So much to live for. So much to die for.

(via smythehummels)

laertena:

“Coffee?”

Background story: Blaine and Kurt are the Doctor’s new companions. Went to Cardiff to refuel and bumps into Torchwood. And then, yeah. Something like that.

—-

Blaine Anderson (Glee) and Ianto Jones (Torchwood)

they’re my favorite coffee boys okay

I’m trying to draw again :u

(via rrrowr)

evarren:

jellyfilledcondoms:

He had spent the entirety of his afterlife following around Kurt Hummel. He had this red string wound around his fingers and hand, and when he had woken up in the big white room, his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had followed it to the other end - which was wrapped around the wrist of the thin boy. Kurt seemed to be oblivious to it, and to Blaine, which confused him. It wasn’t until a kind woman with eyes that looked exactly like Kurt’s tapped him on the shoulder and explained his situation.

Blaine was meant for Kurt. They were meant to meet and fall in love, and fight and separate and then find their way to each other again, fall in love again, grow old together. They were supposed to, had Blaine survived the car crash. Blaine was a ghost, and was now able to see the red string of fate - but he was unable to do anything about it. He would be forced to watch the love of his old life suffer, and he couldn’t stop anything. 

Please, just see me, he begged, reaching out and trying to touch Kurt’s shoulder, his fingers brushing through and managing nothing. He had been trying so hard, for what felt like years, to just get through to Kurt. He was in love with this boy who couldn’t even see him, who had no idea he existed, who hurt everyday and had no idea that somebody loved him. It pained Blaine to follow Kurt around, to hear the taunts, to see him getting pushed around and slammed and hit and to see him cry when he thought no one was looking, and know that he couldn’t do anything about it. He would sit next to Kurt, reaching out and lightly placing his hand over Kurt’s, feeling the difference between the warmth of Kurt’s hand and the coolness of his own, and wish and pray and hope and shout that things could be different. When he wasn’t with Kurt, he was crying into the shoulder of the kind woman who looked so much like Kurt, who understood what it was like to watch someone in pain and not be able to do something about it. She too wore a red string around her wrist, and seemed to be highly sympathetic to Blaine’s plight.

One night while Blaine had nothing to do but wait (and wait he did), the woman appeared, taking Blaine’s hand and leading him down a hallway, their red strings getting shorter and shorter as they moved towards a house Blaine knew well - the Hummel home. He was confused, but he followed her, until she stood in the living room, in front of the couch, where Kurt was tucking a blanket around his father. The woman lifted her wrist, and Blaine followed the string across the room, where the other end was wrapped around Burt’s wrist.

I know it’s difficult to watch him in pain, she said softly, her eyes on her husband. But it’s worth it to see him smile. She turned, her eyes landing on Blaine. It will get better. I promise. Blaine looked across the room, his eyes resting on the lithe form of the boy who held the other end of his string, and he hoped that the woman was right.

s t o p omg im crying

Just bringing this back, because oh god the TEARS

I love ghost!Blaine sfm 

(via evarrenarchive)

questionable-morals:

“Blaine, what was that?” Kurt sat up, listening.

Blaine tugged on the other boy’s arm. “It’s nothing.”

“No.” Kurt went to the window. “I think there’s someone outside.”

He grabbed his coat, and Blaine followed less enthusiastically.

The two found themselves outside, staring down at the man who was currently babbling incoherently to himself.

“Is he okay?” Kurt whispered.

“Um…sir?” said Blaine, tentatively.

The man looked at them, eyes wild.

“Be careful, Blaine,” hissed Kurt.

The man’s eyes focused. “Blaine. You’re Blaine.”

Kurt’s grip on Blaine tightened.

“Who wants to know?” said Blaine.

“I’m the Doctor,” the man said, jovially. He picked himself off the ground. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sorry?” said Blaine, blinking at the man’s mood swing.

“Yes, sorry, this must be confusing, the timelines are all wonky right now, very important moment right now—” The man paused. “You have to come with me,” he said, urgently. “Both of you.”

“What?” said Kurt.

“Blaine, listen to me. I have a message from your mom,” the man said, voice still urgent.

“My…mom…?” said Blaine. “Why didn’t she just call…?”

The Doctor rubbed his neck. “I mean your biological mom.”

Kurt’s eyes widened, and he turned to look at Blaine, who had gone white.

“She said to tell you, ‘the only water in the forest is the river,’” the Doctor continued. “But you really need to come with me, right now.”

Blaine’s eyes narrowed. “You know my mother? Tell me what her name is, then.”

The Doctor grinned widely. “Well…River Song.”

Oh God I honestly love your brain.

(via kindymaling)

slytherin-morals:

Okay. Deep breaths. I am probably the only person in history who is putting her porner virginity on the dashes of over 3,000 people, but here goes nothing. Here are parts one two three four five six seven and eight.

One of the many problems with dating a boy in reform school is that Kurt only ever really got to see him within the school.

The second problem was that Blaine was never going to say “no.” Blaine was going to keep pushing Kurt’s boundaries, which was…problematic when they were in a school.

Most of the time, Kurt was able to say no, when Blaine’s hands started moving south and breathing grew heavier.

But today they were in an empty classroom, and Kurt found himself guiding Blaine’s hands lower, rather than higher, and deepening their kisses rather than breaking away.

Blaine seemed to enjoy this turn of events, and enthusiastically went to work on Kurt’s neck, kissing down to his collarbone, and then dropping to his knees as his mouth went even lower.

He looked up at Kurt, waiting for the boy to signal him to stop, but the boy was looking down at him, eyes dark. He moved his hand to Blaine’s hair, tentatively running a hand through it. Blaine felt a heat coiling in his stomach, and tugged at Kurt’s pants, which came off easily.

Kurt, looking self-conscious, made as if to cover up, but Blaine stopped him. “No…don’t.” He kissed up Kurt’s thigh.

Kurt made a small noise that went straight to Blaine’s cock, and Blaine smirked, taking Kurt into his mouth. Kurt groaned.

The feel of the warm metal of Blaine’s tongue piercing against his skin made Kurt’s knees go weak, and he grabbed onto the desk behind him. Blaine smiled, dragging his tongue from the base of Kurt’s cock to the tip, and back down. The other boy shuddered.

“Blaine,” he groaned out.

Blaine smiled, moving back so he wasn’t touching Kurt at all. “Yes?”

“Don’t stop,” he ground out.

And then Blaine took him all the way into his mouth, and Kurt couldn’t even be bothered to stifle the moans as Blaine worked his mouth up and down. “Blaine, Blaine—oh, fuck, Blaine. You should—”

But Blaine kept going, and Kurt let go. Blaine swallowed all of Kurt’s come, smirking and licking his lips. He stood up, kissing Kurt hard.

“You’re amazing,” breathed Kurt into his ear.

“Oh, I know. Maybe next time you can return the favor,” whispered Blaine.

(via kindymaling)

slytherin-morals:

So, are you sick of these yet, Tumblr? TOO BAD. For those of you keeping score at home, this is part eight. If you want the other parts…one two three four five six and seven.

As much as he loved his friends, it was kind of nice to not have to deal with them for a couple hours every week, so he was secretly relieved when no one offered to come with him. He stepped through the doors of Dalton Academy, smiling at the secretary, who waved him through.

He arrived in the huge basement area where the boys usually hung out and where Miss Richards was usually located to tell him what to do, but there was none of the chaos he had come to expect from the Dalton boys. In fact, there were very few Dalton boys present.

“Miss Richards?” he said.

“Oh, Kurt…I should have told you last week. It’s parents’ day, so most of the students are with their parents.” She looked apologetic. “You can probably go home…”

Kurt had stopped paying attention to her as an angry boy stalked up the stairs to his right. Blaine looked down, catching Kurt’s eye, and paused, before continuing up the stairs.

Kurt tuned back into what Miss Richards was saying. “Oh, it’s not problem. I’ll just…go…” He ran for the stairs, following Blaine.

He heard crashes coming from an empty classroom, and entered warily. “Blaine?”

The shorter boy stood in the middle of several overturned desks, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I look fucking okay?” growled the other boy, turning to face him. He moved forward between the desks, striding towards Kurt, until Kurt was backed up to a desk and Blaine was way too close.

“Blaine—” started Kurt, hands against the desk behind him.

The anger suddenly left Blaine’s eyes, replaced by deadness. The spark that seemed omnipresent in Blaine was gone, and Kurt felt a sudden desire to hug the other boy.

“Blaine…is this about parents’ day?”

Blaine smiled bitterly. “Father dearest wanted to know if reform school had turned me straight yet.”

“What?”

“And it doesn’t matter because I can’t stop thinking about—” Blaine’s mouth clamped shut, and he moved back from Kurt like he’d been burnt.

“Can’t stop thinking about what?” asked Kurt, following him forward.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Blaine exploded, and suddenly the spark was back in his eyes.

“Well,” said Kurt, voice a lot braver than he felt. “Maybe we should kiss. You never know, maybe that’s all you need to straighten you out.”

Blaine glared at him. “You’re not funny.”

Kurt moved closer. And closer. “Who says I was joking?” He breathed, inches away from Blaine. Suddenly, the other boy moved and their lips met.

They broke apart, Kurt moving back. “So?” he said, in a teasing voice. “Are you straight now?”

Blaine smirked. “Oh, totally.” He stepped closer, grinning. “Completely—” Step. “—totally—” Step. “—100%—” He was a foot away from Kurt. “—straight.” He backed Kurt up against the desk. “No spark at all,” he breathed in Kurt’s ear, and nipped at his earlobe.

Are you trying to fucking kill me? more more more moremoremore!

(via kindymaling)