Az's fic rec blog
"My new FBI partner is really hot" with Klaine please!

hazelandglasz:

Roooh :3

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I love it !!

Blaine is not particularly proud of it, but he gets a little thrill whenever he can say “Special Agent Blaine Anderson”.

Ok, so maybe he’s not a field agent, and he’s a “geek” working at the Science and Technology Branch, but that doesn’t change anything : he’s still a special agent and he still works for the FBI.

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Fic: maybe Monday, maybe not

breakbonefever:

All Blaine wants is to find a nice, reasonably attractive, twentysomething gay guy who will laugh at most of his jokes and hold his hand sometimes and not make fun of his sweater vests.  Is that really so much to ask?  AU, PG-13, ~13,500 words.  [AO3]

Written for the klainebingo prompt blind date.

AUGUST

As with most of the bad decisions Blaine’s made in his life, this one starts with alcohol.

He and Sam decided to invite a bunch of people over for one last end-of-summer get-together.  Blaine’s starting his last year at AMDA next week, and a lot of their friends’ semesters will be starting soon, too, which means they’ll all have less time to hang out like this, sprawled around his and Sam’s living room, arguing about whether Tony Stark is a better businessman than Bruce Wayne.

There was some talk of going out earlier, but at this point, they’re all several drinks in, and it looks like it’s going to be another long night of drinking games and falling asleep in uncomfortable positions on the floor.

At some point, the conversation somehow turns to Blaine’s love life – or lack thereof.

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zavocado:

Alrighty, so there’s this college AU list I just reblogged annnnd I think I’m gonna try to write Klaine drabbles for most of them. So here’s one with Klaine and hermit crabs that I might continue at some point. Not edited, pet the pretty typos. Enjoy the cuteness.

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            ”Blaine, Blaine! Help, you’ve gotta hide Mr. Onion.”

            A hand hits his pillow and then his head. Blaine grumbles and yanks his blankets up over his face. It’s Friday morning. His first Friday of his first semester away at college, and he’s already regretting rooming with his best friend and his pet hermit crab.

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spinmybowtie:

Klaine Bingo Fic #8: Stripping
Early!Klaine, NC-17, ~3300 words, warnings for stripping!fail and intergluteal sex
Thanks to therewasagirlwhowantedtofly for reading this over for me!

Kurt arranges and rearranges the candles at least five times while he waits for Blaine to arrive. He can’t seem to keep still, and all the other preparations are already finished. The couch and coffee table are moved out of the way, replaced by a lone kitchen chair in the middle of the living room. He could have done this in his bedroom, but the sound system here is better, and his bed, while large and exceptionally comfortable, doesn’t give him the room he needs for what he has planned.

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Batshit crazy

hazelandglasz:

Ok

So

Earlier today, I posted a fic that was prompted by TWO of you anon peeps, roughly about Kurt and Blaine being youtubers revealing that they are dating and their fans going batshit crazy

And then because of the damn app, I deleted it (I swear, I only wanted to queue the evening and morning reboobs and it deleted it)

So here it goes, Youtuber!Klaine, crazy fans, take 2 …

Their channels are really different, but in a way, they complement each other.

Blaine vlogs about the different fandoms (televisions, books, etc.) and the way they show the way society evolves—most of the time, Blaine talks about the way society needs to evolve.

Meanwhile, Kurt vlogs about the many, inventive ways to be fashionable on a budget.

Together, they have more than a million and a half viewers and most of their “fans” adore them, finding their friendship adorable and inspiring.

Even if they have never met before VlogCon.

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afterthenovels:

Written for Kelsey who is lovely and asked for “a bit of conflict with a sweet ending”. 

I was feeling like college!Klaine, so here we go. :)

~2,100 words | [AO3]

 

“–and Anderson and Hummel. Alright, partner up, people!”

Blaine’s head snaps up from where he’s been staring at his notes without actually seeing anything. The professor has already turned her back on the class, and people around him are scrambling away from their seats to find their assigned partners, scripts in hand.

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FIC: Felt Like A Kiss; Kurt/Blaine (NC-17)

fierybeams:

Kurt/Blaine, NC-17 (13,007 words)

Summary: Kurt’s tongue stud opens up a world of possibilities that neither Kurt nor Blaine could have exactly anticipated. Character study and lots of smut naturally follow. Featuring sex toys, prostate play, heavy spanking, and anal. Warnings for some casual reference to Ambien, OCD, and canonical character death (Finn.) Dedicated to the incomparable Julia. <3 

It all starts with tales of that tattoo parlor. 

He’s staring at his laptop screen where Kurt’s webcam-filtered face is peering excitedly back at him. Kurt’s wrapped in a thin black bathrobe and looking slightly flushed, hair and skin noticeably damp. This, Blaine notes, perking up, is a good sign. It’s been a while since their nightly Skype sessions have led to anything beyond conversation, and Kurt taking the time to shower before calling is, well…suggestive.

Kurt looks exceedingly pleased with himself, giving Blaine a coy smirk that he hasn’t seen cross his features in weeks. Blaine grins back at him, feeling suddenly light and sunny because Kurt is glowing even through the grainy picture of the webcam and it’s been so long since he looked anything but slightly ill-lit.

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asdreamsmaycome:

(crackfic - inspired by this innocent text post by tyna…)

"Fluffer!"

There is no immediate answer to the photographer’s call. The room is filled with other sounds, to be fair, people talking, equipment being shuffled around, and nondescript dance music playing somewhere in the back. Blaine can’t be blamed for not hearing it. 

"Fluffer!" This time the shout is echoed by a much kinder, but still insistent, voice. 

Blaine is at Kurt’s side in seconds. 

"Yes, yes, sorry!" He inspects Kurt’s hair that is listing to the side. 

"Up and back, please," the photographer instructs. 

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Ficlet: Tempting Fate

gleekto:

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This little ficlet is my contribution to the klaine book project.

Summary:  Kurt and Blaine at the wedding that wasn’t and how they ended up together in a hotel room. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe. (4.14. reaction fic)

The art: Above is just a pic from the book of the sensational art done by i-wanna-be-a-klaine-ship-ranger who I’m tagging below in the hopes that she’ll post the original. I wanted to publish the story with it because it adds so much.

Tempting Fate

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Kurt takes a deep breath as he shakes his head in disbelief. This trip back to Lima for the wedding has already taken a few unexpected twists but he admits the runaway bride currently takes the uneaten wedding cake. The plan was simple- He was coming with Rachel. He’d have coffee with Blaine and they’d catch up . Despite the fact that they’ve been talking every other day since Christmas, it felt like the adult thing to say to your ex - We’ll have coffee. He’d sing with Mercedes for Mr Schuester and Ms Pillsbury, and he’d dance the night away with the girls to cheesy wedding music.  Flawless and easy. No drama.

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daltoneering:

we’ve been given permission to post our klaine book fics, so here’s mine!

Morning Song, PG, 631 words

Blaine is woken by the sun on his face, gently streaming in through the gap in his curtains and dancing over the rumpled bedclothes. He blinks, still half-asleep, and rolls over to nuzzle into his fiancé’s body.

The bed next to him is empty. He stretches a hand out, running his palm over the dent Kurt’s head left in the pillow. Kurt. His brand new fiancé.

There’s a loud clang from downstairs and Blaine smiles. Kurt must be making them breakfast.

He groans a little and rolls out of bed, shuffling over to the dresser and tugging on a pair of boxers and a loose shirt. In the mirror, his hair is an absolute mess, the result of Kurt’s lovely long fingers. Fingers that now wear a ring. He giggles to himself and heads downstairs, ready to steal a spoonful of Kurt’s pancake mix and then proceed to vigorously kiss him against the counter.

When he enters the kitchen, though, Kurt is not standing at the hob with a frying pan. He’s perched on one of the breakfast stools, a glass of milk in front of him, staring down at his left hand. The sun is trickling in through the blinds, lighting up his ethereal features and glinting on the bright band around his finger.

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