#Kurt + self-assurance is my great love

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi! so far I've loved everything you've written about Kurt, Logan and Remy. 🧎🏻‍♀️

Could you write something about Kurt? where together with reader they are in the kitchen of the mansion because they can't sleep, and she finally tells him her concerns about the magnitude of her powers and Kurt with his heart of gold tells her beautiful things to calm her down and make her laugh, the rest to your imagination, I would appreciate it, you write great! Thanks 💙✨

SFW! Nightcrawler/Fem!Reader

Ok so I will admit that I made this a leeetle self indulgent. I was trying to think of a power someone could really struggle with and a fun one that I thought of was having necromancy, but having such respect for life and death that it feels wrong. I thought it would fit well with a Kurt fic because it's something that almost feels sacrilegious, and it's good to have a fuzzy blue elf assure you that you aren't a monster :) I know its def not power ambiguous, but I hope this is okay :)

Also, I know my writing style is a little different in this one, And thats because the first few paragraphs set the tone for my writing when I start and tbh I think this one just flowed from my soul to they keyboard.

TWs: nightmares, necromancy, gross descriptions of rotting flesh. Extreme self-doubt and self-consciousness. Basically angst with a happy ending.

You’ve been having nightmares again. They hardly seem to stop, but after a break in between the terror, you'd become too relaxed. Too comfortable. You felt defenseless when they started to begin again.

It’s always the same dream, different font. Bones cracking, flesh ripping as it’s forced into place, natural or not. Skin rotting off of once human bodies, sockets where eyes used to be. It was horrifying. You’d see your family, friends, acquaintances, everyone. Dead. Brought back to life by your power, the power you were still so afraid of. You were always afraid of zombie movies as a kid. Anything rising from the dead, anything breathed back to life in some sick and twisted fantasy. It was ironic that your very own strength was the thing you had always been the most afraid of.

Of course, as you aged and the professor took you in, the fear began to wear off. Mostly, it did. The professor not only taught you how to control your powers but also how to work around your fear. You can remember the confusion you felt when he had set a box of ancient bones in front of you. Fragments of titans, dinosaurs who had long since passed. Bones that would never be matched to an accurate set, parts of them being crushed to dust by the cruelty of time. Bones that only you could breathe to life, to bring them together as a whole again. It was convenient, the professor had told you, that you only needed a fragment to do so. He spoke as if it were a service to them. Most importantly, he brought you a box of bones that weren’t, and never had been, human.

He had taken the fear out of your power. Given you an option you had never considered before. Bones without flesh, without living family. Fossils that would serve you as you were serving them. You were… happy, with that. You were content. You could handle bones. You could revive these ancient skeletons without fear, and fight with them without worry. That didn’t change the horror of knowing the capacity your powers had.

    So the nightmares remained, and your sleep had become sparse.

    This particular night you were restless. Unable to sleep despite how tired you have been, but it’s hard to rest when there is only terror waiting behind your eyelids. After a while, you decide to give up trying.

The path to the kitchen is one you have memorized, even in the dark. You’ve always been told never to eat sugar before bed, but the only thing you want to comfort you at this moment is hot chocolate- so screw it.

    You try your best to be quiet while fishing out a pot out of the cabinets. The stove makes a click as you flick it on, filling the pot with milk before stirring it as it warms. The automatic task is comforting, falling into a routine you enjoy. You’ve just added the coco mix when the sound of a *Bamph* greets you.

    “Guten abend.” Kurt whispers, walking over to stand beside you. You give him a tired smile that he returns with a yawn.

    “I’m sorry if I woke you.” You say, face returning to a frown Kurt thinks you wear far too often. Maybe it’s good that he’s here because you realize you made far too much of the sweet drink than you had meant to. You get a mug for him, heart fluttering as his hand brushes your own when he takes it from you, thanking you quietly.

    “You did not wake me, Schatz. I promise.” Kurt says, pulling out a chair for you with his tail as he sits at the table. You nod silently, placing the pot in the sink and filling it with water before you join him, leaning against his shoulder.

    “Did you have another nightmare?” Kurt asks after a moment. His brows are furrowed in concern, and you fail to stop him before he takes a sip from the scalding coco, burning his tongue. He scrunches his nose as he sticks out his tongue, making you giggle for a moment. He thinks your laugh suits you much more than your frown, even if it happens to be at his expense. Your face falls slightly anyway, and he wonders if he could get you to laugh if he did it all over again.

    “...No. Not tonight.” The words come out as less than a whisper, and you doubt he might hear it if it weren’t the middle of the night. Little did you know he’d block the world out if he had to, just to hear you speak a little clearer. He hums in response, and you feel his tail slowly wrap snugly around your waist, the very tip idly stroking you in a comforting manner.

    “...Do you wish to speak about them?” Kurt asks after a moment. You huff slightly, feeling the hot steam from your mug warm your face as you do so. Still too hot, you think to yourself. Flashes of those horrid nightmares come to mind, and no matter how quickly you try to shake them off, they remain. You choose to think of Kurt instead. Sweet, kind, comforting Kurt. You want to bury yourself in his arms, sink into the feeling of his skin, and never let go, if only he would let you. He would without a second thought, if only you had known. You think carefully about your next words, and the visions of flesh and corpses hardly leave you.

    “Am I a monster, Kurt?” You hear a quiet, cut-off gasp from Kurt, and he turns to you. His face is pained, and he sets his mug down to place his hand around your own, still clasped around the hot cocoa. 

    “Of course not. Only a fool would think so.” His words, although comforting, only leave you with a worse sting in your heart. You can’t hold eye contact with him, staring at the reflection in your mug instead. Only a fool would think so. You halfway wonder if you count as a fool, then.

    “I, just… My powers, what I do. What I am capable of doing. It’s not right.” You take a shaky breath in, desperately trying not to break down here and now. “It’s disgusting. It’s horrible. Every time I find myself comfortable with myself I am reminded of what is possible and I spiral. I don’t want it. I don’t-”  

  “Liebling.” You let out a sob at the sound of his voice. Kurt is hunched over, pressing his forehead against your own as he desperately tries to catch your gaze- but you can’t. You can't bear it, and you close your eyes tightly. Kurt takes the mug from your hands. He cups your face as he wipes your tears, and you feel like even more of a monster as he does so. Sobbing as a man with a heart of gold wipes your tears away with love and care.

    “Please, look at me,” Kurt whispers. You try to stop the tears, embarrassed as you fall apart in front of the man you hold so dearly, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. Your chest stings, your throat is sore, you’re sure your nose is running, and yet he still holds you so gently. When your breathing evens out just a bit, you convince yourself to open your eyes again.

    Kurt’s gaze is simply concerned. There is no horror, no disgust, nothing but worry for you. Nothing but kindness. You wonder if you could be even half as good as he is. 

    “You are good. You are kind. You are strong enough to stand by your morals despite the nature of your powers telling you otherwise- and you have the strength to continue to use them and fight your fears anyway. You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. Do not let your nightmares tell you otherwise.” Kurt’s hold is steady against your cheeks, and your own shaky hands reach up to hold onto his wrists. You sob again as he speaks. You know. You know this. Others have told you, but these words all felt like lies. All but the ones you’re hearing from his mouth. Your tears are slowing, and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving the skin tingling. You whisper quiet apologies for crying, and he shushes each one, gently wiping your face with the soft sleeve of his pajama shirt.

  “I would not be here if I didn’t want to care for you, my love,” Kurt says softly. Your eyes widen, taken aback by his words. He called you many things. Liebling. Schatz. Love. But never my love. The words waken butterflies in your belly, and Kurt takes a moment to realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The two of you are treading a line that you both desperately want to cross. 

    Kurt is the first to lean in. He does so slowly, toeing the line between you. His gaze remains on your own as he closes the space, nose nuzzling against your own as he gives you the time to back out if you wish. But you don’t. You want nothing more than to have what he is so freely giving. 

    Kurt kisses you softly, lovingly, and for once the horrors have quieted and are cleared from your mind. All there is now is Kurt, and his soft love. He kisses you a second time before he pulls away, still as close to you as he can be without falling out of his chair. You wonder how he can see beauty where all you see is terror. He wonders if you have any clue just how much of a good person you continue to be.

    He knows he would gladly spend the rest of his life showing you.

[spaceorphan18]

Finchel, Klaine, and Polin pt. 1

Rachel, Kurt, and Penelope

This... first of all is a reply to this post :: HERE

It's a been an interesting discourse and thought experiment given by @foundfam2754 and it ended up being so long I'm at least splitting it up into two parts, and possibly three...

****

Before digging in, a couple of prefaces -- clearly, these are fictional characters written by very different people, and whose worlds just work in vastly different ways. And I think at the end of the day, this is kind of a thought experiment about how stories and characters can function in similar ways within narratives? At least that's how I'm looking at it.

Also, I'm speaking conversationally more than anything. I don't expect anyone to agree with my interpretation - and as I'm talking about fictional characters, I always like to make the disclaimer that fictional characters are always reflected by the prism of the viewer's experiences, and we all take away from stories something different.

I guess, also, it got me thinking about how similar Finn and Blaine are, and I never really thought about it (all these years later) but it's unsurprising. Ryan Murphy and Co ha(d)ve a tendency to write the same type of characters over and over, and there are a lot of similarities in the Finchel and Klaine storylines (some of it intentional, some of it not). But does make for a fascinating analysis when compared to Polin.

[This first part, though, is really about Rachel, Kurt, and Penelope -- Finn, Blaine, and Colin will be later, as well as exploring some relationship dynamic stuff.]

****

Alright, so I want to start with Penelope and her parallels with Rachel vs Kurt. It's the easier one to compare because I think Rachel and Kurt aren't that far apart from each other. Ryan Murphy and Co really only had a handful of character types -- most characters fall into a few kinds of roles, and literally everyone on the show can be filtered into one of the few.

Rachel and Kurt, are, really, almost the same character. And a lot of the traits that they share, incidentally, they also share with Penelope.

Using some of your examples -- both Rachel and Kurt have been ignored for most of their life. Both have been bullied for being different, and for not fitting into what society deems is worthy. Both have very few people who truly understand them, or even notice them - and their qualities of goodness. Both have had to claw their way to being seen, and at some personal risk.

And I think (show) Penelope shares ALL of that with them.

Kurt and Rachel both, also, have a bit of a dark streak. They can both be divas at times. They can both be sharp and cutting with their words and actions. And, honestly, so can Penelope.

(All of them, also, have an interest and fascination with gossip, which is a funny aside.)

And then there's the point about insecurities. And, I feel like I need more time to think on this. All three of them are socially awkward. All three of them are also self-assured and well grounded within themselves. And all three of them do have insecurities, but I do think it's all in different ways. (But I may need more time to expand on that).

There is one huge, fundamental difference between Rachel and Kurt, though. I don't even mean this in a derogatory way but, Rachel is more selfish, more ambitious, and more willing to sacrifice everything to gain her goals in life. (And thus, often succeeds at being at the top.) Kurt, meanwhile, will always put those he loves first, even at great personal sacrifice. Kurt has an empathy that Rachel often lacks. And while I think that Penelope might land a little in between the two, I do think she does lean on the Kurt side, as she is softer and more caring than Rachel often is.

Then there's how they love. And it's interesting where you write that Rachel wants to be wanted while Penelope wants to be loved. And I do agree with you - but it's interesting that I think how they want to be wanted and/or loved is different. (Because I think Penelope and Kurt love similarly over Rachel)

Rachel and Kurt both crave feeling loved, because both think that they're undeserving of it for various reasons. (And, weirdly, I don't think Penelope believes she's undeserving of it - I think she believes she just won't get it from the source of where she wants it from, which is similar to both Rachel and Kurt but yeah nuance differences there.)

and... It's kind of funny that both Rachel and Kurt both fall for Finn (!!) for similar reasons -- it's a hero worship. It's this belief that Finn is going to give them the love they want and desire but feel is ultimately out of their reach. And yeah, I can see Penelope starting her crush in the same way -- that Colin is someone who was kind to her, who was nice in a world that isn't nice, that seems to look past the weirdness and oddity and the taboo and is like - I like you.

And that's such a powerful thing!

(As an aside, Kurt is going to do this same thing with Blaine.)

The thing that I really want to get into, though, and I'm going to just tease here because I'll probably get into it in a future part -- I think while Klaine, Finchel, and Polin may start out in similar places I think Klaine and Polin have something Finchel doesn't necessarily have -- a foundation of a very solid friendship.

And, again, I'll get into this with a later portion, but I realize this might where we really start to disagree. Because I think Finchel is a relationship that is meaningful for Finn and Rachel while in high school, while they're young and figuring themselves out, but it never progresses to an adult relationship. But, I mean, I also think that Jesse and Rachel are the better match. I think they like and understand each other on a more fundamental level, and they make more sense to me as a couple than Finn and Rachel.

(So while I think Jesse is nothing like Colin (omg that thought is making me laugh) I do think (for me) St. Berry's relationship dynamics are more align with Klaine and Polin -- but again, I'll get way more into that later.)

Anyway, a few more Rachel, Kurt, and Penelope things...

I think all three of them love and feel very deeply. Rachel wears her emotions on her sleeve. Kurt buries them deep and keeps them very protected. Again, I think Penelope ends up a little inbetween -- she exclaims you should declare how you feel fervently and loudly. But she also protects her heart, and keeps her feelings buried, and she's very protective over those she loves.

I think Kurt and Penelope are more so old school romantics. Rachel enjoys romance but is much flashier and gaudier about it.

One of the big things, though, that Rachel and Penelope have in common that Kurt just doesn't --- Rachel and Penelope are women. And there are struggles there Kurt's just not going to get.

Okay, so a quick note about Book Penelope who is... different. She's older -- and perhaps wiser and calmer. She's also softer and kinder. Despite being Whistledown for all those years, she doesn't have the darker edges that show Penelope has (which is more akin to Kurt and Rachel). If anyone, she's a lot more like Mercedes -- but Mercedes wouldn't bother with wasting her time being in love with anyone for fifteen years.

So yeah, I'm going to stop here for now. :)

[seblaineaddict]

You Kissed My Flaws...& Made Them Perfect

In a world where every single person has a Soulmate bearing their identical Soulmark and is bound by law to pursue a life with their Soulmate once located, Sebastian and Blaine are gay as a rainbow men from very different countries, who have never met....yet.

Sebastian Smythe is a charming, devilishly handsome (and doesn't he know it!) 30 year-old commitment-phobe still living in his native Paris, where he is an LGBTQ+ Rights Lawyer. He is highly promiscuous, enjoys the finer things in life, especially very expensive Wines and Spirits and First Edition Science Fiction novels, comes from old and new money, and is a bit of a risk taker, to boot.

As far as his 'love life' goes, he pretty exclusively prefers hookups and shuns anything serious, to which end he has never sought out his Soulmate. He really doesn’t see the point, is 100% against people being forced into 'unnatural' liaisons with someone they have never met, just because they share some unremovable (believe me he has tried to remove it - many times!) permanent Body Art that's branded into their skin.. somewhere...on their bodies, and he is determined to challenge, then ultimately overthrow, the Law that decrees you will become bound to your Soulmate from the very second you locate them.

29 year-old jaded (hopeless!) romantic Blaine Anderson is an equally gorgeous (though with a much more dapper and sweet side) Broadway star who lives in Upper Manhattan, New York, and is currently playing Elder Cunningham in The Book Of Mormon. He has had a similarly privileged upbringing to Sebastian, albeit in the US, and is not in the best place in himself. when our story begins

He (spectacularly!) failed to find his Soulmate after a long, long, long and arduous quest to do so, then gave up on men completely after his Fiancé Kurt, with whom he shared a tumultuous, unequal and in truth pretty freaking toxic six year long relationship, finally broke off their engagement. His heart is bruised and battered, and his self-esteem is in tatters, after Kurt slowly but surely eroded the very essence of Blaine and dulled the shine of everything about him that made him so unique and so vibrant….

...then fucked Blaine's co-star and ran off into the sunset with him…

What will happen when (via Grindr - of course!) these two polar opposites discover they are intrinsically and irreversibly linked? Can twin flames bound by law to meet, then pursue a life together, no matter how much the Fates seem to be weighted against them, make a go of things without killing each other in the process? Can an arranged (by law!) relationship ultimately beat the odds and lead to a happy ever after?

Well..you're going to have to read their story to find that out, but rest assured it will not be short on drama, heartache, pining, Angst, laughter, happiness, many hilarious and absolutely NOT so hilarious misunderstandings, and of course…a great deal of good old fashioned…

…hot sex! Oh, yes, and romance and Love of course, too! 😏😉

The unexpected news is - this is actually going to be turned into a fic! Yes..despite still having been unable to update my three ongoing Longfics, due to my increased commitments, I sat down last night to write a short bio to accompany this graphic, and..it took on arms and legs. So yes. A fic it shall become. Either a One-Shot or at most four chapters, but definitely a fic. Soon... And now that I have managed to make time to write, I'm determined to update my other three fics by New Year's Eve! 

Wishing everyone a fantastic 10 Days Of Seblaine, and also an amazing 12th (ahhhhh!) Seblainiversary on 8th November!

10 Days Of Seblaine 2023

6th November 2023 : Day 1: Soulmates/Soulmarks

@seblaineworld

[vcg73]

Witch!Kurt #28: Kurt’s Turn

I second guessed the song choice a lot, but it was meant to be something Kurt would never choose for himself so I went ahead with it.

Friday afternoon tech was a study in organized chaos. Actors old and young had arrived in the large auditorium, only to find themselves pushed and pulled all over the stage as prop masters, set designers, costumers, and lighting techs from across the student body of NYADA swarmed over them, measuring and marking. Kurt himself was everywhere at once, guiding the action, issuing direction and answering questions with a level of ease and self-assurance that would have shocked most of his high school teachers, but virtually none of his peers.  He was in his element and this project was his baby.  Kurt had mapped everything out inside his mind so many times that he knew exactly what he needed from every single person.  

 Far from being hesitant to follow these directions, the other students were pleased to have such a steady hand on the wheel. Kurt asked nothing of his crew that he was not willing to do himself and it was clear as the day progressed that unlike with many other student projects, Kurt knew when to take control and when to back off and let an expert handle things. What’s more, he gave credit and praise where it was due as he wove and danced among the crowd. He had also made up a mock Playbill for the production that included the name and department of every single individual who had helped him bring his vision to life, much to the crew’s appreciation.

 Everyone worked like a colony of busy bees to transform Kurt’s white-boarded directions into a working production, nodding and muttering among themselves as they jotted down notes and checked things off the master task list. The world of ‘The Real Housewives of Albany’ began to materialize around them, spreading to fill the large staging area more smoothly than anyone had rightfully expected.

 Out of deference to his cast of senior citizens, Kurt had tried to keep the staging modifications to a minimum, taking up some of the extra space with a collection of vintage furniture from the prop building, but the veterans proved to be troopers who loved every minute of the preparation, happily offering suggestions and encouragement wherever they could. Andy Collins was in his element, full of smiles and compliments, flirting with anyone who stood still long enough. Maggie Banks was like a tiny drill sergeant, barking orders to her fellow Lexington residents and passing along Kurt’s instructions to the rest with brisk efficiency. Mary Ellen Kaufman and Kate Woodrow, playing Maggie’s two sisters, both had limited mobility but excellent memories and they cheerfully pitched in wherever they could help.  

 As Kurt had feared, a high speed storm out was beyond Mary Ellen’s physical capabilities, but then he had an idea, suggesting that after the big argument in Act 1, she and her son – played by one of the Apples – should dramatically exit to the left as he pushed her wheelchair off the stage, while Mary Ellen went to the right using a walker.  As soon as they had tested this idea, Kurt knew it was a keeper. The ‘dramatic’ exit took almost a full minute as the eighty-five year old shuffled her way across the large stage with an attitude that could have put Rachel Berry’s best diva antics to shame and every crawling second just made the scene funnier. By the time she made it all the way past the curtain, the student actors and techs were almost in tears trying to stifle their laughter.

 By the end of the day, everyone was tired but elated. They had only the full dress rehearsal to get through on Monday and then another day to make any necessary last-minute adjustments and it would be show time. It was nerve-wracking, but at the same time deeply satisfying. Even if the dress rehearsal fell apart in chaos, he could feel it in his bones that the final production would be a huge success.  Everything had come together like magic today and he hadn’t even used any of the real stuff!

 NYADA projects were fully expected to take months to develop. It was more usual than not for a student to keep adding, changing and revising their work right up to the deadline of the last two weeks of the school year. This inevitably led to a certain amount of procrastination, a few emotional breakdowns, more than one outright failure, and a lot of competition for venues and attendance.  

 As a junior, Kurt had been required to complete a work-study, spending a minimum of 80 hours with one or more willing theater veterans, learning from their experience. The next step had been to show what that internship had taught him, using what he had learned from his mentor(s) to complement the skills he was learning at NYADA and then parlay that valuable combination into a presentable work of his own. That Kurt had managed to get a fully fledged original musical ready to stage by the first of February was practically unheard of and knowing that gave him some doubts. Would he be one of the over-ambitious failures? Was he rushing things? But another part of him, the side of Kurt that had always been secure in his own style and confident in his own talent no matter how many nay-sayers he encountered, knew that he was ready.  

He had first conceived the idea last year, after meeting Maggie and co-starring in her production of “Peter Pan” at the retirement home and he had been working on the project in his own time long before it came time to turn in his proposal to the faculty.  The “Old Housewives” story was already sketched out and the songs half-written by the time he approached Dean Tibideaux for permission to do his junior work-study with the actors at the Lexington Home for Retired Performers, knowing that his particular idea would require some licensing permissions from the owners of the various Housewives television programs. Fortunately, a request from the prestigious New York Academy of Dramatic Art was not unusual, even in Hollywood circles and the permissions had been granted in plenty of time for Kurt to proceed.

 Too much revising and second-guessing at this stage would only be a detriment. Kurt’s fellow actors and stage-crew knew the show as well as he did by now and it would not be fair to start tweaking everything just because he was starting to get a little nervous about the approaching performance. 

Adam, having been through his own first staging at NYADA nearly four years ago, agreed with this and advised Kurt to put the show away for the weekend and concentrate on other things.

 “I didn’t follow my own good advice at all,” he admitted when Kurt questioned the self-deprecating shake of the head that had accompanied this suggestion. “In fact, I was a right fool. I had done my junior work-study with Michael Foster Pellam and I was so sure that I was meant to follow in his hallowed footsteps that I conceived the brilliant plan of performing a one-man medley of the Bard’s greatest soliloquies.”

 “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Kurt said. “I’ve heard you recite Shakespeare a few times and you’re amazing at it.”

 Adam smiled warmly. “Well, you may be a bit biased on my behalf.  I will concede that I’m a decent actor, though composing and stage-craft are my real loves, but while I may not have been as full of myself as most of the young divas who grow like weeds in the NYADA fertilizer, I was absolutely certain that I could handle this task with no difficulty. After all, was I not an Englishman born and bred? Was I not the grandson of the great June Dolloway?” He struck a dramatic pose with one hand clutched to his chest, making the other two laugh. Adam grinned and shook his head. “Gran was a lauded actress in her day, before she retired from performing to built up her talent agency with my grandfather and I was convinced in all my not-quite-21-year-old arrogance that I had inherited the entire crop of apples from that particular tree.”

 Kurt laughed at his rueful sarcasm. “Something tells me that the one-man Shakespearen extravaganza didn’t go too well.”

 “And you would be correct. I had declined all help and suggestions from my friends and had worked myself down to a frazzled nub the week before I was to go on. I rarely ate, hardly slept and must have changed my mind about the speeches I wanted to perform at least a dozen times. I kept deciding it was perfect, then recalling a different one that I was sure would impress Professors Utley, Cameron, and Kurtz far more than what I had already chosen. Finally, on the day of my performance, I went out thinking I had everything in order.”

 Already cringing in sympathy with the younger version of his beloved, Kurt asked, “What happened?”

 “To begin, I had been so neglectful with my eating habits during the last month of the school year that I had managed to lose nearly a stone, but hadn’t considered that my costume would need to be taken in accordingly, so I looked rather like I’d been raiding my dad’s closet. Assuming that he owned a doublet.”

 “Doesn’t everyone?” Kurt said, batting his eyes and drawing a chuckle.

 “Plus I was so frazzled from forty-eight hours with no sleep that I had entered something of a fugue state.  I started off reciting a passage from “As You Like It” and without quite realizing it, I segued into an unrelated piece from “The Merry Wives of Windsor”. Then suddenly I realized that I was giving the wrong soliloquy and forgot my lines. I just stood there like an absolute git for a good thirty seconds before Professor Utley gave me a cue so I could begin the next piece. It was the classic ‘to be, or not to be’ soliloquy from “Hamlet” and that went reasonably well. I’d even venture to say that my haggard state helped me to do an unusually convincing job of it, until I reached the line ‘to sleep – perchance to dream: aye there’s the rub’ and fell prey to the power of suggestion, whereupon I yawned like a great gaping beast and set off the entire judging panel, which got me started laughing. And as you may recall, that piece isn’t exactly meant to be giggled through.”

 By now, Kurt was doing some giggling himself, though he tried to hide it. “Oh, poor baby Adam. You must have been so embarrassed.”

 “I was, but fortunately I was able to pick it up and finish before I could forget the rest of my performance. And as I had got all the way through it, however butchered it may have been, I at least had no worries about receiving an incomplete. Not surprisingly, I did not receive the best marks in my class that year, but to my good fortune one of the ballet dancers tripped over her toe shoes and fell off the stage into the orchestra pit that same grading period. Her broken leg saved my sorry arse and I did not receive the lowest marks either. Combined with my mostly excellent work over the rest of the year, I managed to successfully pass into senior year, but I did so with a slightly tarnished reputation and a sadder and wiser heart.”

 Kurt smiled, half suspecting the story to be fiction but appreciating it nonetheless. “So, what you’re getting at is that I shouldn’t over-think my show next week?  That I should get some rest this weekend and start fresh next week?”

 Adam beamed at him. “Precisely! It’s brilliant just the way it is and your entire team is ready to go. You’ll relax and concentrate on other matters this weekend then have your final rehearsal on Monday and sail through in Bristol fashion on Wednesday.”

 The perfectionist side of Kurt was tempted to argue, but he knew that Adam was right. The show was something to be proud of and he had worked hard to make it so. “Okay, you win. What do you say we work on our wedding plans instead?”

 “Love to,” he agreed, “but first, how about I get you off to a good start with some of that helpful distraction, eh?”  He hitched his blond brows playfully and ‘attacked’ Kurt with a tight hug and a kiss that made his toes curl.  

 ~*~*~*~*~

 With his fiancé’s advice in mind, Kurt spent the weekend finishing up his contribution to Isabelle’s upcoming Spring Showcase, working on the Mid-Winter Critique that was scheduled to be performed just two days after his show, and writing his wedding vows. That last ‘chore’ was the most rewarding and most difficult. The ceremony at the courthouse would be a simple civil service, exchanging rings and pledging “I Do’s” before a judge and their small party of witnesses, then going on to the reception. But from what Elliott had been telling him, the earlier rite with his coven would be a spiritual ceremony that would require a more formal and heartfelt exchange. For that, he wanted his words to be perfect.  

 Speaking of words, Kurt could not help but smile as he looked over the song that Adam had told him had been a gift from Lord Tubbington.  Adam was to be starting his new job at the tea shop tomorrow and had decided that the occasion warranted a new shirt. Since he was feeling good today, he’d asked Elliott to give him both a lift and a second opinion on whatever he ended up choosing. Afterward, he had got them both an invitation to jam with the Apples. Elliott did not attend their school, but any friend of Adam and Kurt’s was a friend of theirs, to the group’s eyes. Not coincidentally, this day out would give Kurt a few hours of privacy.  He was far from shy when it came to performing, but he hated being listened to when he was picking his way through an unfamiliar song and Adam knew that.  It still caused Kurt to marvel sometimes that his fiancé could be so casually accepting of such simple concepts as the need for a little personal space, after Blaine had always made him feel like he was committing a felony if he wanted time alone.

 Flipping the sheet music, Kurt idly wondered what had made Tubbington buy this piece. The cat was correct in his belief that Kurt was not a fan of country music. Living in a small Ohio town with more than its share of rednecks, it had been tough to escape from country and southern rock. To a young Kurt, constantly ribbed if not outright mocked for the Broadway tunes and power pop ballads that he personally preferred, that music had felt like an anthem to the intolerance that people like him were forced to endure on a daily basis. 

However, as he softly hummed the tune while sight-reading the notes, this song began to appeal to him. It had come out before he was born, but the song had enjoyed a long shelf life and still popped up frequently at weddings and dances. Often enough, in fact, to make it feel a bit too cliché to include in his and Adam’s own wedding reception. But as a stand-alone piece for the Mid-Winter Critique, it might do very nicely. A bit simplistic by NYADA standards and there was a chance he would be docked a few points for that, but it was still a solid song that had good potential.

 All he would need to do was slow the arrangement, perhaps drop most of the instrumentation and play it as a piano solo while he sang. He was no maestro, but Kurt wasn’t half bad on piano and he had never demonstrated that particular skill at school. He knew that Carmen didn’t always like the ‘distracting’ dancing and props that he enjoyed, he’d had past notes telling him so, so she would probably appreciate a simple performance as long as he put heart and a decent amount of technique into this.

 Turning back to the first page, he began to sing out loud.

 “Our love is unconditional. We knew it from the start. I can see it in your eyes. You can feel it from my heart. From here on after, let’s stay the way we are right now. And share the love and laughter, that a lifetime will allow.”

 A lifetime with someone you loved could be as short as a few years, or even a few months. Kurt hoped and even prayed though he could not have said to whom, that this time his life with Adam would last a lot longer.

 “I cross my heart, and promise to, give all I’ve got to give, to make all your dreams come true. In all the world, you’ll never find, a love as true as mine.”

 He would have to remember to thank LT for bringing him this music the next time he saw him. Country song or not, the lyrics spoke to him.  

 “You will always be the miracle, that makes my life complete. As long as there’s a breath in me, I’ll make yours just as sweet. As we look into the future, it’s as far as we can see. So let’s make each tomorrow, be the best that it can be.”

 Finding himself unexpectedly tearing up, he let the music trail away. Adam’s unwavering love and trust were a kind of miracle. As was his endless patience, particularly back when they first dated and Kurt was struggling to let go of a love that had pierced and twisted itself around his heart like barbed wire, holding him in a painful, still-bleeding grip that he had been too afraid of causing deeper pain to let go of once and for all. 

Adam had given Kurt a new dream, a new reason to trust and the courage to start over again. Even after Blaine’s self-serving menace had cost Adam everything, somehow that beautiful soul had survived and kept faith. Today he continued to love Kurt as truly and deeply as any human being could. He had held on to the promise of a better happier future together and now that future was within their grasp.

 Wiping his eyes, Kurt closed the music sheets before picking the booklet up and moving to the center of the room.  Looking around the empty loft, Kurt’s eyes traveled the large space, pausing at the spot that had been the center of his coven’s warding circle on the day he had first learned of his newly realized Potential. His perusal continued slowly across furniture, pictures, little pieces of a happy life that had transformed the loft into a true home. 

The deep armchair that Adam’s dad had Transported all the way from the Crawford family home in Essex, to help his recovering son be comfortable during his recovery.  Dani’s red bean-bag chair in the corner; a place to flop down with her guitar and strum while the gang hung out and talked. That odd mosaic-tiled floor lamp that Brittany had made and been so very proud to give them in place of a crappy IKEA lamp that Blaine had left behind.  The sectional sofa that Tubbington had nicknamed “The Accordion” after Johnny, Kurt and Elliott had manhandled it into the apartment to replace the old one that had held too many bad memories of the past. 

So many changes. So many things that somehow belonged together, no matter how odd or different they might look from the outside. Kurt and Rachel had cohabitated this space, with Santana, Brody, Blaine and Sam coming and going as they pleased; and Kurt had lived more or less harmoniously with all of them, but there had always been a sense of ‘Mine’ and ‘Yours’ about everything here. Kurt had felt the need to fiercely protect his individuality, as represented by his furniture and decorations. As if letting go of even one of those visual representations of his presence would be to erase him.  

It had not been a conscious act but looking back, Kurt knew that had felt defensive and on edge most of that time. He had never felt appreciated, or even particularly welcome in his own home. The more the others seemed to be pushing him out, or treating him like a servant who had no real place of his own, the more stubbornly he clung to this apartment’s visual identity; to the proof that Kurt Hummel was here and he would not be erased.  

 He smiled, shaking his head. How strange it seemed now.  Everything in this loft, from the furniture, to the mismatched assembly of coats and hats constantly decorating the rack by the door, was now a study in willing compromise. And somehow, everything fit together and worked together just as the coven did. Just as he and Adam did.

 Drawing a deep breath, Kurt let it out slowly, finding his center and drawing the magic to him. He remembered the first time he had done this, when he had held on to the magic, afraid to let to go even when it started to feel painfully overwhelming because he feared he would never be able to feel that way again. Dani had advised him to let go, assuring him that the power would always be inside him. And Kurt had not questioned her, or Brittany, or any of the others. For the first few weeks of training as a witch, he had somehow given them his trust with little hesitation, allowing them to guide and protect and occasionally correct him when he needed it.  

 But when Adam had returned from the Void and Kurt had learned just how badly Blaine had mistreated them both, he had withdrawn into the safety of his own space.  Without even realizing it, he had starting shutting everyone else out. Even Adam and Elliott had been shut out to a degree. Kurt had used the need to protect Adam in his painfully vulnerable state to push them all away. The reminder of Blaine and how easily trust could be turned against him had brought Kurt’s protective walls slamming shut around him. The rigid control of his emotions and distractions of his all too busy life had given him a reason to avoid using all but the most rudimentary magic. Because if he used the magic, if he let the power inside him grow and develop, then he would have to reopen that channel that had formed between himself and his coven.

 It was a chasm that Kurt had not been able to bridge, or even to see, for a few weeks. He had been frustrated that the coven seemed to expect so much from him, annoyed that they weren’t being open with him, hurt that they seemed to be excluding him from discussions; but he had been doing the exact same thing to them. He had seen how thrilled they all were to revive the bonds of friendship and togetherness. Had felt the rightness, of putting the puzzle pieces together into a coherent picture, that had filled him repeatedly during the recent blizzard weekend that they had all spent together.  

 Friday at school, working with so many different people from different departments, majors, and even generations, trusting each person to contribute to the production as a whole, Kurt had finally seen what should have been obvious the entire time. He had had faith in all of those people to do right by him. He had given his trust that they would be up to the challenge and bring all the individual pieces together into a satisfying whole, and they had responded with enthusiasm and enjoyment, giving their best in return. 

Working on his Finals project had been such a fitting analogy for his life as a coven leader that he felt stupid for not making the connection earlier.

 Trust was hard. It always had been, ever since Kurt was a little boy who had trusted doctors and nurses to perform a miracle that could not be delivered. He had trusted his dad to always be there for him and that had been let down painfully, though that relationship was finally being rebuilt. He had trusted his friends to be as much in his corner as he was in theirs and they let him down repeatedly; something that could not be entirely attributed to Blaine’s interference. He had trusted adults in authority, only to be disappointed by their narrow minds and uncaring attitudes. He had trusted his loving heart to someone who had treated it like an emotional raquet-ball.  

 Somewhere in the middle of all that, he had stopped trusting himself.

 It was time for that to change. Kurt had put his faith in Adam and allowed that healing love to mend his broken heart. He had put down tenuous roots with his band and they had bloomed into something bigger and better than he had ever dreamed of. He had taken a chance on Brittany Pierce and Lord Tubbington the day they had proven to be anything but “fair weather” friends and received a gift beyond his wildest imagining.  And now he was starting to exercise confidence again, taking charge of his working life, his school life and the training of his powers that would help him thrive in his magical life.

 But before he could truly be a leader, before he could move forward and conquer his fears and his past in the person of his ex, Kurt had to believe in himself. The coven was constantly reinforcing the need to be comfortable with his magic and to practice his fine control.  Kurt knew he needed to do that without anyone else around to catch him if he stumbled.

 Taking another deep breath, he found the magic and willed it to grow.  He turned toward the mirror and blinked his Sight to life. Seeing the aura flash bright and blinding, he smiled, realizing it had been a long time since he actually looked at himself this way and appreciated what it meant. Magical auras did not reflect the way regular light did, but Brittany had very seriously explained to him one day about how fairy tales with magic mirrors in them were about witches who had infused their regular looking glasses with magic, and that real witches could do the same thing. 

Kurt had spent a lot of time in front of this mirror when he was making new outfits, primping over his hair, and perhaps most importantly, while practicing his singing and doing good-luck rituals during his father’s cancer battle. All of those things had infused the glass with his personal magical signature, long before he was consciously aware that he could do such a thing. It was the reason he could See his own magical Potential/Power in this glass and not in others, which had confused him when he first started looking at the world through the eyes of witchcraft.  

 Leaving the Sight on, he turned it inward and found the connection to his coven, allowing that feeling to drift outward along the strings of power he shared with Adam, Elliott, Dani, Monica, Johnny, Tubbington, Brittany and Santana, and giving the strings a soft ‘pluck’ that immediately resonated back with a startled alertness as they each recognized his call. Kurt willed a sensation of calm back, reassuring everyone that he was just practicing and not calling for help. A less defined sensation of approval and warmth came to Kurt as he lightly withdrew the connections. It had not been quite like the emotional bond he shared with Adam, or the Witch-Familiar bond he felt with Elliott. More like the tap of a shoulder or wave of the hand. Just a way to say hello. It was heartening to realize that the others had recognized it as such.  

 Next, Kurt opened his eyes and willed away the Sight, but kept his inner focus and picked out the voices of his personal ‘choir’. Watching in the mirror, he rapidly changed outfits a half dozen times. For some reason, doing it all at once was still much easier than willing a particular piece off or on, but he resolved to find a few minutes to practice each day until he became equally adept at both. His lips twitched as he recalled just how much Adam liked his magical strip-teasing. Perhaps it would not be difficult to get in some practice at that.

 With that happy thought in mind, Kurt deliberately levitated himself a few inches off the floor, holding himself there until his uncertain balance became rock-steady. He tried swinging his arms, high-kicking, dancing on air, just to see if he could maintain his position. This had varying results. The arms did not seem to have a detrimental effect on his concentration. He was even able to telekinetically fetch the matched pair of sai from his trunk in the bedroom and twirl them without setting foot on the ground, but for some reason if he moved his feet too much, he flailed and stumbled like a drunk. The high kick failed his levitation entirely and landed him flat on his back in the middle of the hardwood floor. Repeatedly.  

 Finally deciding that he needed to put that particular trick off until he had a nice thick practice mat handy, Kurt rubbed his sore behind and re-centered himself back into a steady float. This time he levitated the sheet music up with him, using a flick of his finger to turn the pages as he studied the notes and memorized the words.  It was difficult but not impossible to manage both at the same time, so he kept going as he began to sing. Elliott and Dani had taught him months ago to separate singing for fun from singing a spell and in fact he had avoided using incantations for all but the most rudimentary magic, but Kurt knew that it was vital to become at ease with magical multi-tasking.  He had to believe that he could blend his magical talents as harmoniously as he did his musical ones.

 This was no different than managing a stage full of costumers, actors and lighting techs. The moving parts were different, but the skill needed to make every element mesh and work together should be the same. Like singing, dancing and acting all at the same time. He had been able to do that since he first played a tiny Oompa Loompa in a Lima Community Theater version of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory” when he was five.  It was just a matter of making it all flow. He knew how each individual skill worked. He just needed to figure out how to blend everything into a workable performance.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 When Adam and Elliott came home at five o’clock, bearing take-out from the best Chinese restaurant in Brooklyn, they were both shocked at what they saw. Kurt was stretched out on the sofa, limbs sprawled, mouth wide open in a none-too-gentle snore, his hair and t-shirt both crusted with dried perspiration. The floor of the living room was littered with sheet-music, swords, discarded clothing and a half-scorched end table.

 “Why do I have a feeling we missed a great party?” Elliott asked, pointed eyebrows twitching with amusement as he lifted an abandoned pair of boxer-briefs by the waistband with one outstretched finger.

 Adam was more concerned with the fact that their less than quiet entrance had not disturbed Kurt’s nap. He gently shook his shoulder. “Kurt? Darling? Are you all right?”

 The bag of Chinese food in his other hand was only a few inches from Kurt’s face and his eyes blinked open as he ended one snoring breath on a sharp snort. “Huh? Oh, food,” he moaned, licking his lips as he sat up and wiped a trace of drool off his cheek. He captured the bag and scooped out a box of steaming pork fried rice and a pair of chopsticks, sailing in with enough enthusiasm to do Lord Tubbington proud.

 Adam and Elliott looked at one another in surprise. It wasn’t like Kurt to begin scarfing down his dinner without so much as a proper hello.

 Apparently Kurt realized this too after the initial rush of starvation was satisfied. He looked up at the puzzled duo and blushed, reluctantly setting down the box and utensils as he stood up and gave Adam a kiss on the cheek. “Uh, hi. Sorry. Guess I overdid the magic practice today. I forgot how much it can take out of a person. Did you guys have a nice day out?”

 Realizing that Kurt had simply gotten overenthusiastic and worn himself out, not to mention seriously revved up his appetite, the others relaxed. “Yeah, it was good. I felt mostly calm today,” Adam agreed. “Got a couple of new shirts you’ll probably like. I have my doubts about one of them, but Elliott thinks it’s posh so I took his word. We had a good session with the Adam’s Apples too.”

 “They’re a really cool group,” Elliott said, helpfully picking up the abandoned sai and scattered papers. “I liked ‘em a lot. Talented too. So, uh . . . I felt you reach out this morning. Seemed like you were okay, but now I’m wondering if we should have come back earlier.”

 Kurt looked at the floor and his face flushed for a second time. “Aw, crap, I meant to clean all of that up before you got home. I was just practicing. I wanted to see if I could still access that spider web of power that I touched the first day, when you all warded my apartment. Remember?”

 He smiled fondly. “Yeah. That was a great day.”

 “I thought so too, and it occurred to me that it’s been a long time since I let myself enjoy the magic and trust the connection I have with you guys to keep my power steady. When I reached out to you, I just wanted to see if the web was still there. It didn’t occur to me until l started to feel really fried that I could probably pull a tiny bit of backup power from you guys that way. Didn’t want to do it until I made sure it was okay, though.”

 Waving away his hasty reassurance, Elliott said, “Of course it is. You’re the coven leader, it’s your right to use the connection when you need it. We all agreed to that the day we set it up.”

 “Oh, well that’s good,” he said a trifle awkwardly, “but I didn’t want to just take without asking. Especially since I didn’t exactly need it. I was just playing. Holding myself in mid-air while using my other powers to move stuff, change clothes, control a fireball, practice singing and . . . singing.”

 From the emphasis, the other two men understood just what he meant. “So you did a bit of mixing and matching of power,” Adam said, moving to the remains of the table and giving the pieces a little nudge with the toe of his shoe. “Looks like this one got away from you.”

 Kurt’s nose wrinkled. “I got overconfident. I was already tired and having trouble holding my balance when I tried making a fireball. I dropped down suddenly and I automatically put out a hand to catch myself and I, well . . .”

 “Murdered a poor defenseless table,” Elliott concluded with a laugh. “At least you picked the ugly one.”

 “I snuffed it out just as fast,” Kurt said a bit defensively.  “It didn’t even set off the smoke alarm. I was going to clean it all up, but then I sat down to take a breather.”

 Adam chuckled and kissed his pouting lips. “And thus the spectacular nasal symphony we walked in on.”

 Horrified, Kurt said, “I was snoring?”

 “Your dad would’ve been proud,” Elliott told him cheerfully. “Good work on the magic, though. Seriously.”

 Side-eyeing him, Kurt began to help clean up the mess. There was no crack in Elliott’s proud smile and Adam looked equally pleased as he moved to the kitchen to get out a few plates and start dishing up the food. “I agree, that’s really quite remarkable considering how uncomfortable you felt combining your magic only a short while ago.”

 Kurt’s tense posture relaxed as Elliott helpfully winked out with the damaged table and then back in a moment later, dusting off his hands. Clearly he had removed the evidence to some handy trash bin. Carrying his scattered possessions back to the bedroom and putting them away, Kurt smiled. He had been afraid the others might think it silly if they found out what he had been doing, but apparently they were more than fine with it, since he hadn’t done any real damage.

 As he came back into the room, keeping one new outfit of clean underwear, lounge pants and sweater, to put on after he grabbed a quick shower, he said, “Thanks for not getting mad about the fire. I really thought I’d be able to control it. Most everything else went great.”

 “You didn’t do any lasting harm and I have to trust you to discover and understand your own limits, just as only you can decide when you’re comfortable with your powers,” Adam said simply.  “Of course, I’d have felt differently if you’d burned the building down, but you didn’t. You kept enough awareness of your surroundings to immediately douse the fire once it started, even in a moment of panic.”

 His nose wrinkled. “You felt that, huh?”

 “I did, but it was only a few seconds,” he admitted. “You’ve trusted me enough to not come charging in like the cavalry every time you felt a surge of panic on my part, and Lord knows there’ve been enough of those, so I had to give you the same courtesy. Believe me when I say I would have been here in a heartbeat if you hadn’t calmed so quickly, though.”

 “That’s good to know,” Kurt told him with a fond smile. “I suppose that’s part of the reason I was confident enough to try it, though, knowing that it was just a matter of reaching out for help and you guys would be here.”

 Elliott patted him on the back. “I’m glad you know that. Glad you’ve been practicing on your own too. It’s good for you and good for us.”

 “I trust you,” he said, knowing how much more complicated that admission was than it sounded and feeling happy as he realized once again that it was completely true.

 Elliott seemed to know exactly what he was not saying, though, for he winked and said, “Good. Now, go take a shower before you drive us back out of the apartment.”

 “I’m not that bad!”

 He smiled and popped an egg roll into his mouth. “You’re the one who was so overpowered he passed out on the sofa.”

 “I was tired!”

 “Go, love.  We’ll keep it all warm for you.  I’ll make sure Elliott doesn’t take all the sweet and sour,” Adam said, refocusing Kurt’s attention back to his empty stomach, which immediately growled in agreement with this.

 Pointing a finger at his grinning Familiar, Kurt said, “You’d better not.”

 He waved a dismissive hand. “Go on. Hurry, though, or I won’t side with you in making Adam put on a fashion show for us after dinner.”

 Kurt perked up at once. He did love a good fashion show.  “Be right back!”

 As he strode toward the bathroom, Kurt could not stop smiling. The ongoing cheerful banter between his fiancé and best friend sent a warm feeling through him. The two had become good friends in their own right in the months since Adam’s return. Practically like brothers. Hearing them reinforced the certainty Kurt had felt earlier today. They were so sure, so confident in each other and in him. Even Adam, who had been through so much in the past couple of years, trusted whole-heartedly in Kurt and in the coven he had built around them.

 For the first time in far too long, Kurt had a great feeling of confidence about the future. There would be failures and upsets, and not everything would go his way. He would experience disappointment and there would be some losses. That was just life, unfortunately.  But there would be many good things too and good people to share them with. It was important to appreciate the positives and not let fear of what might be overcome his ability to trust.

 As he paused in the doorway, watching them playfully fight over possession of a dish of spicy beef, Kurt smiled. A half-forgotten daydream of bright blazing lights flickered through his memory, and with it the recollection of a fabulously fuck-you outfit and a soul cleansing song and dance performed by a teenager who had feared he would never find anyone to appreciate his true self.  It had taken a few years longer than he had initially hoped, but it looked as if the wish of that sadly hopeful boy had finally come true.

 “Everything’s coming up Hummel,” he sang, so softly that the notes went unnoticed by the other men. Watching them a moment longer, Kurt deliberately sent a quick pulse of affection down the web of his connection to the coven, then smiled and continued on his way.

 THE END

 A/N: Kurt’s song was “I Cross My Heart”.  

[redheadgleekfic]

these inconvenient fireworks - chapter 7

Title: these inconvenient fireworks Fandom: glee Link: FF.net (T rated version). AO3. Warnings: None apply. Rating: Mature to explicit. Pairings: Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson, very slight Kurt/Adam at the beginning.

Thanks to @snarkyhag, @wowbright, and @slowcookedwriting for their handholding, cheerleading, and betaing of this fic. This fic really did require a village.

Written for the @fandomtrumpshate 2020 charity auction for @sunshineoptimismandangels. Completed as part of the @wipbigbang project.

Summary: After an unexpected Tony award, Kurt Hummel is Broadway's hottest up and coming star, which comes with expectations and some admirers that won't take a hint. When his best friend Elliott Gilbert suggests that they pretend to fake-date to get the leeches to back off, Kurt takes him up on the idea. It's all working out great - until Kurt starts to fall hard for dark-haired music director of his latest musical.

Read the seventh chapter on AO3, the completed (safe for work version) fic on FF.net, or click below to continue reading on tumblr.

*

Kurt rings the doorbell and waits patiently in the growing twilight. He glances down at his watch and winces at the time. Thankfully, Dani doesn’t seem to be annoyed when she opens the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kurt greets Dani with a kiss. “Unique wouldn’t let me go.”

“Elliott’s not here yet either.” She takes his jacket and leads him down the stairs to the little basement studio that she and Elliott have rented as practice space. “I’m just glad you were able to squeeze us in. You’re what, eight weeks from opening night?”

“Six.” He corrects. “Six very short weeks. Those three weeks waiting for the music and scripts made for very inefficient rehearsals so it’s an all consuming chaos now that they’re here. Unique has stepped up the pressure on rehearsals and all of a sudden, everybody’s realized that it’s all just half-baked and is scrambling.”

“You love it though.” Dani says.

“I do. I really do.” Kurt admits, as he squeezes into the room. The walls are covered in dark insulating foam and various instruments clutter every surface. His type A personality itches at the disorganization, but Dani would have his head if he tried to clean up—she thrives in the chaos. “I love giving myself over to the character and figuring out what makes him tick and I love watching all of the pieces come together. It’s why I did this in the first place. It’s rewarding, but gods, is it exhausting.”

Between stage direction, dance instruction, costume fittings, and music sessions with Blaine, Kurt often finds himself collapsing in bed late in the evening only to arise early and start all over again. The intensity drives him, though, as he seeks perfection in the emotional impact of his lines. “Brian” slips on like a wet suit every morning: a cocky and self-assured personage, with depths of brittle vulnerability that he only shows to those he trusts—traits Kurt recognizes all too well in himself. He wonders if this is why Ryan Durphy picked him to play the autobiographical role.

“Well, thanks for taking time to do this charity show with your old band. It really means a lot to me and Elliott.” Dani says, clearing a spot on the sofa. Kurt plops down beside her. “How’s Adam? Is it still awkward?”

“Surprisingly no. He’s completely over me, I think, and contrary to my fears, working with him has actually been enjoyable. It’s fun to lean into the mature, comfortable love of a long-time relationship that Brian and David have, you know? Unique makes sure that every argument we have has that sturdy foundation, so it’s a challenge.”

“And the songs? Was it worth the wait?” She teases.

“Nothing was worth that wait.” Kurt laughs. “The music is good though. The composers are new but talented.I’m pretty sure their motto was to make it as gay as possible. I’m singing more than one love song and then another to our unborn child and even though this is a comedy, it honestly makes me want to cry sometimes.”

“Aww, really?”

“When I was growing up, I longed to sing a romantic duet with a boy, with a song written specifically for two men, and now I get to sing it for young boys all over the world. And Blaine’s amazing on the piano, so it just sounds incredible even in practice. I can’t wait to hear how the full orchestration is going to sound.”

“Who’s Blaine?”

“Hmm? Oh, he’s the assistant music director. He’s mostly taken over for Brad. He’s from Ohio and actually taught for several years where I went to high school if you can believe it.”

They talk for a few minutes more, before the door is flung open and Elliott and his partner Chaz walk in. “Darlings!” Elliott declares in a dramatic fashion, “I hope you didn’t start without me.”

“Of course not. Kurt’s just been catching me up on all of the gossip.” Dani stands up to greet them both.

Chaz leans down and gives Kurt a hug and kiss. “Good to see you, Kurt.”

Elliott looks down at Kurt, a look of confusion on his face. “Kurt? Do I know a Kurt? Oh, you mean, my fake boyfriend who has no time for me?”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “I just saw you yesterday. But speaking of that, I don’t think I need you as a fake boyfriend anymore.”

Elliott gasps dramatically. “Is it me? Am I not taking care of your needs as your lover? Am I too needy?”

“Yes, it’s you. I don’t have time to balance faking a relationship along with everything else. Besides, everything is fine between Adam and me, and Chandler hasn’t gotten any more creepy than he already was. Services rendered.”

“Or maybe it’s because you have replaced me with—" he pauses dramatically "—your music director?”

Kurt drops his mouth. “What?”

“You mean Blaine?” Dani asks.

“Blaine? His name is Blaine? Oh, ho, ho, Kurt’s been talking about him to you too! Get this, Dani, I go to pick up lover boy here, because I am the best of friends and the best fake boyfriend, only, he doesn’t answer his phone and ignores my texts. Luckily, the stage hand knows me by this point because I am the best fake boyfriend ever and lets me in and what do I see? My fake boyfriend flirting, flirting I tell you, with this dark haired, compact cutie.”

“No!” Dani gasps in faux outrage. “Kurt was faking cheating?”

“Oh yes. He was doing The Lean.”

“The Lean? Are you sure it was The Lean? Because that’s deep level flirtation. Did he give The Giggle?”

Elliott nods seriously. “He did, indeed. Several times. It was as if I didn’t even exist.”

“You two,” Kurt pronounces, “are the worst.”

“And yet,” Elliott points out with a sadist gleam, “you’re not denying it.”

Kurt opens his mouth and then closes it. “Fine,” he says, “I have a crush on Blaine. Who is straight and very much in a relationship, so it’s just me being pathetic as usual.”

Elliott gives him a puzzled look. “Uh, I was there, and there were definite fuck-me-hard vibes coming from both of you. He is definitely not straight.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Okay, you have a point. He may be bi or pan but he’s definitely dating the lead actress, Tina. He lives with her. Trust me, he’s a nice guy who is to everybody he meets, just like every other guy that I’ve ever fallen for.”

Dani tips his head on her shoulder. “Aww, I’m sorry, Butt.”

“I let my imagination get ahead of me. It’s just... He’s amazingly good at his job. I’ve been performing for over a decade now and I’ve never sounded better. Blaine knows exactly how to address my weaknesses, like when I get brassy or a little flat on a high note. He knew exactly what my problem was and coached me through until every note was solid.”

“You’ve always had a kink for competence.” Elliott smirks.

“It’s not just me. Everybody sounds so good after working with him. I mean, these are seasoned Broadway actors and they all have blossomed under his tutelage. Tina sounds amazing. And he’s kind, the kind of kind that gets beaten out of you when you live in this city too long.” Kurt groans.

“You’re kind too.” Chaz interrupts. “And you’re not pathetic for having a crush.”

Kurt gives them a wan smile. “Thanks.”

“Chaz is right, as always,” Elliott blows them a kiss. “You should listen to them. Since you haven’t listened to me.”

“It’s nice seeing you with a crush, Kurt.” Dani pipes in. “No, really, you’ve kept yourself so busy for years that you’ve locked your heart up. Even if this doesn’t go anywhere, it’s just nice.”

Kurt’s face grows hot from all of the attention. “You all are biased and I hate you. I’ll get over it.”

“But all I really want to do is go home and sleep for a million years, so maybe we could rehearse sometime tonight?”

“I’ve got the best idea,” Elliott says. “What if we did a cover of ‘Lady Marmalade’?”

“No.”

“Are you crazy? This is a benefit concert. No.”

“Honey, that really isn’t one of your best ideas.”

Kurt is grateful for the distraction. This, at least, is something that he can deal with.

*

Despite Kurt’s best intentions, his crush on Blaine doesn’t diminish.

Kurt, of course, keeps it professional. They’re adults and he certainly wouldn’t want Blaine to feel awkward. Every morning is spent in the small rehearsal space, Blaine at the piano. Some mornings, it’s just the two of them; others, he clusters around the piano with Adam or Tina. It’s easily his favorite part of the day. Blaine’s exuberant smile, when he coaches Kurt through a trouble spot, is cocaine straight to his heart. In spare moments, Kurt cajoles Blaine into playing his song, that lovely song written just for Kurt that captures so much more of “Brian’s” emotional journey than the other songs he’s learning. Blaine still demures when Kurt pushes him to show others his work, but Kurt is nothing if not persistent.

He finds himself making excuses to go down to the rehearsal room for a few minutes and watch Blaine work his magic on the other cast members (Kitty gives him a suspicious look when she catches him lingering around). And if he manages to convince Unique to start stage rehearsals a half hour after their music sessions end, so there’s time for coffee at the cafe next door, well, they all need some self care in these stressful weeks, right?

So they talk over coffee about fashion and McKinley and then slowly open up about their dreams and aspirations. Blaine buys them a cookie to split—and an extra coffee for Tina. They sit together at lunch, continuing on their conversations—and Blaine splits his home-packed lunch with Tina, who has stopped glaring at Kurt, but interrupts constantly to ask “Blainey-bear” a question.

Blaine’s a great friend, he reminds himself sternly, when he finds himself lost in daydreams again. He’s generous and kind and funny and gorgeous and completely off-limits.

A couple of weeks later, Kurt lingers by the edge of the stage, allowing Tina and Kitty time to leave the room, ignoring Kitty’s openly suspicious look. They’ve been in non-stop rehearsals, adding the orchestra this week to their morning singing sessions, and it’s been a new challenge making sure their voices and the instruments blend appropriately. Blaine, as usual, has taken it in stride, collaborating with Brad and Unique to merge their visions. Unfortunately, this has meant that their coffee breaks—he refuses to allow himself to call them dates—have decreased in frequency with the increased intensity of stagings and dry-runs. He hasn’t seen Blaine beyond the stage in days and he misses him.

So he casually waits, pretending to be reviewing some of his choreography, while Blaine chats with Brad and compares notes and is ready to pounce when Blaine gathers his things to leave.

“Blaine! Hey.” He slides in step next to him, attempting to look and sound casual.

“Oh, hey! You guys are sounding phenomenal, truly. Can you believe we’re down to just a couple of weeks now?”

“Yeah, I’m trying not to think about that.”

“I may be biased, but I really don’t think that there’s anything to be worried about. It’s nice to have this weekend off though, recharge a little before this last rush, you know.”

“I know. It’s been a while since I really had a day off.”

“You should enjoy it. Have any plans?”

Kurt grabs the opportunity. “I’m performing, I mean, my old band is performing for a benefit concert and I’m singing with them. Would you like to come? I mean, do you have plans for tomorrow night? You said you wanted to get out of the apartment and do something. Um. And of course you can invite Tina. She’s welcome to come. Anybody is welcome.” He can’t stop himself from rambling.

Thankfully, Blaine does it for him. “You’re in a band? I didn’t know that.”

“Was. From college. My friends Elliott and Dani and I formed a cover band in college. Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, but yeah. We haven’t performed together for a couple of years, but there’s this charity concert, so. A reunion.” Fuck, he’s still rambling.

“I.” Blaine pauses for a second and then seems to change his mind on what he was going to say. “I’d love to go. It sounds like it’d be a fun night. And it’d be nice to formally meet your boyfriend.”

Oh. Right. Kurt had been so busy recently that he had forgotten about his fake boyfriend. Or breaking up with said fake boyfriend. Kurt hates Elliott for ever giving him the terrible idea of being his boyfriend. “Great! I’ll text you the address.”

“See you then.”

*

Kurt stands in the relative darkness just off stage at Inclusive, the drag bar they are performing at that night. His palms sweat as he listens as the band on stage takes its ovations. He had thought that he had gotten over any stage fright years ago—but it’s also been years since he had all of the spotlight on him and not as a character he’s portraying.

Dani and Elliott, along with their new bass guitarist Zen and drummer Taylor who had both joined after Kurt had left the band so he doesn’t know them well, do not seem to share his anxiety, given their idle slouching as they wait.

Dani crosses over to him and rubs his arm. “Hey. I can feel you freaking out from across the room.”

Kurt gives a wan smile. “Is it that obvious? I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“It happens to the best of us. You’re going to be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbles, “You don’t have an entire percussion section taking over your heartbeat.”

She laughs. “Here,” she says, pulling out a tube from her bag. “Nobody can feel nervous with eyeliner on. It’ll instantly make you a badass. Now stand still.”

Kurt stands still and obediently looks up as she paints under his lashes.

“There,” she proclaims. “Now you’re ready.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a smoking hot daddyfucker who’s going to pull all of the spotlight from me.” Elliott chimes in, slinging his arm over Kurt’s shoulders.

Kurt pinches Elliott’s side. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because your life would be dull and terribly heteronormative.” Elliott pouts.

“Darlings,” Chaz interrupts, gliding up to them in 6 inch platform heels. They’ve transformed into their drag persona, KeeWee Deelite, with thick long lashes and bright red lipstick contrasting with their trimmed goatee. “You’re up now.” They air-kiss all of the band members for luck, before entering the stage to announce their act.

Kurt hears “KeeWee” announcing “And now put your hands together for One Three Hill!” and Kurt’s suddenly pushed on stage.

The spotlight glares down on him, blinding him to the audience. Dimly, he thinks he can hear a concentrated section of hollering fans screaming of his name and he throws a saucy wink in their direction. With that, his nerves lessen and his confidence returns. This is his place to shine.

They launch directly into their set, a mix of fan favorites from when they were in college and had a small but devoted following and covers of “It’s Raining Men” and “Holding Out for a Hero” that never fail to bring the audience to their feet and tonight is no different. The crowd roars in appreciation.

Kurts sits out a couple of songs when the band plays new music from their latest album. He spots Rachel, who excitedly waves at him from the front row, and Blaine near the middle. Blaine’s looking at him, soft and encouraging, seemingly ignoring the rest of the band, and Kurt can’t help the smile that lands on his face. Blaine’s here. Supporting him.

Kurt is so in love with this man.

The band plays the finishing chords and Kurt walks up to the microphone as the crowd cheers exuberantly and then dies down to let him speak. “Thank you for being here tonight and thanks to Inclusive for hosting this special event. Let’s give it up for Elliott on guitar, Dani on keyboard, Taylor our drummer, and Zen on bass and we are One Three Hill!”

He pauses, allowing them to absorb their well deserved praise. “In a few weeks, I’ll be starring in a new play opening up across the bridge there. Growing up, I thought that as a gay actor, I could either be the sassy best friend or the tragically dead. There weren’t happy love stories. And now, now, I’m so grateful to be starring in one, a comedy and a musical. It’s about found family and community and realizing that those dreams that you were told you could never have can be yours. I think it’s pretty awesome, but well, I am biased.

“I was going to sing you one of the songs tonight, but I ran into problems with Legal as the soundtrack isn’t released until Friday.” The crowd boos in response. “So instead, I’m going to sing a song written by a dear friend of mine that was inspired by our show. It’s called ‘Wanted.’”

He closes his eyes briefly, centering himself, and then opens his mouth to sing.

For too long I’ve lived in shadows Suppressing all those pesky dreams Forced in the molds of their making My voice locked in a silent scream

Kurt can’t see Blaine through the lights but he keeps his eyes steady on where he is sitting. The song pours out of him, every word infused with emotion. Behind him, Taylor picks out the beat on the drum and Dani matches on keyboard. His band joins in the background vocals, filling out the sound.

“Wanted” is an anthem of self-acceptance, of finding your dreams, a completely different vibe than their earlier songs, and the queer audience of Inclusive respond enthusiastically, clapping along and joining in for the chorus. Their rapture is infectious and Kurt rides the emotions with them, his voice ringing loud and true.

So tell the doubters and tell yourself You won’t stay down, you’ve just started. Your dreams are small but they are yours And in this world, you are wanted.

The music trails off as Kurt sings the chorus again. “In this world, you are, you are wanted.”

The applause is deafening. One Three Hill finishes the night with one last song, the runaway hit from their self-released EP. The crowd response is intoxicating and Kurt hugs Dani fiercely. Chaz, as KeeWee, grabs Elliott and kisses him deeply and the crowd roars louder. Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by it all. He looks out into the crowd, but he can no longer see Blaine.

*

“Kurt! Kurt!” A chorus of voices penetrate the buzz in the lobby where he’s been signing a few autographs and CDs and thanking people for coming. He looks up and sees his cast and crew clustered off to the side: Tina and Kitty and the rest of the chorus, Adam in the back with Roz and Unique (who are actually smiling at each other, wonder of wonders), Mike their choreographer, Terrence from costumes, and even Chandler. And Blaine, standing slightly away, his hands in his pockets, and his face unreadable.

“Oh my god!” He squeaks and he can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes. “You all came?” He strides over and gives each of them a hug.

“It was Blaine’s idea.” Tina says.

“Yeah,” Kitty chimes, giving him her patented pointed look. “Otherwise, none of us would be here because somebody didn’t think to invite us.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to spend your Saturday evening listening to me.”

She sniffs and hugs him tightly. “You’re our people. What else would we do?”

He turns to Blaine, who hasn’t said anything. “I—"

“Kurt!” Rachel squeals as she pushes people aside, oblivious to the frustrated looks they give her. She throws her arms around him and he swings her briefly in a circle. “Kurt, you were wonderful!”

“Rachel, glad you could make it!”

“Of course. I couldn’t miss my best friend’s performance!”

Kurt resists avoiding rolling his eyes. She’s missed many of his performances and their friendship struggled those early years after college when she easily found starring roles on Broadway and he didn’t. It nearly imploded once when Rachel, unwilling to admit her good fortune, implied that there must be something wrong with Kurt’s work ethic if he wasn’t getting roles. Thankfully, she had meekly apologized and Kurt forgave her, but their friendship had never been quite the same since then.

“Your voice has never sounded better, not even when we sang in the Midnight Madness, remember that? You’ve gotten me tickets to your opening night, right? I’ll see if I can get my understudy to take over, but it’s last minute now. You really should have gotten me tickets a month ago.”

“It’s already on your calendar.” He says patiently.

“But really, Kurt, who is your composer friend? The one who did that beautiful song you sang. Did he write it for you? You must introduce me. Do you think he would write music for me too? Jesse just doesn’t have the right touch when it comes to composition. I keep telling him that not everybody possesses all musical gifts, but—"

“Rachel.” He interrupts. “You’re rambling and you’re turning it all onto you again.”

She looks a little chagrined at least. “Sorry, sorry. Did I interrupt you?”

“A little. These are my cast and crew from The New Normal. And this is Rachel Berry.”

“You’re Fanny Price,” Chandler breathes in a reverent tone, “in Jane Austen Sings. I’ve dreamed of working with you for ages.”

“Oh, thank you,” Rachel cooes and his friends cluster around her, peppering her with questions.

Somebody taps him on his shoulder and he turns to see Blaine. “You were … remarkable, Kurt, truly.” He says and leans in for a hug. Kurt clutches him close, closing his eyes when Blaine hooks his chin over his shoulder.

“Blaine.” Kurt says, pulling back, his eyes searching his beautiful face. He still can’t make out the emotions he sees there. “Blaine, I—"

“We should talk.” Blaine says, and Kurt’s heart cramps in fear.

“Hey, Kurt,” and Kurt nearly screams at another fucking interruption. He plasters a smile as he turns to Elliott. Chaz has their arm slung around his shoulders and Elliott’s face and neck are covered in red lipstick marks.

“Yes?”

“The band’s going out to an afterparty. Did you wanna come? Oh hey, it’s your gang!”

“Who’s that?” Kurt hears Roz ask.

Chandler's loud voice pips up. “Oh, that’s Elliott, Kurt’s cheating, whoring boyfriend.”

“You’re dating Elliott? And you didn’t tell me?” Rachel shreaks. Elliott slides out from under Chaz’s arm and shoots Kurt an apologetic look.

“Uh, it’s new?” Kurt answers.

“That’s what you said three months ago.” Chandler snipes back.

“And I don’t owe you or anybody else any explanations of my dating life.” Kurt counters and Chandler frowns deeply but doesn’t say anything more.

“You guys go on,” he tells Elliott. “Text me the address. I’m just going to say my goodbyes, ok?”

“Sure.” Elliott leans in and pecks him on the lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he looks around, Blaine is gone. Kurt stuffs back his frustration and plasters on a smile for his friends.

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

[esculentevil]

SportaRobbie+Stephanie: Acceptance/Assurance

Stephanie: [nervously to Sportacus] Dad would you accept me if was lesbian? [flails] Just asking because I'm 100% straight 👉🏻👈🏻 [sweats]

Sportacus:[amusedly laughs before assuringly smiling] Sweetie, I'm gay too; you know right?

[Later, after almost an hour of embarrassedly flailing Stephanie, in Robbie’ lair]

Robbie: Shouldn't we tell her we already knew?

Sportacus: [hums thoughtfully, actually knowingly, and then shakes his head; smiles softly at Robbie] Children need to think they're figuring it out on their own; they also need to feel like they're CHOOSING to let you know; it's about trust, safety, security, and sense of self.

Robbie: [stares, surprised and with slightly wet eyes] ... ily.

((Technically a collab with @bondedostae! =D We were talking about Lazytown again, specifically about the fandom tending to headcanon/write Stephanie as a powerful lesbian, and she made this joke about Stephie coming out to Sportie who’s something of her parental figure and I ended up following it up with dialogue between Robbie and Sportie--originally as a joke, but, then, as like... a truthful thought; like, why wouldn’t a parent just tell their kid, “ur gay it ok” cuz as someone who grew up not straight in the 90s/00s, like... it would have helped so much knowing that it was OK to be weird in my own house/family. It got me thinking about Kurt in Glee and how his dad knew since Kurt was a child but never said he knew UNTIL Kurt told HIM; and idk it just clicked: children need to discover themselves and figure themselves out on their own and while it would be great for them to invite their parents along or whatever... it’s SELFdiscovery and, more than that, it’s a child becoming aware of themself and CHOOSING to share themself. That is... just so important. Self, Trust, and Choice. Idk if anyone else agrees with this but... Idk but I feel this is important to share. Hopefully it helps someone out there. All my love =) It’s ok.))

[angelhummel]

Home, Original Song, Naked :)))

Original Song is HERE!

Home -

My favorite song: Home. I can't listen to it without crying. Also love Kurt's solo (yes, solo) obviously

My favorite quote: How do you two not have a show on Bravo?

My favorite moment: seeing cheerio!Kurtcedes at all is wonderful. and that they took peer pressure and body image issues seriously and worked it into their stories. and kurt apologizing to cedes at the end and hugging her. and quinn's talk with cedes in the nurse's office <3

My least favorite moment: again, general focus on will and april lol. im not here for it. also we got to see finn and burt bonding, why couldn't we see kurt and carole bonding?? also RELEASE THE CUT FERGALICIOUS SCENE WE DEMAND IT!!!

My favorite character: Mercedes! she manages to work through her insecurities and becomes a stronger and more self assured person

Naked -

My favorite song: Centerfold/Hot In Here

My favorite quote: "Am I really expected to be able to bare my soul if I'm ashamed of the body that holds it?"

My favorite moment: Blaine recruiting everyone to make the video for Sam!! The Jarley stuff is cute. The calendar pictures are hilariously cheesy. All the songs are pretty great. And I love seeing Rachel's old self manifesting to debate her new self over this brand new grown up issue she's currently faced with. And Finn's talk with Artie is good

My least favorite moment: ugh this is a least favorite Kurt ep lol. calling rachel a slut and acting like she should still be hung up on finn. double whammy

My favorite character: Sam! This and Home are great eps to do together, look at the Samcedes parallels. He struggles with his body image this ep as well, but learns that he's so much more than his muscles

[spookyc]

*spoilers for heathers the musical and danganronpa 2 goodbye despair*

*tw for mentions of death and suicide*

Okay so I know it's been a minute since I've posted anything substantial so here's this:

I've got an heather's au for dr 2 that id like to share. Its not a completely fleshed out one but I have a good idea of most of the main characters in the story. So the easy choice would just be to make hajime, veronica, and make nagito, JD. Especially nagito for jd with the whole, well, bomb thing as well as them both being mentally unstable and having rough childhoods. Hajime fits the role of veronica because, like veronica, he wants to fit in and not be ostracized constantly. More specifically though, it would help him become confident, which is literally his whole arc in the second game. The heathers and the rest could then be determined by a lot of different characters and so on and so forth. I respect this interpretation and it does make a lot of sense, however, I would like to propose my own interpretation.

Let's start with the two main characters, veronica and jd. So for my au, I have decided that fuyuhiko will be veronica and peko will be jd. Let's start with my choice for jd. So, after my binge of the second game's playthrough, I remember that one night I was listening to heathers, specifically the song, our love is god. And as I listened I realized how similar peko and jd actually are. Now to preface, I'm not saying jd and peko are the same character, jd attempted to bomb an entire school and peko simply made the calculated decision to kill in order for fuyuhiko's safety to be assured.

What i am saying though, is that jd and peko's thought processes are very similar, and if peko was just a tad more unhinged, they would be hard to distinguish. How are they similar? Well, first you have the whole, "I worship you" mentality. Now, peko doesn't necessarily kiss the earth that fuyuhiko walks upon but this could be connected more to their actual relationship. That of a master and his servant. I servant must serve, much like a believer would to a god.

And right after that line jd says, "Id give my life for yours." Which peko literally does in the canon story, she gives her life in order to save fuyuhiko, and even protects him with her body in her own execution. Secondly, they both are delinquents, or socially awkward. They are both standoffish and seen as intimidating by others, and they both don't exactly know how to communicate well. Thirdly, they have somewhat similar backgrounds. Jd lost his mother, and peko is an orphan, they both know what its like to not live with parents, or at least not favorable parents. For example, peko had to constantly interfere with mr. and mrs. kuzuryu fighting to insure fuyuhiko's safety. And jd and his father have a tenuous relationship, with jd's father mostly being a near non-present force in his life. Additionally, im sure the leaders of a yakuza clan weren't exactly doting parents.

And lastly, their mutual feelings of self worth, or more so, the lack of it. Both jd and peko believe their lives to be meaningless without the existence of their veronicas. The only good things in their lives are their veronicas, and they would do anything to hold onto that happiness, even if it resulted in their deaths. But enough about jd and peko, what about fuyuhiko? This may seem like an odd choice and solely made on the prospect that jd is peko, but that isn't exactly the case.

While yes it seems unlikely that fuyuhiko would bother himself with the heathers, or even have a martha, i think it fits more as a visual metaphor of his character growth shown in the game. Its just that in this au, he's a popular dick that learns to be a better person after his gf dies, which is almost what happens in the actual game, minus the popular part. But mostly I'd like to tie in fuyuhiko's role as veronica when it comes to jd. This is where the similarities really start to shine. This is shown mainly in the song, seventeen, where veronica yearns for a normal relationship and to just be normal kids that aren't surrounded by murder. Sound familiar? Well it should, that's literally fuyuhiko's whole speech near the end of chapter 2.

I doubt this needs repeating since this scene is the equivalent of the g note in the dr fandom but for the sake of the argument I will go on. Fuyuhiko in his parting words says this, "You didn't need to be a tool, you just needed to be yourself." And, "I never wanted a tool, I just wanted you....Only you." Which is him saying, "Peko I don't what you to serve me, I don't want this kind of relationship. I just want you to be yourself, and I wanted you for you, not to be a tool for murder." Which could then easily be implied that he doesn't want to murder anyone anymore. This is a near exact mirror of the feelings expressed by veronica in seventeen.

Sure im probably looking into things a bit, but still fuyuhiko's speech near the end of ch. 2 and veronica's feelings in seventeen share a lot of similarities. Both veronica and fuyuhiko simply want to have a normal relationship with their respective partners, but this ultimately fails because their partners worshiped them and this fatal misunderstanding would lead to their deaths. As for the others, I don't have nearly as deep anlaysises of them and I don't have all the characters but I'll briefly discuss my choices for the heathers, kurt, ram, and martha. Also, this is purely in the universe of dr 2, so possible better choices for characters in other games would not be possible in my au.

So heather chandler is the ultimate imposter, this was a pretty obvious choice, while the UI isn't quite as big of a dick as byakuya he's still a jerk, but more importantly, just like in the game, he is a great leader for the heathers and without him the other two descend into chaos. Now this pick is gonna be a strange one but I will explain. I chose mikan to be heather duke. Now I know yall may find that to be an unfitting choice but I personally chose mikan to be heather duke mainly for the shine a light reprise. This is because I chose heather mcnamara to be hiyoko.

Most of the other girls also didn't fit this role, akane would be hard to see as any of heathers and I also think she's far too carefree to urge someone to commit suicide. Ibuki is completely out of the question, and considering how her death looked in the game it would be quite ironic as well. Chiaki also wouldn't make sense for obvious reasons. Mahiru also would obviously not make sense either and she's already a choice for another character anyway. And lastly, sonia wouldn't fit either. I could see her having a secret nasty side but I dont think she would tell someone to commit suicide and she also was always kind to hiyoko even when hiyoko lashed out at others.

And just to cover my bases, I don't think any of the boys would fit either. Maybe kazuichi or nagito but kazuichi is too much of a pussy and nagito would be more likely to say that stuff about himself rather than direct towards anyone else. Heck I could also even consider that after the ultimate imposter dies that's when mikan reverts back to her personality as the ultimate despair, so instead of her reverting because of some disease it would be at the death of her "friend" and the role of leader getting into her head. This would then influence her to tell hiyoko to commit suicide, causing peak despair and blah blah whatever. Hiyoko as heather mcnamara was a pretty easy choice thanks to lifeboat, it also especially fits if you consider hiyoko's backstory. She's the sole daughter of the saionji family, which is a very prestigious family in dr. This along with her talent as a dancer means that she is held to a much higher standard than other kids of her age and that she goes through constant pressure each day due to this standard.

"If I say the wrong thing, or i wear the wrong outfit, they'll throw me right over the side." This is what hiyoko has to deal with on a daily basis from her family as well as her fans. She also could likely be projecting this fear onto the other students. Alright, last three. For kurt and ram, I chose mahiru and sato and if you want my honest opinion it's literally just because peko gets to kill them both in our love is god and that's pretty much canon in the actual game. I say pretty much because, technically fuyuhiko is the one that kills sato but this is an au and that's honestly a pretty minor fix.

Lastly, I haven't thought a lot about martha's role in this au, but if I had to choose it would most likely be kazuichi, he fits as the social outcast and especially as the frequent punching bag for the heathers, especially considering that hiyoko is among their ranks. And that's about it for my dr heather's au! This post definitely went on longer than I intended but I had fun with it and I think you guys deserve a lengthier post since I haven't made as many actual posts besides birthdays in a hot minute. Let me know what yall think of this, and if you'd like to hear me infodump about more of my dr aus or thoughts than I would be happy to oblige.

[gleeblaineislife]

Glee- season 3 au one-shot/suicide note. by gleeblaineislife

I’m living a lie. Well, I was living a lie by now. My life was not perfect by any means, even though I acted like it was. I am not the bubbly, dapper schoolboy called Blaine Warbler. I am Blaine Devon Anderson and he is much different. Blaine Devon Anderson is an actor and Blaine Warbler is his character. I don’t remember what it’s like to be pure, unfiltered Blaine Devon Anderson. I don’t even know who that is. But that’s okay, since people wouldn’t like him. If anything he’s just a fucked up mess that no one wants to deal with. I get it. I don’t even want to deal with him. But, everyone likes Blaine Warbler. Blaine Warbler is charismatic, selfless, kind, confident, and a leader. All the things Blaine Devon Anderson isn’t... I am going to get this note started with an auto-biography so people can see just how my life was.

I was a mistake. My parents got drunk and went unprotected in July 1994. Nine months later, April 6th, 1995, I was born. My parents didn’t want to keep me, but Cooper (nine years old at the time) was ecstatic to be getting a sibling. And my parents would do anything for their perfect son. I didn’t have the best childhood. My parents worked a lot, so Cooper had to babysit me. Which means, some of my earliest memories are my brother telling me everything I was doing wrong. I was close to my lola, though. She lived in the Philippines, but when she was in America visiting my mama, I got her full attention. My lola taught me Filipino so I could speak to her better (Lola’s English was limited). Lola also made sure I took great pride in being half Pinoy. Then, my lola died when I was 7 years old. My mama and I went to the Philippines for her funeral. I remember Mama and I crying for hours together. Anyways, life went on. My bond with Mama was short-lived, which was an improvement from my non-existent one with my dad. Cooper moved out when he was eighteen and I was eight. My parents were disappointed when he went to L.A. to pursue acting. But, he was still their perfect son. 

I have always known I like boys in that way and not girls. I was twelve when I realized there was a name for that. Gay. And I knew that no one liked people that were gay. I was beyond upset that I was gay. I cried myself to sleep each night praying/begging for anyone to make me straight. Of course that never happened. It took 2 years and a lot of cuts on my thighs to accept that I was gay. I came out to my parents. My dad yelled. Mama cried. It was one of the worst days ever. In high school, somehow people found out I was gay. That led to countless insults, being the root of everyone’s jokes, and being shoved daily. I had no friends. I had no family. I had nobody. I started cutting everywhere that wasn’t visible through clothes. I tried to stay positive. I told myself that they would get tired of torturing me. That my parents would accept me. I thought one of those was coming true when my father came to talk to me. He was working less and he said he wanted to do something with me. I was so happy. When he presented the old car he wanted us to repair, I told myself it wouldn’t be that bad. It was. I’ve never been interested in cars and fixing one was incredibly boring. I knew what his true intentions were once he started talking to me about girls. I told him I was still gay and he got mad. We continued fixing the car without him mentioning it again. Until we were finished and he brought up the topic of girls again. When I once again said I was still gay, he just walked away. Two weeks later him and all of his stuff was gone forever. It was just me and Mama.

At the end of my freshman year there was a Sadie Hawkins dance. I asked my only friend/the only other out kid to go with me. He said yes and we went together. As friends. It was a night full of dancing and flirting with each other in a friendly way. Afterwards, we were waiting for his father to pick us up from the dance and we were jumped. Some people on the football team were the attackers. I got a concussion, five broken ribs, a broken nose, a fractured ankle, and PTSD. I had it worse than my friend. Mama was so scared and refused to waste any more time ‘failing as a mother’ (her words, not mine). Mama and I both started going to therapy. They put me on SSRIs to help with my PTSD. Mama got some kind of anxiety medication. For the next school year I enrolled at Dalton Academy. Mama picked up more shifts at her job and used the money Lola gave to me to pay for the tuition. 

Dalton was where I got to rebuild. Blaine Warbler was carefully crafted at Dalton Academy. I stopped doing therapy and went off of the SSRIs in November. I was so determined to be okay. Cutting was the only thing that kept me going. The doctors questioned the scars in the hospital but I was quick to assure them they were all accidents. I never brought it up in therapy either. I always made sure what we talked about was strictly related to my PTSD. Anyways, I joined the Warblers and became the lead singer. (I’ve taken a few vocal lessons before the Sadie Hawkins incident). Since Mama usually worked on the weekends, I didn’t feel a need to go to my house. So I usually spent them learning the school’s piano and guitar and perfecting my vocals. Music was the only other thing that kept me sane. Music and cutting. The only times Blaine Devon Anderson was revealed. Then I met Kurt. And most of you guys probably know the external perspective of that. On the inside I was battling with depression, self-hatred (for manipulating Kurt and everyone else that I was normal + making my dad leave), and recurring PTSD (from hearing Kurt’s story and going back to a public school). I am the only one at blame. That’s the story of my life. Now on to one last thing I have to say to everyone:

Mama, I love you and I’m sorry that I’ve been a burden making you work more and driving your soulmate away. 

Dad, I hate it but I still do love you. I’m sorry for being gay. I’m sorry for not liking cars and being too short to play sports. I’m sorry that I’m too feminine for you to love.

Cooper, thank you for not caring that I’m gay. You are a truly great brother and I love you.

Warblers, thank you for accepting me as your leader and believing in me as much as I believe in all of you.

New directions, I get why you guys didn’t want me to be on your team. I know I’m an outsider. You don’t have to deal with me now.

Kurt, you were an amazing boyfriend and I love you. I’m so sorry that you don’t love me since I’m a coward and am so afraid that once you found out I wasn’t perfect you’d leave. I hope you find an amazing husband.

I tried to have a great last day in this world. I made and ate breakfast with Mama, called Cooper, tried to be happy at school, sang ‘Cough Syrup’ in glee club, went on a coffee date with Kurt, and now I am about to call Mama one last time. Then I’m going to take the pills while listening to my favorite songs in my favorite spot in my backyard. It’s the perfect way to end my anything but perfect life. I’ve been acting for too long. I can’t live like this any longer. I am a fraud. A fake. I’m about to see Lola. Goodbye everybody. I’ve been battling with depression for so long and now I’ve lost. I can’t even stand to live with myself so how would other people stand to live with me?

I’m so sorry.

Goodbye

[kurtty-drabbles]

House of M Redone part 5

N/A: I got Netflix but I´ll not let my writing stop. Here we go, Kurt, you´re so whipped.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @muninandhugin @tieflingteeth

The school has upholds many traditions, smaller and bigger, among teachers and students. It was a way to bond with the old and next generation. So far, so good. Except, a new novelty roaming around the halls and classroom. 

Said novelty is nothing more or less than Nightcrawler, one of the most famous Red guards. Whispers, speculations, including some autographs-sometimes, follow by requests of petting his fur- however, what fuels the rumors are two facts:

1) Nightcrawler is taking his time to visit one person.

2) The said person is none other than Kitty Pryde.

Kitty is spotting a new hairstyle. Fluffy and Jewish style will never out of the menu but is possible to change a few things. So, Kitty has a wavy short style.

(Kitty hairstyle)

At this very moment, Kitty is reading some essays with a knee eye to any strange line regards Namor- some of her students have mothers who like to help in the essays. Some mothers have an extreme adoration- causing an exasperated sigh.

"Oh my God, if I read another line about Namor´s abs..." Kitty taps her pen in a nervous tick. One time, two times, furthermore three times. Now, she´s writing something in the essay. "Tell your mother I´m not interested in knowing about Namor´s sex life...doubt his dick could have stopped the grand war! But rest assured he did try" 

"So, not a fan of Namor?" a male voice draws in. Kitty humms in agreement as she picks another essay.   Doe-eyes lift up to see Nightcrawler smirking at her. "He can be a hassle to deal, let me tell you that... he and his fangirls" mentally add and his obsession with Sue Storm

"Hello, Nightcrawler, what a surprise to see you, in my office, may I help you? Soon, we´ll dive into the history of the Red Guards...I´ll spares no one of my witty" she promises.

"As I would expect of such a teacher like you" Kurt´s smooth line must be appreciated. "I´m here to ask for a favor. Kitty, would you like to go with me to the royal ball? The royal family has many parties and gatherings and I, as a member of the Red Guard, must attend and be on my best behavior" Kurt notes sagely how her doe eyes are glued on his golden ones.

"Oh, you mean ...no orgies?" her question is childish, filled with innocence as her grin got wider.

Kurt wrinkles at this. His fangirls seem to appreciate his sexy appeal too much sometimes.

"No, no orgies." is important to emphasize this as strongly as possible. Again, some of his fandoms really enjoy Kurt´s sex appeal. "But I do need to be on my best behavior..."

Kitty´s eyes look down as her fingers tap on her desk. She looks up again to send the pitiful stare Kurt ever saw. "Oh, elf, I´m so sorry...who is this stupid lady that refused you? Look" she clicks her tongues and has a contemplative expression written on her face. "I´m a big fan of enemies to lovers and all that, but in real life, if a lady says no...date another lady won´t make her magically love you. LET IT GO, elf"

Kurt can only narrow his eyes at this. " Are you...using Frozen/Disney jokes on me?"

Kitty is the image of the innocent. As usual.

"There´s no other girl, just you" Kurt promised never seeing the appeal of dating a girl to make another jealous. "I must say...your self-deprecating humor is not flattering" smirks at her expression. 

"So, let me get this straight, you" points to Kurt vehemently with her pen. "could have any lady to the royal ball and for some reason, one I´m not getting, you want to go with me? What about them?" the pen now points to the pair of eyes staring at them with wide eyes.

It took a minute for Kurt to look. It took a minute for all of them to leave.

"I want to go with you....I feel you, in all your wisdom and wit, won´t let me go to an orgy party" humor is the best weapon. Case and point, Kitty smiles at this.

"Well, I would love to...but, you know, in the program X...they didn´t add in my DNA how to dance and talk to royals" Kurt pouts. Kitty smiles- one must observe, as Kurt did, how her face is perfect to smile- the answer to such line is being waited for.

"You´ll never let me forget that, will you?"

"NOPE"

"Fine, I deserve, I guess. I still think it was strange a ..." thread this line with a clear mind and common sense. "civilian, I would say civilian, manage to handle the situation with Juggernaut so calmly"

"Elf, I´m a teacher...Juggernaut is nothing compared to that" winks at him. "Ok, guess I pick you up at 19hs?"

The nerve of this woman.

Then her face gets serious. "Look, I have to ask...what happened to nurse..." Kitty and embarrassed shouldn´t walk together. She puts her hands in front of her chest to make a point. "you know, the nurse I have a big personality?"

Oh, the nerve of this woman.

"Christine...well, she won´t bother us, I hope"

"She seems ...good"

"You can say she´s not very bright, she asked me if I was German"

"Normally, I hate a man calling another woman dumb or anything like that, but...yeah, in this case...I feel you. Is she alright?"

"Finally got we´ll never happen and took a job in Chicago"

"Well, good for her"

___________________________________________________________________________________________

(Emma´s dress)

Emma Frost is more than used to those social events. Having her school, and her name as well, in such high regard means doors are open for her.  The events that almost happen to her students have prevented only thanks to Juggernaut´s stupidity and Emma is well-aware of that.

Oh, right. Kitty and a certain Red Guard are in this equation as well. Not that Emma needs to point this one out.

Oh, speaking on the devil. Emma´s blue eyes narrow as she notices Kitty Pryde, of all people, present in the entrance gate having her arms locked with a certain Red Guard. Oh, Nightcrawler, you´re as subtle and discreet as an elephant in a china store.

Felicia Hardy is Black Cat. Felicia Hardy is a businesswoman and right now, Emma´s date. Coming closer to Emma´s ear to whisper always have double meanings. "Is that...Nightcrawler?"

Nightcrawler is really that popular.

Emma wouldn´t want to introduce herself or have to speak with Kitty Pryde. Sadly,  Black Cat has other ideas.

"Oh my god, you´re Nightcrawler, sorry, that sounds stupid. You know who you are. I just want to say I´m a fan" Felicia speaks in an amicable tone and shakes hands with the azzure man.

Her eyes notice Kitty. Kitty, for her part, was too busy sending death glares to Emma. It was a mutual action.

"Oh, you must be Kitty Pryde, Emma told me a lot about you" Felicia smirks. "anyone who can make the great White Queen nervous is a powerful foe"

Kitty now is taken back by this line. "She used to parade around wearing a corset and nothing else"

"Only because you know it looks good on me...not my fault you have a problem with your body"

"Oh, Emma, don´t confuse my ability to use pants to shame over my body. And for the records, all those plastic surgeons ...and no change on your terrible personality" Kitty has a mock concern expression.

Emma won´t dare to cause a scene. Not tonight.

"Nightcrawler, careful with this one. She´s a handful" Emma decides to say only this. Felicia and Emma are holding hands and walking away.

Kurt couldn´t leave this reply without a proper answer. "Oh, God. I hope so. I hope she´s the kind of the woman my mother warned about"

Emma has no response. Felicia is cackling. Kitty is looking at her shoes- if anyone asks, she can say how she was admiring such expensive shoes. Only that- and Kurt wonders if that is the right thing to say.

(Kitty´s dress)

__________________________________________________________________________________________

(Wanda´s dress)

Wanda Maximoff is the Witch Queen, as most of her followers and family love to call her, and while she understands traditions and its importance...she must confess how this gathering almost didn´t happen. Wanda is as social as a person can be. 

Tonight, she´s on the edge. Lorna and Pietro aren´t good actors to pretend otherwise.

"Anyone wants booze?" Lorna suggests already with some drinks in hand.

"Sure, but I can´t get drunk" Pietro confessed. "thanks to my powers"

"Wanda?" Lorna asked as Wanda is looking Cap Marvel guiding the boys around - a subtle body-guard. A powerful body-guard- her eyes snap back to Lorna as the other is offering drinks to Wanda.

"Yes, please. I´m not feeling this is a good idea...After everything, I feel we´re sitting ducks waiting to be attacked"

"Wanda...you´re not alone, ok? We´re here to protect you, and everyone else. Let´s be real, not the first time a villain wants to conquer Genosha" Lorna half-joke. No one seems to get her sense of humor.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty was admiring the view. Not Kurt, if he asks, but the people in general. Everyone is so famous and important. Hell, even Emma Frost is important. If her eyes linger on Kurt´s handsome face is only to prove how important he is.

After all, Nightcrawler is the famous Red Guard. The fact he´s here with her still seems a dream.

"Am I that handsome?" Kurt asked smiling showing a part of his fangs.

"I think you know this by now...I´m just impressed by how much important people are here" Kitty confessed. Too honest. Too raw and too afraid at the same time.

"Yeah, everyone here is important"

"I know"

"Even you"

"What?"

Kurt feels this is a small victory. Especially seeing her blushing face. A small victory.

________________________________________________________________________________________

The Queen is not one to ignore heroes. So, once she caught the word Nightcrawler and the famous teacher Pryde are present in her ball, Wanda makes her mission to at least say hi to them.

Poor woman! if she hasn´t thought quickly...her students...

The Queen needs no introductions. Everyone knows her face. Kitty´s eyes widen and without thinking much-if she was thinking at all- she makes a bow and puts her right hand´s palm in her forehead and speaks this line.

"Enchanted to meet you, Witch Queen"

It came out so naturally. Kitty wonders if someone is controlling her movements or something because she feels too abashed to say anything else.

Kurt is at a loss for words here.

Wanda claps her hands together. "Oh, a fellow witch too?" her eyes are glowing. For once, not with her power.

"No, Your Highness. One of my students is a witch and goes to the Cackle Academy in the summer. Her parents believe in education in the magic system and in the mutant system...and I can always learn something new"

Better be honest with the Witch Queen.

Is the wise decision as Wanda nods in approval.

"Still, it's nice to see people paying respects to the Witchcraft rituals. Anyway, you´re Katherine Anne Pryde. I...just want to say how brave you were for dealing with Juggernaut until the Red Guards arrived" Wanda speaks with poison. As a real Witch Queen should.

"Well, he didn´t want to lead me any sword...I had to be creative" Kitty responds.

Wanda chuckles and nods. "You´re creative enough. Maybe next time, Nightcrawler can lean one of his swords" and adds. "still, I´m happy you and your students are unharmed and I promise you...this won´t happen again"

Kurt is really at a loss for words here.

Wanda excuse herself as she has to talk with the Queen of Wakanda. Ororo Monroe.

"Katzchen...what are you?"

"At this moment, I don´t know...Kurt, can I stay the rest of the night holding your arm?"

"Please"

"Thank you"

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 100 Xs2) "Day 26: Seattle and Old Side Chicks

@creatureofthen1ght-v3 @crystalbaby12 @5sosfam1dlover @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @rosefilledhearts-blog

They're playing The Show Box tonight.

"SEATTLE!!!!" Colson shouts as Sex Drive fades out. "How you doin' tonight?" He asks to their roars. "We got a special show lined up just for you... You ready to FUCKING DO THIS!?!" He screams.

The nightclub rattles in excitement around him. Leading off with Habits, they flow into Breaking News 2. Slim and Colson rocking across the stage together as lights and smoke flash and flow around them. El Diablo follows with LOCO, GTS and Wild Boy. Colson jumping into the crowd twice already.

Luna joins him OnStage for an overly sexual performance of Bad Things. Unable to keep their hands off each other. Throwing their matching tattooed arms up into the air as they dance and bop around, singing to one another. Colson drives the crowd wild when he grabs Luna as she heads OffStage. Spinning her around to dip and kiss her passionately before allowing her to go as he shouts her name to the crowd.

"Oooh... This Motherfucker..." Luna thinks. Pussy dripping for Colson as she walks SideStage.

Meeting up with Sam, Dom and The Ash's, Sam hands her joint as Ashleigh passes her their usual bottle of Jameson. The five friends laugh and sing together as The Boys run through Trap Paris, Candy, The Break Up and See My Tears. Dom dipping off at some point to prepare.

Strumming the opening chords to I Think I'm Okay, Colson shouts "I WANT THE ROOF BLOWN OFF THIS MOTHERFUCKER TONIGHT!!!!"

🎼Watch me//Take a good thing//And fuck it all up//In one night//Catch me//I'm the one//On the run//Away from//The headlights//No sleep//Up all week// Wasting time//With people//I don't like

I THINK//SOMETHING'S//FUCKING//WRONG WITH ME🎶

The audience sings with him so loudly they almost drown him out like alcohol. The energy is INSANE. 

🎶I HURT MYSELF//SOMETIMES//IS THAT TO SCARY//FOR YOU🎶

Chanting the lyrics with Colson as if they are their own personal mantra. The line still kills Luna's insides for Colson. Hearing it shouted along with a few thousand people is intense. Her eyes well up as her heart hurts for every disenfranchised individual in her presence who personally relates to it. Self harm is a serious and scary thing.

The building EXPLODES when Dom comes running onto the stage. Surprised and ecstatic over his appearance. He slams through the chorus with Colson before stepping up solo.

🎶Roll me up//And smoke me love//We could fly//Into the night🎶

You can barely hear Dom over the sea of voices singing with him. It's incredible to watch. The sound of unity so powerful it could give anyone goosebumps.

Both Boys are off. Surfing on top of the thousands of people willing to hold them up. Not needing to sing because the room is doing it for them.

Making their way back to the stage, they round out the song together. Singing GoodNight at different times at different ranges.

Luna has to have Ashleigh check her make up as she wipes the tears from her cheeks. She needs to get her shit together to go back on by the time The Boys finish. The reaction to Colson and Dom's song being so raw, Luna couldn't help but find herself to be emotional. For as hardcore as Colson is, Luna knows he is truly the sweetest, most lonely boy ever. Sometimes it makes her so sad for him, wanting nothing more than to protect him from himself. How do you do that though?

"SEEEATOOOLLL!!!!!" Dom shouts "WE LOFE YOOOU!!!"

"FUCK YEAH, WE DO!!" Colson shouts with him as they stand side by side.

The Girls are moving around behind them. Setting up OnStage. They've decided to twist the fuck outta Seattle. Rook is still sat behind his kit as Baze hands Sam a bass guitar. Luna picking up the electric she had rehearsed with earlier as Tech places microphones and stands down for both her and Ashley.

"So, much that we cooked up this little rendition just for YOU!! KICK IT!!" Colson calls as him and Dom step aside.

Everyone within ear shot loses their fucking minds the minute Luna hits those first famous chords to Smells Like Teen Spirit. Rook and Sam knocking in hard behind her. Luna's warm voice snakes around the opening lyrics. She stays on beat but her voice is smoother and more trained than Cobain's while still holding his same haunting drawl.

🎼Loooad up on guns//Briiing your friends//It's fun to lose//And toooo pretend//She's over bored//And seeelf assured//Oooh no//I know//A dirty word🎶

Flipping the script, The Girls are covering Nirvana. Ashley stepping in as her and Luna croon together. Harmonizing like an intriguing mix of handcuffs and silk.

🎶Hello//Hello//Hello//Hoooow low//Hello//Hello//Hello//Hoooow low//Hello//Hello//Hello//Hoooow low//Hello//Hello//Hello🎶

Rook, Sam and Luna ripping into their instruments as Ashley let's her voice fly loose. Raw. Not caring to be perfect as she belts the lyrics fiercely.

🎶With the liiiights out//It's less dangerousss//Here we arrre nooow//Entertain uuuus//I feel stuuuupid//And contagiouuusss//Here we aaaare now//Entertain usss//A mulattooo//An albinooo//A mosquitooo//My libidooo//YEAH🎶

Luna slams into her guitar as her vocals slip in again. Matching up with Ashley as they use a flat tone.

🎶HEY//YAY🎶

Colson, Dom and Baze are setting themselves up SideStage. They're gonna follow them with a Bikini Kill song before The Girls fully finish.

The stage is shaking from the mosh pit happening just yards away from The Girl's feet. Luna and Ashley grin at each other. Regardless of personal feelings, it's a great fucking song. Luna hitting those significant chords on her guitar again as her voice wraps itself throughout the lyrics.

🎶I'm worse//Aaat what//I dooo best//And fooor this gift//I feeeeel blessed//Our littlllle group//Has alllways beeeeen//And alwaaaays wiiiill//Until the ennnnd🎶

Luna and Ashley hum through the Hellos and How Lows before Ashley comes in to wail through the chorus again. Her voice the perfect balance of clarity and rasp. Instruments floating around her impeccably.

🎶With the liiiights out//It's less dangerousss//Here we are nooow//Entertain uuuus//I feel stuuuupid//And contagiouuusss//Here we aaaare now//Entertain usss//A mulattooo//An albinooo//A mosquitooo//My libidooo//YEAH🎶

Rook, Sam and Luna pound through the slight jam session flawlessly. You can hear Luna's guitar whine out Hello continuously before Rook rumbles them down. Luna taking her place back at the microphone.

🎶And I fooorget//Just whyyyy I taste//Oh yeeeah//I guess//It maaakes me smile//I found it haaaard//It's hard to find//Oh well//Whaaateeverr//Neeverrrmiiiind🎶

Ashley and Luna harmonizing as they repeat Hellos and How Lows again before Ashley slays the chorus once more. Sending the audience into another physical frenzy along with Rook's drums. You can't hear neither Ashley nor Luna over the crowd as they scream over and over about A Denial with them.

Instead of fading out, Rook picks up his pace to a faster punk beat. It's kinda funny as Baze switches out with Sam. Dom with Ashley and Colson with Luna.

Colson snatching a quick kiss off of Luna before his deep voice alters the punk girl anthem. It's sound is harder and less poppy than the one The Girl's covered.

🎼That girl//Thinks she's the queeeeen//Of the neighborhood//She's gooot//The hottest trike//In toowwwn//That girl//She holds her head//Up sooo high//I think I wanna//Be her//Booyfriend//Yeah🎶

During rehearsal, Luna had shown Dom and Colson where to change up certain lyrics to fit the swap.... And also because she's a fucking cunt.

Dom hits the mic, nailing the chorus. Being in Seattle, most of the crowd is singing along with him.

🎶Rebel girrrrl//Rebel girrrrl//Rebel girrrrl//You are the queeeeen//Of my worrrld//Rebel girrrl//Rebel girrrl//I know I wanna//Take you home//I wanna take off//Your clothes//UNH🎶

---------------------------------------------------

Bikini Kill is one of Seattle's few surviving bands. Tobi Vale being the first girl Kurt Cobain was ever mesmerized by, crushing on her hard. As one of The Original Riot Grls, she had no time for the quiet blue eyed boy. The band's lead singer Kathleen Hanna making fun of him one night, writing Kurt Loves Teen Spirit on his bedroom wall in Olympia. It was a direct reference to Tobi's deodorant. His most famous hit being inspired by a girl who couldn't be bothered by him. How ironic. Courtney Love HATES Tobi Vale. Courtney Love HATES Smells Like Teen Spirit. Luna HATES Courtney Love. Being more of a Pixies fan, Luna never cared much for Nirvana. Even before his daughter became one of her bestfriends. Luna's lack of interest in her family being a great source of comfort to Frances. Her hatred for Courtney being born and growing naturally. Watching first hand how The Mother's selfish and self destructive behavior had affected Frannie through the long years of their friendship. Pissing Luna off more and more with every missteps. Playing the 90s theme song with Colson covering Rebel Girl beside it, IN Seattle, is the ultimate FUCK YOU to Courtney Love from Luna. It's also probably the ONLY time she's ever secretly hoped her performance will pop up on YouTube.

---------------------------------------------------

Making the song his along with Dom as Rook, Baze and AJ slaughter the quick paced, bass driven, punk tune with them. Colson's deep voice penetrates the next set of lyrics as he slams into his guitar.

🎶When she taaalks//I hear the revolution//In her hiiiips//There's revolution//When she waaaalks//The revolution's coming//In her kiiiiss//I taste the revolutiooonnnn🎶

Colson screams before Dom hits the chorus again. Each with their own Rebel Girl in mind throughout the song.

🎶Rebel girrrrl//Rebel girrrrl//Rebel girrrrl//You are the queeeeen//Of my worrrld//Rebel girrrl//Rebel girrrl//I know I wanna//Take you home//I wanna take off//Your clothes//UNH🎶

The Boys flow into the gnarly jam session. Rook's drums throbbing as AJ shreds relentlessly. If there's one thing Luna's learned tonight, it is that, THIS motherfucker can RIP.

Colson comes in again, leathery voice shouting out the strong, female positive lyrics. Luna did this on purpose. Switching up the two bands, she wanted the gender flip. Just like Nightmare. It's an important symbolism of feminism and equality. Being smart and lucky enough to fall in love with a man who has a daughter and shares her views.

Never a quiet man. Colson is known for not holding back from stepping up or speaking out for what he believes in. Standing solidly beside Luna, pushing for A Change, they WHOLE heartily believe it can happen. Or will die continuing to fight for Casie and her generation's sake.

🎶That girl//Thinks she's//The queeeen//Of the neighborhoooood//I got newwsss//For you//SHE IISSS//They say//She's a dyke//But I know//She iiissss//MY GIRLFRIEND//YEAH🎶

Colson and Dom come in together. As Colson slashes his guitar, he looks over at his friend. On instinct Dom turns to catch his eye. Grinning, they shout the chorus together. Both of their Rebel Girls standing behind them ready to take over.

🎶Rebel girrrrl//Rebel girrrrl//Rebel girrrrl//You are the queeeeen//Of my worrrld//Rebel girrrl//Rebel girrrl//I know I wanna//Take you home//I wanna take off//Your clothes//UNH🎶

Shifting slightly to the side, each boy steps from the mic. Releasing it to their partner. Colson's guitar tearing it's way up and down Luna's spine from behind. Without missing a beat Luna and Ashley take the last hook together. Female Empowerment being their overall Life Goal.

🎶Love you//Like a sister//Always//Soul sister//Rebel girl//Come and be//My best friend//Will you Rebel girl//I really like you//I really wanna be//Your bestfriend//Be my reeeeebel grrrrrrrllll🎶

As Rook and Baze fade them out, the room is uncontrollable. Seattle LOVES it's hometown hero's. Courtney Love does not fit into that category.

"That was killer..." Colson says lowly in Luna's ear as he kisses the back of her neck.

With her body flush, it's her duty to take the mic right now. Nuzzling her head back into him, she drops a low I Love You before hitting it.

"SEATTLE!!!!!" She shouts as she tries to calm her insides. "HOW ARE YOU?" She asks to their cheers. "We've got one more cover.... How many of you know of Andrew Wood and Mother Love Bone?" She asks.

Only half the nightclub answers her. She expected this.

"A little lesson in music history..." She smiles.

The crowd hoots out for knowledge. Loving the interaction as Luna strolls around the stage. Talking with her hands as she tells the story.

"Andrew Wood and Mother Love Bone were the pioneers of the Seattle scene." This is heard by a louder cheer and a grin on her face. "We lost him unfortunately... In '89. The remaining band took up Eddie Vedder and became Pearl Jam."

A mixed reaction fills the atmosphere. Some knowing the story. Some caught off guard.

"Hold on... Hold on... Hold on...it goes deeper." Luna shushes them.

She squats down on the middle of the stage. Continuing her story as Tech sets up behind her.

"Andrew Wood was Chris Cornell's bestfriend and roommate at the time of his death." This draws a sadness from the crowd. "I know, friends.... I know..." She sadly comforts them. "That's why were gonna play this next diddy. It is in honor of Andrew. Originally sang by Chris and Eddie....  I KNOW you'll know it when you hear it.... So when you do... You FUCKING SING!!!" Luna shouts to their erupting agreements.

Standing up, Luna grabs the electric she's been using. She begins to slowly pick the soft opening chords with Rook, Sam and Baze behind her.

By their reaction this time, Colson is pretty sure they've lost the roof. Watching his sea of family, he loves the way his woman speaks with them.

In Luna's opinion, Chris Cornell had the greatest voice of his generation. In her mind, there's more pressure to nail this upcoming song more than the prior. It's personal and the social relevance meaning more to her than the Top 40 Hit.

Luna starts them off, making everyone around them ooze with sentiment. Her strong, layered voice a smart match to represent Cornell.

🎼Well//I don't mind//Steealing bread//From the moooouths//Of decadeeeence//Hmmmmm//But I can't feeeeed//On the powerless//When my cup's//Already overfiiiiilled//Yeeeah//Mhhhm🎶

Luna's vocal range is both bold and delicate enough to hold it's own against the already emotional song. Allowing a tinge of pain to slip through her as she sings. The crowd joining her.

🎶But//It's on the taaable//The fiiire's cooookin'//And they're farmin' babies//The slaves are all woooorkinnn'//Blood is on the taaable//The moooouths//Are all chooookinnn'//But I'm goin' hungryyyyy//Yeeeeah🎶

Rook, Baze, Sam and Luna flip through the chords of the slightly dark melody. Colson's deep voice perfect as he steps up to the mic and takes on Eddie's verse. His family helping him as they sing along still.

🎶I don't mind//Stealing bread//From the mouths//Of decaaaaadence//But I can't feed//On the powerless//When my cup's alreadyyy//Overfiiiilllledd//Oh ohhhh//But//It's on the table//The fire is cookinnnnn'//And they're farmin' babies//The slaves are all wooorrrkin'//Annnnd//It's on the table//Their mouths//Are all choookinnnn'//But I'm going hungry🎶

Dom backs Colson. Wailing. AJ matches Sam with a second rhythm guitar as Rook bangs into his kit. Baze nailing the bass as Luna's fingers fly over the lead.

🎶I'm goin' hungrrryyy🎶

Ashley pops in with the next verse as Luna backs her. The crowd flowing with Luna and Ashley at different times.

🎶I'm goin' hungrryy🎶

🎶Oooohhh//I'm huuuungrrryyy AYYY🎶

Colson and Dom coming back in together at different times. All four voices stacking themselves on top of each other's along with The Band. As the crowd continues to sing along with them, it's anything short of amazing.

🎶I'm goin' hungrryy🎶

🎶I'm goin' hungrraaayyy🎶

🎶I'm goin' hugrrriiyyy🎶

🎶I'm goin' huuuungrAyAyAyyyy🎶

Dom and Ashley shift their voices together to continue singing about Goin' Hungry. Their vocals following together beautifully as the instruments rage behind them along with the voices of the audience.

Luna stepping in to take over Cornell's major part. Voice lacing around the lyrics of Not Minding Stealing Bread as she belts them. Ashley and Dom still behind her repeating separately how they're Goin' Hungry.

Colson's deep voice slides in to add another chapter of theft to the story as he sings beside Luna. Picking up the rhythm, Dom and Ashley drop out. Leaving Colson and Luna to play off each other's voices as they sing about Goin' Hungry.

🎶Oooohh//I'M GOIN HUNGRAAAAY AY YEEE🎶

Luna bellows alone one last time as Rook and her guitar lead them out. The Show Box BURSTS with hoots, claps and cheers as they end.

Grinning, Colson grabs Luna. As her guitar hits his chest hard, he doesn't care. With all the electricity flowing through him, he can't feel it. Only her lips. Breaking away from her, he turns to address the crowd.

"YO!!! GIVE IT UP AGAIN FOR MY GIRL, THAT BROOKLYN BITCH AND MY HOMIES YOUNGBLUD AND HALSEY!!!" Colson shouts to the volcanic club.

As Ashley and Dom head OffStage, Luna grabs her mic again. Always pushing.

"WE NEED CHAAAANGE!!!" She screams to the unshakable crowds agreement.

"She's so fucking cool...." Colson can't help the smile on his face as he watches Luna.

Grabbing one more kiss, Luna bounces OffStage. Meeting up with Ashley, Dom, Sam and Ashleigh, the three are still zipping with energy. Sam promptly passing Luna a joint as Ashleigh shouts that They Were Fucking INCREDIBLE. Luna can't help but beam as she holds the joint between her lips and grabs for a five people hug. Friendship really is a BEAUTIFUL thing.

The show's not even halfway through. Hollywood Whore kicking in next before Rap Devil and Until I Die. Switching spots with Rook as they cover Shout At The Devil.

It's honestly Luna's favorite cover of The Band's. Not even because of the song. As much as she loves Colson, she adores Rook and loves to see him shine the way he does when he takes the mic. His performance is so on point, you just KNOW he was raised with music in his blood. Even if you're unaware of where he hails from.

Still running, Colson grabs his guitar for his cover of Ocean Eyes. Catching Luna's as he sings. Both of their hearts swelling for the other over the reason he covered it.

Next comes a slew of more songs. Slim making his way back UpStage. Their friends watching SideStage as they get fucked up and sing along to Golden God, ALPHA OMEGA, Lately, Bad Motherfucker, Wake&Bake, Rehab and 27.

The lights drop to The Family's calls for an ENCORE. Loving them the way they do, The Boys oblige. Heading back out to encore Sail.

"THANK YOU, SEATTLE!!!!" Colson shouts before finally heading OffStage for the night.

-------------------------------------------------

Carrying Luna over his shoulder down the venue hallway, Colson sees the artwork of one of The Boys. Laughing, he turns Luna to see also.

"I bet it was Rook...." She guesses with a chuckle.

"Nah... Too short." He continues to laugh. "Grab my phone and post it to my Insta, please." Colson asks Luna.

Slipping her hand along his perky ass into his back pocket, she pulls out his phone. Snapping the picture at his request.

"Here.... You know I don't Instagram..." Luna deadpans as she hands the device to him from around the side of his lean body.

Laughing again, he shakes his head at her refusal to even interact with the app at all. Continuing to carry her to his dressing room as he posts it.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

"Always follow the signs.

😈👅💦🐈🍆💥"

#seattle #hoteldiablo"

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

"Holy SHIIIIT, Loons...." Colson groans out.

Laying his head back in delight as her tight pussy slowly slides up and down him. Teasing and pleasing his cock as she takes her time riding him. Colson takes her face into his large hands. Kissing her softly.

"Unnhh, I missed you...." He says as another grunt escapes him.

"Mmmm. Me tooo." She purrs.

Moving his mouth from her lips to her neck, Luna leans back, hands on his thighs as he seeks out her plump breasts. Sucking and nibbling on her piercings, Colson makes Luna shift against him faster. Rocking him deeper inside of her. She grabs the top of his hair. Pulling on it to keep her pace steady, he grabs and shakes her ass as it bounces.

"Mmmm... Gimme that dick." Luna moans.

Her demands excites Colson even more. Grabbing one hip firmly and snatching for her hair, he takes control. Sucking on her neck as he slams her up and down his cock. Moving her body like a willing doll. Making her walls clench and body quiver.

"My dirty girl likes that's... Hmm?" He says into her neck.

Luna can only utter sounds of pleasure as he fills her body. Feeling herself close, she starts to thrust into his rhythm. Colson pushes back, grabbing both of Luna's tits as they begin bucking against each other. Bitting the side of his neck, she makes him cum with her.

"Oooh, FUCK...." He shouts as they explode together.

Feeling his body go limp, Luna nuzzles into his naked chest. Kissing her forehead, they sit. The sound of the blood pumping through his heart synching up with her own.

Lifting her head, she asks him To Roll A Joint to his nod. Climbing off of him, Luna chops up her third set of rails today. Colson's fourth.

"What the fuck? I told you off your ass..." He teases as Luna looks at him perplexed. "You didn't get my voicemail?" He asks with a hint of disappointment as he lights the joint.

Luna shakes her head No as they bend down to do their lines together. Lifting up, she adjusts herself. Checking her nose and make-up.

Calling her voicemail as they pass the bone back and forth, Colson is definitely on there. Talking about porn and doing drugs off of her ass.

"And you say I'M WILD!!" Luna laughs as they head towards the door, looking over her shoulder coyly taunts. "There's always later."

Her words making Colson's member stand at full salute for her. Again.

---------------------------------------------------

Word Limit (2 of 3)

To be continued.....

❇Writer's Note: Feel free to share with whomever 😘

[whumptasticwednesday]

(Semi) Grown-Ass Man - (Peter Maximoff - X-Men: Dark Phoenix)

!!X-MEN DARK PHOENIX SPOILERS!!

Author’s Note: Hey, LividFigureSkatingLover (Ash) here! I hope you enjoyed the fic posted last week that Jimmy uploaded for me. That was actually something I’d written months ago but we felt like it would be an appropriate beginning fic. This, however, is a fresh fic that I started writing the day after Jimmy and I went to see Dark Phoenix on opening night. Needless to say, we were both disappointed with the critical lack of Peter in this movie. Like, you can’t just yeet your fan-favorite character into the sidewalk and have him carried off the jet in a stretcher without acknowledging anything! Anyways, next week will be Jimmy’s week to upload a fic, so you won’t see me for a while, but I can assure you my next fic is in the works. HINT: It’s addressing the critical lack of Dadneto in this film (although after that I think I’ll be done with the Peter fics for now.) Anyways, enjoy the fic! (This fic is also unedited so if you catch any errors, feel free to let me know!)

Word Count: 5749

It had all felt like an instant. One moment, the X-Men were emerging from their jet to bring Jean Grey home, the next, irreversible and horrific destruction. It all ended with Jean soaring into the sky and disappearing into the clouds with a distraught Scott and an angry and grief-ridden Hank on the asphalt. Charles slumped back into his chair and sighed. Nobody could have expected this. The crushed police cars and house smashed like a Popsicle stick craft project were just white noise to the heavy betrayal, anger, grief, and pain filling the atmosphere. The uncanny silence was only broken when Scott angrily shouted,"what the actual fuck are we supposed to do? Jean can't just, she didn't just, she wouldn't ha-"

"Damnit, Scott, can you shut your mouth for two seconds?!" Hank angrily seethed to the laser-eyed man. "You're not the only one standing here in the wake of Jean's unprovoked carnage. I don't think you can even begin to imagine how I feel right now... at least Jean's body isn't sticking out from a protruding wood spire"

Scott, being an impulsive young man, used every ounce of discipline in his reserve and resisted the strong urge to fire up an argument with Hank, and seconds after seeing Raven's impaled corpse, the fiery retort died on his lips, and it was instead replaced by a sudden realization as to the damage Jean had caused, emotionally and physically. The white noise of destruction was now a heavy screaming siren pounding in everyone's ears. Hank needed something to take his mind off of what had happened, losing his unrequited love due to a selfish impulse from one of his lifelong friends was too much for his mind to process at the moment. Since he couldn't do anything else, Hank did what he did best, took a calculated approach to fixing the catastrophe around him.

"We need to find Kurt and Peter. Scott, come help me... please," Hank trailed off as he turned away from Raven's lifeless body. "Charles, do something with her."

The cold and almost robotic tone from Hank was a sharp, almost eerie, contrast from the distraught tears that, only minutes ago, were streaming down his cheeks. Scott's mind, clouded by his own lovesick thoughts, followed Hank's orders on autopilot. Charles remained silent and observant as Scott and Hank trudged to the wooden remnants of Jean's childhood home in search of Kurt and Peter.

After what seemed like hours of precariously moving rubble and assorted wood pieces, Scott saw a mop of black and blue hair under a cracked 4x4.

"Hank, I think I found Kurt," Scott breathed a sigh of relief.

"Be careful, let's get all this off of him," Hank replied.

The two worked carefully and precisely until all of Kurt's body was exposed. His yellow uniform and his face were dusty and covered in grime and a small amount of blood. Hank gently tapped on the mutant teen's face as Scott hovered over his shoulder. Kurt didn't stay unresponsive for long though, and after a few of Hank's prods, he shot up off the floor with Jean's name fresh on his tongue, unaware of what had transpired after he'd been rendered unconscious.

"W-what? Jean, where's Jean? Is everyone okay?" the words fell out faster than Kurt himself could even process, and his mind hadn't quite caught up with the fact that he'd been crushed under the weight of an entire house.

"Kid, slow down. We'll explain later, okay? How do you feel? Do you know where Peter is?" Scott asked, questions firing faster than intended.

"No, I'm sorry. I can help you look for him though. Let me do something, I swear I'm fine." Kurt shot up off the ground, only to stumble into Scott's unprepared arms.

"Take it easy. Jean collapsed a house on top of you, I don't know how great you'll be functioning at the moment," Hank explained as Kurt nodded slowly with an exhausted and pained wince. "Alright, let's go find Peter."

Scott slung the lanky blue mutant's arm over his shoulder to support his weight as the trio began to search for the silver speedster. Since he moved so quickly it was hard to actually determine what Jean even did to Peter, as their confrontation lasted less than seconds to the average person's eye. The only thing Hank and Scott had seen was Peter being catapulted across the street and out of sight, so neither were all too excited to find out as to how he might be faring.

It took some time, but the three eventually stumbled upon Peter's battle-broken body lying slumped against a tree in a thick wooded area dozens of yards away from the street where Jean had wreaked havoc. Trailing his body was a coarse trail of uprooted grass and dirt, emphasizing the power and distance he'd been hurled across. Peter seemed almost as lifeless as Raven, his body heavily slumped against the tree he'd collided  with, blood streaking his X-Men uniform, face, and silver hair, along with dark dirt blotching his sweaty face, which was pulled up into a pained grimace. His signature goggles were loosely strung in his messily kept hair and one of the lenses was very visibly shattered, an ugly spider-like crack pronounced in the center of the lens.

"Oh my god, Peter!" Kurt let out a strangled cry as he laid eyes on his friend. He tried to stop the sobs as each one wracked his battered and sore body, but he couldn't. This was too much for him to bear.

As Kurt's sobs filled the forest, Hank ran his calculative eyes up and down Peter's body as his mind contemplated what would be the best course of action. He didn't want to risk worsening any external or internal injuries by jostling him in a carry to the jet, but he wasn't all too sure what help he could do with Peter out cold in the woods with no real medical assistance or tools around to help. As Scott tried to calm the ever panicked Kurt, Hank gingerly shifted Peter from his half-upright slumped position to lying flat on the ground. He ripped open the top of Peter's X-Men uniform and scanned the damage; bruises as black and blue as Kurt's hair dotted Peter's pale chest and his upper right shoulder. This wasn't going to be fun to deal with. Hank shot his eyes back to Peter's blood-stained face, hoping that tearing off his clothes would at least elicit some sort of response from the boy. Alas, nothing. As the seconds ticked by, Hank devised the one plan that would end in the least harm to all of them.

"Kurt, I know we're far away, I know you're tired, I know you're injured, but I need you to teleport us back to the jet. We can't move Peter like this, it's too risky, he's too badly hurt and I don't want to make this more painful for him than it has to be. You've gotta do this for us, okay?" Hank explained. He knew the kid's power took energy out of everyone he was teleporting, and with the damage eveyone'd sustained from the battle, it would be too dangerous to have Kurt warp multiple times, Peter wouldn't make it, and judging from his hazy eyes, Kurt didn't have enough energy for more than one teleport anyways.

Anxious scenarios began flooding Kurt's mind as his eyes filled with fear, the words he spoke dripping with self-doubt, "W-what if I can't? What if I mess it all u-up and I warp us halfway into a car and kill us all! H-hank, I can't do it."

Instead of coddling the boy like he normally would have, Hank let the dire situation speak for itself when he bluntly stated, "Kurt, I know you're scared, but Peter might die if we can't get him back to the jet. You've gotta take some faith in yourself and your powers and get us home, okay? Don't do it for me, do it for Peter. He needs you to do this for him."

It may have been the stern yet sincere tone of Hank's words, or hearing outright that Peter might die, but Kurt mustered up enough confidence to say, "alright... for Peter."

Hank shifted Peter into his lap as he joined hands with Scott and Kurt. Kurt silently prayed to God that he wouldn't kill all of his friends by pushing his ability's limits in an already weakened state, and with a last tension filled breath, the group disappeared into a dark cloud, appearing, seconds later, in the jet.

Scott felt extremely disoriented after the warp and his eyes raced around the jet before they landed on Hank's face, "shit. That felt weird."

"Indeed," Hank replied.

"I-I did it," Kurt sighed in relief as his eyelids fluttered closed and he collapsed onto the floor.

"Kurt!" Scott exclaimed.

"He's fine, just overexerted himself. He just needs to sleep for a bit and eat. This happened after his fight in Cairo too. Now hurry up and help me with Peter, he's not doing too hot," Hank explained as he set to work.

------

WOW A TIME SKIP...  At Xavier's School in the weird bunker area where they do X-Men stuff...

"He's still not up. You're gonna have to do something, Hank. He's gonna start healing and I don't think that his shoulder is gonna do it properly with the way it looks right now," Scott stated as he stared blankly at Peter's bloody and bruised body on the gurney.

Hank ran his fingers through his hair as he tossed his glasses onto the lab table. He didn't wanna set the joint without Peter being conscious, for fear he'd spring awake and cause himself even more harm if he took an instantaneous flight response. But, if he waited too long, Peter's enhanced healing would work against his favor and heal the crucial joint in the wrong way. He had to make a decision, and although it posed risks, it was better than Peter sustaining lasting joint damage.

Hank was just about to grab the limb to jerk it back into place when Peter shot up from the gurney with a blood-curdling scream of pure agony. Peter's eyes were hazy, confused, and full of pain as they raced around in search of what was going on and why everything hurt so bad. His eyes eventually met Hank's as he collapsed back onto the gurney, heaving heavy pained breaths into his cut and bruised chest.

"Hank, w-whass happenin, wha happened to me? E-everrythin's blurry and hurts," Peter slurred as tears unwillingly escaped the corners of his eyes. Throbbing, pulsing pain coursed through Peter's seemingly small frame as he started to unwillingly cry out of confusion and agonizing pain.

"Peter, you're at the X-Men base under the school. Jean threw you across the street with her powers and you hit a tree. You are safe and you're gonna be okay. I'm gonna help you, okay?" Hank said slowly to the shaken boy. Peter only gave a tiny pained nod as he bit his lip to try and stifle his crying.

"Can't we give him anything to numb the pain, like anesthesia or even ibuprofen? Setting the shoulder is gonna be excruciating for him," Scott asked, just wanting to lessen the agony for Peter.

"That's the thing, though. His fast healing and super speed are paired with an extremely quick metabolism. Anything we could give him in a normal person's dosage, he would burn right through."

"Can't we just give him a higher dosage?"

"If you wanna risk him overdosing, then sure."

Scott cast sympathetic eyes down onto Peter's terrified face, and although hidden by the signature ruby-lensed glasses, were full of sorrow as he fully realized what Jean had done. He felt nothing but pity for the pure fear and pain the boy was feeling. Peter's mind was racing back to when they had to set his broken leg and he didn't want to go through that again. He felt pathetic, a (semi)grown-ass man crying because he had to get a limb set. His sarcastic and dry-humored subconscious internally retorted: grow a pair!

"I'm sorry, Peter. We're gonna have to do this now. Bite this," Hank said as he dangled a rag above Peter's now bleeding lips. Peter grit his teeth and graciously took the cloth as the only thing to provide a semblance of comfort to the undoubted pain he was about to experience. "Alright, Scott, I need you to hold him down in case this goes South..."

Scott nodded in affirmation as he grabbed onto Peter's other arm and hovered above his already pretty immobile body while Hank took one more tentative glance over the silver-haired boy before locking eyes with Scott and clutching Peter's bicep in one hand and his shoulder blade with his other.

"Do you want me to count down?" Hank asked, knowing full well he would count to 3 but snap on 2. Peter nodded as he scrunched up his face with terrified anticipation, a visible layer of shining sweat collecting on his features. "Okay, one, tw-"

The last sound of 'two' was cut off by the cracking of a limb and Peter's howl and wailing cries of pure agony as he thrashed about violently on the gurney as Scott tried his best to gently restrain him without causing any more pain. Fat and ugly tears were freely streaming down Peter's face as the crippling pain in his shoulder coursed through his body and started to dull into an acute ache resonating from the base of his neck all the way down his bicep. His vision was blurred not only by his salty tears but by the waves of pain and adrenaline attempting to cancel each other out like an ocean current crashing into a reef bay. It was all a bit too much for Peter to handle. He went to curl in on himself, a primal instinct to go to the fetal position was shooting to his mind, yet when he tried, every dulled injury in his torso screamed back an affirmative and defiant: no!

Hank had sent Scott to get water bottles when he heard Peter's defeated and miserable whimper, which sent his own head whipping around to face the boy using his left arm to desperately clutch at his raw and tender torso, which was covered in dirt filled cuts and bruises that were attempting to heal over. Like any mutant power, there was a limit, and it was clear that Peter's advanced healing was taking on way more than it was able to handle, so his body's scattered attempts to heal his numerous external and internal injuries weren't doing him any favors besides exhausting him of what little energy he had.

"I'm sorry, Peter, I know you're in a lot of pain right now but I can't do anything for you but stitch up your major cuts and scan you for internal injuries. You know you can't have the regular pain medication," Hank stated, apprehension seeping into his every word as he ran his fingers through Peter's messy and unkempt hair that was now rifled with blood and sweat in an attempt to soothe the boy.

"I-I can't it... my c-chest," Peter stumbled through his attempted sentence, taking hasty and pinched wheezes instead of true breaths between his words. He was past humiliation at this point, any semblance of his normally sarcastic and fun-loving self was covered up by his embarrassment and indescribable pulsating torment wracking his body. Here he was, crying like a toddler while Hank of all people was petting his scalp, what an uncanny situation.

Scott returned moments later with extra towels and an armful of water bottles nestled hastily in his grasp. Much to Peter's dismay, Hank was terrified that Peter might choke if he stayed laying down, so his stitches and internal scan were going to be done upright. The simple shift in the gurney's position further aggravated the mysterious angry irritation in Peter's chest and sent him into a series of dry and forceful coughs, each one racking his exhausted body harder than the last. Peter never thought in a million years that the crack of the plastic seal on a water bottle would be so gratifying, yet here he was, face melting at the opportunity to soothe his parched esophagus and hopefully replenish at least some of his lost energy. Scott took to cleaning out Peter's minor injuries, starting the stitches, and helping him drink, while Hank was running a full body diagnostic on the silver-haired mutant. Peter's mind had slipped into a half-conscious yet fully-feeling feverish state where he wasn't really functioning, yet he knew what was happening. It took every ounce of his strength not to just pass out and sleep. He felt the tense prick of the needle every time Scott went back to further close up a gaping wound and he felt the ever present stare of Hank as he started running all his scans. The only time Peter came out of this hazy half-awake state was to drink that delightful and soothing water. Compared to every other sensory input, the water felt like heaven in the fiery depths of hell. The soothing liquid ran down his arid windpipe and seemed to address his every need, until it hit his stomach and he was met with a discomforted static strain in his abdomen. It was uncomfortable, sure, but didn't seem like it needed to be addressed, so Peter plastered on his bravest face (still kind of failing though) as he lightly furrowed his brow and drew his knees up closer to his chest, despite the protest of his aching (and presumably broken) ribs. Scott noticed, as did Hank, but neither thought too much of it as they continued with their busy work. Again, none of them were prepared as to what would happen next.

Fifteen minutes later, just as the diagnostic's results were finishing up, Peter's slight discomfort had warped into a stabbing and indescribable pain as he was wracked with waves of thick and heavy nausea. Scott was almost done with tying off the last gash on Peter's injured arm when he jerked violently to the side and began projectile vomiting, the only thing arising from Peter's forceful heaving being sticky yellow bile and an alarming mix of blood. Each unproductive heave was followed up by another wave of sickening nausea, which was followed up by another (usually successful) upchuck of fluids. Peter was running out of breath, strength, and stomach contents to empty as he grasped desperately to Scott's arm and his own horribly aggravated abdomen.

"Oh, Peter! Oh my god! Hank, what do I do?!" Scott yelled  frantically as he reached to hold back Peter's long and uncontrolled hair as the latter's body faltered over into another bout of wheezy heaving. Scott, however, was not expecting to have his hand be met with an alarming heat that seemingly radiated off of Peter's forehead. He touched his hands around the rest of Peter's face and his neck during a calm period of the heaving and Hank took the opportunity to hastily place a trashcan between Peter's legs to lessen the contortion his body had to do in order to avoid vomiting his own bodily fluids onto himself. "He's got a bad fever. Is this from th-"

"It's because his body's working too hard to handle everything happening to it," Hank cut him off  "It doesn't know where or when to start or stop and it's confused. He needs fluids to replenish his energy, especially after throwing up every ounce of water you just gave him. We're probably going to have to administer an IV."

The large technologically advanced screen in front of him blinked and beeped, signifying that the diagnostic was finished. At a speed that only Peter could best (at full health), Hank pulled up the imaging and was met with two giant glaring orange marks on an overall blue scan; those being 3 fractured ribs and some sort of internal injury on Peter's stomach lining. Oh my god, Hank thought to himself before nearly shouting to Scott, "He's internally bleeding in his stomach, that's why he vomited. That's why there's so much blood... " Hank took a second to calculate what to do. "We need him hooked up to an IV, NOW. Go get me the supplies."

Scott didn't even nod as he scrambled to his feet and dashed off to find what Hank needed. Peter himself was almost completely unconscious at this point, the high fever , empty reserves of strength, and overwhelming pain from every inch of his body were the perfect trio of unbearable feelings were one stroke away from completely pulling him under a fitful blanket of unconsciousness. He was just about to pass the brink and into the darkness when he felt the abrupt patting of Hank dabbing a soaked rag across his face and the dripping of cool water down his neck. The next thing he felt was the forceful jab in his arm and the strange dull feeling of the unknown slowly overtaking him. His spotted vision gave way to darkness as everything faded away.

"Peter? Damnit, he passed out. It's fine, we just need to keep him stable. I don't know how sustainable this is going to be for him. His body is gonna churn through this fluid faster than a toddler sips a juice box, but it's better than nothing," Hank sighed. And for the first time since Peter had awoken, the room filled with an unsettling complacent silence, the only other thing occupying the space being the exhausted pants from Hank and Scott, accompanied by Peter's tight and wheezy breathing.

------

WOW, ANOTHER TIME SKIP... At relatively the same location we were earlier, but like, a day later...

"Ughh..." Peter groaned. Unlike the previous day's events, though, was brought out less by discomfort, and more from boredom. He fidgeted anxiously with a loose thread on his pants while Hank swapped out his IV for what seemed like the thousandth time between the last 24 hours. "When can I get up and you know" Peter gestured abruptly with his hands "go."

"Give it a few more days, Peter. I know your mind is saying that it wants to get up and run 5 laps around the earth, but your body isn't ready for it. You're still running a temperature, your arm isn't going to be in full shape for a while, you might need physical therapy, the ligaments were pretty screwed up, and I don't want you aggravating your ribs or your stomach just yet," Hank insisted as Peter rolled his eyes. The speedster, despite knowing he wasn't nearly ready to be up and flying across rooms at the speed of sound, wanted to be productive. Part of his motivations for being up and at it was also the fact that he wished to hide his immense shame from the relented sob-fest that was yesterday evening by (like how Peter dealt with most of his problems) running until he couldn't feel his legs or until he couldn't give a damn and cared about nothing except the blurred scenery around him. However, it was hard to do either of those things when you were confined to a gurney in a bunker with an IV drip tethered to one arm and a sling on another.

As Hank left the room,  Peter was met by yet another sickening silence, this time, the only thing filling the room was his growing sense of wanting to be productive and just run, but alas, he couldn't. Having just slept for a sizable amount of the day, Peter was just itching for some entertainment, but being stuck in an empty room with no such objects to scratch that itch, he was growing irritable.

Little did the silver-haired mutant know that another certain lanky teleporting teen was standing right outside the door to his room in the medical bay, working up the courage to rebel against Hank's firm: "no, he needs to sleep" statement that Kurt was met with when he asked if he could go and visit his friend. Not being one to break many rules, Kurt was apprehensive about entering, hence his (kind of silly) minor internal dilemma. Mustering up enough courage, Kurt warped inside the room, where he was met with a "Jesus Christ!" from Peter. Kurt, startled by the shout, stumbled backwards and fell. From his position on the ground, he let out a shy,"hi, Peter. How are you feeling?"

"God, dude, you scared the shit out of me. Give a man a warning before you teleport into his private room where he's being held captive against his will next time!" Peter answered, sarcasm dripping in every syllable.

Kurt, being known to take nearly everything extremely literally, responded,"Has Hank been corrupted!? What has he done to you Peter? Do I need to tell the professor that Hank's gone mad, or is it all one big conspiracy?!"

"Whoa there, chill. As much as I'd like the added spice in life that a Hank-and-Charles-gone-mental plot would provide, I think it's safe to say that they're pretty sane... for now."

"Alrighty then. Well, I've come against Hank's wishes to keep you company, what do you want to do?"

"Hank wants me to suffer and die alone? What a traitor!" Peter grabbed at his chest, feigning heartbreak, wincing as his attempt at humor irritated his cracked ribs.

"I doubt that is true. I believe that the correct term to describe your behavior would be a drama queen."

"You'd be correct, buckaroo. Would you mind zipping to my room and grabbing my Walkman and my GameBoy?"

"Um, no problem," Kurt replied as he disappeared in a dark cloud.

Mere moments later, he reappeared with the music player and the gaming device. Peter eagerly reached out for both devices, acting like a hyperactive toddler who'd just been offered a lollipop. Although, the hyperactive toddler description wasn't too far off from Peter's personality normally. The plastic shells of both items were like comfort food and finally brought some form of distraction besides twiddling his thumbs for hours on ends or watching that 'maybe-speck-of-dust-maybe-spider' dance along the bright walls. He switched on his music and popped in an earbud, offering the other to a tentative looking Kurt.

"Dude, you've gotta try this. Please don't tell me Scott's scared you off from American music with his pansy-ass music," Peter insisted as he spun the earbud with his unslinged hand.

"It's not that... it's just, your music, in particular, has, on several occasions, shaken the entire school," Kurt replied as he took the listening device.

"It's called a 'jam session', Kurt," Peter explained as he used very visible air quotes to emphasize his point.

"Alright, if you insist," Kurt sighed as the guitar rifs and crashing of drums filled his pointed ears. He wasn't the hugest fan of all of Peter's loud rock or the deep heavy beats of Scott's rap, but he sat there regardless to try and enjoy a quiet moment with his friend. Moments like these were becoming harder and harder to come by as their world seemed to get even more hectic. The mutants had assumed that the battle in Cairo would have been the worst of it, it sure felt like it at the time, but now they were facing a new evil, one of their friends. Kurt really wanted to talk to Peter about it, maybe even break the news that Raven died, but he felt too timid, and compared to Peter's bold and audacious personality, he felt like nothing. Peter stopped his headbanging for a moment, and that sliver of time was long enough to notice the semi-uncharacteristic silence from the shy yet friendly Kurt, who was awkwardly staring at Peter's feet, caught in an apparent distracted trance, all headed by the semi-somber and contemplative look plastered on his face. Peter clicked the pause and the cassette stopped rolling. This seemed to snap Kurt out of his trance, and the new silence was quickly filled by Peter.

"You got a toe fetish or something? I mean, I know I'm incredibly sexy, but I didn't know you were into that, Kurt. Jeez!" he teased. Kurt just drew his knees up to his chest and shrunk up his neck to try and hide; whether he was hiding from embarrassment of having a strange sexual trigger or something else on his mind was completely beyond Peter's thoughts.

"You never answered my question..."

"What question?"

"How are you feeling. When we went to try and stop Jean, she crushed me with her house, and I couldn't help at all. I felt useless. It... sucked. And then, Scott and Hank dug me out of the rubble and we went to find you. You looked..." Kurt started choking on his own words, scared he'd start crying. Peter felt a strong urge to make another joke about his 'very undoubtedly sexy' body to finish the sentence, but he wanted to hear him finish. He knew Kurt was going somewhere serious when the German boy used the word: sucked, it didn't seem like something in his vocabulary, much less like a word he'd willingly use unless he really felt like he needed to. "I saw you there, laying on the ground, covered in dirt, bleeding everywhere, with this horrible, agonized expression on your face, just... stuck there. I'm so used to you smirking, laughing, or doing that weird thing where you raise your eyebrows up and down after you are sarcastic or make a joke, and to see you like that, still and sad, I just cried. I was terrified that you were already dead. I've never seen you sit still on your own for more than 5 minutes. Even after the fight in Cairo when you had your entire leg broken and in a cast on crutches, you were still smiling, animated as ever. I don't know how you do it, Peter... you're always so happy. I mean, I try, but I can't help but be..."

"Scared?"

"Yeah." For a few moments, the room was silent, seemingly becoming a common theme, and yet again, it did not last long.

"Hahaha..."

"Peter, are you... laughing?"

"You've got me all wrong, Kurt. I may be an impatient wiseass, but don't get me wrong, I've got plenty of moments in my backlog where I felt like I was gonna piss myself. You were talking about after the Cairo fight?" Kurt nodded "Well, during that fight, I went in, guns a blazin', ready to beat the shit out of this weird edgy blue raisin lookin' guy, yet a few seconds later, I'm getting my arm twisted way further than it's supposed to and my leg getting completely fucked up. In that moment, I was sure I was going to die. Had it not been for Raven and Erik, I probably would have."

Kurt gnawed his bottom lip and curled further in on himself at the mention of Raven. Peter didn't know. He doubted Hank would have brought up his resented heartbreak to the seemingly immature speedster. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him; Would the timing be appropriate? Would he be able to handle the weight of the loss? Peter'd even said that Raven had been a massive inspiration to him when he was younger on the jet where they had their first real conversation. It'd be hard to swallow the pill that one of your friends had been possessed and just murdered your childhood hero while recovering from blunt trauma. It all made Kurt's head spin and ultimately, he decided against it.

"Sorry to get all deep and edgy on ya. I didn't want you waltzing around screeching about my fearlessness or something, I don't know." Peter shrugged as best as he could before whipping out his GameBoy and waving it in Kurt's face.

"Umm, I don't understand what this is. It looks like a plastic box. Does this one also play music?"

"Naw, this is one of those cool new things from Japan. It's a handheld gaming device."

"Oh. So it's like the large arcade machines... but smaller?"

"Yeah, it's pretty bangin'. I've got Super Mario Land in the slot now, wanna try?"

"Yes!" Kurt took the device from Peter and was about to dive in when he tentatively asked "Umm, Peter? What is the objective?"

"You get the tiny man with the hat from the left to the right and eventually you'll find a lady and win. I guess even minuscule pixelated dudes need a babe," Peter joked. However, Kurt was already encapsulated in the tiny, unlit screen, a little beep going off every time he made the character jump. Peter watched with amusement as he resumed his mixtape with one earbud in, the other listening to the whirring air conditioner and the GameBoy's clacking buttons.

Content with his friend's newfound excitement and ease of mind, Peter felt his eyelids growing heavy and his breaths growing slower and deeper without any conscious feeling of pain with the intake of oxygen. And finally, without any thoughts of his dislocated shoulder, unsolved father-related problems, or his red-haired, newly space-fart-possessed, destruction causing friend, he drifted off to sleep with a content, comfortable, and very quicksilver-y smirk plastered on his face

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #18

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Wes and David (Born This Way) 

“...and that is why I think it’s a good idea for the Warblers to help me serenade Kurt -- it is a good send off, and a way to show our solidarity and support for a now former member of the team.”  

Wes and David exchange knowing looks.  It’s not unexpected that Blaine would be standing before them, again, asking to use the Warblers for his own personal agenda -- even if Blaine didn’t realize this is what he’s doing.  It’s not like either of them mind all that much, either.  After their loss at Regionals, any performance feels like a good performance.  But as they’ve talked it over with one another on many occasions over the past year - their concern for Blaine has only grown.  

“Blaine,” Wes says, with an unintentional heaviness to his voice.  Blaine almost looks panicked, biting his lip, brow furrowed with worry.  Blaine’s usually so full of confidence, it’s almost strange to see him like this.  “I--” he stops himself and smiles over at David.  “We’re not against the concept of performing, even if it’s outside our normal parameters.”  

Blaine quickly jumps in before he can speak further. “If you’re concerned about the Warblers singing on the New Directions’ turf, I assure you any rivalries stop now that we’re no longer in competition, and I would like to think my newfound relationship with Kurt would only strengthen the concept that opposing show choirs could still remain on civilized terms with each other.” 

David cuts him off with a laugh.  “No, we’re not worried about that.  We’re concerned, well, more about you.” 

“What?” Blaine looks genuinely confused.  

“Over the past few months, you’ve claimed to be in love with a guy from The Gap, dated a girl, and then started this new relationship with Kurt,” Wes points out.  “It feels a little....erratic.”  

“Uh, didn’t you guys have a betting pool as to whether or not Kurt and I would begin a relationship?” Blaine pushes back.  

“You do this, though,” Wes says, his face falling into concern.  “You jump into these things with both feet, and before you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, you seem to not know how to get yourself out.”  

“We just care about you, man,” David adds.  “And we like Kurt -- we really do.  Even if it pains us to hear of his decision to return back to McKinley.  He’s a good kid.  But you are our friend, and you are the one we want to make sure is making good decisions and not using us to further your impromptu romantic whimsies.”  

Blaine seems to redden at the thought, but he doesn’t seem to be backing down.  “I’m not sure I can express how much I care about Kurt.  This doesn’t feel like that guy from The Gap or whatever experiment Rachel Berry was.  He is… my whole world.  And all that I want to do is make his life easier in any way that I can.  I am not trying to use the Warblers to achieve my own end.  I just… don’t know how to express how I feel and singing it just feels easier than the words I can’t articulate.” 

Wes and David exchange worried looks again.  Maybe this does seem different from Blaine’s earlier romantic exploits.  Maybe they have privately agreed that Kurt, while a different breed than anyone at Dalton, is an invigorating change for Blaine.  But Blaine continually puts his heart out there time and time again.  And they just don’t know Kurt well enough to make sure Blaine’s pure intentions wouldn’t be reciprocated at the same level.  They would never want Blaine to be crushed… especially after the whole Gap debacle.  

“I--we don’t doubt your feelings, Blaine,” Wes says.  “But have you considered -- Kurt is leaving for another school.  If the roles were reversed, would he do the same for you?” 

Blaine looks down.  “I am happier than I ever have been.  I know he is, too.  We don’t have to express that happiness in the same way for it to be true.”  They both note the tiny hint of doubt creeping into Blaine’s words.  

“What song were you planning on doing?” David asks.  

“Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know.” 

David, amused, bites his lip, oh Blaine… 

“You really want a redo of Candles, don’t you?” Wes mutters.  David kicks him from underneath the table.  “I mean, it’s a rather heavy song.”  

“Well, this is a good-bye from...the Warblers, to Kurt,” Blaine says, collecting his confidence again.  “And if you want to say something, say it big.”   

“Yes, but our relationship is ending on friendly terms, not melancholy ones,” Wes points out.  

“It’s how I feel,” Blaine goes inward again.  “It’s more personal, I suppose. But it--it works.  It works for what I’m trying to say.”

“And what is it that you’re trying to say?” Wes presses.  

Blaine doesn’t answer, only looks to the floor.  Does he even know?  They have their reservations, but neither Wes nor David want to be the ones to crush Blaine’s spirits.  Besides, this is good for the Warblers -- to get out there and perform more.  There aren’t many reasons not to do it.  But still, they hope that Kurt Hummel understands that Blaine is more than a cute guy with a great voice.  There’s something very special about Blaine, and they don’t want to see him held back by his own fantasies.  

Wes and David take another moment to confer with each other - the two of them being friends long enough to understand each other’s nonverbal cues.  It’s been decided.  “Well, okay then, Blaine, we’ll trust your judgment,” Wes says.  

“The Warblers will sing for Kurt Hummel at McKinley as a good-bye send off,” David adds.  

“Fantastic,” Blaine says, snapping automatically into his cheerful and energetic self.  “So, I have a few ideas…” 

[mollyellee]

the view from here (blaine/sebastian)

Kurt is still smiling, “Yeah? You want me to stay?”

Yes, please stay because if you don’t, I’ll do something I’ll regret.

Yes, but please go so I can jerk off to the memory of someone who’s not you.

Blaine can feel his heart being torn in two: between Kurt, the boy he thought was his destiny, and Sebastian, the boy he barely knows, but always leaves him wanting more. Every moment that passes, he knows it’s less and less of a choice.

Written for Seblaintine Bingo! I used card 1, column 2 (Quiet, Flurries, Skin on Skin, Stars, Tea). The fic is divided into 3 parts and the designated prompts are listed at the top of each part. I also wrote it as a (somewhat) sequel to “when the curtain falls) which is located here, so I would recommend reading that first if you haven’t already. This fic can be read as a stand-alone, but some of the references/callbacks might not make sense if you haven’t read WTCF. Enjoy! And thanks again to @seblaineaffairs for another great challenge!

i. Flurries and Quiet

They don’t have sex. And Blaine thanks God because the second Kurt would’ve reached for his belt, he would’ve seen nothing underneath. And the questions would’ve started. Questions Blaine isn’t sure he can answer yet, even if he wanted to. They do spend the night together though. Once Blaine arrives at Breadstix, Kurt apologizes for how awkward things have been and stays glued to Blaine’s side all night. He says he knows that sex won’t just magically fix all of their problems, so he suggests just spending the night together. Blaine’s parents are out of town until the following morning, and Kurt can tell his dad he accidentally fell asleep at the after party. The night should feel peaceful. Blaine should be comforted by the boy in his bed, exhaling quietly, cuddled into his side, nuzzling into his neck. He just finished a loud show, he should relish the silence. Instead, it’s deafening. All he can hear is Sebastian’s salacious suggestions, running through his mind all night long. The events play back and no matter how he tries, nothing will replace them. When the morning comes and the light shines through his bedroom window, he makes a show of stretching and yawning, hoping to jostle Kurt from his deep slumber. It works, Kurt stretches in response and smiles up at him. “Hey you, what time is it?” Blaine smiles back, hoping he looks sincere and not terrified, “Just past 8.” Kurt groans, “Guess I should probably be heading home. I’m sure my dad will be checking in on me soon.” Kurt leans up to kiss Blaine before getting out of bed and getting dressed. Blaine sits in a daze for a moment before realizing he should follow.  He throws a T-shirt over his head and slips on his boxers as Kurt gathers his things. The two of them make their way down the stairs and when they're at the front door, Kurt turns around and rests his back against it, smiling at Blaine dreamily. “I had a really great night.” Blaine forced a smile on to his face that he hopes comes across as reassuring, “Me too, wish you didn’t have to go.” Kurt is still smiling, “Yeah? You want me to stay?”

Yes, please stay because if you don’t, I’ll do something I’ll regret.

Yes, but please go so I can jerk off to the memory of someone who’s not you.

“I do, but your Dad will kill me if you stay much longer,” Blaine says with a little laugh, leaning in to kiss Kurt on the cheek as he opens the front door. Kurt pulls his coat closer to him and kisses Blaine back, this time on the lips, and replies. “I love you.” The rock in Blaine’s throat drops to his stomach, but he responds, “Love you too” as the door shuts. And then suddenly the house is quiet. Too quiet. Blaine is filled with all this pent up energy as he paces the downstairs foyer of his parents house. He tries to distract himself with tv, with games on his phone, but nothing does the trick. So he does the very last thing he should do.

He sends a text. 

Come over. He is so shocked by his own behavior that he throws the phone across the couch like it’s going to bite him. He falls face down, groaning into a pillow. He should just act like he fell back asleep, sent the text to the wrong person. That’s what he’ll do, claim he meant to text Kurt. Sebastian doesn’t know he was just here. So he reaches over to respond to the text, but the second he opens the message, there’s a response.

Good morning to you too.

Blaine freezes. He can’t help it, he wants to know what Sebastian’s going to say next.

Are you alone?

Blaine bites his lip just thinking about the boy on the other end of the phone, just waking up, hair sticking out every which way, most likely naked and fuck. He tries to distract away from the situation with humor. No, my parents are waiting to meet you before they agree to give you my hand in marriage.

He can’t hear it, but Sebastian is chuckling to himself in bed. And looking around for his keys, his wallet, his clothes. Blaine lies back down on the couch and closes his eyes. Minutes pass like hours. He doesn’t know if he’s waiting for the doorbell to ring or for Sebastian to fall back asleep so he can forget this whole thing ever happened. And then the phone dings again. Jesus it’s cold as fuck out here. Think it might snow.

Blaine goes to the front window and peeks outside. Sure enough, a few flurries are falling from the sky.  He responds, maybe too quickly.

Well hurry up and get over here so I can warm you up. He doesn’t want to sound as desperate as he feels, but he’s quite certain that’s exactly what’s happening. But the damage has been done so all he can do now is watch the snow fall from the sky, and wait. ... By the time the doorbell rings, the snow is still falling and Blaine’s heart is still racing. And then he opens the door. And his heart stops. Sebastian is standing there in a light black coat, and the snow is sticking to his hair, his shoulders, his gloves. He looks like a goddamn angel when they both know he’s anything but. In another world, where things weren’t so irrevocably fucked up, Blaine could surge forward, kiss the sweet taste of the snow off of Sebastian’s lips and drag him upstairs to his room. As things stand now, all he can do is breathe out, “Come in, its freezing.” Sebastian rushes in and shuts the door, smirking as he replies, “Well yeah, especially for someone who isn’t wearing pants.” Blaine doesn’t know what he’s thinking, trying to seduce this boy who is not his boyfriend. He doesn’t even seduce his own boyfriend, that’s what got him here. But he tries to play it cool, act like Sebastian’s comment doesn’t have him reeling. He points to the bottle in Sebastian’s hand, “What’s that?” Sebastian raises it proudly, “A little Courvoisier for our coffee since I didn’t get to have any before this little booty call.” “I...this isn’t,” Blaine is stumbling over his words. He didn’t expect Sebastian to call his bluff so quickly, but then he thinks, as long as he’s known Sebastian (which really hasn’t been long at all), he’s never been shy about saying what’s on his mind. “Hey, doesn’t bother me,” Sebastian replies with a smirk.

Blaine follows like a pathetic puppy dog as Sebastian heads to his kitchen and rummages through the cabinets looking for coffee mugs. He finds two plain blue ones, and instantly spots the French press on the counter. He hums in approval and goes to work making coffee for the two of them. Blaine just sits on the barstool at the kitchen island and watches, every move made with purpose: to tease Blaine, leave him wanting. And god damn does it work. When Sebastian’s finished, he turns around, sliding one cup across the counter to Blaine and keeping one for himself. He easily takes a large drink and watches as Blaine raises the cup to his lips. Blaine’s drink is much smaller than his, but he can tell the second the alcohol hits his throat. Blaine coughs lightly, although he tries not to show it. Sebastian laughs and Blaine instantly glares as he puts the cup down. “Sorry that some of us didn’t grow up in Paris,” he mumbles defensively. Sebastian moves around the kitchen island smoothly and carefully, like a jaguar stalking its prey.  Blaine can barely understand how he ends up in front of him, how Sebastian coaxes his legs open so that he’s standing in between them. Sebastian reaches over, takes another large swallow of his coffee and instantly bends down to kiss Blaine. He slides his tongue inside effortlessly and Blaine practically shivers at the sweet mix of coffee and Courvoisier on his tongue. They stand there in the quiet of the kitchen, Blaine reaching his hands around Sebastian’s waist to hold him in place as they kiss. When Sebastian pulls away, Blaine finds himself chasing the kiss and when he opens his eyes, there’s that self assured smile again. “Easier to swallow that way?” He’s talking about the alcohol but there is so much more that Blaine is having trouble swallowing. This is so different than who he’s ever been. But he also doesn’t want it to stop. And when they talk, it stops. Blaine prefers the quiet, when it’s only the two of them connected and he doesn’t have to think about anything but how good Sebastian makes him feel.  He reaches down for his cup and drinks quickly until everything is gone. He can still feel the burn in his throat, but Sebastian’s eyes are blazing hotter than anything, and he knows he can’t wait any longer. “Let’s go upstairs.” There’s no desperation in Sebastian’s movements, he simply grabs the bottle and lets himself be guided up the stairs. As soon as they get to Blaine’s room, he shuts the door behind him and Blaine backs him up against the door, effectively pinning him there. “So that bashful schoolboy thing? Just an act?” Sebastian has to know if this wild streak has always been inside Blaine or if he is the inspiration. He thinks it’s the latter, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling pretty proud of that. “Can you ever just be quiet?” Blaine is frustrated in more ways than one, “I like it better when you’re quiet.” “That’s funny because I think I’d like you better loud.” Blaine surges forward, “Oh my god just shut up and kiss me already.” The second their lips press together Blaine feels the sparks from the previous day all over again. When he opens his mouth to allow Sebastian’s tongue to enter, he can still taste the bittersweet flavor of the coffee and the alcohol. It’s intoxicating. When they break apart for air, Blaine takes a deep breath, tries to calm his racing heart, “I have...absolutely no clue what’s happening here. This is so wrong.” Sebastian drags his lips away from Blaine’s, leaves soft pecks along his jaw, moves behind his ear, “Why?” Blaine stills in Sebastian’s grip, pushes back from him just slightly, “What do you mean, why?” Sebastian stops what he’s doing, stares deep into Blaine’s eyes, “You feel good, don’t you?” With Sebastian so close to him, Blaine feels like he can feel every hair on his body standing up. He breathes out, “Yes.” And then he realizes, Sebastian’s next question could be anything and he would say yes. Sebastian could reach down, pull down his zipper and slide his hand inside and he would say yes. He could strip Blaine naked, roll him onto his stomach and lick into him until he cried and Blaine would say yes. Yes, you can be my first. Yes, you can have me. When he snaps out of his daydream, Sebastian is leaning forward, ready to kiss him again, and Blaine is just about to give in when he hears it. “Blaine, we’re home! You awake?” He practically whimpers, not because his parents are home and there’s a strange boy in his bedroom, but because it means that boy now has to leave. Sebastian puts a finger to his lips as he hears his mom go, “He must still be asleep. He could’ve cleaned up these dishes before he went to bed.” He prays his mom doesn't smell what’s in Sebastian’s cup, doesn’t march right upstairs and ask why Blaine is putting liquor in his coffee. Sebastian leans back down again and whispers into his ear, “See you soon, killer.” And then like that, he is gone, sneaking out the window and scaling down the side of Blaine’s house like it’s not the first time he’s done this. And as Blaine watches him from the window, he knows, not so deep down, that it is far from the first time for Sebastian. He groans, walking over and falling back on the bed, determined to relegate his bad behavior to a bad dream. But as his eyelids fall closed, he can see the snow sparkling through his open window and he can’t help but think that it’s only the second most beautiful thing he’s seen that day. ii. Skin to Skin and Stars Blaine tries everyday to act like his stomach isn’t doing flip flops when he walks down the hall hand in hand with Kurt, that it doesn’t feel wrong to be skin to skin with his boyfriend. When his friends ask who he’s texting, it’s always someone else. With Tina, he’s texting Sam. With Sam, he’s texting Kurt. He’s a fraud. And it should just end. He has a huge math test to study for so he tells Kurt that he’s going off the grid, not answering texts or phone calls no matter how much he begs. And he fully intends to stick to that. Until the phone dings. He knows it can’t be Kurt, he respects Blaine’s boundaries. Plus, the second Blaine told him he would be busy, he instantly planned a girls night with Rachel. He’s praying he’s wrong. Please be Kurt, he silently begs. Come over.

Decidedly not Kurt. Fuck. Why did he look? He needs to focus on his test. Just a quick text to make it go away. I’m studying.

Almost instantly the replies come through. Well, stop. Come meet me at Dalton. Lacrosse fields. Under the stars. From anyone else, the gesture would be romantic. Sweet. I can see the stars from my window Yes, but can you see this from your window? And then a picture comes through of Sebastian shirtless, flaunting in his bathroom mirror. Blaine rolls his eyes but his eyes linger for longer than they should. He wants to touch, to feel Sebastian’s abs shudder under his fingertips. He’s desperate to feel his skin, to taste it. He tries to remember, Sebastian is no good. He probably has backups in case Blaine doesn’t answer. And exactly how many boys did you just send that to?

There’s a pause and Blaine feels like a fool. And then the response comes.

One.

Blaine’s breath hitches in his throat. But Sebastian has one more card to play.

I want you, Blaine. Come over.

Blaine can only remember one time when Sebastian called him by his first name, and it was that night on the side of the stage, the one he can’t get out of his head no matter how hard he tries. He can’t decide if he’s being played or if he’s different. If Sebastian wants to let him in. Tonight, he finds he doesn’t much care. Okay. I’m coming.

Not yet, but you will be.

And if he didn’t have the proof of it right there on his phone, Blaine would swear that moment of sincerity had never existed at all. He grabs his keys and leaves the same way Sebastian did before, not wanting his parents to ask questions about where he’s going. For Sebastian, practice made perfect, he was able to climb out onto the ledge outside of Blaine’s window and slide down with ease. As soon as Blaine gets outside, he regrets his decision. He almost slips on the tiles outside his window and he thinks that would be just great for his parents to discover him on the front lawn with a broken ankle on the way to cheat on his boyfriend. He blocks that last part out of his mind, he needs to concentrate. He manages to sit down on the ledge and slide down. He falls somewhat clumsily on the ground, but no limbs are injured so he considers it a win. He walks a little ways down the road and pulls out his phone to get an Uber; he would take his own car, but doesn't want his parents to see. Those are questions he still can’t answer, and he doesn’t plan on facing them tonight. When the car arrives, he offers up the destination and adds, “My brother goes to school there.” He doesn’t know why; money is money and Dalton Academy isn’t a particularly conspicuous place to go.

Except he does know why. The real reason is something he can’t admit out loud to anyone.

It’s a short journey, but enough time for Blaine to slightly panic about what he’s doing. As he gets out of the car, he can barely register when he’s paid. He’s about to send a quick text to Sebastian, but earlier he mentioned the lacrosse fields, so he heads over in that direction. The lights are on, but no one is in sight. And then he sees him and the panic completely subsides. Sebastian is standing on the field in a Dalton T-shirt and track pants and Blaine registers a thought of this is wrong I shouldn’t be here before quickly brushing it aside. “Hi,” he says quietly, despite no one else being around. “Wasn’t sure you’d show,” Sebastian replies with a salacious grin, “How does it feel to be bad?” “Not as bad as it should,” Blaine admits, looking down, his hands in his pockets. “Oh come on, cheer up,” Sebastian murmurs, tilting Blaine’s chin up to face him, “This won’t be any fun if you’re sad.” His tone is mocking, but his face is glowing in the lights from the field and Blaine doesn’t want to wait any longer. He leans up to kiss Sebastian and instantly melts when their lips meet. They stand near the field, their lips moving together like it’s what they were always meant to do. They’re pressed together under the stars, and this would be the damn most romantic thing Blaine has ever experienced if... He stills a little, feeling the guilt rise up again and Sebastian realizes, the deep passionate kisses turning into quick perfunctory pecks. He pulls away from Blaine and frowns thoughtfully before his face lights up and Blaine can tell he has a plan. “Lay down,” he practically growls and Blaine isn’t sure what he has in mind, but he’d be willing to do just about anything to keep that look on Sebastian’s face. He lays down on the field, a few feet away from where they are currently standing so they’re more hidden in the shadows. But the light from the stars still illuminates their faces, and Sebastian looks like an angel as he lowers himself to the ground. Blaine closes his eyes, waiting for the soft press of Sebastian’s lips, when he realizes it’s not coming. He realizes it because he can feel Sebastian’s hands at his waist, one pulling his zipper down, the other tugging his pants down carefully. “Lift up,” he instructs, tapping the side of Blaine’s hips. Blaine doesn’t know why but he does what he’s told, and the next thing he knows, his bare ass is touching the grass, cool from the night air, and Sebastian has his pants and boxers tugged down to his knees. “Fuck,” Blaine breathes out and Sebastian instantly grins. “Now that’s the attitude I was looking for.” Blaine is laying on his back, staring up at the clear night sky, the stars twinkling above them, but when he pulls his head up to stare down at the other boy, the stars pale in comparison. Sebastian’s legs are on either side of Blaine’s and he’s lowering his mouth down on to Blaine’s cock. That alone is enough to make Blaine groan in satisfaction, but the whole picture is what might kill him. Sebastian is holding himself up above Blaine’s body, his mouth the only part of his own making the connection between the two as he raises and lowers himself like he’s doing the world’s most obscene push ups. His shoulders are tight and Blaine can see the muscles in his arms from his lacrosse conditioning through his T-shirt, but he wants to see everything. “More. I need more,” Blaine begs and he can feel Sebastian’s chuckle reverberate through his body. He pulls off teasingly, his tongue lingering on the head before reaching up and tugging off his shirt. “It’s even better than the picture,” Blaine jokes breathily, and even though every part of his reasonable brain is telling him this is so, so wrong, he can’t help the moan that comes out when Sebastian wraps his lips around him again and slides his tongue up and down the shaft. It’s sleek and precise, just like everything about Sebastian, and Blaine begs for more, reaching down to run his hands across the burning skin of Sebastian’s back as he chases his release. As far as blowjobs go, it’s certainly not the most comfortable Sebastian’s ever been, but he will go to his grave before he ever complains about this night. To his credit, Blaine is raising his hips to meet Sebastian, slowly from the angle, and that prevents him from accidentally slipping and thrusting too hard and hitting the back of his throat. Although his thrusts are waning as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Blaine keeps his eyes on the stars shining above him as his blazing skin continually hits the cool grass of the field. Finally, he can’t take it anymore and squeezes his eyes shut as his orgasm hits. And the stars above come nowhere near the stars behind his eyelids. Sebastian swallows everything so when he finally pulls off, Blaine flinches from the cold of Sebastian’s saliva still lingering on his exposed cock. Sebastian seems to sense this and he reaches down, pulling Blaine’s clothing up to cover him. Sebastian’s hands are barely off the clasp of his pants when Blaine sits up, reaching for his hands to hold them in place and surging forward to kiss Sebastian. The two of them stay on the ground making out until Blaine reaches out, placing his hand on Sebastian’s chest to halt their movements. They stop for a moment, but Blaine can still feel Sebastian’s hot panting breaths as they huddle close. Blaine feels so far removed from himself he feels like he’s having an out of body experience. But at the same time, he is completely in the moment, feeling everything so intensely. That’s when he decides to give Sebastian a taste of his own medicine. He reaches down between them and tugs down Sebastian’s zipper as the other boy’s eyes grow larger. He instantly finds his way inside and wraps his hand around Sebastian’s length. He realizes the angle is a little rough and awkward, but Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind, if his shallow breaths and hooded eyes are any inclination. “Jesus, Blaine,” he grunts out and Blaine can’t help the small smile that breaks out on his face feeling a small sense of control over Sebastian. His strokes speed up and Blaine wishes his shirt was off too so that they could be skin to skin, but he doesn’t want to stop, not sure he could if he tried. Maybe next time is the thought that crosses his mind. Sebastian has his head buried in the crook of Blaine’s neck and Blaine can feel his hot breath on his skin. When he comes, he grips Blaine’s arm hard and bites down on the inside of his neck, right on the spot that he left only a few days ago. Blaine cries out, eyes watering slightly in pain, but as Sebastian finishes, he retracts his hand from inside his boxers and wipes his remaining traces on the grass next to them. As Sebastian comes down from his high, he is grinning, “You did that on purpose.” Blaine shrugs, teasing, “Wanted you to know what it felt like.” Sebastian hops up and walks a few feet away to where a tree is blocking Blaine’s view of him. Blaine stretches out to try and see him, but before he can look too closely, Sebastian is heading back, boxers in hand that he quickly tosses in a trash can near the field. He smirks as he extends his hand to pull Blaine up, “Couldn’t exactly pick up Kurt from Breadstix in those boxers.” There are a million reasons why he should hate Sebastian. He’s cocky, shameless, shows a total disregard for what matters to other people. He throws Blaine’s words back in his face to mock him. He’s the reason he’s cheating on Kurt. But all Blaine can think as he stares at him is: when can we do this again? And he knows.

He has to end it. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he says with a laugh that he’s trying to make his voice sound light despite all the dark things he’s feeling. “Heard it once or twice,” Sebastian replies with a wink, “Come on, killer, let me take you home.” As they walk across the field to the Dalton parking lot, Blaine is once again hit with the overwhelming desire to touch. He wants to hold Sebastian’s hand, feel his arm around his shoulder, anything to keep their bodies in contact. But he can’t. And it breaks his heart more than anything else about this situation. When they get to the car, Sebastian unlocks it, but stops as he opens his door. Blaine does the same, looking over to see the reason for the pause. “Hey,” Sebastian clears his throat, attempting to appear as casual as possible. He’s avoiding Blaine’s gaze entirely. “Would you maybe want to come to a game sometime?” Blaine’s heart flutters, “I’d like that.” Sebastian looks up, and for a moment they lock eyes. Blaine could swear it’s a moment of connection, of vulnerability, but as quick as it comes, it goes and Sebastian is getting into the driver's seat. They don’t say much on the drive, just listen to music and get lost in their own thoughts. When Sebastian pulls up a few houses down from Blaine’s, he parks and looks over. “So what story did you give the parents?” Blaine blushes, “Actually, I...uh snuck out.” “Blaine Anderson,” Sebastian says in a slow drawl, dragging out the syllables in his name, “you have never been sexier.” Blaine rolls his eyes, but can’t fight the smile creeping across his face, “Goodnight, Sebastian.” He turns to exit the car when Sebastian pulls at the arm that’s still in the car and tugs him back. There is moment of hesitation where it seems like Sebastian might say something, but instead, he moves forward, kissing Blaine and gripping the fabric of his T-shirt to keep him in place. They sit in the car for a few moments, their exhalations the only sounds disturbing the quiet. When they pull apart, Sebastian flicks his eyes upward to make eye contact and murmurs, “Goodnight, Blaine.” Blaine somehow manages to make his way out of the car and to the back of his house where the spare key is waiting under the mat like it always has been. The lights are all off in the house so he knows his parents are asleep. He creeps up the stairs and into his bedroom where his math book still sits. He knows he is royally screwed on his test and he’s exhausted, so he clicks off the lamp and lays down on the bed. Even though all the lights are off, his window is still open and the light from the moon and stars is shining brightly through. He rolls on to his side to look out the window when he notices he has a text. Stars still the best view you’ve had tonight?

Blaine knows he should go to bed. He should ignore the message. He should stop this.

And yet.

Not even close.

iii. Tea Blaine fails his test. He’s hardly surprised. Since that night at Dalton, he’s barely been sleeping, unable to focus on anything but a mixture of Sebastian’s hands all over him and Kurt’s eyes boring into him at lunch when he barely says two words. He feels like he’s living two lives. And he can’t do it anymore. So finally, he calls him and asks him to meet at the Lima Bean. He doesn’t think he can stomach a coffee for this conversation so he orders a peppermint tea for himself and the other boy’s typical coffee order and waits. At first when Kurt walks in, he doesn’t see Blaine and Blaine just watches him.  His mind flashes back to when they first met when he sang to Kurt like he was the only person in the world. From one Warbler to another. They finally lock eyes and Kurt smiles tentatively. Blaine feels like he might throw up. Kurt sits down and grabs the cup sitting nearest to him. Before Blaine can stop him, Kurt takes a sip of the tea and looks at Blaine, confused. “Peppermint tea? Something wrong with your voice?” Fuck. Kurt is concerned about him. He has to make it stop. He’s made up his mind. “No, but there is something I need to talk to you about.” Kurt sighs, “Is it about the other night?” The other night? Blaine is wracking his brain trying to think of a fight they had or something he might’ve said, but Kurt looks like he’s already prepared himself for the worst. “I saw you get into that car, Blaine. When you were supposed to be studying.” Blaine feels like he can hear glass shattering somewhere. He knows. But he doesn’t know everything. “Did you follow me?” He doesn’t want to sound accusatory, he knows he’s the guilty party here. But he’s desperate to find out what Kurt knows. He doesn’t want to break his heart all over again rehashing details he’s already sure of. Or worse, repainting pictures he’s already seen with his own eyes. “Rachel and I came over to surprise you. We brought snacks and a movie and were going to give you a study break. That was before I saw you sneaking out of your bedroom window and getting into a stranger’s car.” Okay so he didn’t see him with Sebastian. He’s glad that he at least doesn’t have that visual in his mind, he doesn’t want to hurt him. More than he already has. More than he’s going to. “I didn’t know that person in the car, it was an Uber. I was going to Dalton. To see Sebastian.” Kurt is stunned. He barely knows of Sebastian, the new captain of the Warblers, but he knew that Blaine was different after he came back from meeting him. “Sebastian? Why? I thought you just happened to meet him when you went back to Dalton.”

“I did, but...he asked if we could meet again, and I wanted to. So badly.”

“What’s going on, Blaine?”

Blaine sighs, “I’m sorry, you deserve better than me.”

Kurt’s eyes are gleaming, Blaine knows he’s going to leave here and cry. But he won’t give Blaine that satisfaction. “Did you have sex with him?” Blaine hesitates, “No, but -“ “But you’ve done enough with him to know you don’t want to be with me.”

“Kurt, I —“

“You don’t know him, Blaine!” Kurt shrieks and Blaine doesn’t blame him. His whole world has been turned upside down in only a matter of minutes.

“Maybe not,” Blaine admits, “But I know enough about what I’ve done to know that it wouldn’t be right to be with you anymore.”

“Do I get a say in any of this?” Kurt is near the point of breaking and Blaine is devastated. How did he let it get like this? “Do you really want to be with someone who cheated on you?” “I don’t—” Kurt does shed a tear then, he can’t help it, can’t even finish his sentences. It’s all out in the open now, Blaine cheated, there’s no way around it.

“This is so unfair.” “I know, I’m sorry,” Blaine reaches over to touch Kurt’s hand, to comfort him, but he flinches and pulls away. “Why? Why did you do this?” Blaine thinks about saying that he doesn’t know, but the truth is that he does, whether it’s right or wrong. “I want him,” he admits, “I don’t know why, but every time I see him, I just feel drawn. And maybe it’s missing Dalton or the Warblers, but -“ And it’s at this point he realizes he’s said too much. Kurt’s face has gone from sad to angry, and Blaine wishes he could take it back. He wishes he could lie one more time. “Goodbye, Blaine,” Kurt says hurriedly, rising from the table, leaving his coffee untouched, “I’ll see you at school.” And then he’s gone. ... He does see Kurt at school, but he’s usually with Rachel, the two of them huddled close and muttering quietly. Kurt doesn’t acknowledge him but occasionally Rachel will catch his eye and he can see the pity, sadness and anger all mixed together in her gaze. When he sings in glee club, they all stare and clap politely when he finishes but he can tell they’re all thinking one thing. How could you?

The betrayal of one of their own is something none of them can seem to forgive Blaine for. And truth be told, the further he gets from Sebastian, the harder it is for him to answer that question. Sebastian texts him but the messages either go unanswered or they receive a one or two word response. Blaine wants him, just like he did before, but he doesn’t know how to move out of this space where he has himself convinced he deserves to be unhappy. He feels frozen between the past and the future. He even goes to the Lima Bean in an attempt to restore some normalcy to his life, but when he goes to order a coffee, a lump forms in his throat, thinking about Sebastian’s Courvoisier and coffee, and he can’t do it, not yet, so he just orders a peppermint tea to keep his stomach calm and sits down. He’s staring out the window, zoned out and people watching when he hears a voice that instantly pulls at his heartstrings. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were avoiding me.” Blaine glances up and there’s Sebastian dressed to the nines in his Dalton blues.  He motions at the seat across from Blaine, “This seat taken?” “No,” Blaine manages to choke out, and he can’t help but stare as Sebastian sits down and they are facing each other. Both have a flashback to when they first met, sitting like this at Dalton, but their minds also flash to that night on the stage, that morning in Blaine’s bedroom, that night on the lacrosse field. It all had to mean something, didn’t it? “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?” “I don’t know,” Blaine says desperately, wishing he could come up with a better response. But it’s clear Sebastian is tired of waiting for answers. “You’re lying,” Sebastian snaps back almost instantly, “did Kurt tell you to stop talking to me?” “I think you’ll recall there wasn’t much I ran by Kurt when it came to me and you,” Blaine responds with a pointed stare. Sebastian is confused, “Why are you talking about both things in the past tense?” “Because you and I feel like a lifetime away and Kurt and I...” he’s afraid to admit it because he knows the revelation will change everything. Once Sebastian knows, there’s no going back. “Kurt and I broke up.” In the very short time he’s known him, Blaine has never seen Sebastian stunned silent. But this clearly wasn’t the news he was expecting. He was expecting to come here, to fight for Blaine, to bring him back into his life. He had no idea Blaine wasn’t fighting anymore. “My hands have been tied literally almost since the moment I met you,” Blaine admits, and for the first time in a while, he allows a small smile to cross his lips at his clever reference.

“Then why are still punishing yourself for this?” Sebastian asks, raising an eyebrow and reaching out to Blaine’s cup, holding up the tag from the teabag peeking out of the lid. “I can’t even drink coffee without thinking of you,” Blaine mumbles, and then he clears his throat, feeling emboldened, “How this all happened, it was so so wrong, but -“ “But?” “But I still want it. I still want you.” Sebastian places both arms on the table, leaning closer, and Blaine’s eyes flick up at him. They’re so close Blaine can almost feel Sebastian’s breath on his lips. “I haven’t been with anyone since I met you, Blaine. I haven’t sent a text, flirted, kissed anyone since you.” “How flattering,” Blaine says with a smirk. “Hey, that may be shocking for your vanilla lifestyle, but for me, that’s a huge deal.” Everything Sebastian says is laced with the slightest hint of bite, but Blaine knows he’s being sincere. “You’re going to have to stop calling me vanilla if you want to be with me, you know.” Blaine says it quietly but it feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders and he glances up at Sebastian with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh you want to be with me, huh?” Sebastian leans back against his chair and crosses his arms, but he is smiling. “Yes,” Blaine answers plain and simple. And then he adds: “And I want to come home.” Sebastian isn’t sure what he means by that at first, but then Blaine’s eyes glance down ever so slightly and he catches his meaning. He reaches up to his neck to loosen his tie and Blaine’s mind flashes back to that night after West Side Story where all of this began. When he snaps out of his daydream, he looks down at Sebastian’s hands on the table, outstretched, offering his Dalton tie. “So come home.” Before, the tie had been use to bind, to restrain him. But now? It’s his salvation, his freedom. “Think the Warblers would let me be Captain again?” Blaine asks with a teasing grin. “As Captain of said Warblers, I can respond to that with an emphatic hell no,” Sebastian leans across the table again, “but -“ Before he finishes, he continues his movements until his breath is ghosting over Blaine’s lips. Blaine gives the smallest nod and that’s all the permission Sebastian needs. He presses their lips together and swears he can hear Blaine sigh into their kiss. The movements are sweet and slow, Sebastian running his tongue along Blaine’s bottom lip but not pushing any further. When they break apart, his smile is glowing as he completes his statement. “I would say you’re a shoo-in for co-Captain.” Blaine laughs and places the tie loosely around his neck, “So, what do you think?” Sebastian smiles back, “Never looked better.”

[ghoulishboyhummel]

worth a shot || self para

WHO: Aaron Hummel talking to Elizabeth Hummel’s tombstone. Mentions of Burt Hummel, Kurt Hummel ( @gleedalekurt ), Marley Rose ( @marleyrosens ), Blaine Anderson ( @northsideblaine ), and Sebastian Smythe ( @northsidesmythe ). Minor mentions of Charlotte Rose ( @serpentchar ), Alejandro Hart ( @hartdalemd ), Benji Karofsky ( @benjikarofsky ), and Franco Del Rio ( @southsidefranco )

WHEN: Tuesday, May 28

WHERE: Riverdale Cemetery

TRIGGERS: None, I think. 

WARNINGS: Guys, Aaron cries and only swears once. It’s a big deal.

Aaron needed someone to talk to about...everything, but he needed someone completely detached from all of this and won’t get hung up on his feelings or anything.

So he drove to the cemetery and walked to his mother’s grave.

He hadn’t visited since the funeral, always too worried about what would happen in his head if he saw the tombstone with her name on it. But there were no other options and as they say, no time like the present. When he came upon the grave, he sat down in front of it, knowing he was probably going to be here for a bit.

“Hey, mom. It’s Aaron.” He started, laughing to himself when he thought about how ridiculous this whole idea was, but he stayed. “I don’t believe in any religious shi-stuff,” he doesn’t know why he corrected his language, Elizabeth can’t care how he speaks, but he did “But I can kind of get behind ghosts so I guess that’ll be my excuse for talking here.”

This was weird, but also strangely right, to do. Talk to his mom like she was really here and standing in front of him instead of six feet under.

“I’m 21, turning 22 this year. That’s cool, right? You haven’t seen me since I was 8...I’m sorry I never visited after the funeral. Even after I ran away and had full choice of my life, I chose to stay away from your grave.”

Aaron tapped his finger against his leg, “A lot has happened, mom. I know you only knew me for a year, but you were the best mother I could ask for and then you were just gone. I couldn’t get your pancakes on Saturdays anymore, I couldn’t make you sit through my dumb little videos anymore, everything changed with us when you died.” He took a steady breath while his mind drifted to the arguments he had with Burt, to running away, to everything that could have been avoided if she didn’t die. “Dad and I don’t get along, really at all now. He tried to pin attempted murder on me, can you believe that?” He paused to laugh, albeit, a little reluctantly, “But now he’s been arrested for being the town serial killer so, I guess that’s karma.”

“Kurt and I are working on it. After I ran away, I tried to pretend like I hated him. I joined the Ghoulies, you know, like the Serpents but with a cooler logo and a little more dangerous.” That time, Aaron actually did laugh, “But after some crazy fu-after some crazy stuff happened, we decided to give the brothers thing a shot again. We even live together. At least, we’ll go back to living together once I’m fully sober and done with withdrawal. I won’t lie, mom, I’ve had some pretty bad alcohol problems in the recent past. But I’m getting better now, Marley’s been a big help.”

His hands started doing their own thing to distract himself. “You remember the Rose’s, right? Charlie and Marley, twins a year older than me. Charlie and I are friends, she even joined one of the gangs after a whole bunch of things happened. Not the Ghoulies, unfortunately, but I guess the Serpents are okay to join for her. But Marley...I really like her. And she likes me too, I know because she told me ages ago. I’ve only known about my feelings for a couple of weeks. But I haven’t told her.” Even though he knew it was ridiculous, saying it out loud was worse.

“I’m sure it sounds dumb, but there are so many complications so I have a very good reason for not telling her. You know Blaine? He told her he loves her, like actually loves her, and kissed her. Then he kissed me a bit ago. And I don’t even know how to be a good person, let alone a good boyfriend. So, maybe I should just wait and let Marley fall for Blaine instead, or just let her feelings for me die out entirely.” That also sounded dumb, because there was no telling when his own feelings would die out. It took a long time for his crush on Jackson to go away.

“If you really can watch over me or whatever, then you probably already knew some of that. And I’m sorry for everything you’ve seen me do; running away, calling the cops on myself, being an alcoholic, breaking into the Hayward’s office, though I had legitimate reasons for that, and for being a dealer and gang leader.” Aaron felt some tears roll down his cheeks and he quickly wiped them away. “I’m sure I haven’t turned out the way you thought I would when you adopted me. But I’m not awful, right? I’m not a sociopath like that Benji kid thinks I am? I’m pretty sure I’m not, sociopaths don’t feel remorse or guilt for the things they do, and I do feel bad for everything I did to him and Franco. Having sex with Franco while they’re together was wrong, taking so long to apologize probably wasn’t the best move either. That means something, doesn’t it?”

He was silent for a bit, almost like he was waiting for a response, some assurance that he wasn’t a bad person. But obviously no response came.

“I miss you. I really miss you, mom. It’s not fair that I only got a year with you, I can’t help but think I wouldn’t be so...messed up, if you were still here. I’d probably be a lot nicer, I probably wouldn’t get into fights, definitely wouldn’t be a drug dealer, who knows? I might have even left town by now to take my filming elsewhere. But none of that happened. You died, and dad and I kept arguing, and I ran away.” This time, Aaron didn’t bother trying to wipe away the tears that were falling. “Sebastian, I’m kind of friends with him now, can you believe that?” He shook his head and continued, “Anyways, Sebastian told me that he always kind of wondered what it was like to have a mom that cared for her kids. Obviously being my sad orphan self, I could definitely relate. I guess I still do relate. Considering I don’t still have a mom that cared for her kids, I don’t...I don’t have a mom at all now.” He breathed, trying to keep his voice steady, though it was really hard to do so.

“I don’t blame you, obviously. Not your fault you died. I don’t even blame dad, though looking back, I’m sure I may have made it seem like that. I don’t think I can blame anyone. Death happens, that’s life. It sucks, you get over it, you move on. But I don’t think I’ve ever really “moved on” from anything.” He leaned back a bit in his criss-cross positioning, “I’m still really pissed at my birth parents for just leaving me. I’m pissed at this screwed up world for taking you away from us, I’m pissed at dad for...everything he’s done since becoming Sheriff. But most of all, I think I’m pissed at myself. I keep letting things affect me, I keep lying, I definitely have issues. What’s the line between outside circumstance and just me not trying hard enough to be a better person? Have I crossed it? Is it too late for me to try to be a better person?”

Now, he was kind of regretting doing this. The silence after his last couple of questions was deafening. “I suggested that Kurt should come here and talk to you, so if he hasn’t yet, I’m not trying to take away his big news when I mention that I don’t know how I feel about him being engaged.” Aaron let out a sigh, “I’m happy for him, obviously. He’s my older brother and I’m glad that Ale makes him happy. But I just wish he’d tell me for sure what his plans were. If he doesn’t want to live with me anymore and would rather live with Ale, I’m fine with that. Really. It’d be better for him to stay on the Northside with his great fiancé and do what he needs to do instead of kicking it back on the Southside with me. But it seems like everyone’s been so worried about if I’m going to have a breakdown or something if he leaves and I think that’s why he hasn’t told me for sure yet. If he wants to live with me still, awesome, if he doesn’t, that’s great too. I just want him to be happy.”

Aaron tilted his head to the side a little, “I don’t want people worrying about me. I get it, I went back to drinking and clearly I’m more upset about dad being arrested than I tell people but I’m fine now. Marley isn’t talking to me because I got mad and punched her dad, but I’m fine. It sucks that despite leading an entire gang now and having all these people who say they care about me, this is the loneliest I’ve felt in a while, but I’m fucking fine.” He knew that it was a lie, especially since it’s like a swearing filter had been turned on while here and he just said ‘fucking’, and after sighing again, he decided to tell the truth. Not like it matters here, right? “I’m not fine. This is all so messed up and I should be glad that I even have people that care about me despite the awful things I’ve done. I’m lucky Kurt’s given me so many chances, I’m lucky Marley isn’t going to be upset with me forever, I’m lucky I have so many amazing people in my life. I just don’t know why that isn’t enough for me yet, why I feel lonely and so self deprecating that it actually hurts sometimes when I have people telling me that I’m a good person.”

Checking the time, he sees that he’s been here for a little over an hour. Just crying and talking to his mother’s grave. 

“I should go. Don’t want people worrying about where I am and all, they might think I’ve gone to a bar or something.” He moved to stand up and wiped away his tears. “I love you, mom. I don’t think that’s ever going to stop. And as much as I hate crying and talking about how I feel, this was nice. Maybe I’ll come visit more. And bring flowers, people do that, right?” Aaron pushed some of his hair back, “Okay, I’m gonna go. Bye, mom. Hope you’re having more fun than I am.”

[midnightblaine]

Breaking Open - Klaine Advent 2018

Notes:  Yay update! I'm hoping the next chapters will get longer but I didn't want to fall behind (more than I already am lol) with the advent so here it is. See ya tomorrow!

Day 3: Camera

AO3

It made sense to Blaine that he wasn’t the only person to be interested in Kurt. It wasn’t like had a monopoly over pathetic pining for someone so out your league you shouldn’t even be considering breathing the same air as them. As it was, it still came as a shock when he saw Kurt in the middle of their stage combat classroom doing biceps curls surrounded by a group of adoring fans, men and women alike.

Most of the time he avoided looking anywhere near Kurt in case he was caught staring. He didn’t want to come off as creepy on top of awkward.

Logically, he knew there was bound to be a great deal of people falling head over heels for one of the most, if not the most, popular boy at NYADA. It was an awfully exclusive college and Kurt was a junior, his popularity was preceded by talks of his ruthless victories at Midnight Madness, his impeccable performances at the Round Room and the fact that he stopped a gay bashing at the expense of personal injury. He was like a superhero and he was so gracious and humble, like he didn’t know the effect he had in others.

He chatted amicably with anyone who approached him and didn’t give into the school’s tradition of trying to tear your classmates apart. He was kind and down to earth and Blaine seriously needed to stop thinking that much about someone he had never talked to.

Kurt was so comfortable being the center of attention, always looking camera ready, even in his delightfully tight tank top and loose pants. His hair was disheveled, a little form the exertion, a little from running his hands through it. His smile though, he had always this small secretive smile on his face, self-assured but open, so so beautiful. Blaine thought himself lucky he could see him smile every now and then when he spotted him in the hallways or at class, even if those smiles weren’t ever directed specifically at him.

Blaine was content with sitting by the large windows, away from most of the crowd, staying in the background and waiting for their professor to arrive.

Alessia sat down on the spot next to Blaine, bringing him out of his daydream and shooting him a smile. They were delving into friend’s territory, finding each other to partner up in Combat Class and working together in the other two classes they shared. Blaine liked her.

He reached down for the bakery box he had brought with him and opened it quietly, offering a cronut to Alessia.

“Would you like one, Lex?”

She nodded and reached for one with a raised eyebrow. It turned out Alessa liked talking even less than Blaine did. He chuckled.

“I found this little place the other day on my way here. They sell all kinds of pastries and desserts, but their cronuts are to die for”.

Alessia shook his head while he picked his own cronut. They ate in silence, savoring every bite of their heavenly pastries as they watched their classmates mill about. He crushed the guilty feeling that threatened to rise in him. He had eaten at least one cronut every day since finding the little bakery, but it never got any less delicious or rewarding.

He chose that moment to return his gaze to Kurt, still surrounded by half the class, still picture perfect. Blaine hoped his sigh didn’t sound as wistful as he felt it, his heart beating happily at the sight of a real-life Disney prince. Instantly, a lovely pair of blue eyes found his, making Blaine freeze up in horror.

He felt his face heat up to an ungodly degree and had to look away immediately, earning himself a curious glance from his friend. He hung his head low as his stomach began to churn in shame. Dear god, he couldn’t even look at Kurt in the eye, he couldn't show his face around NYADA ever again, what was he thinking, he was so stupid...

The professor finally, thankfully, arrived then, effectively shaking Blaine out of his spiraling thoughts as he spewed instructions, making everyone in the room scramble to follow. He shared a terrified look with Alessia and hurried to comply. He could already feel how badly every muscle in his body would hurt after class ended.