Hi! I'm Darrian. And for those of you who just took a double-take, Darrian, not Darren. TRUST ME EVEN I DO THAT. I'm bisex (or bi-curious). I love Klaine. But, I'm a Chris Colfer fan. However, Starkid has a very important place in my heart as well, and not just because they have Darren Criss. People who watched it just because Darren Criss was in it should be shot. I MEAN WHAT :D Joey Richter, Brian Holden, Joe Walker, and everyone else are just as amazing. So, please enjoy my blog! Klaine forever <3 This a Klaine, Glee, Harry Potter, Supernatural, and Starkid fanblog. Once I watch enough of Doctor Who, it'll be of that as well. Enjoy!
"Music, to me, is the sound of meaning and is the embodiment of things you can't put into words. It is the empowerment of ideas through sound. And it means the world to me because it's what I enjoy to do." -Darren Criss
"She’s really pretty for a black girl"
“He’s really cool for a gay guy”
“She’s doing really well for a woman”
prompt: reaction fic for 5x16 where kurt reassures blaine he has nothing at all to be insecure about.
warnings: touches on blaine’s body image insecurity, but is all fluff & understanding & smut. yay healing smut.
Kurt holds Blaine tight, rubbing over his back and waiting until Blaine’s ready to pull away with a sniffle, his eyes red, teeth digging into his lip nervously. It breaks Kurt’s heart to see him this way - sometimes he forgets that Blaine is younger, that he can be so heartbreakingly insecure because he hasn’t built himself a tough exterior to deal with the world in the same way Kurt has.
"Hey," Kurt says softly, sweetly, cupping Blaine’s face between his hands and watching Blaine’s mouth twitch with a smile when he rubs away the tears on Blaine’s cheeks with his thumbs. "Come to bed with me?"
Blaine heaves out a shaky sigh. “Kurt, I don’t know—”
"Trust me, sweetie," Kurt says, and then Blaine’s nodding, fingering squeezing gratefully at Kurt’s as Kurt leads them into the bedroom.
To znks, on her very special birthday. :)
Also, coincidentally, as a fill for this GKM prompt.
Kurt shows Blaine just how much he loves his ass.
Contains: ass worship, rimming, spanking, barebacking, and comeplay.
"Oh my god, it looks like cottage cheese. I have a cottage cheese ass and we’re not even married yet. I have a cottage cheese ass before my first Tony, Kurt.”
"Blaine Devon Anderson, get away from that mirror right now.”
Blaine turns, and makes the face that he makes when he walks in on Sam and Mercedes going at each other. “I mean, even if it were like, evenly cottage cheese-y I might—but it’s like, patches, and that’s worse? Oh my god, when did this happen?”
He wriggles, and turns, and wriggles, and turns.
And that’s only the first five minutes of this conversation. It goes on for the better part of an hour, and Kurt feels his blood pressure rising steadily with every passing minute.
That and his traitorous penis, which doesn’t seem to mind at all the fact that Blaine has been bouncing and wriggling his half-naked ass for most of that time.
Kurt doesn’t want to go overboard trying to convince Blaine of the attractiveness of his softer parts if he truly hates them and wants to change for his own happiness—but he doesn’t want to pretend that he dislikes any part of Blaine, either. This is shaping up to be one of those times when he wants to say the right thing but ends up saying the exact wrong thing.
(Oh yes, we’ve reached the point where I’m naming klaine fic after a Gay Pimp song. If you expected better from me I regret to inform you that you’ve been following the wrong person all along.)
Blaine’s scrubbing a towel over his head and tugs it down to find Sam standing outside the bathroom door, waiting for his turn in the shower. “It’s okay, I didn’t take all the hot water,” he promises.
"Whew, good. I’ve got this audition today, they’ve emailed me like four times and it sounds weirder and weirder with each one - I just wanna be as clean and normal as possible, and also whoa."
"Whoa?" Blaine’s face scrunches in confusion, but Sam’s already got one hand hovering over the surface of the skin on his shoulder, and it makes contact as he slides down to Blaine’s upper arm, all the way to his elbow.
It didn’t take long for Burt to realize that Blaine was the weak link.
Neither of the boys were great fibbers, but Kurt excelled at diversions. He could talk around a question for hours, getting angry about something else until you were on the defensive and storming off in a huff before you even realized he hadn’t answered your question in the first place.
Blaine, on the other hand, carried with him a strong moral compass that made it nearly impossible for him to avoid answering a direct question when asked. Coupled with Blaine’s intense determination to stay on Burt’s good side (Burt didn’t know Blaine’s dad but he knew he was rather lacking in the warmth department, and he often wondered if that had anything to do with it), that compass made Blaine Anderson just about the worst liar Burt Hummel had ever seen.
Burt tried not to take advantage of that fact, but well—sometimes he just couldn’t help it. Like the first time Kurt asked to go to a sleepover at Mercedes’ house after he and Blaine had become official (Burt wouldn’t call it ‘started dating’ because those boys had been dating as long as they’d known each other). Blaine was over at the house for Friday dinner, and he and Burt were watching Sportscenter while Kurt finished up cooking.
"So what are you up to tomorrow night?" Burt asked during a commercial. Blaine froze, his cheeks turning pink.
"I, uh—" Blaine started, before rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. "Why do you ask?"
"Kurt’s hanging out with the girls tomorrow night, right?" Burt asked, frowning as Blaine’s mouth began working like a fish. "Blaine?"
"Yes?" Blaine asked, and Burt wasn’t sure which question it was meant to be a response to.
"Is Kurt hanging out with the girls tomorrow night?" Burt asked, and Blaine’s eyes turned big and sad.
"I think he said he was doing that," Blaine replied. "Right?"
"Kurt’s not having a sleepover with the girls, is he," Burt said, suddenly putting it all together. "He’s having a sleepover with you."
Blaine’s face crumpled. “Yes.”
Burt sighed, wishing he had a beer. “Ah, come on, don’t look like that.”
"I’m sorry," Blaine said. "We didn’t mean to lie—"
"Of course you did," Burt said, shaking his head. "You’re just no damn good at it."
I’ve wanted to write a wrap up for Surfends basically since it… Dwindled off and died, and today I finally got an idea for exactly how to do it.
So this is my send-off to that RP, and, sadly that universe. <3
It would be weird, maybe, if it wasn’t the same grocery store that Chris always went to. It turns out that even if a place changes your life entirely, that place doesn’t get put up in a glass case to be observed from a distance for the rest of time. No, Chris has continued to go to this Ralphs every week or so ever since it changed his life, and he assumes they will continue to go there until they can afford to support the local markets or they move.
Besides, he can’t let it be weird. The entirety of Venice is now saturated with his memories, moments, and milestones, so letting any of them take on a heavier atmosphere is just… Illogical. It’s just a grocery store, and that pier is just a pier, and that ice cream shack is just an ice cream shack. Except… At the same time, they’re really not.
Chris just published his first book, and Darren is an employee at a bookstore that’s selling it.
[ AO3 ] 4.1k
It’s probably one of the silliest things that Chris has ever done in his life, and considering he basically jumped from 10-years-old to 60, he hasn’t had a lot of time in his life for silly. For that reason, it makes Chris uncomfortable enough to feel like he shouldn’t be doing what he’s doing, but not uncomfortable enough for him to give up on the endeavor completely. Even if he feels like the most ridiculous person on the planet, hiding beneath a hat he never wears and behind a pair of glasses he only needs for reading and writing. All he’s missing to complete his please take no notice of me ensemble is a big trench coat.
"Can I help you find anything?" A voice is suddenly asking him, and Chris nearly jumps out of his skin before he remembers that he isn’t in some sort of spy movie, and just because he feels like he’s wearing a stupid disguise doesn’t mean that everyone else has noticed.