Novus Initium

nightdweller19: I love you, Susie Q

Mon, 20 May 2013 03:49:27 -0400

I love you, Susie Q

Reblog if you're a Slytherin

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 09:52:18 -0400

Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness.

Just taking attendance!

Gryffindor click here

Ravenclaw x

Hufflepuff x

THIS IS WHY I DIDN’T TALK TO HIM!!

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 03:43:08 -0400

THIS IS WHY I DIDN’T TALK TO HIM!!

sugarfreepopcorn: WOO FOR GIVEAWAYS? So, I was lucky enough to...

Sat, 21 Jul 2012 19:49:02 -0400

sugarfreepopcorn:

WOO FOR GIVEAWAYS?

So, I was lucky enough to be able to get the chance to get Chris Colfer’s new book, The Land of Stories signed, and grabbed a second copy to also get signed on a whim.

I thought I could give it to a friend or something but…than realised I would much rather one of my followers have it, or someone that wasn’t able to make the signing, or missed out on getting in.

So, the winner receives a copy of The Land of Stories, signed by Chris Colfer (this afternoon actually).

Rules are:

don’t have to be following me

reblog as much as you want

likes count because…I said so

I’m going to finish this and use a random number thingo to choose a winner on the 9th of August

please don’t sell it. I really want someone to have it that genuinely really wants a signed copy and doesn’t already have one

Give me a few weeks after I contact you about being the winner to ship it out as i’ll only just be returning back to Australia on the 10th :)

On My Heart Just Like a Tattoo

Sat, 28 Apr 2012 22:02:59 -0400

Rating: K or K+ (maybe?)

Warnings: Tattooing? Blaine and Kurt tears.

Blaine Anderson doesn’t like pain, and don’t even get him started on needles, yet somehow he finds himself reclining in a leather chair in the center of a Lima Heights’ tattoo parlor. Kurt is pacing next to him, his bottom lip caught in between his teeth and his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides; there is a plane ticket to New York tucked in his back pocket, the time stamped on the stub reads 7 am… less than 6 hours from now.“You sure about this, kid?” a burley looking man, Kurt isn’t sure if he would go as far as to call him an artist, questions from across the room. Blaine nods, letting out a quiet whimper, and for a moment Kurt considers informing the man that Blaine isn’t of legal age quite yet… he chooses not to. The needle isn’t even touching him and Blaine is already beckoning his boyfriend over, holding out his free hand for Kurt to grasp as the man lowers the machine toward the inside of Blaine’s left wrist. Kurt doesn’t like to see Blaine hurt and the tears that were already pooling in his eyes begin to leak out as Blaine lets out another whimper.

“Hold still, honey,” he whispers, he is sure his repeats the words far too many times over the next hour or so. He vaguely remembers slurring ‘I love you’ with ‘it is almost over’ and ‘you are doing so good’ until he is just babbling incoherently and his mouth is sticky and his tongue feel swollen and thick. Blaine is trying not to twist and yank his arm away from the pain, his self-control is just about at its limit when the needle is pulled away and the artist wipes away the last bit of excess ink that is dribbling down Blaine’s wrist. Kurt tosses the cash on the counter unceremoniously, all he wants is to take his boyfriend home, but he knows now that the tears have started, they aren’t going to stop. Blaine is curled up in the back seat of the Navigator when Burt and Carole show up to retrieve them, Kurt drops the keys in his stepmother’s palm before pulling his boyfriend into his lap; Blaine buries his head into Kurt’s chest. No one asks why Blaine did it, though Finn suspects alcohol until Kurt sets him straight a couple of hours later; it isn’t until everyone is saying their goodbyes that anyone really understands it. Kurt is instructing his dad to rip him away from Blaine and simultaneously begging him not to, he won’t make it through security in time if he waits any longer. And, suddenly, as Kurt sobbing into his hands and twisting in Finn’s grasp to lock eyes with Blaine and Blaine is clutching the blocky COURAGE that has been inked into his wrist, everyone gets it: sometimes getting what you want, doing what you have to do, causes the most pain.

First off, oh my god, one year today! How amazing is that? I don’t think I was this excited...

Fri, 16 Mar 2012 00:55:00 -0400

First off, oh my god, one year today! How amazing is that? I don’t think I was this excited for my OWN anniversary…

Secondly, I know there are a lot of people wondering if I gave up on Klaine Week, the short answer is no. I have bits and pieces for Missing Moments and Anniversary that I am working my ass off to get posted ASAP. Wednesday, I got off work and had to run to the ER with my sister and sit for an ungodly amount of hours and today, I was babysitting and a firefight went down literally three minutes from the house, complete with the SWAT team showing up, in between phones ringing, trying to figure out what the HELL was going on AND getting the baby and I to a safe place, yeah it didn’t leave much time for writing. Friday’s prompt is Graduation and I’m hoping to do a triple update, so stay tuned! To keep spirits up, here is a quick blurt on what you have to look forward to.

Wednesday: It was the summer before senior year and Kurt Hummel planned on spending as much of it with his boyfriend as possible… he just didn’t think that would involve the Westerville Public Pool and a large group of half-naked, dripping wet Warblers.

Thursday: It’s their one year anniversary and Blaine Anderson has a “Wicked” dinner planned, literally. With a little help from the baristas at the Lima Bean and a WHOLE lot of St. Patty’s Day decorations, he might just be able to give his boyfriend One Short Date in the ‘Emerald City’.

I have no idea what I’m doing friday for the graduation theme, but I will post a description, or better yet the actually drabble, as soon as I can.

Thank so much for your patience,

Samantha1912

Klaine Week: Prompt Two: AU Klaine

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 01:35:37 -0400

Klaine Week 2012

Tuesday: AU Klaine

Rating: T (R for language?)

Kurt Hummel dropped his sunglasses lower on the bridge of his nose and cocked one perfectly manicured eyebrow, crossing one leg over the other as he slumped farther down in the backseat of the limo.

“I don’t like you,” he snapped, clicking his tongue and pushing his glasses into place again to cover his icy glare.

“You’re an asshole,” his companion responded as he removed a beer from the minibar and popped off the cap. Kurt rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his margarita, humming as the alcohol burned his throat.

“You’re a prick.” He shot back, snagging himself another margarita and propping his foot up on the seat across from the other man. The privacy window slid down and the driver shot both men accusatory looks.

“We are nearing our destination,” he announced, “May I suggest you both tone down the hostility before we arrive?”

“Fuck off, Jeeves.” The other man growled around his beer, “We have it covered. May I suggest you just do your job and drive the damn car?”

“As you wish, Mr. Anderson.” The chauffer bit out, his chest heaving with repressed anger as he slid the privacy glass back into place. Kurt clicked his tongue again and took another drink of his margarita.

“Didn’t your parents teach you any manners, Blaine?” he asked, pursing his lips and setting aside his drink, “Didn’t they tell you that to respect your elders?” Blaine shifted in his seat so that his face was level with Kurt’s, one hand snatching the glasses off of the pale man’s face while the other kept him from toppling to the floor.

“Some of us didn’t have our daddy’s dictating our every move,” he hissed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “but that’s just completely unfathomable to you, isn’t it pretty boy?” Kurt swallowed at the proximity, his elbow knocking into the other man and sending him crashing onto the floorboard of the limo.

“Whore,” the darker haired man snapped as he climbed back onto the seat, inspecting his arms for any injuries and rubbing his hip.

“Bitch,” Kurt sniped back as the limo rolled to a stop and the locks clicked. In a matter of seconds the door was opened and the pair was assaulted by photographers as they were ushered onto the red carpet hand in hand.

“Kurt, Blaine, over here!” a report called from behind the velvet rope. Hands stretched out toward the pair, fans screamed at the top of their lungs hoping to grab their attention, photographers yelled for them to strike poses. Ryan Seacrest waited patiently for their publicists to guide them over, tossing the microphone between his hands as they finally were instructed to speak with him.

“Look who’s decided to join us,” he directed the cameraman toward the two men, “The men of the hour and Hollywood’s ‘it’ couple, Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson. How are you tonight boys?” Kurt blushed and looped an arm around Blaine’s waist before speaking.

“We are phenomenal, Ryan. I am truly stunned that this is all for us, it’s just so humbling!” he exclaimed, grinning widely at the camera, “Who would have ever thought that little old me would make it big in Hollywood, Broadway maybe, but never LA. Now, Blaine here, I never had any doubts about him, he is just so incredibly talented, it’s unbelievable.”

“You two are just adorable,” Ryan gushed, laughing quietly, “What’s on your mind, Blaine? What do you think of your man’s overnight success?”

“I am so incredibly proud of him. He is a truly inspiring person and it was an honor to work with him on this movie, it’s kind of nice being able to take him home at night too.” He responded with a chuckle before pressing a kiss to Kurt’s cheek.

“I’m proud of you too, baby,” the paler man murmured, nuzzling the other man’s nose and grinning.

“I want you to be,” Blaine whispered, his voice choked and his eyes filling with tears. Kurt leaned in and kissed him chastely before pulling away and directing his attention back at Ryan and the camera.

“We should probably head inside and make sure everything is set up,” he announced with a small smile, “It was lovely talking to you though.”

“Congratulations,” Ryan called after them before wrangling in his next celebrity. Twenty-something interviews and 30 or so congratulations later the pair was finally behind their closed (and locked) dressing room door.

“What the hell was that?” Kurt snapped, pushing Blaine away from him and snatching his suit off of the garment rack. Blaine grabbed a beer from the mini fridge and flopped down onto the leather couch in the center of the room.

“What was what exactly?” he grumbled, chasing his words by a large drink of alcohol. Kurt entered the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, growling when the leg of his suit got caught in between the door and the frame. He reopened the door begrudgingly and shut in again quietly before responding.

“I want you to be,” he mocked. Blaine smirked into his drink and began unbuttoning his silky dress shirt.

“You’re just pissed that you didn’t think of it first,” he yelled over his shoulder, his shirt sliding off of his shoulders and pooling on the couch. Kurt pulled on his dress pants, kicking the door angrily as he did so.

“Are you kidding me?” He barked, “I knew you couldn’t act but I thought you’d at least try to make this look real.” Blaine tossed his jeans somewhere across the room and grabbed his suit pants with an angry sigh.

“Just because you can’t recognize talent doesn’t mean I don’t have it, Hummel.” He growled, yanking on his pants, “You know that old saying ‘it takes one to know one’? Yeah, that goes both ways sweetheart, you wouldn’t know talent if it bit you in the-.” A loud crash sounded from behind the bathroom door followed quickly by a handful of expletives that even Blaine hadn’t heard leave the other man’s mouth.

“Kurt?” the shorter man called, his brow creased with a frown, “Kurt, are you alright?” The only reply that passed through the door was a loud groan. Blaine jiggled the doorknob, his hand still gripping the waist of his undone slacks, swearing when he found it locked.

“Damn it, Hummel, you afraid I’m going to rape you or something?” he grumbled, slamming his shoulder into the door, groaning from both the impact and the fact that the door was still secured.

“Kurt, can you hear me?” Blaine demanded, his heart beating frantically and his head resting on his forearm against the door.

“Yeah,” came the response, “shit that hurts, yeah, I can hear you.”

“Can you open the door?” the other man asked, swallowing the sigh of relief that was bubbling up in his throat. There was shuffling on the other side of the door, accompanied by a string up curse words, before the lock clicked and Blaine was able to open the door. The pale man was sprawled out on the floor his head cradled in one hand and the other hand tucked against his chest.

“What hurts?” Blaine questioned, kneeling down next to his costar and raking his eyes over the other man’s body, his gaze lingering a little too long the strip of pale skin that was exposed in between the hem of his undershirt and the waist of his suit pants. Kurt’s muffled a groan as he attempted to sit up, his eyes screwed shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Blaine scrubbed a hand over his face, buttoning his pants as an afterthought, and scooped Kurt into his arms.

“If this is just you being fucking dramatic, again, I swear I will break your face.” Blaine hissed, placing the other man on the couch and backing away. The door swung open and the producer breezed in with a stern look on her face.

“Which one of you idiots is going to ruin this for me?” she deadpanned, arms crossed over her rather large chest, “Jesus, Hummel, can’t I have this one night?” Kurt winced, his palms pressed against his eyes.

“He slipped,” Blaine offered dumbly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I didn’t put up with a year and a half of you prima donnas and your inferior acting skills to have you fuck it up at the premier. Eighteen months on an island with angry natives and a pair of wannabe superstars with far too much sexual tension does not make me happy, boys. So, I don’t care if you have to carry him into the theater and make the speech yourself, you both will be there or, so help me, you will never work in the town again.” She growled, glaring between the two men before pivoting on her heel and stalking out of the room.

“Scary bitch,” Blaine grumbled under his breath as he grabbed another beer out of the mini fridge.

“I completely understand the absurd level of intoxication necessary to keep up with the charade, I would appreciate it if you could keep the alcohol consumption to minimum while lying here with a goddamn concussion,” Kurt seethed, his hand resting on his forehead. Blaine sighed and knelt down next to the other man, pressing the cold bottle against Kurt’s aching skull.

“I can do it,” the paler man snapped, taking the bottle from his costar and holding it to his temple, “go put on a shirt, would you? Your lack of clothing is barbaric.” Blaine glanced down at his bare chest and smirked, resting his arm on the back of the couch and leaning over the other man.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, Mr. Hummel?” He inquired, his voice sultry and an eyebrow raised in the most seductive manner he could muster. Kurt turned away quickly, wincing at the pain that shot up his neck. Blaine chuckled and leaned closer into Kurt’s side, his lips barely a centimeter away from the other man’s ear.

“Oh Kurt, you flatter me,” he whispered, batting his eyelashes as his hot breath fanned over the side of Kurt’s face. Kurt suppressed a shiver and pressed his hand flat against Blaine’s torso, the coarse hair slipping through his fingers and tickling his palm.

“You have absolutely no concept of personal space, do you?” he hissed, shoving Blaine off the couch and sitting up far too quickly. Kurt rolled the bottle of beer to the other man and stood up, slowly making his way toward the bathroom to finish getting dressed. Blaine popped open the beer and down most of it one go, his head swirling from lack of oxygen when he finally pushed himself off of the floor and began searching for his dress shirt and suit jacket.

“You have 10 minutes to get your asses out there,” the producer yelled through the door just as Kurt put the finishing touches on his hair and Blaine readjusted the lapel on his jacket. Both men rechecked their appearances in the mirror one last time before linking hands and exiting the dressing room. The theater was a large, overly crowded room brimming with celebrities and socialites for across the country. The lights flickered and the pair took the stage at the head of the room, microphones clipped to their lapels.

“Good evening,” Kurt greeted the crowd brightly, “it is an honor to have to you all here with us tonight.”

“This is new to us,” Blaine continued, “and our producer, stand up Shelia, told us if we didn’t make a speech we’d never work again.” He paused for laughter and winked over exaggeratedly, “Kidding aside, this movie was incredible to work on. I, no, we are completely humbled to have been a part of this amazing film.”

“The story was inspiring,” Kurt picked up, squeezing Blaine’s hand, “it touched our hearts and we can only hope that we did the characters justice.”

“We want to thank you, because,” Blaine cut in, smiling over at Kurt, “beyond this film, beyond my music and Kurt’s work on Broadway, you have supported us as both separate people and as a couple. You will never know how much it means to us to have such a strong support system.”

“Equality has always been an issue in this country, like many others, and your support is just another step in the right direction. Another step toward gay marriage becoming legal throughout America, another step toward homosexuality being accepted rather than shunned, another step toward what freedom really means.” Kurt continued, “You being here with us mean the world to me, because someday, I want to call this man my husband.” The theater erupted in cheers, chants for the pair to kiss ringing in their ears. Both men were wide eyed, the jaws slack and heads swimming. Kurt tried to force out a snarky comment, only to find his voice caught in his throat and his lips pleasantly preoccupied. Blaine’s hands gripped desperately at his costar’s hips, his lips moving urgently over the other man’s. Blood pounded in their ears, drowning out the cheers and shrieks that feel the auditorium, while their hearts hammer frantically at their ribcages. Maybe later Kurt would blame his words on the margaritas he’d consumed on the ride to the event; perhaps Blaine would whisper in his ear that it was all a publicity stunt while a flush rose in his cheeks. Quite possibly, after it was all said and done, after the movie had been released worldwide and the hype had died down, the couple would have a scandalous break up that would be the headline for every tabloid in America, just as the producers had instructed when the idea was first presented. But then again… none of that seemed very likely after the vows and rings were exchanged nearly three years later, mere days after gay marriage was legalized throughout the United States.

4 pages and 2,242 words later I have completed Tuesday’s Prompt for Klaine Week. I can’t...

Mon, 12 Mar 2012 13:09:44 -0400

4 pages and 2,242 words later I have completed Tuesday’s Prompt for Klaine Week. I can’t wait for you guys to read it!

Klaine Week: Prompt One: Baby/Kid Klaine

Mon, 12 Mar 2012 01:02:00 -0400

Klaine Week

Prompt One: Klaine as Kids/Babies

Rating: K

“One more day away from the shop won’t kill me,” Burt Hummel mumbled, glancing at his wife with pleading eyes, “Stan’s got everything covered.” Elizabeth sighed and flicked on her turn signal, eyes darting to the rearview mirror, the reflection an image of her three year old son playing with his shoe clad feet and giggling.

“We could just sign it over to him,” she quipped, “Milano’s Tire and Lube has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“I just don’t think it is necessary that he goes to daycare.” Burt argued, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering out the window. A break in traffic allowed Elizabeth to maneuver the van into the daycare parking lot.

“I suppose he shouldn’t go to school either, Burt?” his wife inquired as she pulled into an empty parking space and put the car in park.

“That isn’t fair, Elizabeth.” He snapped, running a hand through his thinning hair. Elizabeth turned in her seat, resting a palm on her husband’s forearm.

“I have to go back to work, honey, unless you’d rather we live in the refrigerator box that Kurt plays spaceship in.” she reasoned with a heavy sigh.

“Spaceship go vroom, vroom!” Kurt exclaimed from the backseat, “Vroom, vroom mommy. Vroom, vroom daddy.” The toddler squealed and kicked his feet excitedly, flinging his Power Ranger action figure across the seat.

“Vroom, vroom baby.” His parents echoed. Burt scrubbed a hand over his eyes and glanced over his shoulder at his son.

“He’s getting so big,” he whispered.

“Kurt’s big boy!” Kurt sing-songed, “I’m a big boy, right daddy? Right?”

“Yes, you’re a big boy, sweetie.” Burt responded with a smile, “You’re growing up way too fast, buddy.”

“Big boys go to daycare, right? I go to daycare?” Kurt asked with wide eyes. Elizabeth shot her husband and pointed look and turned off the car. Burt sighed and unbuckled before going around to the other side of the van and taking Kurt out of his car seat. Elizabeth pushed open the door and the sound of excited children met Burt’s ears, his son’s eyes widened in awe as he attempted to wiggle out of his father’s grasp.

“You must be the Hummel’s,” a young, blonde woman panted as she peeled a toddler off of her legs and placed them on her shoulders, “I’m Amy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Elizabeth greeted with a smile as Burt grunted in response. Kurt whined and attempted to free himself from his father’s arms again, pouting when he couldn’t get away. Amy motioned for the family to follow her, laughing when another child latched on to her leg.

“He can go ahead and go play while you sign him in, if you want.” She explained with a flick of her wrist, “It’s not a big deal or anything.” Burt tightened his arms around his son as he took in the large, child filled room.

“Down, daddy, down.” Kurt whined, “Please.” He added as an afterthought. Burt planted a kiss on the wriggling toddler’s head before lowering him to the ground and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I love you, buddy,” he murmured, ruffling his son’s hair. Kurt scrunched up his face and hugged his mother’s legs before venturing further into the room. Several older boys chased each other around the large room, narrowly avoiding toys that had been scattered about by other children. Kurt clutched his Power Ranger to his chest with one hand and waved frantically at his parents with the other before hurrying across the room toward a Playskool kitchen set. A toddler with short, curly hair was leaning over a wooden baby doll crib, humming softly.

“Can I play?” Kurt asked quietly, hesitating just in front of the striped rug. The toddler whirled around quickly, a finger pressed to his lips.

“Sleeping,” he whispered, gesturing to the doll in the crib. A timer on the play stove dinged and the curly haired boy clapped a hand over his mouth before rushing over and opening the oven door. The boy removed a plastic tray from the oven and placed it on the Playskool table.

“Sit,” he murmured, pulling out a chair for Kurt before taking his own seat.

“My name is Kurt,” the pale boy announced as he sat down and lifted a plastic teacup, filled with the best imaginary tea, to his lips.

“Blaine,” the curly haired boy replied with a grin, “and that’s Bea.” Blaine pointed to the doll in the crib.

“Like patty cake?” Kurt inquired with wide eyes, “That’s so cool!” Blaine smiled proudly and puffed out his chest. Kurt poured his friend another cup of tea and Blaine dropped an imaginary cookie on the pale boy’s plate. Blaine’s cup clattered down onto his plate and he jumped in his seat.

“Bea’s crying!” he exclaimed, widening his eyes dramatically.

“Oh no! She wants daddy!” Kurt pointed out, “Go!” Blaine shook his head and looked around the play space frantically, grinning when he found one of the many princess rings that the girl’s hand brought over from the dress up area.

“Here,” he murmured as he slipped the ring on Kurt’s finger, “Me daddy one, you daddy two. Now Bea wants you too.” Kurt bit his lip and scooped the doll from crib. Blaine looked at the sticker clock stuck to the plastic microwave and gasped.

“Time for work,” he announced, “you stay with Bea.” He tugged on a small suit jacket and tie before placing a hat on his head.

“I cook dinner,” Kurt told him, cradling Bea to his chest. Blaine kissed the doll on the top of the head.

“Bye, sweetie.” He murmured and pressed a kiss to Kurt’s cheek like his daddy did to his mommy every morning. Kurt blushed and ducked his head before wishing Blaine a good day at work and putting Bea to bed. Kurt liked being daddy number two… especially if Blaine was daddy number one.

Its Klaine Week! Woo!

Sun, 11 Mar 2012 23:37:41 -0400

Just finished with Monday’s prompt! Can’t wait to post it.

Don't ever hesitate. Reblog this. This should be in the tumblr laws. When you see it, REBLOG IT.

Tue, 21 Feb 2012 20:34:05 -0500

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7567470/1/Shy_of_the_Yellow_Brick_Road

Mon, 13 Feb 2012 00:25:00 -0500

Hello my lovelies, I’m about to make a sales pitch, excited? No? Me either. So let’s cut straight to the chase. I’m here to shamefully, no that is NOT a typo, promote myself. Above this wonderful little post is a link to one of my older stories that has recently been brought to my attention again with a little help from some friends. I do have a slight, and I mean very slight, added bonus set up for you if you visit the link, ready? All of my stories, including Of Gold Stars and Hair Gel as soon as I have access to my own computer, will be linked to that account and fully accessible in one convenient location. Now I leave you with one last sales pitch, the most important one: information on the story.

Title: Shy of the Yellow Brick Road
Summmary: Only Oz’s most elite were allowed past the wrought iron gate that guarded Oscar Diggs Academy and Kurt Hummel just became one of them; along with a pyrotechnically gifted freshman, an overexcited sophomore, and an extremely cute, openly gay prefect!
Glee - Rated: T - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 1 - Words: 8,750 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 11-20-11 - Kurt H. & Blaine A.

Beautifully Tragic: New Spoilers headcannon

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 12:38:26 -0500

Beautifully Tragic: New Spoilers headcannon:

samantha1912:

What if Blaine is the one in the car accident and the childhood flashbacks are Cooper’s thoughts as he looks at Blaine lying in a hospital bed in a coma or something. Like maybe he thinks about growing up with Blaine and how much he loves his little brother and then he remembers the Sady Hawkins…

Reblog if you love to write.

Fri, 10 Feb 2012 11:46:40 -0500

Whether it be fanfiction, original stories, drabbles, songs, poems, books, or anything that has to do with creative words, then reblog. Let’s gather all the writers of Tumblr together.

rawrrcarly: the-drops-of-jupiter: life-live-to-the-fast-lane: ...

Sat, 04 Feb 2012 00:41:48 -0500

rawrrcarly:

the-drops-of-jupiter:

life-live-to-the-fast-lane:

cest-la-musique:

jackdandlove:

u-n-d-e-r-pressured:

walkingwithcorpses:

whitelikewinter:

goodbye video, it’s really shitty so yeah

Oh dear jesus, you have me crying.
Sweetie, I’m absolutely begging you, please don’t do this. This is going to sound so cliche & so stupid, but you really are so stronger than you ever could imagine & you’ve been fighting through this for such a long time, that if you weren’t I know you would’ve given up a long time ago. Please hang in there, you deserve to be here. You can make it through this, I believe in you <3

COME ON GUYS YOU’VE SAVED ME, GO SAVE HER!

PLEASE DO NOT GIVE UP.

Guys, don’t let her do this. please.

FUCKING REBLOG THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAVE HER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

don’t like fucking reblog!

reblog please guys

FUCKING HELL, OMG, THIS GIRL, EVERYBODY NEEDS TO REBLOG AND WATCH, ITS ONLY A COUPLE OF SECONDS.

REBLOG RIGHT NOW !!! REBLOG DON’T EVEN TAKE A SECOND TO THINK ABOUT IT ! JUST DO IT RIGHT NOW !!! SAVE HER LIFE!!!

GUYS COME ON! WE NEED HER! REBLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perfect Disaster Prologue

Wed, 01 Feb 2012 22:17:00 -0500

Rating: T

Warnings: Minor Swearing, mild spoilers for Michael, and based loosely around Grant Gustin’s appearance on CSI: Miami.

Kurt Hummel was exhausted, he’d been so worried about his boyfriend all day that he hadn’t been able to avoid a single locker slam that day and all he wanted was to crawl under his sheets and sleep. The pale teenager grabbed his backpack from the back seat of his navigator and stumbled up the front steps, fumbling with his keys all the way. A sigh of relief passed through his lips as he jingled the handle on the front door, pleased to find it already unlocked.

“Why him?” an all too familiar voice met his ears and he felt his blood begin to boil as he made his way deeper into the house.

“Sebastian, you have to understand,” his step mother murmured in a thick voice, “I didn’t choose what happened to me.” The sound of a fist colliding with the kitchen counter caused Kurt to jump, his hand resting against his chest and his heart thudding wildly.

“Yeah, well, if you were any kind of a mother you wouldn’t have let it happen to me!” Sebastian yelled, slamming his hand down onto the marble surface again.

“What the hell is going on?” Kurt demanded from the kitchen doorway. Carole’s red rimmed eyes met his bright blue ones, her cheeks puffy and tear streaked. Sebastian glowered over at him, his palms pressed flat against the counter as he supported himself on trembling arms.

“Kurt, sweetie, I think it would be best if you went to see Blaine for a little while,” Carole whispered, her eyes darting between the two teenage boys.

“I want to know what he is doing here,” her stepson rephrased, gripping the doorframe tightly and raising a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “and why he has you in tears.”

“It is fine, Kurt, really… I just think you should-,”

“Are you that ashamed of me?” Sebastian growled, rounding on the woman, “Does my presence offend you in some way? Should I just up and leave like you did? Would you be able to understand me better if I manufactured a new identity?” Carole flinched, her eyes falling closed and her bottom lip quivering.

“What makes you think you have the right to speak to her that way?” Kurt argued, narrowing his eyes and advancing on the other boy.

“I have more right than you ever will,” Sebastian spat, his lip curling in disgust.

“I don’t care if your father is a state’s attorney or the fucking Pope, I will not stand by idly while you disrespect my mother.” The pale teen growled, jabbing his finger into the other boy’s chest as he backed him up against the counter.

“I haven’t said a single word against your mother,” Sebastian countered, jerking his chin upwards, his torso going rigid as his back met the marble countertop, “I was raised not to speak ill of the dead; now, how about you go visit your mom while I finish this chat with mine.” Kurt froze, his hand poised and ready to strike the other boy, and turned to face his stepmother.

“Carole, what is he talking about?” he inquired, his mouth suddenly dry and his face paling drastically.

“Kurt, I think you should have a seat,” she whispered, “there is something I need to tell you and your brother.”

You guys are AMAZING! Thank you so much!

Sun, 29 Jan 2012 01:06:31 -0500

I never expected ‘Of Gold Stars and Hair Gel’ to get any sort of a following and I am so touched that you guys actually care about the story! You all are really amazing! Now, down to business. I have been writing and rewriting the Hospital drabble for weeks now and it just isn’t working… sadly, my mind is totally devoted to that and not producing anymore ideas. That is where you guys come in. If there is something you’d like to see in a new chapter, shoot me a prompt, my ask box is ALWAYS open (for anything). If you don’t want to message/ask me, feel free to answer this post. I’d love to hear your ideas! You all are truly amazing and your loyalty means so much to me!

So, prompts?

Okay guys, quick 'Of Gold Stars and Hair Gel' question for you.

Mon, 23 Jan 2012 20:38:50 -0500

It’s been a long time since I posted Chapter 3… I feel absolutely awful but some things went down and I pretty much lost inspiration. I think I might be able to work on it again now that things have blow over. Now, the question… Do you want me to continue or should I abandon ship?

Reblog if you would care if I killed myself.

Sun, 22 Jan 2012 00:41:02 -0500

tyleroakley: If you’re feeling alone or just need someone to...

Sun, 22 Jan 2012 00:27:42 -0500

tyleroakley:

If you’re feeling alone or just need someone to talk things through with, call The Trevor Project ANYTIME: 866-4U-TREVOR - they’re confidential and toll-free, available 24/7.