#They look at Kurt how he does some stupid shit again asking themselves if they should tell him or watch him fail

[ouroboros-hideout]

BARKING AND RUNNING IN CIRCLES

Hejehrhhxgxgcjvchx @cybervesna took some pics of Aon. And a bonus pic with her and Wiosna. Knife BFFs 🔥

[withluvgen]

Not the right time - Warren Worthington III X Reader

A/N: Had this idea for a while now tbh. Was low-key inspired to write this one because of a telenovela my mom was watching, ngl. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  There's also a little HIMYM reference in there haha.

Warnings: Swear words. Drinking. Mentions of abuse. Angst. Fluff. Not proof read so some mistakes, maybe?

WC: 2,324 

Summary: Warren and y/n are childhood friends that were separated when Warren ran away. They meet years later at Xaviers and unspoken feelings bring tension to the group.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

It was the beginning of summer and Y/N and Jubilee’s room was lit up with different colored Christmas lights, despite it being way too early for them. You’d think that they were just excited for the holiday but it wasn���t for that purpose. Y/N and her friends thought it would be a good idea to throw a little party to celebrate the summer. They were just waiting for Scott and the other guys to get back from getting pizza and snacks for the party.

The girls were busy chatting while waiting for the guys to get back. This was a rare occasion because they barely had enough time to themselves because of all the x-men stuff they had to do. For Jubilee, this was the perfect time for gossip.

“Hey Jean, what’s the deal with you and Summers? Are you like official or are you guys still going on with the no label thing?” She asked as she was painting her nails a bright pink.

“Are you for real, Jubes?” Jean laughs “What does it matter if Scott and I are official or not? We’re taking things slow.”

“Of course it matters! What if some girl swoops in and takes Scott away from you?” Jubilee says a little too exaggerated.

“Scott and I are fine the way we are. What you should be worried about is Y/N and Warren!” Jean says eyeing you with a smirk.

 “What about us? We’re just friends! We have been since we were kids!” A blush creeps onto your face as you try to hide it by looking down on your nails.

“Oh come on, y/n, even I see it.” Ororo laughs before she continues. “I see the look on his face every time he sees you. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know how he feels about you.”

“Oh and don’t forget to mention the way these two keep flirting with each other all the time! You can actually cut through the tension between those two! The question is though, is it romantic tension or sexual tension?” Jubilee Chimes in.

“Oh shut up you guys. Warren and I are just friends. We’ve known each other since before he ran away and ended up in those cage fights. We’re just- I don’t know making up for lost time, I guess?” You say a little bashfully.

“By flirting constantly and being so clingy with each other?” Jean asks teasingly.

“I-I don’t know what you guys are talking about.” Somebody knocks on the door and you’re thankful that this conversation was over. For now.

Jubilee opens the door to reveal the boys with the drinks and food. Warren sets the bag he was carrying by the others and goes directly to your side of the room. He plops down beside you and wraps his arms on your waist. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Jubilee and the others.

“Hey, kitten, missed me?” Warren says as he buries his face on the crook of your neck.

“Hey yourself, bird boy.” You say as you push him away laughing. “You weren’t gone for long, Ren.”

“It was long enough for Summers over there.” He says looking over at Scott who was giving him a disapproving look.

“Come on guys let’s hurry up. I wanna spend more time with Jean.” Peter says with his Scott impression. A pillow was thrown in his direction, but Peter was just too fast for it to hit him. “Nice try, Scotty.”

----

After the first box of pizza was gone, Jubilee thought it was a good idea to play a little drinking game. Her idea, “never have I ever”. Of course everyone was okay with it because why wouldn’t they want to play a game that could end with them drunk and knowing their friends’ secrets. They sat in a circle with Warren and Peter on either side of y/n. A bottle of tequila was set in the middle of the group.

“Okay, never have I ever gone skinny dipping.” Jean says and half of the group put a finger down. Scott, Peter, Warren, and Jubilee all take a shot of tequila before telling their stories.

The game went on for about an hour before it was Jubilee’s turn. You knew she was going to target you and get you to confess your feelings for Warren.

“Me next! Never have I ever been in love with a close friend.” Jubilee says as she sees Jean, Warren, Scott, Peter, and y/n put a finger down and they all take turns taking a shot. “We all know Scott and Jean’s story, and I think I can speak for everyone when I say that I don’t want to hear it. No offense. I want to hear the others!”

“Yeah, no. It’s too embarrassing. Just give me two more shots of that tequila.” You say as you reach for the shot glass.

“Boo! Kill joy. What about you two?” Jubilee points to Warren and Peter.

“All I can say is that she’s one of my closest friends here.” Peter says as he looks at you and winks. The others started cheering him on. Warren absentmindedly put his arm around your shoulder as he looked over at Peter.

“You like y/n/n?” Warren asks his brows furrowed.

“I mean yeah, I did. We had a brief fling back before you guys even came here.” Peter shrugs.

“Wait, when did this happen?” Jean asks, confusion evident on her face.

“Ugh Peter, it was supposed to be a secret. Remember?” You say as you bury your face in your palms. Warren’s jaw clenched from her answer.  “It was before Jubilee became my roommate. I had a crush on Peter and he felt the same way. Long story short it didn’t really end well.”

“Yeah. Well it was just too weird. Everything with her felt so platonic.” Peter chuckled.

“So wait, is that the “too embarrassing” story you didn’t want to tell us, y/n?” Ororo asks.

“Well, uhm no. And I’m not telling.” You say looking down on the ground.

“Well what about you, Warren?” Kurt asks looking at Warren who smirks.

“She’s right here.” Warren says pulling you closer to him. Jean and Jubilee squeal from the revelation. “When we were kids that is. I liked her a lot back then. Almost didn’t run away because of her.”

“Yeah, but you did anyway.” You say a little too bitterly. You took his arm off of you.

“What? You’d rather me stay with my abusive parents? Besides I thought you’d understand why I had to. I don’t understand why you’re still pissed about that.” Warren raises his brows.

“Well, Warren, you fucking left without even saying goodbye, so yeah, I’d be pretty pissed about that." You say taking a swig of beer. “You know what, let’s just drop it.”

“I don’t want to drop it. You’ve been avoiding this topic ever since you and I found each other here.” Warren says as he turns to face you.

“I said drop it, Warren. I don’t want to talk about it.” You say about to take another swig of beer before you hear Scott whisper something to Jean.

“I think I liked it better when these two were all lovey-dovey.”

“I heard that, Scott. In case you forgot, my mutation doesn’t just allow me to turn into any feline I want, it also has all of my senses heightened.” You glare at Scott.

“Okay calm down, kitty cat. Summers has a point for once. We’re here to chill out not watch you two fighting.” Jubilee says as she reaches over for the bottle of tequila. “Let’s just continue on with this game.”

“I’m done with this game. Sorry.” You stand up only to be pulled back down by Warren.

“Oh come on, y/n, don’t be like that. I’m sorry.” Warren says still holding your wrist.

“Okay. Fine. You want me to play? I’ll answer the stupid question. That’s what you want right, Jubes? You just want me to finally confess my feelings.” You say pulling your hand away from Warren’s grip, looking at Jubilee. She shakes her head.

“Look if you don’t want to, we don’t mind. Just calm down.” Jubilee says. The others fall silent.

“Was I ever in love with a close friend? Yes. He was my best friend and I have been in love with him for as long as we’ve been friends. But he broke my heart because he left without even saying goodbye. No explanations or anything. It was just like I never even mattered to him at all. All that talk about how I was the only person he cares about, yeah I started to think that was bull shit. Years of not even a single letter or letting me know he’s alright, and then I see him on the news as one of the four horsemen of the fucking apocalypse. What a great way to find out that the guy you’ve been in love with was alive right? When he came here, I was ready to put everything behind me, because I thought what matters now is that we’re together again. But no I can’t put that shit behind me because no matter how much he flirts with me, no matter how much clingy he gets, that won’t make up for how he made me feel all those years because it fucking hurts.” You couldn’t stop your tears from falling so you just let them. Everyone was still silent all eyes on you. Warren was frozen. He didn’t know what to do or say. He just sat there staring at you. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding this for so long. That’s why I’ve been so pissed about it every time you bring it up. I am hopelessly; irretrievably in love with you, Warren. More than you know. So there, I hope you finally get the answer you want.”

You get up and walk out of your own room. Not knowing where you’d go. Back in the room, Warren was still frozen in place eyes glued to the door. It was only until Jean called out to him that he snapped out of it.

“Did any of you guys know about this?” Warren asks.

“We knew she had a thing for you but we didn’t know that it stemmed from all that.” Jubilee says eyes falling on the ground. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed anything.”

“It’s fine. She’ll be fine. I uh, I’ll go find her. I guess.” Warren says as he gets up to look for you.

He didn’t take long to find you. He knew you’d be on the balcony overlooking the lake. Your back was facing him as you were staring up into the sky.

“Hey, Kitten.” Warren says as he walks cautiously towards you. He stands beside you, leaning over the railings.

“Hey.” You answer without even looking at him.

“Look, I’m sorry for leaving. I didn’t think how it would affect you. I had enough of my parents that I didn’t think about it anymore. I just left. Not realizing that you’d be hurt.” He says looking up at the sky.

“I wish I told you back then how I felt because I was pretty much in love with you. Maybe that way you would have stayed.” You say still not wanting to see his face.

“I wish I did too. I just assumed you wouldn’t be into me that way. I loved you, y/n. So much. I was just selfish.” He says causing you to snap your head to look at him.

“Oh. Well aren’t we a pair of idiots.” You chuckle lowly.

“Yeah. But hey we’re here now.” He says meeting your eyes. His gorgeous green eyes, that always held so much emotion, now only filled with regret.

“If I told you how I felt back then, would you have given me a chance?” You ask hopefully. Eyes not leaving his.

“No.”

“Oh. Well it’s a good thing I didn’t.” You look back at the sky. Staring into the moon as tears threatened to fall once again.

“I mean, it’s nothing to do with you. I would have said yes in a heartbeat, but things weren’t really in our favor back then. I didn’t want you getting wrapped up in all of my family drama.” Warren says as he reaches out for you. He turns your face to look at him again. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, but I don’t think it was the right time for us. It would have ended up with us getting hurt. We’re lucky we found each other again, y/n/n. If you still feel that way about me, then please give me a chance.”

“You clearly weren’t listening to what I said earlier.” You laugh a bit before caressing his cheek. “Yes, Ren. I still love you.”

He leans down to kiss you and you instantly kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands find his way to your waist. He pulls you closer as the kiss deepens. His lips felt like heaven and you’ve been dreaming about this moment ever since he came into the mansion. The kiss was full of longing and want, it felt right. You pull away breathless, looking into his eyes. Your foreheads touching.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Warren.” You smile up at him, heart still fluttering. He pulls you into his chest.

“I’m sorry for everything. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He says as he plants a kiss on the top your head.

“I know.”

“We should head back. They’re probably wondering what happened to us.” Warren scratches the back of his head with a bashful look on his face.

“In a while. Let’s enjoy this moment a little longer.” You say as you wrap your arms around him again. He wraps his wings around you both.

---

[lady-divine-writes]

Squatters’ Rights - (Rated PG13)

Summary: Chaos ensues at their daughter's Christmas pageant when some unexpected visitors hijack a very important prop. (1878 words)

Notes: Written for the @klaineadvent 2019 prompts emergency, ground, hiccup, interrupt, nest, and overwhelm, and the @gleepotluckbigbang Prompt 'Christmas Trees'.

Read on AO3.

“Ku-rt … oh Ku-rt,” Blaine sings in a nervous falsetto. “I need to talk to you, Kurt.”

“Yes?” Kurt snaps, too overwhelmed this close to curtain to handle anything that might go hand-in-hand with that unsettling voice.

“We might have a problem.”

“What?” Kurt storms a step towards his husband who leaps three steps back in response, concerned suddenly for life and limb. “What problem!? It’s fifteen minutes to show time! Don’t talk to me about problems!”

“O…okay,” Blaine says, splaying his hands in a conciliatory gesture, “then let’s call it a hiccup?”

“No, a hiccup is a safety-gated synonym for problem and I refuse to accept that there are any problems.”

“And yet, we still have one.”

Kurt sighs, throwing a hand to his forehead to shield his already blooming headache from whatever stupidity this is, and ends up smacking himself with his clipboard. “Fine!” he groans, rubbing the sore spot. “What is it!?”

“Look up there.” Blaine reaches out to take his husband’s shoulder and redirect his attention, but after considering the possibility of getting his hand bitten off, he motions with his chin instead.

“Up where?”

“Up … up there. In the Christmas tree. And … uh … tell me I don’t see what I think I see.”

“What? Is Mrs. Popson complaining that the ornaments are unbalanced again? Are we going to have to re-Feng shui the lights to better complement her third graders’ angel piglets?” Kurt allows himself a snicker as he follows Blaine’s instructions and gazes up. Eight dozen ridiculous things have happened so far and their little pageant has yet to even open. That’s probably all this is. Something ridiculous – a minor inconvenience blown way out of proportion.

At least, that’s what it had better be.

But as he peers through the branches of their picturesque twelve-foot Fraser fir, he realizes no. This isn’t a little thing. It’s a rather large thing. So large, he wonders how come he didn’t manage to notice it before now.

“Oh … shit,” he mutters.

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees. “That’s what I said.”

“This!” Kurt hisses, jabbing a finger upward. “This is why I told you I wanted an artificial tree for the Christmas pageant! Where did we get this thing anyway?”

“It was donated, Kurt! By Father Bruno at St. Adalbert’s Parish. As a show of support for out LGBT inclusive program! He went out to the woods and cut it down himself!”

“Right!” Kurt folds his arms over his chest, expression pinched sarcastically. “He probably planned this! Did it on purpose to sabotage our pageant! You can’t trust the Catholics, Blaine! Don’t I always say that!?”

“No!” Blaine pulls a face. “I have never heard you say that!”

“Well, you can’t,” Kurt sniffs. “And whether I said it or not, it’s generally implied.”

“I don’t think he did this on purpose.”

“Really!? Then let me ask you this - during the time it took the good father to cut this tree down and drag it over here, he never once noticed there was not one, not two, but three nests inside!?”

“I guess not! But neither did y---we,” Blaine corrects, his life flashing before his eyes when he almost implicates his husband in being at fault. “We got the tree last minute. I guess they slipped through the cracks.”

“Obviously.” Kurt sighs. He closes his eyes and drops his head, searching for an answer in the dark behind his lids.

Five minutes.

By now, they only have five minutes left until show time. He can hear the children lining up with their teachers backstage while he and his husband argue. But they need to stop arguing and come up with a solution.

And fast.

He takes a deep breath in and exhales out, the inklings of a plan forming in his head.

“It’s okay,” he says, reassuring himself more than anyone. “It’s going to be okay. They haven’t let the parents in yet. They’re still in line outside. We can fix this. We can still fix this.” Kurt’s eyes pop open. “Sam’s here, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah!” Blaine exclaims, the inclusion of their friend in this scenario of some bizarre comfort to him. “He’s doing final checks on the lighting! Up in the catwalk!”

“Great,” Kurt says, over-enunciating consonants through locked teeth. “Can you go get him please?”

“Yes! Yes, I can! Sam! Sam!” Blaine bellows before he runs off behind the curtain. Kurt flinches, the headache simmering behind his eyes threatening to become a full-blown migraine. He considers informing his husband that he could have yelled just as easily, but quicker than quick, Blaine returns with Sam in tow, pointing animatedly at the tree, running his mouth a mile a minute. Sam listens, nodding and smiling, telling Blaine it’ll be okay every time Blaine stops to take a breath – which isn’t often. But a foot away from the tree Sam gets a better glimpse. He slows down. His smile falls. And to Kurt’s dismay, he shakes his head.

But Kurt adamantly objects to hearing anything that so much as stinks of bad news, so before Sam can say a word, he jumps the gun: “So, you can move them right? Just … shimmy up there and get them down?”

“Uh … no. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Kurt counters, teeth clenched so hard they’re about to pop from his skull. “Skitter your way up there and pluck them out. It can’t be too difficult.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt …”

“We’re not going to hurt them,” Kurt interjects as if that might be the big hold up. “We’re going to relocate them.”

“Kurt …”

“There’s a cat carrier in the fifth grade room,” Kurt continues desperately. “We’ll toss them in there for the time being and then …”

“Kurt!” Sam barks, which he never does, so Kurt knows the impending answer truly is no. “We can’t move them.”

“And why can’t we?”

“Because those aren’t just any birds.” The three men look up at the exact moment nine fluffy bird faces peek over the edges of their nests and look down, probably wondering what all the commotion below is about. “Those are loggerhead shrikes.”

Kurt and Blaine both look at their friend with confusion on their faces.

“How do you know that?” Blaine asks.

“I happen to be an Eagle Scout. And an active member of the Audubon Society.”

“I didn’t know that!” Blaine pats his proud friend on the back. “Good for you, man!”

“Thank you,” Sam replies a la his favorite Elvis-impersonation. “Thank you very much.”

Kurt throws his arms up in frustration at the unexpected arrival of the mutual admiration society. “Okay! Great! They’re loggerhead shrikes! So?”

“Loggerhead shrikes are threatened. That means they’re protected. We can’t move them ourselves. We might not be able to move them at all without taking the tree with them.”

Kurt’s eyes bug. “We can’t … we can’t … the tree!? Oh great! This keeps getting better and better!”

“Kurt, relax.” Blaine takes the risk and puts his hands on Kurt’s shoulder. He tries to massage them, but they’re hard as rocks. “It’s okay. We can still sort this out.”

“And how do you suggest we do that!? Huh!? Our Christmas pageant, which your daughter is starring in by the way, and is supposed to start in …” Kurt spins around in search of a clock. When he can’t see the one on the far wall, ironical for the tree, he fishes his cell phone out of his pocket and checks the screen. His eyes bug out farther “… two minutes! has been hijacked by birds!”

“Look. They’ve been chill so far. Maybe we can have the pageant with them there and move them after. Problem solved.”

“You’re right,” Kurt agrees optimistically, seeing how, with no time to spare, this could be a feasible option. “We’ll let them stay! Problem solved! I mean, what’s a few birds? It doesn’t look like they can even fly yet. And they’re cute! They’ll add realism. They won’t be any trouble.”

“Not exactly,” Sam says, and Kurt as never wanted to punch him in the face so hard in his life. “There may be a whole other bigger problem.”

“And that is?”

“Those are the babies. Juveniles, specifically. I don’t see any moms. Or dads for that matter.”

“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” Kurt moans, resigned to whatever fate Sam’s knowledge is about to bestow upon them, “but … that’s a problem why?”

“Because loggerhead shrikes are protective. Being separated from their chicks, the parents will get aggressive. Also, if the babies don’t know where their parents are and they get nervous …” A series of jarring screeches interrupt Sam’s explanation. Kurt glares up at the birds, mouths open wide, cawing loudly into the air. Sam points up. “They’ll do that.”

“Great!” Kurt yelps, at the end of his rope. “So we have potentially agro birds loose in the theater, baby birds that spontaneously scream bloody murder, and a play set to start in half-a-minute, which we may have to postpone indefinitely in case we need to call animal control - do I have that right?”

“Basically, yes.”

“Well, skippidy do! Is there anything else!? Anything at all you’ve forgotten to tell me!? Because what else could possibly go wrong!?”

The doors at the back of the auditorium fly open and Kurt blanches, knowing that right then and there, his question is about to be answered.

“Kurt! Blaine! Come quick! It’s an emergency!”

“What? What, what, what is it now!?”

“Insane birds are dive bombing parents in line outside! Three people have already been pecked! Everyone is scattering! It’s like an Alfred Hitchcock movie!”

With the doors thrown open, Kurt can hear it – the panicked yells of parents outside, banging on the doors, begging to be let in. Above that, the shrieking of the birds searching for their babies echo through the halls, their screams so high-pitched and piercing, they make their way through the thick stone walls and heavy metal doors. Hearing their parents’ cries, the baby birds respond, frantically flapping their wings in an effort to take flight themselves and reach them.

Bitterly Kurt thinks all of his problems might be solved if they give it a go, plummet to the ground, and break their little birdie necks.

How un-festive of him.

Blaine looks sympathetically at his done-in husband. “Do you want me to go outside and handle this one alone?”

“No.” Kurt straightens his back, squares his shoulders, hands his clipboard over to Sam, and makes for the stairs to the stage, head held high like a gladiator going off to fight an unwinnable war. “I’ll go. Sam? Tell the teachers … there’s been a bit of a delay.”

“Right-y o, chief,” Sam says, leaving the stage with a solemn salute.

“And Blaine?”

“Yes?” Blaine says, falling in behind his husband, unwilling to let him walk off into the bird battle alone.

“Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“The next time I ask what could possibly go wrong - gag me.”

“Don’t say that …” Blaine smirks, preparing to die on the hill of bringing a smile back to his husband’s face. “Between that and all this bird talk, I can’t wait to get you home.”

[klaineanummel]

(b)romance

Everyone does dumb shit in high school. Some people skip classes too many times, or cheat on their tests. Kurt Hummel gets drunk and eats thirty-five diet pudding cups. 

guess who isn’t deaddddddddd. big thanks to mailroomorder who encouraged me to just write a dumb one-shot to get back into my creative writing gear. this is based off a tumblr post i saw the other day that inspired me in the way only dumb shit can (link to the post on ao3 -- link to ao3 in the sidebar). hope you enjoy!!

i.

It all starts at a dumb party Kurt’s junior year of high school.

Finn makes him come, claiming he wants his friends to get to know his new step-brother better. Kurt tries to argue that he’s actually known all these people since kindergarten, just as Finn has, and they just have different interests, but Finn is insistent. Kurt should have known that his dad marrying the most popular guy in school’s mom would come back to bite him in the ass.

Finn spends the entire ride to the party telling Kurt in great detail about everybody on the baseball team, going into the specifics of why he thinks Kurt will get along with each specific person.

“—and Ryder puts a lot of care into his hair, no idea why. And Mike is super into dancing and musicals and shit, so you’ll have a lot to talk about. And Puck may not look it, but he’s actually super invested in skin care for some reason. Oh, and Blaine is really into fashion, and musicals, too. He and Mike are actually always talking about—”

On, and on for the entire twenty minute ride to David Karofsky’s house.

By the time they arrive, Kurt is more than thankful that Finn agreed to be the designated driver for once, because Kurt really doesn’t think that he’ll be able to survive the evening sober if Finn is going to keep that up all night.

The first thing he does when he arrives is force Finn to show him where all the drinks are, and to show him how to make the mixed drink with the highest alcohol content but least amount of alcohol taste.

He knows he’ll probably regret it, but as soon as Finn finishes the drink, he downs the whole thing in as few gulps as possible, then holds out his cup so that Finn will make him another. Because Finn is a terrible influence, instead of suggesting he maybe stick to just one for now, he grins and says, “Fuck yeah, Kurt!” and pours even more crap into his cup.

The second drink doesn’t last long either, as Kurt feels the need to take a long pull from it every single time Finn drags him to someone new and says, “Hey, this is my new step-brother, Kurt,” to somebody that Kurt has literally known his entire life. He then has to take yet another drink when whoever it is inevitably says, “Yo, hey, great to meet you!” as though it actually is the first time they’re meeting.

To be fair, Finn and Kurt seem to have arrived a bit late, and so most of these people are already three sheets to the wind, but still.

The only person who doesn’t respond that way is Blaine Anderson, who stares at Finn for a few moments after he introduces Kurt, then sends a confused smile Kurt’s way and says, “Finn, you know that I know Kurt, right? We have calculus together and were in the same class every year in primary school.”

“Well, yeah,” Finn replies. “But now he’s Kurt my step-brother. So, you know. It’s different.”

Kurt’s eyes widen and he looks down at his nearly empty cup before lifting it to his lips and draining it. When he looks up, he sees Blaine giving him an amused smile and then saying, “Top you off?”

“Please,” Kurt says, allowing Blaine to finally drag him away from Finn.

He’s feeling pretty tipsy by the time Blaine hands him his new drink. It’s different than what Finn made him, but still good, and Kurt drinks half of it in one go.

“Whoa, there,” Blaine says, chuckling as he pours himself a drink. “Rough night?”

“Oh, you know,” Kurt says, glancing around the room. “Just enjoying being paraded around like a new toy and realizing just how inconsequential I’ve been to the people I’ve gone to school with for literally ever.”

Blaine snorts. “They’re just drunk, and probably indulging Finn a little bit. Guy’s really happy you two are brothers now.”

“Clearly,” Kurt replies, eyes falling on Finn who is excitedly pointing in his direction as he talks to a couple of cheerleaders. “Thanks for acknowledging we’ve met before.”

He turns back in time to see Blaine raise his cup and take a long drink from it. Kurt raises his own as well, then downs the rest of his own drink. He winces a little as he does it, but then holds his cup out to Blaine for one more. Blaine presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows, but still pours him another one.

“Pace yourself, yeah?”

“Will do, Mom.”

Blaine laughs, shaking his head a little. “You’re alright Hummel, you know that?”

Kurt shrugs and gives him a, ‘Duh’, face, which just makes Blaine laugh some more.

“Come on,” Blaine says, grabbing Kurt by the wrist. “I’ve just decided I want you as my beer pong partner for the night.”

Kurt’s never played beer pong before, or really any party game, but he goes along happily. Anything to get him away from Finn’s endless crusade to introduce him to every single popular kid at their school.

**

An hour later finds Kurt sitting on a ratty old couch, wasted, with an equally wasted Blaine Anderson laughing up against him.

“We’re so bad at beer pong,” Blaine says, head falling onto Kurt’s shoulder as he laughs. “So, so bad.”

Kurt laughs along with him. “So bad,” he closes his eyes as he laughs some more, then widens them as he lets out a loud burp. He and Blaine stare at each other for a second and then burst out laughing again.

“So much for pacing myself,” Kurt says, covering his mouth with his hand. It just makes Blaine laugh some more.

They laugh and laugh until Blaine sits up a little bit and says, “I’m so hungry.”

Kurt frowns, suddenly realizing that he’s hungry as well. “Well, let’s go eat something, come on.”

Blaine stares at him with wide eyes, then nods and says. “Yes. Yes, amazing idea.” He stands, wobbling a little once he’s on his feet, then drags Kurt up with him. Kurt wobbles a little as well, grabbing onto Blaine’s shoulders to steady himself. Once they’re both good, Blaine grabs his hand and says, “Come on, I know where Dave’s parents hide the good shit.”

The good shit, it turns out, is an insane hoard of diet pudding cups. Apparently Dave’s parents have been dieting together for a while, and diet pudding cups are the only sweet they’ve allowed themselves, because there are really a ridiculous amount of them in the back of the pantry.

“Oh, my god,” Kurt says as he stares at them. “I love diet pudding cups.”

“Me, too,” Blaine says, grabbing a butterscotch one and digging in. Kurt just keeps staring at all of them, taking in all the flavors, completely overwhelmed.

“Blaine, I can’t choose,” he whines after a while. Blaine is already scooping out the last of his own pudding cup and stares up at him with giant eyes.

“Well, here,” Blaine says, handing him one of the spoons they grabbed from the kitchen. “Just like, eat all of them.”

And Kurt, of course, being the idiot drunk teenager that he is, grabs the spoon and says, “You have the most amazing ideas,” before picking up a random pudding cup.

In Kurt’s defense, everybody does stupid shit in high school.

ii.

Kurt still barely feels human by Monday morning. Finn laughs at him the entire ride to school, and Kurt silently bares it until they reach the McKinley High parking lot. There, he storms out of the car and walks away, throwing Finn the middle finger as he goes because, dammit, this is his fault.

He doesn’t turn back to see Finn, but he can hear him laughing as he hurries to follow Kurt into the school.

He’s just settled all his things in his locker and grabbed what he needs for his first two periods when Dave Karofsky and Blaine Anderson walk up to him. Blaine looks just as hellish as Kurt feels, which he has to admit is a relief. Dave looks about as amused as Finn, which basically throws all the relief Kurt’s felt at seeing Blaine out the window.

“Hey there, Diet Pudding Cup Boy,” is how Dave greets him, and the sheer words cause nausea to swirl in Kurt’s stomach.

“Please don’t,” Kurt whispers, shutting his locker shut.

“No, dude, I’m super impressed,” Dave says, clapping him on the back and causing Kurt to wince. “I think I counted thirty-seven empty cups when I was cleaning up the next day. Never knew you had it in you.”

“In my defense,” Kurt says, closing his eyes for a moment, “Blaine ate two.”

Blaine groans, and yeah, Kurt realizes that that’s not really a great defense.

“So, thirty-five diet pudding cups.” Dave laughs, then claps him on the back again and says, “My fucking man,” before heading down the hall, leaving Kurt alone with Blaine.

Kurt turns to the other boy and glares. “This is your fault.”

Blaine has one eye closed. “Yep.”

“I threw up four times on Saturday.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Blaine says, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder.

“I ate thirty-five diet pudding cups, Blaine.”

Blaine raises his head and asks, “Does it make you feel better to know that the entire baseball team thinks you’re a legend now?”

Kurt sighs heavily, shaking his head. “At least they’ll all actually remember me now.”

Blaine smiles at him, chuckling a little. “Oh yeah. Nobody is forgetting Diet Pudding Cup Boy anytime soon.”

Kurt groans and Blaine laughs at him the entire rest of the way to Calculus.

iii.

“Yo, Pudding Cup Boy,” is how Blaine greets him as he settles into the spot next to Kurt in the library. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

Kurt turns away from his laptop to give Blaine an unimpressed stare. “You know, I think I liked it better when I was Diet Pudding Cup Boy. At least it gave the semblance of health.”

“Too long,” Blaine says, waving his comment away. “Seriously, though. All the schools you applied to are in New York?”

Kurt frowns. “Yeah? I thought I told you that.”

“Uh, no,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “What the hell! We could have coordinated. Made sure we applied to places in the same area so we could be roommates.”

Kurt’s frown instantly turns to a grin. “Wait. So, you—”

“Yes, you freaking dork.”

“Oh, my god!” Kurt throws his arms around his friend, pulling him in for a tight hug. Blaine laughs as he hugs Kurt back, briefly tucking his head into Kurt’s shoulder as he does. “Blaine, this is amazing!”

“I know,” Blaine grins as they separate. “Pudding Cup Boy and Shortstop Supreme take on the Big Apple.”

“You know, I’m too excited about the fact that we’ll be in New York together to even care that you just said that.” Kurt says, which makes Blaine laugh some more. Kurt keeps grinning at him for a moment, then says, “Actually, no—”

“Kurt, come on, this is going to be great! I was so nervous about moving to New York, you know, not knowing anybody. Now turns out one of my best friends is going to be there with me!”

Even though it’s been over a year since the fateful baseball party that brought them together, Kurt sometimes still can’t believe that Blaine Anderson considers him one of his best friends. It makes his insides feel all warm inside every time he hears Blaine say it.

“I can’t believe we didn’t talk about this. I could have sworn I told you I was applying to NYADA and NYU.”

“You didn’t, you rascal,” Blaine says, knocking his shoulder lightly. “It’s fine, though. I’ll forgive you if you promise you won’t abandon me for all your cool theater friends when we get there.”

Kurt scoffs at that. “Please, Blaine. As if Pudding Cup Boy could ever abandon his trusty sidekick… what did you call yourself?”

“Shortstop Supreme. And, no offense, but you’re the sidekick.”

Kurt stares at him, bewildered. “Um. No.”

Blaine laughs. “Kurt, you’re Pudding Cup Boy. Come on, man. You’re the sidekick.”

Kurt opens his mouth to argue, but then another thought occurs to him. “Oh, jeez. I just realized Pudding Cup Boy is going to follow me to New York, isn’t it?”

Blaine throws his arm around him and pulls him close, grinning and saying, “You know it,” before the librarian finally comes over to tell them to shut up.

iv.

Blaine greets him by shouting, “Hey, Pudding Motherfucker,” from about twenty feet away. Despite himself, Kurt can’t help but laugh as Blaine continues walking towards him, holding two cups of coffee in his hands.

Kurt stands up from the bench he’s on just moments before Blaine arrives to wrap him in a tight hug. Kurt hugs him back just as tight, then pulls away to grab his coffee from Blaine before anything unfortunate happens to it.

“I don’t think that’s an upgrade from Pudding Boy,” is how he replies after taking a careful sip of his drink.

“Well, it’s what you’ll continue to be until you make more time in your life for your best friend.” They sit down on the bench, Blaine instantly shuffling closer to Kurt. “I mean, come on, Kurt. It’s been almost a month since I last saw you.”

“We literally text every day,” Kurt says, chuckling. “Also, if I recall correctly, we were going to hang out two weeks ago, but somebody cancelled at the last minute because the cute guy in his Creative Writing class asked him to get coffee.”

Blaine scowls and turns away. “Whatever. At least I cancelled to get laid. You always cancel for lame reasons, like work or homework.”

Kurt snorts at that. “Blaine, you told me after that he was the most boring person alive, and that when he asked you for your number after coffee you told him you didn’t believe in cell phones.”

Blaine’s cheeks color, and Kurt bursts out laughing. Blaine mutters, “Shut up. See if I ever buy you coffee again.”

“Oh, whatever,” Kurt says, tapping him on the shoulder. “You know you will, because you love me.”

“Nope,” Blaine says, throwing his chin up in the air. “You’re a dick, and I hate you.”

“You loooooove me,” Kurt leans his head on Blaine’s shoulder and stares up at him, fluttering his eyelashes. “Admit it, Shortstop. You love me. Come on, say it.”

“Pudding Motherfucker is right,” Blaine grumbles, which just makes Kurt cackle.

“Come on,” he says, pulling them off the bench. “Let’s take a walk while I remind you of all the reasons you love me.”

“There are none,” Blaine says, and it just makes Kurt laugh some more.

v.

Despite attending different universities, by the time their junior year rolls around Kurt and Blaine have somehow managed to find a decently sized group of mutual friends. They’re a mix of Blaine’s Columbia classmates, Kurt’s classmates from NYU, and a few NYADA strays they picked up after a night at a karaoke bar.

It’s surprising to Kurt how many of his close friendships have been forged over drunken nights out.

It’s hard for all of them to get together on the regular, due to conflicting schedules and the fact that they’re all widely spread throughout the city, but when they do it’s always a blast.

“Hey, Puddin’,” Blaine says, greeting Kurt by hugging him from behind. Kurt leans his body into it for a moment, enjoying the closeness his friendship with Blaine always affords.

“We dropped the boy, huh Shortstop?”

“Too much of a mouthful,” Blaine says, shrugging and placing a large glass Tupperware on the counter of Kurt’s kitchen.  “Can I help you out with anything?”

Kurt points in the direction of a cabinet and says, “Can you grab the veggie plate thing for me and start throwing these on there,” he nods his head down to the large selections of vegetables on the cutting board in front of him. “And then the hummus and ranch from the fridge? I’m almost finished cutting these up.”

“You got it, boss,” Blaine says, moving around Kurt’s kitchen with the ease of somebody who spends way too much time in someone else’s house. “Did Rachel tell you that she’s bringing some guy with her today?”

“Oh, god. Another one?”

Blaine laughs, pulling down the serving plate. “Second this semester. How long do you think this one will last?”

“No idea, but I can tell you this – if by the next one of these she’s got another one in tow, I’m not making the effort to get to know him anymore. I can’t keep investing all this small talk in random straight guys I’m never going to see again.”

“What a struggle,” Blaine simpers, tapping Kurt on the back with the plate. “Our life is so hard.”

“It is,” Kurt replies, sticking his tongue out at his friend. “Now, come on. Get to vegetable serving. You said you wanted to help.”

Blaine chuckles. “Aye, aye Captain Pudding.”

“You know, Blaine,” Kurt says as Blaine starts to place the vegetables on the plate. “A lot of people would probably be offended that you still call them a dumb nickname born of a night of drunken idiocy when they were sixteen.”

“Yeah, but those people aren’t you,” Blaine says, grinning up at him. “I mean, name someone else as legendary as Thirty-Five Pudding Cups Hummel.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “They were diet pudding cups, thank you very much.”

“See?” Blaine bumps their hips together. “Legend.”

Kurt chuckles and finishes cutting up his carrots, Blaine practically pressed to his side as they work.

vi.

“You have to sing it with me,” Blaine is holding his arm tightly, dragging Kurt down so that they’re eye to eye. His breath smells like vodka and raspberries, and his eyes are wide and wild. “Come on, Kurt. Come on, come on, come on.”

“Blaine, I told you, I have a firm no songs before the 80’s rule.”

“It’s a classic. Please, Puddin’, for me?”

Kurt stares at him, the three shots he’d done early making his thought process a little slower. “Oh, my god,” he says, jaw dropping. “That’s why you want to sing it with me.”

“What?” Blaine pulls away a little, face filling with completely put-upon confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Build Me Up Buttercup? With Pudding Cup Boy? Uh-uh. No way, mister.”

“Kurt,” Blaine drags out the ‘u’ in his name, clinging to Kurt once again. “Please, you have to!”

“Oh, my god,” Elliott says, suddenly appearing beside them. “Can you just give your man what he wants? Jesus Christ, Kurt.”

“I don’t want to,” Kurt replies. “He just wants to sing it because—”

“Who fucking cares. It’s like a three minute song, just do it and get it over with.”

Blaine is staring up at him with those dumb puppy dog eyes of his, eyelashes fluttering wildly, lips pouted. Kurt groans.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” Blaine jumps up, presses a quick kiss to Kurt’s cheek and then hurries off to sign them up to sing.

“Thanks for the support there, El.”

Elliott shrugs, clearly unapologetic. “Come on, man, you know the saying. Happy wife, happy life!”

Kurt scowls. “Blaine is far from my wife, Elliott.”

“Whatever, potato, po-tah-to. Keep your man happy and everything will be good. Trust me on that.”

He pats Kurt on the back, then heads over to the table filled with their mutual friends. Kurt watches him go, brain still working far too slowly to catch up to the implications of what Elliott is saying.

Elliott is already long gone by the time he finally manages to say, “Blaine isn’t my man.”

“What?” Blaine asks, appearing next to Kurt.

Kurt jumps a little. “Jeez, Blaine. You can’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Not my fault I’m so tiny you never notice me,” Blaine huffs, chest puffing out in fake annoyance.

Despite it all, Kurt laughs. “You are tiny. Short stuff.”

“Uh, wrong,” Blaine holds up a hand. “It’s Shortstop, and I prefer to go by my Christian name, Shortstop Supreme.”

“Whatever, short stuff.”

Blaine scowls up at him. “I think Pudding Motherfucker might have just made a comeback.”

Kurt laughs again and wraps his arm around a pouting Blaine, leading him back to the rest of their friends.

vii.

The graduation party is held at Blaine, Sam, and Mercedes’s apartment, since all their graduation ceremonies were almost a full week after everybody else’s, and they insisted that nobody else could party until they were all officially graduated.

It’s a small party, for just their close friends, but you’d think that there was an army invited by the amount of alcohol their hosts provide.

“I don’t know when the next time we get to let loose like this will be,” is how Blaine explains it to Kurt, clinging to his side. It’s clear that Blaine had already broken at least a couple of these bottles in before everybody else arrived. “Since we’re all graduated and adults now. Have to get jobs and shit. Ew.”

Kurt laughs and doesn’t bother to tell Blaine that the next time they’ll ‘let loose’ like this will probably be within the month. Instead he just makes himself a drink and lets Blaine wrap his arms around his middle and rest his head against his shoulder blade.

“We met at a party; do you remember?” Blaine asks.

Kurt snorts. “We met in kindergarten, Blaine.”

“Well, yeah, but we officially met at a party. I made you a drink, and then you ate thirty-five pudding cups.”

Kurt chuckles, picking up his drink in one hand and wrapping the other around Blaine’s shoulders. “How could I forget when you still call me Puddin’ to this day?”

“Such a fun nickname,” Blaine says, grinning. “Although, hey. Full disclosure. Mercedes and Sam think we’re dating because of it.”

Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yes. And also because of how you’re always here, and we get dinner with them all the time. They call them ‘double dates’.”

“And do you correct them on that?”

Blaine looks up at him, frowning a little. “Do I?”

Kurt laughs. “Oh, Blaine.” He pulls his friend in closer. “Whatever. They’re not the first people to think that.”

“Yeah, and guess what? People can think whatever they want.”

“They sure can.”

“Because you’re my Puddin’. Forever, and ever. Okay?”

“You know it.”

Blaine grips his forearm tightly with both hands, staring up at him with slight crazy eyes. “I said, okay?”

Kurt laughs, then pulls Blaine back to his side and says, “Yes, Blaine. Forever and ever. Okay.”

“Good,” Blaine says, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder. “Now can you please hurry up and get drunk? This all feels very uneven.”

“You got it, boss,” Kurt says, rolling his eyes fondly as he starts to drink.

viii.

“Hey,” Rachel and Mercedes are already sitting at a booth by the time Kurt arrives. Mercedes looks behind his shoulder and says, “Isn’t Blaine joining us, too?”

Kurt nods, settling himself into the booth. “He got held up at work, but he’ll be here in a few.”

“Good, good,” Rachel says, nodding. “So, things are going well for him then, I assume?”

Kurt nods again, picking up the menu. “From what he’s told me. I mean, he’s basically a glorified intern at this point, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere, right?”

The looks the girls give him tell him that they know exactly what he’s talking about.

When the waiter arrives, they give him their drink orders, with Mercedes encouraging Kurt to order for Blaine. Their drinks arrive before Blaine has, and so Kurt decides to just order Blaine’s food for him as well. They’ve all been to this restaurant enough times that he can make a fairly educated guess as to what his best friend will want after a long day.

“It’s sweet you guys know each other so well,” Mercedes says once the waiter walks away with their menus and orders. “I don’t think Sam could order for me, even if he tried.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Well, Blaine is pretty obnoxiously open about the things he enjoys. Makes it hard not to know what he likes.”

“You still pay attention, though,” Rachel says. She sighs. “And he’s the same with you. Just wait until you see what he got you for your birthday, I swear you’re going to die. Even I didn’t remember that you’d said you wanted that, and I pride myself on my attention to detail.”

“That’s kind of what happens when you’re best friends for…” it takes him a moment to calculate. “Wow, going on seven years now. Jeez, when did we get so old?”

Mercedes and Rachel share a look, then Rachel starts in on a story about the theater company she’s currently working with.

Blaine finally arrives just as Rachel is finishing up. He scoots into the booth next to Kurt and says, “Sorry I’m late,” to everybody. Then, he grins at Kurt and says, “Hey, Puddin’.”

“Hey,” Kurt responds, ignoring the fond smiles that Rachel and Mercedes shoot at them. “We already ordered, sorry if you wanted something different.”

“Kurt got you some Greek salad or something,” Mercedes says.

“You,” Blaine points at him, finger directly in Kurt’s face. “Are amazing. A true gem.” He then uses the finger to bop Kurt on the nose and then slides closer to him in the booth until their thighs are pressed together.

“Yeah, I know,” Kurt replies, with a smile. He shifts a little, his right arm stuck between him and Blaine, until he manages to pull it out and sling it over the back of the booth. “Did you get that… what was the problem again? Broken printer? Fax machine?” Blaine is smirking up at him, clearly amused. “Whatever, did you get it sorted out?”

“Mostly,” Blaine says. “It was a corrupted hard drive, and it was the big boss’s, so you know. High pressure. I think it’s fine now, but I’m going to have to head back in early tomorrow to triple check.”

“Freaking IT nerd,” Kurt says, chuckling.

“Whatever, drama queen. Oh!” Blaine’s eyes widen and he turns to fully face Kurt. “How’d your callback go?”

“Callback?” Mercedes and Rachel ask at the same time.

Kurt blushes. “Uh, yeah. I got a callback for that off-Broadway revival of Dear Evan Hanson.” Turning to Blaine, he says, “I think it went well. I mean, I feel confident about it. They said they’d get back to me by Friday, so. Fingers crossed.”

“You’re gonna get it,” Blaine says, patting him lightly on the knee. “I know you are. I mean, there’s no way anybody even close to your level of talent auditioned.”

Kurt snorts. “Sweet talker. You know flattery will get you everywhere, right?”

“Of course I do,” Blaine grins at him.

Kurt smiles back, then glances over Blaine’s face and notices something different. He frowns, then brings his hand down from the back of the booth to pull on one of Blaine’s curls. “You didn’t gel your hair.”

“Don’t even start with me,” Blaine says, turning so that he’s facing the girls again. “Today was literally the morning from hell.” He starts to explain all the horror’s of his day, everyone listening with rapt attention.

It’s only when their food arrives that Kurt realizes he’d been playing with Blaine’s hair for the entire duration of the story.

ix.

“Honey, I’m home!” Blaine calls out as he enters the apartment. Kurt rolls his eyes as he finishes shaking the butter into the giant bowl of popcorn.

“Honey, you don’t live here!” He calls back.

Blaine laughs, padding into the kitchen and giving Kurt a hug from behind. “Roommates out?”

“Santana has a hot date,” Kurt says, passing the giant bowl to Blaine. “And Elliott is… god, I don’t even know anymore. That guy has so much going on I can’t even keep up.”

“Don’t we all?” Blaine says, heading towards the living room. “I thought we were busy during college, but sheesh.”

“Well, you see some of us have to work hard for what we get. We can’t get fancy pants promotions less than a year after starting at a company.”

Blaine tuts at him. “Don’t be jealous, Puddin’. It’s not a good color on you.”

Kurt chuckles and grabs a couple of sodas from the fridge.

“Besides,” Blaine says as Kurt walks into the living room, “it’s not like you can talk. Ensemble in Dear Evan Hanson off-Broadway to ensemble in Wicked on Broadway a year after graduating. Tony by Thirty, here you come.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Kurt says, settling on the couch and grabbing the remote. “What are we watching, by the way?”

“Shitty rom-com that Netflix put out a couple of weeks ago,” Blaine replies as Kurt pulls up the Netflix app on the TV. “It looks like it’ll either be garbage, or a real tearjerker, so I figured we’d take the odds.”

“Wonderful,” Kurt says as Blaine sits down next to him on the couch, bringing the popcorn with him.

“Hey,” Blaine holds up a piece of popcorn. “Nothing but the best for my Puddin’ Pop.” He then taps the popcorn against Kurt’s lips and feeds it to him when Kurt opens his mouth.

They start the movie and, honestly, it’s more shitty than good, but they still laugh and make stupid comments to each other about it. Blaine feeds Kurt pieces of popcorn a little more often than necessary, until it becomes another stupid joke and Kurt stops grabbing his own popcorn full stop.

The movie is just finishing up and Blaine is forcing a giant handful of popcorn into Kurt’s mouth when Elliott arrives. He stares at them for a moment, Kurt with his cheeks distended from the snack, Blaine with his hand fully covering Kurt’s mouth, their movie completely ignored. Elliott then shakes his head and says, “I don’t even want to know,” before disappearing into his room.

They’re quiet until they hear his door shut, and then burst out laughing, causing half of the popcorn in Kurt’s mouth to spray all over Blaine’s face. This just makes them laugh harder.

x.

It feels like lately Blaine is the only one of his friends he gets to see. His roommates always seem to be out, Santana with her new girlfriend and Elliott with his ten million gigs. Rachel just got cast in the national tour of Moulin Rouge! and has barely had time to breathe, let alone see her friends, and Sam and Mercedes have been apartment hunting for their own place, having decided it was time to try living as just a couple, without the roommate.

Of course, that roommate happens to be Kurt’s best friend, who is sulking on his couch and slowly taking out an entire family sized bag of Cheetos by himself.

“It’s going to be okay, Blaine. You know that, right?”

“I’m going to be homeless, Kurt.”

“You are not,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “They’re leaving, not you. You still have the apartment.”

“Uh yeah, an apartment whose rent I am paying a third of. I can’t afford the full rent of that place!” He huffs, shoving more Cheetos in his mouth. “Maybe I could swing half, but that means I still have to find another roommate. Fuck everything.”

“Oh, come here,” Kurt laughs and wraps his arm around Blaine, bringing him in against his side. He pulls the bag from Blaine’s hands, then grabs a tissue from the coffee table in front of him and starts wiping the dust off his friends fingers. “It’s going to be fine, Blaine. Really.” Blaine huffs. “No, listen. I know it seems tough right now, but you already knew they were thinking about this. Yeah, it’ll be weird at first, but you’re going to get used to living alone, or with a new roommate that isn’t Sam and Mercedes. Besides, you literally just got promoted at work, and I happen to know that you’re making more than enough to afford that place on your own, at least for a bit.” He finishes wiping Blaine’s fingers, then smiles up at him. “You’re going to be okay, Blaine. Really.”

Blaine stares at him for a moment, face slowly cracking into a smile. “What would I do without you?”

Kurt shrugs. “No idea. You’ll never have to find out.”

Blaine chuckles, then leans into Kurt, head resting against his shoulder. His now-clean fingers trace a pattern on Kurt’s knee, and Kurt closes his eyes, enjoying the closeness.

“Hey, Kurt.”

“Yeah?” Kurt asks, keeping his eyes closed and head leaning back against the back of the couch.

“Are we in a relationship? Or a brolationship?”

Kurt lifts his head slowly, opening his eyes to look at Blaine. “What?”

“I mean, this. Us. Are we dating? Or do we just have one of those epic bromances that straight people are always talking about.”

He’s still tracing patterns over Kurt’s knee, and Kurt sucks on the inside of his cheek, thinking.

“Huh,” Kurt says. “I, uh. I guess I haven’t thought about it, really. I mean, I know people have made comments to me assuming we’re dating, but…”

“But…?”

Kurt looks into Blaine’s eyes, those stupid huge, wide eyes. He can’t really remember a time in his life when they weren’t right where they are now, staring up at him in question, in glee, in frustration.

Kurt smiles, then says, “We can be dating, if you want.”

His stomach flips as he says it, and it’s weird because in eight years of friendship he’s never even thought about Blaine that way. At least not consciously. The thing is, that doesn’t really register to him, because then Blaine is smiling up at him and he realizes that maybe that’s not totally true. That maybe he has thought about Blaine that way, he’s just never realized it because Blaine’s just always been there, teasing him, laughing with him, cuddling with him and calling him Diet Pudding Cup Boy since they were sixteen years old.

“Okay,” is how Blaine replies, and then he leans up and presses his lips to Kurt’s in a soft, light kiss.

Kurt smiles into the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup Blaine’s jaw, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

It’s not weird, not in the way kissing your best friend might be. Actually, Kurt thinks it’s weirder that they haven’t always been doing this.

“You taste like Cheetos,” he says.

Blaine laughs, head falling back as he does. He then rests his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder and says, “You taste like pudding.”

Kurt snorts. “I do not.”

“No, but it would have been pretty hilarious if you did.”

He keeps laughing, and so Kurt does the only thing he can think of. He grabs Blaine’s face in his hands and kisses him again.

xi.

“You two seem touchier than usual,” Elliott comments over dinner a couple of weeks later. He and Santana are sitting across from them, with Sam and Mercedes each at an end of the table. Blaine has had his arm over Kurt’s shoulders the entire meal, and Kurt has kept a hand firmly on Blaine’s thigh since he sat down. “Did you get engaged, or something?”

Kurt snorts. “Uh, no.”

“We’re just, you know. Officially dating now.”

Santana’s eyes narrow. “Were you… not before?”

“Yeah, what are you even talking about? You guys have been dating for like, years,” comes from Sam.

“We were bromancing for years,” Blaine says, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder. “Now we’re just straight up romancing.”

Kurt wrinkles his nose and says, “Gross.”

“Whatever, Puddin’, you love it.”

“So…” Elliott glances between them. “That, right there. The Puddin’ thing. That’s just like… a random nickname you have for Kurt? It’s not a pet name?”

Blaine frowns. “Is that why everyone always thought we were dating? Because I call him Puddin’?”

“Well, and all the touching and cuddling and heart-eyes,” Mercedes says. “But initially, yeah, it was the Puddin’ thing.”

Kurt snorts at that, and Blaine laughs before saying. “Uh, I call Kurt Puddin’ because the night we became friends he got drunk and ate thirty-five diet pudding cups.”

For a moment nobody says anything, the only sound in the room Kurt and Blaine’s snickers.

It’s Elliott who breaks the silence by staring at Kurt says, “What the literal fuck, Kurt. Thirty-five pudding cups?!”

Kurt and Blaine’s snickers turn into full-on laughs, Blaine resting up against Kurt as they laugh. Mercedes and Sam start to chuckle as well, though Santana and Elliott still look slightly too horrified to join in.

After several more minutes of laughing, Kurt wipes at his eyes and says, “Yes, El. I ate thirty-five diet pudding cups when I was sixteen years old.”

“The greatest Pudding Motherfucker to ever live,” Blaine says, bringing his hand up to card his fingers through the hair at the back of Kurt’s head.

Kurt grins at him and says, “Diet Pudding Cup Boy and Shortstop Supreme for ever.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Blaine replies, leaning in and kissing Kurt lightly on the lips. They giggle into the kiss.

Santana finally breaks her silence by saying, “You two are fucking weird.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and then, unable to stop themselves, burst out into even more giggles.

[audikatia]

2.20 Prom Queen

Rating: 5/5. I really, really love this episode. Like, do I even want to watch the rest of the series? Does it get better than this?

Best Song: I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You. This is one of my favorite songs of all time being sung by my celebrity crush. It can’t lose.

Memorable Quote: “What’s the point of dressing up? I mean, that’s why some guys wear the tails with the top hats and the girls wear the hoop skirts.” -Kurt

General Notes:

Mercedes, you have another prom next year to be wooed like the queen you are. Don’t fret.

Kurt’s excitement over Blaine agreeing to go to prom with him has extended my lifespan by approximately ten years. He’s just so pure and happy. I also really love that he did give Blaine an out if it made him too uncomfortable given Blaine’s past trauma with dances, and I love that Blaine told Kurt how crazy he is about him and that he’s willing to give dances another chance with Kurt. I really think they make each other better.

Rachel, Mercedes, and Sam all going to prom is adorable and I love how Rachel and Mercedes came up with a fun way to work within budget restraints. Makes me kinda want to go to prom again

Oh, okay, Jesse! I see you! That raspy rocker voice can get it

I’m really glad I didn’t get involved in all with prom queen bullshit. It seems really un-fun, doing all that campaigning and planning. And then if you don’t win, not only did you have a really stressful few weeks leading up to the night, but then you have a bummer of a night instead of a fun time with friends. That just sorta sucks.

RACHEL. YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN SUPPORTIVE OF FINN AND QUINN.

Also, Rachel you came up with a corsage for Quinn really quickly. God, they just write fic for themselves, don’t they?

Karofsky can’t really pull off that beret, huh?

I feel really bad for Artie. Yeah, he shouldn’t have called Brittany stupid, but he just found out Brittany had been inadvertently cheating on him and that Santana had been taking advantage of Brittany’s naivety. And it’s not his fault that the writers just needed to break them up so she and Santana could be together.

Finn immediately accepting and complimenting Kurt’s prom outfit that Kurt’s clearly proud of warms my cold, dead heart. Again, I love any scene with Burt involved because he is just so perfect. He runs that careful line of wanting Kurt to be exactly who he wants to be but also wanting his kid to be safe. And if I’m being honest, I’m with Burt and Blaine on this one. Blaine went through a pretty horrific attack at his last dance. If my significant other had gone through something like that, I wouldn’t want to do anything that might make them a target again. That’s not to say that Kurt’s outfit isn’t slamming, it is. But I get both sides of the argument.

Also, happy birth of a thousand Kurt-in-a-skirt porn fics.

Oh, also also, Finn has a cup of milk! I can only assume it’s a cup of warm milk that Kurt brought to him <3

Kurt is so optimistic and so certain of the good in the world. And I love that he’s actually kind and supportive to Karofsky when he has every right to be a dick to him. This is also why I like Karofsky because when given the chance to see that he might be accepted, he actually starts becoming a better person. I’m not saying it’s okay that he threatened to kill Kurt, but I do think he (and other people like him) should be given the chance to become better people. Sometimes I think when someone is a bully once, they are painted as a bully forever. We have to allow people to redeem themselves. Isn’t that what we want? We want the bullies to learn their lessons and become good people? Isn’t that better than wanting the bullies to always be bullies and then have shitty lives when they get older? I prefer redemption to punishment. I find that more satisfying, especially when it breaks away from the cycle of abuse.

Kurt is hella attractive in this scene with Karofsky.

And Quinn is so fucking gorgeous with all the mirrors around her, omg. I want to be her. Also, I love that she doesn’t seem to care much that Finn is there to pick her up. Because her focus is, as it always is, on the goal not the person.

Sam, Mercedes… just back out of the conversation with Rachel and Jesse. I have met people like Jesse. Don’t get sucked in.

Puck and Artie is an underrated friendship and I actually really love it

Quinn telling Finn how happy she is to be there with him right after Rachel sang to him is such a good manipulative move. If she had been in Game of Thrones, she would have won.

Oh, Sam and Mercedes are precious. They are both such good people

Artie’s hair looks amazing

Darren Criss singing one of my favorite songs is legitimately going to kill me. The way he’s dancing with the mic stand? Holding the mic sideways? His expressions? I am deceased.

Also, what a lame fight with Finn and Jesse. Just shoving? C’mon, punch each other like adults.

THE REVEAL. Remember when it was spoiled and everyone thought the spoiler was fake? lol good times, classic Glee. Okay, but I have a lot of thoughts on this. 1. Why did Figgins read out Kurt’s name? If I was the principal, I would have said the name of one of the girls on stage. Kurt did not need to be humiliated like that. 2. Quinn and Santana, I get that it’s upsetting to work that hard, but shut the fuck up. It’s not that you weren’t liked or that people give enough of a shit about Finn and Rachel that they didn’t vote, it’s that they are cruel people who cared more about making fun of Kurt. 3. YAS QUINN. SLAP RACHEL. This shit is so compelling. 4. KURT. BABY. He wants so badly to see the good in the world and they just won’t let that happen for him. And bless Blaine for going after him, for comforting him, for willing to do whatever Kurt wants to do to feel better. May we all have a Blaine in our lives.

Also, Blaine had tissues ready? I have literally never met a man who had tissues in his pocket or whatever. Blaine is a dream.

AND THEN BLAINE ASKS HIM TO DANCE. This man is a dreamboat, I swear. And this is such a big moment for both of them, Kurt being openly loved and Blaine replacing the memory of his last dance. Ugh, I love them so much.

[bigskydreaming]

princeescaluswords replied to your post:

Alex Summers, after the most recent of 128979889...

Why don’t you write Marvel? You couldn’t possibly do any worse and I could use the laughs!

Lol, its a nice dream, but realistically I don’t think there’s any universe in which Marvel would ever let me write the X-Men. 

Like, my very first story would probably have Bobby refreezing the Arctic while Storm heads up a team of elementals to combat climate change. And then a Republican senator and a Democrat senator would go on TV and make a bipartisan show of expressing their gratitude towards mutants for helping save the planet and this is the real future of humanity, this is them all building a world where they can live side by side in a mutually beneficial -

And then the broadcast would cut off because Cypher just hacked every satellite worldwide and said “all your binary codes belong to me now, resistance is futile, blah blah” before turning the camera to Sunspot who’s all decked out in his snazziest suit and dressed to the nines. Roberto yawns and flips the whole world off and says “LOL fuck you, the X-Men are done with respectability politics, we took a vote and our democratic process actually works, we don’t have a fucking electoral college. We only saved the planet because it happens to be the planet we live on, dipshits, nobody did it for you, you’re still cordially invited to go extinct. Or you can play nice and try getting along with the rest of us for a change but good luck trying to make Sentinels happen again, lmao, funding’s gonna be an issue for you pretty soon I think.”

He turns off the camera and goes back to planning his and Sam’s wedding, because look, I have my priorities, okay.

Then Mystique unleashes her new Fellowship of Evil (Same Name, But This Time Its Evil as in STFU, Its Ironic U Assholes) Mutants that she’s been recruiting from the ranks of the young and disenchanted. Overnight, the market is flooded with gold and gems transmuted from ordinary materials by mutant powers, as well as a bunch of shit ‘liberated’ from the coffers of the 1% via her Fellowship’s alliance with her son-in-law’s Thieves’ Guild. Value plummets instantly, and then technopaths join in the fun, crashing every banking system worldwide.

“Whoopsie, I broke capitalism, money’s worthless now, vive la revolution, everyone eat some fucking cake,” Raven sing-songs merrily from the chaise she’s lounging on while eating grapes. The city outside her window is burning. Meanwhile, a fiddler is playing nearby. She calls him Nero, because Aesthetic.

“Oh relax,” she rolls her eyes when Remy attempts to frown at her disapprovingly. “I had my teleporters evacuate the city before I set it on fire. I’m not a heartless monster, you know.”

“You mean you didn’t want to spend the next ten years dealing with your children yelling at you about innocent civilians and how could you,” Remy says dryly.

Mystique just shrugs and eats some more grapes. “Or that.”

Far-right dominated police forces and white supremacist militia groups attempt to forcibly establish martial law, except mostly they’re just standing around clutching their heads and trying to cope with the mother of all migraines as a gestalt of telepathic minds headed up by a Cerebro-powered octet of Jean, Emma, Betsy, Rachel, Quentin, and the Stepford Cuckoos psychically screams FAKE NEWS!!! into their brains every time their CO’s attempt to bark out new orders.

“Best school project ever,” Quire shouts. Emma smirks.

“Extra credit to the first person to psychically leak the full extent of just how extensively governments have invaded their citizens’ privacy with surveillance extremism in the name of national security.”

Jean attempts a half second of chastisement, but with them all linked this closely, there’s really no way to hide that she’s mostly just amused. Oh no, she and Emma are seeing eye to eye on something and there are witnesses and everything. The revolution was a mistake.

Atlanteans and mutant hydrokinetics team up to shove the worst oil and toxic waste and trash spills up onto the shores of every beach marked ‘privately owned’. The mile-wide ‘island’ of plastic debris that formerly sat in the middle of the Pacific is now parked off the coast of Malibu.

There’s a twenty foot demon from Limbo sitting in the Oval Office. It burps. Illyana beams and boops its nose. “Good boy.” It wags its tail and breaks the Oval Office.

Kitty and Kurt direct teams of similarly powered mutants in raiding the top secret R&D facilities of major pharmaceutical companies for all their research on diseases that never made it to mass production because they decided those treatments or cures wouldn’t be profitable in the long run because healthy people don’t need to spend a ton of money on medical care. Teams of healers are standing by to vet the viability of various research, while Hank, Cece and other mutant geniuses are already working on filling in the gaps on all the projects that were shutdown and Forge, Madison Jeffries and tech-based geniuses are converting existing infrastructure into the necessary machinery to take over mass production of these drugs, prosthetics, and sweatshop labor in general.

Speedsters and teleporters are redistributing food and stocking up the millions of properties worldwide that have just been sitting there empty for god knows how long, useless. Colossus is standing in the smashed remains of a mansion with his arms crossed sternly while a man who is definitely not meant to resemble the CEOs of either Tesla or Amazon or look like some kind of Musky Bozo hybrid cowers on the floor.

“You are a very stupid man,” Colossus says. “Why are you wasting billions funding research into space travel when there are aliens with a strong grasp of the technology in the ships that brought them here on every superhero team on Earth? You could have easily provided the Earth with working and widely accessible space travel by now if you weren’t so miserly.”

“Yeah,” Juggernaut says behind him, scratching his head. “Aliens have been coming and going from this planet for like fifty years. There are tons of fancy spaceships anyone could’ve just reverse engineered and mass produced by now. How come nobody’s ever done that and we’re all just acting like space travel is some far-off dream when everyone we know’s been to space like at least ten times?”

“Stupid people,” Colossus rumbles again. Musky Bozo wets himself and Piotr sighs and shakes his head. He didn’t even touch him.

Cyclops and Wolverine and their teams of bruisers are already done with the ICE facilities and have progressed to busting open prisons and liberating all nonviolent offenders. They inform everyone else that they can appeal to a panel of telepaths to read their minds and see for themselves that they’re innocent.

“Guilt determined by mind-reading?” Someone asks. “Lots of potential for sketchiness there.”

“Absolutely,” Scott says. “Which is why laws about boundaries and oversight have to be established. For now, its a volunteer basis only. Nobody has to get their mind read, but its an option available in the meanwhile as we sort out a better system for determining who’s been imprisoned for crimes of premeditated malice and abuse and who’s just been railroaded by an unjust and biased system.”

“So this is your new utopia, huh?” Sneers the prison warden, from the floor where he’s on his ass with a busted face because, idk, Reasons.

Scott just shakes his head. “No. It’s merely a start.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but if its broke and you wanna fix it, you gotta start somewhere,” Logan says gruffly. “Shit was broke. This is ‘starting somewhere.’”

He and Scott share a very Passionate look of camaraderie. Rogue sighs loudly.

“Just fuck already, jfc.”

Logan grunts. He already offered, but apparently all Personal Business must wait until after the Revolution was over, because a Scott Summers who put himself first was very clearly an impostor, so its not like Logan could even fucking get mad considering Scott putting in a pin in sucking each other’s faces after their We Were Both Dead But Now We’re Not and Also What the Fuck Was Up With Us For the Five Whole Years Before That reunion was what confirmed that it was definitely the Real Scott’s tongue in his mouth.

“Alright, let’s move it people,” Logan barks, clapping his hands. “There’s three more joints to hit before sundown. We got a timetable here.”

Jubilee squints at him suspiciously. “Since when are you efficient?”

“Mind your own fucking business.”

At no point does anyone suggest they erase the most sacred sites of all the world’s major religions and call them all fake or randomly resurrect a bunch of dinosaurs and release them on unsuspecting and innocent populations, because those are terrible ideas and make no sense and just because they’re stinkin’ commies now doesn’t mean they’re fucking morons.

Also, nobody grows a ridiculous beard or stops using shampoo or starts wearing flip flops or robes, because apparently those are not actually essential components of being a stinkin’ commie or even just a garden variety peace-aspiring socialist. They checked. Extensively. It was almost a dealbreaker. Emma, Monet and Roberto all threatened to side with the Capitalist Pigs if that was not thoroughly clarified before proceeding any further.

Thus ends my first issue. I email Marvel the script. They email it back, almost entirely redacted in red, with the note “This isn’t quite what we were looking for. Do you have anything about a new cure for mutants, maybe?”

I email them back: LOL NO. MAGNETO WAS RIGHT.

I am promptly fired.

I go back to ranting about how Marvel sucks on the internet.

[justasmallbloginabigklainefandom]

The Great ATOG Reread; Grey part 2

Well, this is different.

Chapter 5

She flexes her hands, and doesn't lower her head. "I just held him. Just for a second, I just used telekinesis to - he always thinks he can walk out as soon as he wan-" "You -" Oh god no. "Jesus. Jesus, don't ever do that, what the hell were you -"

I. FUCKING. HATE. HER.

I AM LITERALLY SHAKING WITH RAGE, JUST LIKE PHALANX. I KNOW HE’S AFRAID OF HIMSELF, BUT AT THIS MOMENT I WISHED HE’S BLASTED HER HEAD OFF.

I know she will redeem herself, and she will even be a great friend to both of them (fuck, even Santana will redeem herself), but I am getting so tired of her attitude. I am getting so tired that she is satisfied by watching people hurt. 

Just FYI, if you’re reading this, with ATOG and the first four chapters of Grey, I read them on my eReader (going against my ‘no fic on my eReader’ rule, but then again, these two are completely different stories), and then write posts afterwards. I have the actual fic open on a different tab so that I can copy quotes and shit. Because of that, I clicked the “part 5″ link and I guess chapter 5 will be a liveblog?

Anyway, back to Quinn. I will end up loving everyone on that team, including Quinn and Satan (heh), since they will redeem theirselves and they have a valid reason for their behaviour, and I am all for character growth and giving them a chance, and they will take that chance, but that still doesn’t really excuse that these two women bullied them.

"Sidekicks should be seen and not heard."

I mean, really. As a feminist, Quinn of all people should know that this is not acceptable. Change ‘Sidekicks’ to ‘Women’ and we can talk about a shit ton of history of opression and wow, Quinn would delve on that cause she’s feminist as fuck.

The conversation/fight she has with Agent Sylvester and the Ghost is the first step to redeeming herself (and to unraveling the secret)

And she stares back at him quivering with rage, but he sees the second of something else behind her eyes, because he knows every nuance of fear, every facet of it, he is as fluent in fear as in French . . .

Quinn, I love you, but you are not stronger than him.

The evening is a bit weird after that. Quinn is reserved, and as a reader you know why. Santana is bitching, but tell me something new. Phalanx is once again asking for a ‘normal’ evening, right after he got to Blaine problem no. #1. He’s not a sidekick.

(Really, I should list these problems. OKaY. For future reference, the sidekick thing and everything involved is Blaine’s problem no. #1, the want for normal non-hero shit is no. 2#. Kurt losing grip of his powers is Kurt’s problem no. #1)

It's never been like this. He didn't know it was supposed to be like this. He wants to kiss him but he doesn't want to break the dance, he doesn't want it to end, not ever, the warmth of his breathing body in Phalanx's arm and his hand given to his. He wants to say, Do you understand how rare this is - ? but he thinks that he knows that, the Ghost who never even asked to be in love, wouldn't have thought to ask to be loved, he knows that. How many people do you meet, and how many could ever know you to dance like this, slow and trusting like there's nothing but the way they move and the way the music moves them, nothing but the safety of the other's body, and the Ghost's arm tucking him closer by the waist, the Ghost's hip against his with each step because they know.

For the first time, they dared to show a little bit of themselves and their relation in front of the team.

Chapter 6

Well, I’m on a roll now.

AND HOLY SHIT GUESS WHAT’S BACK? THE FUCKING FANDOM. I can’t tell you if I’ve missed them or not.

Well, I sure as fuck did miss Draxie, BB, and Ghostly. What a way to reintroduce them. Draxie is cheerful and bubbly, talking about drabbling. BB isn’t even online, but someone recs her fic. And Ghostly is mentioned because people are afraid of her, but shit son, she’s right with her meta about entitlement.

Blaine grunts, still scrolling. Damned fandom, it's a full-time job just to keep up with it . . .

He’s right, though. He braces himself for the meta, and oh, how I missed Ghostly.

P&G: Because they, the idiot ignorant children, fetishize homosexuality in the most contorted and disturbing way possible. Because they're fine with him being gay - happy that he's gay, since they can use his name and form for all their little m/m fantasies on a whole different level of appropriation now. But how dare he, human being in his own life, how *dare* he not conform to strict gender stereotypes at the same time. He's perfectly well allowed to be gay, as long as he does it the 'right way'. God forbid he be any kind of queer that disturbs them, though. TV: There was a lot of negativity.

P&G: They don't want to see a male hero stand in a 'feminine' pose. It demeans him. It makes him less heroic.

But wait, there’s more

P&G: I have a rant brewing, if that's what you mean. The fandom entitlement complex links into fandom sexism in a really strange and powerful way. Because fandom feels like it *owns* its figures of fetishization; they are what they are because we made them that. There is an enormous sense of ownership, like they're just the scaffolding, *we* construct who they are. And of course, they can't live up to that. They're real people, not our dolls. And when they fail to live up to our particular construction we either ignore the facts and go on as before or else we get *really fucking angry*. How *dare* they be actual human beings. They're supposed to be *my doll*, not any real person. Especially not any complicated real person! They should be as simple as possible because I can't conceptualize more than three personality traits in my head at any one time, I am *actually* that dumb! TV: Ahem. Plus we live in a patriarchal society and we construct our dolls along the strict and misogynist gender lines given to us, which oversimplifies them in very dangerous ways.

The entire ‘dolls’ thing is still a thing I use to descibe how I feel about fandom and RPF shipping. I love you, Ghostly, for that brilliant metaphor.

This is not a hero/sidekick relationship. They have strengths and weaknesses and they complement each other. They actually are, in every sense of the word, partners.

Oh boy, if only more of the fandom would get this. It would save Blaine all the shit from problem 1#.

And oh shit.

Time for a...

Blaine's hit back from the post he was on - no way in hell he'll read all that text - and while he's been asleep the fandom's . . . "Oh Jesus." he mutters, and rubs his forehead. "Blaine, what?" "There, um, I don't know, something . . ."

Wankfest.

A human being, scared for real reasons in a genuinely scary world, came to us to reach out for another human being to not feel alone. You bullied them into deleting their blog within a matter of hours. Well *done*, fandom. This really is the grossest mockery of everything that the Ghost and Phalanx, unlike you, actually bother to do. Which is to think about someone else and not just themselves for every single second of every fucking day. The _1_and_only, if you do see this, fuck all of them; they don't know what courage means, they're both too stupid and too spineless to understand the concept. Not all people are like them. When you ask people for help, sometimes they will not be ugly self-absorbed morons, sometimes they will try to *help* you. The Ghost and Phalanx taught us that if nothing else. I hope that you're well, and good luck with your life and your powers. If your power turns out to be the ability to smack people at a great distance, I advise you to not be afraid to use it as much as you fucking need. And now I'm getting a drink because fandom can, very seriously, go fuck itself.

You also get someone shitting on Draxie? I mean, people shitting on Ghostly is just, well, ‘normal’, but this is Draxie and - wow, no surprises, it’s about entitlement. Did. They. Not. Read. That. Meta?

Blaine sits in his desk chair feeling strange and sad, while Kurt takes his post-aikido nap on the bed. He'd had to lie to him, earlier, after swallowing his own shock, because he doesn't know what it would do to Kurt of all people to find out that people were being abused on the internet in some weird way on his behalf. And he'd looked really honestly scared at what Blaine might have been stunned by online, Kurt doesn't understand and isn't entirely comfortable with the Ghost's fans and he'd had no idea what they might have done, in his mind it could be anything and it's really not like Blaine could tell him the truth . . .

But really, guys, doesn’t it fuck you up?

Doesn’t it fuck you up that people fight and hurt on behalf of their idols because ‘they love them’? 

I never got that. I remember when Heather Morris fans were bashing Darren, because they loved Hemo. Or when Darren fans bashed Dianna. BECAUSE THEY LOVE DARREN? And so on. We do not know anything about their off-social media relationship.

People in fandoms hurt and harrass people on behalf of their idols.

BECAUSE THEY LOVE THEM.

Jesus.

Phalanx . . . it's different in difficult ways when it's him and not Blaine. People talk about Phalanx and he mostly lets it run off his back, he knows it's nothing to do with him, really. He knows the way they talk about the Ghost is nothing to do with Kurt, after all. He lets himself keep the good things. He knows that every time they say that the Ghost is brave and strong and good and beautiful it's true, so he lets himself keep the good things they say about Phalanx, and he tries to ignore the rest. Haters gonna hate. But it must be so hard to ignore them when they're saying it right to you, safe behind a computer screen's shield. How can it be okay to say that to someone just because you don't have to look into their eyes and see the person they actually are, the person you're actually hurting . . . ?

The phandom bashes the Ghost, because they love Phalanx.

The fanghosts bash Phalanx, because they love the Ghost.

And this will all lead to the combination of Blaine problem 1# and 2#. 1#, because why can’t people see they’re equal and that this isn’t hero/sidekick and 2#, because how can he stand it that people use his hero identity to hurt others?

Kurt might feel bad for leaving New York City astray, but Blaine can’t handle leaving the fandom astray.

[newagesispage]

                                                            NOVEMBER            2019

PAGE RIB

 Look for the production of Boeing Boeing at the Hyde Park Opera House in Vermont. Director Gene Heinrich will bring the story on Nov. 8-10 and again the 15th -17th. Woo Hoo!

*****

Amber Guyser was found guilty and the strange part was the hugs she got from the judge and the victim’s brother.

*****

Robot Chicken is back for season 10.

*****

Days alert: Little Arianna is out.

*****

Word is that Mike Pence is behind the scenes working on health and human services. He has hired Alex Azar to revamp title 10 by putting $ into Obria which emphasizes abstinence. It’s sort of like a global gag rule. The conscious and religious freedom division helps medical workers who don’t want to help people if said patient lives against their faith.

*****

It’s been ruled that Northern Ireland’s abortion ban is a breach of the UK’s human rights commitments.

*****

The Native American Voting Rights Coalition has conducted hearings to get the lowdown on the trouble that exists in Native American voting rights. The barriers include poverty, closeness to polls and mailing addresses that include RR#’s and post office boxes. Let’s make the process easier for everybody.  We should all be able to vote!

*****

Congresswoman Katey Hill is getting divorced and losing her position after photos of her with another woman and a bong surfaced.

*****

Tim Ryan is out!

*****

John Kelly warned Trump of impeachment.

*****

Trump’s brother Robert was awarded a $33 million government contract.

*****

Why do all the older stars want to dance their way on to a talk show?? UR hip, we get it!!

*****

What DOJ?? A criminal investigation into the origins of the Russia probe?? Seriously??

Did ya see the Fallon interview with Joaquin Phoenix? It just sort of shows how wrong Jimmy can be. I think Phoenix was ready to take over the whole operation.** Joker got the biggest October opening ever.

*****

Inside the Actor’s Studio is back.

*****

Matt Lauer was accused of the rape of Brooke Nevils and NBC covered it up. Anne Curry and others have stood up for Nevils. It seems the management at NBC has themselves been charged with their own misconduct and tried hard to keep Ronan Farrow from telling us all about it. Comcast, NBC and Noah Oppenheim are in a bit of a spot.

*****

The NBA is distancing themselves from the coach who tweeted support for human rights but then they apologized. China has been pulling merch and cancelling games. Many companies including Mercedes and Tiffany are really trying to keep China happy.

*****

Drew Barrymore will debut a talk show for CBS.

*****

Thru all the crap that Kathy Griffin went through, at least she now owns all her shit. See the new movie she made:  A Hell of a Story

*****

ABC will bring us Craig Ferguson in the game show, The Hustler.

*****

If you haven’t heard Brittany Howard’s new Jaime album, do it now!! The song Stay High is so fab.

*****

Larry king is getting a divorce from Shawn Southwick King after 22 years.

*****

Zoe Kravitz is the new Catwoman.

*****

HBO is giving Sarah Silverman a late night pilot and a stand up special.

*****

Shep Smith is out at FOX. He shocked most everyone by leaving in the middle of his contract. He claims that it was his decision. Some say a WH rep visited with Fox management before the announcement.

*****

Pierre Delecto is the fake twitter account of Mitt Romney. ! ?

*****

The Nobel peace Prize was announced and will go to Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed Ali.

*****

The Dem debate was the best yet. I am all for keeping it civil, Mr. Booker, but it is a fucking debate. I am glad they shook it up a bit. Mayor Pete did a wonderful job of imagining the world after Trump. I think he soared above them all this time. Tulsi Gabbard really stood out in her white suit. Since then there have been some illusions to her favor in Russia but her performance that night was great. Tom Steyer talked to the camera like a robot. I am all for his enthusiasm about impeachment but Drop Out! He kept spouting statistics. Yang always jumps right into his financial speeches but he and Bernie were so right about how we need to stop talking about Trump. It would be nice if they asked him more about foreign policy and such. But Yang knows how to give real examples of automation that we can all relate to like, McDonald’s and CVS. He not only talks of the truckers affected but of those who serve them as well. Bernie also talked about the much needed infrastructure. Biden seemed angry and defensive but he was right about a number of things. When the talking heads were asked if Biden did good, one answered that, “he was coherent.” Yikes! Once again, Warren won’t give us a straight answer about taxes and it is the thing that hurts her the most.  Her “let’s be clear” is not clear enough for many. One of the things the average person has really come to hate is avoidance. She also blames more of the job loss on trade. I have to hand it to Klobachar, she was forceful and called people out. I loved her points on paper ballots, why isn’t everyone on board with this?? Castro had the best gun line of the night, “Police violence is also gun violence.” Harris and Beto held their own but did not stand out to me. If you put them altogether they would make a hell of a cabinet. What about Bernie and Buttigieg for Pres and VP. Warren to run the War dept., Yang the Treasury, Beto to run alcohol, tobacco and firearms, Harris for Sec. of State, Klobahcar for the FBI and Castro for homeland security. Just a suggestion.

*****

Former career diplomat Bill Taylor opened his inquiry questioning with a “beautifully written’ 15 page statement. Many later said the testimony was disturbing which elicited gasps. His words named names and connected the dots. Thank you Mr. Taylor for being a meticulous note taker and paper trail keeper.

*****

The State Department finally finished the internal investigation of Hil’s e -mails.  They found 38 unidentified people were “culpable” in 91 cases of sending classified info that wound up on her personal server.

*****

Republicans stormed into a secure hearing room with recording devices for a show they were filming. Some of these very republicans are included in these closed door meetings and given the same time to ask questions as anybody else. The participants do have clearance so it gives them the right to do this. This stunt happened the day after Taylor’s testimony and after Trump asked his fellow republicans to do something. They blocked testimony for over 5 hours. Thanks for wasting our money.  I guess their point was that they have no respect for our laws and traditions and they are very slimy.

*****

It was good to see Sam Donaldson back out there on the case.

*****

Hooray for the all- female spacewalk.  Thanks Christina Koch and Jessica Meir.

*****

Bernie had a huge NY rally where he was endorsed by Michael Moore and AOC.

*****

Harrison Ford made an impassioned speech about climate change.** Jane Fonda was arrested on the 11th at a climate change protest for unlawful demonstration at the U.S. Capital. She vows to keep coming back.

*****

Homeland security secretary Kevin McAleenan is out.** Mike Pompeo’s senior advisor Mike Mckinley resigned and testified on the impeachment inquiry.** Rick Perry is out.

*****

Jennifer Lawrence has married Cooke Maroney.

*****

The Viola Davis produced, In A Man’s World looks interesting.

*****

This month in sexual harassment news:  43 new women have leveled allegations against Trump.** 3 new women have come forward about Cuba Gooding Jr. Word is that there are many stories of his grab ass tactics thru the years.

*****

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has released the names of this year’s noms which includes Pat Benatar, Dave Matthews Band, Doobie Brothers, Depeche Mode, Whitney Houston, Judas Priest, Kraftwerk, MC5, Motorhead, Nine Inch Nails, Todd Rundgren, Soundgarden, T Rex, Thin Lizzy and Notorious B.I.G.

*****

Stumptown on ABC is a great new show with that grit of the tough 70’s detective but with a chick. Nice! The cast is fab with Michael Ealy, Camryn Manheim and the sublime Tantoo Cardinal.

*****

The Prince estate was livid that the President used Purple Rain at a rally. “We will never give permission to President Trump to use Prince’s songs,  “ a spokesperson said.** Queen has told Trump not to use “We will rock you” in his new campaign video.

*****

Where do I begin with Scary Clown 45? By the time a month has gone by all his insanity is old news. When we see his family and piers act like everything he does is normal, it shows how dysfunctional they all are. I can’t tell you how many families I have seen that would have been pretty happy groups if it weren’t for the mad man running the show. How can people act so entitled and want to help no one?  Is it the water? Do they remember how much they gave grief to the Obama’s and Clintons? Are they scared of Trump or do they just love their money that much? How can so many be filled with so much hate and why do we always let them get by with everything? But it goes on… A DC court rules congress can see Trump’s taxes. The man is using our Justice Department to block a subpoena for his tax returns?  Merrick Garland is the presiding judge over the circuit court. **The Ukraine thing started with Scary Clown giving a little quid pro quo to Zelinsky. Multiple whistleblowers have come forward and their testimony has been confirmed. He then told us to look at Pence, Rudy, Perry or anybody else he could think of.  Pence plays stupid, Kurt Volker resigns, Rick Perry resigns** Now Trump has pulled troops out of Syria and betrayed the Kurds. We destroyed our own stuff so Turkey could not get at it. After Trump said there were no more troops there, actually there were about 1000. Now there is talk of sending some back after all the backlash. ISIS militants are now back on the loose. More troops are being sent to Saudi Arabia. ** Igor and Lev were arrested. ** Marie Yovanovitch testified against the wishes of the WH. Rudy claims that she was blocking him from his Ukraine shenanigans.  Trump said that the former ambassador was”bad news.”  Yovanovitch claims that she was forced out as a direct result of pressure from the boys.** A NY judge blocked the Trump rule to limit legal status for those who use public benefits. A Texas judge ruled that Trump’s use of emergency funds to build a wall was unlawful. ** John Bolton is starting to talk.

*****

Scary Clown called Nancy Pelosi a third rate politician n what they described as a meltdown.** Pelosi pushed thru a rules package for the impeachment as October came to a close.

*****

“If you support Donald Trump, don’t be afraid to get down on your knees.” Mrs. Pence

*****

720,000 acres of California public land will now be given over to oil and gas companies for fracking leases.** In better California news:  Hooray for bill AB32 which looks to stop private, for profit prisons and immigration detention facilities. It’s about time!!

*****

The National Enquirer is threatening a libel suit against Ronan Farrow.** Trump has threatened to sue CNN.

*****

Arizona’s Joe Arpaio lost his lawsuit against CNN, the Huffington Post and Rolling Stone. Reporters called him an ex-felon but the judge cited a case which states that, ‘in the interest of free expression, there is breathing room when it comes to public figures.

*****

Professor Allan Lichtman has properly predicted the last 9 elections. He says he can’t make a decision until the impeachment predicament is worked out.

*****

R.I.P. Kim Shattuck, Diahann Carroll, Marcello Giordani, Ginger Baker, Rip Taylor, Robert Forster, Elijah Cummings, Scotty Bowers, Bill Macy and John Witherspoon.

[sweetlifetownsville]

Hi-Jacking Australia Day: Photo Op Fail Shows That The Mayor Knows How Deep She Is In The Electoral Doo-Doos

Shameless in its hypocrisy, utterly stupid in its transparency Jenny Hill and her team claim honours they WERE NOT awarded, in a bumbled bit of cheap campaigning chicanery. For all that, The Pie owes Jenny Hill an apology or does he? Could it be that he err short-changed her when writing about the LGAQ last week? There seems to be some murky financial (albeit apparently legal) fancy financial footwork in the local governments published reports. The Pie has a beak around to see if he really must offer to Jenny what she was forced to offer Clive Palmer an abject apology. (Good luck with the $50 grand part of it, though.) An unfortunate choice by the Townsville Chamber of Commerce and a truly shameful one by the Bulletin.. Plus, Bentleys hilarious take that will make Katter go Katter-tonic and in addition to our usual visual visit to the week in Trumpistan, a wonderful pictorial insight into how time reverses our values. But first Bobs A Real Pain The Arse The Mad Katter was at again this week, describing homosexuality as a fashion trend, and making the ingenuous dopey statement that In my whole life up to 50, I had never seen or heard of a homosexual person. Well, you probably met heaps of them, Bob, but in that time period, the laws of the day made it advisable not to advertise the fact. And one wonders if he doth protest a tad much could the Member for Kennedy be on a late-life slide into iniquity? Theres been a hint when you host a barbie in a shirt that looks like it was bought at Peter Allen garage sale, casually slung over a Ripcurl T-shirt, youre poised at the top of the slippery slope we call life-style choices. Indeed, our visionary toonist Bentley can clearly see the next passing phase for our Bob. Of course, this is all in fun, we all know that Bob is a solid, upstanding member, a real hands-on bloke who has a strong grip on things despite all his giggling and gasping. Still In Bentley territory, our man reckons not everybody is unhappy with our current heat wave across the country. And he is right about The Pies reaction, but being a considerate chap, Bentley has omitted the brown stains in the water behind the old bird. Low Blow In a shameful tabloid attempt at sensationalism, the Townsville Bulletin has surpassed itself on this, our national day when we talk up that we live in The Land of the Fair Go. In one of the most denigrating efforts yet by this floundering fish of a paper, we were treated to this below-the-belt guilt by association dog whistling front page. And the sleazy effort just got worse and worse, especially when a reporter quizzed him with what can only be an accusatory question on any possible involvement with his aunts drug dealing, indicated by the use of the word denied. QUOTE: Mr Dametto denied having any prior knowledge of his aunts alleged involvement with drugs before her arrest and assured his constituents, he did not condone the use of dangerous drugs. I havent (been involved in drugs) nor any other member of my family to my knowledge, Mr Dametto said.(The alleged offending) has nothing to do with me, its something she has to sort out herself. UNQUOTE The fact that they asked the question no one had considered, with not a shred of even remote suggestion, is straight up political dog whistling the chorus of Ha! yeah, right from the LNP and Labor banjo-playing set is already plunking away. If Jenna Cairney and her band of work experience reporters think this is a good tactic to fill space, perhaps theyd like to door knock the parents and relatives of the juvenile little shits charged with stealing cars and property, and ask them if they had any prior knowledge or involvement the exploits of their little snots. One imagines such effrontery would meet with what some cops describe as summary justice and no argument there from this old bird. Truly base stuff, Ms Cairney. And Your Bizarre Story Placements Continue Apace Jeez-us, fair dinkum. When It Comes To Snide Stupidity, Jenna And Jenny Make A Pigeon Pair If ever proof was needed that our mayor is wetting herself about her plunging popularity and failure to fool ANY of the people ANY of the time, it came in the online Bulletin this weekend. Heres a little puzzle of current affairs test for you. Read the caption first, and then see a) how many Australia Day award winners you can spot, and b) see how many Team Hill councillors you can spot. And the Astonisher certainly has its political priorities right the caption lists Mayor Mullet and Premier Alphabet but failed to mention that dorky looking bloke in the center. Oh, him, hes not worth mentioning, just the Governor of Queensland and former Chief Justice Paul de Jersey. But then have a look along the line search as he could, The Pie was not able to see it reported anywhere that either Clr Ann-Maree Greaney, Clr Maurie Soares, Clr Colleen Boo Hoo Doyle, Clr Les Messagebank Walker, Mayor Mullet Jenny Hill, or Clr Kurt Rehbein had received any Australia Day honours. So WTF are THEY doing, holding some sort of prize, which if it is an Australia Day Award, is grossly dishonest to say the least a pathetic please re-elect me plea? They are making themselves out to be winners of some sort which is looking more and more unlikely next time around. But OK, why is the old bird surprised, this is about the level of honesty weve come to expect from these denizens of the Walker Street trough. Its such a thigh-slapping inept attempt at campaign virtue signalling it has just proved two things shes desperate and shes dumb. But or All that, Mayor Mullet May Get Back In A new study of Townsville voters has discovered why we have the political representation we have. Well, at least it explains it for us, but not much can be done, youd reckon. Now, Having Said That, Maybe The Magpie Owes Mrs Hill An Apology Last week and on a couple of previous occasions The Pie has snidely written that Mayor Mullet picks up $31K a year in fees plus expenses for attending 6 LGAQ meeting a year as one of the three ordinary directors of the Association. She will retain that position until June 2020. Well, shame-faced as he is to say it, it appears that The Magpie may be WRONG (clutch the pearls to throat, gals, splutter in your Scotch and Fanta, gents). And this error is a direct, albeit unintended, slur on our mayor, by wantonly questioning the worth of her invaluable visionary qualities and her legendary financial acumen, particularly in Indian industrial and aviation matters. Because it seems her spare-time gig at the LGAQ earns her nowhere near $31,000 p.a. It looks like its closer to $95,000 per annum! Which becomes even more interesting when you consider that the TCC pays about $250K a year membership, so it in essence means that her services to the LGAQ are in fact paid for by Townsville ratepayers as part of the citys membership fee. Indeed, it seems we stump up a total a very worth while total, mind you, who could argue of just under $300,000 a year for her incomparable leadership as she charts a clever path out of our current financial and employment morass. The Pie humbly apologises for underselling you so despicably, Mrs Hill, when you devote so much of your time so selflessly to the public good of Townsville. There will be sneering Doubting Thomases who question your championing of the Local Buy procurement arm of the LGAQ, which actually takes work OUT of this city. Those doubters say that the claimed efficiencies dont actually save the council anything, but pshaw! what would they know? They simply have no head for these sorts of figures and deals and they certainly dont understand the pressures of your obligation to an organisation that slips you almost a hundred grand a year to raise your voting arm when told. Oh, the irony, the irony. But, You Cry, Is This True? Well, it certainly seems so to better financial sleuths than The Magpie, but it all depends how you decipher the murky and ambiguous figures published by he LGAQ. Rubbery was a word bandied about frequently. And just to pique our interest, there is a little mystery item mentioned, but that later on. Lets go the LGAQ Annual Report, where on page 35 we find this as a starter. Now the remuneration seems pretty clear there sort of but it has the rubbery words ranged between. (And a brief digression they sure aint bound by pissant thoughts of CPI or inflation down at the LGAQ note the rise in fees from 2017 to 2018 a tasty 35% for the president and an eye-watering 100% for directors. And the 2017 figures dont add up anyway, which is rubbery/sloppy in itself, with no explanation offered. Makes one wonder. The question here is would someone like Jenny Hill from a place the size of Townsville (for round figures, let say 200,000) be willing to accept the same stipend as say Alf Lacey from Palm Island, which has what, about three to five thousand people? Methinks not in a month of Sundays, and PI membership would be a tiny fraction of Townsvilles.) Then we see this chart, which again seem clear. Or is it not? The disparity between the President and the directors $137,422 v $31,000 ($94,280 split three ways rounded out here) is not believable to one executive who deals in these areas. He thinks the real remuneration, especially for Jenny Hill, is actually about $94,000. But whether it totals that from these figures (where there would obviously have to be some accounting error), things get even more interesting if he scroll back to page 20, we find this And this Now these reports can be heavy going even for accountants at times, and impossible for the likes by The Magpie, but our experienced Magpie mate writes: The cost of directors fees and meeting fees for the year are $618,294 (page 20) this would kind of add up to me like 3 directors @ $95k plus the president @ $137k total of $422k leaving another $196k to be accounted for so I think the directors get 95K still and travel and accommodation listed separately as $734,441 (page 20) So all in all, maybe Jenny Hill is worth the money she gets as a director worth it to the LGAQ, anyway, when it presumably is she who calls the shots on the councils membership fees. All this is courtesy of the Townsville ratepayers. The loveliness continues. Oh, and that little mystery. Just this But to be sure, since the LGAQ runs an insurance arm, it will surely be covered for whatever alleged indiscretion did or did not take place either way, it gunna cost. A (un-doctored) Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words A somewhat antiquated clich borne out by an alert reader who reckons his shot in Flinders Street just about sums up Townsvilles quandary. And another reader pic is being repeated across the city at a growing rate. Sloppy unfinished work and weeds all around contractor or council, totally unacceptable, and could be a traffic hazard, especially in the wet. Of course, not all councils can get things right, even the mighty Randwick Council in Sydney which has its own wrestle with signage. Be interesting if a Great Dane owned by a dwarf takes a dump. Did The Townsville Chamber of Commerce Really Think About The Wisdom Of This? Putting an image of a hungry looking porker on the stationery of an outfit representing private business seems a bit risky. But it gets more pointed when it is advertising a Townsville information session for the LGAQs Local Buy mob. Of course, in very small print, the presence of porky is explained as recognition of the Chambers Chinese membership, it is the Year of the Pig. Well, come to think of it, it IS an election year Pot Calling Kettle Award Of The Week. This goes to US Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, addressing an emergency meeting of the Organisation of American States last Wednesday on the unrest in Venezuela, and rescinding recognition of the elected leader. He said: The time for debate is done. The regime of former President Nicholas Maduro is illegitimate. His regime is morally bankrupt, economically incompetent and it is profoundly corrupt. It is undemocratic to the core. All absolutely correct except for two words, and many Americans know which two they are but guess you wouldnt know, Mikey, what a gerbil performance history awaits you, fella. We can shortly expect Trump to recognise Pauline Hanson as Australias legitimate leader, and for the forthcoming elections to be cancelled, since elections have little meaning in Washington. Apparently. But before Trump can make any such declaration how Australia can be governed, he will need the permission of the man behind him. And thats just the start for this week in Trumpistan. And Finally, For A Final Rueful Laugh Or Two. Time and technology play unexpected tricks on us, taking just a few short years to reverse human behaviour. .. Thats it for this week, but as usual, comments are running hot on all sorts of topics, so have your say, comments can be posted 24/7. And if youre in a kindly mood (or just drunk, doesnt matter) a donation to help the old bird keep floating above it all is always appreciated and put to good use. The how to donate button is below. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/hi-jacking-australia-day-photo-op-fail-shows-that-the-mayor-knows-how-deep-she-is-in-the-electoral-doo-doos/

[klaineanummel]

eighteen going on extinct 2/20

Kurt Fabray just wants to relax after a tough week at school, but that is shown to be impossible when he realizes that his absent father has once again blown into town. Not wanting to spend more time around him than necessary, Kurt goes to his old babysitters house, the one place he feels safe when his father is in town. While there, he stumbles upon a secret he knows he was never meant to find out - one that could change the entire course of his life.

An AU very loosely based on Mamma Mia.

I completely forgot to mention this on the first chapter, but a million thanks go to @mailroomorder. I really don't know what I would do without you. You take every single one of my fics and actually make it readable. I literally owe you a million thanks for all you've done for me, not only for this fic, but throughout the years. I love you <3 <3 <3 <3

Hope you enjoy!! :D

Previous Chapter  |  Read on AO3

It takes a while to get to the south side of Lima. The bus system is shit, and he has to switch buses twice to get where he needs to go, and even once he’s there he has to walk a good ten minutes before he reaches the Berry-Hudson house.

He kicks a stone as he walks down the sidewalk, admiring the lack of graffiti on the building walls. All the houses over here have nice yards and are separated by fences. Some even have pools.

Where he lives, the nicest place you can get is an attached home, but they’re all rentals. He and his mom lived in one for about a year when he was seven, back when she was dating Big Steve. It didn’t last long, but it had been nice to briefly live somewhere other than an apartment.

Finn and Rachel’s house isn’t as big as some of the others on their street, but it’s still bigger than anything Kurt’s ever lived in. He pushes the gate open, glancing at the pruned shrubs that line that walkway up to their front door. He wonders if they take care of those themselves or if they pay someone to do it.

He knocks on the door, shoving his hands in his pockets. He hasn’t been here in a while, which sort of makes him feel like he’s taking advantage of their hospitality.

Finn opens the door, smiling that dopey smile of his and instantly getting out of the way.

“Hey, man,” he greets, patting Kurt on the back as he walks into the house. “Long time, no see.”

“Uh, yeah,” Kurt says, taking his shoes off as soon as he’s in the house (it may have been a while, but he still remembers Rachel’s house rules). “Sorry about that. It’s just…”

“Don’t worry, dude,” Finn says, still grinning. “We’re just glad you still felt okay to call. Come on, we just finished making supper.”

Kurt nods. “Cool,” he says. “I, uh. I brought Coke. I know Rachel doesn’t really drink carbonated stuff, but-”

“Thanks!” Finn starts to lead him toward the dining room. “Just means more for you and me, right?”

Kurt can’t help but smile at the endless optimism that the man exudes. He’s already feeling better than he has all day, just from being around him for a few seconds. He really needs to come here more often.

Rachel is just placing some cups around the already-set table when he walks in. She’s just as tiny as ever, and her smile is just as big as it always is when he comes over. “Kurt, hi!” she greets hurrying over to him and wrapping him in a big hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

He hugs her back, still feeling a little strange about being so much taller than her (he can’t even imagine how Finn must feel). He remembers when would accompany Finn when he’d babysit Kurt, and how Kurt used to wish he’d one day grow to be at least as tall as Rachel.

“We made a broccoli casserole, but Finn also has some hot dogs in the fridge he thinks I can’t see,” she winks at him. “We can heat some of those up in the microwave, if you’d like?”

Kurt instantly shakes his head. He’s already had hot dogs twice this week. “Broccoli casserole sounds perfect.”

“Wonderful! Oh, I forgot what a perfect guest you are. You really do need to come around for dinner more often.”

Kurt can’t help but smile as she leads him toward the chair at the end of the table. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to come around. It’s just been so crazy with my job and school starting up and everything.”

“That’s right,” Finn says, coming out of the kitchen with the casserole dish in hand. Rachel sits on Kurt’s left, and Finn takes the seat to the right. “You’re at McDonald’s, right?”

Kurt shakes his head. “Wendy’s. McDonald’s let me go.”

Finn sets the casserole dish down, and glances at Kurt. “Did they have reason to?”

Kurt shrugs. “The GM was dating my mom, but he cheated on her. I skipped a shift to console her and he said that wouldn’t fly. So… technically, I guess.”

He watches as Finn and Rachel exchange a glance; the same glance they exchange every time he mentions his mom.

“Well, it’s good you got another job, then,” Rachel says, eyes still on Finn. “I prefer Wendy’s anyway. Better vegan options.”

That’s not true, and they all know it, but Kurt just nods and says, “Yeah.”

Rachel starts serving the casserole, and Kurt barely manages to wait until it’s all scooped onto his plate before he digs in. He hasn’t had anything like this in so long. Eric, the GM at McDonald’s, used to cook dinner for his mom sometimes and she’d bring back leftovers, but since he fucked off it’s mostly been take out and quick meals. It’s not like either of them really has the time to cook.

“So,” Rachel says as Kurt shovels food into his mouth. “How’s, um. How’s Sebastian?” Kurt glances up at her and sees her smiling tightly. “Is that still… happening?”

Kurt shakes his head, and he can see her shoulders slump in relief. “He moved away, for college. Got into Yale.” He shrugs, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “Finally realized everyone else was right and he really was too good for me.”

“Hey,” Finn says harshly, causing Kurt to jump. “That’s not true, okay? If anything, you were way too good for him.”

Rachel is nodding along. “His parents were my neighbours growing up, and sometimes I’d babysit Sebastian when he was younger. He was always a little brat.”

That makes Kurt smile. “He didn’t take too well to not getting his way, did he?” he chuckles, thinking back on the time Sebastian tried to get Kurt to go down on him when he really didn’t feel like it. He’d stormed out of his room in a huff, only to return two minutes later saying that this was his house and Kurt needed to leave.

It wasn’t like it was the best relationship, and Kurt is well aware of that. Still sucks that everybody saw it before he did.

They chat casually for a while. Kurt pulls the Coke out of his bag and Finn goes to get them some ice. Rachel ends up pouring herself a half-glass, though her face scrunches up as she drinks it, which makes Kurt and Finn laugh.

Finn tells him about his middle-school students and how they’re currently writing their own plays. He’s so enthusiastic as he talks, hands gesturing wildly, the grin never leaving his face. Kurt wishes that he’d attended West Lima Middle School instead of North; he really would have liked to have Finn as a teacher.

Rachel briefly talks about how she’s considering going back on the road for a national tour of Wicked. She’s mostly been producing plays lately, but apparently she’s been feeling the performing itch.

Although he thinks Finn is awesome, and knows he’s the best teacher ever, he really admires Rachel and the work she does. Even if McKinley High School and North Lima Middle School didn’t really have drama programs, he’s always been interested in acting and singing. Rachel helps put on most of the productions that come to Columbus and has gotten several smaller theater companies off the ground; plus, she used to be on Broadway. He’d love to step into her shoes, even just for a day.

He listens intently as Rachel talks about the audition process, and how it’s down to her and two other girls for Elphaba, though she’s sure she has the role in the bag. He loves hearing her talk about the theater world, even the inanest aspects of it. He once listened to her talk for an hour about what brands of make-up were better to wear on stage.

When she’s finished, a bit of a silence falls over the table. Kurt is too awed by her stories to say anything, but Finn seems to have something else on his mind.

After a few minutes of silence, during which Kurt scoops himself a little bit more casserole, Finn turns to him and asks, “Kurt, why did you call me tonight?”

Kurt pauses, his fork full of broccoli and potatoes halfway to his mouth. “Um.”

“You said there was a situation, but you didn’t explain.” He turns a little in his chair. “Is it your dad? Is he back?”

Kurt sighs and places his fork on the plate. He slumps in his chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Totally blindsided me. He was there when I got home from school. Drove down from LA to ‘see me,’ or so he says.”

Rachel reaches a hand out to take his. “Does your mom know you’re here?” she asks.

Kurt shakes his head. “Told her I was with some friends, just didn’t say who. I didn’t…” he glances at Finn, then looks down at his plate. “Puck gets weird when I mention you guys.”

The look they exchange tells him they know exactly what he means by ‘weird’.

“How long is he staying?” Rachel asks.

Kurt shrugs. “Who knows. Mom says he’s on his feet, that he isn’t here for money, but I don’t trust him. He’s got a fancy new motorcycle, but that doesn’t mean shit. Last time he brought me $300 season passes to see the Buckeyes, but still begged mom for a couple grand to help him ‘get back on his feet,’” he lowers his voice and puts air quotes around the words. He shakes his head. “She wants me to be nice to him because he’s my dad, but I don’t think that’s enough. Just because he donated part of my DNA doesn’t mean he’s my father, you know?”

Finn and Rachel exchange another look, which Kurt ignores. Instead, he continues his rant.

“It’s just stupid. She never takes shit from anyone. When Eric cheated on her she kicked him so hard in the balls that he limped for a week. One time a boyfriend stole ten dollars from her purse and she punched him right in the nose when she found out. But with Puck? It’s like she turns into this pathetic schoolgirl with a crush that she just can’t get over. He can literally do whatever he wants, and she’ll never see the truth that he’s a deadbeat asshole who could give two shits about her.”

“She was always like that with Puck…” Rachel says, shaking her head. She smiles at Kurt and squeezes his hand. “We know it’s tough for you to be around him, so please, feel free to stay here as long as you want, okay?”

Finn nods along, and Kurt smiles. “Thanks, guys. You know, for letting me come over, and for letting me rant.”

“Any time. We mean it.”

They finish dinner soon after that, and Finn suggests they watch a movie. He lets Kurt pick, claiming that Rachel will just make them watch “A Star is Born” for the hundredth time. Kurt picks “Yentl” just to mess with him.

Their TV is a lot bigger than Kurt’s, and their sofa is softer. Kurt curls his legs under himself and thanks Finn halfway through the movie when the man passes him a throw. He pulls the throw close to his body, feeling cozy and safe.

He always feels safe in the Berry-Hudson house.

When the movie ends, Rachel suggests they play a board game, so Finn pulls out Sorry! They play a few rounds, laughing and teasing each other. Rachel wins every round to absolutely nobody’s surprise.

By around eleven Rachel admits she’s ready to call it a day. She gives Kurt a kiss on the forehead and thanks him for coming over, reiterating yet again that their door is always open for him. Finn says he thinks he should head to bed, too, and Kurt reluctantly says that he has a shift in the morning, so he should probably hit the hay, too.

The guest room is all set up for him, just the way it always is. The blankets and pillows are piled high, and Kurt already feels his heartbeat speeding up at the thought of sleeping in the queen-sized bed, as opposed to the twin he has in his room at home.

Finn bids him goodnight, leaving him alone. He smiles as he changes into his pajamas, thankful for the millionth time for Finn and his wife.

They’ve always been good to him. Finn was always his favourite babysitter when he was a kid, and he was the only one who kept in touch even when he stopped needing someone to babysit him. The first time Kurt called Finn after a fight with Puck, Finn came to pick him up and brought him to his house. Kurt was only thirteen at the time, but Finn made it very clear to him that he was always welcome to stay with him and Rachel. No matter what.

Sometimes, as a young boy, Kurt used to dream about Finn being his dad instead of Puck. Not that he wanted his mom and Finn to be together – Rachel and Finn were obviously soulmates and he’d never wish for them to be apart. No, he just liked the idea of having a dad who was around. Who wanted to spend time with him. Who cared for him and spent time with him without expecting anything in return.

He gets into the bed, his phone in hand. He unlocks it, finding a couple of messages from his mom asking him where he went. There’s another message from his boss, asking if he could come in half an hour earlier. Kurt rolls his eyes but texts back that he can, trying to mentally calculate how early he’ll have to get up to make that work.

Just as he’s setting his alarms he gets a notification warning him that he’s at 20% battery. He groans and pulls himself out of bed, going to his backpack and digging through it.

Fuck.

“Great,” he says as he pulls out the last piece of clothing. Of course he forgot his charger. Just his luck.

He sighs and heads out the door. He knows Rachel has an iPhone, too. Knowing her, she’ll have at least two extra charger cables.

He reaches the door to their bedroom and raises a hand to knock, but pauses when he hears them talking inside.

“- you’ve respected her decision this long, but this isn’t good for him. If Puck is actually going to be sticking around for the long run-”

“We don’t know if he is, Rach. He’ll probably just hang out for a week or two, like he always does, and then admit he needs money. Quinn will give him money, because for some reason she always does, and then he’ll be out of their hair. That’s how it always goes.”

“What if it doesn’t go that way this time, Finn? I don’t—” Kurt hears her sigh. “He’s such a good kid. I know he acts tough, but we both know that’s not who he is. I don’t want Puck messing up his life any more than he already has.”

“I don’t either, you know I don’t, but I just don’t see how it would make a difference.”

“You don’t – Finn, if you could prove your paternity we could try and get joint custody. He could live with us two weeks out of the month. That’s two whole weeks he wouldn’t have to be around that… that man.”

Kurt’s eyes widen, heart skipping a beat.

“He’s not mine, Rachel,” Finn says. “We’ve known that for years.”

“We don’t, though. We never got the test done because Quinn insisted and we wanted to be respectful, but this has gone on long enough. I can’t just sit idly by anymore! Even if Puck doesn’t stick around this time he’s going to keep coming back, over and over again. That’s what he does, Finn. You know that as well as I do.”

“She doesn’t want me to, Rachel. She made it very clear that Kurt wasn’t mine. It would be a dick move to ask for a paternity test now.”

“I just want to be sure, Finn. I hate thinking of him in that house with Puck. I hate it.”

“Me too, Rach, but there’s nothing we can do. Quinn made it very clear –”

“Look, Finn, I think Quinn is an amazing mother. I’ve said that since day one. She’s done an incredible job raising Kurt by herself. But when it comes to Puck, she doesn’t know how to set boundaries. He’s always been her weak spot, and he’s always going to be her weak spot. It’s not good for Kurt to be in that environment, and I’m tired of ignoring the fact that there is a chance that you are that boy’s father.”

The words ring in Kurt’s ears, amplified by the silence that’s fallen over the house.

His breathing quickens.

Finn speaks after a few moments of silence. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Rachel replies. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

Kurt forces himself to move, heading right back to the guest room, heart jackhammering in his chest. He’s clutching his phone tightly, and his breaths are coming quickly.

He always knew his mom and Finn dated in high school, before she got pregnant with him. She’d told him when he was five and he asked her how she’d met his favourite babysitter. He’d never really known the timeline of their relationship, though.

He climbs back into bed, placing his phone on a pillow next to his head. He feels wide awake as he stares up at the ceiling, this new discovery coursing through his veins like a particularly powerful drug.

The very idea that Puck might not be his dad brings him a joy he cannot even imagine. There will be nothing left connecting him to that asshole. His mom can keep him around if she wants, but Kurt won’t owe him anything.

Holy shit.

He smiles to himself at the thought of finally being able to officially tell Puck to get fucked. He can just imagine slamming down the paternity test in front of the man and telling him to have a good life.

He pulls the blankets closer.

Well, fuck.

Chapter Three

[klaineanummel]

Story of My Life 16/24?

Kurt reflects on the past twelve years of his life, coming to realize that one man in particular has affected him far more than he ever thought he would

I’m so far behind on this fic oh my god. It’s okay, though, I have vacation coming up soon, so hopefully will have some time to catch up on everything before the @klaineadvent event is up! 

No real warnings for this chapter, other than Kurt and Blaine being with people who are not each other. Hope you all enjoy, and I will (hopefully!) see you tomorrow!

Attachment   |   Bucket |    Collapse   |   Drink   |   Example   |   Fraction   |   Genuine   |   Health   |   Inch   |   Judgement |   Key   |   Mist   |   Nose   |   Orgy   |

Read on AO3

February 15th, 2020

Kurt and Cooper have been making fools of themselves on the dance floor for a bit too long when a slow song comes on. Cooper raises an eyebrow at Kurt, who chuckles, but lets himself be swept into a middle-school-style slow dance.

They spin slowly on the spot, until suddenly Cooper grips his middle and turns him back quickly. Kurt looks over his shoulder and sees that Tina and Quinn are dancing there, close and intimate. Kurt sighs and asks Cooper, “You doing okay?”

Cooper sighs. “Am I being stupid, still not being over this? I mean, I should have known there was a possibility this could happen. They always got along so well when Quinn and I were dating, and I knew they were both into girls, but I just…” he shakes his head. “It’s still weird to me, you know? That Tina, one of my best friends, is dating my ex. It’d be like if I started dating Adam.”

“Yeah, right,” Kurt says. “You’re too hot for Adam.”

Cooper smiles, and Kurt counts it as a victory. “You know, I thought it would be easier when Tina moved out, but I think her moving out to move in with Quinn cancelled out any potential ease.”

“I get it,” Kurt says. “This love shit is hard.”

Cooper nods, then looks over Kurt’s shoulder and says, “Not for them, though, lucky bastards.”

Kurt turns his head, smiling softly at Sam and Mercedes twirling happily on the dance floor. Mercedes is still in her wedding dress, refusing to change into something easier to dance in. She and Sam and smiling at each other like they’re the only people in the world, their brand-new rings glinting on their fingers.

“They really are lucky,” Kurt says, shaking his head. “Imagine knowing who your soulmate is since you’re fifteen? Shit,” he sighs. “I wish.”

“We’ll find our soulmates someday though, right?”

Kurt snorts. “I sure as hell hope so. We’re too hot to be spinsters.”

“Amen,” Cooper says. His eye seems to catch on something and he grins, nodding behind Kurt and saying, “Speaking of finding soulmates…”

Kurt looks around again, this time setting his eyes on where Blaine is dancing with a guy. His eyes widen when he realizes that it’s Trent, who Sam introduced to them all earlier as his cousin who had just moved to New York for work.

“Well, hot damn,” Kurt says.

“Think it’ll last?” Cooper asks.

“Who knows,” Kurt replies honestly. “I mean, this has all the makings of a wedding hook-up, and you know how those usually go.”

“Actually, I don’t,” Cooper says. “But I’m assuming they don’t usually last beyond the night of the wedding?”

“You would assume correct,” Kurt says. He watches as Trent whispers something to Blaine, who throws his head back and laughs. Kurt’s known Blaine long enough to know when he’s being genuine, and this is no over-the-top performance. “He looks really happy, though,” he says.

“He does,” Cooper replies. “So, here’s hoping.”

Kurt nods, smiling softly as he watches the two. “Here’s hoping.”

The song changes to a poppy, dance-y number. Kurt and Cooper separate, instantly moving back into their silly moves from before.

When the next slow dance starts, Cooper raises an eyebrow and holds a hand out, asking, “May I have this dance?”

Kurt is about to accept, but Cooper’s hand is batted away by Elliott, who says, “No way, Anderson. You’ve hogged him enough tonight. I need some alone time with the best man.”

Cooper sighs dramatically and says, “Fine, I suppose. I guess I’ll just go drown my loneliness in alcohol.”

Kurt takes Elliott’s hand, letting him start to lead him in a slow dance, their bodies much closer than Kurt’s and Cooper’s were. “He’s such a drama queen.”

“Tell me about it,” Elliott chuckles. He pulls Kurt a tiny bit closer, then says, “So, how are you dealing with the news?”

Kurt frowns. “What news?”

“The news of Blaine finding his soulmate before you,” Elliott says, nodding in the direction Kurt knows Blaine and Trent are. “Must be tough.”

“For your information,” Kurt says, pointing his nose up. “I could not be happier for him.”

“No bitterness over losing your back-up?” Elliott teases.

Kurt scoffs, looking at him in fake disbelief. “I thought you knew that you are my back-up.”

“I am?” Elliott’s hand clutches a little tighter at the small of Kurt’s back. “Well, I’ll be damned. And here I’ve been dating around when I could have had the Kurt Hummel.”

“Shut up,” Kurt chuckles. Elliott laughs as well, though there’s a fondness in his eyes that makes Kurt’s stomach tighten a little.

In a good way.

“Seriously. Let me know when you’re tired of looking for The One, because I am more than happy to be The One You Settle For.”

“As if I would ever just settle for you,” Kurt says, smiling softly at his friend. “I think we’ve been friends too long for that.”

“Well, you know what they say about your best friend.”

“Don’t ruin the friendship?” Kurt teases.

Elliott shakes his head, raising a challenging eyebrow. “That you should marry them.”

Kurt stops dancing, staring up at Elliott, considering. He knows that Elliott is probably joking, but what if he isn’t?

The idea is far more enticing than Kurt ever thought it would be.

“What are you thinking?” Elliott asks, hands still holding Kurt tight to him.

Kurt glances down at his lips, and asks, “Can we kiss? Like, can I kiss you?”

Elliott’s eyebrows shoot up. “For real?”

Kurt instantly regrets his impulse. “No. No, not for real, I was just – forget it, I don’t know why I said that. This was so—”

“Hey,” Elliott’s pulls him impossibly closer. He looks far too serious, eyes inquisitive and strong. “Seriously, Kurt. Did you mean it for real?”

Kurt sucks on his bottom lip, and then, hesitantly, nods.

Elliott’s eyes light up. He moves his hands so that they are cupping Kurt’s jaw, tilting his head up gently.

“Fucking finally,” he says, before bringing his lips down on Kurt’s in a kiss far more intense than anything he’s ever experienced.

Part Seventeen: Raw

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot - “The Pain” (Rated PG13)

While Sebastian evaluates new recruits for the Ice-plex's J.V. hockey team, one of his wannabes gets in hot water with Kurt when he cuts off a figure skater.

Tensions run high and secrets are revealed. (2093 words)

Part 12 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3.

“Alright! Thank you so much, guys and gals, for showing up to this year’s hockey team tryouts!” Sebastian glides down the line of potential recruits, dropping pucks in front of them while he speaks. “It’s been a long three days of drills, but we’ve finally narrowed it down to you guys.” Sebastian stops to give the kids in front of him - holding their sticks at the ready, waiting for their chance to be unleashed and show their stuff - a stern once over. “You should be proud of yourselves. That’s a huge accomplishment.” They hold themselves a little straighter, a little taller for Sebastian saying that. “Before we begin, a little background for those of you who may not already know ...”

Sebastian knows a handful will already know what he’s about to say. These kids have been raised at this rink. They could skate before they could walk. Sebastian has seen a few of them grow up here. He’s been their junior coach for the past five years.

God. He’s only a teenager and already he feels like an old man.

“Westerville Ice-plex has four leagues – junior boys, junior girls, and our two co-ed top tiers, J.V. and Varsity. J.V. are the Ice Dragons and Varsity are the Fighting Titans. You guys are here to become … Dragons.” The boys and girls clap and high five one another. “The Westerville Ice Dragons are not just any team. We don’t just win tournaments and bring home trophies. We also do exhibitions, volunteer workshops, charity events, community service, highway cleanups, you name it. Becoming a member of this team isn’t only about your skills on the ice, it’s about who you are as a person. Yes, we have only one captain and one co-captain, but all of you are expected to be leaders. In order to stay on this team, we need to see community involvement outside of the rink, and we need to see good grades. If you need help in either of these areas, we have more than enough people here to help you. But if you start to lag without asking for help, you’ll be removed to second string. Is that understood?”

“Yes, coach,” the kids say, staggered between nervous swallows.

“90% of the players who have ever been on either the J.V. or Varsity team have received offers of scholarships to some of the best schools in the nation. Ice Dragons and Fighting Titans from the past three decades have attended every Ivy League school in the country. Our players are so sought after that one of the Titans’ best goalies received the offer of a full scholarship to Penn State, and he only played one season.”

“Wow.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Who is that, coach?”

“Oh, you’ve all seen him if you skate here regularly, you probably just don’t know it.” Sebastian smiles deviously. “We call him The Pain.”

“Why? Is he a jerk?” one girl scoffs.

“No,” Sebastian says with a hint of glower. “He’s the best goaltender we’ve ever had. Faster than lightning, almost superhuman fast. He can anticipate most any move. And he’s fearless. No one could get anything by him. That made him a pain in the ass,” Sebastian grumbles, acknowledging that that means he couldn’t get anything by him either. “Anyway, we have five spots opening up and seven of you, so obviously a few of you will not be making first string.”

“Make that eight.” Another boy, suited up and with stick in his hand, slides to a stop at the end of the line. “Sorry I’m late, coach. I had a little trouble making my way over here.” He jabs a thumb behind him, but Sebastian doesn’t follow it, focused on the boy who skidded in over fifteen minutes late as if that kind of behavior would be excused.

“You know, we value punctuality on this team,” Sebastian says, arms crossed, “so this doesn’t look good for you.”

“Sorry,” the boy says, not sounding all that sorry. “Like I said, not my fault.”

“Hey! Hey you!”

Sebastian looks over the boy’s shoulder when he hears his boyfriend’s voice, and even though he sounds madder than hell, Sebastian can’t help smiling.

“Hey, Kurt. What’s up?”

“Your little latecomer there almost knocked over a figure skater!”

Sebastian looks at the boy for a reaction. There’s really only one acceptable reaction in this situation … and the boy doesn’t give it.

“Well, they need to learn to get their fruity asses out of our way,” he says with a superior smirk.

Kurt slides to a stop – a hockey stop in his razor sharp figures - spraying the boy’s skates with snow, which makes him seethe. “They’re practicing in their section!” Kurt says, leaning in to talk into the cage of the boy’s helmet. “You have no right to cut them off! We’re sharing this rink until the other one’s resurfaced! No sport takes precedence on the ice here!”

“Uh, I’d check again,” the boy has the nerve to clap back, “because last I looked, hockey has the tallest trophy in the case after last Friday’s game.” He glances to the side, expecting support from the other hopefuls in line, but they’ve already started to back away.

Sebastian can see Kurt getting steadily angrier, but he manages to keep his cool. “Well then I’d get your eyes examined because technically, after last Sunday’s competition, figure skating has the tallest trophy. I know because it happens to be mine. And I’m telling you that no sport here takes precedence on the ice. You knock over one of my skaters, and you’re out of this rink. I don’t care who you are or what team you’re on. And there isn’t a single coach here, junior or senior, who won’t back me up.”

The boy rolls his eyes but Kurt doesn’t let that rile him. He looks at Sebastian, staring back at the two of them with hard eyes, and says, “Keep your boy in check, Smythe. This is the only warning he gets.”

Sebastian nods. “You got it.”

Kurt turns on his blades and heads across the ice.

“That’s right,” the boy mutters. “Sashay away.” The boy flips his stick and taps the heel on the ice, knocking one of the pucks into another. He takes a peek around. No one’s paying attention to him. Coach is watching that obnoxious figure skater skate towards the penalty box while the other kids trying out for the team have clustered as far away from him as possible, not even trying to be inconspicuous.

Then there’re the line of pucks, sitting on the ice, in perfect firing formation.

At that moment, he decides that there’s no reason for him to be the outcast here. He didn’t do anything wrong. Everyone knows that hockey is where the money is for any rink worth a shit.

So he’s not about to be told off by a frickin’ figure skater.

Sebastian doesn’t know how Kurt sees it. Sebastian didn’t see it, too preoccupied with watching Kurt skate and trying to decide how best to handle his newest troublemaker. The odds of him being Ice Dragon material are slim, but he can’t just cut him loose now. But what if he causes problems later on? With that attitude, how the heck did he even make it this far?

However Kurt sees it, thank God he does, because a hit from a puck at speed anywhere on the body can devastate a skater, hence the full body armor hockey players wear during every game. Rink management even requires that their hockey players wear skates with Kevlar guards after one player’s career ended when a shot to the ankle shattered the bone. A strike anywhere on Kurt’s body could be a career ender, and if not, the amount of time it would take him to recover might derail him regardless.

But Kurt swivels out of the way just in time to avoid a puck to the thigh. He storms back over, a glare in his blue eyes that would stop a charging bull elephant in its tracks.

The boy chuckles nervously, backing away in surrender with arms raised. “Oops! Sorry about that. That one just slipped.”

“I’ll bet,” Kurt says. Sebastian arrives at his side in a second without any idea if he skated over to hold Kurt back, or to hold the kid down while Kurt punches him. “Shooting a puck with the intention of striking another skater is grounds for immediate disqualification from any team at Westerville Ice-plex. Get off the ice.”

The boy’s smile turns into a scowl. “What!?”

“He’s right,” Sebastian says. “Get to stepping. Now.”

“No way! This is bogus!!”

“No, what’s bogus is you thinking you could assault another skater and get away with it,” Kurt says. “You’re lucky I don’t report you to the police!” The boy looks relieved until Kurt adds, “But I am reporting you to the league. Don’t expect to skate in competition any time soon.”

The boy stares for a second, mouth agape, searching for the right cutting remark that won’t just win his argument, but get him on the team. That would show up that stupid figure skater! It would shut him up real good. But, in the end, he decides it’s not worth it. There are other teams, better teams … somewhere. He’s sure that there’s no way they can make good on their threat. They can’t keep him from playing.

He’ll show them.

“Whatevs,” he says, taking his stick and skating off the ice. He cuts through the penalty box to avoid coming into contact with anyone else. Sebastian watches him go until he disappears into the lobby and he can’t see him anymore.

“I gotta send my kids to the other rink.” Kurt gives Sebastian a reassuring smile and skates away. Sebastian sighs. More than likely, that kid gets his attitude problem from his parents. Parents, in Sebastian’s experience, tend to be more aggressive than the players, and that’s really sad, because a player like that boy, with an admittedly kickass slapshot, might end up benched because he can’t get his ego or his attitude under control. But Lord knows he probably didn’t start out that way the first time he strapped on skates.

Sebastian’s mom used to say there are no bad kids, only bad parents. He used to think that was a stupid excuse, that everyone is responsible for their own actions no matter what their age. But the more bad kids he meets, the more bad parents he sees.

The more the saying fits.

“Now that that’s over, let’s get these tryouts rolling, shall we?” Sebastian says, finding his upbeat attitude again. “You’re going to give me ten laps around the ice. You’re going to give me twenty pushups on your fists. You’re going to show me your best shoot the duck, Russian lunges, belly slides, knees spins, and edge work. And after you’ve warmed up, you’ll be evaluated - individually and as a group. This isn’t the time for showboating. Your best chance at earning a spot is by showing us you’re willing to put the good of the team above yourselves. We wanna see how you handle the puck, how you pass, how you shoot, and how you approach the goal.”

One girl raises her hand, and Sebastian points to her. “Yes?”

“You keep saying we, coach.”

“Yup,” Sebastian says. “We.”

“Is that like … the royal we?”

“He would say so.”

The boys and girls look around, but they don’t see anyone else except a spattering of figure skaters exiting the ice, and Kurt, circling back their way.

“Who’s he coach?”

“Yeah. Who’s gonna evaluate us?”

Kurt stops beside Sebastian, giving the boys and girls a bright new smile and a wave, as if the tension from before had never happened.

“Hey, guys,” he says. “Let’s get down to business.”

The kids look down the line at one another, confused, but Sebastian puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and smiles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe you all know Kurt Hummel - ten time gold medalist and the pride of Westerville Ice-plex.”

Sebastian hands Kurt his hockey stick. He weighs it in his hands, then flips it around his wrist. It spins three times before he catches it, slapping the blade on the ice. Only then do the kids notice that Kurt has changed out of his figures and into hockey skates.

“But around here,” Sebastian continues, “we call him The Pain.”

[sweetlifetownsville]

Hi-Jacking Australia Day: Photo Op Fail Shows That The Mayor Knows How Deep She Is In The Electoral Doo-Doos

Shameless in its hypocrisy, utterly stupid in its transparency Jenny Hill and her team claim honours they WERE NOT awarded, in a bumbled bit of cheap campaigning chicanery. For all that, The Pie owes Jenny Hill an apology or does he? Could it be that he err short-changed her when writing about the LGAQ last week? There seems to be some murky financial (albeit apparently legal) fancy financial footwork in the local governments published reports. The Pie has a beak around to see if he really must offer to Jenny what she was forced to offer Clive Palmer an abject apology. (Good luck with the $50 grand part of it, though.) An unfortunate choice by the Townsville Chamber of Commerce and a truly shameful one by the Bulletin.. Plus, Bentleys hilarious take that will make Katter go Katter-tonic and in addition to our usual visual visit to the week in Trumpistan, a wonderful pictorial insight into how time reverses our values. But first Bobs A Real Pain The Arse The Mad Katter was at again this week, describing homosexuality as a fashion trend, and making the ingenuous dopey statement that In my whole life up to 50, I had never seen or heard of a homosexual person. Well, you probably met heaps of them, Bob, but in that time period, the laws of the day made it advisable not to advertise the fact. And one wonders if he doth protest a tad much could the Member for Kennedy be on a late-life slide into iniquity? Theres been a hint when you host a barbie in a shirt that looks like it was bought at Peter Allen garage sale, casually slung over a Ripcurl T-shirt, youre poised at the top of the slippery slope we call life-style choices. Indeed, our visionary toonist Bentley can clearly see the next passing phase for our Bob. Of course, this is all in fun, we all know that Bob is a solid, upstanding member, a real hands-on bloke who has a strong grip on things despite all his giggling and gasping. Still In Bentley territory, our man reckons not everybody is unhappy with our current heat wave across the country. And he is right about The Pies reaction, but being a considerate chap, Bentley has omitted the brown stains in the water behind the old bird. Low Blow In a shameful tabloid attempt at sensationalism, the Townsville Bulletin has surpassed itself on this, our national day when we talk up that we live in The Land of the Fair Go. In one of the most denigrating efforts yet by this floundering fish of a paper, we were treated to this below-the-belt guilt by association dog whistling front page. And the sleazy effort just got worse and worse, especially when a reporter quizzed him with what can only be an accusatory question on any possible involvement with his aunts drug dealing, indicated by the use of the word denied. QUOTE: Mr Dametto denied having any prior knowledge of his aunts alleged involvement with drugs before her arrest and assured his constituents, he did not condone the use of dangerous drugs. I havent (been involved in drugs) nor any other member of my family to my knowledge, Mr Dametto said.(The alleged offending) has nothing to do with me, its something she has to sort out herself. UNQUOTE The fact that they asked the question no one had considered, with not a shred of even remote suggestion, is straight up political dog whistling the chorus of Ha! yeah, right from the LNP and Labor banjo-playing set is already plunking away. If Jenna Cairney and her band of work experience reporters think this is a good tactic to fill space, perhaps theyd like to door knock the parents and relatives of the juvenile little shits charged with stealing cars and property, and ask them if they had any prior knowledge or involvement the exploits of their little snots. One imagines such effrontery would meet with what some cops describe as summary justice and no argument there from this old bird. Truly base stuff, Ms Cairney. And Your Bizarre Story Placements Continue Apace Jeez-us, fair dinkum. When It Comes To Snide Stupidity, Jenna And Jenny Make A Pigeon Pair If ever proof was needed that our mayor is wetting herself about her plunging popularity and failure to fool ANY of the people ANY of the time, it came in the online Bulletin this weekend. Heres a little puzzle of current affairs test for you. Read the caption first, and then see a) how many Australia Day award winners you can spot, and b) see how many Team Hill councillors you can spot. And the Astonisher certainly has its political priorities right the caption lists Mayor Mullet and Premier Alphabet but failed to mention that dorky looking bloke in the center. Oh, him, hes not worth mentioning, just the Governor of Queensland and former Chief Justice Paul de Jersey. But then have a look along the line search as he could, The Pie was not able to see it reported anywhere that either Clr Ann-Maree Greaney, Clr Maurie Soares, Clr Colleen Boo Hoo Doyle, Clr Les Messagebank Walker, Mayor Mullet Jenny Hill, or Clr Kurt Rehbein had received any Australia Day honours. So WTF are THEY doing, holding some sort of prize, which if it is an Australia Day Award, is grossly dishonest to say the least a pathetic please re-elect me plea? They are making themselves out to be winners of some sort which is looking more and more unlikely next time around. But OK, why is the old bird surprised, this is about the level of honesty weve come to expect from these denizens of the Walker Street trough. Its such a thigh-slapping inept attempt at campaign virtue signalling it has just proved two things shes desperate and shes dumb. But or All that, Mayor Mullet May Get Back In A new study of Townsville voters has discovered why we have the political representation we have. Well, at least it explains it for us, but not much can be done, youd reckon. Now, Having Said That, Maybe The Magpie Owes Mrs Hill An Apology Last week and on a couple of previous occasions The Pie has snidely written that Mayor Mullet picks up $31K a year in fees plus expenses for attending 6 LGAQ meeting a year as one of the three ordinary directors of the Association. She will retain that position until June 2020. Well, shame-faced as he is to say it, it appears that The Magpie may be WRONG (clutch the pearls to throat, gals, splutter in your Scotch and Fanta, gents). And this error is a direct, albeit unintended, slur on our mayor, by wantonly questioning the worth of her invaluable visionary qualities and her legendary financial acumen, particularly in Indian industrial and aviation matters. Because it seems her spare-time gig at the LGAQ earns her nowhere near $31,000 p.a. It looks like its closer to $95,000 per annum! Which becomes even more interesting when you consider that the TCC pays about $250K a year membership, so it in essence means that her services to the LGAQ are in fact paid for by Townsville ratepayers as part of the citys membership fee. Indeed, it seems we stump up a total a very worth while total, mind you, who could argue of just under $300,000 a year for her incomparable leadership as she charts a clever path out of our current financial and employment morass. The Pie humbly apologises for underselling you so despicably, Mrs Hill, when you devote so much of your time so selflessly to the public good of Townsville. There will be sneering Doubting Thomases who question your championing of the Local Buy procurement arm of the LGAQ, which actually takes work OUT of this city. Those doubters say that the claimed efficiencies dont actually save the council anything, but pshaw! what would they know? They simply have no head for these sorts of figures and deals and they certainly dont understand the pressures of your obligation to an organisation that slips you almost a hundred grand a year to raise your voting arm when told. Oh, the irony, the irony. But, You Cry, Is This True? Well, it certainly seems so to better financial sleuths than The Magpie, but it all depends how you decipher the murky and ambiguous figures published by he LGAQ. Rubbery was a word bandied about frequently. And just to pique our interest, there is a little mystery item mentioned, but that later on. Lets go the LGAQ Annual Report, where on page 35 we find this as a starter. Now the remuneration seems pretty clear there sort of but it has the rubbery words ranged between. (And a brief digression they sure aint bound by pissant thoughts of CPI or inflation down at the LGAQ note the rise in fees from 2017 to 2018 a tasty 35% for the president and an eye-watering 100% for directors. And the 2017 figures dont add up anyway, which is rubbery/sloppy in itself, with no explanation offered. Makes one wonder. The question here is would someone like Jenny Hill from a place the size of Townsville (for round figures, let say 200,000) be willing to accept the same stipend as say Alf Lacey from Palm Island, which has what, about three to five thousand people? Methinks not in a month of Sundays, and PI membership would be a tiny fraction of Townsvilles.) Then we see this chart, which again seem clear. Or is it not? The disparity between the President and the directors $137,422 v $31,000 ($94,280 split three ways rounded out here) is not believable to one executive who deals in these areas. He thinks the real remuneration, especially for Jenny Hill, is actually about $94,000. But whether it totals that from these figures (where there would obviously have to be some accounting error), things get even more interesting if he scroll back to page 20, we find this And this Now these reports can be heavy going even for accountants at times, and impossible for the likes by The Magpie, but our experienced Magpie mate writes: The cost of directors fees and meeting fees for the year are $618,294 (page 20) this would kind of add up to me like 3 directors @ $95k plus the president @ $137k total of $422k leaving another $196k to be accounted for so I think the directors get 95K still and travel and accommodation listed separately as $734,441 (page 20) So all in all, maybe Jenny Hill is worth the money she gets as a director worth it to the LGAQ, anyway, when it presumably is she who calls the shots on the councils membership fees. All this is courtesy of the Townsville ratepayers. The loveliness continues. Oh, and that little mystery. Just this But to be sure, since the LGAQ runs an insurance arm, it will surely be covered for whatever alleged indiscretion did or did not take place either way, it gunna cost. A (un-doctored) Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words A somewhat antiquated clich borne out by an alert reader who reckons his shot in Flinders Street just about sums up Townsvilles quandary. And another reader pic is being repeated across the city at a growing rate. Sloppy unfinished work and weeds all around contractor or council, totally unacceptable, and could be a traffic hazard, especially in the wet. Of course, not all councils can get things right, even the mighty Randwick Council in Sydney which has its own wrestle with signage. Be interesting if a Great Dane owned by a dwarf takes a dump. Did The Townsville Chamber of Commerce Really Think About The Wisdom Of This? Putting an image of a hungry looking porker on the stationery of an outfit representing private business seems a bit risky. But it gets more pointed when it is advertising a Townsville information session for the LGAQs Local Buy mob. Of course, in very small print, the presence of porky is explained as recognition of the Chambers Chinese membership, it is the Year of the Pig. Well, come to think of it, it IS an election year Pot Calling Kettle Award Of The Week. This goes to US Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, addressing an emergency meeting of the Organisation of American States last Wednesday on the unrest in Venezuela, and rescinding recognition of the elected leader. He said: The time for debate is done. The regime of former President Nicholas Maduro is illegitimate. His regime is morally bankrupt, economically incompetent and it is profoundly corrupt. It is undemocratic to the core. All absolutely correct except for two words, and many Americans know which two they are but guess you wouldnt know, Mikey, what a gerbil performance history awaits you, fella. We can shortly expect Trump to recognise Pauline Hanson as Australias legitimate leader, and for the forthcoming elections to be cancelled, since elections have little meaning in Washington. Apparently. But before Trump can make any such declaration how Australia can be governed, he will need the permission of the man behind him. And thats just the start for this week in Trumpistan. And Finally, For A Final Rueful Laugh Or Two. Time and technology play unexpected tricks on us, taking just a few short years to reverse human behaviour. .. Thats it for this week, but as usual, comments are running hot on all sorts of topics, so have your say, comments can be posted 24/7. And if youre in a kindly mood (or just drunk, doesnt matter) a donation to help the old bird keep floating above it all is always appreciated and put to good use. The how to donate button is below. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/hi-jacking-australia-day-photo-op-fail-shows-that-the-mayor-knows-how-deep-she-is-in-the-electoral-doo-doos/