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#blaine being there gives me some hopes

deadpresidents · 2 days

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Which President, in your opinion, was the most reluctant to seek the position? Which wound up hating it the most by the end of his term?

I am a strong believer that nobody truly becomes President of the United States "reluctantly". That's not exactly the kind of job that seeks you, especially the modern Presidency.

For a significant slice of American history, many of the people nominated for President acted as if they were being called upon to run when, behind-the-scenes, they were very active in building their campaigns and corralling supporters. Until the 20th Century it was frowned upon to openly run for the Presidency, but almost all of the Presidents wanted the gig.

I'd say that George Washington was probably more reluctant than most of his successors and likely would have preferred retiring to Mount Vernon after the Revolution, but I think he also recognized that he was the guy who needed to be the President that set the precedents. I think Ulysses S. Grant would have been perfectly happy to not be President, but once he was elected in 1868 he also wanted to keep the job. He even tried to run for a third term in 1880.

That 1880 election might have been the one case where the winner -- James Garfield -- genuinely wasn't interested in the Presidency at that point. He had gone to the Republican National Convention to support fellow Ohioan John Sherman (and defeat Grant's hopes for a third term) and gained some major attention after giving a well-received speech placing Sherman's name in nomination. When the candidacies of Sherman and James G. Blaine -- another anti-Grant candidate -- stalled, Garfield became a compromise choice and was eventually nominated on the 36th ballot. Garfield was apparently legitimately shocked by the events leading to him leaving Chicago as the GOP nominee.

By most accounts, William Howard Taft was far more interested in a potential seat on the Supreme Court than becoming President. At heart he was a judge and believed himself to be better suited for the judiciary than the Executive Branch. But Taft turned down three offers by Theodore Roosevelt to be appointed to the Supreme Court (in 1902, 1903, and 1906) because he felt obligated to complete his work as Governor-General of the Philippines and then Secretary of War. But Taft's wife desperately wanted him to become President and by the time of President Roosevelt's third offer of a seat on the Court, Taft was already being talked about as Roosevelt's hand-picked successor in the White House. And, as with all other Presidents, once he had a taste for the job, he didn't want to give it up, running for re-election in 1912 against his former friend, Roosevelt.

Gerald Ford is the only other President who hadn't spent a significant portion of his political career with his eyes on the White House. Ford spent nearly a quarter-century in the House of Representatives and his main ambition was to be Speaker of the House, but Republicans weren't able to win control of the House when Ford was in Congressional leadership positions. But even with Ford being a creature of Congress, he did attempt to put himself forward as a nominee for the Vice Presidency, first in 1960 and then in 1968, and Nixon kicked the tires on picking him as his running mate in 1960. No one wants to be Vice President without seeing it as a potential stepping stone to the Presidency, particularly at that point in history before Vice Presidents were empowered with some real influence within the Administrations they served in.

As for who wound up hating it by the end of their time in office, I think it's safe to say that John Quincy Adams didn't shed too many tears when he was defeated for re-election in 1828. And I'm sure he wouldn't use the word "hate", but nobody can convince me that George W. Bush wasn't thoroughly ready to escape Washington by late-2007. There were times in 2008 when he seemed like he just wanted to hold a snap election like they have in parliamentary systems and go home to Texas. If some Presidential insider published a book that said that Bush asked if he could just give the keys to the White House to Barack Obama in July 2008, I wouldn't be the least bit shocked.

On the other hand, if there were no term limits, Bill Clinton would have been running for President in every election since 1992 (and the crazy thing is that he's still younger than both of the presumptive 2024 nominees). I'm kind of surprised that he didn't make an effort to repeal the 22nd Amendment in the past 20 years. Clinton loved being President and was trying to find something Presidential to do until minutes before his successor was inaugurated in 2001.

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absentia-if · 10 months

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OOOH! Got this one fromna different IF. But! ROs reaction to drunk MC walking in and just gurgling "Shhh Dont tell *insert RO name here* I love them~" just being heavily drunk xD

Kade/Kara:

"--I love them."

Your dopey smile, paired with the slightly glazed look in your eyes, tells them all they need to know about your current mental state. Hazel eyes take in the almost serene expression, one they hadn't seen in so long, and a smile of their own comes unbidden to their lips.

"I'm certain they love you too, MC," they murmur, mindful of the way you were starting to sway on your feet. "Why don't we get you settled in for the night, okay? You wouldn't want to get injured before you tell them you love them, right?"

At your responding nod, K takes you by the forearm and leads you in the direction of where they hope spare bedrooms are located. Deliberating on if they'd bring this up to you tomorrow and ultimately deciding that they won't-- not now, not in this manner. Everything will happen, in the way it's meant to, given enough time.

Michael/Margot:

The sight of your drunken face, paired with the slurred speech, causes a sense of déjà vu to crash over them; azure blue eyes narrow in concentration, trying to place where the feeling had risen from, but, like the wind, it slips through their fingertips every time they're close.

"Don't tell M--"

At the mention of their name, they react faster than they can think, whipping their hand out to cover your mouth; ignoring the bolt of electricity they feel prickle their skin at the contact. They don't know why, barring the obvious, but it felt wrong to hear whatever you were about to say while you were so intoxicated. If you wouldn't tell them while you were sober, then they shouldn't hear it while you're drunk. Even if their heart was screaming at them to let you speak.

"Let's get you some water and a place to rest for the night, okay?" Taking you gently by the arm, they begin to lead you toward the guest bedrooms. "You can tell me everything, and anything, you'd like to in the morning."

Blaine/Blaire:

"You do, huh?"

A wide smile stretches across B's lips at your admission. The warmth of their gaze almost let it take on a honey-hue, dazzling gold overtaking the brown. They're not certain what manner exactly you meant, after all the saying wasn't uncommon between you both, but the context, and the events that had continuously happened up until now, give them a good indication, which causes their heart to skip a beat. However, they weren't about to let you confess everything while you were so drunk-- above anything else, you were still their best friend, and they were going to protect you.

"Why don't we talk about this in the morning, okay?" They gently nudge your shoulder, before pushing you down onto the couch they had previously been reclined in. "You know how you get without your beauty sleep."

Wren/Wynn:

A hard look flits over their face at the confession. They're more than aware you didn't mean to tell them but, barring their innate concern about how forthcoming you are when drunk, that doesn't make it any better. The knowledge that your feelings were real, that you felt anything for them to begin with, was troubling in itself-- becoming a nightmare when they take into account the way their heart had skipped a beat when they heard the words.

"That's a mistake, MC," they reply, even though they're well aware you won't remember this in the morning. "One that I refuse to let you make."

Standing, they take in your swaying form and an almost dopey smile stretched across your lips, and sigh, they know they couldn't leave you by yourself. Not now. Or ever, their mind unhelpfully supplies.

"Let's get you somewhere safe for the night."

Nicholas/Natalie:

They didn't hear you correctly, they couldn't have heard you correctly. There's no way that you felt the same way about them. It had to be the drinks you've been knocking back since arriving at the party-- something N had only come to because their best friend and you would be attending; parties had never, and will never, be their scene.

"You--" Their mind blanks on what to say, well aware that you were well past the levels of being considered sober. Wringing their hands together, lightly tugging at their sweatshirt while doing so, N offers you a strained smile. "You should get some rest, MC. I think you've had too much to drink."

Before you could protest, N takes you by the arm and begins to lead you towards a quieter area for you to be able to lay your head down. Desperately trying to ignore the way your words kept echoing within their head. You didn't mean it, they think. You couldn't have meant it.

Even if they want nothing more than for that to be false.

#absentia #ask #asks #kade lewis #kara lewis #michael steele #margot steele #blaine ellis #blaire ellis #wren cassidy #wynn cassidy #nicholas paxton #natalie paxton #scenario asks #somestuffonmymind

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fallevs · 3 months

Text

Day four of the @klaineccfanficlibrary event ❤️

This fourth poem is called What will tomorrow bring? and it's set at the very beginning.

When Kurt wasn't understood, neglected and ignored by everyone. When Kurt was suffering but no one noticed or pretended there was no problem. Because a boy cannot cry. A boy has to be strong, make his armor, can't feel emotions.

A boy cannot lock himself in his room in despair, have only blank pages to vent.

Tears wet the sheets, crinkle the paper. He doesn't feel like using strong, bright colors. He doesn't feel that way. He feels dull, lonely, gray, melancholy.

He dreams of a big love, a love that makes him feel finally enough and not wrong. He imagines a reassuring smile that warms his heart. And that helps him get through his nights. Sometimes, not always. Sometimes imagining is all he can do to keep from sinking. Hold on to something. Trust the unknown. But is there actually someone on the other side?

I'm so tired of being lonely

I still have some love to give.

I walk

alone and

ignored.

Of disappointments I've had

too many, I fear.

At night I lie down and think:

"Will I make it to tomorrow?"

It would be much easier to

wake up

satisfied and

happy, but—

But the night is getting long

and I'm tired of tossing and turning

until dawn

with this deep fear of

loneliness,

my faithful companion.

The days go by fast,

fade away without a thread

of hope.

But I will still make it,

I guess.

In the meantime I dream of

kind, warm eyes and

sweet smiles and

strong hands that hold

mine.

I dream of

soft lips chasing mine and

fingers

touching.

A sparkle.

I imagine a love

like the one in novels;

the one I don't know

if I will ever have.

I just want someone

somewhere

someday

to handle me with care.

———————————————————————

But then the next day comes. It always comes even unwillingly. It comes and he has to go ahead, do things, see people, go along with strange ideas just to not turn anyone against him because otherwise it's over, he can't afford to lose everything.

He puts on his best jacket and goes out. "I'll be quick," he tells himself. "Just a couple of hours and I'll go home and wait for the night."

But what if something happens instead? What if someone is waiting for him, even though this someone may not know it yet, because he is just as scared as he is? Someone who, without knowing him, without questioning, without prejudice, takes his hand just for the sake of it, and Kurt– he starts imagining again. The mind races, it races fast. There is this boy, so different than usual, smelling of raspberries and hope that– is singing him a song? Oh dear. Kurt can't take it. He is so embarrassed, he's blushing so hard. But he can't stop looking at him...

And the boy, this Blaine, smiles back at him– and maybe that's happiness, at last?

Surely, tomorrow, he can use bright colors and finally smile a little.

#klainevalentines2024 #kurt hummel's bullet journal #handle with care #what will tomorrow bring?#klaine fanfic #klaine fanart #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #poetry #no beta we die like men

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romanarose · 6 months

Text

If You Wanna Be Wild: Bonus Sick Fic

Santiago Garcia x Javier Pena

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Summary: Part of If You Wanna Be Wild, Santi is sick and Javi comes over to take care of him, both realizing something is brewing.

Warnings and content: PTSD (flashbacks), internalized homophobia but like. Its mild. Flashbacks to that one scene in Glee with Blaine and Tina and the vapo rub lololol

A/N: I know it's been a min since the last chapter and I promise it's coming but I thought I'd giving a lil bonus chapter. Takes place before chapter 3.

A/N 2: for those who aren’t boomers like me, MASH is a show from the 70’s about med soldiers in Korea. It was a comedy but also dealt with super heavy themes and makes me cry

1.8 words

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

When Javier Peña waltzed into work at 8:23 AM, he was surprised to find Garcia was not at his desk. Santiago was always on time, and usually early, often staying late to make sure his paperwork was just right. Javi had once returned after realizing he forgot his wallet before the weekend only to drag Santi out of the DEA’s office practically pouting at nearly midnight.

So needless to say, Santiago being gone on a Monday morning was certainly enough to make Javier concerned enough to walk back up to the secretary. Maybe he had finally gone out and enjoyed his life a little on the weekend. The kid needed it, he needed to let off some steam, and a guy that looks like him certainly wouldn’t have any trouble finding a nice girl. Well. Javi hoped she was nice. Santiago would get eaten alive.

“Hola Colleen, ¿Has visto Garcia?” He asked, leaning over her desk.

She did not look up at him. “There’s at least 6 Garcia’s in this building.”

Javi cocked his head to the side. “Which Garcia do you think I’m talking about?” A rhetorical question. “He’s late.”

“What’s it to you? You're late every day, your little lap dog probably got stuck rescuing a kitten from a tree or something.”

He would waste time on something like that.

“Colleen”

She rolled her eyes. “He called in sick, Javi, now mind your business.”

“Sick?” How did he possibly get sick, the kid had the best immune system he knew. Didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, ate all his veggie’s off his plate like his mommy was still watching. “How sick.”

“I didn’t press for details. He never uses sick days so if he wants to play hooky for once it’s none of my business.”

“Thank you Colleen.” Javi smacked the desk, not hard at all. “This was very helpful.”

Javi waited until noon to call.

“Hola?”

“Garcia, where the hell are you?” He didn’t want to make it seem like he’d been asking about him, after all.

“Oh, hey Javi.” He sounded awful. “Lo siento, I thought they would have told you I was out sick.”

“Well, no one tells me shit around here, you know that.”

“Except for prostitutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, I’m going on break, want me to swing by and get you anything? Some food, medicine, blankies.”

“Oh, actually, there’s some paper work in my top drawer-”

“I’m not bringing you work, Pope! Jesus, were you the kid who had friends bring him his homework when he was home sick from school?”

Santiago coughed and his poor throat sounded so horse. “Well, if I had friends and if I took days off, I suppose I would’ve.”

“Jesus, Garcia.”

“I’m JOKING! But yeah it was my sister. Mamí would have my head if I fell behind.”

That kid was never going to be free of his mother. “Other than work, do you need anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow? 8 O’clock?”

“I’ll see you when you walk in at 8:45”

“Shut the hell up.”

Javi was getting ready to leave work when he thought he might call Santi again to see if he needed anything on his way home. They didn’t live far, after all.

He called once, but the boy didn’t answer. He called again, no answer. When there wasn’t an answer a third time, Javier got concerned; he must be too sick to answer. Only stopping briefly at a corner store for some medicine, Javi rushed over to Santiago’s, banging on the door. “Garcia? Garcia!”

After a few minutes, Santi stumbled to open the door, looking groggy and messy and so unlike the boy he knew. Santiago shaved every morning, came to work crisp and put together. Right now, in a rumpled t shirt and shorts and a face that looked like he hadn’t shaved since Friday morning, Santi looked like an adorable disaster.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked, worry in his eyes.

What a guy. “Am I okay? Garcia I called you three times and you didn’t answer, you look like hell.”

“Oh.” Able to relax a bit, Santi’s shoulders slumped and he rubbed his eye as he coughed and looked at the bad in Javi’s hand. “What’s that?”

Javi glanced at the bag before returning his gaze back to the sick man. “I brought you some medicine. Thought you might need something.”

The smile Santi gave him made his heart leap. “Javi, I appreciate you worrying.”

“I wasn’t-”

“But I’ve had three of my tia’s stop by and baby me already.”

“Oh-”

Santi saw Javi’s slightly dejected look, and it made his heart swell just a bit to see that yeah, Javi was an asshole, but he was his asshole and Javi cared about him. Javi wanted to take care of him. “You know how to make soup?”

“I can try.”

“Good, because I’m starving.” Opening the door to let him in, Santi went back to his couch to watch M.A.S.H.

Javi set to work. “Jesus, Garcia, M.A.S.H? Didn’t you get enough of war?”

“They can’t show anything on TV worse than what I’ve actually seen.” He mumbled, cuddling up in a blanket again.

Javier often forgot that Santiago had a whole life before him, a whole life of seeing things Javi couldn’t protect him from. Occasionally, Santi would mention his friends from the Army, his special ops team he was a part of, but not much, and especially nothing with what happened or why he left. There was his best friend who was a pilot and a pair of brothers. The older brother had been honorably discharged recently with “post-vietnam syndrome” although they hadn’t really spent that much time in Vietnam, comparatively. Vietnam was just the thing that got people talking, finally. This only came up in concern for the young brother who without an older brother’s guidance was hard to reel in.

By the time the soup was done, Santi seemed asleep so Javi walked over to the couch quietly only to find Santi was awake, watching M.A.S.H with tears in his eyes. Javi looked to the TV and although he couldn’t pinpoint what was going on, the scene was somber. “Garcia?” He didn’t answer him. “Garcia, hey, Santi-” Javi touched his shoulder causing Santi to gasp out of his trance.

“Will?!” Santi jumped up, eyes wide with panic and hand going for his hip only to find no gun. No holder. No uniform…

“Hey, amigo, relaje, relaje… It’s okay.” He held up his hands to try and placate him. “It’s just me, you're safe, I’m not going to hurt you, Santi.”

When Santi realized it had happened again he quickly averted his eyes, subconsciously shifting away from his friend. “Fuck, sorry, I was… dreaming.”

Javi knew he wasn’t dreaming. He had been awake, clearly, but Javi didn’t question him. “Dreaming about how you got that scar on your neck?”

He knew him a little too well. That’s why Santi called out for Will, the voice he had heard before slipping into unconsciousness. Santi felt like he had been going crazy. It wasn’t as bad as it had been for Will; Santi could handle gunshots and cross fire and action. He could handle it well, he knew he was capable. It was other things, however, things like dead bodies or funerals that sent him into a haze. One funeral he went to when he looked in the casket he saw himself. He never told anyone and never went again. When he went to mass he prayed he would never have to go Frankie, Will, Benny, or Elena’s. He prayed he’d go first.

“No.” He took a few bites of soup, complimenting it.

Javi just nodded. “Alright.” Turning the TV to the Mary Tyler Moore show, Javi tried to change the subject to distract Santi. “Always thought she was hot.”

“Me too. Had a crush on her when she was on the Dick Van Dyke show.”

Javi chuckled. “Of course you did. Here.” He went and got the cough syrup and put it on a spoon. “Here.”

Like a child, Santi whined. “Asqueroso”

“Shut the hell up, I’m not Mary Poppins and I’m not giving you sugar to wash it down.”

“Fiiiiine.” Santi lifted is head enough that Javi could guid the spoon between his plush and waiting lips, eyes dropping in exhaustion and face flush with fever in a way that made Santi just look… fucked out.

No, fuck, shit, he’s not suppossed to be thinking those things about his partner, or men in general. Not that Javi had a problem with it, but he wasn’t gay. It was just his mind wandering, that’s all.

“Javi?” Santi mumbled half asleep.

“Hm?”

“There’s some vicks vapor rub on the counter, can you grab it for me?”

“Yeah, no problem.” When Javi returned with the rub, Santi was out cold. “Garcia?” He felt his forehead, he was burning up. Poor kid was probably exhausted. Sighing, he opened the vapor rub. With care and precision, Javi rubbed a bit on his neck and a little on his chest, only dipping slightly under the collar so as to not put his hand anywhere untoward. It wasn’t sexual, Santi just needed help. Digging through his medicine cabinet, Javi also found some peppermint and lavender oils and remembered what his own mother used to do when he was sick. A tiny bit of lavender under the nose and some peppermint on Santi’s temples, Javi hopped at the very least he could have a good sleep.

He deserved it, honestly. The young man worked hard, he cared about what he did and the people of Colombia. He was smart, capable, and kind, traits that Javi remembered liking so much in Steve. He was easy to like.

Settling into a chair nearby with some soup, Javier decided to stay for a little bit just in case Santi needed something or in case he got worse.

When Santi woke up a few hours later it had already gotten dark out and he had intended on moving to his bed. When he began to sit up, however, Santi saw Javier asleep on the chair. He must have stayed to keep an eye on him. Santi’s heart was full, overcome with emotion and affection for his partner in ways he can’t remember feeling since… well shit, Santi can’t remember feeling like this. He had friends he loved dearly, he loved his sister and his mother and all his extended family… but this felt… different. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Standing up, Santi quietly used the bathroom and got another blanket from his room. Before laying down again, Santiago carefully laid the blanket over Javier, tucking him in.

“Buenas noches, amigo. Y gracias."

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

Hope this was enough to tide y'all over!

I was writing the vapo rub scene and it was gonna be a lil more intimate but then I got trauma flashbacks to Glee and ina singing and... I said hmmmmmmmm nope lol

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @laiisleitte @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleur @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42

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little-escapist · 5 months

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au + trope + prompt game

13. soulmates!au + 9. strangers to lovers + 2. "fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck."

Thanks for prompting! The fic is under the cut, no warnings, just fluff ;)

Blaine never thought he’d meet his soulmate like this. And boy, had he dreamed up different scenarios as a kid, often late into the night, trying to conjure up what his soulmate might look like. Of course, it’s not quite as easy as that, as everyone knows. The time you meet your soulmate is fated and you can’t find out how it’s going to happen or who it’s going to be until it’s happening.

He’s early to the subway stop. He wanted to give Sam some privacy for a phone call with Mercedes and so he left for work way earlier than usual, almost early enough to catch the previous train. Almost being the key word.

A well-dressed, slim man is swearing up a storm, his pale cheeks glowing red and his breath coming hard when Blaine reaches the platform.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck.” The man looks close to tears as he stares after the back of the train.

“Hey,” Blaine says and approaches cautiously. “Is, um. Clearly something is wrong, but is there something I can do to help?”

The stranger groans. “If you can turn back time, maybe. Otherwise, no.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, feeling bad for the other’s misfortune. “If I could turn back time, I’d do it for you, but as it is, I’m just human. I can listen and keep you company, though, if that helps any?”

The man looks him in the eye and it’s like time stops. So maybe Blaine can manipulate time after all? They stare at each other for an eternity, Blaine drowns in the off-blue depths of this man’s eyes and never wants to leave.

Finally, one of them blinks, and the moment is gone, reality rushing back in.

“My name is Blaine,” Blaine says and offers his hand. He’s pretty sure already, but the touch will confirm it. His heart is racing in his chest, and he hopes that his hand won’t be too sweaty when this stranger takes it.

“Kurt,” the man says as their palms touch, and a strange, burning itch begins in Blaine’s hand.

They both feel it, because they exchange another glance, half excited, half terrified. Blaine really, really wants to see what his mark is like, but he doesn’t want to let go of Kurt’s hand. Kurt gives him a wobbly smile.

“I guess being late for my job interview is worth it, because I met you at last,” he says, voice oddly wistful.

Blaine huffs out a laugh and tucks in his chin. “So, you’ve been waiting for me?” The thought makes him feel warm all over. He has been waited for, he has been wanted even when he felt small and insignificant and useless.

“Since forever! The thought of meeting you was the only thing that got me through, sometimes.”

“Me, too. I’ve been looking for you forever.” They’re still holding hands, and both of them are growing sweaty on top of the burning tingle of their marks forming.

“Do you want to see?” Kurt asks, bouncing in place a little.

Blaine nods, and they let go to take a look at their palms.

The soul mark is beautiful. Not that Blaine suspected anything else, but still, seeing it takes his breath away. It’s like lace, looping lines forming a shape of a sun. It’s pale gold in color and fills his whole palm. It’s better than anything he imagined in his wildest dreams, and Kurt... Kurt is more beautiful than any imaginary man Blaine’s been conjuring up in his mind to get through his loneliness.

“Let’s get a cab. If we split the fare, it won’t be that expensive, and maybe you’ll make it to your job interview,” Blaine suggests.

Kurt nods. “Yes. And then we’re getting lunch and then dinner because I want to learn all about you.”

They head back above ground hand in hand.

#klaine #glee #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #my fic #my writing

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rockitmans · 1 year

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On a place of insecurity (with Blaine being the insecure one pretty please!)

send me a number and I'll write you a kiss

21. on a place of insecurity

Blaine doesn't think he's being hyperbolic when he considers that running out of gel five minutes before his extremely attractive date is meant to pick him up, is probably the worst thing that's ever happened to a person in the history of humankind.

He looks hopelessly into the mirror. His curls are looking particularly unruly today. He's probably let his hair get a little too long and it's literally full on bed head just to make the situation that much worse. He looks at his watch. Four minutes. He muffles his screech of frustration into his hands. It doesn't really help.

A slightly manic part of him seriously considers trying to find an alternative to hair gel. Candle wax for example. Or margarine. Axle grease.

He shakes it off. Kurt is going to be here in three minutes. This is their third date. They'd previously been talking for two weeks. Blaine has basically just halved his chances of getting laid. Factoring all that in, he calculates… that he's royally screwed and not in the fun way.

He sighs and runs his hand through his curls, tidying them into slight submission before finishing getting dressed. Two minutes to go. Way too late to cancel. Maybe he could fake illness. Barricade the door and tell Kurt he has food poisoning.

One minute.

But he really wants to see Kurt. He loves talking to him. And the way Kurt had kissed him goodnight after their last date had been filled with a promise for more. And God Blaine wants more.

There's a knock on the door. Blaine steels himself. He opens the door.

"Hi, Kurt," he says brightly, like he doesn't look like a woodland creature. Like everything is normal and fine. Bright and breezy.

Kurt blinks at him. His eyes travel to Blaine's hair. Here it comes, Blaine thinks. Confusion. Horror. Or worse. Kurt very kindly telling him he still has some time to finish getting ready.

"Hello," Kurt murmurs, stepping forward to give Blaine a kiss on the cheek. "You never told me you were hiding gorgeous curls under that gel."

Blaine gapes. Like an honest to God cartoon character. "...What?"

Kurt laughs, low and delighted. "May I?" He gestures and Blaine nods his assent. Kurt steps close, lightly cradling Blaine's jaw with one hand and dropping a surprisingly sweet kiss into his curls. Kurt uses the grip to tilt Blaine's face to his. "If you just prefer gel that's fine, but I hope you know you never need to hide these."

"I do know," Blaine says. Because for some reason when Kurt says it like that it feels easy to believe. Obvious even.

"Good. How interested were you in seeing that movie?" Kurt's mouth is so close, his body warm against Blaine's.

"I could definitely be persuaded to do something different," Blaine says with all the clarity of a man that is about to get royally screwed in the good way.

"Perfect."

This time Kurt's mouth finds his.

#they're just gonna be short lil things!#but send one if you want ^^#klaine #glee #klaine fanfic #my fic #asks #can one strictly kiss hair?#who can say #the kiss fics

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 8 months

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2. Page-turning Fanfic Underneath it All by Heartsmadeofbooks 3. Fanfic that made you reach for a box of tissues- Hummel’s Home for Non-Conforming Adolescents by BeautifulUnseen 4. Fanfic where one has an unusual occupation- Dance Me To The End Of Love by Kurtswish 5. Wild Card - Love, Blaine by GleefulDarrenCrissfan 6. ? 7.written for a challenge- The Prom-us Misc authors

8. Made me lol - Chocolate Milk byCoffeeAddict80 9. Trope you don't usually read- Everybody's Naked and There's a Country to Run by CoffeeGleek

Thank you for your card! Find them on A03

2. Page turning fic: Underneath it All by @heartsmadeofbooks

Blaine first meets the mysterious Kurt Hummel at his brother's engagement party, and he's immediately struck by the quiet, handsome stranger. He doesn't expect their paths to cross again, but when life gives an unexpected turn, Kurt might be the only one with the power to help him save everything he cares about.

3. Fanfic that made you reach for a box of tissues- Hummel’s Home for Non-Conforming Adolescents by @beautifulunseen

Blaine Anderson had learned from the time he was marked as Non-Conforming that his life would never go according to plan. Still, the last thing he expected was Hummel’s Home and its head boy Kurt, who had, against all odds, escaped the same fate. Dystopian AU.

4. Fanfic where one has an unusual occupation- Dance Me To The End Of Love by @kurtswish

While unwinding at a club, Blaine Anderson meets a stranger who promises him one night of passion. When the night is over, Blaine wants more, so does Kurt; but what Kurt offers him is not quite what he was expecting.

5. Wild Card - Love, Blaine by @gleefuldarrencrissfan

Blaine Anderson is a typical teenager. Except he’s not because he’s hiding a huge secret. He’s gay. But after reading a confession on the informal Dalton blog, he discovers that he’s not the only closeted boy at Dalton. After a moment of courage, he emails him and ultimately starts up a friendship that will change life as he knows it. Loosely based on Love, Simon.

6. Summer story ------- no choice

7. Written for a challenge- The Prom-us Misc authors @gleefuldarrencrissfan @esperantoauthor @hkvoyage @hippohead @honeysucklepink @grlnxtdr30 @justgleekout @notyourdayrdream @missflurry @starpunchsoup Kellyb321

Kurt and Blaine met just as they did in canon, and even though Blaine realizes when Kurt sings Blackbird that he's in love with Kurt, he never says anything, and Kurt goes back to McKinley. Blaine transfers to McKinley for senior year, and they are best friends, bonding on being the only two out guys at McKinley until Karaofsky comes back. And he's out and proud, and he wants Kurt. And so he asks Kurt to be his prom date, repeatedly until Kurt, in frustration, finally blurts out that someone already asked him. He said the first name that came to mind, Blaine's. On top of that, he tells Dave that they are now dating. Now, Kurt needs to convince his best friend to take him to the biggest event of their high school year, senior prom. Tropes: Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, High school Klaine, Canon Divergent

8. Fic made me laugh out loud - Chocolate Milk by @caramelcoffeeaddict CoffeeAddict80

Based off a prompt found on tumblr -- “Yes, I know this is a bar, but you’re a really hot bartender, and I panicked and said “CHOCOLATE MILK” when you asked me what I wanted to drink, now I just want to crawl away and hide forever” AU

9. Trope you don't usually read- Everybody's Naked and There's a Country to Run by @coffeegleek

A take on the "prince/king!Blaine and prince/king!Kurt are getting married and have to do it while naked in front of their loyal subjects" trope. It’s pure crack taken seriously. I’m blaming the heat. The fic started as this wisp of an idea and a single funny Kurt line. It was supposed to all be fast paced and instead sometimes dissolves into a bit of world building, exposition, and Kurt feelings. I do try my best and hope that at least some of the jokes and humor land. It also developed a full blown plot that has a beginning and an end.

#klaine fanfiction #2023 klaine bingo

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forabeatofadrum · 8 months

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Hello and happy Sunday to you all. Thank you @confused-bi-queer, @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tags, and a tag back to @aroace-genderfluid-sheep.

My Klaine fic is still being written. Toffee the hamster has been found, but it's taking a while to finish it. An anon did give me a title idea, namely The Class Menagerie, and anon, I love you for it,

In other fic related news, I started posting Dancin' on that bamboo ceiling, the fic series that explores Asian identity and racism through Glee, while also trying to find a way to place glee's own racism towards its Asian characters. I was quite nervous to post it and a bit stressed. So stressed that I straight up confused Mike and Wes in one of my summaries and in the series' summary I accidentally wrote that Mike moved to China, not from China. Oops. It's been fixed. Five fics are posted and I am not at all surprised that the Klaine-centric one has the most hits, since people still prefer shippy fics over gen fics. I just hope these Klainers (hi!!) are encouraged to also read the others.

I am also nervous because I don't want to come off as if I am speaking for everyone yada yada. I did add the disclaimer that I am one sole person writing this and I am also alway open for more feedback, but it feels so nerve wracking. I usually write for me and me alone, but not this time, I guess. And even so, I am one Chinese person and damnit China is big. Catch me frantically googling whether people in Hubei speak Mandarin or something else etc. (Which I knew the answer to, cause my sister is from Hubei, but I'm just so nervous!!!) (This is also why I remember that Mike's family is from Hubei.)

Also some things in Glee are so fucking stupid. I am already thinking about changing something in Blaine's chapter so it lines up with canon, but I am still trying to explain why Tina's last name is Cohen-Chang.

Writing this fic is uhhhh A Lot, since I am delving deep into the racism that I have experienced and also the stories of other Asian people who I have spoken to about this. (JY, Todd, I haven't seen y'all in literal years, but you're in this fic.) (I do still talk to Cilla regularly.) (And a shout-out to my sister who constantly has to deal with people saying "she is too pretty to be Chinese"!). I am excited to explore this and I keep thinking about things I can add, but it is heavy, as you might expect. I do try to keep some humour and joy in it, because unlike Glee, I also want to show that being Asian can be fun and can lead to connection. I am looking forward to Mike, Tina, Wes, Blaine and Yu-Jin being friends! Here's a more upbeat part of the sad shit that I shared recently:

"Yes, yes, yes!" Yu-Jin cheers when Mike and Wes step inside the bedroom, both wearing a tangzhuang. "God, if only my grandparents could see me now," Wes says as he studies himself in the mirror. "Tina's making photo's," Blaine says. Tina's new phone has the best camera of them all and she'll send the photos to the others later. She definitely wants to save the mirror selfies that she made with Yu-Jin. Tina's hanbok has become to small and it's straining her in places, but she loves the way she looks and that's what matters.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @facewithoutheart @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather

#six sentence sunday #tagged in

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invisibleraven · 10 months

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1 - coffee shop au for your most self-indulgent rare pair

"I've got a medium drip for Blaine!" Willie called, laying the drink on the counter. "And a grande nonfat mocha for Kurt!" He smiled at the very cute (and obviously together) guys that came up to fetch their drinks and Willie waved as they went off, hand in hand.

Looking at the clock though, Willie groaned. He knew he'd regret taking the double shift, but he had rent to pay and paints to buy, so the money was appreciated. He knew if he really wanted to he could ask Caleb for help, but he hadn't gotten that bad yet.

Maybe it was foolish, given Caleb was wealthy as Croesus, and more than happy to give his beloved foster song whatever he wanted. But he also was a self made man, and Willie wanted to prove he could do the same, make a mark for himself without it being because of Caleb's money or name.

Thus working at a coffee shop for shit hours while he got his Graphic Design degree, plus his Art minor. Maybe a useless degree to some, but he had already designed a few ads that kept his fridge stocked, and a job lined up for once he had his diploma next year. Giving him lots of time to work on his art, maybe even sell some of it.

All in all, Willie didn't have many complaints in his life.

Except perhaps that it didn't include any romance. Willie had been tragically single since he and Dante went kaput, and well seeing happy couples sit five feet away on dates and morning after drinks kind of stung.

Case in point, the super hot guys that just walked in. A blond in a pink hoodie with a honest to goodness fanny pack. The other with dark slicked back hair and in a leather jacket. They contrasted beautifully and the sappy looks they gave each other made Willie ache.

But he threw on his customer service smile, and greeted them. "Hey there, what can I get for you?"

"I'll have a large iced chai tea latte," the leather jacket wearing one said.

"Oat milk cappuccino please," the blond replied.

"Lex you know you'll be wired all night if you drink that now."

"Well Reginald, if I don't I'm gonna fall asleep at my drumset tonight. So caffiene me up."

"You guys in a band?" Willie asked, giving them their total.

"Yeah, Sunset Curve," Reginald said, shooting him finger guns. "Tell your friends!"

"We're playing the Satellite tonight," Lex said. "You should come check us out."

Willie's smile faded at that. "Aw man, if I didn't have to open tomorrow I totally would. I've heard of you guys, you're really good."

"Thanks, I'm Reggie by the way. This is Alex."

"Willie." Then he blushed as Alex shoved their change and a few extra bills into the tip jar.

"Well we go on at nine, so if you wanna come even just for an hour, we'd love to have you there," Alex said.

"I'll get them to set a ticket out for you if you want," Reggie offered.

"Why would you do that?" Willie asked. "You don't know me."

Reggie blushed and shrugged. "Always was a sucker for a pretty face, plus we always try to do right by our fans."

"You think I'm cute?" Willie asked with a smirk, sitting his chin on his palms. "Well neither of you are hard on the eyes either."

"T-thanks," Alex stuttered, turning the softest pink, rivalling his hoodie.

Sure Willie knew that they might only be complimenting him for a one night tumble with a third, but hey, he wouldn't exactly turn the chance down. It wasn't an epic romance, but it was more than he'd been offered lately.

Plus he didn't think he'd kick either of them outta bed given the chance.

"Ahem, your drinks are ready," Fuego called from down the counter, rolling his eyes at them.

Alex and Reggie both grinned, still flushed, and they took their drinks, but neither of them rushed to leave, almost reluctant to say goodbye to Willie. But then Alex got a text that made his face screw up and he muttered that they had to get to sound check.

"I'll try to make it tonight," he promised.

"Hope you do!" Reggie exclaimed.

"See you tonight Willie!" Alex called, yanking Reggie out and into the street, Willie watching them go.

He got back to work, restocking and cleaning between each lull, wondering if he could squeeze in a nap after work. Only then, firtune smiled on him and Mabel came in, asking if he would switch shifts with her tomorrow, meaning he would work the closing shift, letting him stay out late, and even sleep in the next day.

He was pretty quick to agree to the change, and took his share of the tips before flying home. He found he was too amped for a nap, but he managed to wash the worst of the coffee stink off himself and picked out his cutest crop top and snazziest socks.

And given the hungry, predatory looks that Alex and Reggie gave him as they spotted him from the stage? Well he figured he chose well.

And the next morning, when they woke him up with kisses and coffee from his cupboards? He knew he did.

#filled prompts #ficlet #willexie #julie and the phantoms

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ao719 · 2 years

Text

Vancross - You’re Looking At Me (Chapter 5)

Most of the characters belong to Pixelberry.

Summary: A group of friends embark on their final year at Vancross Institute with the hopes of making it their best year yet. When a new face with a complicated family plagued by secrets and rumors arrives on campus, new friendships are formed, a new relationship blossoms, and threatening challenges arise.

Title inspiration: Give Me Your Attention - The Waiting

Main Pairing: Liam x OC

A/N: Multiple crossover series (but heavily focused on TRR). There will be random sprinkles of canon throughout this story, but for the most part, it’s pretty much out the window. Thank you to @the-soot-sprite for looking it over. Please excuse any errors.

Warnings: This series will contain nsfw material, language, alcohol and drug use, and is not suitable for minors. If you read, you acknowledge you are 18+

Catch up here

Perma Tags (if you’d like to be added or removed for this story, please let me know): @zaffrenotes @cocomaxley @emichelle @sweetest-marbear @indiacater @gibbles82 @classylady1234 @texaskitten30 @the-soot-sprite @ladyangel70 @esmckenzie @dcbbw @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @txemrn @charlotteg234 @kat-tia801 @neotericthemis @foreverethereal123 @choiceskatie @sirbeepsalot @debramcg1106 @gnatbrain @ofpixelsandscribbles @openheart12 @sincerelyella @superharriet @queenrileyrose @alyssalauren @aestheticartsx @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @indiana-jr @bascmve01 @rainbowsinthestorm @emkay512 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @forallthatitsworth @walker7519 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @amandablink @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @princessleac1 @21-wishes @appleone @tessa-liam @pixelatedpassion

Inside the lecture hall, Liam sat slumped in his chair as he stared at the projector screen at the front of the room; it was his last class of the day and he was ready for it to be over.

As the professor continued to drone on about the current image on the screen, Liam’s eyes shifted to the right, landing on the back of Croía’s head. She was leaning against the table with her head propped up against her hand. After their group Friday night out and taking Saturday to recuperate, she had come to his suite Sunday so they could work on their project. They had spent most of the afternoon working on the assignment, and afterward, when Blaine and Alia showed up, the girls ended up staying to watch a movie. Before Croía left that night, she and Liam had made plans to meet up again today after classes to work on the assignment some more.

Liam continued to feel curious and intrigued by Croía. She was still fairly reserved, but she seemed to be easing into her new norm at Vancross and with that, slowly starting to reveal more of the person behind her quiet and shy exterior. One thing, in particular, he picked up on just from working on their paired assignment together was her lack of confidence in herself.

During the first few times they met to work on the project, Liam couldn’t help but notice the way Croía seemed so unsure of herself when discussing their options regarding the assignment. Any time he would ask for her opinion on something, her response came out as more of a question rather than an answer. And he was still struggling to wrap his mind around her telling him that her parents never discussed matters like this with her.

These were things that had been drilled into Liam by his parents and tutors since he was old enough to understand and retain the importance. And while he understood her position as one of many spares, knowing she would more than likely never take the seat on her family’s throne, in his opinion, these were still things she should know. He had been taught that part of being a spare was to not only be an advocate but also a sounding board and advisor in these types of matters for the one who did have the crown. It was the entire reason they were given this assignment. Not everyone in their classes was an heir to a throne, but somewhere in their political futures, they could be dealing with a similar type of scenario in some capacity.

The professor flipping on the lights pulled Liam’s attention back to the front of the room; during the final moments of class, he reminded them of their paper due next week before finally dismissing them. As he packed up his things, Liam’s eyes flickered between his bag and Croía as she stood from her seat. They had made plans to meet but hadn’t spoken since, and Liam wasn’t sure if she remembered.

Liam stood from his seat and slung his bag over his shoulder. When he glanced up to find Croía, she was already at the bottom of the stairs near the door. He maneuvered his way past his lingering classmates down the stairs and headed out the door Croía had disappeared through before going out another door that led to the quad; after a moment, he spotted her walking along the pathway.

“Croía,” Liam called out as he walked after her.

Stopping when she heard her name, Croía turned to see him approaching her. “Hi,” she smiled.

“Hey,” Liam grinned as they started walking together. “I was wondering if you were still planning on coming by today?”

“Yeah,” Croía nodded. “I was just going to stop by my suite real quick before coming over.” She glanced up at him. “Unless you had something come up.”

“No, nothing came up. I was just checking.” Just then, a small group of third-year Cordonian nobles called out to him from across the quad; Liam waved before he glanced at her. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” Croía answered. Liam smiled with a nod before veering off in the direction of the group as she continued along the pathway toward her building.

****

A long while later, Liam and Croía sat in his room inside his suite; books they had taken from the library were laid open and strewn across the floor in front of them. They had compiled lists of the pros and cons of each fake scenario and had written down paragraphed examples to back their claims taken from the history books in front of them. Now all they needed to do was make their decision so they could begin to work on the final and most important part of the project.

Liam glanced up at Croía as she finished writing down the last bit of a paragraph she was working on. He knew which direction he would choose to take in this fake scenario given to them; he’d known from the very beginning. But he wanted to see what she was going to choose. “So … what are you thinking as far as the choice?”

Croía looked at him hesitantly. “Well, um …” She glanced back down at their lists, buying herself time.

Liam watched her for a moment; she was wringing her hands together and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she scanned the lists like she was going to find the answer there. “Let me ask you something,” he said, and Croía met his gaze again. “Are you struggling with this because you’re focusing too much on what your kingdom would actually do?”

Croía smiled sheepishly. “Maybe … I guess.” She sighed, leaning back against the foot of Liam’s bed. “Aren’t you doing the same?”

“No,” Liam shook his head. “I mean, do I think that my opinion aligns with the stance my parents and royal advisors would take on the same matter? Yes. But that’s not why I’m choosing the answer I am. I’m choosing it because it’s what I think would be best.”

“And what if they didn’t agree with you?”

“I would take their opinions into consideration, just as they would take my opinion into theirs. But at the end of the day, the decision would rest with me, so I need to be sure of my answer, which in this case, I am.”

Croía stared at him for a moment; he was so confident, but not in a smug or egotistical way. She couldn’t help but think at that moment how good of a King he would make when his time came. Cordonia was lucky to have him. And he was lucky to have parents who had taught him well, who had taught him to trust his instincts and to think for himself. She couldn’t say the same. “And what if your opinion doesn’t matter?” she asked.

Liam furrowed his brows. “It always matters,” he replied.

Croía let out a wry laugh. “Not where I come from.”

Liam now knew why she was so unsure of herself; she wasn’t used to freely giving her thoughts. He knew she had her own mind made up, he just needed to get her to say it out loud. “Ok … answer me this. Take this as if it was a real situation at this very moment.” Croia knitted her brows curiously. “What would you do? Not your family … not Drakovia … but you.”

“I …” Croía trailed off.

Liam watched her think for a moment, able to see her hesitation, almost as if she were searching for the right answer or at least the one she thought he wanted to hear, but that’s not what he wanted at all. There was no right or wrong answer, only her opinion, and she needed to know that it mattered. “Be confident in your answer, Croía. Don’t say what you think anyone else would want you to. Trust what your gut is telling you.”

Croía looked at him, this time meeting his gaze with newfound aplomb. “I’d go with the technology.”

Liam subtly smiled. “Why?”

“Well … for starters, I would take our military into consideration. How well trained they are, how big they are. If we’re a small kingdom, I would assume that our military is average at best, but we also have the wealth for training and weaponry. And by combining our military with country A’s, it could very well be just as large as country B. So that would put us around the same size, possibly bigger, with the added advantage of the technology. With country B … we should have cause for concern for any ulterior motives because they don’t seem to have anything else to offer but their military. And they’re said to be a kingdom known for their ‘military tactics.’ Tactics is a keyword there … they could be used to intimidating others and backing them into a corner to get what they want with underlying threats of military action. And they could potentially be looking to overthrow the smaller kingdom using those said tactics.”

Liam grinned wide. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” At his words, he watched Croía smile; it was a brilliant smile, the first that he’d seen since meeting her that reached her icy blue eyes and made them sparkle … and made his heart skip a beat. He cleared his throat and looked back down at the papers in front of them. “So … I think we’ve made our decision then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Croía replied.

Liam leaned back on his arms, resting his palms on the floor as he looked at her again. “You know, I’m still surprised that none of this was ever discussed with you back home. Not that I mean anything bad by saying that … it’s just …”

“Not how you grew up?” Croía quipped.

“No,” Liam shook his head.

“It sounds like we grew up in two different worlds.”

Liam smiled at her. “So, tell me about your world, Croía.”

“Comparing notes, are we?” Croía asked with a hint of amusement in her tone.

“No,” Liam chuckled. “Not comparing. Maybe I just want to get to know you a little better,” he said as he looked at her.

“Ok,” Croía smiled, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them.

“Let’s start with siblings. There’s eight, right?”

“Yes. And you have … two?”

“Leo and Lena,” Liam nodded. “So, you have me beat there.”

“Well, does it count if I only talk to two out of the eight?” Croia quipped.

“I’ll still give it to you,” Liam chuckled. “How about the names department?”

“Like the given royal names?” Croía chuckled.

Liam nodded. “What are yours?”

“Croía Alexandria Ophelia,” she replied.

“I got you by one,” he chuckled. “Liam Dominic Alexander Nikolaos.”

“Well, that’s just a mouthful,” Croía giggled.

“Ok … parents?” Liam smiled.

Croía’s smile slightly fell. “You first.”

“Amazing,” Liam answered without hesitation. “I’m close with both. My mom always made sure we were having fun, no matter what it was we were doing, sometimes against my father’s wishes,” he chuckled. “They still act like kids themselves behind closed doors, but in public, they’re the epitome of grace and duty. And they’re loved and respected by our people.”

Croía found herself hanging on every word, wondering what that would have been like growing up. Her parents were the exact opposite. Amazing? That was a far stretch. Fun? Her parents never heard of the word. Loved and respected by their people? More like feared. “My parents aren’t like that at all,” she said quietly.

Liam looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “What are they like?”

“Strict.”

“In like an overprotective manner?”

“If that’s what you want to call it.”

What began as a lighthearted conversation had taken a quick turn, and despite how curious he was to hear more, Liam wasn’t going to push on a seemingly touchy subject. “Well … everyone’s different. Maybe my parents are the ones who are doing it all wrong,” he joked.

Croía offered a halfhearted smile, knowing he was only saying that in an attempt to lighten the suddenly drab mood. She took in a breath and sat straight. “Well … I should probably head back to my suite. I’ve got a few other assignments I need to work on tonight.”

“Yeah, me too,” Liam nodded. Croía began to clean up the mess of books on the floor before gathering her things and heading out of his room. “I, uh … I think we’re all planning on going to the beach Friday,” he said, making small talk as he walked her to the door.

“Yeah, Alia mentioned it to me last night,” Croía replied.

Liam smiled as he opened the door for her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you Friday.”

“See ya,” Croía smiled before stepping into the hall.

“Bye.” Liam shut the door as he rubbed the back of his neck. He dropped his hand from the knob and knitted his brows in thought before he turned, heading back toward his room with a curious smile.

****

Croía stepped off the elevator and exited Liam’s building, starting back toward her own; she walked slowly, losing herself to her thoughts with an inexplicable smile. “Maybe I just want to get to know you a little better.”

That wasn’t something she was used to hearing.

Growing up the youngest of nine, Croía became accustomed to being ignored. She was always overlooked and often reminded that she was “a mistake” as she heard her mother refer to her on more occasions than she cared to remember. If it hadn’t been for Trystan and Marguerite, she would have felt all but nonexistent, but when they both left Drakovia when she was 13, that feeling had become her norm. She wasn’t close with her other siblings; the only one she spoke to was Lydea, and that only happened when her eldest sister was barking orders. And her parents … they were strict with high expectations that she could never seem to meet; nothing she did was good enough and they had no qualms about telling her so. For everything she did, they only pointed out what she hadn’t done right.

Due to her parent’s overbearingness, Croía had no friends. She was only allowed to associate with a select few Drakovian nobles her mother approved of and they were nothing more than acquaintanceships, if even that.

Because of that, Croía thought she would have a hard time making friends when she came to Vancross because she wasn’t used to interacting with others this way. She was a wallflower; quiet, shy, and unsure of herself. Alia, ever the social butterfly, seemed to pick up on that immediately, and in their downtime since the first day she arrived, she had given Croía the 4 1 1 about her group of friends so she could know more about them, and hopefully find common ground and befriend them herself. In those conversations, Liam was brought up; she had mentioned him being one of the kindest and most down-to-earth in their group. And from what she could tell in her time there thus far, Alia wasn’t wrong.

Liam seemed to be the quintessential golden boy of Vancross. He appeared to be friends with almost everyone, even those outside his main circle. In passing on campus or in the few classes they shared, Croía always saw him talking and laughing with others. So it caught her a little off guard when the boy wonder said he wanted to get to know her better.

It made her feel … noticed.

*******

That Friday evening, Blaine and Liam sat on the roof of their building, passing a blunt between them as they killed time before heading down to the beach to meet their friends. Liam handed Blaine the blunt before leaning back in his chair and looking up at the auburn-colored sky as he exhaled the smoke he was holding in.

“Alia said she’s going to meet us down there,” Blaine said before taking a hit. He looked at Liam when he heard him sigh, knitting his brows. When he exhaled, he leaned forward, passing the blunt. “Why are you sighing like that?”

“I don’t know,” Liam shrugged. “I feel like you and Alia have been doing things like this since we got back … arriving separately to the party at Henri and Alexei’s, then the club last weekend, and now this. And I really hope it’s not for my sake.”

“It’s not,” Blaine waved him off.

Liam inhaled and held his breath, staring at Blaine for a moment before passing the blunt back to him and exhaling. “Well, I just don’t want you or Alia to feel like you have to accommodate me for whatever reason. I’m a big boy and can go places by myself if you two want to do something beforehand by yourselves or show up somewhere together.”

“This is why we need to get you a lady friend because you’re starting to become paranoid,” Blaine chuckled.

“I’m not paranoid. And I do not need a ‘lady friend,’” Liam scoffed.

“I think ya do,” Blaine smirked. “Any prospects?”

“No,” Liam answered.

“What about one of the Doublemint twins?” Liam shot him a look. “You weren’t making that face last weekend,” he snorted.

“Shut up.”

Blaine chuckled as he handed the blunt back to him. “Ok … oh!” he snapped his fingers. “What about that Countess from Ismari that’s in our social media class?”

“No.”

“The Auvernal ambassador’s daughter?”

“No.”

“Lady Sophie, the Princess of Monaco’s cousin?”

“No.”

“Evelyn is fun,” Blaine chuckled.

“No,” Liam shook his head.

“You and Olivia are already besties.”

“Not happening.”

“Croía is single,” Blaine shrugged, and Liam looked at him, caught off guard by his mention of her. Then, he registered his hesitation, but it was too late. “Dude!” Blaine sat forward with wide eyes.

“No …”

“You hesitated!”

Liam gave him a look. “I did not!”

Blaine ignored him. “And you two have been spending a lot of time together lately …”

“Because we’ve been working on our project!” Liam chided before taking his hit.

“Uh-huh,” Blaine smirked as he settled back in his seat, watching Liam finish off what was left of the blunt. “Croía seems fun. And it’s a bonus that she and Alia are suitemates and seem to be pretty close already.”

“Will you stop?”

“I’m just saying!”

“We should head out,” Liam said as he stood from his chair and discarded the roach.

“Why are you changing the subject?” Blaine laughed as he stood.

“I’m not. We need to go.”

A broad grin spread across Blaine’s face as he followed Liam to the ladder. “If you say so.”

****

Alia and Croía sat in the back of the SUV with both of their guards in the front as they made their way to the beach of the lake that bordered the University grounds. Alia had explained it was nothing more than a mellow outing with their group of friends; there would be coolers of drinks, a bonfire, and conversation.

The SUV pulled into the private lot reserved for the Vancross students; it was a way to try and keep the press at bay. Croía looked out the window as they parked, seeing a group of other vehicles already there and guards gathered outside around them.

“Ready?” Alia asked.

Croía nodded with a smile. She didn’t know exactly why but she was looking forward to tonight. When they stepped out of their vehicle, they began making their way towards the pathway that led to the beach, Croía’s phone rang; she dipped her hand inside her bag, pulling it out. She felt her heart momentarily still when she saw the name flashing across the screen, instantly feeling on edge.

“I, uh, I have to take this. I’ll be down in a few.”

“Are you sure?” Alia asked. “I can wait for you.”

“No, it’s ok. Go ahead.”

Alia nodded, and as she disappeared into the pathway, Croia moved to a quiet corner along the edge of the trees and closed her eyes, letting out a breath before answering. “Hello, mother.”

“Croía,” her mother replied curtly. “It took you long enough to answer.”

“I-I’m sorry. I was—”

“I’m calling to … check-in.”

The interruption caught Croía off guard. Her mother never did any kind of “checking in” with her, albeit she never had much of a reason before; back home, she was under the watchful eye of her parents or guards at all times. The gesture seemed forced, however; she choked out the words as if it were the last thing she wanted to be doing, leaving Croía wondering why she even bothered to call in the first place. “Oh, um … well, I’m—”

“What are your classes like?” her mother interrupted.

“Uh, they’re … they’re fine. I’ve got a few papers that I—”

“And your classmates?”

Croía felt like her mother was ticking off a list of predetermined questions, asking without actually listening to her answers nor caring about them. She wondered if it was some PR stunt; the Drakovian press had been asking questions about the Princess — the only other child of the royal family save for their eldest son — being sent away to school prior to her leaving, and they were never answered. “They’re ok. I’ve had some of the stares and whispers, but—”

“Well, you can blame that on your disgraceful excuse of a brother,” her mother spat.

Croía’s jaw tensed at the way she spoke about Trystan, but she said nothing; she couldn’t. “Most everyone has been fine.”

“Are you … making friends?”

Croía’s brows furrowed; her mother had never been concerned about whether she had friends or not. In fact, she’s the one who kept her from having any to begin with, so this question caught her entirely by surprise. “Um … y-yes, I mean … I guess—”

“For god’s sake, stop stammering,” she admonished.

Croía closed her eyes. “Sorry.”

“And what do you mean you guess?” she spat. “It’s a simple question, Croía.”

“I mean, yes … I’m just … I’m still getting to know them. But my suitemate, Alia, is a bit of a social butterfly, so everyone I’ve been getting to know has been through her.”

“Alia … from Monterisso.”

“Yes.”

“And who is she introducing you to?”

“Uh, well, there’s a few … Dionne from Pavadena and her suitemate, Kennedy. The Julivert twins. Alia’s boyfriend, Blaine, and his suitemate, Liam. Simon, he’s from—”

“Liam,” her mother interrupted. “The Rys boy …”

“Yes,” Croía replied. “He and I actually got paired together on a project for one of our classes.”

A long moment of silence passed before her mother broke it. “Hm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Ok.” Croia let out a quiet breath. “So … how are you and—”

“I have to go. I’ll be in touch.”

“Oh, um, ok. I miss—” The call was abruptly cut off by a click before going silent. “… you …”

Croía could feel herself deflate as she lowered the phone from her ear and slipped it back into her purse. She was now convinced the call from her mother had to be PR related. Not once during the short-lived conversation did her mother ask about her and how she was doing. There was no I miss you, no terms of endearment, not even a goodbye. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised; she should have known better than to think she would actually want to speak to her. But a part of her thought with her being away from home for the first time ever that perhaps her mother would show the slightest bit of interest in her, a little curiosity as to how her child was faring outside of the only place she’d ever known.

All Croía knew for certain at that moment was that distance did not always make the heart grow fonder.

Taking a breath to try and compose herself, Croía started down the pathway, trying to blink away the sting in her eyes as she slowly exhaled. It wasn’t working. She could feel that tightening in her chest and that lump growing in her throat, causing her to pause just in front of the clearing to the beach. She didn’t know why it even affected her this way; it wasn’t as if this were anything new. It’s why she hadn’t bothered to call home since arriving; she didn’t see the point, knowing she would only end up disappointed. But when her mother was the one to reach out, she was given a sliver of hope that for once things would be different. Instead, she got a few generic questions, reprimanded, and hung up on.

****

Near the bonfire, Liam glanced away from Rashad and Simon to see Blaine walking toward them with Alia at his side. “Hey,” he greeted her.

“Hi,” Alia grinned, looping one arm around Blaine’s waist.

Liam looked around their small group. “Croía didn’t come with you?” Blaine tucked his lips between his teeth to hide his smile at Liam’s question.

“Yeah, she’s here. She got a phone call as we were walking down that she said she needed to take.” Alia happened to glance over; on the other side of the bonfire, she spotted Croía dipping her hand into one of the coolers and grabbing a beer. “There she is,” she smiled.

Before they could call out to her, Croía turned and walked down toward the edge of the water.

“Is she ok?” Blaine asked.

“She was perfectly fine when we got here,” Alia replied, looking at her curiously. “I should—”

“I’ll go talk to her,” Liam interrupted. “You two go have a couple of drinks,” he smiled before turning and making his way down the sand.

Blaine and Alia looked at one another, having a silent conversation before they broke out into grins. He slung his arm over her shoulder and turned his mouth to her ear with a chuckle. “I have to tell you about the chat we had before we left the suite …”

As he approached Croía where she sat in the sand near the water’s edge, Liam watched her tip her head back, taking a pull from the bottle of beer she had. “Hey,” he said softly.

Croía looked over her shoulder before looking back at the water. “Uh, hey …”

Liam heard her clear her throat and watched her take in a breath. “Want some company?”

“Sure.”

Lowering himself into the sand next to her, Liam glanced over; he could see the corner of her eye glistening in the moonlight. “Are you alright?”

Croía quietly scoffed to herself as she kept her gaze down at the bottle in her hand. “Yeah, sorry. I just … needed a minute.”

Liam continued to stare at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Just my mom …” Croía shrugged.

“Is that who called you?” Croía finally looked at him, meeting his gaze. “Alia said you got a call.”

Croía nodded. “Yeah …” She stayed silent for a moment, taking another sip of her beer. Liam didn’t try to pry by asking questions, staying silent, and waiting for her to continue on her own. “Just being her usual charming self. Leave it to her to be able to ruin an otherwise good day in one fell swoop.” She glanced over at him, wearing a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry … you don’t need to be hearing this.”

“Don’t apologize,” Liam shook his head. “And I want to hear it.” Croía gave him a questioning look. “I mean, if you need someone to vent to, I happen to be an excellent listener,” he smiled.

Croía lightly chuckled as she glanced back at the water. “She just … she’s really good at making you feel unimportant and … less than.”

“You’re not close?”

“We never have been,” Croía shook her head. “But I thought … I thought that me being away from home and by myself for the first time that maybe she would be a little different. Tonight was the first time I’ve talked to her since coming here and … let’s just say that me being away hasn’t seemed to change a thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam said quietly. It was all he could say.

They both grew up with the privilege of being royalty, but it was clear to Liam that he and Croía’s upbringings were significantly different. He couldn’t say that he understood because he didn’t; he had a close relationship with both his parents. From what she had told him in the short time he knew her, Croía didn’t seem to be close to any of her family other than the two people who were across an ocean, one whom she hadn’t seen in years.

“Thanks,” Croía sighed before she took another long sip of her beer.

“But I don’t think you should let it ruin your night.” Liam smiled when she looked at him. “What’s the point of that? You not having a good time isn’t going to change anything, is it?”

“No,” Croía subtly smiled.

“See? So you might as well enjoy yourself.”

Croía smiled. Truthfully, just that little bit of venting did have her feeling better. And Liam was right: it wasn’t going to change anything. “When you’re right, you’re right.” She tipped her head back, taking another sip. “Thanks … for listening.”

“I told you I was good at it,” Liam chuckled.

“This is nice here,” Croía said, looking out over the moonlit lake.

Liam nodded in agreement. “There’s a lot to do here, like boating, water blobbing, and cliff jumping—”

“Water blobbing and cliff jumping?”

Liam chuckled at the sound of surprise in her voice. “Yeah. Just off the top of that peak over there,” he said as he pointed across the lake to the silhouetted mountaintop. “Never been?”

Croía shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, you gotta try it,” Liam grinned. “I’m sure we’ll make our way over there sometime soon. We come down here a lot. It’s a nice escape that’s not too far from campus.” He glanced over at her. “Speaking of campus … we’ll have to make plans to meet up again so we can work on the end of that project since we only have two weeks.”

Croía nodded. “Yeah.”

“You know, it would be a whole lot easier to make these arrangements to meet up if I had your number rather than chasing you down after class or running into you when you happen to be with Alia,” Liam chuckled.

Croía looked at him with a laugh. “I guess you have a point.”

They both pulled out their phones at the same time; Liam gave Croía his number first, watching as she added it to her list of contacts. Then, she gave him hers. She kept glancing at him, watching him type; he was taking longer than she thought it would for him to input her number.

“My number isn’t that hard,” Croía jested.

Liam shook his head with a grin, fighting back a laugh. “It’s not that. My phone keeps autocorrecting your name to Cocoa,” he chuckled. He glanced over when he heard her laugh, smiling at her. “I’m gonna leave it.”

“What?” Croía giggled.

“Yeah,” Liam grinned. “It’ll be my little nickname for you.” He then noticed the empty beer bottle in her hand; he stood from the sand, brushing himself off before he held out his hand. “Come on, Cocoa, let’s go get another drink,” he chuckled.

Croía laughed as she took his hand and he helped her to stand; she brushed herself off before they began walking back toward the bonfire. She subtly glanced up at him only to find him looking at her before they both looked away. She bit her lip, trying to conceal her smile as Liam chewed the inside of his cheek to hide his own.

*******

A couple of days later, Blaine walked from his room toward Liam’s. He poked his head inside, seeing him sitting on the edge of his bed. “Hey,” he said, and Liam glanced up. “Alia and I are heading out to get some lunch and then to walk around town. You wanna come?”

“Croía is coming over soon to work on our project.”

“Oh,” Blaine’s brows furrowed. “Alia didn’t mention it.”

“I just sent Croía a message last night about it.”

A grin spread across Blaine’s lips. “You got her number?”

“Yeah.” Liam gave Blaine a look when he noticed his expression. “As I told her, it would be easier to have each other’s numbers to make plans to meet up to work on the project.”

“Man,” Blaine laughed. “That was smoother than the cream cheese I put on my bagel this morning.”

Liam dropped his head, shaking it, but he couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. Truth be told, however, he was looking forward to hanging out with Croía that day, even if it was just to work on their assignment. On their night out at the beach, Liam watched her come out of her shell even more. She seemed to have taken his advice not to let her conversation with her mother ruin her night; she laughed and talked with the others, but spent a good portion of the night sitting and talking with him.

“Alright. Well, you two kids have fun,” he grinned mischievously. Before Liam could retort, Blaine turned and walked out of his room. He went to his room and finished getting ready before stepping out and heading for the door. When he opened it, Croía was standing on the other side, about to knock. “Hey,” Blaine chuckled.

“Hi,” Croía smiled sheepishly, dropping her arm. “I was, uh, supposed to meet up with Liam.”

Blaine stepped aside to let her in. “He’s in his room,” he smiled. “I’ll see you guys later.” And with that, Blaine stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

Croía started toward Liam’s room, hearing the faint sound of music. When she neared his door, she cautiously peered inside; Liam was sitting on his bed with a guitar across his lap, strumming a soft tune. She went to announce herself, but stopped, watching him effortlessly move his fingers over the strings; she didn’t know what song he was playing, but it managed to capture her full attention.

Sensing her presence, Liam glanced up, palming the strings to quiet them with a coy smile. “Hey. You can come in.”

Croía stepped inside. “I saw the guitars the first time I came here with Alia, but I thought they were just for aesthetic purposes,” she smiled.

“No, I actually play,” Liam chuckled. “My mom taught me.”

Croía grinned. “The Queen of Cordonia plays the guitar?”

“She does. And rather well,” Liam smiled. He saw her looking at the instrument curiously. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Croía shrugged. “Guitar isn’t a typical instrument you see royals learning to play,” she chuckled.

Liam grinned and playfully patted the spot next to him. “Here, I’ll show you a couple of chords.”

Croía smiled and walked over and sat beside him, and Liam slipped the guitar from his lap to hers before handing her the pick he was holding. Then, he slightly shifted so his body was at an angle just behind her shoulder; his one arm encircled her, helping her to position the instrument properly, and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks. His right hand positioned hers on the strings over the sound hole with the pick between her thumb and forefinger, then his left hand gently covered hers, guiding her fingers at the neck.

Liam slightly leaned forward to see what he was doing. “Take your pointer finger, and place it on the second fret of the A string … right here.”

Croía nodded, trying to ignore his warm breath on her shoulder and his hand on hers. “O-Ok.”

“Then take your middle finger and place it on the string below on the same fret.” Liam watched her do as he instructed before helping to adjust her fingers. “You want to use the tips of your fingers, not the pads. And make sure your hand isn’t touching the other strings or it won’t sound right.” Croía nodded. “Ok, now keeping your arm nice and fluid, just brush the pick against the strings, almost as if you’re painting and making a brush stroke.” Croía strummed the guitar, eliciting the perfect chord. “Good,” Liam grinned. “That was E minor; it’s the easiest. You can also remove these fingers,” he said as he gently moved her fingers from the strings on the neck. “That will play an open string. Now, pick each note individually, then all of them together again at the end.”

Croía looked down to watch what she was doing. She picked each string before strumming them all at once. “Like that?”

“Perfect,” Liam smiled.

Croía glanced over at him at the same moment Liam looked at her. Her heart was racing as they stared at one another for a long moment before she dropped his gaze, feeling her cheeks blush as she fought back a smile. Liam subtly grinned, looking back down at the guitar to show her a little more.

****

The sound of heels clicking against the marble floor softly echoed in the corridor. Once at her destination, she knocked on the closed door, waiting for the ok to enter. When she heard his voice, she opened the door and stepped inside, offering a smile. “Hello, darling.”

Constantine looked up from his desk and smiled warmly at his wife. “Hello.”

Eleanor walked over to him, leaning down to kiss his cheek before setting a small stack of papers on his desk in front of him. “The updated budget for Valtoria you asked for.”

“Thank you, dear.” Constantine gestured to the seat across from him. “I was just thinking, why don’t I call and have them bring lunch to the terrace for us.”

“That sounds perfect. I’m starving.” Running her hands down the back of her dress to tuck it, Eleanor lowered herself into the chair. Constantine nodded before placing a call to have lunch prepared. When he hung up the phone, Eleanor looked at him warily. “Have you heard anything …”

Constantine met his wife’s gaze, knowing what she was referring to. “No,” he shook his head. “No one has heard so much as a peep about Drakovia. But we know that’s not unusual.”

“What do you make of it?” Eleanor asked.

“I’m not sure.” Constantine halfheartedly smiled, noticing the worry in his wife’s features. “Let’s not get ourselves all worked up. It could be absolutely nothing for all we know.”

“I just worry …” Eleanor sighed. “Especially with Liam spending time with the one. He doesn’t know what we know.”

“We’re not even certain of what we know; we’ve only had mere suspicions over the years,” Constantine replied. “And as far as Liam spending time with her, they’re simply working on an assignment together, dear. He has no choice,” he said confidently. “I assure you, it’s nothing more than that.”

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cornus27florida · 10 months

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Leelathae (Queen Lilyth)'s Ghost Theory

I honestly want to write much longer but held back because brainrot currently (anxiety attack and very unfocused even doing what I like, my Coping escape mechanism failed in the face of looking red deadline IRL) - enough about me!

Just wanna share my theory that actually the first theory that I wrote in Discord but never share here at CPC BLR. The statement of theory

"What if another 'off-comment' from Frederick becomes big plot point, with the following pieces shown that the item (confirmed Potrait) that Leland stole more than decade ago from Pastel Palace - actually keep Leelathae's soul/spirit/ghost and could help Gwen?" Confirmed in the Unhappily-ever-after episodes

The other thing that I could see happen im the future which is the remain episodes of CPC is, (see after the following 2 images) Lilyth's ghost seeps in Gwen's dream as 'warm and glowy' entity yet not only reminder that Gwen and her are beautiful in their own way, pointing out how similar their interaction with their romantic loved ones (Jack and Frederick) - Lilyth'll shown Gwen that none all her faults, everyone loves her espc Frederick shown to genuinely loves her instead Gwen's initial thought that he never loves her

I wonder how LambCat incorporate with CPC main theme of "self-love" as some still iffy or rightfully concerned with tethering self-opinion of Gwen to Frederick's opinion, but I hope this the right step! Already imagined the scene of Gwen found her mother in the Crystal room of Jamie's Art Show thus the Summarized content of Lilyth's diary told to her which helps Gwen more confidence w/ herself

^ Episode 6 and 48 reference, we know from newest free pass episode it become huge foreshadowing of the "haunted Potrait"

Somehow I feel Lilyth is like Nadeshiko Kinomoto from Cardcaptor Sakura, the mother of the MC Sakura Kinomoto. Nadeshiko passed away from long time ago but she keep her Family safe as 'a ghost' - somehow I think Lilyth kind of like that ghost

^ This is Nadeshiko, she and Lilyth both have wavy hair and being a "ghost" 0.0

I have Faith in LambCat to make beautiful ending for CPC there! And being a ghost often time could give warm and glowy feeling espc to the family members - instead scared

^ The part of the CPC webtoon banner seen on mobile / LINK image

Could it be that Leelathae's ghost will meet when Gwen in this part of her future dreamscape.. the Crystal Room of Jamie's Art Show? Another foreshadowing from LambCat? Gwen already wrote her mom's robe in dream

^ If this become another foreshadowing? From the CPC OST VOL. 10

P.S: The What-If

Tbh Leland perfect ending for him pay his karma to me -> Him cursed to swapped place with Leelathea to be trapped in the potrait instead (the only downside is the witch's term)

Like what if No one will ever listen to home ever again (like someone that considered going senile) - while all his Family members then finally free from him (with Isolde help career of LeoMie in road of beauty of the food, when she's finally free means she could do anything + I hope she back to emo style again, it really suits her ngl ) + (In the end, Frederick officially supporting CPC that become public [my theory of CPC ending, one of ideal but could be dangerous-thou-I-believe-they-can-manage-it] and happily ever after with Gwendolyn) + (sorry for Blaine and Lance fans there, but I think they're best if going therapy Whitney-style goes to the monastery - it simple life but bet free of toxicity that they're keep exposed too long) .. also idk Jack and Leland resolution, but Jackie also need to get his 'bubble' pop off and waking up to reality -> that he doing the very thing that he hates everyone's expectation to him, to his own daughters

#cpc #spoiler #theories #cursed princess club #me back with theory #actually it my oldest in reddit based discord server but I remember never share in Tumblr #cardcaptor sakura reference #spirit or ghost lore

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special-bc-ur-part-of-it · 1 year

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kiss prompt 23 pleasee

hi sorry this took a little while to get to, life happened

anyway, here's:

23: ...in relief

One final project stands between Kurt and his degree. He just needs to finish this essay, present his pieces at the student design showcase on Friday, and then—

And then his computer crashes. Shit. He probably should have been paying more attention to the loud whirring noise making it sound like his laptop was trying to take flight, or the fact that he had about 10 other tabs open, or the battery percentage steadily dropping, or when was the last time he’d hit save?, or the fact that he’d been working for hours and now it was half past one in the morning and he’d been awake since some ungodly hour this morning and—. And he needs to take a deep breath and calm down before he spirals further.

So his computer crashed. That’s fine, computers do that sometimes. He’ll just plug the charger into it, start it back up, and hope that all his work that he just spent hours on is still there. He’s not sure what he’ll do if his work isn’t there when his computer reboots.

When the computer reboots and he gives it a minute to load whatever it’s going to load, and it’s just his normal desktop screen, that tips him over the edge. He lets his head thunk back against his wall and covers his face with his hands as the breakdown tears start falling.

Maybe he somehow woke Blaine up, or maybe it’s that weird semi-psychic link they swear they have after being roommates for the last 3 years, but for whatever reason it is, Blaine comes into his room to ask (through a yawn) “What are you still doing up?” which is then followed by “What’s wrong?” once he sees him in tears.

Kurt spills out “I’ve been working on my final project all day, and I was so close to finishing it, and then my computer crashed, and I don’t think any of my work saved so now it’s just gone and– and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I worked so hard on all of it, and it’s just gone.”

Blaine nods, then responds “Let me see your laptop.”

“What?”

“Let me see it,” Blaine repeats, sitting cross-legged on Kurt’s bed. He passes his laptop over to Blaine.

“Well,” Blaine starts after a minute, “I think what happened is that you are a little too sleep-deprived to remember to restore your session, because all of your work is still right here, just as practically perfect as I’m sure it was before.”

“Oh my god,” Kurt mutters into his hands, partially relieved and partially upset at himself for not remembering to just restore his session. “Oh my god. Thank you, you are the best roommate ever. I could kiss you right now.”

“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you?” Blaine says it like a challenge. And Kurt’s not completely sure what comes over him (because he has a very strict personal rule about not kissing his roommate, no matter how much he might want to) but he does. He kisses Blaine and Blaine kisses him back and it reminds him just how long he’s wanted to do this for.

When they break apart, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for” even slips out of his own mouth.

Blaine smiles as he says “Would you think I was crazy if I said I felt the same?”

“Not at all.” And Blaine’s lips are back on his own, and this time he thinks he actually breathes a sigh of relief into the kiss.

and here's: kisses list and more kisses here

OH PS: if you haven't already, you should go read @rockitmans and @little-escapist 's takes on this same prompt! they are here and here, respectively

#iz's writing #kisses prompts #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #anon #answered

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merinelsa · 11 months

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Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang Fic: Breaking Bonds

Author: @merinelsa

Artist: @very-kurtious

Prompt Provided by: @redheadgleek

Pairing(s): Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 839 ( more to come )

Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones , Mike Chang , Rachel Berry , Burt Hummel , Blaine Anderson’s Father , OC

Summary: Kurt has always viewed his chosen soulmate as something he could use to escape from this homophobic hellhole . as someone he could finally have who he could be open with and one who truly understands him . His dreams of finally being able to live his true self comes to a standstill as he discovers that his soulmate wants to break their bond . How was he going to find his way to freedom now that his only hope wants to break their connection ? Blaine is absolutely furious to discover that he has been assigned a soulmate. He is a romantic at heart and believes in love, but he wants to fall in love naturally, not somebody that some government officials has assigned. Though with a little hesitation, as Kurt agrees to Blaine’s search for a solution and start working close together, feelings start to develop that both were not anticipating . Would they be able to forego these emotions and continue in their desired path or would the quest for breaking their bond bring them even closer to each other?

Genre/Tropes: Alternate Universe - soulmates , slow burn , strangers to slight indifference to friends to lovers , will add further tags as i go through the story

Warnings: brief homophobia/mentions of homophobia ( the chapter does start with it )

author’s note : the fic has not been completed yet . i do hope to give a weekly update but let’s wait for life to give that luxury . this is a very short first chapter which is only going to increase in word count as we go through further chapters . this is my first time ever writing a fic so please do be patient with me as i figure it all out . Many a thanks to my artist who provided with such a gorgeous artwork and to the prompt provider who gave me such an interesting concept to work with . hope i get to do these artists’ work justice . And lastly , thank you to @the-lima-bean folks for your support and for always being there to satisfy my queries

READ ON AO3 .

#klainepromptreversebang2023 #kprb2023 #klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanart

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randomgentlefolk · 1 year

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CPC CHAPTER 145

Not the prison break I was expecting, but it's the best prison break I've ever seen XD

They finally found him!! Or well at least where he is. And damn Frederick :( Someone give him therapy fr. He really needs one. I'm so glad the LeoMieCake found him on time because.. imagine what he would've done if they hadn't found him.. You know, isolation can really do some stuffs to you, especially if you've gone through some trauma/experience that can cause your emotions to be unstable. That's why I've been so worried about Frederick since it was revealed he was imprisoned in the that hole by Leland.

LAVERNE 😭 I know she's been pretty hated since the punishment episode, but damn gotta thank her right now. You know, I've been curious about the architecture of the Plaid Kingdom because I was thinking "That's a hole.. but it has a holey roof..??? Where the heck is this dungeon located in exactly?" And now I got my answer. Imagine being the maid/butler just cleaning around like "that hole over there? Yeah that's normal it's for flood"

Isolde :( I can heavily relate with running away from problems and just sitting back. And man I'm so happy Isolde talked to Frederick too and even apologized for using him to ruin Leland's plan. Gosh damn this whole family is in such a bad state just because Leland is so petty. I will never get over that. Also aw man too bad Frederick didn't listen to Isolde :') he could've learn so much.. but that's just him, haha. That one determination that you got out of nowhere causing you to block everything out, I feel that.

IS FREDERICK GOOD? He got— he got hit IN THE HEAD, with a big rock. Bro are you good bro? That could've cause a concussion or worse.

Bro is so determined, he didn't even think about pulling himself up instead of trying to pull the whole bars down 😭

Heck yeah! Laverne saved the day! Gotta thank Whitney fr. Also Frederick lmao that gala costume was really foreshadowing huh? I wonder what Lance's gala costume is foreshadowing.. (i hope it's something silly and not him getting actually hurt)

Wait.. He's gonna go to the Pastel Kingdom with Laverne.. Does that mean he's gonna go to cpc too?! OH NO, WHITNEY! RUN, BRO! RUN FROM LAVERNE.

...damnn Blaine... Idk if I'm rooting for you or not. On one hand, poor fangirl. On the other hand, she IS kinda creepy ngl. That was kinda deserved. But dang bro.

YES! The pastel siblings MUST read Leelathae's diary! Maybe they will read it to Gwen in her sleep? Also, one statement caught my eye

Is this.. Is this legit? Is this going to foreshadow what is going to happen in the future? I haven't seen someone talk about this so please tell me if you have any theory about this.

Oh??? What could this be? A divorce? Another sneak into Leland's office? Will it be something serious or silly?

That's all for now. Uh, I'm very VERY sorry for uploading this really late. For some reason I've been feeling very numb lately. But I'm sure I'll get better so don't worry ^_^

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts)

#cursed princess club #cpc

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cryscendo · 4 months

Text

Tagged by @kurtsascot — tysm for tagging me, i know i can always count on you! <3

It being the final day of 2023 actually gives me a lot of room to reflect, so i’ m really appreciative of that. I started into this fandom at the beginning of the year, but it wasn’t until around May when I started the “Kurt Hummel in every performance” series (some of y’all were here from all the way back then which is so crazy to me). That series took me over half a year to complete, but I did finish it in late November (thank god).

I’ve been exploring different mediums in which to create for this fandom, but I was always hesitant to start writing in this fandom for some reason. Despite being a published author (not referring to self published ao3 works), I was always nervous about writing again. I’m glad I did though, and I hope to continue to write more in the new year!

I have gained a lot of cool mutuals this year, and I hope I can extend those relationships to being even closer friends over time! (I need more Glee friends in general. irl doesn’t really offer me much to work with)

But enough of that, here is an excerpt from chapter 2 of the prohibition fic. It’s longer than six sentences bc I’m simply not one for brevity (clearly lol)

~~~

Kurt rubbed at his eyes, pulling his attention away from the mess of bills before him to exhaustedly look towards the ceiling. He could feel a headache stirring, pushing against his skull like something was trying to break free.

You shouldn’t grind your teeth so much. That level of tension will only age you.

An obnoxiously condescending voice rang through his head. As much as he loathes to admit it, he can still feel the phantom sensation of Blaine’s fingertips on his face. Kurt wanted to believe that there was nothing inherently dangerous about the touch, but he knew better. Blaine Anderson was a dangerous man, and Kurt could venture a guess that every second of their interaction from the evening before was made up of ill intent. It always felt as though if these types of things were going to happen to anybody, it would be Kurt. He had a truly unnatural ability to be in the direct line of fire no matter the situation. If he was generous about it, he would like to say that his stroke of unfortunate luck began in high school. However, the realist in him would argue that he has been fighting a losing battle since early childhood. He wasn’t really all that old when he realized he was a homosexual, and things seemed to only spiral downhill from there.

Even through his frustration, he finds himself loosening the pressure in his jaw. It was almost instantaneous that a fraction of the growing tension in his skull seemed to release.

Perhaps Mr. Anderson was right about one thing.

Or rather, apparently more than one. But he cannot allow himself to safely entertain that line of thinking.

~~~

#My wips #klaine #my stuff #my fics #six sentence sunday #i know i can be my own worst critic at times and this is certainly no exception #I just have a need to produce the best content that i am able

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