t see after he had already tripped over the thing and hit his head on a lamp. In his defense, getting a blind man to remember that other people needed light to see was difficult when he had very few friends.

Lovino couldn’t argue with that.

While getting to his studio was an interesting experience, that wasn’t the part that stuck with both parties. What stuck with them was painting itself.

Lovino looked up curiously as Antonio had him sitting and posed perfectly. He was amazed at how well organized everything was. Every color was put in the correct order. This confused him at first and then he realized that Antonio had labeled the paint jars with braille. Was that how he chose—when he decided to dress like an actual adult—his clothes and was able to make them match?

Antonio didn’t seem to notice Lovino spacing out because he continued to adjust Lovino and then adjust his tools until he was ready. Each touch was gentle, just like it had been the time before. While Antonio collected every detail that he could from feeling around Lovino’s face. Fingers grazed gently over his skin while the over hand took the new information and began to place it on the canvas.

He liked Lovino’s face. It was soft and it made him smile when he thought about the fact that Lovino tried to pass off as someone who looked completely different. Right now, he could capture every detail about him and he could feel someone that he cared about.

Antonio was amazed for reasons he had yet to comprehend. Even though he had absorbed almost every detail of where his hand currently was, he did not move it for he was joyous in simply knowing. The fact that he knew that Lovino was here and that they could move past the negativity made his heart swell. With each second that he continued to take in who he was, Antonio felt his heart beat fast. He wanted to just touch Lovino’s face all day, even when he wasn’t painting. While his mind was everywhere, his face was serious still. There was not a single change in his facial expression. Therefore, Lovino would not be able to see the way he was truly acting.

He seemed focused and while he hummed and spoke to Lovino, it was clear he was much more serious and dedicated to what he was doing at the moment. Lovino found it fascinating. Yet, not as fascinating as the feeling of Antonio’s hand on his face.

Truth be told, Lovino had never allowed anyone to touch him, even if it was a hug unless it was family (he often still was reluctant). Alfred had been an exception, but they had been dating so it made sense. Alfred’s touch had been much different than Antonio’s current one. Alfred was more a quick touch that lit small fires everywhere while Antonio’s slowly burned and took over every part of him piece by piece. At the thought of his late-boyfriend, he went a bit out of it. His focus changed from the delicate yet callused hands that were taking in every detail about him to the blonde who loved fast-food.

Kisses lingered on his lips and the taste of milkshakes ran through his mind again. It was strange to think that even now he still thought about Alfred at weird times. Reminders of dates to the beach, kisses to glass cuts, and delicate whispers from someone who was loud in everything that he did.

It hurt Lovino and he felt guilty thinking about Alfred while Antonio was painting him. He started to shake a bit, memories flooding too quickly for him. Tears that fell with a phone after receiving results that he wished Alfred had not gotten. Screams and prayers to God. Sweet milkshake kisses that slowly turned to salt and soon ice. A bright smile, blue eyes, laughter that faded. Energetic Alfred slowly losing that energy. Sky blue eyes that turned to a stormy blue and then grey. Sweet milkshake lips that were welcoming once slipping to ice cold ones. A laughter that went from the best thing in his life to tears that fell and one last plea to God for survival.

And a beautiful suit that he once adored seeing that turned into a cold reminder that he was gone. A beautiful suit tailored and matched with those sky blue eyes that went down with him.

Lovino didn’t even realize he was crying. He didn’t realize that Antonio stopped painting and held him close. He didn’t even realize when he wrapped his own arms around Antonio and clung to him as if his life depended on it. He felt silly. One little thought was all that it took and he was sobbing just as badly as he had sobbed the day he had gotten the news.

He expected Antonio to try and pry at him. He expected him to ask a million questions and make the tears pour down faster as more memories poured out.

But he didn’t.

Antonio didn’t do anything. He held Lovino in his arms and hummed softly—every few moments he would speak and tell Lovino it was okay and to cry it all out. He didn’t get it; why did Antonio do this? How could he do this? How could he just hug someone, not ask what was wrong, and still manage to make the sorrowful weight slowly lift up?

He didn’t know, but at the moment, he was thankful for Antonio. He wanted him in his life. As much as he didn’t agree with him in certain things, he needed him. He clung to Antonio, tears, and sniffs still coming. After a while, he managed to calm down which meant Antonio was finally speaking again.

He still didn’t ask.

Antonio wiped Lovino’s tears and pushed his hair back, “Let’s take a break. Come on, we’ll eat.”

Normally, Lovino would have protested, but after that much crying, he did need some food.

Oh, how he felt pathetic. Here Antonio was, caring about him and painting him—yet, all that Lovino could do was cry about someone who wasn’t even alive anymore. The worst part that it was when he was with Antonio and it just made him feel like a pathetic, weak, needy friend with no control over his emotions.

He stood up and looked at whatever progress Antonio could have made before he decided to break down in tears. To his surprise, it was a lot, and Lovino looked at it in amazement. It was quite texturized, but that didn’t change the detail in it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by clacking on something and then the sound of paper tearing. He looked over to where Antonio was and saw him pinning the paper to the painting. Was it a note? He didn’t know. He didn’t ask.

Antonio did know however, he was simply writing himself a nice note that reminded him of what he was doing and where he was currently in progress as well as the color mixture that he was using for the outline of Lovino’s face. Of course, how could Lovino know that? He had typed the note out in braille.

He thanked God for those magnificent machines that made his life a little easier when he was in a lecture or needed to write something down. As soon as he had pinned it down and put his paintbrush in his water jar, he moved his hand in search for Lovino’s arm. He grabbed onto it loosely and stood up.

“Come on, we should get downstairs then. Francis and Gilbert will be here in a couple hours and you don’t seem to like them very much,” he gave a light laugh as he walked with Lovino. his free hand was searching around him to make sure that he didn’t bump into things. As well as he knew his home, his art room was unpredictable with how much messier it was compared to the rest of the house.

He didn’t hear Lovino speak, so he didn’t say anything. While curious about what made Lovino cry so suddenly, he did not ask. As much as he was concerned, he wanted his friend to feel comfortable around him rather than feeling invaded.

Once they were downstairs was when Lovino spoke. His voice was quiet, “I’m sorry about that. It was stupid—”

Antonio shook his head, his lips pulling tighter and thinner, “No. In the time I have known you Lovino, you have not had a break down like that, not over silly things or small things like you say. It’s okay to cry, you know. Everyone needs to once in awhile. And whatever is going on in your head is obviously not stupid if it is affecting you like this.”

Lovino’s head fell onto Antonio’s shoulder and he sighed, “It really is stupid. I’ve been nothing but an emotional wreck this week. Why do you even bother trying to be my friend when all I do is overreact and let my emotions spike over stupid things?”

Antonio wrapped his arm around Lovino again and hugged him close, “I still don’t think it’s stupid. Do you want to talk about it?”

Lovino grumbled lightly and buried his face in Antonio’s shoulder, “It’s just—when you started touching my face while painting, it reminded me of the only other person I let touch my face like that.”

Antonio pursed his lips and nodded. So that’s what it was. It certainly wasn’t stupid. He felt a bit bad knowing this information now. Was he talking about an old girlfriend? It sent a slight pang to his heart and he didn’t know why, “I don’t have to paint you if you don’t want, Lovino.”

Shaking his head, he sighed, “No, I’m fine. I just—I need to let him go. He’s somewhere better and I haven’t done a good job accepting that. I’m working on it.”

Antonio’s heart swelled for a moment at the mention of 'him’. Did it make him a bad person for getting excited about the past person being a him while Lovino was confessing his pain? It sure made him feel like one. he needed to get back into focus.

“It’s alright. Things like that are hard. If you ever need a break, just tell me, okay? Come, let’s get you something to eat,” he smiled warmly and let go of Lovino so that he could lead him to the dining room, “And for the record, I love being your friend because you treat me like a human. Even today, you were willing to give me another chance after I messed up not because I’m blind and not out of pity, but because you thought I deserved a second chance. You’re great; I don’t know how you can’t see it.”

Lovino went silent and it would have concerned Antonio if he wasn’t already aware what words as simple as those did to Lovino.

“You are the cheesiest idiot I have ever met. Just serve the food already,” Lovino snapped. Antonio knew he didn’t mean harm. That’s how Lovino was. He had grown able to detect when he was actually irritated or angry and now wasn’t one of those times.

He was right; Lovino meant to harm. He was just flustered. All of his life he was used to getting insults rather than complements. The fact that Antonio cared and tried to bring him comfort after making assumptions without talking to him and breaking out in tears made him happier than anyone could ever possibly comprehend. He didn’t pry at him—he didn’t even ask about what had made him angry the first time. Lovino didn’t feel worthy of such a friendship.

It almost made him regret the gift he was keeping in his bag.

Antonio managed to snap Lovino out of his thoughts once he placed the somehow still warm food on plates. The aroma already made him drool. He sat down and watched as Antonio felt around for his own spot, “Please tell me I didn’t spill. Also, please don’t Gordon Ramsey my cooking.”

Lovino’s lips curved into a small smile and he let out an amused snort before shaking his head, “No, you didn’t spill. However, we will have to see about your cooking. I won’t allow nasty food to go past my lips.”

Lovino took a bite and sat there amazed for a moment. Whatever he was eating was spicy but also creamy. The texture was nice and oh did those spices mix well together, “I take it back. I take it all back. I praise you, you idiotic, dino-nugget eating, cheesy son of a bitch. This is good. Remind me again why you’re surviving off of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets?”

Antonio chuckled softly and took a bite of his food, “I’m glad it appeals to your refined taste. Also, we’re both in school. I doubt money is raining down on our lives.”

Lovino raised a brow in confusion. He was living in a place like this and was honestly trying to convince him that he was a broke college student as well?

“This house is an old house. If it weren’t for the fact that my entire family seemed to have owned this place, I would be in an apartment like yours.”

“That’s one way to call me a bum.”

Antonio choked on his food and stood up to try and apologize only to spill his water. Lovino laughed at him, of course. As he was trying to explain that he was joking, Antonio took too big of a step and hit his head on the plant dangling from the ceiling.

Eating was hardly done at all actually. Lovino and Antonio ended up on the couch, laughing while Antonio sipped a little wine. Although, Lovino didn’t eat much because while the food was delicious and he had wanted to eat more, the familiar feeling of nausea hit him and he didn’t eat in fear of having to excuse himself and have Antonio worry about him. While Lovino felt the uncomfortable jitters returning as he drank, he let Antonio have the little bit that he was currently drinking.

'It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s just a small drink’

His thoughts disappeared when Antonio started singing softly. Lovino turned and smiled as he saw the wine glass placed down on the coffee table while Antonio sang softly and beamed. There was a relaxed look on his face.

“It is strange that I talk to myself? Is it weird when I hear someone else? What do I do? There’s no more you,” his voice filled the room and Lovino lay back to listen to it. Antonio’s voice was deep, soothing, smooth, and alluring. Lovino could listen to it all day. His singing was such a nice sound and it made him feel like he was a kid listening to his mother sing to him.

He didn’t think about bad memories that came after that, he simply smiled and listened to Antonio. It didn’t matter when Antonio stopped singing because Lovino felt soothed. He looked at the time and shook the painter slightly, “As much as I would like to be lazy and sit here, I think we have a painting to finish.”

Antonio frowned slightly and sat up, “Are you sure?”

As much as he would love to continue to paint Lovino, he didn’t want to do anything to make him uncomfortable. He really cared about how he felt and would never push the boundaries that were set.

Lovino reached and gently nudged Antonio, “Yeah, I’m sure. Come on, dork. That painting won’t finish itself. It’s not a big deal.”

Antonio bit the inside of his cheek. While he was glad that Lovino wanted to continue, he didn’t want him brushing off things like that as nothing important when it was clear that whatever he was thinking about was disturbing him. He nodded and stood up, reaching for Lovino’s hand. He made a mental note to make sure to pay extra close attention so that if Lovino seemed to get uncomfortable or on the verge of breaking down, he could stop and suggest they do something else for the remaining time.

Upon grabbing Lovino’s hand, his friend flushed slightly as he was used to being grabbed by the arm and not such a direct thing as this. It was a bit much, wasn’t it?

It didn’t seem to matter to Antonio as he made his way back to the room where they had been hand-in-hand. Truth be told, he was growing more and more comfortable around Lovino the more they were around one another—arguments were obviously an exception. In his mind, he was acting no different around Lovino than usual. It seemed that for all of his skills with analyzing people and picking up on certain situations quickly, he did not do the same for himself—thus, he failed to distinguish his behavior as being anything strange.

Lovino—he chose not to see it. He was clearly capable of being able to understand that Antonio was beginning to desire him as more than a friend, but he failed to allow himself to do so.

In the end, it seemed that the two were blind in a friendship that had its difficulties which arose the question of if Lovino ignored things in fear of getting too close and being damaged or if Antonio was afraid to allow himself to love. Only God knew.

Antonio was humming softly as he set everything up as it had been before, “I’ll probably only paint you for an hour more. I’m sure we both have things we need to do.”

“Mhm. Well, I told you my schedule, so don’t start planning rap when I’m obviously busy.”

“Yes! I’ll send you a message later with times we can meet up and such. Thank you for still agreeing to do this,” he gave a shy smile as he picked up his paintbrush and reached for Lovino’s face so that he could carry on. However, he hesitated and bit his lip which confused Lovino.

Before he could ask what was going on in Antonio’s mind, he was interrupted, “Hey, today was actually pretty fun. Maybe, Thursday we could do something? Besides painting. This isn’t for school, so I have all of the time for that—but maybe we could go to the cultural festival and just kinda hang out,” he muttered the last bits nervously.

Lovino looked at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. He seemed a bit bashful. Although, he found it rather endearing because it meant he made Antonio nervous for whatever the reason be. It honestly gave him a bit of an ego boost. He nodded, his head still in Antonio’s hand, “Yeah, that sounds nice. We can head out after I finish my stuff then. Just don’t do anything stupid there or I’ll shove you into the river.”

At this, he laughed and nodded, “There go most of my plans then,” he joked before giving a playful grin, “I would never do anything stupid to embarrass my lovely muse~”

Lovino chuckled and muttered something along the lines of 'dumbass’ under his breath before Antonio started his soft music and began to paint again. This time, Lovino closed his eyes and let things happen. He didn’t think about Alfred—he just listened to the music and Antonio’s brush strokes.

Antonio on the other hand, he was having trouble focusing. While he had memorized each part of Lovino’s jaw and chin, he found himself unable to paint. He was much too mesmerized by the person that he was painting. He wanted to run his hands along every turn and every curve of Lovino’s face for no reason besides simply being able to.

Assuming that Lovino thought he was deep in thought about his next stroke, Antonio just held Lovino’s face. For the first time in years, he felt sorrow about being blind. Not mild sadness that stung bitterly and left after a bit—sorrow that broke his heart and made his mind fall grey. If he could only see one person in the entire world, he thought, it would be Lovino. Memorizing features and putting them together only did so much.

'This face—I will paint it a thousand times. Then I will draw it a thousand times more.’

He did paint, but it was very slow. Part of that reason being so that he would have an actual excuse for Lovino to come over more often.

Of course, eventually, Lovino had to leave. Antonio typed out another note, putting it on his canvas while also making sure that each pin was in place so that he could find his place again.

Taking Lovino’s hand once again, he walked him downstairs and to the door after making sure that he had not forgotten anything. He was still beaming like the ray of light that he was, “I look forward to Thursday.”

Lovino snorted, “You sound dramatic when you say it like that. Whatever, I’ll see you Thursday,” he let go of Antonio’s hand and turned to leave before letting out a small gasp, “Wait! I almost forgot. I got you something from the store. Thought that you could at least look decent in your hobo wardrobe.”

He placed a bag in Antonio’s hands and tried to conceal the smirk on his face. The shirt was actually a petty revenge shirt. As much as he was glad they were getting back to being good friends, he was petty and would not forgive entirely without the other person looking a little dumb for a bit.

Antonio actually was surprised and stood frozen for a moment. He was in a moment of disbelief. It vanished quickly and was replaced with a bright smile. He embraced Lovino tightly and laughed in great joy, “Thank you so much!”

Lovino may or may not have felt a slight amount of guilt for a moment.

“It’s whatever. You have no fashion sense so you obviously need some ugly shirt to go with that ugly closet,” he teased, “I really have to get going too. Smell you later, stinky chef.”

Antonio put a hand to his heart, “I am wounded, Lovino! Oh, woe! Betrayal,” he cried out dramatically before smiling a small smile and heading back inside once he was sure that Lovino was at the gate. He shut the door and hugged the bag close, throwing himself to the couch and laying there for a few minutes while planning on wearing the shirt that secretly said “Art VanHOE” on the front in big letters. That would certainly turn out to be an interesting experience for the two.

He was grateful to still have Lovino around and he was happy that he had a friend that joked and teased him freely. He was thankful that Lovino told him things as they were rather than sugarcoating words that would not benefit either of them. He was thankful that someone didn’t pity him and above all, Antonio was happy that he found someone that he wanted to paint day after day without stop.

Warmth grew in his heart and innocent Antonio with no idea for what he felt nor what the future held, was slowly throwing himself into a bed of roses; beauty that came with pain.


Haha! I am not dead yet! Although, school is killing me, my readers. You would think my sophomore year would be less stressful…Anyway, I’m hoping to get an actual schedule on these updates. Alright, a couple of things I want to state that are mentioned with Antonio’s painting style.

I based how he works off of a family friend of mine who did the same. He would place nine pins on the canvas to divide things easily (he could go “ah yes, I was painting on 3,2” and work from there. Sometimes extra pins were added to mark the exact spot. The braille typewriter was also a grand salvation to him! I thought that this would be an interesting thing to add in.

Also, a warning. Things are going to get a bit more touchy after this chapter. Check the warnings I put in the description. I really don’t want someone to feel uncomfortable with what is going to happen soon. I mean it when I say things are getting more touchy. We are entering the stage where you guys realize that this story is dealing with a lot of things that I feel need to be addressed.

That is all, leave a nice (or harsh) review, share the story, etc! I shall see you guys in the next update!

~ Lluvia Di'Noche

Klaine one-shot - “Judging Books by Covers” (Rated PG)

Kurt is running late for school, dropping into the only bookstore in the city that currently has a copy of the one book he’s been searching all over for. Unfortunately, it’s locked in the hands of a handsome man who doesn’t seem all that willing to give it up. (2222 words)

Notes: This is a re-write <3 Meet-cute.

Read on AO3.

“Uh … excuse, me. I’m sorry,” Kurt says, creeping up on the man draped over the single bookcase dedicated to musical theater at Unnameable Books – the section Kurt is currently trying to get to. Kurt did have something less polite in mind to say considering the man is blocking the entirety of a 5’ x 5’ section of shelving. Even if he is gorgeous and built like a CrossFit instructor trapped in the sensible wardrobe of a Harvard professor (eccentric curly hair and Wayfarer glasses included), that doesn’t excuse the fact that he’s keeping Kurt from the book that he’s been searching high and low for for months - impatiently so since he’s already running late for class. Unnameable Books might be only a train ride away from his loft in Bushwick, but it’s three trains and a bus away from NYADA. So Kurt really is in a rush, and this man’s presence is an extreme inconvenience.

Kurt was more than ready to say so - that is, until Kurt saw the book the man is reading.

Devouring is actually a better term for it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you have any good recs for government (senator, congressman) or president klaine? I've read (and reread) "all these places feel like home", "senator Blaine au" and the one where Blaine is president and can't get a date (who's name is escaping me). Still on the lookout for more!

Playing With Fire by @a-simple-rainbow

Blaine’s father is running for President of the USA. Kurt is a newly transferred student at Dalton Academy. Kurt’s father is also running for President. Blaine’s choice of doing what he wants or what’s right for his father’s career has just gotten a tad more complicated. “It’s their race, not ours. This shouldn’t matter to us. I don’t want it to.”

The President’s Son by @nineofhearts4

When Kurt is in 8th grade, Burt is elected President of the United States. Eventually, he decides to get a tumblr (despite an explicit ban on all social media accounts), where he meets Blaine, who has no idea that he has just met Kurt Hummel, son of President Hummel.

Kurt In Manhattan by lemonwhiskers

Based on the film Maid in Manhattan. Kurt is a single parent working in a hotel in New York. He meets politician Blaine Anderson and his life instantly changes. Sparks fly but will Kurt’s lies about his job ultimately destroy any connection they had?

The fluffy one where Blaine is President that you can’t think of is:

First Gentleman Material by Chatterboxrose

Blaine Anderson is the most powerful man in America; the freaking President of the United States. He can’t, however, get a boyfriend to save his life.

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: Fearlessly Day 2

We’re back for day 2 of Fearlessly’s SPOTLIGHT. Happy reading. 

Day 2: Recs!

It was really hard choosing the stories I wanted to recommend because all the fic in my catalogue are special to me for different reasons. And, I would like all of my stories to be read, so coming up with a list of only five was tough. Anyway, without further ado and in no particular order:

1. Anywhere You Want to Take Me - Series

I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) single out any particular story from this dom!Kurt / sub!Blaine series, so I am recommending the whole lot of them. Currently, there are ten instalments with many more to come. The thing I like most about this series is the dynamic between Kurt and Blaine. They are in an established relationship, very much equals, irrevocably in love, and really enjoy their playroom.

Inspiration

Inspiration has come from all the wonderful dom/sub fanfiction I have read. D/s is a favourite trope of mine, so naturally I wanted to try my hand at writing it, and found that I enjoy it very much.

Excerpt:

Kurt arrived in the loud and still very crowded club to find Blaine lying on top of the bar shirtless, with an array of women and men surrounding him. He had a wedge of lime in his mouth and a trail of salt from his navel to the low-rise waist of his pants. A pretty blonde was just about to lick the salt off when Kurt squeezed her shoulder and dragged her off of him. “Party’s over! Shoo!”

The crowd scattered reluctantly. Kurt’s eyes darkened as he looked down at the mess that was his husband. His chest was wet with saliva and alcohol. His curls were dishevelled and decorated with confetti, which would have been cute under different circumstances, his eyes were shiny and glazed over, and his pants had wet blotches from spilled alcohol… — taken from the sixth instalment, You and Me .

 2. The Road Not Taken

 his neighbours!Klaine story was written in response to a prompt in the Glee Prompt Meme and in correlation with Five Years of Klaine. What I like most about this story is the fact that neither Kurt nor Blaine is perfect. They make mistakes, but at the same time, won’t settle for less than what they really want – which is, each other.

Inspiration: Inspiration came from bird_in_a_cage’s fabulous prompt:

“Kurt moves into the apartment across from Blaine’s, and they are both immediately intrigued by each other. Trouble is Blaine got engaged just the week before Kurt’s arrival.”

I would also like to point out that she offered a “bonus for wall-sex scene”. Who was I to deny that?

Excerpt:

It took a while for Blaine’s brain to register that Kurt was talking to him because, Holy Mother of God, was the man in front of him a sight to behold. The sheen of sweat that covered his pale skin made him look even more radiant. The white tee shirt he wore was a little grimy from the boxes, but that added to the appeal. And that throat … that milky throat, which moments ago was on full display working as it swallowed water, made Blaine forget all about the fact that he was an engaged man because all he wanted to do in that moment was push Kurt into the wall and fuck him senseless.

3. Our Life

 This was the very first daddies!Klaine fic that I wrote, so that alone makes it special to me. What I like most about it is that it follows Kurt and Blaine through their ups and downs, starting from when their first child is born to when their children leave the nest and become young adults themselves. Another reason I like this one is because it is the first fic where I involved other Glee characters and ships as supporting storylines. It was a fun one to write and I’ve often thought about creating a series of one-shots to compliment it.

Inspiration: After watching “Dreams Come True” and seeing that Klaine remained loving husbands, had successful careers, and were about to become parents, I knew I had to write my version of the events that followed, because even though we got so much Klaine in the series finale, there was so much that was missing.

Excerpt:

Kurt, Blaine, and Zavier stood in their living room and watched as Dalton and Jeremy descended the stairs. Kurt already had tears in his eyes and, when he saw the couple all dressed up, he couldn’t stop them from falling. Blaine, who was equally emotional, put his arms around Kurt’s shoulders as he saw the boys in their graduation suits. They were both perfectly tailored – of course; Kurt had made sure they were. Their suits were black with crisp white shirts. Jeremy’s was accented with a plum coloured tie and kerchief. Dalton had chosen a deep cherry colour.

“You guys look so handsome,” Kurt whispered. “Come. I need to get a picture.” Dalton and Jeremy clasped hands and stood at the foot of the stairs. By now, they knew the drill. Kurt liked to get multiple pictures from every angle possible. They posed and smiled while Zavier, in true Zavier fashion, photo bombed them at every opportunity he got.

4. My Greatest Joy

I chose this story to share with you because it was a pretty difficult one for me to write. I am proud that I was able to finish it. Also, it ticks a lot of different boxes – there’s a big dose of “romangst” - heavy on the angst, as well as hurt / comfort, daddies!Klaine, and a few kick-ass supporting characters, including Auntie Tina and none other than Lord Tubbington.

Inspiration: I’m not sure any particular thing or person inspired this story. I think it was just my desire to write a dose of (fictional) reality and some angst.

Excerpt:

They sat beside each other in silence, but with their hands clasped together. It had been a long time since they held hands. Blaine really couldn’t remember the last time. He had always loved the feeling it gave him – of love … of friendship … of belonging. The physical union was a symbol of them belonging to each other. It reminded him of a time when they had been best friends. They laughed. They kissed. They made love … they were in love.

And then it all changed. He knew that the hand holding wouldn’t last. Once the doctors told them that Bea would be okay and Kurt felt safe again, he would take his hand away and that would be it. Blaine knew, but right now his husband’s hand was clutched in his and he wasn’t going to let it go until Kurt forced him to. He squeezed it just a little tighter and caressed his thumb over Kurt’s knuckles…

5. Let Me Hold Your Hand

This fic is one of my favourites of mine. It is heavy on the Blangst, hurt/comfort, and has a nice dose of the biggest Klaine shipper of them all, Burt Hummel. It is also the first fic in which I used / wrote flashbacks.

Inspiration: This story idea stemmed after I re-watched “A Wedding” and wondering what would have happened if Kurt had said no? What if he hadn’t agreed to spontaneously marry Blaine? That was the seed of the story and it just grew from there.

Excerpt:

Kurt knew those eyes by heart. He knew when they were happy or excited or sad or in pain – but he had never seen them like this. He saw pain but also something so much worse - devastation.

Blaine cried unabashedly. His voice was pleading and hysterical, “Kurt, this is it. Everything… we’ve worked so hard for… ends right now. Is that really what you want?”

His hazel irises searched for any signs of recant from Kurt. When Kurt remained silent, he added with a sob, “Because… I love you… so much - but if you walk away from me now… know that it will be for the last time.”

Blaine struggled to stay upright. He could barely breathe but forced himself to continue. “Because my heart will not survive this time; I will never be able to love again – not you, not anyone.”