#I like everything we got with David and Kurt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crazedlunatic · 2 years ago

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Blaine’s Coming Out Story

“Are you not going to work today?” Kurt, who usually was gone before Blaine left, looked surprised.

“I’m… having an anxious day.” Blaine bit his lip. “I already took Zach and Nick to school, though. How did the event and cleanup go?”

“Why are you anxious? What’s wrong?”

“Uhm. I don’t know that I ever told you before and I probably should have and it’s not something that I really talk about because it… makes me really depressed and sometimes it spirals quickly and… I’ve really only talked to Derek—David’s dad— and my therapist. I had to see her every day for months, then every other day, then Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and that was after graduating to then next level of therapy because they were convinced I wasn’t suicidal anymore and that I was sufficiently at a D or D- mentally instead of wanting to sabotage or kill myself.”

“Blaine—” Kurt sputtered. “You never… you told me you had a therapist but you never said anything like that before.”

“I know. I know.” Blaine sat on his hands, clearly anxious. “I’m sorry but you never brought coming out up for me and even if you had, I probably would have lied because I always panicked when cornered about my falling grades and…”

“Blaine. You told me you almost killed yourself. Or wanted to but called and got help.” Kurt sat by him, eyes wide. “I knew it was bad.”

“It wasn’t bad… it was awful. The ages 11 to 17 probably would have killed me if Derek— David’s dad— hadn’t taken me in and he kept me with his family until I was set to go to UK because they’re just the best people. Bob and Sarah, Burt and Carole too.”

“No, I know what you mean. Back then.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you… are you going to tell Bob you aren’t going in?”

“I should but it’s not a good reason to call out because I’m supposed to be helping he and Jake with this big trial which is so over my head… which isn’t helping me right now either. I’m a mess. I just want to stay home and hide with the twins.”

Kurt looked at him. He’d seen Blaine anxious but not like this.

“I still wish I hadn’t come out to them. And that I had a support system but after I came out to my parents, suddenly everyone knew… and I was terrified. My best friends turned on my and I just got progressively more anxious and then depression set in. I had no one to talk to. Well. No. Uhm, I went to my grandparents on weekends.”

“How were they?” Kurt asked.

Blaine’s lip trembled and he said, “They were great. They both said they’d known and that they had a fund set up for me when they passed… and that they’d make sure I was taken care of… and I guess Jake took it over from there? Because his dad was my grandfather’s best friend or something… which is also really weird.”

Kurt nodded.

“A-and now I really need to go to work but I can’t make myself get up and get dressed. And how am I supposed to make an excuse? They don’t even know my birthday would coincide with it.”

“Blaine… are you sure you want to think about all of this on your birthday?”

“This was the day I had decided to do it in sophomore year.”

“Kill yourself?”

“Yeah. On my birthday. But I… I called Wes because I was too afraid to take the pills.”

“That’s why you hate doing stuff for your birthday.” Kurt frowned. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know… but you should know…”

“Does Bob know?”

“Just as much as you do. It’s not something I like to talk about all the time because it takes me to a dark place and I’m afraid to get stuck there.” His voice was soft.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kurt’s voice was gentle.

“Yes… but no.”

“Let’s talk about it then.” Kurt sat down on the couch, gesturing for Blaine to sit with him. “What do you want me to know?”

“When I turned 11, we had this nice birthday party. Everything had been great. Cake, presents, the soccer team all came… it had been one of the ‘best days ever.’” Blaine swallowed and picked at his nails as he spoke. “When the team left, I told my parents how much I enjoyed it, thanked them and everything… and told them I was gay. I had something I wanted to share with them. My mom seemed thrilled until my dad got really pissed off. He was saying all of these awful things. It got out to my soccer mates who had been my best friends but they wouldn’t talk to me anymore even though it was public school and I know there were at least two other gay kids on the team… shortly after most of them kept harassing me and the school wouldn’t do anything. They tried to sound meaningful or something about how it was good for me or something.”

“What else did your dad do?” Kurt asked. Blaine hadn’t gotten near this far any other time he’d talked about his past with his parents although Kurt knew it had been awful.

“Sometimes he wouldn’t let me eat. He would take things from me that he knew I really loved. My grandfather may have known something was going on but not the extent. I stayed over there a lot until he died and then my grandmother… I don’t know if she was trying to protect me from something else or what… but she had been a really good grandmother and I just wish I could talk to her and make sense of all of this but I never got to even ask because she died before I could know what really happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Blaine. How long before you went to Dalton?”

“After I was attacked and ended in the hospital.” His chest felt tight. “At Dalton I got so nervous in locker rooms even though nothing ever happened there. I can’t… I can’t go to work today, Kurt. But I don’t have a good enough excuse.”

“Blaine. You’re back up right now. You know he would be okay with it.”

“Yeah but the thing is I… I’m not even done explaining.” Blaine’s eyes teared up and he took several deep breaths. “Because it kept getting worse until my… 15th birthday where everything imploded. And then the grandpa was gone. And I was getting beat up in school for being gay and I just—”

“What?”

“I wanted to do it. I wanted to die. I wanted to kill myself. Sometimes I still have nightmares about my coming out and the bullying.” Blaine shuddered a bit as though he was cold. “I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much this year, Kurt. I don’t want to do anything to myself. I just… I don’t know how to not go to this place. I think maybe it’s because we have the boys and I can’t fathom making them feel this way.”

“Can I… Blaine, can I call Bob? I know he would want to make you feel better about this.”

“He’s going to be annoyed because he’s kept asking me what’s wrong for days and I—I don’t lie to him but I didn’t want to get to this place. And he’ll be worried.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t want him to see me like this.”

There was a knock on the door. Not a normal one. Several knocks.

Kurt got up to answer the door knowing exactly who it had to be.

“What’s happening? He’s not answering me, Sarah, he even ignored Charlie and Sam.” Bob followed Kurt into the main part of the house.

Blaine had his hands covering his face, not wanting Bob to know he’d been crying.

Bob sat on the couch next to him and put his hand on Blaine’s thigh, eyes locked with Kurt’s.

“Sorry.” Blaine choked. “I couldn’t… I can’t… I…”

“You should have called me, Blaine. I’m always here. I was worried.” Bob said, looking at Kurt who looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Kurt sat on the floor in front of Blaine, hand on Blaine’s knee as he cried even harder.

“You’re okay. You’re perfect how you are.” Bob was reassuring him. “You’re here despite everything you’ve been through. You and Kurt have perfect babies and you’re such a great dad. Don’t you think otherwise for a second, honey, because you are already so much better than I was with Charlie as a six month old.”

Blaine shook his head, face red from all of the crying.

“Yes. You are.” Bob protested. “I will remind you every day until I die if I have to.”

“I can’t say it all again.” Blaine whimpered. “I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” Kurt said.

“I don’t need to hear it until you need me too.” Bob made eye contact and then pulled Blaine into a super uncomfortable hug.

Blaine wiped off his face and let out a few shuddery breaths. He was silent for a few minutes before wiping his eyes and then leaning against Kurt.

#blaine anderson #bob bob bob #Kurt Hummel

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seph7 · 8 months ago

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20 Years of Breakdown

4th May 2017

This week, with no fanfare - not so much as a goose fart - the Kurt Russell starring, simple, tense and exciting 90s thriller, Breakdown turned 20.

The 90s were strewn with thrillers like the desert is apparently strewn with lank haired hillbillies looking to abscond with your wife, Breakdown, though, I think, stands out above most of them.

It is for this reason, and many others - including boredom, nerdyness and attention - that I decided to celebrate its 20th Anniversary on this very website.

Very quickly, for the uninitiated, Breakdown is a fast moving thriller about a hard-up yuppy couple, traveling cross-country to their new home when some malevolent truckers kidnap the wife and try to force the husband to pay a ransom he can't afford. With quick thinking, timing and blind luck, the husband must turn the tables on the kidnappers and save his wife.

By the time 1997 rolled around we were all aware that Kurt Russell was very much 'the man'. There was seemingly nothing he couldn't do: Comedy, sports, action, sci-fi and rock a beautiful feathered mullet without blushing or losing credibility. Even Captain Ron could not stop the Russell juggernaut.

The 90s Russell gave us Tombstone, Stargate, Executive Decision, the return of Snake Plissken in Escape From L.A. (I like it - see here) and Breakdown. While most of those films, if not all of them, will get or have got "special editions" and/or "anniversary editions" where is the love for Breakdown?

Kurt had, twice before in the 90s, dabbled with the seemingly-average-yuppy-with-a-mullet turns desperate action man role - in Unlawful Entry and Executive Decision - in Breakdown he's at it again but I think in an even more believable, desperate and insecure way. Audiences knew by then that, when the chips were down, Russell would do his best to kick some serious ass but I wonder were they prepared for him to be quite so out of his depth for quite so long as he is in this movie.

I, personally, love it and feel like he earns his heroic moments all the more by giving us a protagonist we can see ourselves in and, ultimately, root for.

As the kidnapping antagonists of the film, there is no greater threat than the combined power of M.C. Gainey's moustache and the evil, powerful eyes of everyone's favourite bastard villain, J.T. Walsh. The two of them have more on-screen menace than they do initials.

Russell had bested a madly hammy Liotta in Unlawful Entry and easily defeated the terrorists of TV's Hercule Poirot himself, David Suchet in Executive Decision but even we Russell friendly audience members fear he may have met his match with the denim clad, trucker cap sporting J.T. Walsh.

Everything about the 90s go-to arse-hole, Walsh, oozes an attitude of "I could not give two healthy fucks about you". He is such an unbridled delight to watch being mean and shouty with everyone. He had a career that spanned over 20 years and yet, despite being burned forever into our brain as a malevolent son-of-a-bitch, his reign of playing villains really only ran from 1987's Good Morning Vietnam to his tragic death in 1999 ((1998)). Just 12 years but he made every single squinty eye, sweaty brow, snarled insult and pursed lip count.

The movie is splendidly directed with a keen eye on the rugged Americana of it all but also a sturdy, uncomplicated, understanding of how to tell a story, build tension and shoot action without waving and shaking the camera around like a spasmodic gibbon. It's an age old gripe from me, I know, but the biggest failing of straight-to-video thrillers these days - that hope to ape the strong, simplicity of a classic like Breakdown - is they can't film a simple conversation without epilepticly wobbling the camera around like the operator is bursting for a pee. It may sound like old man "get off my lawn" moaning but go back to a film like Breakdown, made by a director you probably wouldn't know if you tripped over him in the street, and marvel at the excellent storytelling ability of such a film.

Speaking of Jonathan Mostow, the director of Breakdown, he sadly would never follow up this success with anything that comes close. The re-writing of history, submarine, war movie U-571, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines and the Bruce Willis sci-fi dud Surrogates are the sort of stunningly average, flawed and run-of-the-mill Hollywood dreck that most wouldn't want on their resume. However, you only have to make one classic to be celebrated forever and, for me, Breakdown is it. So Mostow gets a pass from me, even a one-hit-wonder is worth humming from time to time.

Breakdown feels like a 70s movie and, more than that, it feels like a 70s Ozploitation movie in a weird way - maybe it's the dessert road setting, I don't know. It's a lean, economical, thrilling, tense and engaging film with a dynamite cast and some strong, but not showy, direction. If you haven't seen it, I can't urge you enough to track it down and give it a watch.

#j.t. walsh #jt walsh #underrated actors #breakdown

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happylandfill23 · 1 year ago

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23, 20,1 and 8 for the music asks!!!

thank you for the ask julian!! /gen

23. what's a song that makes you feel like a hot badass?

"cat people (putting out fire)" by david bowie!!

20. SHOW ME A PICTURE OF ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE ARTISTS. RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO SEE THEM.

instead of being painfully predictable and putting a photo of damon albarn, here's kurt cobain with a cat :]

1. what is your favorite song. right now. tell me.

oh man. it's hard to pick but one i've been really enjoying lately is "all i think about now" by the pixies

8. tell me about your favorite band. go on infodump for me.

oh boy get ready for me to infodump about gorillaz

i just love everything about them tbh, i loveee the music and the art and everything. i think my favourite album is probably demon days, not just by them but in general and when i found a copy of it on vinyl i literally cried in the middle of the store lmao you would think i'd actually seen damon and jamie there in the flesh i could not calm down. but it's in my possession now and i love it. only problem is it doesn't have the fade between dirty harry and feel good inc and it skips a bit during dare but it's perfect otherwise and every time i hear the fade between don't get lost in heaven and demon days i cry even though i've heard that fade several times before on my cd of the album it just. hits different on vinyl idk. i think phase two also has my favourite art style of all the phases?? idk though i loveeee the plastic beach artstyle and they all look so cool in their outfits (i even have that plastic beach era poster that i'm pretty sure everyone has lmaoo) and i love cyborg noodle!! i wish what happened to her was more clear and not changed like a million times, i also would've thought it would be cool to see her and noodle become friends. THEY COULD'VE BEENN SISYERS :( but no :(( also plastic beach always makes me sad i really really wish damon and jamie had gotten to do everything they'd wanted to with that album and it makes me so sad thinking about all the lost music and stuff. especially crashing down cuz that snippet from the russel ident was so beautiful :( also why did they delete all the plastic beach teasers from their official youtube channel??? like all the close-ups of the gorgeous model they built pretty much just for the album cover with the little snippets of music we never got (i'm quite fond of the one known as mr. light, which based on what we hear in the snippet i think it was reworked into damon albarn's daft wader, which is a gorgeous song from a gorgeous album) and the little character idents too. my favourite one is probably the cyborg noodle one, i love the creepy music and how we get to see what all the wires and stuff look like, it's just super cool. the russel one makes me really sad though :( man russel has been through so much. he deserves better man

ok this turned out even longer then i thought it would lmao i'm adding a cut before this rambling session 😭😭

thank u again for the asks btw!! /gen

#asks #ask game #runway-houses-city-clouds

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leweekendrock · 2 years ago

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A Le Weekend Retrospective - Part 1

Like the night sky, the band Le Weekend has been around more than 15 years. While the night sky lazed around and contributed nothing to anyone, the band used the time to write songs, play shows, and put out recordings at what couldn't be called a breakneck pace. Responding to a fantasy where there was popular demand to hear our story, please enjoy–or failing that, read–a retrospective in some number of parts.

So this is the first part. It covers 2006 to 2008, in which we formed the band, released our first EP, and sadly parted ways with two founding members.

SOUNDTRACK: https://leweekend.bandcamp.com/album/suite

DISCLAIMERS:

The writing is mostly Matt. Don’t blame the whole band for what follows.

This isn’t supposed to be (slash hopefully isn’t) a nostalgia trip. Those are for things that are over. We’re just demonstrating some ongoing history behind this thing we do and keep doing for some reason.

I’ve tried to avoid the social media pose of pretending to be an Important Band. It’s hard to avoid entirely when writing anything, as suggesting something is worth your time is already bold. But we’re merely a Good Local Band in the sense of all three words, and mean well.

Finally, if you’re looking for Salacious Details(!!), you’ve come to the wrong band. Here are the three most shocking excerpts from the whole thing:

The booking agent hoped I wasn’t miffed. Miffed?! I was downright perturbed!

“Looks like you’re going to the Grammys!” our manager exclaimed, turning the laptop screen our way. “This Photoshop stuff is really something.”

And THAT, my dude, PROVES Kurt Cobain and Anthony Kiedis were talking about the same bridge!

And those are all from my correspondence course How To Write Shocking Excerpts.

The year was 2006. I was out of my 20’s, and my last band (Hotel Motel, now ending) had gotten together through alt.music.chapel-hill. It was time to put the next band together through Gmail, which was the style at the time. The phrase ��jam sandwich” appeared in an acceptance email that also warned me “That was your out.”

We got Robert Biggers on drums, because I played with him in Audubon Park, knew him to be gifted on various instruments, and we were friends going all the way back to the 20th Century.

Through my good friend David Nahm, we got connected with Ben Ridings on lead guitar, and Ben introduced us to Missy Thangs on keyboards and vocals. Both hailed from the excellent early aughts Asheville band Piedmont Charisma.

At this point we needed bass which meant Bob Wall. I’d only recently learned he played bass (knowing him for guitar and drums) when during downtime at a Hotel Motel practice he whipped out Steely Dan’s “The Boston Rag." They say you learn everything you need to know about a bassist when they play ‘The Boston Rag’ on the couch, and they're right!

So now we were formed. And such well dressed people.

(Photo by Ben Spiker. l-r, front row: Missy Thangs, Robert Biggers, Ben Ridings; back row: Bob Wall, Matt Kalb)

We started with a few songs I’d already written in the sense that I write songs, which means a clear idea of structure, chord progression, and my guitar part–at the level of a good working draft–combined with vague-to-no ideas for the rest of the band’s parts. As in, I’m open to hearing what they'll bring, and zeroing in on it without a predefined landing place. That’s both HOW I WANT TO DO IT, but also something I worry about being NOT THE REAL WAY TO DO IT.

Because, yep, when creating music, one of the things I love doing most, imposter syndrome is in full effect much of / most of the time! I also didn’t know Missy or Ben very well, and in my usual (overly literal) way of interpreting their feedback about looking for more direction, I swung over to giving way too much direction, arbitrarily filling in the blanks I’d have rather left for the band, because I thought that was what was being asked. We figured it all out, of course.

In bands with this individual freedom and responsibility, sometimes everyone effectively (if unconsciously) wants everyone else to be all done with their experimentation, presenting an unwavering idea while their own experimentation continues. Sartre talks about this and didn’t even have a band, I’m pretty sure. Plus the songs were, as rock/pop goes, fairly complicated, lending themselves to situations where one person could be learning how it goes while another is past that and working in tweaks and changes, which throw off the first person, rinse/repeat. But we figured out how to get through that too, of course. To me, every new song feels like the one that will never get learned, and every one’s gotten learned so far.

Within a few months we had several songs together and played our first show, a WXDU thing at the Duke Coffeehouse, thanks to the unseen or possibly seen (I couldn’t find my emails for this) hand of Ross Grady. That made things feel more real, as it usually does for bands starting out. We did a cover of “Hold The Line,” which we learned that day and never returned to. It was more of a fun-for-the-first-show kind of thing.

About a year after that we started working on our debut recording, Suite, with our friend Nick Petersen at Go! Studios. This was the first of many great recording experiences the band would have with Nick over the years.

My favorite memory from these sessions is from "Blinded Me With Silence", which is also my favorite song from the EP. I wanted two layers of disorganized improvisation from several guest musicians, mostly playing marching band type instruments. I explained what we were doing, threw my arms wide shouting “Go!”, pulled them back in shouting “Stop!”, and we repeated once more. At which point Robert helpfully weighed in over the PA, “Your music is dumb!”

Credits for 13 SECONDS OF NOISE x2

Crowmeat Bob Pence (trombone)

Dave Cantwell (parade bass drum)

Kerry Cantwell (parade snare drum)

Chuck Johnson (Ben's guitar)

Jeff Herrick (trumpet)

Rob Koegler (toy percussion)

The centerpiece of the album, kind of the theme song of the band at this point, was "Le Weekend Suite". It came from a self-assigned writing exercise, after Robert mentioned his college songs tended to move from part to new part to new part, etc., going off in many interesting directions and often back to part 1 for an end (“snake style”), but he’d wanted to write something that folds back in on itself.

I considerately stole the idea and made it work in the most natural way possible: forcing in advance that it just had to work because that’s how the song goes. The song, progressing through parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 (‘the great divide”), then rewinding through new versions of 4, 3, 2, and 1, was slowly and (for my patient band mates) excruciatingly born. As in, this one took quite a while to write, arrange, and learn. But I definitely think it’s a highlight of the EP.

By the way, alternate iterations of a part would itself become a recurring theme, explored at full song level on our 2nd album, aka the one that got ALL THE ATTENTION, and at the part (shared across multiple songs) level on our 6th album, aka the one that got ALL THE PANDEMIC. It had a small role in our 4th and 5th ones as well. What can I say? I’ve had one idea and it wasn't fully mine to begin with.

I can’t remember which song led to Bob internally debating which single held note he used to play and/or should play, but I think it might have been “Le Weekend Suite” as well. Recapped in the famous line “Bob’s changed his mind about his notes” in our next album.

The CD design came from our friend Lincoln Hancock using photos from Ben Spiker, the start of another very fruitful tradition for the band. I mean, look at this thing.

(Layout by Lincoln Hancock, photo by Ben Spiker)

And we got a very nice review from Grayson Currin at the Indy.

Unfortunately, at this time Ben and Missy decided it would be best to step away from the band after our release show at the Nightlight. This was on very friendly terms, and they encouraged the three of us to continue. We opened with the trio playing “Lower yr action” (soon to be part of our first LP) as a nod to what was coming next, then played our last show as a quintet. To thunderous applause, at least in my own head.

We’re very grateful to Missy and Ben for their contributions to the early life of the band, and for encouraging us to keep going. While they’ve each got great performances all over Suite, one of my favorites is the middle section of "Rock staple, scissors". Just listen for the ON FIRE keyboard lick and you’re there!

During the time frame of this installment, we played these shows.

11/11/06 - Duke Coffeehouse - DEBUT OF LW - WXDU FALL BENEFIT w/ Grappling Hook, Noncanon, Natasha, Scene of the Crime Rovers

03/01/07 - The Reservoir - w/Darker Brighter and Goner

05/24/07 - The Cave - w/Audubon Park

07/30/07 - Bull City HQ - w/Mahasamatman and Minchia

08/23/07 - Nightlight - w/Grappling Hook

09/25/07 - Duke Coffeehouse - w/Dirty Projectors and Ecstatic Sunshine

10/16/08 - Bull City HQ - w/Cantwell Gomez & Jordan and Impossible Arms

11/06/08 - Duke Coffeehouse - TROIKA 2008 w/Red Collar, Sorry About Dresden, Pink Flag, and Sequoya

12/04/08 - Nightlight - CD RELEASE FOR SUITE w/Actual Persons Living or Dead, Crash, and dj NASTY BOOTS

And that’s all you get! For now.

#le weekend #leweekend #retrospectives of things you never heard of

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davidaltofsky · 2 years ago

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porcelainxxx1x1:

Kurt took a quick look around on the beach to see if he could spot someone who looked like they were searching for the puppy, but it appeared there was no one. “It’s so weird such a small puppy is just out on his own” he said, then looked at Dave and giggled. “I see my love for Broadway has finally rubbed on you, baby” he said when he suggested the name for the puppy, to which the little one gave a happy bark. To watch the way Dave and the puppy seemed to be bonding was adorable for Kurt, and honestly, he was just happy that his fiancèe was also happy. He scrunched his nose when Boq gave him a puppy kiss, but it was cute anyway. “Okay okay, you got me. We can have him. But-” He lifted one finger. “We’ll go straight from here to the vet clinic, so he can be checked out and also to get whatever shots he may need, deal?”

David beamed happily when Kurt approved of the little adorable puppy, trying his best not to jump with genuine joy at the idea. He nodded eagerly at the one condition “I promise, straight to the vet and checking him out for everything... including a microchip in case he’s someone elses, even though his approval of us should technically make him fully ours already” he reasoned with a tiny little smile, moving to hold the puppy too his chest and feeling the little bundle of happy fluff snuggling against him. “At least he’s a tiny little guy, can easily fit him in the apartment without any real hassle... or in a backpack for any New York Subway rides, which I totally plan on doing” he exclaimed, moving over a little and putting his arm around Kurt to pull him in for a tiny kiss “Thankyou babe, you really are the best man anyone could hope for” he whispered, just enjoying the sweet moment and tenderly nuzzling against his partner sweetly “You wanna hold him while I pack everything up? Lots to get back to the car, I can get it all for us” he moved over a little and looked down, trying not to make too happy a sound when he saw the adorable little dog just slowly move it’s head over to rest on Kurt’s chest and snuggle into him.

#Kurt x David #david and kurt: thread 001

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hummelberries · 2 years ago

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glee kids as the car i think they have

rachel: little two-door chevy sedan from the 90s, because her dads are loaded but they still thought her first car should be a cheap used car on principle. planned on getting her a nicer car once the chevy crapped out but it's still hanging on and she's emotionally attached to it at this point. her windshield shade is gold star print, she has three sets of seat covers, and the carpet is vacuumed. it has a cd player and a tape deck. her glove compartment full of music is alphabetized. "bernie" - short for bernadette.

finn: one of those SUVs that you have to climb into, with the step-up ledge on the side. it's huge, and it seems even bigger on the inside, but he loves it, because everything on a regular chassis had the steering wheel in his lap. it's pretty recent and he feels guilty that his parents spent so much money on him so he's a really careful driver, but the car is an absolute mess of laundry and trash until once every couple months rachel or kurt starts bitching at him about how disgusting it is. he didn't name it, but he calls it "buddy."

kurt: his baby, the navigator, of course, but hear me out - he has access to an auto shop, and he loves working with his hands. what if he had a project car? a rundown 60s lincoln continental that he bought from the scrapyard, because how dare they, sure it's falling apart and has moth-eaten seats but it's gorgeous, it just needs some love. he's made a moodboard for it complete with paint samples and fabric swatches for the carpet and the upholstery, and burt was there to hug him the first time he got it to run. "sweetheart" -- blaine's a little jealous.

blaine: bmw two-seater convertible. bright red with black-trimmed white leather interior. daddy's money, yeah, but blaine doesn't resent it -- he picked it all out himself. if his dad thought he could buy blaine's love, blaine could at least have some fun with it. it makes him feel like a badass, which was something he really needed after freshman year. dad called it a ladykiller car, but blaine's boyfriend seems to like it pretty well when they're parking. "desdemona."

quinn: a pastel green volkswagen beetle, the same car she's wanted ever since she was a little girl. a present from her parents. she keeps clothes folded in the back seat out of habit; there's a picture of puck holding beth taped to the dashboard, another one of sam's little brother and sister, and one of herself, santana, and brittany. there's a picture of the whole glee club clipped under the visor, and a bible and a half-empty pack of newports in the glove box. a cross necklace dangles from the rearview mirror. she never named it.

puck: bigass ford pickup truck that always smells like marijuana. there's pool chemicals in a box on the floor in the back and a skimmer in the bed, and there's a star of david sticker on the tailgate. the only other one has the logo for ac/dc. he's pretty bad about the laundry, too, and there's a pile of cds in the passenger seat that's half fallen off into the floor next to a can of dip that he always has to fumble for. there's a big dent in the left rear door from when he and finn were taking turns doing donuts in the school parking lot when they were fourteen and one of them ran into a streetlamp. puck swears it was finn. he has menthols in his glove box, too, even though he doesn't smoke cigarettes. the ashtray is only roaches and lipstick-stained filters. quinn doesn't mention it. "the puck-mobile."

santana: a wood-paneled station wagon that was a hand-me-down from one of her tias. it's old enough that the back seat seatbelts don't have cross-straps. the breaks are iffy and something's always rattling and she claims to hate it, but selectively does not hear when her mom tells her "we can get you a better car than that deathtrap, mija." there's a hula girl on the dash and the radio's preset to the channel brittany likes, lipsticks rolling around on the bench, and a charm of saint christopher from her abuelita stuck to the inside of one of the visors. there's pom-poms and one of brittany's stuffed animals in the backseat. "bitch" or "puta."

brittany: big old minivan. and she wanted a minivan, she picked it out herself. the dashboard, bumper, and back windshield are all covered in stickers of kittens and unicorns and rainbows; there's a cat bed on the floor of the passenger seat so she and lord tubbington can hang out. she has a pair of fuzzy dice over the mirror, along with a lei, a bi pride flag, and the first friendship bracelet she got back from santana. kurt helped her bedazzle the license plate frame and cried a little when she explained that the big heart magnet full of letters is the initials of everyone in glee club. "sparkles."

sam: his first car that his parents bought him back in kentucky was a truck, but that got repo'd along with everything else. he bought himself a discrete, practical four-door sedan, in black. its interior is perpetually coated in some amount of glitter, no matter how much he vacuums; he has two carseats in it, and half of the CDs he has are kidz bop and disney soundtracks. finn and puck ceremoniously hung a red solo cup from his rearview labeled "#6", and he keeps it there, taping the family photo carole took of him, finn, kurt, and burt to the other side. brittany calls it "other sparkles"; sam doesn't call it anything.

#yes i realize this is just my faves. and what about it #glee #glee headcanons #klaine #brittana #mypost*

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staczak91 · 4 years ago

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A list of some of my favorite musicians and why

I’m bored right now, so listing, in no particular order, some of my favorite musicians over the years and have stuck with me for my life so far.

Music has always been an integral part of my life and I love it so so much. Just hearing the perfect song or finding that album that speaks to you is amazing.

So, yeah, here are some musicians that I love love LOVE! No surprises in here for people that know me.

The Beatles

I grew up with this band! My mom adored them and now I adore them. I’m more partial to early Beatles, but they made great music all across their years as a band. Favorite Beatle? I don’t think I can choose. They’re all perfect in their own way. The first rock band. The first boy band. The first musical obsession of my life. Thank you, Beatles, for everything you have given me.

Kurt Cobain (Nirvana)

I fell in love with Kurt and Nirvana in college after my mom’s death and never fell out of love with him or the band. They’re my go to band when I’m feeling sad or angry emotions and need to just let it out. I found Kurt’s story amazing and believe he is a songwriting genius. Unplugged will always remain my favorite Nirvana album and live performance.

Jack White

Jack White is one strange man! But I believe that is why I really love him and his music. He makes great straight-up rock music and I love him in whatever form he chooses to express himself: White Stripes, solo, Raconteurs, all of it is fantastic. I fell in love with his music in college after my sister introduced me to his music and, again, never fell out of love. His guitar-playing skills are legendary and he has a great voice to boot!

Amy Winehouse

Amy Winehouse was another college mainstay that I’m still in love with all these years later. I listened to both her albums numerous times and watched the film Amy, which was so sad and enlightening. I wish we all could have seen her growth as an artist and see her become even more of a legendary performer. Her jazz-infused pop was a breath of fresh air and she’ll always remain a favorite of mine.

Taylor Swift

I had to include Taylor on this list! Been a fan of hers since Fearless but didn’t become a bigger fan until 1989, when I was hooked and never looked back. She doesn’t have a bad album to her name, and seeing reputation live was simply the icing on the cake. Her music and lyricism is perfect and on point and I’m so happy I became a fan of this legendary artist. She’s one of my all-time favorites and I will always love her and her music. Cannot wait to see what she does next.

Jeff Buckley

I found Jeff Buckley’s music a year after I graduated from college totally by accident and so happy I stumbled on his work. Grace is one of the most perfect albums I’ve ever heard and I wish we could have seen his growth as an artist. I’m sad we will never see more from this songwriting genius who was so empathetic and so real. One of my all-time favorites who has stuck with me for life. I simply adore Jeff Buckley.

David Bowie

My mom also adored Bowie and passed that adoration down to me. I remember his death hit real bad when it happened and the whole world was in mourning. And for good reason too. He was just a musician who was so full of life and was so so talented. He deserved everything he got in life. I’m still rocking out to his songs now and will never grow tired of this man’s legacy. Thanks, Bowie, for the good times.

Elvis Presley

I fell in love with Elvis in eighth grade and never looked back! Once I found out I shared a birthday with him, that’s it: I was hooked. And I’m still in love with his persona and music now. The ultimate rock star. He just shed cool. And was a marvel of an entertainer, from musician to rock star to movie star, he did it all. And he was able to move deftly between so many genres too. Really, I love Elvis, and I’m not ashamed.

Harry Styles

Harry is a new love of mine, but I had to include him. I must admit I’ve never been a One Direction fan and even after discovering Harry and listening to them, I don’t think I’ll ever be one. (Sorry, guys.) But Harry’s solo music is a breath of fresh air in this kind of boring music industry now. He’s controversial and fun and his music is phenomenal. Fine Line is one of the best albums I’ve heard in years, and I’ll be singing “Lights Up” and “Adore You” until the day I die. Although Harry is a new love of mine, I believe I’m gonna love him and his music for years to come. Cannot wait to see him live and see what new great music he has in store for us. Really, I’m unabashedly in love with the guy and I have no regrets.

Honorable Mentions:

For those who I outgrew or haven’t made my all time favorites list.

Billie Joe Armstrong (Green Day)

Including him as an honorable mention. I used to be in love with Billie years ago as a kid and a young adult, but I kind of outgrew his music. Sorry not sorry, I have so many great memories with him and the band, but I just can’t really listen to them anymore. I guess I grew out of them. Still, though, it was fun while it lasted. I just feel like Green Day aren’t really trying anymore as a band and because of that I’ve lost interest in them. Again, sorry not sorry.

Beyoncé

Okay let me get one thing straight: I love Beyoncé, her image and her music. But she isn’t in my all time favorites, even with these loves. I think she’s great and extremely talented but I have to be in the right mood to listen to her. Which is why I’m adding her to the honorable mentions. Don’t get me wrong. I love so many of her songs and albums. But...well, I just really have to be in the mood for her music. Still, though, she reigns.

Led Zeppelin

Same thing with Zep. My dad adores this band and it’s one of his favorites. But I can’t force it. I have to be in the mood for them. They’re fantastic, I won’t argue against that. But they’re also heavier than what I usually listen to. Still, when I want to bond with my dad, we usually listen to Zep together.

Bob Dylan

Dylan is a goddamn poet and I love him! But again I just have to be in the mood for him, which doesn’t happen very often right now. Still, though, I won’t argue against his greatness. He truly makes masterpieces. At least his first few albums and in his younger days.

Adele

Adele has a powerhouse voice and is technically a favorite of mine. But I find sometimes her music is missing something vital, which is why I put her in the honorable mentions category. Again, I realize how talented she is and am not saying otherwise. But, yeah, I’m usually in the mood for her but at the same time, find some of her music lacking. I’m sorry, Adele. I still love your brand.

Well, there you have it. I’ve listened to loads of music growing up and I’ll continue to do so and find new music to love. But these are some of my all time favorite musicians and some honorable mentions. Hope you enjoyed the lsit! I know I enjoyed writing it! <3

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holmesandtheroman · 3 years ago

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The Season of the Witch — Kurt x Baba Yaga (Rated E - Explicit)

One Shot (?)

Summary: After the events of Infinity War, Kurt's childhood nightmares start up again. One night, he receives a visit from the very thing he fears, but he finds that perhaps she is everything he never knew he needed.

A/N: As you all know, I am a HUGE supporter of Baba Yaga from the Marvel Comics making her MCU debut and her becoming Kurt's powerful hot Russian witch gf (David Dastmalchian supports it too but I digress). In any case, I HAD TO WRITE THIS BECAUSE HE DESERVES TO FUCK THIS RUSSIAN GODDESS. Please read the warnings because Kurt is definitely a slut for her in this. (Also, please forgive any mistakes I made when writing the Russian language. I tried my best). This is really bad and I'm sorry.

WARNINGS, PLEASE READ: Magical sex, worship/goddess kink, Dom!Baba Yaga, Sub!Kurt, slight mommy kink, rough sex, slight choking, assisted masturbation, voyeurism (blink and you miss it), praise kink, prolonged orgasm

Kurt awoke in a cold sweat, his hands clutching his pillow to his chest. The echoes of a nightmare dissipated before he could even grasp at the memory of what he had dreamed. He sighed and pressed his hands to his face as his thudding heart eased. Kurt reached over to his phone on his bedstand. He squinted at the brightness when he picked up the phone and read the time: 3:00 am exactly.

Koldovskoy chas, he remembered his grandmother warning him as a small child. The witching hour.

Kurt knew he would not be falling asleep again anytime soon, so he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He stood and stretched, his back popping comfortably. He then padded to his kitchen area and opened his fridge. He reached for his prize: vodka. Forgoing a shot glass, he brought the entire bottle to his kitchen table and sat heavily in the lone chair. Kurt unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to his lips. The cold, bitter alcohol tumbled past his lips and burned his throat going down. As the liquid warmed his belly, he felt himself relax slightly. He had not had a good night’s sleep since the Blip.

When the Blip happened, Kurt, Luis, and Dave were at X-Con’s office. Scott was with Hope and her parents as they assisted the ghost girl by going to the quantum realm once again. If he was being completely honest, Kurt did not fully understand the ins and outs of quantum stuff, but he was happy to support Scott from afar.

In any case, on the day of the Blip, the other three members of X-Con were working, but the news was on in the background. The anchor was reporting on extraterrestrial anomalies that had occurred in New York City and Edinburgh only the day before. Now, there had been major activity that appeared to be targeting Wakanda. Kurt’s stomach had been in knots, but he was not fully concerned yet: with such widespread anomalies, the Avengers would certainly be on the case.

Kurt looked up from his computer to see Luis sat back in his seat, watching the television with rapt attention. “Man, this shit is fucked up. I mean, we got aliens here again; like what are the odds after New York a couple years ago?” he said to the room.

Dave sighed and stood as he went to the fridge. “As long as they don’t bring that shit over here, I’m good.”

Kurt glanced over at the television, and nothing could have prepared for what he saw next: the anchorman paused, placed his hand on his earpiece, and exclaimed, “What?” before his visible hand began to disintegrate into ash.

“What the fuck?” Kurt murmured.

“Yo, what the fuck! Dave look at this shit!” Luis exclaimed as he stood. The anchorman had now disintegrated into ash. The camera cut to two other anchors, whose mouths were agape.

“Oh, shit,” said one of the other anchors, who was beginning to turn to ash. The woman next to him screamed and jumped away.

“Uh, guys?” Dave said.

Both Luis and Kurt looked at Dave, who was staring at his hand, or rather, the ash that was his hand.

“What the fuck! Fuck, fuck!” Dave screamed as he fell back, more of his body dissipating into ash.

Kurt and Luis rushed over to Dave, but by the time they got to him, Dave had completely disintegrated and was nothing more than a pile of ash on the ground.

Outside, the sound of several cars crashing came, along with screams of terror. Kurt ran to the window, and could not believe he was witnessing pedestrians share the same fate as Dave and the anchormen. Others who were left, were scrambling around in the street. Kurt happened to look up, and saw a plane in the distance careening toward the ground.

“Oy yebat’,” Kurt muttered as he witnessed the chaos outside. Oh, fuck.

“Yo, man, I can’t get Scott on the phone,” Luis said. He took his phone away from his ear and dialled another number.

Kurt stepped away from the window, silent in shock as he sat back at his desk. He ran his hand through his hair.

“I can’t get Hope either…” Luis’ voice drowned out as panic truly set in for Kurt. What the fuck had happened, and what the fuck was going on?

That had been year ago, but Kurt still found it difficult to sleep. Other than Dave and Scott, he had not lost anyone personally. However, nightmares plagued him; not of the Blip, but his mind had regressed to the nightmares he had when he was still a child back in Russia.

When he could remember his dreams, they were always the same: Kurt was alone in his family’s apartment and the doors and window were locked. It was night, and certain lights would not come on. In a pitch black corner, he could see two glowing red eyes that stared into his little soul. Kurt was frozen in his spot and unable to run away as a decaying woman’s hand reached out from the shadows to grasp at little Kurt’s pajamas. And just as the hand would clamp down on his shoulder, he would hear a raspy voice all around him, “U tebya budet takoy khoroshiy vkus….” You will taste so good.

As Kurt placed the vodka bottle down, he realized he had drank almost all of the vodka. At this point, he did not care. He imagined that the dream he had just awakened from was another variation of his childhood nightmare of the witch his grandmother had warned him about: Baba Yaga.

It was foolish, he knew, to still believe that she was real. It was entirely illogical, but the fear of the enigmatic crone still nagged him at the back of his mind. The ghost girl had scared the shit out of him, but she had ultimately made clear that her affliction was caused by a quantum accident. Still, the fear of the Russian witch had not gone away, especially since the Blip.

Every so often, while doing mundane tasks, the hairs on the back of his neck would stand up as he felt as if someone were watching him. No one ever was, and when he confided to Luis about it, he was ultimately talked out of his paranoia.

As he rolled the vodka bottle around in his hand, the sensation of being watched returned. At this point, Kurt had become used to it and did not even bother to look up again. He sighed and stood, the nearly empty bottle in his hand, and went back to his bed. The watching sensation followed close behind, and, even though he knew no one was there, he was secretly glad he did not sleep nude.

Kurt sat on his bed, but he froze when he suddenly heard slight movement in the darkened corner of his bedroom. His eyes widened and he swallowed, silently praying that it had just been his imagination.

Another noise. And then he felt a presence on the other side of his bed.

“O Bozhe moy,” he whispered. Oh, dear God. He refused to turn around to the sound, his mind rushing with the warnings of his grandmother.

“Ona yest tvoy strakh,” his grandmother warned. She eats your fear. “Tak chto postaraytes’ podavit’ svoy strakh.” So try to suppress your fear.

Kurt swallowed again and began to whisper the song he was taught to keep the witch at bay. “Baba Yaga come at night… Little children sleepy tight…” He shut his eyes tight and laid down. “Baba Yaga give you bite… Lay in bed, don’t be upright…”

“I see you know my lullaby,” said a woman’s voice from the darkness.

Kurt let out a frightened sob as his heart pounded. His ears roared with the rush of blood, and he shook violently. He willed himself to keep his eyes closed and whimpered the rest of the lullaby.

“They teach it to children to keep me at bay, but if you listen to the words, it’s only encouraging… more fear.” Her hauntingly soothing tone sounded as if she were circling the bed to stand over Kurt.

He pressed his hands into his face as the lullaby was now barely coherent in his abject terror. He then felt two soft hands gently grasp his wrists and guide them away.

“Shh, kotyonok,” she breathed in Kurt’s ear. “Everything is all right.”

Kurt was still hyperventilating as his hands trembled in the woman’s grip. She released one of his wrists and took his other up in both of her surprisingly warm hands. She caressed his palm, her touch sending calming shockwaves through Kurt’s body.

“Please, please, don’t hurt me,” Kurt whimpered.

The woman chuckled deeply. “Why would I hurt the one who has sustained me all these years?” Kurt sensed her lean over. Her lips brushed his ear when she whispered, “Your fear has been delicious.”

Kurt moaned as he tried to crumpled away from the woman. He rolled over, his eyes still squeezed shut. “Don’t eat me, please!”

“So you know who I am,” the woman stood straight. Kurt nodded swiftly. “Look at me, kotya.”

“Please,” Kurt begged.

“Your fear will go away. Look at me and say my name.”

For a long while, Kurt stayed silent, hoping the woman would leave and not hurt him. He quieted his breathing as he tried to listen for her departure.

“Kurt,” she said with such gentleness, it was nearly enough to calm him.

He shifted slightly, considering her request. What would she look like? Would he be ready to face the witch that had haunted his sleeping mind? He finally opened his eyes; life had been upended in the Blip. What did he have left in this world to live for?

Kurt rolled over, his eyes trained down as he was not ready just yet to face the witch.

“Look at me, Kurt,” she cooed.

Kurt’s gaze lifted slowly, the moonlight from the window on the opposite wall illuminating the witch’s countenance. She wore a short, formfitting, forest green sarafan, with shimmering golden embroidery that shone like stars. The white long-sleeve shirt beneath the sarafan nearly blended in with the pale skin of her hands.

Her hands. Kurt was shocked that they did not match the grotesque, decaying claw that extended from the darkness in his nightmares. They looked as soft as they had felt: they were dainty and limber, similar to a pianist’s hands. He had felt the gentle strength of her fingers when she had held his hand, and there was a constant and invisible magical energy that emanated from her hands.

Kurt raised his gaze the rest of the way, and he faltered at the witch who stood before him. She was not a rotten crone like his grandmother had warned she was: her face was young yet wise beyond her perceived age. She was tall and elegantly Amazonian. Her features were ethereal and god-like, mainly because she was a god. She was a Dieva.

The full moon caused her to appear as if she were glowing; for all Kurt knew, perhaps she was glowing. Her blonde curls were tied up, but a few strands had fallen to perfectly frame her fair face. Everything about her was perfectly beautiful, but the only thing that gave Kurt pause was her blood red irises. Even then, her eyes discerned him with gentle observation and curiosity.

“Baba Yaga,” Kurt marveled in awe verging on newfound reverence.

The witch smiled, her dark pink lips forming a smirk. She waved her hand, and black smoke curled around her fingertips and floated to the lamp on the nightstand. The bulb flickered on, the darkness banished around them now.

“You’re…” Kurt swallowed.

“Not a monster? An old crone who eats children?” She chuckled. “Most of those stories are meant to harbor fear towards me.” She tossed her head. “Rather ingenious, don’t you think?”

“I…” Kurt paused. “I don’t understand.”

“I am a goddess, kotya. I live off of the fear people have for me.” The witch sighed. “Since the Destruction, I have been starved. I roamed the Earth searching for my fear. Everyone’s fears came to pass. They have none left. Except for you.” She leaned over and gently caressed Kurt’s cheek. “This is how I found you… moy liubumiy. Your nightmares were deep rooted in your childhood fear of me. They sustained me. You kept me alive, and I am forever grateful.” She pressed a kiss onto Kurt’s forehead, and another spark of calming energy flooded through him starting at the place her lips touched him.

“What can I do for you, kotya?”

“Why do you call me that?” Kurt asked softly as he looked into her eyes, her red irises disarming him.

“Why have you believed in me for so long when many are still children when they stop?” The witch began to card her fingers through Kurt’s black hair. “Because you are special. You are special to me, and you’ve always known I was there.”

Kurt nodded swiftly. “Every moment, I felt you near me. You never left.”

“No.”

“Even when I felt nothing, you were there, far away. I could not escape you, Baba Yaga,” Kurt admitted. “Part of me did not want to.”

“Kurt Goreshter,” the witch hissed as she pressed against Kurt’s seated form. “You are mine…”

“Yes,” he whimpered, his fear long since exchanged for reverence and desire.

The witch tilted Kurt’s head back as she devoured his lips in a deep kiss. Kurt allowed her to take over his mouth, not even caring if this had been a trick and was going to siphon off his life. He was at her mercy, but then again, he always had been.

She broke the kiss, allowing Kurt to breathe again. “You have always been mine,” she stated. “Tell me, miliy, what do you want from me?” She straddled Kurt’s legs and pressed her core against him, her lips still centimeters from his.

Kurt suddenly realized how much heat he was emitting, and that he was thoroughly aroused. He strained against his boxers, desperately wanting the witch to touch him and relieve him. If this was a result of her magic, he did not care. This woman, a powerful and ancient deity, was his superior in every way. She had found his fear and fed off it, easing his anxious mind. She had emerged from the shadows and from nothing. She was a goddess, and here she stood before him. She could break his neck and end his life… and that was exhilarating. His heart raced in his chest, his skin burning where she touched him. Oh, he was gone.

Kurt’s trembling hands hovered above the witch’s waist, worrying that he would be punished for touching the Dieva goddess. “Dotron’sya do menya,” he stammered. Touch me. “Please…”

The witch stood straight and waved her hands, the black smoke magic draping her as she magicked away her sarafan and stood before Kurt, naked. She pressed her milky white skin against Kurt, her breasts so close to his face, and began to pet his hair. “How would you like for me to touch you, kotya? Gently?” She ran a finger down his jawline. “Or perhaps…” She took a fistful of Kurt’s black hair and jerked his head back, a gasp emitting from his lips. “You like for me to be rough with you?”

“Rough…” he rasped, his eyes glancing hungrily to the witch’s breasts.

She raised an eyebrow. “Say my name,” she demanded, a smirk forming.

Kurt swallowed harshly. “Baba Yaga,” he murmured.

The witch leaned closer to him, her breath tickling his face. “Louder.”

“Baba Yaga,” Kurt cried slightly louder, but not too loud so as to be mindful of his neighbors.

The witch smiled and released her grip in his hair. She stood straight again and gently guided Kurt’s desperate mouth to her nipple. “Moi horoshiy,” she praised. My good boy. As he suckled her, she let her head fall back and a moan escaped her lips. Kurt doubled his efforts as he longed to hear her make that noise again, his hot tongue dancing around her sensitive bud. He pressed his hand against her back as if to bring her closer to him.

She reached out and grabbed Kurt’s other hand and placed it on her other breast. Kurt’s fingers immediately went to work as he toyed with her neglected nipple, which sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She moaned once again and felt Kurt’s erection twitch against her thigh.

“You like to hear me, kotya?” she asked breathlessly. Kurt only sighed in response. The witch grabbed his chin and wrenched him away from her breast to look her in the eye. A line of saliva still connected his wet lips to her hardened nipple. “Answer me like the good little boy you are, miliy. Do you like to hear me when you pleasure me?”

“Yes, God, yes,” Kurt’s reply came out strained. He reached for his boxers to palm his erection. “Prekrasnoye sovershestvo…” Beautiful perfection.

The witch suddenly grabbed Kurt’s wrist with such force he thought he might find a bruise later… he did not mind. She held his hand away from his straining cock. “That is for me,” she insisted. She waved her hand, and both of Kurt’s wrists were suddenly bound with a black rope behind his back. Another flick of her wrist and Kurt’s torso was draped in black smoke. When it disappeared, his undershirt had disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers.

She snaked her hand up Kurt’s chest, her nails leaving chills beneath her touch. She slid her hand up to his throat and squeezed. Kurt swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath her palm. His breath quickened as she leaned closer to him. “Would you like to know my real name?”

“Not Baba Yaga?” Kurt wheezed. She eased her grip over his windpipe, but kept her pressure on either side of his neck.

“That’s a name to scare naughty children,” she hissed as she pressed a kiss against Kurt’s lips. “My true name, the name I want you to scream is…” she brought her lips to Kurt’s ear. “Yekaterina.”

Kurt shivered at her breath against his ear. “Please,” he whimpered, his hands twitching behind him as his erection begged to be relieved.

The witch grinned almost wickedly. “Such a needy little boy,” she uttered before she climbed onto the bed and stood on her knees behind Kurt. She placed her hands on his shoulders, slowly letting one wander down his chest while the other gripped his throat. “What do you think I should do about that, kotya? Hmm?” She kissed the sensitive spot beneath his ear and then nibbled at his earlobe. “Should I touch him?” She dragged her hand over his stomach and stopped at the hem of his boxers, one finger creeping under the elastic.

Kurt groaned as he could feel her magic swirl around his cock with such featherlight touches that he could not be sure he was actually feeling anything.

Once again, the witch waved her hand and magicked away Kurt’s boxers, his erection bobbing free in the cool air. She inched her hand further down, but refrained from touching his cock. “Maybe if he says my real name…” she suggested. Her fingers tightened slightly around Kurt’s throat.

“Yekaterina…” he sighed as his head fell back against her shoulder.

She brought her hand to his lips. “Otkryt’,” she ordered softly. Open. Kurt dutifully opened his mouth and she dipped her fingers into his wet mouth. She pushed them to the back of his throat and just as he was about to gag, she withdrew, her fingers now drenched in his saliva.

Yekaterina brought her lubricated hand back down to Kurt’s erection and slowly wrapped around his heated cock.

Kurt cried out and shut his eyes, pleasure shooting through his body.

“Yes, moi horoshiy. What lovely noises you make for me,” she praised. He whimpered once again as she began to slide her hand up his cock, her thumb stroking his purpling tip. Kurt bucked his hips into her hand, and she stopped her movement. “Stay still, kotya.”

“I—I can’t,” he whined. He tried to steady his breathing, his cock twitching in her hand.

“For me,” she said gently. “Stay still for me and you will know unimaginable pleasure.”

Kurt nodded, not knowing how much better he could possibly feel.

“Good boy,” she whispered, and her ministrations began again. Kurt shuddered beneath her touch. He let his head fall to the side against Yekaterina’s neck. His heavy breaths heated her skin, and a moan came from his chest whenever she swiped her thumb across his slit as she pumped up and down.

“Bystreye,” he begged, his voice tremulous. Faster.

Yekaterina obliged, her hand masturbating him as he wished. After a few pumps, she swiped his tip again and felt the sticky pre-cum against her thumb. He was close.

Kurt was a trembling mess and extremely vocal, his whines and moans coming with every exhale. “Chtob menya,” he cried into Yekaterina’s ear. Oh, fuck me.

“Yes, kotya, you want me to fuck you?” she breathed as her hand went faster. “You want to feel a goddess around you? To know what it’s like to fuck a Dieva?”

“Yes, God, pozhaluysta, let me fuck you!” Kurt begged, his voice cracking. He was close to the edge, a band within him tightening.

“Then cum for me, Kurt,” she ordered.

“I can’t—“ he stuttered. Beads of sweat formed at his brow.

“Trust me, kotya. Cum for me,” Yekaterina soothed. “Say my name and cum for me.”

Something snapped within Kurt, and he felt his balls tighten as he lurched forward. “Yekaterina!” he grunted. As soon as he said her name, the pleasure that swam through his body was magnified by a thousand, and he nearly screamed as his eyes shot open. He knew her magic was amplifying his orgasm; he saw stars and convulsed as he came, streams of cum shooting from his cock and onto Yekaterina’s hand. Ecstasy flowed over him in waves, seemingly never ceasing, his hips involuntarily bucking into Yekaterina.

As his orgasm began to abate, his breathing also began to return to normal as vision returned to him. He had fucked many women and even a few men, but no one had ever come close to giving him what he now considered the best and longest orgasm of his life.

“What a good little boy,” Yekaterina said as released his cock and pressed a kiss onto Kurt’s slack mouth. When his thoughts returned, he kissed her back.

He felt his hands release behind him, Yekaterina’s magical bindings disappearing. He brought his hands up to the witch’s face as he reciprocated the passion she brought.

“Do you want me to fuck you now?” she asked when she pulled away, her finger tracing his cheek.

“I can’t, now—“ Kurt began.

Yekaterina smirked wryly. “You forget, kotya. I am a goddess.” She pulled Kurt back onto the bed and straddled him in one quick motion, moving him so that his head was now at the head of the bed.

Before Kurt had any time to speak, he felt an energy rush through him, and arousal once again forced his cock into an erection. His breath shuddered, his awe at her power growing. He swallowed.

“Why do you want to do this?” he asked. “I should be worshipping you.”

Yekaterina crawled up to face Kurt and she began to trace his lips. His dark eyes watched her every movement. Her red irises burned through him as she said, “Because you are mine. You belong to me, Kurt Goreshter. And what good is moi horoshiy if he isn’t satisfied by his own goddess?” She grinded her hips against Kurt’s, her own wet heat teasing against his erection.

Kurt’s eyes closed at the sensation of Yekaterina’s arousal against his cock. It drove him mad to be this close to a goddess who wanted him, who desired his body. This had been his reward for his fear; he had been worshipping Baba Yaga without even knowing. And he had been found worthy of her. It may have been her magic messing with his mind, but he could no longer stand it: he wanted to be inside her… now.

“You are certainly eager, miliy.” Yekaterina said as she ran her fingers through Kurt’s chest hair. “I must confess: I have waited so long to make you mine, to have you surrender completely to me.”

Yekaterina slowly aligned her entrance with Kurt’s cock; he whined as he felt her dripping heat against his tip. “Pozhaluysta, vyyebi menya!” Kurt cried, his trembling hands resting on her thighs. Please, fuck me.

“With pleasure, moi horoshiy,” the witch smirked. She sank down onto Kurt’s cock, and his eyes rolled back into his head at the sensation. He sighed lewdly, his hands gripping Yekaterina so hard that she might have bruised if she were mortal. But she was no mortal, and with the divine euphoria that came from her tight walls around him, he absolutely knew: she was the witch of his nightmares and dreams; she was the enchantress he was warned about throughout his childhood and told to fear in the shadows; she was the goddess of witchcraft who would eat him alive given the chance.

When Yekaterina had adjusted to his presence, she began to rock her hips against his languidly. He thrust into her rhythm, seemingly with no conscious control: it was purely carnal instinct at that point for Kurt.

Yekaterina angled her hips forward and moaned loudly as the friction of their thrusts met her clit and sent sparks through her body. She clenched around Kurt, which caused him to gasp and groan in return. He suddenly rolled his hips into her harder, and his cock finally met her G-spot.

“Fuck, kotya,” she growled, and she snaked her hands underneath Kurt’s ass and lifted him, proving that she had the strength of a Dieva to position him in such a way that would assure her own pleasure.

Kurt met her ministrations thrust-for-thrust, Yekaterina’s magic apparently sustaining his libido. She was fast, much faster than anyone he had ever been with, and before she had even been fucking him for a minute, he had returned to his precipice.

Yekaterina leaned over Kurt, never faltering in her rhythm. “I want you to cum inside me, moi horoshiy,” she panted, her blonde curls plastered to her forehead with sweat. “Do it, and I will reward you.” Kurt nodded, and she pressed a long, hungry kiss against his lips. This time, there was no control on her end: the kiss was sloppy and erratic, a sign that she, too, was close.

Kurt moaned against her, the thought of him pleasuring a goddess sending him into his final throes. Yekaterina stifled a moan as she stilled and clenched around Kurt’s cock again and again. This careened him over the edge, and for the second time that night, he saw stars as his body seized in his own orgasm. As his first rope of cum landed inside of her, Kurt felt an additional wave of pleasure course through his body. He nearly screamed as his orgasm punched him again and again to the point he was sure he would pass out. When he thought he was nearing the end, another wave rushed through him, this time actually causing him to yell Yekaterina’s name again and again.

Kurt thought his heart was going to explode in his chest by the time his orgasm subsided. His skin was hot to the touch, and his hair was drenched in sweat. He opened his eyes, still too dizzy to see straight. His cheeks felt wet, and he realized that tears of ecstasy had fallen from his eyes. He panted, completely spent and out of breath.

“Shh, kotya,” Yekaterina cooed as she stroked his cheek. Only then did he realize that the witch was still on top of him and he was still inside her. “You did so well for me.” She kissed him once more on the corner of his mouth. “So good for me.”

Still breathless, Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but Yekaterina pressed a finger against his mouth. “Shh, catch your breath,” she insisted. She sat up on her hands and knees and pulled herself off of Kurt. Immediately, he missed her warmth and longed to be in her again, despite the fact he was no longer aroused.

Yekaterina laid beside him and continued to pet him, moving her hand to his chest and stomach. Her blood red irises watched Kurt as his breathing returned to normal. Beneath her touch, she felt his heartrate slow.

After a long while, Kurt turned to look at the witch, who was still observing him with dusky curiosity. She smiled at him.

“You’re wondering if I truly am Baba Yaga,” she guessed.

“You never said it yourself,” Kurt pointed out.

She chuckled. “I am Baba Yaga,” she admitted. “Don’t worry. You fucked the right witch.”

“You will leave?” Kurt asked.

Yekaterina sighed and rolled on her back. “The world is broken with sadness. I am a forgotten myth, now. No one fears me.” She turned to smile at Kurt sadly. “Not even you, my kotya who sustained me.” She placed her hand on his cheek. When she touched him, however, her smile dissipated. She sat up.

Kurt sat up as well, worried. “What’s wrong?”

“You still fear me?” she asked, her thumb stroking his cheek.

“You are still a witch. You can bring things back to life. Your stories have truth in them,” Kurt explained.

Relief washed over Yekaterina’s face. “You need to rest, miliy. Morning will soon be here.”

Kurt grinned mischievously and scooted closer to Yekaterina. “I find that I am not so tired anymore,” he said as he gently kissed her.

Yekaterina touched the back of his head with her black magic, and Kurt fell back, already asleep by the time she placed his head on his pillow. She stood and picked up the duvet that had been discarded a long while back and covered Kurt with it. She magicked a short nightgown onto her body and cleaned herself up at the same time. She turned out the lamp and leaned over to press one last kiss on Kurt’s forehead.

“I’ll be here when you awake, kotya,” she whispered.

Kurt’s cell phone alarm woke him, along with the early morning San Francisco sun that streamed through his window. He sighed in exhaustion; his dreams last night were intense. He was even sore from them.

He turned off his phone and pushed the duvet off. Kurt was instantly cold, and he looked down to find the reason why: he was naked. This puzzled him. Certainly he had not removed his clothes in his sleep…

He stood and found a fairly clean pair of boxers and slipped them on. It was only then he realized that he was smelling something from his kitchen. It was a burning smell: someone was cooking.

Kurt opened his bedroom door to find a tall, blonde woman in his kitchen. He blinked in shock. So he had not been dreaming…

Yekaterina spun around with a plate in her hand. “Good morning, kotya,” she said cheerily.

Kurt said nothing, but he approached the kitchen. He looked at the spread on the countertop. It was all hot breakfast foods that he knew he did not have in his apartment. Maybe a spare box of Chinese takeout and some eggs, but certainly not—

“I made some syrniki,” Yekaterina said as she pointed a pair of tongs at a stack of pancakes. “Tvorog, ponchiki, zapekanka…” She gestured to the other food items and handed Kurt the empty plate in her hand. “Priyatnogo appetita!”

He still did not move as he looked over the food before him. “How did you—?”

“Kotya, I’m a witch,” she said simply. “Now, please. Before it all gets cold.”

“So… you’re staying?” Kurt asked.

Yekaterina smiled. “As I said before, your fear is delicious.” She came over to his side of the counter and kissed him passionately. “Besides, you belong to me now, miliy. Right?”

Kurt gazed at her blazing red eyes before he glanced down at picked up a syrniki. “Always,” he replied, happy to bend his will to the witch.

(I'm so sorry you had to read that)

#david dastmalchian #kurt goreshter #mcu kurt #kurt antman #kurt x baba yaga #baba yaga #marvel baba yaga #marvel comics #mcu #antman and the wasp #infinity war

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whosscruffylooking · 4 years ago

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The Purest Things-Jack

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Warnings: Nothing. Pure fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

a/n: a short one but cute one :)

au! november 2007

the purest things masterlist

au! november 2007

Bookend: The innocence of children is what makes them stand out as a shining example to the rest of Mankind. — Kurt Chambers

Everything in your house has slumbered beneath silken dust, awaiting the day that a fresh wind would polish it clean. The past two months were filled with cases that kept you on the go. At last, there was a lull that allowed your team to have a few off days. So, you invited everyone over for a small dinner party at your house.

Running over to the stove to stir the bubbling sauce, you glance at the clock on the microwave and see that people will be arriving at any time. Right on time, the doorbell rings.

You skip over to the door and are met with the glowing faces of Penelope, Derek, and David. "Come in!" You exclaim as they wipe their feet on the doormat. Looping your arm around David's, you walk him to the kitchen, "Don't be too hard on me now. I am no artist of cuisine, but I give it my best when I go all out."

He glances at the dishes you've prepared, taking a wooden spoon and tasting your sauce, "My child, you are a prodigy! I must refine your ways: next Saturday, you and me, a lesson in Italian cuisine." "It's a date," you chirp.

Another chime of the doorbell alerts you to more visitors. "I got it," you shout behind you as you stroll to the door. On the other side of the door is Spencer, JJ, Hotch, and a little boy gripping his hand. Jack.

"Why hello there," you kneel to meet him at his level. He smiles a crooked half-smile, leaning against Aaron's leg. "Say hi," he squeezes Jack's shoulder. Instead of responding, he pulls out of his father's grasp and wobbles into the foyer. His little knees are like hinges, slowly but surely hoisting his toddler body further into the house. You can't help but giggle at how awkward his movements are, a feeling of warmth overcoming you because of the undeniable cuteness.

Lifting yourself off the ground, you greet your guests and welcome them inside.

"How old is Jack?" You ask Aaron.

"He turned two last month," he beams while admiring his young son.

"He looks like you."

"He's his mother through and through." ++++ You search for Jack and find him in the hallway, bouncing and clapping his hands as if listening to music in his mind. Unable to hide your smile, you catch the attention of David and Aaron, who stand in the foyer.

"She's taken a liking to Jack," David notes.

Aaron does not verbally respond, but his hint of a grin signals Rossi to his feelings on the matter.

Jack trips over to you, his moves formed out of chaos and not by any scientific behavior that even the great Spencer Reid could explain. You giggle as he stumbles onto the floor next to you. "Hey," you whisper playfully, "I need help finishing dinner. Why don't you come help me, and we can keep you out of trouble." Reaching your arms out to Jack, you offer to carry him into the kitchen. His words run into one another and are entirely incomprehensible.

"I'll take that as a yes," you scoop him into your arms and place him on the kitchen counter. Handing him some noodles to play with, you keep him occupied.

"She's great with him too," David nods.

Aaron doesn't need David to tell him that, though. He is observing it all for himself. His life was turned upside down when he became a father. Aaron had been blessed with a son. And along with that son came a sacred duty, to raise him in a life filled with love and protection. He knows that he has made some poor choices and has failed to prioritize his son in certain life aspects. However, he refuses to make those same mistakes again.

Aaron has to navigate this new role as a "single" parent all alone, though. He can contact Haley when necessary, but he wants to create a safe little bubble for Jack to come to when with him. Aaron doesn't have a family as Haley does. They are estranged from one another. The BAU team is the closest thing he has to family now. And here you are, the newest member, solidifying your role in this family and now your position in Aaron and Jack's. ++++ With the table set, dishes served, and everyone seated, you begin your feast. Jack insisted on sitting next to you, and you willingly obliged him. Aaron sits on the opposite side of his son, feeding him small portions of food that he can easily chew.

Jack starts to bounce up and down on his bottom; his eyes are wide, and his mouth already partly open. He is eyeing the spaghetti that wraps around your fork. When the first food goes into your mouth, he has a slightly crestfallen look but then starts his celebratory bounce again as his father draws his attention back to his tiny bites.

"Aaron?"

He looks up at you, "Yes?"

"How about I feed Jack so that you can eat your dinner?"

"No, you should eat."

"I've been taste-testing this meal all day. Please, enjoy it."

He agrees and hands you the spoon. For the remainder of dinner, you fly each scoop like an airplane into Jack's little mouth. ++++ As everyone prepares to leave, Aaron lingers...a slumbering little boy in his arms.

"Did you forget something in the house," you question, "One of Jack's toys?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I just wanted to thank you for preparing dinner, hosting us all in your home, and somehow managing to give Jack the time of his life tonight."

"It was my pleasure. And hanging with Jack? That was the icing on top of the cake for me," you softly pat Jack's back so as not to wake him.

Parting ways, you say goodnight to one another. You watch from the front doorstep as Aaron straps Jack into his car seat. He waves at you one last time as he gets into the passenger seat. Fondly, you wave back to him. There is so much to admire about that man. The thought of the Hotchner boys alarmingly keeps you up all night.

Sleeplessness is a part of your job, but at least tonight, you aren't restless because of the nightmares or the vivid images from cases that haunt your mind. No, you are awake because your heart is full. Fullness, an unfamiliar feeling that has been taking root in your heart since you joined the BAU. A feeling that you pray never disappears.

tag list 🏷

@agentaaronhotass @averyhotchner @britishspidey @cat11-2 @cecemariee7302 @chazubagi @chellybear98 @clairedragonessbaker @cpt-cevans @destiny-tsukino @frogrrylovebot @gubs-boobs @halloweenwithreid @hopelesslylosttheway @hothskies @infinte_tides @joyclubie @junoscorner @kenzies-mr-j @kyliesalvatore @mac99martin @mcntsee @megans-txmblr @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @peachyotps @prettylittlemoonlight @ptrs-prkrs @purpledragonturtles @ravenmoore14 @softhetixx @spaghetti-dad187 @spencerreidsoulmate @ssagube @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sweetiecake180 @theoldestguard @timelesstay @totalmess191 @vampiracontessa @wanniiieeee @weexinling @yoshigguk

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karofsky · 3 years ago

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alright okay alright okay. s3 starts, blaine's still at dalton, klaine never got together bc kurt never transferred and instead had the og storyline of helping dave + falling for him during it all that never came to fruition bc dave wasn't ready. sam never moved bc the writers weren't stupid and kicked chord out. samcedes had a summer fling that fell out because mercedes felt pretty unsure of the whole thing but MOSTLY her future and wasn't sure sam would be a part of it.

west side story comes around. or like, in this case, a more racially sensitive choice, they're actually doing Grease. Rachel/Mercedes battle for Sandy. Kurt still needs the role for his NYADA app (as well as the presidency-- see later). Hummelberry trying to get Sandy and Danny, Kurt still get's hatecrimed by the three for being Too Gay (even though... it's Danny like. Come on).

Meanwhile Sam, in an attempt to win Mercedes back, auditions for Danny, and is the clear front runner. Rachcedes diva off, they give it to Mercedes, but she is so afraid of everything going on b/w her and Sam that she deflects and gives it to Rachel instead, and quits to start up the Troubletones because she needs space. Sam initially says he'll quit but Kurt declines to take it AFTER--

he felt pretty shunned by the directors and realized he didn't want to have to be something he wasn't just to appease the masses, and would instead make his own way. he puts all (most; he's still cast as Kenickie lol) of his energy into his presidential campaign, WHICH he has a brand new campaign manager by his side: David Karofsky!!! Who ran into him when Kurt was eavesdropping on all the post-audition talks. The two of them maintained a friendship over the summer but things are awkward, and it's also very clear to us that whatever had developed between them romantically (read: mutual pining that was never addressed) still exists, but is a bit more tense.

After kurt explains what he's heard and about how he needs this presidency, Dave gives his full support and says he'll def be voting for him. kurt asks him for a favor, and the next we hear from them, dave's running as both manager and vp to kurt, and they're in a whole political campaign race with brittany (they still lose, because kurt can't have ANYTHING, but you know, they gained each other. or something. kurt really needed a support system in s3 and i think having dave would have been a good idea AND a good contrast to last season)

#favourite #i'm saving this don't mind me

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crazedlunatic · 2 years ago

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Bragging Rights

If you have time and ambition I would love to get a drabble with burt and Bob talking about the boys, you know the parents just bragging. Like around the dinner before the wedding?. I always come back for your story whenever life is hard for me. Thanks for sharing

“You may be one of the luckiest managers in the world to have gotten Blaine. I offered him a job setting up appointments in my garage.”

Bob, who had only met Burt a time or two, perked up when he saw Kurt’s father. “Blaine in a car garage? He did not.”

“I mean I was desperate one day and he made it two hours before saying he’d met his ‘straight guy quota’ for the day.” Burt laughed. “How’d you land him, though?”

“Oh, well, I hate having interns because they mess everything up on accident… but my cases are usually very sensitive… I kept refusing but I’d had a two-month stint in the hospital after a plaintiff tried to off me.”

“Two month stay?! In the hospital? Not recovering?”

“Yep. In the hospital.

“Wow. Cancer or something?” Burt looked surprised.

“Nope. I was walking my dog late at night. Murphy was 17 and he… didn’t survive. It was awful. Anyway, I was mostly high on Dilaudid back at work and turned, like, three interns down over the span of a few weeks… and then Blaine. Didn’t know he’d got the run around when I was out and his whole semester could have been fucked up because he fell through the cracks. I was annoyed to take him on but now I can’t imagine my life without him.”

“Did you know Kurt had a thing with his lung—”

“Yeah, I bet that was awful. I can’t imagine any of my kids going through that. Blaine talked about that a time or two… I’m almost fifty and I can’t even understand how all this violence somehow keeps getting worse. Who in the flying fuck cares what two other people do in bed?”

“Have met talked to the Thompsons?” Burt asked, gesturing towards the Thompsons and Changs talking together across the room.

“I don’t know who they are.” Bob admitted.

“But you know David and Wes?”

“Oh, they’re hilarious. We had them all over for dinner. My wife would probably have the three of them over all day if she could.” Burt gestured to where the two couples were talking. “Mr. Thompson is the one that kinda… got Blaine the help he needed. I don’t think the Changs were too involved in it.”

Bob nodded, making a mental note to introduce himself to them as Miles approached his chair and reached up.

“He is too cute.” Carole came over, smiling.

“You people keep saying that and he gets a bigger head.” Bob laughed as Miles tried to hide his face in his shoulder. “How about Kurt? I mean, Marc Jacobs is up there, right? None of my kids are famous… yet.”

“You’re famous enough.”

“Yep. And Kurt wears skirts.” Burt shrugged.

Miles rose his head up and then tilted it, looking at Bob confused. “Huh?”

“Yep.” Burt looked directly at Miles. “I think it’s silly but Kurt says it’s fashion… good fashion, I guess, since he makes a lot more money than me.”

“I’m at the point where I barely look at what I put on unless I have a trial, a meeting, or Sarah’s just laid something out that she prefers whatever that means. They all look the same.” Bob shrugged this time.

“Same at the garage. So how is Blaine doing as a lawyer?”

Bob gave him a look.

“Bad?”

“Of course not. He’s the hardest working lawyer in his age range the whole office has seen in years. Shit, sometimes he’ll still get my paperwork and start on it for me… although I’ve told him I’ve got it a million times.”

“Did you have it?” Burt looked amused.

“No.” Bob rolled his eyes as Sarah came back. He then added, “For someone whose parents were so awful he has such empathy.”

“How lucky are you two to get him as a son in law tomorrow?” Sarah smiled brightly.

“Oh, this has been years in the making. I knew that break wasn’t going to last. These boys are too predictable. Well, Blaine is. Kurt not so much.”

“You must not have heard about the trip to Canada.”

Burt, Carole, Sarah, and Bob looked up when a man stopped by.

“Canada?” Carole asked.

As if on cue, Blaine whipped around and made his way over causing the man to laugh.

“Yeah. On their break. They were going to Harbor Springs to stay at our beach house… but kept going to Canada.” Derek said. “I know because one of them went headfirst through a wall or something. They also smuggled a Canadian dog into the states… Although I imagine Blaine was probably hung over by the time that happened. He doesn’t handle his alcohol as well since everything at sixteen.”

“How do you get the stories, Derek?” Burt asked.

“Because they trust me to not say any of the stories to their bosses.” Derek laughed.

“Whoops. I heard nothing.” Bob said, looking amused as Blaine came up.

“You can’t sit at this table anymore, Bob.” Blaine said, mostly joking. “You and Sarah should go somewhere else.”

“You knew I was going to wander over here eventually.” Derek said. “To be fair, David and Wes were the troublemakers. Blaine usually got pulled into stuff… once the police were called on something that Wes did. The Chang’s went to pick them up—but Blaine had apparently been reading while the other two were trying to get into the Dalton building… even though it was summer.”

“Yeah, I was reading.” Blaine sighed. “Not quite an accomplice but I still got to see them get yelled at by you. Do we have to be doing this right now? Tonight?”

“Well, kid, Kurt doesn’t have good stories to share.” Burt said. “He doesn’t get into trouble… minus that tattoo. Which still isn’t even a good idea.”

“Speaking of, where is he?” Bob asked. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Uhm, I think he’s talking to a designer from London who was visiting Marc.” Blaine said distractedly as Dana came up, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Don’t worry, Blaine. I won’t tell your boss about your DUI.” Derek laughed.

Blaine’s eyes widened in horror and he said, “That… is my boss.”

“Oh crap.”

“Been there, known that.” Bob wasn’t fazed.

“Please. Please, if you’re able to get a hold of Wes’ dad… he’s got hilarious stories too.” Dana said to Burt and Bob. “Most of them aren’t even confidential. You won’t be sorry.”

“Can we not do that please?” Blaine asked before following Derek somewhere.

“I want to hear these stories.” Burt said eagerly.

“You should want to hear good stories. They’re accomplishments.” Carole sighed but clearly wasn’t upset.

“Kid could murder someone and I’d still take him to dessert before turning him in to the authorizes.” Burt shrugged, causing Bob to laugh. “Worst Kurt did was come home drunk and puke all over my favorite t-shirt. I somehow managed to get it out, too.”

“I can’t picture Kurt drunk.” Sarah said.

“It’s adorable.” Carole said. “It’s most adorable when they’re drunk together but I don’t think that’s happened since five summers ago.”

“With everything I’ve heard today, it sounds like Kurt and Blaine have had it pretty rough in different ways.” Bob sighed.

“It’s gotten better.” Burt reassured Bob. “I think doing so well at your firm has also done wonders for him. We’d talked ‘bout it a bit the other night. He admitted he doesn’t feel like a fraud anymore.”

Bob let out a loud laugh at that and then said, “Kurt’s never even doubted himself. To be honest I’m amazed he’s here at all. Both Kurt and Blaine have matured so much. It’s great when your kids achieve their dreams. sounds like Kurt’s going to be famous. I hope he’s ready for the spotlight.” Bob cringed.

“Think it’ll be bad for him?”

“I don’t know because it’s so different. To be honest I’ve landed in the hospital more times than I can count… but I also go against bad guys. Murders, sexual assault. I’m the lawyer that brought charges on Casey Anthony.”

“I knew you looked so familiar!” Burt gasped. “I knew it.”

“Yep.” Bob sighed. “Also the Boston Marathon bombing. They actually called me to the courthouse as soon as they realized what was happening so we could get ahead of the media chaos. That was awful having to talk to the families and stuff… also while making sure my pregnant wife was okay and my oldest two were safe in school because they went to school not too far away.”

“Casey Anthony. I remember they showed your opening and closing speeches. Pretty powerful.”

“Thanks. I wrote it ten minutes before the actual trial started.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t recommend that on Court TV.” Bob laughed.

“Now, you wouldn’t be signing Blaine up for anything like that?”

“Lawyers choose their own cases except in very special circumstances. I try to push him out of his comfort zone enough so he’ll have more experience but if he says, ‘Hey, I really don’t want to do this,’ then I’ll find someone to take it… but he hasn’t disappointed me yet… and I trust him to know his limits and I think he trusts me to give him solid advice.”

“How many people are you over?” Burt asked.

“Two hundred thirty…” Bob looked up at the ceiling. “Seven. Yeah, two thirty-seven between the two firms.”

“Gonna give that to Blaine one day?” Burt joked.

“He wouldn’t want it and I wouldn’t want to put that on him. Would you want to put Kurt over your garage?”

“Kid knows his way around a car fairly well.” Burt pointed towards where Kurt and Blaine were standing and talking with Brady and his boyfriend.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. He’d never admit it though.” Burt chuckled. “Blaine knows absolutely nothing about them. I constantly had to force him to get an oil check.”

“That sounds about right.” Bob laughed. “But I wouldn’t change him.”

“Same. Wouldn’t change Kurt either. I’m interested to see how both he and Kurt will be with babies. He was always scared with Melody at first.”

“Oh, he’s always been great with Miles! Blaine takes him to the park all of the time. Sometimes Wes’ daughter will go too. I bet he’s wanting practice.”

“You prefer being called Bob?”

Bob cringed and said, “Not really but it beats Dick which is what people called me when I first started in law. I’m named after my dad so I’ve mostly gone by Robbie outside of work.

“I get that. I get called Burt Reynolds.” Burt rolled his eyes as Melody ran over towards them. “I bet this is the ‘Mommy needs you’ which is—”

“Mommy is cold and wants food that hasn’t been sitting outside.” Bob finished.

“It was great talking to you. We’ll have to talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Definitely.” Bob promised. “See you soon.”

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