i feel horribly uncomfortable doing this, and oh how i wish there was another way, but things have gotten worse and i’m in an incredibly tight spot financially right now. as some of you may have noticed, there is now a donate button on my blog (located in my updates tab under the ‘please?’ because tumblr fucked up and really doesn’t want it in my sidebar apparently).
i know there’s a load of posts like this one flying around and i absolutely get that people want to scroll past this so i’ll try and make it short? in one sentence: i don’t have the money for my tuition. my family and i have been doing the math over and over for the past few weeks and pulling our hair in despair, we don’t have enough and we won’t have enough.
i receive a small merit scholarship that i bust my ass working for (because as soon as i drop under 3.8, bye bye) and i have a job. my parents work inhuman hours already, and i can’t ask them for more. with what we earn, i normally should be eligible for financial aid, only i’m not a US citizen or permanent resident so i can’t. and i understand the logic behind this—you don’t pay taxes, don’t expect help from the government. only we do pay taxes—but anyway. we can afford part of the tuition, but even if we like, completely cut off leisure expenses, i’m still 11,000 dollars short. i have no idea how i’m going to come up with that kind of money by myself, and it’s been driving me crazy with anxiety.
i hate hate hate hate using “my story” and i swear i’m not trying to present it as a tearjerker, i’m just really really scared? i have a history of serious depression and suicide attempts and globally just… the last four years have been incredibly shitty. moving to the US probably saved my life, going back to school gave me back my will to live—literally. it’s been hard but worth it, and i’ve been actually doing great. i’m terrified of going back to that “dark place” and i don’t know what to do, and that’s the only reason i refer to this.
i know 11,000 is a huge amount, but if every follower i have gave 2$ i’d be okay. and that still feels like too much to ask. i know a lot of you are as broke as i am and maybe even worse, and you can’t donate, but please reblog to spread the word.
i don’t believe any of what i produce is worthy of commission, but if ever you are interested in a piece of writing (i write poetry and fiction) or a graphic or whatever really as a thank you for a donation please please please do tell me i’d be glad to give something back to you
i am infinitely grateful already. you’ve all already been of great help and support and no matter what happens, thank you so much. i love you.
AU: Blaine is a florist and Kurt is a tattoo artist, ~2.5k words
Warnings: hastily-written words, probably way too much fluff
anon prompted: If you could do mpreg!blaine where kurt is super over protective of blaine and he goes a little overboard with it. and one night blaine gets a craving for something but kurts asleep so blaine sneaks out to a nearby diner to get it thinking it won’t take but a few minutes and when he comes back kurts awake and freaks out on blaine. bonus points if the baby kicks particularly hard during their sorta argument spending kurt in a frenzy <3
changed the prompt a little, hon, i hope you don’t mind, and i’m sorry it took so long!
word count: ~2.4k
At first it was sweet.
Almost before the words “I’m pregnant!” had passed Blaine’s lips Kurt was making a real endeavour to reduce effort for him. Gone were the days where Blaine would have to stretch up on the tips of his toes for spices at the top of the cupboards - now Kurt would crowd up behind him, press a kiss to the back of his neck and get it down for him with ease. No longer would he have to get up to grab popcorn or a drink in the evenings - Kurt made sure that once his butt landed on the couch, it stayed there until they both got up to go to bed unless Blaine needed to go to the bathroom.
Blaine kind of liked having his husband at his beck and call, especially because it meant he pretty much never had to do groceries alone and Kurt was always down to get pizza if Blaine pulled the ‘eating for two’ card, rubbed his steadily-growing belly and fluttered his eyelashes. As their child grew inside Blaine, so did Kurt’s protectiveness, and when Blaine hit five months it got…slightly out of control.
Screw you, Darren Criss.
Screw you, and your suit, and your facial hair, and your perfect face, and your adorable dancing and your damn voice.