just a twenty-year-old small-town girl who wishes that it was 1912 and she was on the Titanic. or that it was 1976 and she was in San Francisco rallying alongside Harvey Milk. obsessed with art, film, and great literature.
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Passenger(s) on the RMS Titanic
the wonderful Jessica over on Twitter drew this amazing picture for Blessed Objectivity’s ‘fix a vice with a vice’ with Blaine wearing the chemise, and I can’t thank her enough!
fic: there’s always a first
5,000k (exactly ahhh that never happens)
“I know we did everything backwards,” Kurt says, meeting Blaine’s eyes with only a little bit of difficulty. “We had sex before…sex-sex.”
Blaine’s nose scrunches up and he smiles, biting his lower lip. He actually looks bashful, like he’s the one embarrassed to be saying all this aloud. “’Sex-sex’?”
Kurt rolls his eyes and swats at Blaine’s shoulder with his free hand. “You know what I mean, smartass. What I’m trying to say is…I want to—I, uh…I wanna blow you.” He says the last part in a mumbled rush, ducking his head.
another GKM prompt fill and, as always, the prompt and warnings are under the cut!
this is what I spend my Friday nights doing hbu
fic: fix a vice with a vice
~6,300k (aka what the hell I need to shut up)
Blaine swallows. “What would you say if I had something a little different than just panties and stockings?”
Kurt raises an eyebrow but keeps his expression neutral. “I’d ask what it is.”
Blaine laughs and bobs his head in a nod, looking at the large seasonal floral centerpiece on the table. “You wouldn’t judge me?”
“Blaine, my god,” Kurt sighs. “How long have we been dating?”
so, here it is; the third installment of the now-titled “Aubergine Dreams” ‘verse (parts one and two, respectively). Blaine’s chemise + stockings are here. title, as always, comes from P!ATD’s inside cover of their booklet for A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out. warnings under the cut.
fic: but you get the picture
~5,000k
They’re about ready to flag down their waitress for their check when Blaine blurts out, “I have more.”
Kurt tilts his head, taking one last drink of his iced tea before pushing the mostly-empty glass off to the side. “What?”
Blaine swallows, slowly beginning to redden again, and says, quieter, “T-the…lingerie. I—I have more. At home. It’s hidden, but I have…more.”
A too-quick too-hot spark of arousal flashes through Kurt’s body like a whip. He sits up a little straighter in the booth, staring hard at Blaine’s red face. “You do?”
second installment of the newly-named “Aubergine Dreams” ‘verse (title taken from Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk, or “Time To Dance” by P!ATD, however you choose to identify). installment one is here. these are Blaine’s garter belt and panties for visual reference. both titles taken from P!ATD’s inside cover for A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out
fic: we sure are in for a show tonight
~4,500k
“You want us to…have sex on a webcam?” Blaine asks, chin propped up on Kurt’s stomach as he looks up at him. His brows are furrowed but he doesn’t look angry, just contemplative.
“No,” Kurt’s quick to correct, fingers shaky where they thread through Blaine’s sweat-damp curls. He still feels the phantom fullness of Blaine inside him and can’t resist wiggling his hips a little to intensify the familiar burn. “I want to finger you on camera. On the internet.”
oops. a lot more porn. also, pet names because I firmly believe these two can coo at each other for hours.
fic: sitting out dances on the wall
When Blaine’s fourteen and Cooper’s twenty, he gets asked if he’d like to chaperone Westerville Central’s Sadie Hawkins dance. It’s Blaine’s first high school dance since he’d skipped out on coronation in the fall, complaining about not having a date and it being a waste of money to rent a tux for just the night.
(Money’s not an issue for the Andersons, but Cooper would have to be deaf and blind not to hear Blaine’s voice crack on the word “date” and his eyes flash momentarily to something akin to fear and pain, and he knows instantly that it’s something more than a waste of money.)
Blaine brings home a slip a few weeks before the dance, slightly giddy, and asks, “Hey, Coop, d’ya wanna chaperone my dance?”
ugh I couldn’t stop after that asktheanderbros post and this had to happen
fic: blessed objectivity (oh oh oh)
~3,200k
The door to Blaine’s room is cracked open when Kurt reaches it, a tiny sliver of yellow light streaming out into the dimly-lit hall. He takes a deep breath to calm the familiar butterflies swarming his stomach and pushes open the door, stepping in.
And stops.
Stares.
Gasps.
Because there Blaine is, kneeling at the foot of his bed, naked except for a pair of tight (ohmygodsotight) red boy shorts and thigh-high black stockings with vivid red bows on the band. His arms are pulled behind his back, enhancing his upper chest, and how can he elicit such a strong reaction without even moving, without saying anything?
sigh. I had to write this because, like the 69, there’s also an astounding lack of Blaine wearing any form of lingerie. and that is just a tragedy. also, this got a little out of hand. oops.
(installment one of the “Aubergine Dreams” ‘verse
