#i will apparently be working on my own ballot tomorrow instead of tonight because of all the time wasted on this

[woodelf68]

For Your Consideration

Well, I failed at posting any new fic this year, but I have lots of old stuff if you need more fics to fill out your Chipped Cup Awards Ballot. Everything's got a little summary that should help you figure out what categories they'd be good for, and if something has already won a TEA in previous years, that will be noted.

My Rumbelle and Anyelle fic here!

@the-chipped-cup-awards

[hazelandglasz]

“I just came out of surgery and I’m convinced you’re my partner but you’re the just the long suffering (and super hot) trainee nurse” AU !! Klaine!please and thank you ! Soooo cute and funnyyyyy ! Can Kurt be super high on painkillers ??

On AO3

“Did you hear about the patient in room 21?”

Kitty seems far too enthusiastic about one of their patients for it to be normal. Blaine sighs. “No, but I’m going to hear about them, aren’t I?”

“Well, you’re on night duty, and you’ll have to be there when he wakes up, so buckle up, buttercup,” Kitty retorts, jumping up to sit on Blaine’s desk.

In response, Blaine sits back and gestures for her to go on.

“Mr. Hummel, 26, living in Bushwick, came into our care tonight because he… Drumroll, please.”

Blaine obediently drums on the desk.

“He broke his forearm against his wall, when his feet got tangled in his sheet as he tried to escape from a spider.”

Blaine’s eyes widen with every part of Kitty’s story, before he can let out a snort. “Oh my God.”

“True story.”

“That is quite an injury.”

“Dr. Chang had to operate, yes.”

They both wince at the thought, before Kitty jumps off the desk. “He’s been back in the room for 30 minutes, and Chang wants you to make sure he doesn’t get off his meds for the night.”

“Oh, special treatment.”

“Apparently, his dad is a congressman.”

Blaine nods—he remembers now. His last election in Ohio before leaving for New York was to cast a ballot for one Burt Hummel, who represented everything he hoped for his home state.

“Besides, arm injuries are really painful, so, work on your bedside manner.”

Blaine stands, straightening his scrubs. “My bedside manners are impeccable, Nurse Wilde. Don’t try to turn the table on me.”

Kitty snickers as she unbuttons her own scrubs, revealing her wrinkled t-shirt. 

“My point exactly.”

Kitty’s snicker turns into a boisterous laugh as she walks out of his office. “Have fun with drugged boy!”

Blaine rolls his eyes before deciding to go to the room, just in case Mr. Hummel wakes up.

In room 21, sure enough, the man laying in bed stirs, showing every sign of the anesthesia wearing off.

Blaine is ready, a bag of painkillers in his hand ready to be attached to the I.V., when the man blinks and makes a small noise.

“Honey?”

Blaine looks around the room, but there is no one else with them. Kitty didn’t say anything about Mr. Hummel having a significant other, but you never know.

“Hum, welcome back Mr. Hummel. Is everything okay?”

The man smiles tiredly (or, more accurately, druggedly). “Oh, sweetie, Mr. Hummel is my father, you know that.”

O-okay then.

Blaine sits down, checking whether everything is, in fact, okay with his patient. 

“You’re so pretty.”

Blaine blushes, his eyes looking up from Mr. Hummel’s wrist to his face and, well.

It is a nice face.

He laughs, a bit embarrassed and really glad that there is no one else in the room to record that exchange and use it to annoy him to the rest of his days in this hospital. “Well, um, thank you. I appreciate th—”

Blaine would have finished that sentence if Mr. Hummel had not tried to pet his cheek with his casted hand. Grabbing it as delicately as possible, he puts it back on Mr. Hummel’s chest.

“I’m so happy you’re here with me.”

The man has a soft smile on his face, soft enough that it tugs at Blaine’s heartstrings in a way he has not experienced in a long time.

“Don’t worry,” he says, keeping his hand on top of the cast, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“‘Course not,” Mr. Hummel says, before blowing Blaine a kiss.

“Here,” Blaine says, after clearing his throat, “drink some water.”

“Hmm, yesss.”

The man drinks from the straw, looking so young as he does that Blaine relaxes a bit.

Too much, too soon.

“I love you so much,” Mr. Hummel says between two mouthfuls of water. 

“Oh. Thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” he replies decisively, before drinking some more. “You should love me too.”

“I should?” Blaine laughs. “Seems a bit rushed, I mean, we only meant today. I’m all for romance, but even for me that is a bit…”

“We haven’t met today,” Mr. Hummel says with a pout. “We met a long time ago, don’t you remember me?”

Blaine cocks his head to the side. “Mr. Hummel, what’s my name?”

His patient looks confused for a moment. “I can’t remember. But I just woke up. And I know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Some day, your last name will be my last name.”

Blaine blinks. “Really?”

“Yep. At the chapel.”

“I’m not sure I like the chapel very much,” Blaine replies, considering the small hospital chapel and its lack of windows.

“Why not?!” Mr. Hummel exclaims, positively outraged.

“Now, now, I’m kidding,” Blaine says, smiling against his better judgment.

“I think we should get,” Mr. Hummel says, pausing to take a sip, “maaaaaa-rried!”

Oh wow.

“I should have recorded it all,” Blaine whispers.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Mr. Hummel beams at him, eyes closing again. “You’re so adorable,” he says, voice dropping to a whisper. “I wish I could kiss you.”

“Maybe later,” Blaine whispers back, knowing that, if anything, that will help appease his patient back to sleep.

A frown appears between his eyebrows. “It hurts. I’m scared,” he whispers again, and Blaine goes to attach the bag of painkillers. “No!” he exclaims. “Don’t leave me!”

Blaine takes hold of Mr. Hummel’s uninjured hand as soon as he gets on the other side of the bed, attaching the bag to the I.V. one handed. “Shh, shh, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hm. Where—where are my clothes?”

Instead of calming down and falling back to sleep, Mr. Hummel seems more agitated. 

“Hey, it’s going to be alright. You’re in the hospital?”

“The hospital?!” Mr. Hummel exclaims, dropping Blaine’s hand and trying to sit up. “Why am I in the hospital?”

Blaine takes Mr. Hummel’s hand, squeezing his fingers until he squeezes back. “You broke your arm. You got an operation, and now you’ll be fine.”

The patient does calm down at that, rubbing his thumb along Blaine’s hand. “You’re so sweet. I love you so much.” He lets out a happy sigh. “What would I do without you?”

Blaine can only laugh. 

“We are the cutest couple ever.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“And we will get married.”

“Sure.”

“In blue.”

“A blue wedding?”

“A blue wedding.”

“Okay.”

“And I want a blue wedwing.”

“A what?”

Mr. Hummel drinks some more water. “A. Blue. Wed. Ring.”

“Ah! A blue wedding ring. Okay.”

“Satyre.”

Blaine frowns. “Don’t you mean sapphire?”

Mr. Hummel frowns before beaming at Blaine, eyes closed. “See? That’s why I love you.”

Before Blaine can react, a loud snore comes out of his patient’s mouth, head lolling to the side as he falls asleep with a smile on his lips.

Blaine stands, checking that everything is on track. If everything goes smoothly, Mr. Hummel should have a quiet night and wake up a bit dizzy but in full possession of his mental capacity.

As far as weird anesthesia experience go, this moment was a fairly cute one.

Blaine closes the door quietly and proceeds to move on to the next room.

After all, as cute as he may be, Mr. Hummel is not the only patient needing Blaine.

#

When Kurt wakes up, his mouth feels as dry as a desert, and his arm feels painful and heavy.

“Ow.”

Someone moves around the room to stand next to his bed. “Good morning, Mr. Hummel,” a male voice says cheerfully. “How are we feeling this morning?”

Kurt painstakingly opens his eyes, and either the painkillers are distorting reality to make it look more appealing, or this hospital has hired some gorgeous male nurses.

“I, um.” Kurt pauses, mouth dry now for several reasons.

“I’m sure you must be thirsty—here,” the nurse tells Kurt, sitting down next to the bed and holding a glass with a straw for him.

Kurt empties the cup before looking up. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the nurse replies with a grin. “Did you sleep well?”

“Um. I, I did, thank you, Mister…?”

“I’m Blaine.”

“I’m Kurt.”

They look at each other for a moment before Blaine steps away from the chair to put the cup away.

“Do you remember what happened when you woke up?”

Kurt frowns at Blaine’s back. “What… I woke up and you were there, offering water?”

Blaine turns back, his grin wider. “Ah. So you don’t remember. It’s okay.”

“Did I do something… untoward?”  

“Not exactly,” Blaine replies, coming closer to check Kurt’s vitals and jotting them down onto his file. “You were…” he pauses, before looking at Kurt with a faint blush on his cheeks, “...you were cute, drugged out of your mind.”

“Ah?” Kurt tries to jog his memory, but nothing comes back to him. Then he shrugs. “I’ve been called worse.”

Blaine chuckles. “I bet. How is the pain?”

Kurt looks down at the blue cast around his arm. “Manageable.”

“Good.” Blaine writes it down too, before taking a deep breath. “Well, then. I should leave you to it. My colleagues will be here in a short moment.”

“You’re leaving?”

Blaine looks startled. “Um. Yes? The day-time team is in charge now?”

“But—” Kurt starts, a fuzzy memory from the past evening coming to mind. “You said you were not going anywhere.”

Blaine’s face softens. “So you do remember.”

“Just... just that part.”

“I see.” Blaine comes to stand next to the bed and closes his fingers around Kurt’s forearm. “What I meant was that you wouldn’t be left alone. And you won’t.”

“Ah. Well. Thank you for being there when I rambled.” Kurt would very much like for Blaine to stop looking at him with that gentle smile. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Blaine says as he stands, adjusting his scrubs. “But I think you’ll be gone. I wish you good health and, um,” Blaine pauses, his lips stretched into a crooked smile, “good luck against the spider.”

Kurt lets out a disbelieving laugh as Blaine exits the room.

Holy shit, he thinks. I’m in love.

--TBC?--

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Days 224-225

October 21 and 22 I have been thinking that it might be time to let the journal go down to once every couple of days or a few times a week, since it really has been quite a long time since the start of lockdown, but then I went to write tonight about what happened yesterday and I can't remember a goddamned thing. Many things have changed since the start of quarantine, but that pernicious "time isn't a real thing anymore" feeling has yet to go away. One of the original purposes of doing this was for me to record my own days so I would remember what happened when, and that's still useful. So I guess you're all still coming along for the ride, because I am terrible at keeping a private journal but have managed to do this thing for more than half a year now.  Anyway, yesterday was a day. It was a day in which things happened, I'm sure. It's weird to not be able to remember what I did. It was Wednesday, so that means it was asynchronous learning day... ah, right. Kiddo had his morning meeting and at the end of it I happened to hear his teacher ask him if he'd gotten her email. I asked him what the email was, and he admitted that he might have actually not been keeping up with his core subject work in the same way he hadn't been keeping up with his resources lessons. To the tune of about ten days worth of assignments, in fact. So that wasn't great. I had a quick exchange with his teacher and promised we were going to get the work turned in, and we spent the day with him doing school in the living room instead of his bedroom, so I could actually watch him and make sure he was doing it. He got all his daily work done and two old assignments in both math and language arts, so it was a decent start. Can't get everything done in one day.  I noticed while I was working with him that he seems to have slipped backwards some in his math skills. I know he learned long multiplication last year, but he seemed to have forgotten the nuances of it, and he was very bad at remembering basic multiplication facts. I like common-core style math, mostly, but I think it's bullshit that they've gotten away from memorizing the multiplication charts. Yes he can use his skills to do them in his head, but he shouldn't have to do them, they should just _be_ there. I had to have multiplication tables down cold by the end of fourth grade, and we'd all recite them every day as a class. It was annoying and boring, yes, but it worked. I don't really think you can do much higher math without just knowing multiplication and division facts. So we're working on that. He's got the two times table down fine, and everybody knows tens, so we're working now on the extremely useful threes table. It'll be a process.  Anyway, we worked on the basic processes of long multiplication for a little bit, both the basic way I learned and the common core style "split one factor into easy component pieces like tens and single digits, multiply and add all those together." I have gotten so much better at math in my head since I picked that trick up. Getting him to write a complete sentence for language arts is still like pulling teeth, but we got through a couple of assignments: a powerpoint presentation on inferences that he had to complete and a writing web to prepare him for the five paragraph paper they've got coming up. That is going to be so unfun, you have no idea. Hopefully we'll at least be caught up by then.  We didn't go anywhere or do anything yesterday except that Husband got out to vote. Apparently over 17,000 of the 49,000 registered voters in this county have already cast their ballots, with 950 of those just on Tuesday. Maybe we won't have anybody left to vote by election day and we'll just sit around with our well-staffed precincts, eating potluck dinner and picking at our nails. At least the gym at the high school is fixed from the fire they had last winter (Oh for the naivete of 2019, when we thought that having to distribute the students from one high school and middle school into the other schools was massive disruption of the learning process!), so our precinct is no longer left orphaned and shoved into any public space that will have us.  The Democratic primary was brutal this year because they made us do it in the registrar's office itself, which means that everybody who has no idea where they were supposed to vote would just come to the registrar's office, see that people were voting, and try to vote too. The upside is that I learned the location of nearly every other precinct in the county from having to tell people where to go. For the Republican primary we were in the senior center, which was better because nobody cared about the Republican primary and also we were at least around the corner from the registrar's office. People were still lured in by our sultry "vote here" signs, but not as many. Once we are tucked back into our gymnasium where people sort of have to know we are there, I think that problem will mostly solve itself. The masks and shields are going to be awful, though. Working a sixteen hour day is hard enough without them!  And that brings us to today, which I at least have not forgotten about yet. Kiddo had a doctor's appointment (no blood test so it went fine) and we checked out a new Cub Scout troop. Unfortunately it seems there Webelos only meet every other week and we were in the off week, but he was perfectly content to hang around with the Wolves and enjoy an extremely unstructured meeting that consisted mainly of ball-throwing-and-chasing games. That's fine with me; at this point I could care less about his patches and I just want him to have a little fun. And he did, so we'll definitely go back next week.  On the way home from Cub Scouts I was singing TMBG's We Want A Rock, a delightfully nonsensical song, when the kiddo mentioned wistfully that I never sang his favorite lullaby anymore even though I used to sing it all the time. I was a little surprised because I have a pretty stable rotation of lullabies for the increasingly rare occasions when he wants sung to at night. Sweet Baby James, That's What Living is To Me, Chanson Por Les Petits Enfants, and Return to Pooh Corner are the usual suspects, but he reminded me of an old Chad and Terri Sigafus lullaby I used to sing him.  Hush my darling, now close your eyes And mama will sing you a lullaby Soon you'll be dreaming of rainbows and colors And all of the good things tomorrow will bring And we'll laugh, dance, play in the sun Whisper and giggle, hop, skip and run We'll build a castle as high as a mountain And talk to the dragons, just you and me. And we'll sail out on a crystal clear ocean You'll be the captain and I'll be the crew We'll play bows and arrows and be superheroes There's nothing that I'd rather do Than play Let's Pretend with you. 

It's a lovely little song that I cannot find in playable format anywhere online, too bad. I did used to sing it to him a lot because it was from a tape I had when I was a kid, and I used to sing it to my youngest sister when she was a baby. In more recent years I made the unfortunate discovery that the artists were uncomfortably close to the Christian Identity Movement, which is big bad news racist bullshit, and I kinda stopped liking their music as much. But the kiddo loves this song more than I had realized, and once I sang it for him he got very excited and made me sing it three more times so he could learn the words better. Death of the author, I guess. It's nice to know that he does listen to and appreciate some of the music I've sung for him over the years, and that my subpar singing voice is special to him because I am his mom. 

Only other thing of major note today was that I got an update on Barry and Bixby, my feral orange boys from midsummer. Things didn’t go well for them in their second foster, which created some friction between me and the rescue coordinator as to whose fault it was that feral kittens are (gasp) afraid of crowds and loud noises. But we’re over that now, and the kitties found a caretaker who is okay with friendly boys who are not precisely housecats. They get lots of treats and petting, and look like the kings of their domain. Look how much they’ve grown! I’m so pleased.