This is the third part to "Jigsaw Puzzles and Breaking the Fourth Wall", where Kurt and Blaine realize they are characters in a piece of fanfiction. This follows, "Really, Blaine? Neon?" If you have ever read hybrid fanfiction, or not read it, passed it by, or hated it, you might appreciate this ;) This uses the prompts overture, pulse, quick, river, stitch, and torch.

The rhythmic pulsating explosions of the 1812 Overture filled the loft, till the floor vibrated and Blaine's ears pounded. Kurt punctuated his canvas with dramatic brush strokes in time with the music, splattering the drop cloth on the floor with paint every time the canons sounded.

Blaine sat on a stool, fidgeting uncomfortably in his ill-fitting toga, holding a bamboo bowl filled with an odd assortment of tropical fruit.

“Okay. You're right,” Blaine said, talking uneasily from the corner of his mouth. “This is getting a little disturbing.”

“Are you kidding?” Kurt laughed, taking a moment to conduct the loud music before attacking his canvas again. “This is her best idea yet!”

“That's because you're not the one wearing the toga,” Blaine groused. “And about that, why do you even have this anyway?”

Kurt blushed, choosing not to answer. As the music wound down, Kurt threw down his brush and palette triumphantly.

“There,” he said, panting as if he had just run a marathon. “Finished.” Kurt raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Do you want to see?”

Blaine hopped down off his stool, adjusting his toga over his shoulder, and lifting the hem to make walking possible. He toddled over to the painting and looked it over, his curious expression turning into a comical look of outrage that left Kurt in stitches.

“You've been painting a river the whole time?” Blaine cried, scratching at the fabric irritating his shoulder. His eyes darted over the painting left to right, up and down, and then over again. “I'm not even in this painting!”

“Yes you are,” Kurt pouted playfully. He pointed to a spot in the upper right hand corner. Blaine squinted, his face twisting.

“That…that's just a splotch of paint!”

“Why are you so upset?” Kurt bit his lip, stifling the grin that tried to force its way on to his face without his permission.

“Because I've been sitting on that hard ass stool for over an hour, holding this bowl of fruit, and wearing this toga that I think I'm allergic to. I need out of it, quick! Seriously, what is this thing made of? Cat hair?”

“No one told you not to wear anything underneath it,” Kurt countered. “Besides…” Kurt crossed his arms petulantly across his chest. “Blame you-know-who. I can't be held accountable for my actions.”

Blaine sighed, trying hard to get out of the toga, finding himself inexplicably stuck.

“Well, maybe I would be less pissed if I could get this God-forsaken thing off.” Blaine tugged. Kurt tugged. The toga would not budge.

Kurt looked around the loft for help. The Tiki torches propped in the corner from last week's impromptu luau gave Kurt an inspired idea.

“We'll light it on fire!” Kurt chirped, raising a finger.

Blaine's eyes went wide.

“What!? Why!? Why would you do that?”

“It'll be so Catching Fire,” Kurt railroaded past Blaine's cries of anguish.

“But…but…I'm not a bird under here!”

Kurt's face suddenly looked frantic as he clapped a hand over Blaine's mouth and hissed.

“Shhh! Don't say that!”

Kurt looked left and right, his eyes shifting around anxiously before he decided it was safe to continue.

“She could do that to us, you know.”

“Do what?” Blaine mumbled from behind Kurt's hand still clamped tight over his mouth.

“Turn us into animals. Or hybrids. You know, like animorphs? Half man, half animal?”

“How do you know that?” Blaine whispered.

“I looked it up.” Kurt swallowed. “I've seen it, Blaine. Fanfiction where the main characters are kittens, puppies…even squid.”

Blaine went pale.

“Do you think she would?” Blaine sounded horrified.

Both men waited in the quiet, anticipating some possible metamorphic transformation. After a few minutes of nothing, both men sighed in relief.

“I think we're in the clear,” Blaine said, daring to talk at regular, human levels.

Kurt put an arm around Blaine's shoulders.

“Come on,” he said soothingly. “Let's go find my sewing scissors and cut you out of that.”

Blaine growled playfully. Both men walked away, oblivious to Blaine shedding feathers or the presence of Kurt's new tail.