Anonymous asked: Let's Misbehave = PERFECT. can't wait to read the next part! <3
ASDfghjyukJTYhregrfwedfgrt can’t tell if this is the same anon from before but THANK YOU!! :D That means so much to me! See, I really tend to put a lot of myself into theses fics that a write (if anyone knew me they would be able to tell) so that is a HUGE compliment! So again, thank you very much! XO
Anonymous asked: ahh please carry on with let's misbehave :3
Oh my god D’: you really have no idea what it means to me that at least one person is reading my stories, especially this one. I’ve spent countless hours conjuring up ideas about this one and it is very, very special to me. I have so, so, so, so many ideas and I know you’re gonna love them ! :D So thank you so, so much for going out of your way and writing this to me :’) I really needed that.
Wow, geez, this is really fun to write :)
Please check out my Diarren inspiration blog here if you have the time!<3
Pairing: Darren Criss/Dianna Agron
Rated: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: Darren lives in a little house along with beach, in a some-what newly developing neighborhood during the summer. It’s the first time he’s decided to just…relax for once. The house across the street has been vacant for as long as he’s been living there. Guess who moves in?
“Dianna? Dianna! Hey!”
Dropping his hand from the door in defeat, Darren sighed. It was one-thirty in the afternoon. She had to be awake…
He walked to the backyard, ready to peer through the big glass door he already knew was in the back of the house but it was already open. A familiar song was blasting through the windows, but it took him a moment to believe his ears.
“If only you saw what I can see, you’ll understand why I want you so desperately!”
He jumped back suddenly when he saw a flash of blonde bobble by the door. There she was, bouncing around her apartment, flailing her limbs around wildly as she sang along with the song. Paint splattered in random directions from the light orange paintbrush Dianna was swinging around in her hand.
He covered his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing, shaking as he leaned against the window frame and watched the bubbly blonde flail her limbs to the beat of the song. Her hair flopped violently as she swayed her hips and kicked to the tempo. He refused to alert her of his presence as long as he could help it. This was far too much fun.
1 glee au: in which is not particularly easy for Blaine having a half French boyfriend.
I think my French is improving.
C’mon, it’s French, right?
No, but I love messing with you.
asdfghjkloiuytrewzxcvbnmokay.
(via sophisticatedloserchick)
AN: Soooo…I’ve gone and done one of the worst things an author can do. I’ve decided to abandon Siren. For now, anyway. Another idea came up in my head for a Diarren fic and it’s just been itching its way out! I couldn’t take it anymore. And I kinda feel like the last oene didn’t turn out that well anyway…it was just practice, I guess? Well, fingers crossed that this one’s better :3
My inspiration for this fic was a photo set created my quaintwin (bless her omgomgomg I aspire to be as good as her one day) right here. She actually even wrote a fix about it! Check it out, it’s fantastic! D’:
I now have a whole blog for Diarren inspiration called darrenxdianna if you’re interested. I can’t get enough of it myself. I’m on it ALL the time!
Pairing: Darren Criss/Dianna Agron
Rated: NC-17 (for later chapters)
Summary: Darren lives in a little house along with beach, in a some-what newly developing neighborhood during the summer. It’s the first time he’s decided to just…relax for once. The house across the street has been vacant for as long as he’s been living there. Guess who moves in?
Enjoy!
*
Darren awoke with a start, rubbing rapidly at his eyes and trying to focus enough to find the source of that wretched noise. He blinked and squeezed his eyelids, turning away from the bright light streaming through the window. He’d forgotten to shut the curtains last night.
Again.
Fuck.
He groaned and rolled over, tangling in the sheets. The noise was still there, a light hammering. Who could possibly be up this early? He cracked an eye and checked his phone. 12:41 AM.
“Shiiiit.”
SUMMARY: There’s just something about the way Dianna walks down that hallway in The Purple Piano Project, something about the wild hair, the tattoo, and piercings that Darren can’t get get out of his system.
Rated: M
Part I - x
Part II - x
Part III - x
Part IV - x
“Touch me.”
Darren turned to look at her, confused, yet curious at the same time. Dianna didn’t meet his gaze, however, and continued to innocently play with his fingers, stroking the roughly calloused pads and running her fingers across each knuckle. He really did have such lovely hands.
He gaped at her, at a complete and utter loss for words. Had he just heard her right? “Y-you want me to…did you mean…?”
Dianna looked up from her lap, lashed fluttering and nodding slowly. There was something different about her in the moment, he noticed. Her eyes held a mischievous, contemplative look, chewing her bottom lip nervously.
She carefully placed a hand on his shoulder and gracefully rose from the couch. Dianna’s arm hid behind her back playfully, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, as she slowly walked backwards across the living room, a Mona Lisa smile in place. She stopped right before the door to one of the rooms.
His bedroom.
“I…”
He didn’t get the chance to even think of finishing that sentence because she twisted the doorknob and slowly slipped inside, still watching him with that smoky look, almost daring him.
He could almost feel the cogs hard at work again as his brain finally kicked in and he scrambled onto his feet, almost tripping over the cashmere throw. Darren gracelessly stumbled through the doorway, fighting the nervous fluttering in his gut, and paused.
But it’s okay, it’s okay! I’ve actually started this Seblaine one that’s based off of me listening to I Want You Back 42 times straight so it’s all good!
Aaaand I have this idea that includes body-shots…not sure if it’s gonna be in that fic (^) or just some little ficlet or oneshot or something…
<3
SUMMARY: There’s just something about the way Dianna walks down that hallway in The Purple Piano Project, something about the wild hair, the tattoo, and piercings that Darren can’t get get out of his system.
Rated: M (for upcoming chapters)
Part I - x
Part II - x
Part III - x
*knock-knock-knock*
Dianna tugged nervously at the hem of her oversized sweater, bunching it up in her fists. She’d probably end up ruining it but she didn’t even care. She began to shift her weight from foot to foot when she heard a low, muffled voice come from behind the door.
“It’s open, come on in!”
Dianna hesitated briefly before twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. It was similar to what she had imagined. The apartment was larger then she’d originally thought, yet so simple; a coffee table, a few sofas, and a fairly large television mounted on the center of the wall. It was such a comfortable atmosphere that it made her smile. Perhaps it was the warm throw blankets, or the dim lit lamps in the corners of the room, but something about it felt very homey to Dianna.
“Dianna?”
“Y-yeah! I’m here!” she called, hastily taking off her boots.
“Great! Come on into the kitchen.” Dianna heard his familiar voice call and followed it to an arched doorway to her right and took in the scene before her.
She saw a spastic Darren wearing a dark blue apron and hastily stirring the contents of the saucepan on the stove. Across the kitchen was a lanky guy, probably somewhere close to her age, with straight, dark brown hair and an utterly overwhelmed look in his eyes. He was holding a pot full of white rice over the trash bin and staring at it miserably.
“A-are you sure it’s no good, Dar?” he asked hesitantly, his hands reluctantly hovering the pot over the garbage.
“Yeah, we can’t eat that, Joey, it’s-hey!” Darren’s eyes lit up as he saw Dianna in the doorway, grinning widely. He wiggled the wooden utensils in his hand, “I hope you like Mexican!”
Dianna blinked, “Excuse me?”
