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klaineccfanficlibrary · 3 years

Note

i should’ve been more specific i’m so sorry! i meant aesthetically pleasing as in, the setting, like, beautiful to imagine and that follows a certain “theme” (ex. beach, winter with snow, vintage/retro, etc.) hope you got that?

Under the cut are fics based in an aesthetically pleasing setting. There are three fic recs for each category: Summer, Winter, USA, and International. Happy Reading! - HKVoyage

SUMMER

Rose Island Romance (or, "Cute Boys Don't Grow On Trees But They Do Like to Sail") by @flowerfan2

AU. Exhausted from city life, and frustrated at his inability to get a good part in summer stock, NYADA student Kurt Hummel decides to spend the summer on a small New England island helping his uncle at Hummel Marine. When a cute boy in a tight polo shirt brings in his outboard engine for repairs, Kurt begins to think that summer on the sleepy island might hold some excitement after all.

Note: Also check out How Deep Is The Ocean by the same author.

~~~~~

The Beach House by Cleverboots

Kurt is rushing home in a thunderstorm and finds a small boy cowering in fear from the storm.

Blaine goes to pick up his son from daycare only to find they have left him behind when the storm hit.

Can one little boy reunite two estranged lovers who have lost their way in the world? A trip to an isolated beach house on the coast of Maine might be the answer they’re looking for.

~~~~~

Between the Moon and New York City by jackabelle73

Kurt arrives in a small coastal town in North Carolina to join his dad and Carole for a few days of their vacation, but under duress. He can't imagine that this sleepy southern town has anything to offer him...till a very attractive local goes jogging by on the beach.

WINTER SETTINGS

Perfectly Imperfect by Catcat85

Golden Globe winning actor, Blaine Anderson went to prison for a murder he did not commit. After 5 long years, he has escaped from prison, and in a desperate need to get to a safe house before he can leave the country; he kidnaps Kurt, and forced him to drive him to a secluded cabin nestled in between the snowy mountains in Vermont. For Blaine, it’s his last chance for freedom. Falling in love is the last thing on Blaine’s mind. It’s not part of the plan. And for Kurt, it’s a terrifying situation that disrupts the impeccably perfect life he has created for himself. He’s outraged and angry at Blaine, and yet; he can’t help but believe Blaine is innocent.

Will the truth finally come out and Blaine be exonerated? Will the FBI catch him and put him back in prison? Will he and Kurt fall in love even in the most hopeless situation? Will love truly prevail all at the end?

Based on the novel, Perfect, by Judith McNaught. This is a story about two men who are complete opposites from one another; and yet, they complete each other in a perfectly imperfect way.

~~~~~

There's no such place by pene

When Kurt lost the things he loved the most, he hid himself away from the world - until the night Blaine crashed into his life.

This is an AU. A snowbound cabin romance. And a story where Kurt and Blaine never met, until they did.

~~~~~

The Holiday by afterthenovels

A Klaine AU for the movie “The Holiday” with Kurt as Amanda and Blaine as Graham:

Kurt trades homes for the holidays because he wants to get away from his life for a while. But the last thing he expects to meet in the quiet English town he’s staying in is someone like Blaine.

Inspired by this gifset.

USA SETTINGS

Anderson’s Thick Maple Honey by coopchels [PDF] or [Epub]

Kurt meets Blaine at a farmer’s market in the city, and soon Kurt is whisked away to a life he never would have imagined for himself.

~~~~~

Sotto Voce by GSJwrites

Wine critic Kurt Hummel can make or break careers with his column for Taste Magazine. But when his publisher orders him to spend a year profiling rising stars of California’s wine country and organizing a competition between the big name wineries of Napa and the smaller artisan wineries of Sonoma, his world gets turned upside-down by an enigmatic young winemaker who puts art before business.

~~~~~

Bound For Glory by Cleverboots (Amberlovesocean)

Kurt is assaulted after singing at a school dance and is left for dead, thrown aboard an empty train car at the railroad freight yard to hide the crime.

He wakes up to find he’s been tossed off the car somewhere in an Oregon logging camp, 2500 miles from home. A curly-haired kid named Blaine finds Kurt and protects him by hiding him in his cabin and teaching him how to survive.

Note: Part 1 of the Glory series

INTERNATIONAL SETTINGS

Domus Civita by @jayhawk-writes

While on vacation to a city he's never been to, Kurt Hummel finds himself in a place that he recognized from his dreams. The person he always sees in those dreams is there, too, and they spot him and ask, “Is it really you?”

Note: Part of In Every Lifetime series

~~~~~

Lost With You by stuckontheground [PDF]

When Kurt Hummel goes to Paris over the summer as a graduation gift, he's afraid that he's going to be all alone in the City of Love. Little does he know, a chance meeting in a cafe will change his life forever.

~~~~~

The Seduction by @hkvoyage

Venetian Blaine arrives at Carnival’s masquerade ball, looking for his next conquest. His reputation as a lover is legendary, and no one can resist him. Virgin Kurt captures his attention, but seducing him will require careful planning. As they spend time together, will Blaine be able to carry out his plan successfully? A historical Klaine AU set in 18th-century Venice.

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luvtessascott · 4 years

Text

BOTB Finale (write-up) & Video Links

Last Thursday, I got to attend the battle of the blades finale with @danelledo at Maple Leafs Gardens in Toronto. Of course as you guys know VM were guest judges :) We got to the venue early since Danielle was working and they had all of the audience members wait in line to be shuffled in. They were v serious about the whole thing, shuffling us SO slowly from one holding line to the next as more ppl arrived. The staff were communicating via walkie talkie about when they could let us in down to the ‘90 seconds’ mark--hilarious idk why they’re so serious about it considering we sat in our seats for like over an hour and a half before filming started.

They had the picture of Tessa and Scott from Western on the screen for a bit, I’m unsure why because they never addressed it. During that long waiting process, Tessa and Scott came out to film a promo for the show. Scott was in a gorg jacket and Tessa in her two piece suit; it was SO sparkly. Scott and the production guy were helping Tessa shuffle out on the ice in like killer heels, it was pretty cute LOL ;)

When the judges were announced, Scott was in hockey skates and Tessa in her regular skates and there was lots of cheering from the audience. I had a feeling there was a far amount of VM fans there.

They had a little intro with the show skaters where they all got to skate together, it was fun with lots of bops-- I want to learn the choreo haha. We were pretty certain Kaitlyn and Sheldon were going to win but I loved Natalie Spooner and Andrew Poje and I was wishing they’d win. I thought the costumes were SO nice-- YAY Matthieu! They did this WHOLE TEN MINUTE Frozen II promo which was just HILARIOUS. They had Kaitlyn as Elsa and Violetta as Ana and Andrew coming in to be Kristoff. Danielle and I were joking we’re at Disney on ice, mind you, Kaitlyn Weaver is a perfect Elsa. The night overall had a lot less skating than I expected. I thought that each of the finalist would at least get to skate a bit but no such luck. Also Kaitlyn and Andrew skating together was only in the promo. There was also a lot of videos-- mostly like skaters stories and then them meeting with their charities. Also Kurt came out to skate this solo which was hella hyped up before every commerical break. And then his solo was like tricks spliced together with him just skating around. Like sir did you get prep time for this.

I thought it was cute that in the video when some one said “Wake up Canada” Tessa did the WAKE UP thing to Scott. LOL he’ll never live that moment down. They were chatting as usual on and off during breaks. They both went over to meet the cast from that show (yikes i don’t even remember what show). They also went over to see Brian Orser and Nam. Scott talked to Brian for a bit longer than Tessa did.

When they announced the winner Tessa got to give the flowers. When Natalie was talking about Fast and Female, all I could think was that Tessa is probably living for this because it’s everything that she supports that’s Natalie was preaching. We stan strong female women! Speaking of which at the end of the show I managed to meet Natalie. Danielle took my picture with her. I totally rambled and told her that I was a big fan and thought it was so cool that she was balancing hockey and doing the show because it must have taken a lot of effort. And she said that it was challenging but so worth it. Then I said “This is going to sound really weird, but I loved watching you on the Amazing Race.” She totally laughed and said “oh yeah that was fun” and I said “yeah you guys were great, I loved watching you.” Then we took our pic and I said thanks and bye. LMAO I was so jittery she was SO TALL and like looked all done up in her show make up so it was a bit intimidating but she was really nice.

(This whole thing is just terrible run on sentences Oops!)

Video links here: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

#BOTB Finale #write up #my experience

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orionwhispers · 6 years

Text

Devil Like Me (Part VI)

(A/N- What can I say other than I am so sorry this took forever, this is the juiciest chapter yet and I loved writing it! I can't wait for you all to see where their relationship progresses and thank you so much for the love! Enjoy this late Christmas present! Thank you for being so patient xoxo)

Then

The sky was dark as you traced your fingertips over the rim of your mug. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, grimacing as the cool milky texture hit your tongue. You gently rubbed the delicate area by your eyes, now red and swollen from lack of sleep. This had become a yearly tradition, curling up in a blanket by the bay windows and taking solace in your own silence.

The alarm clock changed numbers alerting you to how early it was, the red digits intruding in the comfort of your small bedroom. You gently fingered the fragrant needles of the small Christmas tree to your left and smiled inwardly. Aunt Jean always tried to make the house as festive as possible. Determined not to allow either of you to be dragged into the gloom that surrounded you both this time of year. You traced the gold ornament placed on the branches, in the centre a dog-eared photo of your parents. Your mother clutching your toddler frame, bare-faced and smiling widely, your father's tattooed arm swung around her neck, lips pressed against her cheek.

You rose to your feet, pulling thick sweatpants and a jumper over your mismatched pyjamas. Slipping your feet into a pair of worn converse, you gave Maple a kiss and reached for the doorknob. Lying directly behind your door was a little red stocking stuffed with presents and your heart tugged. When you were younger you were green with envy at the other children who spent Christmas with their families, picture perfect with bundles of expensive gifts and gadgets. But as soon as you came home and saw Aunt Jean with her frail hands attempting to roast a turkey - then giving up and you both munching on frozen pizza-, you realised you had so much to be grateful for.

You tried your best to be quiet, purposefully darting across the floorboards you knew were the least creaky as you passed your great Aunts bedroom. You paused momentarily and listened for her steady breathing. Earlier, when you had passed her bedroom, you had heard tearful sniffles and you were glad that they were now replaced with snores.

The bitter air slammed against your face as soon as you opened the front door, you shivered further into yourself as you began trudging through the thin layer of sleet lining the pavements. It was still dark, barely past 5 am and the only light was the dim yellow glow of the street lamps. Rain was pattering around you and a gust of winter wind sent a slew of raindrops down your face and neck. You paced the familiar route you could have done in your slumber, passing sleepy houses strewn with Christmas lights and decorations, filled with children giddily excited about what Santa will have brought them in the night.

The wind started to pick up as you clambered the final slope towards the beach. You could already hear the roar of the ocean and hurried towards the wooden deck above the coast, pulling your jacket over your shoulders as you walked towards the edge of the water. The waves were violent, rising and rumbling before crashing into the grey sand at your feet. You let out a gasp you didn't know you had been holding and allowed a few tears to slip out of the corner of your eyes.

It had been 14 years.

You mother was called Judith, petite, beautiful and immensely kind. Aunt Jean said she warmed the hearts of everyone she met. She grew up in the south of Florida and was an only child to a devout Catholic family. Only in the past few years had you been able to coax the truth out of Aunt Jean, with the help of a bottle of aged whiskey and a box of chocolate liquors. In a drunken haze she spilt her guts when you pressed her for answers, she told you of how her older sister- your grandmother, Eden, had been fair when she was a child but as she grew older she became bitter. She married young to someone Aunt Jean described as "A mean, violent man who used his faith as a cover for his hateful acts."

They were approaching 50 when Eden fell pregnant and when Judith was born she was never really allowed a childhood, she was beaten if she disobeyed orders and rarely allowed to leave the house. Aunt Jean tearfully told you how she tried to look after your mother and would try her best to sneak her gifts of chocolate and toys. But when Eden found out she cut all contact with her, furious at the thought that Jean didn't think of her as a good mother. By the time she was 15 Judith rebelled, and often snuck out of her house, which was where she met your father, Kurt.

Kurt was 17, with long hair and an abundance of piercings, he worked at his uncle's tattoo parlour having dropped out of school the previous year. The two met and fell helplessly in love, and soon your mother fell pregnant. Aunt Jean told you that Judith called her from a payphone when she found out, crying with happiness at the chance of a new life, but terrified of what her parents would think.

As expected, they were furious, angry and violent, and immediately disowned her. Telling her that she was never allowed back in their house as long as she lived. Kurt was good, he was overjoyed at becoming a father, and saved up for a small apartment where you spent your early childhood. You can hardly recall much of that part of your life, but you know it was full of love and happiness and you cherished it entirely.

When you were three, everything changed.

Your parents were driving late on Christmas Eve, their old rusty car filled with presents and food for the next day, whilst you were left at home with a babysitter. Whilst driving down a small street, a drunk driver slammed into their vehicle and killed them both. Just like that, your entire world was tipped over by someone else's careless decision.

When the police turned up at their door, your grandparents were indifferent, as if they were being told a stranger had been killed, rather than the girl they had raised. When told they had left a daughter behind, they closed the door and refused to even know what you had been called. Telling the police you should go into foster care, that they would have nothing to do with you.

That's where Aunt Jean came in, she took you under her wing immediately, filed the paperwork to make her your legal guardian and treated you like you were her own. She attended every school play, taught you how to ride a bike and tie your shoelaces, and gave you everything she possibly could. She was the only family you had, but you loved each other fiercely.

The sky was brightening slightly, and you knew soon the sun would start to trickle through the clouds. You steadied your feet on the sand, watching the water lap at the rubber soles of your shoes. You felt a movement behind you, but you didn't need to turn around, you knew who it was. He approached cautiously from behind, trudging on the gritty earth, he stood at your side, his shoulder almost brushing yours. He turned to face you but you kept staring out into the distance, watching a flock of seagulls in the sky. You could feel his glance on your face, focusing on the tear stains reflecting on your cheeks, his eyes flitting to yours, brows slightly furrowed. You stayed put, too tired and emotional to react, and he must have sensed that, drawing a cold breath and turning towards the ocean. You both stayed like that, comfortable in silence, watching the sunrise over the shores, basking you both in its warmth.

Now

You paced along the mahogany floor, bare feet squeaking on the panels as you traced your fingers along the row of dusty books. When you had awoken, to your surprise, the door was hanging wide open. You almost tripped over your own feet as you raced down the hallway and onto the second floor, it was only when you reached the staircase to the ground level that you smacked into an invisible barrier sending you flying backwards. But, hey, at least you were no longer stuck in the single room.

You had spent the majority of the morning exploring the rooms you had access to, so far you had examined two extravagant additional quarters adjacent to yours and now, the library. And you were only on the top floor.

You would be lying if you said you weren't absentmindedly searching for signs of him, maybe a book he had once read lying on its side, the ring from an old mug of tea on the expensive furniture. But there was nothing, it was entirely bland. You knew that the families rooms were on the floor below, but you were too nervous and admittedly, to full of pride, to go and scour them.

Deep in your thoughts, a commotion from downstairs sprung you out of your own head. Slowly, you paced below, tuning into your heightened hearing to listen to the voices. You followed them down a hallway, to another grand staircase you didn't even know existed and took residence on the top step, gaping in awe at the beautiful ballroom it towered over. Underneath, a group of who you gathered to be event organisers were coating the impressive room with decorations and tables of food. Stretching out your toes, cringing as they slightly pushed against the slab of air, you knew that this was a party you wouldn't have the privilege of attending.

Your eyes immediately caught his frame entering the room, messy hair and a glass of whisky in his hand. You rolled your eyes, it was barely 10 am.

"What's the occasion?" You asked, quirking your brows and alerting him to your position.

He turned to you, his lips upturning into a small smirk as his eyes flicked to yours, before he shifted back, seemingly unbothered by your presence. Neither of you acting like last nights incident had occurred.

“Business meeting.”

“Awfully extravagant for a business meeting, don’t you think?” You quipped.

He faced you again, leaning on one arm and taking a confident swig of his drink, “Well, you know me,” he traced the marble above the fireplace behind him, eyes locking to yours. “I’ve always had a touch for the finer things.”

You bit back a smile and crossed your arms, watching the people down below as they uncomfortably continued work, pretending they weren't engrossed in your strange conversation.

“I'm guessing I’m not on the invite list?”

He let out a snort and waved you off, “I think your stunt proved that I can hardly trust you, doesn’t it?”

“Well, it seems to have worked considering I’m no longer locked away.” You gestured to the grand hall before you and the distance between you both.

“Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.” He muttered and you snorted, Klaus was hardly running for person of the year.

“What’s wrong? Don’t want me to meet your friends? Afraid I’ll embarrass you? ” You joked, but it seemed to hit a sore spot in him, whatever tiny crack you had manage to chip away at was being built straight back up again.

“I doubt they’d be impressed if I went to introduce you only to find you had run away again.” His tone was cold and it hit right through you, he wasn't being fair but he didn't care. Without another word he gestured something to the workers and left, not bothering to look back at you.

An hour or so later you were back in bed sulking, flipping through the pages of a women’s magazine you weren't interested in. You hadn't seen Sebastian since the previous day, your food delivered by a gruff man who made it clear he didn't care for you. You really wished you could apologise to him, he was nice and didn't deserve to be used as a scapegoat.

“Not feeling sorry for yourself are you?”

Immediately recognising the voice, you leapt up and ran into the arms of the blonde beauty who kissed you on both cheeks and squeezed you tight.

“Bekah!”

“Y/N!”

You giggled as you took her in, she was as stunning as ever, tall and confident and she smiled at you, eyes shining.

“I missed you so much, you have no idea what it’s like being surrounded by men.”

“I can imagine.”

She pulled away slowly, eyes taking in your body and then glancing around the room.

“I had no idea he was up to this.” She sighed, rubbing her forehead as if the thought alone was giving her a migraine. “But, you know Klaus. In fact, you know him better than anyone. Even Elijah.”

You looked at the floor, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed. She paced over again, deep red heels clicking on the wood floor, “Klaus can be intolerable, and even though I loathe him sometimes, you know I’m very protective.”

“Rebekah-“ You began, desperate to explain yourself.

She gave you a small smile, “Don’t. You know I love you like a sister, and I missed you terribly so. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave, it must have been so hard, I know how much you love him.”

She clapped her hands as if to shoo away the tension and linked your arm with hers, “We must catch up! I have so much to tell you!” She dragged you away, the both of you giggling like kids.

Rebekah’s room was decorated similar to her old one, the furniture was tawny and cream and the bed was thick and inviting. Bundles of expensive gowns and slips were thrown on the floor like a tornado had hit and she was stood in the centre, her blonde hair in pink rollers.

“I’m thinking this one.” She reached for an emerald green number and held it against her body, studying your reaction.

“Bekah, how many times? You’ll look amazing no matter what you wear.” You said leaning back into the pillows, head in your hands. This was the 20th dress she had shown you.

Kol chuckled next to you and nudged you with his arm “But I’ll be the most attractive one there right?”

“You wish.” You whacked him lightly and he pretended to wince,

“Ouch!” He muttered rubbing his arm exaggeratedly “Now I know why my brother has to keep you locked up.”

You gave him the finger and settled deeper into the bed, tuning out the sound of the siblings bickering about who was more attractive. You had seriously missed these two.

“So,” You started, twirling your hair around your finger, “What’s the deal with this whole ball anyway?”

Rebekah shrugged as she motioned Kol over to clasp her necklace around her throat, “Since when did we need an occasion to throw a ball?”

“Please. It’s not a Mikaelson party without an ulterior motive. Usually involving torture.”

“We just want to get to know the locals.” Kol stated, checking himself out in the full-length mirror, “Really sink our teeth into them.”

Rebekah swatted him and turned to you, watching as you rolled your eyes, you didn't believe their ploy but you couldn't be bothered to pry anymore.

“You’re not wearing that are you?” Rebekah asked lip curled up in disgust as she gestured to your slightly moth bitten pyjamas.

“I think you’re forgetting I'm not invited. On the account of the whole running away and then starving myself thing.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t look your best? Besides, I have so many gowns, it would be a shame for them to waste away in my wardrobe.”

You snorted at her attempt and frowned, “Thanks, B, but-”

She immediately cut you off, “I’m not taking no for an answer, even if you sit and sulk in your room all night at least do it in Versace! You used to be so fun, remember those nights in Paris?”

“Oh god, I can hardly remember that entire trip,” Kol muttered from the corner and Rebekah gave raised her brows at you, before smirking and dragging you into her boudoir.

You stared at yourself in front of the mirror. Running your hands over the soft burgundy lace of your dress, you swayed from side to side, observing from every angle. You could hear the distant roar of the party from downstairs, people laughing and glasses clinking. Rebekah had done well, choosing a dress she knew you couldn't refuse, a gorgeous maroon ballgown with a sweetheart neckline. But you couldn't help feeling like a child playing dress up. It had been so long since you had attended a party like this and you felt entirely overwhelmed.

You chewed your lip as you pattered along the floor, running your fingers over your collarbones absentmindedly. Half of your body was begging you to rip off the dress and climb into bed but a part of you wanted to delve back into the past. You stumbled across a small hollow in the decking of the second floor, with a perfect view of the hall. You were almost out of sight from down below, and you could comfortably rest and observe without the witch's curse stopping you.

You recognised nobody of course, but the party was filled with jubilant people. The room was bright against the black outside, lit with golden chandeliers and flickering candles. Your eyes travelled to the Mikaelson siblings, easily the most charming and eye-catching people in the room, everyone they spoke to completely enamoured by them, yourself included. You felt eyes watching you, and tried to follow them, landing on a pair of men you hadn't seen before. One was dark haired, and the other blonde, both watching you with curious eyes, whispering to one another. You felt sheepish and turned your head, embarrassed to be spotted. The sound of a spoon tapping against a glass made you look back up trying to trace the noise. Klaus was smiling, one that you knew was forced, and facing the crowd. Your heart leapt at him in his formal suit, eyes bright and hair tousled.

“Thank you all for coming tonight.” He started with a laugh “Mystic Falls is a truly wonderful town and I want to thank you all for making myself and my siblings feel so welcome.”

There was something strange about his tone and his eyes darkened slightly, focusing on something on the other side of the room. Nobody seemed to notice, but you followed his gaze back to the two men from earlier, now stood with a pretty brunette girl, all of them with a sour look on their features.

“Well I don’t want to keep you much longer, I hope you all have a wonderful night and will join us for a dance.”

The crowd all clapped and smiled, returning to mingling among themselves, some older women gushing over Klaus congratulating him on his beautiful home and party. Something inside you sparked, watching him glide across the room, laughing and joking made you miss him with your entire being. You didn’t regret leaving but my god did you miss having him on your side. You had thought about him every day since you had gone, you knew it may never get back to normal but you wanted to talk to him, to explain. You got to your feet, hitching up your dress and walking over to the staircase slowly, you couldn't go down, but maybe you could catch his attention and get him alone.

And then the lights dimmed.

Everyone in the room parted as a familiar Ed Sheeran song rang through the speakers. You watched confused as men and women linked hands and pulled one another onto the floor. The lights were hot against your bare skin as you stood at the top of the stairs staring down, the music was loud and you felt dizzy. You saw Kol and Elijah both courting women, both gliding across the floor and you lifted your hands trying to focus. You saw Rebekah with a guy and the dark haired man and woman from earlier both swaying to the beat.

Then you saw him, hands intertwined with a beautiful blonde girl. He was pulling her across the floor, telling her something, mouth by her ear, smiling and whispering. You felt like you were going to be sick. His arms were against her back and she was pressed into him, she said something and he laughed, head thrown back. You couldn’t watch anymore, not able to stop the tears flowing down your cheeks you turned and fled.

Your entire body was shaking as you choked back tears. You felt so fucking stupid. You stared up at the moon, your entire body was freezing out here on the balcony, but the cold made you feel numb. You wiped your sore eyes, grimacing at the black stains on the pads of your hands, you probably looked a mess.

“Ah, here you are. I couldn’t find you in your room, was worried you ran off again.”

“Don’t Klaus.” You snapped, still facing the sky, refusing to see him.

You heard him approaching you cautiously, fingers tracing the bare skin of your arm trying to pull you to face him but you shrugged him off.

“What on earth is the matter?” He asked before placing something on the table behind you “I thought you might like some cake.”

You spun around and watched his face contort as he took in the sight of your puffy eyes and the redness of your chest.

“How long do you plan on doing this Klaus?” You asked loudly not in control of how hysterical you sounded “This was your plan hm? To punish me? Well, congratulations you got it!”

He looked genuinely confused, “Y/N, what-” he began, reaching to wipe the tears off of your face but you slapped his hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to do that anymore Klaus.” You stated, sniffing and rubbing your eyes, “Ever since you got me here you never planned on us making up, you wanted me to be in pain. You don’t think leaving was the hardest thing I have ever done?”

His face changed, eyes darkening and teeth clenching. “You left, in the night. Like a coward. You should have fought for us.”

“I spent far too long fighting Klaus.”

He gave you an exasperated look and rubbed his head, “I loved you! I would have done anything for you. Was I not enough?”

“That’s hardly fair.” You snapped, “ I left everything I have ever known for you, you were my first love,” your voice cracked “My only love.”

You both were out of breath, exhausted and emotional. Tears were flowing freely now, hot and blinding, you could see he was uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. There was a time where you would both embrace and it felt like the world couldn't come between you, but now neither of you knew where you stood.

“Leave me alone Klaus. I mean it. I'm so fucking tired.” You groaned, holding your head in your hands and stumbling into a seat, sniffling into your palms. He stared at you, so badly wanting to comfort you, to talk to you, to fight for you. But his pride was too strong, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and spun out of the room, choosing to find comfort in a bottle of whisky. Leaving you in tears and alone.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikealson imagine #klaus imagine #tvd imagine #TVD #klaus fic #writing

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bassclarinetprincess · 6 years

Note

Emperor, temperance

Hi, I’ve been on vacation so I’m only just now getting around to this! Sorry!

Emperor (What are some names that you like?) -- Ever since I read the short story “Harrison Bergeron” by Kurt Vonnegut, I’ve been really into the first name Harrison/middle name Bergeron combo. Other names I like: Benjamin (combined with almost anything), Autumn Louise, Mia Haven, there’s a shit ton of names I like for characters I’m writing but I’m not telling you anything about them srry.

Temperance (Can you describe a strange dream you’ve had)? -- OK so I can’t remember any of my dreams anymore. BUT when I was taking Zoloft (senior year of high school-freshman year of college) I had the wackiest dreams, and I kept track of them. Here is one from January 15, 2015:“OK. This dream was a wild ride. I was on a road trip with @momqueer (who was driving), Joelle, @katiewithaquestionmark, @fsrialnvcieas, and Leah to All-State Band auditions. From Minnesota to Missouri, for some reason? So we get to Kansas City after stopping at a steakhouse to buy meat, and Emery is driving erratically the whole way but especially in Kansas City. They are driving donuts in the Worlds of Fun (that’s an amusement park in KC) parking lot, and Katie has been freaking out this whole time. They pull up to the admission booth thing and spin away on a dime. The guy working stops us and we freak out knowing we will be in trouble. Emery parks the van in a secluded spot under some maple trees and we enter the park to speak with the manager. A girl speaks to us first and tells us that in punishment for our antics we will be cleaning clam dung from a pool. We get to the pool, don’t see any clams, and jump in. The manager comes over, angry, and makes us jump out and stand in line. He begins to lecture us with very sexist remarks about how women shouldn’t get in trouble. Then he begins to cry and lets us go with some merchandise, Harry Potter costumes and props. We walk to the van (I get lost on the way) and immediately burst out laughing at how lucky we were.I then make plans to use this to get free Worlds of Fun passes so I can go sometime with my uncles, and I text Mitchell (one of my uncles, if that’s not clear). When my parents hear about it they are appalled that we got away with it and that I have no remorse.”There’s pages and pages of weird and vivid dreams like that. IDK.

Thanks for the ask, and if you want to know anything else here’s the tarot asks!

#ask #anon #Anonymous

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lady-divine-writes · 6 years

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Klaine one-shot - “Dangerous Liaisons” (Rated NC17)

Blaine has a secret he's keeping from Kurt. During what should be a normal Friday night dinner with friends and family, Blaine plans something that might literally change everything. (2768 words)

A/N: This is a re-write featuring contract killer!Blaine. Mention of blood and killing, but nothing too gory. It's funny in a dark sort of way. I hope you enjoy it <3

Notes:

Read on AO3.

The oven timer goes off just as Kurt positions a piece of lavender fondant over the second tier of a five tiered maple walnut cake – Burt Hummel’s absolute favorite. But this version Kurt made with only egg whites to cut down on the cholesterol and applesauce instead of sugar. This way his father can indulge without going off his diet.

Kurt, too.

“Blaine! Honey!” Kurt calls, carefully laying the fondant down. He frowns when all that answers him is silence. “Blaine! Can you come in here and help me please?”

Footsteps clamor down the staircase that leads from the upper level to the living room. Half a second later, Blaine races in, dressed for dinner in slate grey slacks and a white, button-down shirt. The door swings on its hinges as he crosses the kitchen and grabs a set of pot holders hanging off the knob handle of one of the cabinets.

“Upper oven or lower oven?” he asks, dancing in front of the glass doors.

“Upper.” Kurt sighs with deep, spiritual satisfaction as the fondant drapes perfectly. “The pinwheels are ready.”

“You made pinwheels?” Blaine giggles with childish glee. “You know they’re my favorite!”

Blaine slips the quilted pot holders on his hands and pulls the top oven door open. He breathes in as a wave of hot air sweeps over him, carrying with it the savory smell of filet mignon stuffed with feta cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and spinach – a Kurt Hummel specialty. Kurt’s pinwheels are a linchpin in their relationship. They end fights and mend fences. Kurt and Blaine celebrate every birthday/(anti)Valentine’s Day/Christmas/Arbor Day with them. His pinwheels are one of the reasons Blaine fell in love with Kurt; not that Blaine hadn’t been completely head-over-heels the moment he saw Kurt on that fated subway ride in Manhattan more than three years ago, but this dish – this delectable, mouthwatering dish – played a big part in winning Blaine Anderson’s heart.

“Well, you said to pull out all the stops.” Kurt grabs a dish towel off the counter and wipes a sheen of sweat off his forehead. He watches Blaine balance the cookie sheet of pinwheels, looking left and right for a place to set them down. Kurt gestures to the burner covers on the stove top. “This has to be the most elaborate Friday night dinner we’ve ever planned.”

“Speaking of” - Blaine sets the hot tray down – “I have to run out really quick. I forgot to get something.”

Kurt cocks his hip and tilts his head, crossing his arms over his chest, and Blaine knows he’s in for it.

“Blaine Anderson! Everyone’s going to be here in a little less than an hour, and I haven’t even gotten dressed yet!”

“You’ll pull it off. You’re a miracle worker.”

Blaine winks. Kurt rolls his eyes and returns to his cake.

“Fine, but if I’m covered in fondant when everyone arrives, I’ll blame you.”

“Please do.” Blaine comes up behind Kurt and kisses down his neck. “Then they won’t argue when I carry you away and nibble it off.”

Kurt tries not to giggle, but he can’t help it, the image of Blaine eating lavender-tinted fondant off of his naked body both erotic and hilarious … though hilarious is winning.

“Fine, fine.” Kurt waves a hand to dismiss his boyfriend before he starts sucking on his neck and leaving marks Kurt will never have enough time to cover up. “Just be quick about it.”

“Super quick. I promise,” Blaine says, swatting Kurt on the ass as he backs away and heads out the door.

“And pick up another bottle of wine while you’re out,” Kurt calls after him.

“Red or white?”

“Red!”

Kurt sighs, looking down the length of his kitchen counter, piled high with half-decorated cookies, a pan of rising bread dough, and tray after tray of appetizers.

“Jerk,” he mutters under his breath, returning to his task with a grin growing hot on his face at the thought of what else he could get Blaine to eat off his body.

***

Blaine slips on black leather gloves as he rushes down Broadway, cutting through back alleys and keeping to the shadows to avoid being noticed. But the cloak-and-dagger stuff isn’t necessary. The sidewalks are packed with people too wrapped up in their own lives to notice another businessman in a long, black coat walking among the crowd. He keeps his coat collar popped and his eyes lowered as he weaves in and out of mobs waiting at the corners for the lights to change or huddled near a bus stop, gathered around the metal overhang to avoid the light rain that’s started to fall.

The crowd thins in the direction Blaine’s going, and he smiles.

Perfect.

He creeps behind a corner, ducking into a sheltered spot with a clear view of the store door. He sticks close to the brick wall and waits.

Any minute now, he’ll get what he came for.

His mark is a jewelry store owner – a suspected terrorist sympathizer with possible links to Al Qaeda. Blaine doesn’t know for sure. He didn’t ask questions. He’s not paid to know the details. Blaine accepted the job immediately when he heard about it. He felt it was offered to him as an act of providence. It answered a crucial question, one that he had been mulling over for months now.

This job gave him the perfect opportunity to get something that he needed.

Blaine stands stock still, eyes darting from the door, to the alley, to the street, to the buildings all around. He remains hyper-aware of his surroundings - the homeless man asleep in the alley across the way, the bodega owner on the corner sweeping his stoop, two kids riding bikes who seem way too young to be out so late. He hears the bells on the door jingle and he knows the time has come.

He counts in his head, ticking off the seconds, what’s left of his time here in the alley …

… what’s left of a stranger’s time on earth.

Footsteps approach, unhurried, shuffling slightly on the pavement, stopping for a second when the shop owner checks his pockets for his keys, and then starting again. Blaine sees an arm swing forward and he pounces, locking on to an elbow and securing a hand over his mouth before the startled man can even think to scream. Blaine drags him kicking and cursing down the alley till they’re far enough from the street to avoid being seen. Blaine isn’t too concerned with the tenants of the apartments nearby. From what he can tell, the decrepit buildings house immigrants, addicts, and elderly on fixed incomes - people who are rarely inclined to talk to the police.

Blaine tosses the man up against a brick wall, trapping him in a space between two large dumpsters. The man blinks into the darkness, and Blaine waits for his eyes to adjust so he can see his face clearly.

“Mr. … Mr. Smythe?” the man stutters in confusion. Blaine grins like the apex predator he is at the sound of his mark calling him by his pseudonym, the name of his nemesis in the game - an old friend from high school who Blaine is more than certain calls himself Mr. Anderson when he contracts out. “Was … was there something else you n-needed?”

“Yes, actually.” Blaine opens his coat. He pulls out his concealed Glock, taking a dramatic moment to fit a silencer to the barrel. The man swallows hard as Blaine stares at him amused, twisting the silencer slowly until it threads completely.

“I … I don’t understand.” The man looks from the gun to Blaine, and back to the gun.

“There’s nothing to understand,” Blaine says. “I’m going to kill you. You’re going to die.”

The man steps back, stumbling into the wall behind him, and his knees give way. He slides to the ground, his entire body shuddering uncontrollably, fear welling in his dull, brown eyes.

“P-please,” the man whimpers. “I s-swear to God, I did nothing wrong!”

“I don’t know your God,” Blaine says with a shake of his head. “But if I’m here, then chances are you did something to deserve it.”

Blaine aims his gun. The man makes a pitiful, choked sound.

“I have money,” he sniffles, bargaining with what little time he has left. “You can have it. All of it. Anything you want, I’ll give to you. I’ll …”

The man cowering on the filthy cement, pleading for his life, gets cut short by a high, lilting melody coming from somewhere in the vicinity of Blaine’s pants. Both men freeze and stare awkwardly at each other. The tune continues, then repeats, and in spite of literally looking death in the face, the shop owner chuckles.

“Is … is that from the musical Wicked?”

“Shut it!” Blaine snaps, reaching into his pocket with his free hand to find his phone. “That’s my boyfriend’s ringtone. It happens to be his favorite song.”

Blaine’s eyes flick to the screen. He notices the man on the ground out of the corner of his eye making moves to run. Blaine waves his weapon in the man’s face and points it at his head.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he warns, “I’m faster than you think,” and glances back at the screen.

From: Kurt

You’re the one that invited everyone we know in the world over here and you’re late! Where the hell are you? You’re in huge trouble, mister! Get your ass back here NOW!

From: Kurt

Don’t forget the wine.

“I won’t forget the wine,” Blaine grumbles, shoving his phone back in his pocket. The shop owner sees an opportunity. Using this distraction, he rushes Blaine and grabs for his gun. Blaine anticipates it. He knew the man would. They always do. Without flinching, Blaine fires, putting a bullet neatly through the man’s skull, right between his eyes. But instead of falling straight back, the man spins oddly, teetering on his heels. He lurches forward on twisted ankles and lands on Blaine, covering his neck and shirt in blood as he slides down Blaine’s body.

“Ugh!” Blaine groans, hopping out of the path of the dead man dropping to the cement. “Damn it!” Blaine looks at his shirt, the spatters and smudges of blood trailing down to his slacks. “Shit, shit, shit!” Blaine kicks the dead man’s shoulder in frustration. “How am I supposed to cover this up?” he asks, as if the corpse will suddenly wake and start brainstorming options.

“Fuck fuck fuck …” Blaine chants as he struggles with the body, lifting it into the dumpster with a grunt and tossing it inside. He’s not worried about the bullet lodged in the dead man’s skull. He knows the police will dig it out and trace it, and when they do, they’ll find it belongs to a Glock 23, just like his, owned by Clarissa Mildred Porter of West Fargo, North Dakota, an 89-year-old lady who passed away three years ago, and whose personal protection weapon was never recovered after her death.

Not that Blaine killed her.

No women or children – that’s a rule he lives by.

Diabetes and a long standing love of cigarettes and bacon killed her. He just ended up with her gun.

Blaine doesn’t leave the neighborhood the way he came. He still sticks to the shadows, but now he has to jump a few fences and cut through a couple of sketchy-looking backyards to make his way back to Kurt’s house in the East Village unseen.

Blaine loves Kurt’s little house. It’s more of a cottage, with vines trailing up the aging brick, its enclosed patio shrouded by the overhanging branches of a few large trees, completely obscured from the sidewalk not fifteen feet away. Blaine can’t even count the amount of times they’ve made love beneath those trees in broad daylight, outside the notice of parents walking their kids to the daycare down the street, and college kids rushing by on their way to NYU.

Blaine loves how turned on Kurt gets doing something taboo.

The house is nestled in a fairly exclusive neighborhood. Kurt swore once that he saw Michelle Williams walk by with her daughter Matilda, and even though both men agreed that they love her work in Brokeback Mountain, they were far too eager to get started on round two to throw on their clothes and find out.

Blaine looks at his ruined clothes and curses. How is he going to explain this to Kurt?

Blaine tiptoes to the back door, eyeing the sidewalk and the front of the house, watching for signs that their friends saw him approach from the side street and are running out to meet him. He opens the door and peers into the kitchen. Loud talking and boisterous laughter coming from the living room tell him that everyone they invited over for dinner tonight showed up. There’s no way he’ll be able to sneak past them without being seen. He opts for the stairs in the back of the house that lead up to the second floor balcony. They’re vintage - cast iron and in need of some repair, so they’re going to squeak like a motherfucker. But hopefully everyone is too distracted with catching up and Kurt’s delicious cooking to notice. He backs away, heading out of the kitchen on his way to the door as Kurt bustles in from the living room carrying an empty tray.

“Oh, great! Blaine!” Kurt gushes, putting down the tray on the nearest empty surface and rushing forward to greet his boyfriend. “You’re back! I …” Kurt stops dead, coming to a halt so suddenly that he trips over his own feet at the sight in front of him: Blaine -his clothes, his skin, his disheveled hair, spattered in blood. “I … I …” Kurt raises a hand to his mouth, his jaw dropped, eyes widening in horror.

“Kurt …” Blaine raises his hands, inching forward slowly, preparing for the chance that Kurt might run off “… I can explain.”

“You’re … you’re covered in bl-blood!” Kurt’s eyes rake over him from head to toe while, in his mind, he searches for the right words to express his feelings, his confusion, his anger. “You … you … you idiot! Blaine!” Kurt advances, icy blue eyes threatening to slice him apart. “You knew we were going to have a house full of people! Why did you have to go and take a job tonight?”

Kurt glares at Blaine’s soiled clothes, and the smears of blood around his collar, staining his neck. He recoils with disgust and a disapproving shake of his head.

“For Christ’s sake!” Kurt laments in a whisper harsh enough to cut glass. “Did you hit him over the head with a sledgehammer?”

Blaine opens his coat and lets Kurt see the Glock in his holster. Kurt tuts. He takes his dish towel and wraps it around Blaine’s gun, shoving it in the trash can concealed beneath the sink for the time being. He gives Blaine another once over, Blaine’s face fighting to look repentant, but darkening with lust at the way Kurt fusses over him. Kurt throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And you forgot the wine.”

Blaine snickers, leaning in to kiss Kurt’s neck, seeking out that spot that makes Kurt forgive everything.

“But I promise I brought home something better.”

Blaine’s lips barely brush Kurt’s skin when a hand to his chest stops him.

“Not now,” Kurt smirks. “We don’t have time. Go upstairs. I’ll cover for you.”

“What about my clothes?” Blaine asks, watching Kurt do a last second tidy in the kitchen, pausing to wash traces of blood off his hands.

“They’re ruined,” Kurt says definitively. “I don’t have enough pre-treater in the world to get all that out. We’ll stick them in the incinerator and get you a new outfit tomorrow.”

“Really?” Blaine asks, blown away even after all these years at how nonplussed Kurt can behave under pressure.

“Of course.” Kurt turns at the kitchen door and gives Blaine a wink. “You look hot in it.” He pushes through and returns to the gathering with not a single chestnut hair out of place.

Oh yeah, Blaine thinks, a smug smile on his face as he walks out the door and hurries up the stairs, patting his pants pocket and the tiny ring box it holds. He’s chomping at the bit for later tonight when he gets the chance to give it to Kurt. I am definitely marrying that man.

#klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #Dark!Blaine #Frankie writes

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twistednuns · 5 years

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April 2019

"Hating things: it tended to tell you who you were. Loving things rarely did." / "Joni Mitchell was sitting in the doorway, placidly licking a paw, the feline equivalent of a bitch filing her nails." // Hermione Hoby's Neon in Daylight was such a good read, I thorougly enjoyed it. Hoby has such a nice writing style. I didn't know anything about the book when I picked it up from a library shelf, I just liked the cover and the blurb. Literary luck!

More books: Kurt. I don't know what it is about Sarah Kuttner's writing but it always hits close to home. I loved the description of the old house, the garden work. It made me want to move into my grandma's house with a sad boyfriend, watering the roses with a hose on a lazy summer evening.

Cat eating corn. Feline ASMR. I also spent an evening watching all of these oddly satisfying and soothing videos.

"Training war die Gelegenheit, den Körper an Schmerzen zu gewöhnen." (Takis Würger, Der Club)

Angela Carter's writing. Her characters, her plot-twists and magical realism. Most of all her incredible language. It's the same storyline I usually tell about my closest friends - at first I hated Nights at the Circus but soon realised that I actually loved it.

Fleabag and the priest. SO hot. As well as her jumpsuits and red lipstick. And don't even get me started on Kristin Scott Thomas' guest appearance.

My first time in Canada! I only visited Québec though and had to try my best to speak French in a comprehensive manner. Random moments, things and facts to keep in mind: Diet Cherry Coke obsession / my French improving noticably; learning about the Québecois accent / that bus we took on our way to Québec - it had a lounge area in the back with leather sofas, I kept thinking that a dance pole and a fancy drink were the only things missing / veggie or even vegan-friendly restaurants like Aux Vivres, Copper Branch, Lola Rosa, La Panthère Verte and - my favourite - Momo (who make vegan sushi with their very own scents and flavours; quite floral and very intense, super delicious of course) / getting to meet Emily (thanks, Manu!) and spending the evening with her and her roommate Frankie from London; I loved geeking out over Pixie Dust and Butterbeer in The Lockhart pub, quizzing each other with Harry Potter related Trivial Pursuit questions / meeting Mélissa Lefebvre and Paul Tom who presented their movie Bagages to us / the Canadians - very laid back, friendly, easy-going; I loved their individual looks, you really had the feeling you could come as you are and will always be accepted / of course I like the lumberjack-y vibes of many Canadian men - flannel shirts, bearded and long-ish hair - exactly my type / and I like how inclusive Canada is, at least in Montréal: they put an emphasis on gender equality; I met quite a few openly gay and trans people, too / visiting lots of small concerts (TEKE::TEKE, Les Breastfeeders, Ohmme, Bayonne, The Kalmunity Jazz Project) - I love how cheap the tickets are; I never paid more than 20CAD / my favourite vintage store in Montréal: Eva B. It's huge, and they serve vegan snacks! I got two pairs of Cowboy boots, a purple silk jacket and a green bandana / meeting a few friendly cats (one on the lap of a lady in a wheelchair) and an acrobatic gaga-squirrel / Montréal's architecture - the staircases, the stained-glass windows; all the street art, and of course the city's most enigmatic street, Boulevard Saint-Laurent / maple everything; maple-covered almonds, maple toffee, cookies, candy... unfortunately I usually only enjoy the first few bites, the sweetness is a bit sickening after a while; I even refer to maple toffee as diabetes on a stick / to contradict myself immediately: a weird obsession with Fruit Loops for breakfast (I blame the buffet... I never act normal around food if there's an all-you-can-eat option) / the Château Frontenac in Québec reminding my of the ending scene in 10 Things I Hate about You when Letters to Cleo is playing on the rooftop (in fact they filmed it in Tacoma though, at Stadium High School; but the building had originally been designed as a French château/luxury hotel before turning it into a school) / I didn't care much for Québec cité but our hotel was definitely a plus factor: there was a pool, a sauna and an outdoor hot tub so obviously we spent far too much time in the hot water, enjoying a cold beer, watching the old naked guy in the window across the yard watching us / almost being able to count the layers in the ice accumulating at the bottom of the Montmorency Falls - I think ice is such a fascinating, underrated material; maybe I should go to Iceland and find a good glacier (oh, and I didn't mind the rainbow there either) / a small indoor lake with a surface like a mirror-glaze cake / the huge drawings of a hut overrun by snails - almost like an oversized page of a graphic novel - at the biennale de Québec //

Starting to realise that I do have a plethora of skills and talents other people can only dream of; maybe I should start putting them to good use. Sometimes I notice how easy certain things are for me which also means that I take a lot for granted. I should be more grateful and appreciative, I suppose.

Celebrating my uniqueness. Is there a better place to start wearing freaky clothes and hairstyles than Montréal? Not really. Bless strange pigtails, 90's sunglasses and strong opinions.

The weirdest song has been stuck in my head for days now. They must have played it in that Tex Mex restaurant on Boulevard Saint-Laurent and I subconsciously remembered it?

Inuit art. I love their sculptures made from stone, bone and wood. I don't know if they're meant to be comical but if they are I absolutely appreciate the Inuit's sense of humour.

Getting tipsy on red wine and vermouth in the airport bar with Maxim and Martina. I guess the others thought we were stoned since they knew we had walked past a SQDC in Montréal in the afternoon. I liked spending time with Maxim, finding out about his personality and unexpected beliefs. Still waters run deep. We might actually visit the Buddhist Centre in Munich together. I wonder if they can finally teach me how to meditate. And Martina has a heart of gold. I hope we'll keep in tough. I hadn't expected that of all the people in the group those two would turn out to be the ones I'd click with.

Noticing how lush and green Germany is all of a sudden. I could already see the change from above looking out of the plane window. I like seeing this as a big difference after being gone for two weeks because I don't appreciate it quite as much when I see it happen gradually.

Coming home. Enjoying sweet solitude. Sleeping in my own bed. With heavy blankets. Enough space. The perfect smell. So much better than hotel beds. Returning to my favourite breakfast routine (oats, apple, blueberries, nuts, almond milk) after gaining at least two kilograms on horrible breakfast buffets and poutine.

The insane amount of wisteria growing along a neighbour's balcony and house front.

My first time in Herkulessaal at Munich's Residenz - for a pretty special occasion, too. Chilly Gonzales playing together with some guest musicians. Gosh, I LOVE him when he's rapping. Such a talent. And a Canadian! He's actually from Montréal. What a coincidence.

#personal #present perfect #things i love #2019 #april #april 2019

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 4 years

Note

I think I have gone through all the fics recomended here 😅 Could you or the readers suggest old less known o newer fics? I particulary like angst and/or au. (It can be your own fics guys, I support self-promo 🤣) 🤗

One excellent source of older Klaine fic is @klaineficspdfs. They have electronic copies of some fics previously posted on LiveJournal and a few where the author removed them from their hosting sites. In order to find the fics, you must go to the blog and not use the Tumblr app from your phone/tablet). I’m talking about https://klaineficspdfs.tumblr.com. I have problems accessing this from Safari but no problems with Chrome. From here, you will see links to master posts split alphabetically. I set out a few that I enjoyed reading, as well as few others. I hope these are new to you. - HKVoyage

Anderson’s Thick Maple Honey by coopchels [PDF and EPUB]

Kurt meets Blaine at a farmer’s market in the city, and soon Kurt is whisked away to a life he never would have imagined for himself.

~~~~~

Blaine Anderson: Rock Star by @alilactree

I saw this manip going around and felt very inspired to write a little something. Designer!Kurt and Rockstar!Blaine alternate meeting AU

Follow-ups: Unzipped and Icon

~~~~~

Dandy and the Gutter Punk by Alilactree [PDF and EPUB]

A Klaine Lady and the Tramp AU, set in Seattle. Originally a prompt on the glee-kink-meme.

~~~~~

Hearts and Homes by beautifulwhatsyourhurry [PDF and EPUB]

A cold winter night finds Kurt stranded after some car trouble, only to bring him face to face with a sick, shivering, homeless boy beneath a bridge. That boy, of course, turns out to be Blaine.

~~~~~

Remember What You Told Me by whenidance

AU at this point. Kurt & Blaine never dated in high school, but remained friends. Ten years later, Kurt’s waking up in Vegas daily while Blaine is in New York, and neither has acted on their love for each other. Until now.

~~~~~

Big Man on Campus by Fabrisse

Dalton has all sorts of traditions, and Kurt is surprised by one in particular. Timeline presumes that Tron: Legacy opened a week earlier than it did in the real world, and that Kurt and Blaine declared themselves boyfriends right after "Baby, It's Cold Outside."

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anitabyars · 7 years

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Secrets at Seaside Seaside Summers Sweet with Heat #5 By: Addison Cole Releasing October 25, 2017 World Literary Press Blurb Tony Black is the hottest surfer on the planet. He travels the world throughout the year and spends his summers on Cape Cod with his friends, at the Seaside cottages in Wellfleet, Massachusetts. He’s got his choice of women, but Amy Maples is the one he wants. Fourteen years ago she was his for an entire summer, until a devastating accident changed everything, and what they had seemed like it had never existed—at least for her. Amy Maples is as consistent as the day is long. She’s spent summers on Cape Cod forever, she always does the right thing, and she’s spent years trying to reclaim the heart of Tony Black, the only man she’s ever loved. She’s back for a summer of fun with her friends at Seaside, only this year she’s been offered the opportunity of a lifetime thousands of miles away, and she’s decided to try one last time to reconnect with Tony. But having a relationship with Tony means dealing with her past—and dealing with her past may knock her to her knees. Secrets at Seaside is the sweet edition of the steamy romance novel Seaside Secrets by Melissa Foster Link to Follow Tour: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1dfBH-73KwGFjhVOUz0pxPGI53LpkcfuQz6B-5p_90jc/edit?usp=sharing Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35421334-secrets-at-seaside Goodreads Series Link https://www.goodreads.com/series/203990-sweet-with-heat-seaside-summers Buy Links: AMAZON | B & N | GOOGLE | ITUNES | KOBO ➜KINDLE: http://smarturl.it/SAS_Kindle ➜iBOOKS: http://apple.co/2sdN3bC ➜NOOK: http://smarturl.it/SAS_Nook ➜GPLAY: http://bit.ly/2swhcDI ➜KOBO: http://smarturl.it/SAS_Kobo ➜PAPERBACK: http://smarturl.it/SAS_Pb Author Info Addison Cole is the sweet alter ego of New York Times and USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Melissa Foster. She writes humorous and emotional sweet contemporary romance. Her books do not include explicit sex scenes or harsh language. Addison spends her summers on Cape Cod, where she dreams up wonderful love stories in her house overlooking Cape Cod Bay. Visit Addison on her website or chat with her on social media. Addison enjoys discussing her books with book clubs and reader groups and welcomes an invitation to your event. Author Links: WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS Website: http://www.addisoncole.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AddisonColeAuthor Twitter: https://twitter.com/addison_cole_ GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16711767.Addison_Cole Rafflecopter Giveaway (Addison Cole Tote Bag with Print Copy of READ, WRITE, LOVE AT SEASIDE) a Rafflecopter giveaway

OR, Link to Rafflecopter Page, http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/521ac4c81361/? Excerpts (please choose one) Excerpt #1 “I JUST CAN’T believe that Jamie’s the first one to get married. I mean, Jamie? He never even wanted to get married.” Amy Maples was three sheets to the wind, sitting in a bar at the Ryder Resort in Boston. That was okay, she rationalized, because it was the night before the wedding of her good friends Jessica Ayers and Jamie Reed, and she and her friends were celebrating. Besides, now that Jessica and Jamie were getting married and her other three besties had gotten engaged, Amy was the only single woman of the group. Drunk was the only way she was going to make it through the weekend. “But that was before he met Jessica and she rocked his world.” Jenna leaned across the table in the dimly lit bar and grabbed Amy’s hand. Amy saw Jenna’s lips curve into a smile as she shifted her eyes to Tony Black, another friend they’d known forever, sitting with his arm around Amy, as per usual. Jenna raised her brows with a smile, implying something Amy knew wasn’t true. She rolled her eyes in response. Tony always sat with his arm around her, and it didn’t mean a thing, no matter how much she wished it did. Amy and her besties, Jenna Ward, Bella Abbascia, and Leanna Bray, had grown up spending summers together at the Seaside community in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, and to this day they continued to spend their summers there, along with Jamie and Tony. The six of them had spent eight weeks together every summer for as long as Amy could remember. Their parents had owned the Seaside cottages, which they’d passed down to them. Summers were Amy’s favorite time of year. Now that Amy’s company, Maples Logistical & Conference Consulting, was so successful, she was able to take eight weeks off while her small staff handled the workload. Amy had spent seven years building and nurturing the business, and over the last three years she had turned it into a six-figure venture with clients varying from accounting to full-on logistical consulting. She could hardly believe how her life, and her summers, had changed. Just four years ago she was working part-time during the summers at one of the local restaurants to keep a modicum of income coming in. She loved summers even more now that she didn’t have to work. Of course, her love of summers might also have something to do with being in love with the six-foot-two professional surfer and motivational speaker currently sitting beside her. If only it were reciprocated. She tipped back her glass and took another swig of her get-over-Tony drink. “Petey, can you please get me another drink?” Jenna batted her lashes at her fiancé, Pete Lacroux. She and Pete had gotten engaged last year. Pete was a boat craftsman and he also handled the pool maintenance at Seaside. Pete nuzzled against her neck, and Amy slid her eyes away. Maybe if Sky, Pete’s sister, were there, she’d feel a little better. Sky wasn’t currently dating anyone either, but Sky had to work, so Amy was on her own. Bella and her fiancé, Caden Grant, were whispering nose to nose, Leanna was sitting on Kurt’s lap with her forehead touching his, and Jamie and Jessica were looking at each other like they couldn’t wait to tear each other’s clothes off. Amy stole a glance at Tony, and her heart did a little dance. Delicious and painful memories from the summer before college tried to edge into her mind. As she’d done for the past fourteen years, she pushed them down deep as Tony leaned in close. He smelled delicious, like citrus and spice with an undertone of masculinity and sophistication. She knew he wore Dolce & Gabbana’s The One. She kept a bottle of The One beside her bed at home in Boston, and every once in a while, in the dead of winter or on the cusp of spring, when months stretched like eons before she’d see Tony again, she’d spray the cologne on her pillow so she could smell him as she drifted off to sleep. It never smelled quite as good as Tony himself. Then again, Tony could be covered in sweat after a five-mile run, or laden with sea salt after a day of surfing, and he’d still smell like heaven on legs. Since they were just friends, and it looked like there was no chance of them becoming more, she relied on her fantasies to keep her warm. When she was alone in bed at night, she held on to the image of Tony wearing only his board shorts, his broad shoulders and muscular chest glistening wet, muscles primed from the surf, and those delicious abs blazing a path to his— Tony pressed his hand to her shoulder and pulled her against him, bringing her mind back to the present. “Time for ice water?” he asked just above a whisper. So much for her fantasy. My review!

5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Sweet, Sassy & Sensational!

This was such a Fantastic story about love and friendship, I Loved it. Such fun, sassy characters, the girls in this book really brought such special fun, and some great craziness to this story. Amy Maples has been in love with Tony Black since she was six years old. Their families, as well as several other families, spent every summer in the cottages at Seaside. This summer they came together to celebrate a wedding and it was possibly the last summer for Amy, because she has been offered a job that would take her far away, to Australia for two years. What was she going to do? Tony and her had been best friends, for so long, but she wanted more, she just couldn’t see herself with anyone but him. Tony was a famous surfer as well as a motivational speaker, he spends his time travelling either for competitions or speaking engagements, but every summer he returns, to the cottages to spend time with everyone. Amy has to try to get Tony to see her in a different light, so he will give them a chance. So with her friends help, they devise a plan for seduction. But there are things that her friends don’t know about, and Tony and Amy will have to work through their past to get to the other side for a chance at lasting love. Loved this story so much, I laughed, I cried and my heart swelled with happiness. Another fantastic story by Addison Cole. I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced reader copy of this book.

#addison cole #tasty book tours

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emma-the-teal-tiger-blog · 7 years

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Things I Love #101-200

101. Farmer's markets 102. Long weekends 103. Snuggling up to my partner in bed and listening to music 104. Laughing and not being able to stop 105. The color orange 106. Ice cream (even though it makes me sick) 107. Colorful and crazy hair 108. Naturally red hair 109. Sushi 110. Blue eyes 111. Dark brown eyes 112. Green eyes 113. Eyes in general 114. Autumn 115. Netflix 116. Veggies 117. Fruit 118. Knowing that everything will be okay 119. My partner's hair 120. The smell of old books 121. Pretty Little Liars 122. Feeling okay 123. Knowing that I'm loved 124. Sweet "I love you" texts from my partner 125. Fellow tall people 126. When my partner holds me and kisses me 127. When my partner kisses me randomly and unexpectedly 128. Science 129. The universe 130. The planets (especially Pluto and Uranus) 131. Sarcasm 132. My best friends 133. How J's are pronounced like Y's in German 134. How J's are pronounced like G's and vice versa in French 135. How H's are silent in French 136. Pizza 137. French fries 138. Maple syrup 139. Watching stupid videos on the internet 140. Dan and Phil 141. Saturday Night Live 142. F•R•I•E•N•D•S (tv show) 143. Bacon 144. Pillows 145. Warm, fluffy blankets 146. Rocks, crystals, gemstones 147. J. K. Rowling 148. Stephen King 149. J. D. Salinger's writing style 150. Catcher In the Rye 151. Eyeliner 152. Scarves 153. Bow ties 154. Pasta 155. Soda 156. Glitter 157. Random aesthetics 158. The burning, chemical smell of paint and Sharpies and nail polish 159. Outer space 160. Sweaters 161. New books 162. Nice dreams that I never want to wake up from 163. Being comforted after having a terrifying nightmare 164. Cranberry sauce in a can (especially when it comes out in the shape of the can) 165. Writing with smooth gel pens 166. Manners 167. Fun teachers 168. The smell and taste of vanilla 169. The 1975 170. My favorite pair of blue jeans 171. My favorite green cardigan that reminds me of Kurt Cobain 172. Forehead kisses 173. Finding a quote or lyric that I relate to immensely 174. Concerts 175. The smell of gasoline 176. Getting the good kind of butterflies in my stomach 177. Shuffling my music and having it play a song I've forgotten about 178. Getting letters in the mail 179. Water 180. When the leaves change colors 181. Long walks 182. Pokémon GO 183. Pokémon in general 184. Candles 185. The woods 186. Rivers 187. Creating things 188. Alphabetizing things 189. Organizing things 190. Cinnamon Toast Crunch 191. Crying when I need to 192. Talking to my partner 193. Drawing 194. Fireflies 195. The moon 196. Pumpkin flavored things 197. Girl Scout cookies (THIN MINTS💚) 198. The Outsiders 199. Things I can relate to 200. My sister

#happiness #things i love #positivity

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 4 years

Note

any fics that have a scenic location/setting?

This is such a great question - we all need a little escapism at the moment. Under the cut are fics where the scenic settings is an integral part of the story. I have included both international and USA locations.

There are series where there is a story of their wedding/honeymoon set in a scenic location, but it’s not in the first story. Check out Beautiful Mess by WildHurricane, We All Shine On (REVISED version) by delightful_fear, and Until Further Notice by lostinfictionalworlds

Happy Reading! - HKVoyage

Twisted Fate by Mrs Criss 2012

Kurt and Blaine have been best friends since meeting on the Dalton staircase 13 years ago. Kurt is about to get married and Blaine- as ever- is the sure and steadfast presence right by his side. But does fate have other ideas?

~~~~~

Domus Civita by @jayhawk-writes

While on vacation to a city he’s never been to, Kurt Hummel finds himself in a place that he recognized from his dreams. The person he always sees in those dreams is there, too, and they spot him and ask, “Is it really you?”

~~~~~

High Opera by Twitchy Squirrel

In this AU Kurt is a thirty-something struggling opera singer. Blaine is an international pop superstar. They meet on a flight to Italy, and the rest is amore.

~~~~~

Caribbean Love by Amberlovesocean

Kurt takes his father to the Virgin Islands to vacation after his heart attack. Burt ends up in the hospital and Kurt goes to get their luggage to take his dad home when a storm smashes the boat, leaving Kurt in the ocean. Alone. He needs all of his wits about him to survive, but he finds something he needed more than that...

~~~~~

Rose Island Romance (or, "Cute Boys Don't Grow On Trees But They Do Like to Sail") by flowerfan

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A Summer of Clichés by A-Simple-Rainbow

The Hudmels decided to go to one of Europe’s sunniest countries on vacation… Kurt was sure it wouldn’t be worth it. He was so getting skin cancer. And it would be their fault. Nothing, nothing, would be worth two weeks of cancerous Sun. Or…? AU

~~~~~

Lost With You by Stuckontheground

When Kurt Hummel goes to Paris over the summer as a graduation gift, he’s afraid that he’s going to be all alone in the City of Love. Little does he know, a chance meeting in a cafe will change his life forever.

~~~~~

Between the Moon and New York City by jackabelle73

Kurt arrives in a small coastal town in North Carolina to join his dad and Carole for a few days of their vacation, but under duress. He can’t imagine that this sleepy southern town has anything to offer him…till a very attractive local goes jogging by on the beach.

~~~~~

Anderson's Thick Maple Honey by coopchels [PDF] or [Epub]

Kurt meets Blaine at a farmer’s market in the city, and soon Kurt is whisked away to a life he never would have imagined for himself.

~~~~~

Bound For Glory by Cleverboots (Amberlovesocean)

Kurt is assaulted after singing at a school dance and is left for dead, thrown aboard an empty train car at the railroad freight yard to hide the crime.

Note: Part 1 of the Glory series

~~~~~

Sotto Voce by GSJwrites

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The Klaine Road Trip 2015 by numerous authors

In a collective effort by Klaine authors across the globe, Kurt and Blaine are off on their first big trip as a married couple! From New England to New Zealand, and as many places as they can reach in between, the newlyweds are hitting the road (and the air) for the adventure of a lifetime.

~~~~~

The Glee Holiday by AnnParker

The Holiday set in the Glee World. Kurt and Rachel, both with guy problems swap homes on the opposite coasts, where they each meet a local guy. Will it be lasting love or are they doomed from the start after the vacation is over?

~~~~~

Rocking Horse Ranch by @hkvoyage

Kurt has been working hard all year, and has earned a well-deserved break. He joins his family for the Christmas and New Year holidays at Rocking Horse Ranch, just north of New York City. The all-inclusive resort has plenty of outdoor and indoor activities along with evening entertainment. It boasts that it has something for everyone. Little does Kurt know that it also has someone for everyone. Holiday maker!Kurt and activities staff!Blaine. A Klaine AU meeting. Written for Grlnxtdr29’s Klaine Christmas Eve Challenge and the Klaine Advent Challenge.

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years

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Kurtbastian one-shot - “Passive, But Still Aggressive” (Rated T)

Sebastian forgets an important anniversary. Kurt doesn't. And Kurt handles it ... well, like Kurt. (2554 words)

Read on AO3.

Sebastian pulls his Porsche into underground parking, rolling in at about five miles below the speed limit. He stays between the lines, conscientiously following the yellow arrows that lead to his assigned spot, taking his time to maneuver his car into the dead center of his space. He’s stalling, and since he’s alone, he won’t bother denying it. He seriously considers sleeping here the seven hours until morning … in his car … underground. He’d wake up with a crick in his neck and a kink in his back, but he’d deserve it.

Kurt had expected Sebastian home hours ago. They were supposed to have dinner together. They eat dinner together most every night, but Kurt had stressed the fact that tonight they needed to have dinner together. He emphasized it not only like it was important, but like Sebastian should know why it was important.

But Sebastian didn’t catch on, even when the universe itself tried to give him clues.

He misplaced his wedding ring twice today. Sebastian never misplaces his wedding ring because he never takes it off. But he had to today twice – once when he accidentally stuck his hand in maple syrup, and the second time when a blue ballpoint pen exploded in his hand. He had to take his ring off both times to clean it, and then promptly misplaced it, but only for a minute – long enough to give his heart a jolt.

That should have been the only clue he needed, but being a rather dense male, it wasn’t.

The wedding party limo that passed him on the highway, decorated with white paper bells and silver tinsel, should have been his second clue. But when Sebastian saw it, he rolled his eyes, thankful that on their wedding day, he and his husband were able to escape the reception for the airport in his Porsche instead of taking the limo that his groomsmen had decorated with hundreds of inflated condoms.

The Heppermyer’s 50th Anniversary celebration, taking place at a table not too far from his during the dinner he should have been sharing with Kurt, should have been the hammer that clobbered him over his thick skull. He even sent a bottle of champagne to the happy couple’s table, and they sent him a piece of their cake – a green tea flavored Japanese inspired confection that he thought for sure that Kurt would enjoy.

But, ironically, it didn’t.

Kurt’s uncharacteristic radio silence after two, “Where are you?” texts didn’t do it, either.

No. Unfortunately it wasn’t until Sebastian left the strip club (girl dancers only so he felt safe entertaining there) and the song “I Have Nothing” by Whitney Houston came on his iPod over the car’s speakers that it hit him.

When Whitney sang the verse, “I have nothing if I don’t have you,” it hit him hard.

Today (technically yesterday, but Sebastian was leaping over shock and starting in the denial stage), was his and Kurt’s fifth wedding anniversary. The wood anniversary - oddly appropriate since Sebastian Smythe was officially a humongous block head.

But instead of realizing early enough to come home and salvage the night (by the skin of his teeth the way he usually does), it’s after 1:30 a.m. when Sebastian returns home from his new client meeting.

He could have bowed out hours ago; this client in particular wasn’t that important.

Nothing’s as important as his husband.

But Sebastian was having a moment.

He was riding high on scoring a win, so to speak, which came with it a moment of, “Why do I have to answer to anybody?” and, “I’m a grown man, I’ll do what I want.” Both of those moments may have been fueled by adrenaline and alcohol, but they were still significant at the time.

“It’s only the fifth year anniversary,” Sebastian consoles himself, making the decision to leave his car, go up to their penthouse, and face the music. He feels to onset of a mild hangover coming on (mostly from the adrenaline – he only had two beers, and he’d burned those off before he got behind the wheel). Plus, he has to shower. He smells like whiskey and cigarettes, and even though he didn’t order a lap dance, he somehow managed to come home wearing glitter. “How big a deal can someone make over a wood themed anniversary?”

Sebastian apparently forgot for a second who he was married to until he opened the front door and got a great, big, cedar-scented reminder.

Positioned five feet in front of the door, so it would be the first thing Sebastian would see when he got home, sits a round table draped in a white cloth, and covered in gifts. A handful of them are wrapped, but after seeing the ones that aren’t, the ones that are simply set up on display, he’s not sure he wants to see the wrapped ones. The ones he can see are so perfect and sentimental, the wrapped ones must surely be devastating.

In the center of the table is a polished wood vase, carved with Celtic knots, with a bouquet of red paper roses inside. Sebastian knows Kurt made the roses. They’d taken an origami class together at the Museum of Natural History about a year ago. Kurt excelled at it. Every chance he got, he practiced the craft, creating swans and cranes and little nesting boxes every time his hands got bored. Sebastian, however, could only manage a frog. It hopped to the left once, landed sideways, then never hopped again.

Next to the vase, he sees a wooden photo album that has their names and wedding date burned onto the cover, along with a mandala so intricate he can only imagine it took months to create. The album doesn’t close flat, bursting with pages Sebastian knows Kurt scrapbooked himself. Beside that sits a wooden plaque, again with their names burned into it, and on individual slats below that, important dates from their relationship. For most people, it would probably start with “first date”, but Kurt has listed “first fight”, then “first date”, “first I love you”, “first time”, the day Sebastian asked Kurt to marry him, the date they got married, followed by a handful of empty slats, presumably for special dates to come (provided their marriage doesn’t end tonight). He sees a wood wine rack filled with his favorite imported beer; a hand painted sign (in Kurt’s crisp but chaotic writing) that reads – I love you. You annoy me more than I ever thought possible, but I want to spend every irritating minute with you; and a neatly constructed Jenga tower, each block of this version bearing penned words along the side describing something dirty they could do to one another – things they could have been doing to one another all night long if Sebastian hadn’t been such an imbecile.

Sebastian sighs, breathing in and catching a whiff of a final touch that might bring him to tears. While he had been munching on subpar Chicken Alfredo in a hotel restaurant, Kurt had made Sebastian’s favorite – parchment wrapped salmon and burgundy poached pears.

And for Kurt on this special day, Sebastian has only his sad self, smelling like liquor, covered in glitter, with a grand total of nothing planned. He hadn’t even remembered to stop by somewhere to pick up a pathetic apology bouquet.

Of course, he never would have imagined how much he’d have to apologize for.

Oh dear God, Sebastian thinks to himself. I really dropped the ball on this one.

Sebastian has no idea what to do – absolutely no idea. He hasn’t heard Kurt yet. Maybe he’s asleep. That would give Sebastian time to run back out and try to find him … something. But what? Anything that Sebastian could buy at a gas station or a Walmart would be an insult to the exceptional and thoughtful gifts that Kurt had obviously taken months to put together.

He could take a shower, slip into bed, and feign illness – claim that the tuna tartar he ate at lunch gave him an epic case of the shits and he was stuck at the office till just an hour ago. Then he could stay home tomorrow, email his personal shopper and tell her to break the bank, up her commission and just go gaga.

Gaga! Lady Gaga! Kurt’s still head over heels for her. And Sebastian’s heard that if you slip her foundation a couple mill, she’ll come have dinner with you. Before he can jump on his iPhone to check if that’s true, he catches a tired and unhappy Kurt peeking out from their bedroom. Sebastian’s stomach lurches, which he takes as a sign, so he goes with his gut.

“I’m sorry,” he says, rushing past the table of wonderful presents and heading towards his husband with arms outstretched. “I am so, so, so sorry. I …” He was about to say that he completely forgot, but that would be heartbreaking. “I have no excuse,” he goes for instead as Kurt slowly steps out, walking towards Sebastian with red eyes and a wobbly lower lip “I ... it’s just, I brought in a new client at work, and I was so excited, I …”

Kurt walks up to Sebastian with a mixed expression in his eyes. Sebastian doesn’t know what he’s thinking, or what he’s about to do. On one hand, Sebastian expects Kurt to break down and start crying.

On the other hand, he can also see Kurt kicking him in the balls and punching him in the nose.

“It’s been a while since I’ve brought in a new client at work,” Sebastian continues, trying to earn sympathy he doesn’t deserve. He’s telling the truth, but it feels like he’s chumping out, “and I thought …”

Kurt puts delicate fingers to Sebastian’s lips and shushes him. “Sebastian,” Kurt says in a thick voice that’s incredibly even, “I understand.”

Sebastian scrunches his nose, looking at Kurt as if he’s never seen this man before. Where’s the high-pitched wail? Where’s the crossed arms? Where’s the splotchy red cheeks? “You … you do?”

“Yes. I do,” Kurt says, tight smile notwithstanding. “I talked to your secretary. She told me everything. I know this account was important to you. And even though it’s our anniversary, and I must have reminded you that tonight was important a dozen times, it’s alright that you went out and wooed your client instead.”

“It … it is?”

“Yes.” The shadow of a scowl plays on Kurt’s lips as he runs a finger down the slope of Sebastian’s shoulder, picking up traces of glitter and sweeping it away. “It is.”

“So, we’re … we’re cool?”

“Of course, we’re cool. We’ll … just … let it lie for now, and celebrate tonight … right?” It sounds more like a threat than a compromise, but Sebastian is in no position to turn it down.

“Right,” Sebastian says. “Absolutely.” Sebastian takes Kurt’s arms, feeling bolder since Kurt’s being so lenient. “I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant, your favorite nightclub, and we’ll spend the evening living it up. Just you and me. I’ll even rent a limo.” He pulls Kurt in to his embrace and nuzzles his husband’s neck. “We can feed each other strawberries, drink some champagne … we’ll tell the driver to put the partition up, crank the music on high, and we can go for a drive … a nice long drive …”

“Sounds great.” Kurt lets Sebastian kiss him on the lips. Or it will sound great, his tone relays, after I’ve slept, and after you’ve made this up to me.

“I’m gonna go get out of my suit and take a shower,” Sebastian whispers seductively. “You wanna join me?”

“Sure. Why not?” Kurt says it, but he doesn’t sound too happy about it. “Let me just get dinner put away. We can eat it later.” Another threat, but Sebastian’s just happy this is resolving itself painlessly.

It’s a little creepy, but Sebastian’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Kurt pats Sebastian on the arm, then walks past him to the kitchen. Sebastian waits, watches Kurt go before he heads for their bedroom to take off his suit and get his pajamas. Well, that was … interesting, he thinks. He’s tempted to pat himself on the back for that one, revel in getting away from his heinous act without a scratch, but he can’t, because all he can think about is his excited husband putting together that fabulous dinner, setting up that table full of gifts, probably dressing up in one of his gorgeous designer suits, and then waiting all night for his louse of a husband to get home.

And when he didn’t, Kurt got upset. Of course, he got upset. He was livid. He cursed, called Sebastian ever name in the book. Maybe he even considered packing up a bag and going to a hotel.

He definitely cried.

And yet, here they were, preparing to take a shower together, and Sebastian can’t help feeling lucky that they’ve finally gotten to a point where Kurt doesn’t fly off the handle when Sebastian makes a mistake. Because they’re only five years into this. Sebastian’s pretty damned sure that he’s going to make plenty more mistakes.

Thankfully, Sebastian married a fair and even-tempered man.

But …

… it hasn’t always been that way, and Sebastian can’t imagine why the change, the sudden change, especially tonight. And that kind of bothers him. It feels like the calm before the storm.

So, if this is the calm, when’s the storm going to hit?

Sebastian goes to their room. He sheds his suit and hangs it in a bag, trying his best not to rain glitter all over their wood floor. He’s going to have to pay extra to get that glitter out. He sweeps up the detritus so that Kurt won’t have to see it in the morning. Hopefully a good night’s … or morning’s … sleep is all he’ll need to smooth out the rough patches that are still being rubbed raw. But Sebastian has to fix this. He has to think of something that will equal that table full of presents and all the thought that went into them.

He opens his underwear drawer. He’d normally go to sleep naked but tonight that might not be the way to go. When he pulls out a pair of briefs, he discovers that that’s a good call. The storm has hit, and the casualties are numerous.

He grabs a pair of his underwear and heads towards the kitchen. Kurt’s just about finished putting dinner away, piling Tupperware in neat stacks on the middle shelf.

Sebastian clears his throat.

“Yes?” Kurt turns. Sebastian holds up a pair of his briefs … from the hole cut in the crotch.

Kurt doesn’t acknowledge the defiled underwear, just looks straight into Sebastian’s eyes with an eerie calm.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Sebastian asks.

Kurt nods. “I’m sure,” he says, returning to his work.

“Alrighty then. We’re still cool?”

“Still cool.”

“Good,” Sebastian says, tossing his briefs into the trash. “That’s … that’s good.”

Sebastian backs away slowly to get ready for that shower.

And he’ll hide Kurt’s scissors in case anything changes.

#Kurtbastian #Sebkurt #Sekurt #Frankie writes

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