#I like to imagine this is them chilling either before or after santana has a game

[doyelikehaggis]

@glartswap for @mdverse! Merry Christmas!! <3

[purrpickle]

Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #367

Having learned her lesson about giving Rachel a heads up about climbing up to her window after getting violently attacked by a hairbrush and nearly getting the cops called on her when she stuck her head inside the first time, Santana chilled near the dark corner of Rachel’s house, waiting for the return text that would allow her to start her ascent. As she waited, she leaned back against the house, smiling absently to herself as she listened to Barbra Streisand filter down from Rachel’s room. As much as she would have complained to anyone else, it was classic Rachel - and, yeah, she liked Rachel, classic edition included.

Having just pulled her phone out to check it again, Santana froze when the back door slid open.

“As much as I’d love to ask you what you are doing loitering in our backyard,” LeRoy Berry’s voice made Santana jump, and she sloooowly turned around, staring at him, “I think I can guess. You just got back from cheerleading camp, yes?”

“Oh god.” Santana let out reflexively, swallowing back an expletive as she nodded stiffly. “Uh, yeah.” She cleared her throat, stashing her phone back into her pocket before her hand settled on her hip. “We, well, god, Rache already annoyingly had plans with you - you know how she is.” She huffed. “This is us working around that.” She paused for barely a second. “Obviously.” 

Honestly, Rachel had been incredibly annoyed at herself for distractedly agreeing to her fathers’ plans before pulling her day planner out and realizing Santana was coming home that same day. 

Hence Santana waiting to sneak in.

LeRoy laughed a little, shaking his head. Closing the door behind him, he walked closer to Santana, wrapping his arms around himself as if to ward against the chill. “At least you’re not smoking or doing something else foolish,” he offered, almost conversationally, glancing at Santana out of the corner of his eye as he stopped next to her, looking over the back yard, “Makes me just that much more willing to go inside and pretend I didn’t see you.”

As her phone vibrated in her coat, immediately drawing Santana’s attention away, Santana bit her lower lip. “Look... Mr. B...” she started, standing up straight, honestly feeling as annoyed with getting caught as she was feeling awkward, “I cans sidle on alongside the house and rap on the front door if you’d like. Make it obvious I’s here so’s you can send me along.”

LeRoy chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. And you’d go home? Not wait even longer until we went to bed and then scale up to Rachel’s room? Hiram and I had conversations when we planted that tree outside our hopeful child’s room, you know.”

Santana made a face. “Are you serious? ‘Cuz if you are, you really can’t blame me.”

Chuckling some more, LeRoy turned to smile at her. “No, no, I’m not blaming you for taking advantage of the foliage. Honestly, you’re already smarter than that flipper boy who tried to chuck actual fist size rocks at Rachel’s window.”

“Wait, he showed up here, too? At night?” Rachel hadn’t told her that. ‘Course, she hadn’t needed to tell Santana that. They’d just talked. And a lot of that talk had been about Rachel and Finn’s doomed relationship. Santana shook her head, raising her hand, “Not the point. Moving on.” She gave LeRoy one of her best, patented, ‘Rent Smiles’, it only flickering a bit as her phone vibrated again. 

LeRoy surveyed her. “Go ahead and check it. She’ll probably start to panic if you don’t.”

Santana’s ears warmed. And, though feeling a little disgruntled at how genial  Rachel’s father was being even with the general air of discomfort swirling around this encounter, she quickly tapped Rachel’s texts open.

My fathers are almost done with their nightly routine, so perhaps another fifteen minutes? Though part of me still finds this ridiculous, falling into the trap of a teenager secretly smuggling her lover into her room under the curtain of darkness, the part inside of me that misses you greatly and can’t wait to be in your arms is already jumping at the knowledge I will see you soon.

It really has been too long. I’m still kicking myself for so blindly postponing our reunion, especially since I know you’ve been missing me as much as I have been missing you. I hope the girls at your camp were nice enough to keep you occupied. Just, wait, no, not like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I know I should go ahead and delete this, but I can’t help... You didn’t, did you? I know, while we have been friends for a while, our romantic and sexual relationship is still pretty new, especially with the camp in the middle, and though I trust you... I’m sorry. Ignore this. It’s the nerves of seeing you. I’ll keep it in, however, so you’ll be able to understand my state of mind when you see me, as you’ve told me before trying to parse my complicated emotions if I don’t verbalize them is hard for you to do.

Santana? I didn’t... I didn’t insult you, did I? That’s the best possible reason for you not responding, at least. I’m doing my best not to jump to conclusions, but I did stumble upon asking you if you cheated on me, and your lack of reassurances... San? Please tell me I’m wrong.

“Fuck,” Santana hissed, ears prickling for another reason entirely than Rachel’s father standing in front of her, curiously watching her. 

She had to answer.

And even before she realized, Santana’s thumbs were whipping up a reply.

Babe. Ur dads here. Takin up my time. Dont worry. Ur cute when u panic but nothings gone on. Only u. No insults. And no conclusions. Missed u. A lot.

Purposefully ignoring the fact that she was baring more than she’d like to, Santana sent off the text and stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “Well, Mr. B?” she asked archly, crossing her arms, heart still racing in her chest, “I don’t mean to be rude -” Not. “- but can we hurry up you a), shooing me off, or b), letting me walk into your house, either with or without you?” 

Blinking at her, obviously left off-kilter, LeRoy drew it out, then guffawed - softly - and shook his head. “Alright, Santana,” he paused, looking up at the sky almost ruefully before looking back at her, lips quirking as he raised his hand, index finger pointed, “This once - just this once - I’m going to turn around and pretend I didn’t see you.”

Santana gaped at him. “What?”

“Yup.” LeRoy nodded at her, already stepping back towards the back entrance, smile gentling, “I love my daughter. And she’s been missing you. Putting up a brave front, but...” He paused, meeting her eyes. “Missing you. I remember those days.” He sobered even more, glancing back at the house. “So, just wait, mmm, about another half hour? Hiram and I should be safely in bed by then.”

Santana could only stare at her girlfriend’s father. “Really?” She swallowed, trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I... ...Yeah. Okay.” She cleared her throat, looking away as she forced out, “...Thanks, I guess.”

LeRoy turned back toward her, smile honest, almost amused, as if he could look through her. “Don’t mention it.”

And Santana, fingers curling around her phone as it vibrated with an answering message from Rachel, nodded. 

Silent as the man disappeared back into the house, “...Fuck,” Santana exhaled, dropping back against the wall, looking up and imagining Rachel looking back down at her from her window, “Jesus - fuck.”

[wheresmynaya]

Two Ghosts Ch.11 | Brittana

Hey guys! So sorry for such a long wait. Uni is back on and I’m not great at multitasking so thanks for your patience and I hope you’re still interested LOL. Here’s Ch.10 if you need a refresher first!

             Santana spends the short car ride home trying to understand what the hell happened back there and vows to keep her cool in the future because this isn’t the same super confident, smooth talking, badass she had become in New York. She’s an adult and she should be able to resist Brittany’s charm by now, not turn into the same fumbling mess she was reduced to growing up.

             At least, she hopes.

             The driveway is empty as Santana pulls up which means Maribel must be on a night shift and she has the entire house to herself. She rushes upstairs and quickly turns on the shower then tosses her duffle at the foot of her bed before bending down to retrieve the button Brittany made her. She admires her work once again and can’t help but smile at how their friendship has evolved since their talk on the bleachers. Being friends again with Brittany is something she’d never expect to be at this time just a year ago, but as she sets the button down in a safe place on her desk, the button Brittany hand-made her, Santana is reminded of why that is.

There at the corner of desk is the picture frame she upturned ages ago. As she stares down at it, her heart clenches and she feels somewhat guilty for leaving the frame faced down for so long. One picture shouldn’t carry so much meaning and it shouldn’t have such an effect on her, but it does so she just stares until the steam from the shower slowly escapes from her bathroom. She blinks away her thoughts and goes to scrolling through her favorite playlist on her phone and turning on the Bluetooth speaker on her dresser.

She’s not going to let her thoughts ruin her night, not this time.

So she sings her heart out in the shower and wraps up in the fluffiest towel she has before moving to her closet to decide on an outfit. Considering that it’s well into Autumn, Santana should probably consider something a little warmer but that really isn’t her style. She opts for a simple red cotton dress with a deep V-neck line that hugs all of her curves perfectly and pairs it with her trusty black knee-high boots. She lays everything out on her bed before moving to dry her hair and start her make up.

She’s pleasantly surprised that she’s nearly ready when she gets a text from Quinn saying she’s on her way to pick up Brittany now who is just minutes away from Santana’s house. That is, if she’s still living at home with her parents? Santana realizes there’s still a few things she and Brittany haven’t really talked about.

She adds the finishing touches to her make up and admires her work in the stand up mirror set up next to her closet. She honestly feels a little scandalous for the outfit choice but at the same time, she doesn’t really care. She’s still young and hot and she’s going to dress like it, even if she’s technically a teacher.

But there is one important thing her outfit is missing. She walks over to her desk and delicately picks up Brittany’s button before returning to the mirror. She hesitates with deciding on the right placement but it’s like she’s drawn to the left, just above her heart. As she fastens the button, she fights the urge to over-analyze the decision.

Quinn pulls into the driveway shortly after and Santana takes one last look at herself before heading out.

“Uhm, you do know this is a school function right?” Quinn teases as Santana slides into the backseat. True to Quinn’s fashion sense, she wears a thick, deep red cardigan the button Brittany made her pinned to her left, over a white blouse and light grey jeans.

Santana rolls her eyes as she buckles in, “Don’t be a hater, Q, you’re the one in the grandma sweater.”

Brittany just chuckles from the passenger seat. She’s wearing a faded red, oversized cable-knit sweater, her own button pinned to her left side as well and her blonde hair curtains her face in semi-damp waves.

“Hey, don’t be mean. I like Quinn’s cardi. It’s cute.” Brittany comments and pats Quinn’s shoulder before twisting in her seat to wink at Santana, “But you’re outfit is super hot too.”

Santana’s eyes go wide at the compliment, she hasn’t heard Brittany say something like that about her in literal years so she can’t help but freeze at her words. Miraculously, Santana goes unnoticed as Brittany twists back to turn the volume up on the radio.

 \\

               The parking lot is already hitting capacity when the girls arrive but they manage to find a spot near the back fence. Food trucks line the sidewalk heading towards the entry and as they begin their walk over, Brittany’s already scoping out who has the best food. There’s a slight chill in the air and Santana’s already regretting not bringing a jacket, but she’s stubborn and likes to think that she can pull off a cute dress in any weather so she suffers in silence.

Although she is a little relieved when Quinn points out a spot on the bleachers that isn’t too far away from the actual bonfire. They settle on the steps and fall into their usual routine of people watching, except some of these people are girls from their squad and their significant others and it feels a little weird judging them.

“So, has anyone else noticed how close Maddy and Alex are?” Quinn says quietly as the two appear next to the bonfire.

“Yeah, there’s something definitely going on there.” Santana agrees, still withholding their little janitor’s closet secret as if it’s some unspoken former closet gay girl code.

“Do you know something?” Quinn pries but Santana just shakes her head.

“Just sensing with my physic Mexican third eye.” Santana shrugs.

“That’s not a real thing,” Quinn chuckles and turns to Brittany, “What about you, Britt? Seen anything out of the ordinary?”

“Yeah, I’ve walked in on them in the locker room like twice already.” Brittany answers casually.

Quinn’s jaw drops and Santana bursts out laughing.

“And you’re just now telling us?” Quinn gasps, “What did you do? What did they do?”

Brittany shrugs, “I wasn’t going to have a whole birds and the bees talk with them, that’s just weird. I just said sorry and left. Honestly, they wouldn’t even know I was there if I hadn’t bumped into the towel bin.”

Santana continues laughing as Quinn looks as scandalized as ever.

“Who even does that in there?” Quinn says and scrunches her nose in disgust, “It smells like mold and dirty towels, so unsanitary. You could catch something just being there.”

“What? As if you never hooked up there after practice or whatever,” Santana teases.

“Yeah, the smell isn’t that bad, you kind of get used to it.” Brittany adds.

Quinn shakes her head, “No way, it’s too weird. I always thought Sue had the place bugged.”

“I never thought about that..” Brittany pondered quietly, “Sue was into some weird stuff.”

“See?” Quinn says with the wave of her hand in Brittany’s direction.

“You really took its all about the teasing and not about the pleasing seriously, “Santana jokes and it makes Quinn roll her eyes.

“Shut up, did you ever?” Quinn asks and Santana finds her smile slowly fading.

Santana remembers those days after practice and everyone else had left so it was just her and Brittany. It started with just sharing a stall because the showers really are kind of gross and Santana had bribed the janitor to do a deep clean of the last stall and no one else was allowed to use it except Santana. But then she caught Brittany attempting to shower in a different stall and she couldn’t imagine the germs and all sorts of diseases Brittany could catch, so they started sharing. Then one thing led to another and hooking up in the shower after practice became their special thing, because back then being in such close proximity like that was way too much to for either of them to handle. There was no way they could act anything but innocent.

When Santana blinks, she finds Quinn staring at her with her head tilted to the side. Brittany is blushing slightly, but that could just be from the cold, as she pulls in the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. She looks at Santana sheepishly and it makes Santana feel oddly guilty. They spent so much time hiding what they were when they were younger and it makes Santana wonder how different their lives would’ve been if they would’ve just told the truth earlier. Would they have been happier? Would they have lasted longer?

Santana realizes she’s falling down a rabbit hole of regret and clears her throat instead, choosing to fake a smirk.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell, thank you very much.” Santana says, trying to throw Quinn off but instead Brittany’s the one that looks perplexed.

Santana looks to her as whatever Quinn grumbles mixes in with the background noise. She can’t really interpret what Brittany’s thinking and it makes her wonder if she’s messed things up again. But was she supposed to say Brittany was the only one she ever hooked up with in the locker room or continue to keep that a secret as well?

“So is anyone else starving? I’m starving, how about we get some food?” Quinn says a little louder, “I’m thinking a burger. What about you guys?”

Santana just bites on her bottom lip and looks deep in thought as she stares at the dancing flames of the bonfire.

“Uh, I was thinking nachos but I don’t think I could finish it all.” Brittany begins then nudges Santana’s shoulder, “Wanna share?”

Santana looks away from the flames and finds that perplexed look is gone and blue eyes look hopeful this time. They used to share everything all the time, even before they were dating, and it eases Santana’s nerves a little that Brittany’s asking to share now. Another baby step in their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. We can share.” Santana smiles softly and you’d think by the way Brittany beams back that Santana just made her whole day.

“Awesome.” Brittany says and moves to stand up, “How about I go order and you guys save our spots?”

“I can go with you?” Quinn offers but Brittany shakes her head, “Well here, let me give you my card.”

“I got it.” Brittany replies as she’s already heading off then says over her shoulder, “I owe you for lunch from the other day anyway!”

Quinn just smiles and shakes her head, “Has she even changed?”

Santana smiles softly as she watches Brittany get further away, “Not too much, I guess.”

Quinn nudges Santana’s shoulder with hers and she refocuses on Quinn.

“I’m glad things between you guys are okay again.” Quinn says, “It’s too weird to think of you guys not being anything to each other. We’ve all known each other for so long, we’ve been through so much.”

Santana just nods as she looks back out at the bonfire, “That’s true.”

Quinn studies Santana and frowns a little, “You guys are okay, right?”

Santana really thinks about her words and wonders. Things aren’t how they were five years ago, but they’re better than what it five months ago and maybe this is as good as it gets? Or maybe they’ll have another falling out and in 5 weeks they will be back to not speaking? Or maybe they’ll be in love and together always?

At this point, who knows?

So Santana nods and says, “We’re okay.”

Quinn nods too and they both stare at the flames until Brittany comes back with a takeaway box in each hand. She pumps them in the air triumphantly as she gets closer, a proud grin on her face and it makes Santana and Quinn giggle.

Leave it to Brittany to break the girls out of their deep thoughts and over thinking.

“A burger for you,” Brittany says as she hands Quinn the box then settles in the space between her and Santana, “And nachos for us.”

Brittany balances the box on her knee as she flips open the lid, steam from the melted cheese and ground beef flood Santana’s senses and it makes her stomach rumble.

“I talked my way into getting extra jalapenos too,” Brittany says as she divides the napkins amongst them, “I know how much you love them. Or loved them? I probably should’ve asked before I did it. Do you still like them?”

Santana smiles bashfully, “Yeah, I do. Thanks, Britt.”

Brittany grins back and goes for the tortilla chip with the most cheese. They sit like that for awhile, periodically trading gossip they overheard from the squad and general people watching, and it’s nice. Santana’s missed being able to just hang out with Quinn and Brittany without anything heavy looming over them.  She missed when things were easy.

Santana and Quinn are in the middle of teasing Mr. Schue for his flannel/vest combo choice as he dances with Ms. Pillsbury by the bonfire when Brittany shoots up from her seat.

“I love this song!” She says excitedly and reaches for Santana and Quinn’s hands, “Let’s dance!”

“I don’t know..” Quinn sighs as Brittany grabs hold of Quinn’s hand and pulls her to her feet.

“Come on, you too.” Brittany says but Santana’s are wedged under her thighs for warmth, but Brittany continues to hold out her hand anyway.

Santana eyes the hand and she itches to take it, to let Brittany whisk her away for a dance by the fire, but she’s frozen. The little voice in the back of her mind whispers for her to stay, that it would be a bad idea, that this would confuse things. But her heart says it would be fun and dancing is innocent. At least, this kind of dancing is innocent, a dance with friends.

In the end, Santana shakes her head and says, “No, you guys go. I’ll watch our stuff.”

She knows she has chosen wrong from the slight twitch of a frown on Brittany’s lips, but it quickly disappears and Brittany nods instead.

“Okay then,” Brittany says and Santana watches as she and Quinn dance off together towards the flames.

Santana smiles softly as she watches the two blondes twirl and sway amongst the students and other faculty, all laughter and toothy grins. She wishes she could be that carefree but she gets so caught up in her head and that ruins everything. But in a sense, there is one thing she’s able to do just as freely as Quinn and Brittany dancing without anyone judging her and that’s admire how beautiful Brittany is when she thinks no one is watching. Maybe she shouldn’t think that way about her friend because friends aren’t really supposed to think like that, but in this moment, while she’s alone and she’s able to silence that little voice in the back of her mind, she allows it.

Afterall, it used to be one of her favorite things to do and she guesses that maybe it still is. Sometimes Santana finds Brittany’s beauty so overwhelming: the way she moves so effortlessly as she dances, the way her blonde hair flows through the air as she twirls, the sparkle in piercing blue eyes, the way her cheeks bunch as she smiles after landing a move, just her overall presence is breathtaking.

Santana shivers as a chill dances up her arms but she can’t tell if it’s from the Autumn air or Brittany. She tucks her hands further under her thighs and squeezes her arms tight to her sides for warmth although her skin is covered in goosebumps.

She goes back to watching Brittany and Quinn but it’s only minutes later that she spots someone she wasn’t expecting to be there walking towards her.

Sam Evans.

[sunshineoptimismandangels]

Not Another Ghost Story - Chapter 3

Pairing: Klaine Status: WIP Author:sunshineoptimismandangels Summary: When Kurt Hummel began an online ghost investigation show with his best friend and his step-brother he never expected to find himself alone in an abandoned and reportedly haunted hotel, but one stormy night Kurt finds more than he ever expected in the derelict and chilling Whispering Wolf Hotel. In fact, Kurt may have found exactly what he’s has been looking for. A story of romance, comedy, and sinister plots. Note: This is unbeta-ed, sorry! However, I’m in the market if anyone was interested. :D 

FF.net | AO3

Kurt's heart was pounding in his chest. Nothing about this evening was going as he'd planned. It was bad enough that Finn and Rachel had ditched him (which was better than imagining them in a lying dead in a ditch somewhere) but now he was fleeing for his life with Blaine Anderson, a man he absolutely could not stand. Kurt's head was still reeling from the fact that Anderson was here at all. It just didn't make sense.

Under normal circumstances, Kurt wasn't sure if he'd trust Blaine, but these weren't normal circumstances. Besides, Kurt had just saved him from a collapsing ceiling, so if nothing else Anderson owed him one. Kurt felt a little shaky thinking about that ceiling. A second later in stopping and either of them could have been under that wreckage. So Kurt followed Blaine down a dark hallway out of sheer necessity, Blaine's flashlight and the light on Kurt's camera illuminating the way.

"Here." Blaine spun abruptly to face Kurt his flashlight blaring in his eyes.

"Do you mind?" Kurt snapped swatting at the light.

"Oh. Sorry. Um… it's a back staircase." Blaine explained pointing his light away from Kurt's face and down a long narrow stairwell.

Kurt nodded not mentioning how precarious that stairwell looked. If Blaine wasn't afraid Kurt sure as hell wasn't. "Lead the way, Anderson."

Blaine started down the staircase and Kurt followed him. The stairs squeaked and a few of the boards were loose and wobbly, but Kurt was mostly concerned with the cobwebs he kept having to sweep out of the way. His poor hair. They got to the ground floor just as another drum of thunder filled the air. Kurt really wanted to get out of here. He kept following Blaine until they entered what must be the hotel's old kitchen, large, open, and filthy.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked not having seen this part of the hotel yet.

"My car is out back." Blaine nodded sweeping his flashlight to a back door.

"Yeah? Well, my truck is parked in the front."

They stood looking at each other for a moment before Blaine shrugged. "Good luck to you then, Hummel."

Kurt narrowed his eyes and gave Blaine the best glare he could muster under the hazardous conditions. Blaine still hadn't explained what he was doing here, but Kurt's need to get away from the Whispering Wolf won out over his desire to interrogate Blaine. "Fine." Kurt clenched his jaw glowering Blaine in the eyes until he started noting how golden they looked in the light of his flashlight and had to look away. "Good luck to you too." With that, Kurt spun on his heels and headed the opposite direction.

Kurt ground his teeth together feeling scattered and flushed. Blaine Anderson always made his stomach tight and heart pound. Not because Kurt like him. No, Kurt had gotten over that crush almost as soon as it started, back in his Junior year of High School.

He'd met Blaine when the Warblers came to his school for a "friendly" pre-competition showcase. The New Directions had started things off, singing their hearts out and feeling confident –then those damn prep school boys with their matching blazers and perfect harmonies performed leaving the New Directions feeling inconsequential and sorely underprepared.

Kurt had noticed Blaine right off, of course he had, Blaine was the lead singer, had a lovely tenor voice, and was unfairly handsome. He made Kurt's carefully protected heart skip a beat. Some of Kurt's club members must have noticed Kurt "noticing" Blaine because as they went to meet their competition backstage Santana has strode up beside Kurt.

"Please lady hips, try not to droll all over the gay Hogwarts' leading gnome. No matter how horny you are to get in his tiny pants. They're our enemies now." She turned to face him with a sly grin, "Besides, if you have a crush, it probably means he is straight." With that, Santana had sauntered off and Kurt lagged behind the group until his burning cheeks stopped giving him away.

That had been the beginning of it. When Blaine introduced himself and shook Kurt's hand Kurt saw Santana and Rachel watching him, both of them whispering to each other and giving him pointed stares. Kurt had replied to Blaine's introduction with some quip or another about Blaine's "mediocre performance". Kurt didn't even remember now what he'd said exactly, but whatever it was had done the trick. Blaine's brilliant smile slipped from his face and he backed off.

After that, it was as if Blaine knew Kurt had initially liked him. Every time the Warblers performed over the next two years Blaine Anderson would find Kurt in the crowd and stare at him until Kurt's cheeks heated and he had to look away. In high school, Kurt hadn't been very good at handling attention from attractive boys. The only thing Kurt could do in return was use his wits against Blaine's looks. Because Blaine may have been as handsome as any silver screen movie star, but Kurt knew how to place a well-worded insult like wilding a blade.

Sure, it was a silly High School rivalry and Kurt was older and hopefully more mature now, but there was still something about Blaine Anderson that got his hackles up. Seeing Anderson here this evening, unexpected, unwelcome – and as dreamy as ever, dammit – had made Kurt revert to his old self. On the defensive and distrustful.

Kurt marched into the hotel lobby grumbling under his breath, he glared at his toppled lights and the mess from the rain spewing in from the window and let out a long frustrated sigh. He should have never come here tonight. All of this was more trouble than it was worth and running into Anderson was just the cherry on top of it all. Scowling, Kurt made his way to the lights and started collapsing them, but he couldn't focus. He pinched his finger in one and then stub his toe up against another. The only thing he could think of was Blaine, which was deeply infuriating. How dare Blaine be here? How dare he show up out-of-the-blue with no explanation? Kurt stacked the last of the folded lights in a pile and stared at them as if they might have the answer to why he felt so flustered. It wouldn't do. He wasn't going to let Anderson off the hook that easily. He turned away from the lights and sprinted back towards the kitchen. The air crackling with another bolt of lightning. Maybe everything had gone wrong so far, but he was going to satisfy himself on one point at least. Blaine Anderson was going to explain what he was doing here.

He barged into the kitchen, double doors banging closed behind him. Blaine was still here, thankfully, standing by the opened back door.

"Why are you here Anderson?!"

Blaine turned, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise. "Look." Blaine nodded towards to open door, apparently unconcerned with Kurt's anger.

"What? No. I won't be distracted." Kurt was still moving towards Blaine, frustration propelling him on. Kurt only stopped when he reached the door. Blaine was looking outside and Kurt followed his gaze, the rain was still pouring, hammering down from the clouds. Some of it streaming into the kitchen through the open door crating deep puddles on the dirty tiled floor. Kurt could just barely make out a dark car parked nearby, but it was hard to see in the torrent, and the sky was dark, but not as dark as it should be at this time of night and it had a strange green tint to it.

"I don't think we can drive in this!" Blaine shouted to be heard above the rain. He closed the door and backed away. "It would be suicide to try and drive home now. And do you still live in Lima?"

"W-what?"

"That's an even longer trip. It's a bad idea."

Kurt was still carrying his camera, as it was his best source of light, he looked down at the screen instead of meeting Blaine's attentive and concerned eyes. Blaine was right of course, they couldn't possibly drive in this rain, but Kurt didn't want to admit it.

"Wait… are you still recording?"

Kurt nodded, watching Blaine from the screen of his camera. "Yes, I am."

"And why are you recording me?"

"Why not?" Kurt said lifting his chin and forcing himself to make eye contact. "If I'm stuck here I might as well record for Ghost Investigators." Honestly, he'd hardly even realized he was still recording until Blaine mentioned it, but he seemed bothered about it so Kurt wasn't going to stop.

"You are still going to film an episode of that ridiculous show?"

Kurt glared at him, anger hot in his chest, but also a little embarrassment. Ghost Investigators certainly wasn't the kind of acting he'd thought he would be doing at this point. He'd hoped to be at NYADA studying musical theater in New York by now. As it was, he was the third wheel on a trivial and only slowly burgeoning internet show. There was no way he'd let Blaine Anderson make him feel bad about that though.

"Yes I am, and since you are inexplicably here while my teammates are M.I.A. It looks like you just became the guest star on this ridiculous show."

"Wha-I can't… my fath- you." Blaine sputtered his eyes wide.

Kurt smiled and lifted his camera to get it all on tape. "Smile. You're on camera."

"I'm not doing it."

Kurt shrugged. "You already are."

Blaine opened and closed his mouth a few times looking like a fish and Kurt kept the camera trained on him and smiled. Blaine was kind of cute when he was flummoxed.

"What else is there to do?" Kurt asked forcing his voice to have less of an edge to it. "We're stuck here for now. Together. Let's make the best of it. Let's hunt ghosts!"

Lightning split through the sky illuminating the kitchen through the windows and thunder roared. Blaine jumped and held his chest. Kurt flinched as well but hoped he'd done a better job of hiding his fear.

Blaine stared at him for a moment as if trying to determine if Kurt was serious. "Ghost…" His lips quirked up in a smile that was gone before it had time to form fully.

"We won't go upstairs, because that is obviously dangerous, and we…" Kurt looked out the window where rain was spraying in. "And maybe stay away from windows." He shrugged. "There is supposed to be the ghost of a murder victim from the 50s roaming these halls."

Blaine's face went a little pale and he nodded slowly, "You don't believe in that kind of thing though… do you?"

Of course Kurt didn't, but it was fun freaking Blaine out. "Who can really say for sure?"

Blaine narrowed his eyes a studied Kurt for a moment. "You're messing with me."

"It's all for the show," Kurt said with a wink and then he immediately looked away from Blaine feeling silly. He didn't like Blaine Anderson. Why was he joking around with him? "Come on," Kurt said looking at the camera screen and moving away from Blaine. "We have a show to shoot and you can finally tell me why in the world you are here."

Blaine didn't respond and Kurt stopped a few feet ahead and turned back to see him standing in the same spot, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Anderson, move it."

Kurt continued to the kitchen doorway and didn't look back again but smiled to himself as thunder crashed and he heard Blaine hurrying to catch up.

What had started out as a bad idea was quickly becoming a massive mistake. Blaine rushed out of the kitchen following Kurt and noticing how well Kurt's pants fit him. Not that he was purposefully looking… but he wasn't purposefully not looking either.

"Back in the main lobby of The Whispering Wolf," Kurt called out over the storm and it took Blaine a second to realize Kurt was talking to the camera not him. "We are going to check out some of the rooms on the first floor." Kurt flipped the camera to face him and Blaine could see them both on screen. "Since going upstairs during this storm is an actual risk to our lives," Kurt said gravely. "Isn't that right Anderson?"

"I… um." Blaine looked at the camera and resisted the urge to wave. "You saved my life up there."

Kurt's face went blank for a moment as if that was the last thing he expected Blaine to say, he recovered quickly. "Meanwhile, you haven't even had the courtesy to thank me for that."

"I did! Didn't I? I meant too."

Kurt stopped looking at Blaine through the camera and turned to face him instead. "Honestly, we were moving so fast I don't remember, but you can thank me by telling me what brings you to the Whispering Wolf on such a dark and stormy night."

"I…"

"Are you a vagabond, sleeping rough? Has your position in the world detreated that much since High School? Or maybe you just have a predilection for old crumbling buildings? Or you were out here bird watching and got stuck in the storm?"

Blaine could tell Kurt didn't believe any of those explanations as his voice became more and more sarcastic as he went on. The problem was that Blaine couldn't think of a single reasonable explanation for being here. Even the truth didn't seem that reasonable right now.

Kurt's eyes narrowed as his mocking tone disappeared, "Oh my god. You really were here just to sabotage me. What the hell?"

"What?"

"Why the hell else would anyone be out here? You did know we were going to be doing an episode here and-"

"No." Blaine interrupted even though Kurt was dead on. "I'm here ghost hunting," Blaine said surprising himself.

"Excuse me?"

"I did see that you and your show were doing an episode here." Blaine didn't take any time to think. That was as good an explanation as any. Better than his own. "I thought I could do it better."

"What?"

"I mean you did announce online that you were coming out here it wasn't like it was a secret," Blaine said thinking on his feet. "And my brother Cooper and I thought we could do a ghost investigation show better than that embarrassing show you call entertainment." Blaine's confidence was growing. "So yes, I was here to get the lay of the land, before Cooper and I came out to film."

Blaine really didn't like lying, but the look on Kurt's face made him feel like he had the upper hand for the first time the evening. Besides, he couldn't tell Kurt why he was really here. He couldn't tell him Cooper's harebrained idea of scaring him away. Or why Blaine's father wouldn't want anyone filming here.

Kurt expression morphed from disbelieving to furious, eyebrows drawn and blue eyes flashing. "You really are a jerk, Anderson. I would have hoped you'd grown out of it, but you are every bit the cocky bastard you were back in high school."

Blaine's cheeks flushed at that. Kurt thought he'd been the jerk in high school? That was distinctly not how Blaine remembered things. "Really?" Blaine scoffed, "That's the pot calling the kettle black!"

"Oh please!" Kurt shouted angrily. "You were arrogant, self-involved, and only cared about winning!"

"You never had a kind word to say to anyone, Hummel," Blaine yelled back. "The first time we met you insulted me and the Warblers before I could say a word!

"That wasn't... I was just trying…" Kurt's face was red as he sputtered out a retort. "Well, you were purposefully there to intimidate us and make us feel inferior!"

Blaine stopped at that. Had the Warblers suggested that showcase to make the New Directions feel bad? No. Blaine thought about it, they honestly hadn't. Had they done it to intimidate them? Maybe, a little, it was a competition. The Warblers might have wanted to get in the New Directions heads, but not because they ever thought they better than the McKinley High students, it wasn't like that.

"That isn't why we were there!" Blaine finally spat out. "If you felt inferior that was your own perception!"

"Oh sure, your motives were so pure!"

Blaine was trying to think of something else to say, to yell really because this had quickly turned into a shouting match, when he noticed how very, very close he was standing to Kurt. They seemed to have moved towards each other in the heat of the argument. Their noses nearly touching. Blaine sucked in a quick breath and took a step backward. The wind howled and lightning flashed outside the windows. They both took a moment to breathe and calm themselves.

"The two of us fighting won't make a very good episode." Blaine finally said and nodded to the camera in Kurt's hands that was still filming. Blaine smiled a little and hoped his tone came off as pleasant and not condescending, seeing as Kurt seemed to think he was some kind of smug jackass.

"I don't know. I could throw a glass of water in your face and we could go for a 'housewives of haunted hotels' vibe." Kurt wasn't meeting his eyes, but Blaine was pretty sure he was teasing. He finally looked up with a sigh, "Are you trying to sabotage the episode by getting me riled up?"

"Honestly, I'm not Kurt. I concede. Tape your episode; I'll stay out of your way." Blaine motioned to the back rooms of the first floor that they couldn't actually see from here because it was so dark. "I'll just wait the storm out here you go do what you came here for."

Kurt shifted on his feet and looked to the back of the hotel, so dark it was like the huge gaping mouth of a creature just waiting to consume them.

Blaine studied Kurt's profile, pale in the light from the camera screen illuminating his face. High cheekbones, upturned nose, strong jaw. Blaine felt his chest tighten. Kurt had always been beautiful, but right now, he looked ethereal. Kurt turned his gaze back to Blaine, his deep blue eyes mesmerizing. Blaine held his breath as Kurt seemed to struggle with what to say next.

"I don't want to go back there alone." Kurt finally admitted.

Blaine glanced again at the almost palpable darkness from the back of the hotel.

"Don't say anything at all if you're just going to make fun."

"I'm not." Blaine looked at Kurt with a smile. "I don't blame you. I'm impressed you're considering it at all."

"Okay, then." Kurt pulled his shoulders back looking determined. "You wanted to do a taping of the Whispering Wolf with your brother, out of the blue and seemingly just to mess with me I might add." He held up a hand before Blaine could protest. "I can look past that. I wanted to do an episode with my unreliable friends who never showed up. But what do we have instead? Each other." Kurt held out a hand. "So, what do you say, Anderson? Partners? Just for this evening?"

Blaine looked down at Kurt's hand and could feel a smile slowly tip up his lips. This was the exact opposite of what Blaine came here to do, but Blaine couldn't help it, he loved the idea of working with Kurt instead of against him. He slowly took Kurt's hand in his, Kurt warm soft skin pressed against own calloused fingers making his heart beat a little faster. "Okay." Blaine smiled fully, this was just another bad idea in a long string of bad ideas for the evening, but Kurt's tentative smile was too tempting to resist. "Partners."

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 4]

[squaredcircleconfess]

Talking Christ #3

𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗕𝗬 𝗦𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗜𝗥𝗖𝗟𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗔𝗟

𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗚𝗔𝗡 𝗙𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗫 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗞𝗜𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗡 𝗙𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗧

Kiersten Fraust: Hey! What's up guys? It's me, Kiersten Fraust and my co-host on this crazy ride Logan Feniiiiiix! We are finally back to talk everything Christ with our great viewers, wherever you may be. 

Kiersten turns to Logan with a smile.

Kiersten Fraust: I got a question for you, Logan... Are you ready?

Logan Fenix: Oh I’m ready…  wait, for what?  This show right?

Kiersten Fraust: Yes. We got a lot to cover from the CCW show that happened. 

Logan Fenix: A lot happened on that super show, we never thought it would air due to technical difficulties even, but it happened!  Where to even begin?!

Kiersten Fraust: Well, we got a huge surprise when Natalie and Paris Traeger showed up to the dismay of Brennan Devlin. That feud is starting to take a turn.

Logan Fenix: I never thought in my life I would see a baby attack a grown man and take him to the mat, to the point the roster had to come break it up.  Then that 450 Splash from Devlin on Paris..

Kiersten Fraust: I am always for girls doing their thing, so I support Paris for what she’s doing and standing her ground against Brennan. She’s iconic as the city she’s named after.

Logan Fenix: Paris is a no good neanderthal and a degenerate.  She doesn’t work here!

Kiersten Fraust: Paris is a sweet angel that Brennan maliciously targeted

Logan Fenix: I saw Santana teaching her how to hide knives on her person before she came out there.

Kiersten Fraust: It’s a bit much. But we also have the Christ Centered Combat that happened before the show. It was just as crazy as CCW. 

Logan Fenix: And on Christ Centered Combat, we had a new Combat Crown Champion crowned in Azi, who beat Jacob Kuntz in the Sandcastle Deathmatch, and general manager of CCC Faith McKinsey has been challenged to a best of seven series with Tinsley Marshall.

Kiersten Fraust: I really feel for Faith. I mean I can only imagine running a show is tough, but to also have somebody wanting your head and want nothing more to embarrass you on television. Tinsley needs to chill out.

Logan Fenix: Tinsley is trying to assert her dominance, it could have been her in charge of the show and Faith got it all.  But at the end of CCW Christ Centered Combat, we saw Heather Haze, the current Golden Ticket Champion attack the new Combat Crown Champion, Azi.  Could we see a title vs. title match at Wrestling With Christ?

Kiersten Fraust: It is possible. Although Azi is capable of defending the Combat Crown championship to whoever dares step up to her, Heather Haze has taken that challenge. Maybe it could turn into a champion versus champion situation? Wrestling With Christ could settle that real quick.

Logan Fenix: And then we have several new contenders for the CCW championships.  Rika seems to have been picked to face off against C.J. Sweet for the Christcore, and the self proclaimed Golden Ticket, Rivers, has won his opportunity to face Siberia Zombie for the Television championship.  And who can forget the tags, the hot ones, Children of the Moon have gotten their shot at Brew Collar by defeating the Killer Baes.

Keirsten Fraust: I find this to be very interesting because C.J. has been on a rampage ever since she's won the christcore championship and she's picked up a few along the way. How do you think Rika will fare in their future match up?

Logan Fenix: Rika has been a force, and I mean, I don’t know.  If this were any other company, and in the Tokyo dome, Rika would win because Japan.  But who’s to say?  She couldn’t even go to Saudi Arabia last time, something about being banned, which Essence did first.

Kiersten Fraust: Then you have to factor in that girl gang of hers....

Logan Fenix: The trio of CJ Sweet, Rimadonna and Astraea are hot, literally and figuratively right now.  I wouldn’t want to be Rika.  But okay, Siberia Zombie has been a force, she has been to Saudi Arabia and won the Television Championship in the past.  She bizarrely claims this place ‘spawned’ her, and now, the Golden Ticket, the man who holds the record for most Golden Ticket Championship reigns, Rivers, looks to drown her in the depths for the CCW Television Championship…

Kiersten Fraust: Looking at both competitors, this match is very hard to predict. Siberia has that heart and fight in her- two things that got her the television championship. Then we have Rivers, who has just as much fight in him as Siberia does and puts everything on the line in the name of independent wrestling. Like you said Rivers has the most golden ticket reigns to his name so he knows what it takes to win a championship.. If you had to choose one, Logan, who would you choose?

Logan Fenix: I’m going to go with Siberia Zombie, she’s proven, Rivers still has questions about if he’ll crumble under the pressure.  Now, Kiersten, you pick?!

Kiersten Fraust: Like gun to my head... Probably... Rivers. I mean I like Siberia and she's such an amazing wrestler but I could see Rivers walking away with the Television championship, especially if Belle Valentine is at ringside. She could be the reason why he wins.

Logan Fenix: Hmm, that’s fair…  but then for the last one I mentioned.  Brew Collar, Wilkow and Danielson taking on Bex Thoreau and Julie Miri, the Children of the Moon.  Everyone has an opinion on how this will go, and since the COTM came here, these two groups have been on a collision course.  Who ya got?

Kiersten Fraust: The tag team division has been really hot in CCW right now and it's all thanks to Children of the Moon and Brew Collar. Not trying to take anything away from the Killer Baes, they're great despite their little annoyances. But wherever Children of the Moon go success seems to follow them. My pick is pretty obvious. Children of the Moon hands down. 

Logan Fenix: Brew Collar for me, but, there is another question.  The Killer Baes have mentioned having friends, we’ve seen Astrid and Corrie interacting with two other girls on Twitter…  could we see their tag team grow into a stable, and what would that mean for this match?  Clearly the feud isn’t over between them and the COTM…  but the COTM and Brew Collar have their own problems.  What a mess.

Kiersten Fraust: More girls added to The Killer Baes? That only spells trouble for everybody. And speaking of trouble, Conor Machina made his grand appearance on CCW television with an open challenge. A challenge that was answered by Void Walker. Watching the whole thing gave me the creeps. 

Logan Fenix: Bun Bun is Void Walkers brother, Kiersten.  A Southern religious mans’ brother is a man who wears a rabbit mask over his head.  And at the end, Conor accidentally unmasked him…  and now Bun…  I guess Ben Walker is more dangerous than ever alongside his brother?

Kiersten Fraust: Oh, right. Bun Bun Ben Walker definitely made his presence known when he hit Conor with a chair and proceeded to viciously beat him with it. Either way, Void Walker said he would see Conor at Wrestling With Christ. Sounds like a match will be set between the two. 

Logan Fenix: I like Bun Bun Ben Walker.  Let’s see…  after that, there’s something weird going on with Neve.  Did you see her reacting to that guy heckling?  She should have gotten him thrown outta here!

Kiersten Fraust: Yeah, I saw him and that huge sign he was carrying. She must have known him? I mean you can say that about literally most of the fans in the venues. Most of them are there to watch and react to what's going on, then there's the hecklers. Moving on, we have to discuss what took place after Mitch McMaster stumbled into the venue. While Angel was trying to compose her father, Chellsea showed up to tell Angel who her next opponent would be and that is Mykie  Villanueva! Angel didn't look too happy.

Logan Fenix: I hope those people Mitch ran over are okay too.  But yeah, Mykie Villanueva, she hasn’t been seen since that tour Rock Pearson did back in Guatemala.  Apparently it’s gonna be a main event of CCW Sunday School, the morning before Wrestling With Christ?

Kiersten Fraust: We heard it from Chellsea's own mouth. So, Angel McMaster versus Mykie Villanueva is official for CCW Sunday School. Considering the outcome of the Mitch and Santana match, Angel is going to be a very busy champion come Wrestling With Christ. You saw what happened in that match, right?

Logan Fenix: An old man was caught on fire, there was an attempted drowning, stabbing, and more.

Kiersten Fraust: Now Santana Johnson is the number one contender for the CCW heavyweight championship at Wrestling With Christ. Let that sink in.

Logan Fenix: Nate Paxton was visibly angry at ringside, he’s been professional but he’s a outspoken critic of deathmatch wrestling.  People on the internet are mad.  All 47 of Santana's daughters are ecstatic, though.

Kiersten Fraust: I do not want to be Angel right now. Defending your championship is one thing but to defend it against a guy like Santana is another. The CCW heavyweight championship match is going to be a roller coaster ride.

Logan Fenix: As if being in Saudi Arabia wouldn’t make you nervous enough.

Kiersten Fraust: Speaking of making someone nervous, I know our next guest will. Please welcome our guests at this time, one of the many bosses in CCW Chellsea and her lovely husband Daequan!

The cameras pan over to where Chellsea and Daequan walk from as she takes his arm, leading to the table to join Logan and Kiersten. Both given microphones.

Kiersten Fraust: Thanks for joining us guys.

Chellsea: Thank you so much for having us. Your outfit is so cute.

Daequan didn’t speak, silently looked between Kiersten and Logan, then down at Chellsea’s rear end.  Then he looked up to Kiersten and Logan and gave them a thumbs up.

Logan Fenix: Uh…  hi to you too Daequan.

Kiersten Fraust: He's just showing love and appreciation for his wife. I just gotta ask now, what made you bring Mykie Villanueva to CCW?

Chellsea: It was my Dae's idea actually. I know he doesn't speak much but when he does, he says the most beautiful and intelligent things. Plus, Angel likes to talk herself up to anybody who'll listen to her and as a boss here, I have the unfortunate duty of finding her an opponent before defending the CCW heavyweight championship against Santana. 

Logan Fenix: Are you not worried Santana will go too far?  He’s known for…

Daequan makes a stabbing motion, while standing behind Chellsea in an uncomfortable seeming manner and seemingly mesmerized by her.

Logan Fenix: Yeah that, stabbing.  And how about unfairness?  She has to face Mykie before she can even get to that murderer?

Chellsea: I did set up the match between Mitch and Santana because it was fair. Mitch lost in the end which means that Santana gets his shot at Angel's championship. I don't see the problem with that. Yes, Santana is so out there with his antics and I was always under the impression that Angel is up for any challenge. My first priority to any wrestler who steps into our CCW ring is their health and well being. 

Daequan: Men and women of action are favored by the Goddess of luck.

Logan Fenix: What.

Kiersten Fraust:  I think he means that you get what you get... Daequan, who's your favorite tag team right now?

Daequan paused and thought about it for a moment before pointing at Chellsea’s chest.

Logan Fenix: Yes we get it you love your wife but an actual tag team, please.

Chellsea: Calm down, Logan. My husband is a little camera shy. But we absolutely enjoy Farm Fresh Beef. I hope we see more of them.

A sudden scream echoed out, the voice of none other than Sydney Vahle who was a known Farm Fresh Beef fangirl.

Sydney Vahle: “YESSSS!”

Logan Fenix: “Hi Sydney, bye Sydney.”

He waved as she passed by the door.

Kiersten Fraust:  She's crazy about that team. Anyway, what can we expect from the upcoming Wrestling With Christ? Any surprises planned? Because judging from the last time CCW was in Saudi Arabia literally all hell broke loose.

Daequan: When Chellsea got her titties out, everyone goes all out.  I think that answers your question.

Logan Fenix: That does not answer our question and please don’t have those out over there Chellsea, they’re very old world and it would be unsafe.

Chellsea: Dae likes to joke around. And I am very well aware of how they live in Saudi Arabia and I will be respecting their culture for the safety of the roster that will be traveling with us.

Logan Fenix: Okay, just a few more questions, I think.  You’ve been sort of running the show alongside Brennan Devlin.  How is that relationship working out?  At first it seemed like you were butting heads but, you two were actually seemingly getting along at Thot for Christ?

Chellsea: Brennan and I have an understanding, and yes we've been friendly. We'd rather be working together than butting heads. The work environment is so much better because of it and the product has gotten better because of it. We like seeing results with the hard work our roster puts in.

Logan Fenix: Anymore questions, Kiersten?

Daequan remained behind Chellsea, hands on her rear end now.  They were a bit uncomfortably in love and made it awkward for everyone.

Kiersten Fraust: Who are you wearing?

Chellsea: Chanel.

Daequan: She’ll be wearing my *bleep* in a second.

Before they could ask much else, Daequan lifted Chellsea up onto the table and actually started undressing her while they kissed passionately.  Several cords being torn down or loose as Logan and Kiersten looked on in horror.

Logan Fenix: Shit, cut, cut, we can’t show this.

Kiersten Fraust: Cut the feed now, this has been Talking Christ!  See you guys next time!

A blur coming up on the screen at some sudden nudity as the feed slowly shut off.

[leigh-kelly]

Anything Your Heart Desires Will Come To You

[seeroftodayandtomorrow]

The Prince and the Moon God

Chapter 9

Read on AO3

They are on the move once more, and Blaine stand sat the railing, looking into the direction they're going. Even though he knows it will be some weeks until they reach their destination, he keeps trying to see the Isle of the Moon in the distance, constantly expecting it to rise up on the horizon. He looks to it with equal dread and relief.

The journey has become stranger. During the day, they go at a normal pace, as slow or as fast as the wind lets them, and Blaine can't see much progress as he watches, as around them, once they have left the harbor, there is nothing but the sea. At night, though, they seem independent of the wind. The ship rocks, the sea is wild, and still they go faster than Blaine has ever experienced.

He wants to ask questions, but doesn't. The atmosphere on the ship doesn't seem to allow it. Everyone is tense, working in silence broken only by sharp, short commands. He hardly sees Kurt. They still share the stateroom, but Blaine is in it at night and Kurt during the day. Breakfasts have stopped, as Kurt goes to sleep as soon as dawn rises, to rest from whatever it is he does at night.

Blaine feels more out of place than ever, even at the very beginning of their voyage. And now, he doesn't even have a place he can go to in order to not be in the way and also to not feel quite so very alone, because it becomes more apparent whenever he sees the others working together as a group he can never be part of.

But he has forgotten there is one other who is in a similar situation—on the ship, but not part of the crew. He sees Brittany climbing the rigging, quick and nimble and fearless, and sitting far above them with her hair fluttering in the breeze. She looks free and somehow more than human, like a being of the air and the sea without ties to earth.

After a few days of watching, he finds the courage to join her.

His soles have gone supple and leathery from going barefoot, and his palms are work-roughened, but he still has a hard time climbing. The rigging digs into his hands and feet, and it sways and moves the whole time. He is sweaty and terrified by the time he reaches the top, clinging to the ropes for dear life.

“Hi,” Brittany says.

“Hello,” Blaine pants. “Can I...can I join you?”

“Sure.” She even scoots over, without holding on to something.

Blaine sits down slowly, carefully, taking some time to sort his limbs and find what is left of his equilibrium. He looks down once, by accident, and has to swallow. He grabs the ropes so tightly his knuckles are white.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh.”

He is dizzy and scared, and he is scared of being scared. How will he ever manage to cut his own wrists if he can't even face a little height? He can't be afraid of dying. He has to die.

“You look terrified,” Brittany says.

“I am terrified,” Blaine admits.

“So why didn't you stay down there?”

“I don't know. You looked...like you were happy up here. Light, and free. Not really human anymore.” His thoughts sound strange when he says them out loud, but Brittany just smiles.

“I'm not. I'm with Santana now. I'm growing more like her every day.”

Blaine doesn't know what to say to this, so he is silent. He tries to be not so terrified anymore, to sit more comfortably. He looks around, tries to find some of the freedom he thought would be here.

It's not there. There's only wind, and sun, the screeching of the seagulls, and Brittany.

“Are you happy to be here?” he asks awkwardly.

She shrugs. “I'm happy I'm with Santana. But she's always sad now.”

“Why is she sad?”

Brittany leans forward, her elbows resting on her thighs. Her legs are swinging. Blaine gets dizzy just from looking at her, and he grips the ropes tighter.

“Because the captain is sad, and angry. That's why the ship is rocking so much at night, and everyone else is sad as well. Particularly Santana.”

“What are you talking about?”

Brittany sighs and looks at him as though he's deliberately obtuse. “The captain and the crew and the ship, they're all one. So if the captain is sad, the crew gets sad, and the ship gets sad.”

Blaine doesn't really understand more than before, so he focuses on the one thing he does understand. “Why is the captain sad?”

“I'm not sure. Santana thinks it's because of you.”

Blaine nods. It's no more than he had feared. He has brought the whole ship into danger; of course Kurt is angry. But why sad? Maybe Brittany has misunderstood.

He tries for a grin, and feels it slipping off his cheeks, dropping down to the deck and breaking into a thousand pieces. His voice breaks as well as he says, “Well, I'll be gone soon. Then he won't be angry anymore.”

“Of course he will. It'll be even worse, because you'll be gone.”

Blaine climbs down soon after, his legs shaking and his mind shaken. He doesn't know what to think anymore, can make no sense at all of Brittany's remarks. He is no stranger to magic, has grown up under its shadow all his life, but this...? The captain, the ship and the crew are one? He has never heard of a spell like this and can't even imagine why one would want to cast it. Their journey is strange, yes. He's never been on a ship before, but he knows they don't just go faster at night and rock when there is neither wind nor waves. But...he just can't wrap his mind around it, and so, as the day goes by and he either sits in the galley or is up on deck trying to be in nobody's way and miserable no matter where he is, he eventually stops trying.

He should be past caring, he tells himself. None of it matters anymore; in a few weeks—and as fast as they are going, it can't be more than two or three at the most—they'll reach their destination. There's no need to worry what Kurt may think of him because he will be gone...he will be dead. And Kurt will forget him and go on.

If he must think, there are other things to think about. For example, why the amulet never stops buzzing, vibrating against his skin all the time. He knows it's glowing, too, though he doesn't dare unwrap it. And there are still the strange words of the inscription that he is sure are important, but he still doesn't know what they mean.

He worries a little about that, but his thoughts keep returning to Kurt, and in the end, at nightfall, he stands at the stairs and watches Kurt emerge from his cabin.

He looks tired, as always these days, but there is still a little glow to him, and when he walks past Blaine with barely a nod, the amulet against Blaine's chest trembles so much his shirt moves with it, and he has to clutch a hand above it to keep it still.

Kurt walks up to the railing, to the wheel, and looks out into the dusk, at the rising moon. He says a few words to Santana but then turns around to Blaine, who is still standing on top of the stairs even though he knows he should go downstairs to avoid things getting awkward.

Kurt looks back at him with the smallest of smiles, but there is so much heartbreak and loneliness in his eyes that it makes Blaine's breath hitch. He doesn't know what caused that look, if it was him, but he knows he would do anything to make it go away. It doesn't matter if he has to go soon; as long as he's here, he wants to try and make things better. He doesn't quite know how, but he knows he'll have to try.

Because as he lies in bed that night, the ship has stopped rocking. Cold and loneliness seem to permeate every plank. It chills him to the bone, and he knows that every person on this ship feels the same. And if they are all, like Brittany said, somehow tied to Kurt, he is the only one who can make it better.

The next morning, not too early, he takes a deep breath for courage and knocks on Santana's door. He hopes she isn't asleep: he has never been able to determine when, if at all, she is asleep. She certainly always seems to be around when someone makes a mistake. And he has made a mistake, and can only hope she won't take him down as deep as he deserves.

As she opens the door, she is dressed, alone and doesn't even seem overly unhappy.

“I expected you earlier,” she says by way of greeting and motions for him to come in and sit down on her clothing chest.

He gives an inner head shake and decides not to wonder how she knew he would come. There are too many things going on here he doesn't understand; he'll go mad if he wonders about all of them.

“What do I do?” he asks instead. If she knew he'd come he has no doubt she knows why he's here, and anyway, it's not so hard to guess. The situation on the ship is one really, really giant elephant in—well, on the ship, and if he wants to take the metaphor further, it's about to crush them.

“I'm not sure there's something you can do,” she says pensively. “To be frank, I fear you have managed to destroy us.”

“But how? I know I brought the guards on your ship, and I'll be eternally sorry to have endangered you. But...we escaped, didn't we? I mean I -”

“Not that, you longshore lubber. That was bad, but what's going on now is so much worse.”

“What is going on?”

Santana sits down on her bunk, draws up her knees, and looks at him as if contemplating how much to tell him. After a long while in which Blaine hardly dares breathe, she speaks.

“For....people...like Kurt and me, there is...one person on earth, in all of time, who is, I guess you could say, meant to be with us. We can be with other people, of course, but that one person is special. They can...change, if they choose to, to be like us, and stay with us forever.”

She looks at him, and her gaze is hard to interpret. There's joy in it, and rage, and so much sadness.

“Very rarely do we find that person. I have been incredibly lucky to have found Brittany, and she has agreed to change for me so we can be together. Kurt thinks...he thinks you are that person for him. I'm not so sure. For both of us to find their person, in the same part of the ocean, and at this time....would be so improbable as to be practically impossible.”

When she looks at him now, Blaine has to look away. Her eyes are hard, her gaze unflinching and cold.

“I don't want it to be you. I don't know who you are, you are lying to us, nobody knows what's going on with you!”

She's almost screaming, and Blaine flinches, but almost instantly, she calms again.

“It would be nothing if you made him happy. But as all of us can plainly see, you're not. He's as miserable as I have ever seen him, and so are all of us, of course. I don't know what's wrong with you that you don't want him, but if you don't, then...then there's nothing you can do. Nothing anyone of us can do.”

Her voice breaks at the last words, and she doesn't look at him. She doesn't continue speaking, so after a moment, Blaine quietly leaves.

He goes to his hiding place in the hold. He hasn't been there since they've been on their way again, because he doesn't like to remember the terror he felt when the soldiers came so close to finding him. But now, it's the only place he can go.

His pallet is still lying on the floor. A few rat droppings fall out of the folds of the blanket as he pushes it to the side, but he pays them no mind; he sits down heavily and finally lets the tears fall.

He doesn't understand half of what Santana said, but what he does understand is that he has brought this pain down on Kurt. For if what she says is true, if there is but one person for him in all the world, and if you believe that against all odds you have been lucky enough to find that person, how much must it hurt to lose them?

And lose him he must, because Blaine can't stay.

He can't.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “A Night on the Escape” (Rated NC17)

Kurt and Blaine are asleep in the loft when an unforeseen event forces them out on the fire escape. (1260 words)

A/N: Bringing this back and re-writing it because it's frickin' hot, man xD And I don't mean the sex, I mean, it's summer and it's sweltering. At least they're having fun xD Warnings for light exhibitionism, rutting, and a shared somnophilia kink.

Read on AO3.

“Blaine …” Kurt groans, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It does nothing to dry his skin though since it’s inundated with sweat. “Blaine, hand me the sunscreen.”

“Wh-what?” a tired voice mutters beside him.

“The sunscreen,” Kurt mumbles.

“What are you talking about, baby?” Blaine blinks heavy eyelids, focusing his sleepy brain on trying to figure out what his boyfriend wants. But sweat from his brow drips into his eyes, and the vision he fought to clear blurs again. All Blaine knows is it’s hot and it’s dark, and for some reason Kurt wants sunscreen.

“Did you forget the sunscreen again?” Kurt feels around with his hand, brushing Blaine’s leg as he gropes for the bottle he’s sure must be somewhere between them. “I’m going to burn like no one’s business if I get any more sun.”

“Kurt …” Blaine reaches out and shakes his sleeping boyfriend. “Kurt, honey, wake up.”

One particularly hard shake has Kurt sitting straight up, blinking and peering into the darkness of their bedroom. He sweeps his gaze around the room, pitch black even for nighttime, confused as to why he thought they were at the beach. He sits still for a moment to get his mental bearings, and figures out why. It’s hot - miserably hot and humid, making it hard for him to breath. Sweat rolls down his arms, his neck, his back, and various other places he didn’t know he could sweat. He even feels it meandering over his scalp, through the strands of his hair. The sheets beneath him squish when he moves, drenched with sweat, and Kurt cringes.

“Gross,” he whines. “What happened to the a/c?”

Blaine sits up beside Kurt, wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt, and examines the extreme darkness of the loft.

“I think there’s been a brown out,” Blaine says. “Look … the alarm clock’s out, the lamp in the living room’s off …” Blaine gets out of bed and walks to the window, putting a hand over his eyes to see out into the street. “The streetlight’s are on, but I don’t see any lights in the windows.”

“Ugh! Well this sucks! Who knows when they’re going to get the electricity back on? I can’t sleep in this heat!” Kurt flops back on the sweaty sheets. He hears them squelch beneath him, and his jaw drops in disgust. “Yuck!”

Blaine turns slowly, scanning the place while he thinks of a solution.

“Come on,” he says, rushing into the living room and attacking their futon. Kurt can’t see him, but he can hear the rustling of the mattress being moved.

“Blaine …” Kurt grouses. He gets up, his pajamas uncomfortably moist, his limbs weighed down by exhaustion and the intense heat that only seems to get worse when he moves. “The living room isn’t going to be any cooler than the bedroom.”

“We’re not sleeping in the living room.” Blaine opens the window that leads to the fire escape and starts shoving the futon mattress out onto the enclosed metal ledge.

Kurt watches him, too tired and too hot to argue. Blaine pushes the last few inches of mattress outside and claps his hands together in triumph. He turns to Kurt standing a few feet behind him, swaying on his feet.

“Don’t just stand there, Kurt! Go get the pillows and a blanket!” And with a giggle that Kurt has no idea how Blaine has the energy for, Blaine climbs out the window. Kurt shakes his head, torn by Blaine’s solution. He’s not too keen on sleeping outside. The words ‘Kurt’ and ‘the outdoors’ are not often used together in the same sentence. Then again, the idea of melting in an overheated loft isn’t winning any awards either. With a long, overheated sigh, Kurt gathers up the pillows and blankets from their sweat-soaked bed and drags them to the window, feeding them out to a waiting Blaine.

“It’s so much cooler out here! We should be sleeping out here every night, Kurt! Imagine the money we’d save on our electric bill!”

“If you say so.”

Kurt yawns. Saving money on their electric bill would be nice, especially considering how much Con Ed soaks them during the summer. But he’ll be impressed in the morning. Later in the morning. He’s too hot and too tired to care what their bill looks like right now.

He struggles to climb out the window. Blaine offers him a hand when his lounge pants catch on the raised head of a nail embedded in the sill. Kurt steps out on the mattress and climbs beneath the blanket, sighing with relief when a cool breeze swirls around them, sending a welcome chill shooting across his skin.

Kurt closes his eyes, waiting for Blaine to settle down beside him so he can knock unconscious again. He feels Blaine slide beneath the blanket, but after that, Blaine shifts around, bumping Kurt with his elbow and kicking him with his heel.

“Hey! What’s going on back there?” Kurt reaches out a hand to pat whatever part of Blaine he can find. His fingers come in contact with smooth, bare skin, and Kurt’s eyes shoot open.

“Wha---what are you doing?”

“Trying to get comfortable,” Blaine says. “My clothes were strangling me. Besides, it’s not like anyone can see me.”

“I’m not so sure that that would stop you.” Kurt snickers. “You forget, I was there when you pulled a Coyote Ugly down at Amnesia last Friday night. You were nearly down to your briefs before Santana and I yanked you down.”

“Uh … I was also drunk.”

“Hmph. So you say.”

Kurt shuts his eyes and rolls onto his side. Blaine shimmies up behind him. He wraps an arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls him close, pressing their bodies together so Kurt can feel his half-hard cock push against his back.

Kurt scoffs. “No.”

“Come on, Kurt,” Blaine whispers in that velvety voice that can pretty much persuade Kurt to do just about anything. “Give it a shot. Live a little.”

Kurt sighs for show, but smiles since he knows Blaine can’t see him.

“You’re not going to let me sleep until I undress, are you?”

“Probably not,” Blaine admits, shamelessly kissing down Kurt’s neck.

Kurt weighs the pros and cons for a second longer, peeking around to see if any of the other buildings had a clear view of their fire escape.

“Fine.”

Blaine leans away so Kurt can pull off his damp shirt and the pants clinging to his legs. He has to admit, it feels better to be rid of his oppressive clothes. As soon as he’s free of his last piece, Blaine slips up behind him again, fitting his hard-on between Kurt’s cheeks and rutting slowly.

“Blaine …” Kurt moans, slightly irritated … but only slightly. “I have to get to sleep!”

“Then go to sleep,” Blaine murmurs in Kurt’s ear, moving in long, languid thrusts over Kurt’s hole. “I won’t wake you if you do. I promise.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and readjusts his head on the pillow, not willing to divulge that this happens to be one of his favorite secret kinks, though he suspects that Blaine already knows.

“Al-right,” Kurt says dramatically, pushing his ass back against his boyfriend’s cock and closing his eyes, letting the quiet pants of Blaine’s breathing mix with the soothing sounds of the city to lull him to sleep. “Just don’t get too loud, or Mrs. Sponetti upstairs will call the cops on us … again.”

[flauntpage]

Can You Like Gabe Kapler and Not Like Him at the Same Time?

I’m here to answer a question that I was asked the other day by someone in the strangest of places.

My daughter is a dancer and her character shoes broke during dress rehearsal for a show she is in.

Desperate for a new pair, I ended up ordering her a new pair on Amazon. However, I wasn’t sure how the sizes ran, so I asked a question first, hoping someone would answer it.

The person who answered the question suggested had the name “Phillies” in their username. When I thanked them, I signed off with a pleasant, “Go Phillies.”

The follow up response was filled with too many LOL’s for my liking, but there was an interesting question posed in there. “Is it possible to not like Gabe Kapler and still like him at the same time?”

I didn’t answer the question, because I didn’t want to continue a weird conversation on Amazon that started about dance shoes and turned into a Phillies conversation, but the question intrigued me enough to want to write this post.

And here’s the answer:

Yes. Yes it is possible.

Ironically, it’s how I feel on most days when watching the Phillies. Because I never know what Gabe I’m going to get.

There are days when I am incredibly frustrated by his managerial decisions. There are days when his lineup leaves me scratching my head. There are days when he says something at his post game press conference when I think the guy is a snake oil (coconut oil?) salesman.

And then there are times when I think he’s coming around more to my line of thinking. He leaves his best pitcher in a game, despite the fact that analytics would have had him removed an inning or two earlier. He makes a gutsy decision to go all in for a win by trotting out a starting pitcher in the 16th inning of a game on one day rest rather than resort to using a position player as a pitcher as he was wont to do earlier this season.

It’s hard to argue that the guy has done a nice enough job of being a player’s manager – at least for the younger guys in the clubhouse – to have them believing enough in themselves that they are a good team.

And although the laser light show and fog machines in the clubhouse after wins may have been a bit much, when you have a record of 57-44, are in first place and have the second-best record in the National League, it’s hard to argue against that clubhouse culture.

It’s been successful through 101 games. More successful than they could have ever imagined. And with the Washington Nationals unexpectedly coming apart at the seams, the Phillies are in this for the long haul this season. They will be in the playoff race until the final days of September.

Even though there is good fortune there, Kapler has still been at the helm of the ship and kept the boat on course, even when there were plenty of chances for it to veer completely off the map.

And yet, recognizing those things, I’m still not ready to crown him as a managerial genius or mastermind like some others are.

Take for instance:

Gabe Kapler is quickly becoming my favorite Phillies manager in my lifetime. Can't sing his praises enough. Guy's got it.

— Matt Smith (@DTMattSmith) July 25, 2018

I used to work with Matt. He’s actually a sharp baseball mind, even if he does wade a little too deeply in the deep end of the fancy stats pool.

But let’s slow the eff down with this take.

He hasn’t even earned his first playoff berth and Matt’s got him ahead of the guy who won five consecutive division titles and a world championship? Chill out buddy.

But he isn’t alone:

Are you ready to join WIP Evenings’s official Gabe Kapler fan club… “Gabe’s Guys?” #GabesGuys

888-729-9494 pic.twitter.com/FL0RA4Q31D

— WIP Evening Show (@WIPEvenings) July 25, 2018

I guess women aren’t allowed to like baseball or support the manager… but I digress….

The point is, becoming a blind loyalist at this point is dumb. Likewise, being a cantankerous grumbling curmudgeon who hates Gabe just because he’s different from what you are used to is pretty dumb too:

Is Gabe Kapler winning games for the Phillies because of analytics. or despite them? What statistical analysis supports the insane way he used the bullpen in the past 2 games? Yet somehow he won both of them. Is he smarter than us, or just like lucky?

— Angelo Cataldi (@AngeloCataldi) June 18, 2018

To be accurate They’re Dusty’s Dudes! Kapler is a fraud.

— Chris Audesirk (@audidadx4) July 25, 2018

I really want to like Gabe kapler, but when he says the most important at bat of the game was Knapp’s 1st inning leadoff strikeout u can hear the rocks rattling in his empty head. Lol. Continues to insult our intelligence, or does he believe his nonsense. Think it’s da later

— Rick Korpics (@rpk623) July 26, 2018

Actually, this last comment isn’t that stupid. It’s pretty accurate.

Yesterday’s game featured a huge bases-clearing triple by Carlos Santana and Scott Kingery’s first home run in a month, two at bats that were infinitely more important than Andrew Knapp’s lead-off strikeout.

Knapp’s at bat was as good as an at bat can be for a strikeout, but it was still a strikeout. It was ultimately unproductive.

Yes, it was 13 pitches. Yes getting the starter out of the game earlier is a good thing. However, there were other long at bats prior to Walker Buehler leaving the game. For example, Rhys Hoskins worked the count full before he hit his solo homer in the very next at bat after Knapp.

What Kapler was really saying with his comments in that tweet above was an “eff you” to the critics who wonder why Knapp is leading off in the first place.

He’s now 1-for-8  with no walks and three strikeouts in two games leading off, so depending on how you measure success will depend on what you think of those numbers, but to me, they aren’t good and he isn’t a good option there – especially when your lead-off hitter has the most plate appearances in a game.

So his comments were self-serving. They were his way of justifying why he thinks he’s smarter than you. Rather than ignore it, or simply say something like, “Hey, I know we didn’t get the result we wanted but working a 13-pitch at bat to lead off the game really set the tone for us for the rest of the day,” which would have been more than justifiable, he went all-in on his take that it was the most important at bat of the game.

We aren’t dumb Gabe. We know the game too. We recognize it for what it was. Don’t make it out to be more because it makes you look good.

But it’s not just his post game “everything is awesome” commentary that gets under my skin. I at least understand the rationale behind it. Protect your players and they will be more willing to run through a brick wall for you.

That’s Gabe’s greatest strength so far – having his finger on the pulse of most of the locker room (I say “most” because I’m sure there are veterans in there who don’t completely buy in to his approach).

But his reluctance to try anything different to fix the defensive woes of this team is an example of his stubbornness that his way is the best way.

According to Sports Info Solutions The Phillies dead last in defensive runs saved and in defensive runs saved by shifting:

Most Defensive Runs Saved – 2018 Season

Brewers 93 Diamondbacks 89 Braves 49 Cubs 43 Yankees 40 Marlins 38 Astros 37

Fewest Phillies -80 Orioles -70 Mets -60

— Sports Info Solutions (@SportsInfo_SIS) July 24, 2018

This is partly because the players have been atrocious, but this is also partly because they are playing out of position so much in their position.

In other words, shifting is one thing, extreme shifting is something else.

Against Baltimore, Maikel Franco had to make a game-saving diving stop on Chris Davis on a ground ball that would have been a routine play if he was playing in his normal position. But he wasn’t:

The very next day, Kapler not only continued that shift, but got more extreme, putting all four Phillies infielders on the same side of the diamond.

Granted, it didn’t hurt, as Davis struck out each time he came to the plate, because he stinks, but the fact is, this play aside, the Phillies are often left to mentally make adjustments on balls that would normally be routine.

It has plagued them consistently. It’s why they are last in baseball in defensive runs saved from shifting.

Maybe don’t shift so far. Maybe shift a little bit. And really, do we need four infielders on the same side of the diamond, three isn’t enough? Is the range of Carlos Santana (former gold glove winner) Cesar Hernandez and Scott Kingery that bad?

And how about this hit by Joc Pederson in the loss to the Dodgers on Monday:

If Kingery is only shifting a little bit, and isn’t completely on the other side of the bag, this is a double play ground out, Seranthony Dominguez likely doesn’t have his worst outing of the season, and the Phillies potentially sweep the Dodgers.

But, no.

This is the thing that has bothered me the most with Kapler. He’s settled down with the bullpen to get it into a position where it’s doing well now with defined roles. Small hiccups like Knapp leading off aside, the lineup has settled down too without too much jockeying around. (I’d still swap Santana and Hoskins so there is a better chance of runners being on base for Hoskins, but that’s mostly nit-picky), and as I mentioned before, he’s got the team believing in itself, which is all good.

But when he digs his heels in, he really becomes an immovable object, even if there is plenty of evidence to the contrary.

I can find dozens of examples like the videos above from this season. And sure, there are times the shift works. I’m not anti-shifting. But when you’re one of only two teams in the negative on runs saved by shifting, you are either shifting at the wrong times or shifting too frequently, or over-shifting specific batters, or some combination of the three.

And the Phillies don’t seem to be trying anything different there at all.

That bugs me. And it bugs me how they spin it.

Fix the defense, fix how you present it publicly, and I can probably get on board with the manager and move forward.

Until then, I’m gonna stick by my long-existing belief that managers can’t win games, but they can certainly lose them.

In the interim, I’ll applaud Gabe for getting the team to where they are right now. I’ll give him his credit when and where it is due. But, I also won’t stop pointing out mistakes either. As Bob Wankel likes to say on our Crossed Up podcast, “If you want to hear someone always piss positive about Gabe and the Phillies, there are plenty of living, breathing smiley faces out there for you to listen to, watch and read.”

But my warning to you is that blind loyalty is a dangerous premise for sports fans. As such, you won’t find that here.

And oh yeah, you also won’t find me championing Gabe as the greatest manager of my lifetime anytime soon either.

    The post Can You Like Gabe Kapler and Not Like Him at the Same Time? appeared first on Crossing Broad.

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