This is a project began by illocutionary; for the month of February 2011, I will be writing daily short vignettes starring David Karofsky of Glee. Possible Kurtofsky, Blave, Fave, Dazi bromance may appear. I may also reblog other people's works and draw inspiration from that. If you do not want me to use your work, tell me and I will take it down immediately. Original tumblr is Teii.
Only six seconds of Max talking has caused this…
So I have one hand over my mouth, and the other clutching my heart. I need to grow a third one so I can wipe away all this stupid water coming out of my eyes so I can see and other silly stuff like that.
Er.
Does anyone know what the name of that one fic where Kurt is hiding underneath the bleachers and a nice, comfortable with sexuality Dave finds him and introduces Kurt to the football team? I’d love to read it again.
edit: nevermind, i found it, it’s called “in another life” by seleneheart
the wait; pg
So it’s over.
He goes back to his car. Not running. Not looking back. Unlocks the door, throws the suit in the backseat, climbs into the driver seat and slams the door.
He waits. He can feel his heart thudding, racing from the adrenaline of seeing Walker in Breadsticks, but only faintly, and only only only slightly as a more vicious, brutal feeling of lacerations slices through his chest and he squeezes his eyes, shaking his head vigorously to stop his vision from blurring up. It went well, didn’t it? Kurt didn’t look like he hated him, he didn’t look like he was utterly disgusted at him…
He gasps, a shuddering, ragged, cold, wavery intake of air as he cradles his hands and tries to breathe back out again.
It takes him another hour for him to recover enough to drive home.
No. No. No. Not again.
Yeah. That’s cool. Crying over Karofsky without even watching the ep in its entirety. THAT’S REALLY COOL.
I can’t. I can’t I can’t I CAN’T. David Karofsky, DON’T DO THIS TO ME, I CAN’T HANDLE YOUR SAD FACE. OR YOUR SLIGHTLY HAPPY HI KURT YOU KIND OF LIGHT UP MY LIFE FACE. OR YOUR BEAUTIFUL FACE IN GENERAL. I CAN’T HANDLE ANYTHING RIGHT NOW.
Wake Up The Dream Is Over Is Coming Back…
“Hey, who the fuck’s this dude?” Azimio asks pointblank, jabbing a finger at a prone Blaine sleeping on Dave’s bed. A full four-hour rehearsal with Warbalers had completely drained him, but not enough to deter him from driving the forty minutes from Dalton to Dave’s house only to crash upon arrival.
Idiot. Dave thinks, as he hauled Blaine’s body upstairs. His poor mother might have a heart attack if he had simply left Blaine there practically comatose on the living room rug.
Now, he’s cursing himself for completely forgetting that Az was coming over for xbox night, now trapped with the inevitable explanation of why there’s a private school douchebag looking rich boy lying on his bed with a Green Bay Packers blanket wrapped nicely around him.
“Did you find him walking home all alone, crowbarred him, and take all his money and need me to help you dig a ditch?”
Dave looks up, and Az simply shrugs, “It’s what I carry a shovel in my truck for, dude,” he explains, sitting down in Dave’s beanbag chair and grasping for a controller, flicking on the console and Dave’s second hand tv. In a surprising display of gentlemanliness, he evens mutes the sound as he boots up Black Ops, to which Dave finally shuts down his laptop and wheels his chair over next to Az and picks up the other controller.
“You like him?”
Dave froze, but through some auto reflex, continued to mash the buttons in the correct order. What to do, what to do? Az is being extremely vague for a reason, to let him deny straight out, fuck, he can even go back to the whole ditch digging business.
“Yeah,” he manages to force out. He has more to say, but it dies before it even gets to his throat.
“Just saying, if you’re going to be a fairy for this dude, might as well milk it for all its worth: tell him you need a 360 for your birthday.”
“But I don’t need one,” Dave gestures at the screen.
“Not for you, for me, you dick.”
“Fuck you, dude,” Dave grunts, trying to keep from grinning. It seems that Az sort of knew all along in the first place.
Later on, Blaine semi-wakes up, blindly gropes for a controller and kills both of them in less than a minute with his face in the pillow, before rolling away, snoring.
“I’mma kill that fucker.” Az growls, staring at his now tarnished high score.
Just wanted to ask…
is there anything out there that has Dave Karofsky as Heavy from TF2? ;u;
Blossoms ; PG
Title: Blossoms
Author: illocutionary / wildthorns
Pairing(s): David/Kurt
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2250
Summary: Inspired by a Chinese folktale; David fell in love with a young man who won’t show his face.
My triumphal yet sporadic return to fandom, with a Dave/Santana friendship fic, set in the same continuity as The Boy Who Lives on Heaven Hill.
This was actually more fun to write than that one, if only cause of Santana’s dirty mind. And look! Celesteenui made it a banner.
Mission Accomplished ; pg-13
Summary: David-centric. Blaine plays sounding board to David’s thoughts this last year of high school. Mentions of Klaine; Blainofsky friendship.
Word Count: 1809
NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY
