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forabeatofadrum · 5 years ago

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Myosotis sylvatica (14/24)

Notes: Hello and happy belated new year. Can you believe we’ve entered the 2020s? One more year till location tracking becomes mandatory on all devices!

Well, hi there. It’s nice to see you. Welcome back for another chapter of Mysotis sylvatica, my 2019 advent story. I think updates will be more hectic than the updates on 2018 advent story All the pretty things that we could be (yes, shameless plug!), since I am about to move countries for my study. Ah, I finished that one in 2019, so I don’t care. I’m just happily writing.

That being said, enjoy the awkward Hummel-Hudson Christmas.

AO3

NEST

Kurt should be happy.

His dad and Carole are in New York for Christmas. Kurt and Blaine arranged a car to pick them up, since they avoid going outdoors. Ever since Kurt posted his extended statement, the press has been everywhere. Luckily, thanks to privacy laws instated in 2023, the press is gone for Christmas. Still, Burt and Carole arrived by a car.

Kurt’s happy to see them. He hugged his dad tightly and he kissed Carole on the cheek. They did the generic greetings and even though Kurt expected it, he was sad to realise that the shallowness from Thanksgiving break had not completely disappeared yet.

Blaine put away their stuff, so that they can take it with them to the hotel, and he them poured some coffee. It’s all going so well and Kurt should be happy.

He should be happy to see that his dad and Carole are so comfortable in the apartment. He should be happy that his dad clearly loves Blaine. He should be happy that Blaine fits in this family like a piece of a puzzle.

He should be happy.

Growing up, he never truly imagined this scenario: him, living in New York with a man, and his family being completely comfortable with it. Sure, after his coming out in his sophomore year, the scenario became more plausible, since his dad has been nothing but supporting, but it’s still a dream.

Or it was a dream.

Kurt still isn’t sure what tenses to use. You’d think he’d be more understanding of his situation after almost half a year, but no.

The conversations remain a bit shallow, but the familiarity between Blaine and his family makes it seem less forced. They still avoid the more serious and difficult topics, but Blaine talks freely with Burt and Carole pitches in every now and then. It makes it easier for Kurt as well, but it is clear that the others have reached a certain moment in their relationship that Kurt isn’t even close to.

It’s strange to be jealous of this, but then again, everything is strange to Kurt.

When they’re exchanging gifts, Kurt almost breaks down. They’re all drinking expensive champagne (alcohol-free for Blaine) near the Christmas tree and his dad hands Blaine a parcel.

Blaine unwraps it. It’s a box and when Blaine opens the lid, he looks like he’s ready to burst. He shuts the box and he basically throws his arms around Kurt’s dad.

“Thank you! You’re the best dad ever!” he yells and Kurt goes stiff.

No one notices. His dad is returning the tight embrace and Carole looks incredibly satisfied.

“You like it?”

“I love it! I thought that they were sold out everywhere,” Blaine opens the box again and Kurt moves closer to get a better look. He frowns when he sees a bowtie.

“Don’t you have 69 of those?” Kurt asks.

Blaine laughs and he immediately takes it out of the box to put it on. “Well, 70 and counting, love. This is a special edition.”

“It was quite difficult to find one without Kurt’s assistance,” his dad says jokingly, but to Kurt it feels like another stab to his heart. Is he supposed to know that Blaine wants this specific bowtie? He can’t even understand what’s so special about it. Surely, he appreciates the aesthetic, since Kurt can always appreciate good fashion, but he has no idea how to react.

“Oh, I can imagine. Carole?” Blaine hands the bowtie to Carole. Carole helps Blaine with tying his bowtie and Blaine lets her. It’s a familiar move. It must be. Carole pats Blaine on his cheek when she’s done.

Kurt feels incredibly out of place. He’s watching his family, but they’ve all carried on without him. Blaine fits in perfectly and it is very, very clear that his dad and Carole have accepted him as part of the family. It’s all Kurt ever wanted.

Blaine even calls Kurt’s dad ‘the best dad ever’. Blaine is completely at home here.

Kurt feels like he’s the one who should be in Blaine’s position. He should be the one to make inside jokes with his dad. He should be the one to talk about latest trends with Carole. He should call his dad ‘the best dad ever’.

Goddamnit, he should be happy.

Instead, he sips his overly expensive drink and he watches how Blaine gives Carole a gift. Of course it’s all familiar to them. Of fucking course.

After his dad and Carole have gone to the hotel, Blaine asks him if it’s okay if Blaine goes to the office. Kurt wholeheartedly agrees, since he’s also in the mood for some alone time.

He goes to the bedroom to clean his mother’s dresser. Swipe left. Swipe right. Swipe left. While he’s at it, he also taps his nose three times and you know, he also has the time to rearrange his wardrobe to have it colour-coordinated. It’s a very colourful wardrobe, since Blaine’s clothes are in it as well.

He cleans his mother’s dresser one more time, just to feel good, before he turns to the wardrobe. Rearranging clothes feels like a nice distraction from the fact that he feels like a stranger amongst his own family.

He’s been doing a lot of rearranging lately. It’s just nice to feel in control of something, although Blaine was very confused to see that the kitchen counters’ content had been rearranged. Kurt likes it.

While colour-coordinating, he sometimes looks over at his mother’s dresser.

Would she have loved Blaine as much as his father?

“I think you would’ve adored him, mom,” Kurt says, and then he adds, “Dad certainly does.”

His shoulders slump and he almost drops Blaine’s lobster cardigan. Yes, he has a cardigan with lobsters on it.

“I am just so tired of feeling out of the loop, mom. It is clear that Blaine’s part of the family, and I am glad, but I’ve missed all the steps in-between. I’ve missed the awkward first meeting and my dad probably threatening Blaine with his non-existent shotgun. I’ve missed Carole gushing over Blaine’s politeness. I’ve missed the moment my dad and Blaine started calling each other ‘dad and ‘son’. I’ve missed the moment I told them about our apparent engagement. I’ve missed it all and I hate it.”

That’s also a recent thing. Kurt thought he was finally making peace with not knowing things, but ever since he posted the statement on Firmspring, he can’t help but wonder how he must’ve felt during the highlight of his career. It started with his career, but now the uneasy feeling is reaching other aspects of his life.

Watching this gift exchange truly felt like someone drop kicked him into the ground.

“At least I can still talk about these things with you, mom. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but with you, I can sort of pretend that everything’s new and exciting when it comes to Blaine. I can introduce you. He knows that I talk to ‘you’. I truly don’t know what you’d think of him. Unfortunately, I will never know the answer.”

But then Kurt sighs sadly.

“Who am I kidding? This is my life now and unless there’s a neuroscientific breakthrough, it will remain this way. The wardrobe is finished.”

He closes the wardrobe door and he decides to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. They have to get up early, since his dad and Carole are coming over for breakfast. When he opens the bedroom door, the sight of Blaine surprises him.

Blaine looks like a deer caught in headlights. Kurt understands why.

“How much did you hear?”

Blaine doesn’t reply. Instead he leans closer, and Kurt’s almost certain that Blaine’s going to kiss him, but then he wraps his arms around Kurt. Kurt immediately sags in Blaine’s arms. Damn, he needed a hug.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all of this alone, love,” Blaine says softly, “What can I do to make this better for you?”

“Nothing,” Kurt tells him, “I can’t ask you to not be comfortable around my dad and Carole. That’s not fair.”

“I’d do it for you.”

Of course, he would. That’s what Blaine does.

“You can’t. I’d feel shit for a different reason. I don’t want to ruin Christmas.”

“They would understand as well,” Blaine points out. It’s true, since everyone’s been incredibly helpful and accommodating.

“No, just please act like nothing is wrong,” Kurt says, knowing it is impossible, but hey, it’s nice to pretend, “Right now I want to go to sleep. Despite everything, I am very excited for breakfast. We’ll talk about this later.”

Blaine hugs Kurt for a little bit longer, but then they go to the bathroom to get ready. They need some time, since their skincare regimes are quite long, but when they’re finally lying in bed, it’s worth it.

“Blaine?”

“Yes?”

“Why do they have to stay in a hotel? Isn’t the office also a guest room?”

“The office is filled with a lot of stuff, Kurt,” Blaine reminds him, “Besides, we don’t want them to hear us having sex and they don’t want to hear us having sex, so it’s better for everyone if they just go.”

Kurt can feel himself turn red, so it is a good thing that the lights are out. At the fine age of nineteen, Kurt’s over his whole innocent penguin stage, but it is still weird to hear Blaine talk about their sex lives so casually.

Blaine must’ve noticed the awkward silence, since he quickly wishes Kurt a goodnight and he turns away.

The day after, Kurt and Blaine don’t mention their small conversation about sex. Everything is fine. Burt and Carole come over around 9am to have breakfast at their apartment, and it’s a nice morning.

Sure, it still stings to see how everyone else is so comfortable with each other, but now that he’s shared his feelings with his mom and Blaine, it’s sort of easier to let go of it. It is still there in the back of his mind, but he focuses on trying to have fun. His dad is in New York for Christmas!

Around 1pm, they leave the apartment and they head towards Broadway. They’re going to see a show. Apparently, it’s tradition for his dad and Carole to see a show in New York. They come to New York as often as possible, since even today, they have a huge case of empty nest syndrome.

Going outside attracts lots of attention. Going outside to freaking Broadway certainly attracts lots of attention. People are filming Kurt from all angles. He can hear people whisper as they walk by. Some even stop Kurt to ask him some questions.

Even when you go rogue, like Kurt, privacy isn’t given. The tracking wires might not pick up his exact location, but everyone with an internet connection and a Firmspring account knows where to find him. Lovely.

Blaine handles the invasive fans with such grace, which makes Kurt’s annoyance barely noticeable. While Blaine talks to fans, Kurt looks around. He has set foot on the actual Broadway (as in the street), despite the amnesia, but he has never really paid attention to the many billboards and marquees.

He’s not surprised to see that the Phantom of the Opera is still running, so he can’t say that it’s a relief to see something he recognises. There are some revivals that Kurt recognises, but as expected, many titles are new. Who calls a musical Mr. Millenium and the Wonder Emporium? Why is there such a big line around Hamilton? Did Breaking Bad truly get a musical adaption? Kurt doesn’t even want to know what Mr. Barley and the Incurable Itch is about.

Jazz Hands the Musical does sound amusing, though.

Blaine thanks the fan and the four of them continue their walk. They pass Kurt’s theatre. His name is no longer on the marquee, now that his understudy has taken over full-time, and it makes Kurt a bit jealous. Then again, he doesn’t even remember the show or his role, so it feels foolish to be jealous over it.

They walk past the theatre and Kurt doesn’t look back. Instead he shifts his focus back to the many colourful marquees.

“Hey, isn’t that your favourite show?” Kurt points towards a marquee for Hadestown.

“It is,” Blaine says quickly, “But let’s keep moving. We have to be in time for the matinee performance of The Gondola.”

Kurt’s dad and Blaine lead the way, since they picked out the show together.

Kurt and Carole are behind.

“How is everything, Kurt?” Carole says, “We haven’t really talked yet.”

“I’m just pulling through,” Kurt answers and they both know it’s the truth. As promised, Kurt and his dad haven’t told Carole about the recent developments. Sometimes, Kurt regrets it, but then he sees this poorly hidden hopeful look on Carole’s face and he knows he’s done the right thing.

She’s already lost so much. Hope is the one thing she can hold on to.

“Do we need to send you more photos?” Carole suggests. Kurt shakes his head. Carole doesn't know that he hasn't looked at the photos yet.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do, Carole, but thank you for offering.”

Carole huffs. “I don’t want you to feel alone, Kurt.”

“I’m not,” Kurt says, and he starts to smile, “I have friends here, Carole. I see Roderick and Mae the most. I regularly talk to Rachel and Kitty. I even talk to Jesse on a regular basis. I’ve recently had some drinks with Wes, Sebastian and Adam.”

He looks at Blaine and his dad. They’re in a heated discussion about the show’s set design.

“And I have Blaine. He’s… he’s, uhm, great.”

“We love him,” Carole says.

“I’ve noticed,” Kurt says, sounding a bit bitter. Carole looks up in surprise, but she doesn’t argue with him.

“Is it weird for you that we love Blaine?” she asks. There’s no judgement. She sounds sincerely curious. The thought probably hadn’t even occurred to her. No one feels as left out as Kurt, so Kurt doesn’t blame them for not noticing.

“It is,” Kurt admits. He’s not in the mood to relive all those emotions again, but there’s no reason for him to lie.

“How can we make it better for you?” Carole asks and Kurt feels like the luckiest man alive. His family is just so incredibly supportive of everything. Blaine asked the exact same thing last night.

Therefore, Kurt gives her the same answer.

“I understand, Kurt. I hadn’t even thought of it. I’ve completely accepted Blaine as part of the family, since he’s kind and lovely and he desperately needs a family.”

Blaine still doesn’t talk about his own family that much, but by now, Kurt knows that it’s not good. He barely talks to his father and his mother isn’t ‘just in the Philippines’, she’s unexpectedly moved there without telling anyone. She did call them to ask how they’re doing, since she read Kurt’s Firmspring statement. Blaine’s only somewhat close to his ecstatic brother Cooper, but that’s recent. Cooper flew to New York after he read the Firmspring post and Kurt realised that Blaine's family life is not to be discussed. Not yet, at least.

“That’s another reason why I don’t want you guys to change the way you act around each other,” Kurt says, “It’s not natural.”

“I am just sad that you feel this way. We love Blaine, just like you do.”

The words almost make Kurt stop dead in his tracks. He doesn’t love Blaine?

Well, it makes sense. The relationship is no longer brand new, since they’ve been dating for a while, but does Kurt love Blaine? He certainly likes Blaine, but he hasn’t really put much thought into it. He’s been too preoccupied with the whole amnesia thing.

Oh wow.

Kurt’s dad and Blaine erupt into laughter, which make Kurt and Carole look at them.

“What is it, boys?” Carole asks and she has an amused look on her face.

“Nothing big, mom,” Blaine says nonchalantly. Mom. Not even Kurt calls Carole ‘mom’.

“We’re here!” Kurt’s dad says and it’s true. They’re stood underneath the marquee of The Gondola. Of course, people are taking photos of Kurt and Blaine.

Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and he tries to shelter him from the many phones. He’s thoughtful like that.

Kurt’s not entirely sure if he loves Blaine. He truly hasn’t had the moment to stop and examine his feelings about Blaine. He just accepted it for what it is.

Whatever it is, it is good. He can totally imagine himself falling in love with Blaine. After all, what is not to love?

End notes: Shout out to Kayla for coming up with “Mr. Millenium and the Wonder Emporium” and “Jazz Hands the Musical”. Shout out to Margot for gifting me with the atrocious title “Mr. Barley and the Incurable Itch”, I love it.

“The Gondola” is my own creation. I have absolutely no idea what it is about. All I know is that I named it after the Jogan Gondola.

#klaine advent 2019 #klaine advent: nest #klaineadvent #klaine #glee #holy fuck I wrote #2020 #yup it's a thing #multichaptered #i feel like i am forgetting a tag

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musiclovingbitch · 5 years ago

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Nest

Summary: Kurt comforts his husband after an upsetting phone call.

Written for the 2019 Klaine Advent prompt: nest, and the fourteenth @gleepotluckbigbang prompt: ornaments!

~600 words

on AO3

“Sometimes I think Cooper has mellowed out with age, then I actually have a conversation with him,” was the first thing Blaine said as he walked in his and Kurt’s bedroom.

“What did he do now, Honey?” Kurt’s voice floated through the door to their en-suite bathroom, where, knowing him, Kurt was doing his nightly skin care routine.

Blaine sighed and ran a hand through his curls. He went inside their bathroom and leaned against the doorway, watching as Kurt applied a moisturizer to his face.

“We were talking on the phone and he asked me how I feel now that, and I’m quoting here, ‘our little bird is leaving the nest’, and I thought that, hey, my brother is asking about how I’m feeling, he wants to know how I am given that there’s a major change coming in my life, but nope,” he laughed bitterly, “I started to talk about the whole situation, and he interrupted me and told me to explain my feelings using five words or less. As it turns out, he was just cast in a movie where his character is an empty nester, as he put it, and he called me for research.”

Kurt looked at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry, love.”

Blaine shrugged, but there was a bitter twist to his mouth still. “It’s just how he is, I don’t know why I expected anything different.”

Kurt sighed. “Have you considered that maybe he was calling to check up on you, and this character research thing is just a guise? If you think back to some of the things he’s called to ask you about over the past decade, things that according to him were for research for movies he’d been cast in, I think it’s pretty clear.”

Kurt stood up and walked over to his husband, taking him into his arms. “I mean, really, he got cast in a movie where his character is an empty nester less than a week after we told him Nick was going off to college? He got cast as a soon-to-be father less than a month after we announced Rachel was pregnant? And I don’t remember ever seeing that movie.”

“I…” Blaine seemed lost, “can’t believe it.”

Kurt smiled softly. “I’m not saying that I have your brother all figured out and that this movie definitely doesn’t exist, but I’m telling you, he cares about you, in his own way.”

Blaine looked overwhelmed.

“And Blaine?” Kurt continued, “It’s perfectly okay if his way of loving you isn’t enough for you.”

Blaine finally wrapped his arms around Kurt, and kissed him softly.

They embraced silently for a few moments before Kurt spoke up again. “Hey, Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“How are you feeling about our little bird leaving the nest?”

Blaine chuckled. “Same as you. Mixed feelings. Pride, fear.”

Kurt nodded and pressed a kiss on Blaine’s cheek. “I’m not too worried about it. He still wants to help us decorate the house for the holidays, I think we’ll be fine.”

Blaine laughed out loud. “Why is that where the line is?”

“I don’t like carrying boxes of ornaments from the attic on my own. Or at all, preferably.”

Blaine laughed again. Kurt joined him.

“In all seriousness, though, I’m kind of looking forward to having the house all to ourselves.” Kurt said, looking up at Blaine through his eyelashes.

“You are insatiable.” Blaine said with an awed smile.

“You love it.” Kurt said with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes, I really, really do.” Blaine said, before pulling Kurt back into their bedroom.

#spewing their words without menace #klaine fic #klaine advent 2019 #klaine advent: nest #GPBB Drabble December #GPBB

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wowbright · 3 years ago

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Fic: Begging the Question

Klaine Advent 2021: silence

Words: ~2150 words

Rating: General audience/Teen and Up

Bringing back the vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2021 This vignette takes place a few weeks into their companionship, immediately before Splits (and involves a teensy amount of retconning, please forgive me).

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

Notes: Elder Clarington is based off evil Warbler Clarington. And since introducing his character last Advent, I’ve decided he’s the zone leader, not the assistant to the president, which … is probably a detail only I care about. And thanks to @redheadgleek for coming to my rescue!

If you have any questions about cultural and religious references, feel free to use my ask box!

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Blaine wasn’t sure how many doors they’d knocked on so far today, but he knew it was a lot.

He also knew that Elder Clarington knew the exact number they’d knocked on, because he had one of those handheld plastic clickers with the little numbers on it that went up by one every time you pressed the little metal tab at the top with your thumb, and he clicked it every time they approached a new door.

Because to Elder Clarington, measurement was next to godliness. Something about how, because “God’s house is a house of order” and the Book of Mormon gives the exact number of Nephites who were slaughtered at Cumorah, and the Bible gives the exact measurements of the temple and how many animals should be sacrificed for each sin, missionaries should take numbers as seriously as they take anything else.

But Blaine was not going to ask Elder Clarington how many doors they had knocked, even though he was curious. It felt like 8 million, but maybe it wasn’t any more doors than Blaine usually knocked on with Elder Hummel. Only with Elder Hummel, the work was easy and light because Elder Hummel was, well, Elder Hummel. He made the world a lovely place to be, even when doors were getting slammed in their faces.

Elder Clarington, on the other hand, was exhausting. He was like a wind-up toy whose winder never ran down. And boy, did he talk. Not in the cute chatterbox way Elder Hummel had when he got excited about something, but in this overbearing, bulldozery way that conveyed Elder Clarington was God’s gift to the world and everyone should appreciate each pearl of wisdom that dropped from his lips.

Only, for the last 20 steps of their walk, Elder Clarington had managed to keep his mouth blissfully shut. So no matter how curious Blaine was about the numbers, he wasn’t going to poke the hornet’s nest of Elder Clarington’s mouth if he didn’t have to.

At least Blaine would be back to working with Elder Hummel tomorrow. This trial would not last forever.

“I have a feeling about this next one,” Elder Clarington said. Oh, well, so much for preventing the hornets. “I think it’s going to be incredible. I think we’re gonna blow some freaking minds.” He swung his hip into the waist-high garden gate that stood between them and the next house, clicking his plastic counter and slipping it back into his pocket as he slid through.

Blaine looked up at the front window and saw someone moving around toward the back of the house. at least someone was home.

Elder Clarington banged on the door like it was the gate to a castle and his fist was a battering ram. Blaine heard footsteps scurrying toward the door, then coming to a sudden halt on the other side. He waved at a peephole that was level with his pomade, and through which the footstep owner was no doubt looking at this very moment.

“it's the missionaries!” a voice said in crisp, clear, American English. From further back in the house, another voice called out something indiscernible. The voice by the door hollered back, “Don’t worry. I won’t let them in!”

The door swung open to a white woman several inches shorter and a couple decades older than Blaine. “Hello, Elders!” She glanced at their name tags. “Clarington, Anderson—I assume one of you is American, right? Sorry, we just moved here. My German ist Scheiß.”

Elder Clarington cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re both American. You’re familiar with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?”

“Oh yeah. I've read the Book of Mormon two or three times now. I’ve read the Doctrine & Covenants too, and the Pearl of Great Price, but those only once if you don't count hopping around in there every once in a while. I mean, D&C 132, right?” She let out a low whistle. “That one’s a doozy. Poor Emma.”

Blaine stifled a laugh. Doctrine & Covenants 132 wasn’t exactly his favorite, either. He loved the part about marriage being an everlasting covenant, and how experiencing this intimate relationship with another person—where you loved them more than you loved yourself and you made sacrifices for them and they would just as willingly sacrifice for you, but of course you wouldn’t let them because you love them too much—how all of that brought you closer to being like God. But the part about the prophet Joseph Smith getting to marry as many women as he liked and Emma, his only legal wife, better suck it up or an angel would destroy her … well, that part never really rang of Christ to Blaine.

Elder Clarington coughed again. “So what ward did you move out of?”

“Oh, I’m not a member. Never have been. Just taken the lessons,” the woman said.

“Oh, so your …” Elder Clarington gestured vaguely past the door. “The other person who lives here is a member? Or was?”

She laughed. “Oh, God, no. My husband is just antisocial and really bored by theological discussions. I’m Jennifer, by the way.” She held out her hand and they both shook it. “But if you can’t come inside, at least I can get you some Coke. Or bottled water. It’s getting warm out there.”

They accepted the offer, and she disappeared back into the house. Elder Clarington gave Blaine a meaningful look. “What did I tell you? She's taken the lessons. She's read the Book of Mormon. The only thing missing is she’s never prayed about it with a sincere heart and real intent, obviously.”

“Obviously,” echoed Blaine, because Elder Clarington was staring at him with this expectant look and he felt like he had to say something.

“What losers her previous missionaries must’ve been. Didn’t even tell her the right way to pray about it. I’ll bet you they were sisters.”

“That’s sexist, Elder Clarington,” Blaine said matter-of-factly.

Elder Clarington shrugged. “If sexist means I know that Heavenly Father made men and women differently, then yeah, I’m sexist.”

“He didn’t do it alone.”

Elder Clarington rolled his eyes. “You just proved my point. It took Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother to make all of us, and yet Heavenly Father is the only one who has authority over us. Because men and women are different.”

The door swung back open, putting an end to this awful conversation. Jennifer came out with a bottle caddy and plopped down on the stoop with it. “Make yourselves comfortable,” she said, gesturing to the bottles of water and Coke.

One of the blessings of wearing dark pants, even on warm days, was that you could sit on a stoop and not worry about ending up with dirt stains on your butt. So Blaine did, grabbing a mineral water on his way down.

But Elder Clarington was more interested in talking than in making himself—or anyone else—comfortable. He always was. “So what’s keeping you from praying about the Book of Mormon and receiving an answer?”

Wow, Elder Clarington. You really know how to start out soft.

Jennifer didn’t seem fazed. “Well, given that I already have and received an answer, it would be a little disingenuous of me to keep praying just to pressure God into giving me a different answer that would make the missionaries happy.” She pointed toward a little step stool tucked beneath the rose bush next to the door. “Pull up a chair if you don’t want to sit on the stoop. Unless you have some injury that prevents you from sitting, I’m not having a conversation with you towering over me like that.”

Too bad Jennifer was so much older than Blaine and married to the disembodied voice indoors. He was kind of in love with her. She reminded him of Elder Hummel—feisty and no B.S.

“I don’t have an injury,” Elder Clarington mumbled, grabbing the stool and setting it directly across from Jennifer. He leaned forward so that his face was only a couple feet from hers. “With a sincere heart and real intent, with faith in Christ that he will manifest the truth unto you?”

Jennifer scrunched up her face. “Yeah, so … Have you heard of begging the question?”

“Of course,” Elder Clarington said, with an air of being offended—though Blaine wouldn't have been surprised if his zone leader didn't know what the phrase meant. Blaine wasn't sure he did himself.

“OK. So when you beg the question, you ask a question in a way that assumes a certain answer. Like, if I say, ‘Why is German such a hideous language?’, I’m making the assumption that German is hideous. I close off any arguments that it's poetic and lyrical. Which means I’m not really asking a question.”

“That’s very interesting. But we were talking about the Book of Mormon.”

“Right. And the Book of Mormon says that if you ask God with a sincere heart and real intent whether it’s true, God will tell you it is.”

“He will.”

“Only, if I’ve already decided what the answer is going to be, I can’t ask with a sincere heart and real intent. Because asking a question sincerely means being open to any possible answer. There’s good stuff in the Book of Mormon, but that formula for prayer … if it works for you, great. I’m not here to diminish your faith. But for me—it feels like holding something back from God. Trying to stay in power over the process.”

Well, Elder Clarington’s prediction about minds being blown was at least half right. Only it wasn’t Jennifer’s mind being blown. It was Blaine��s. He’d never looked at Moroni’s promise that way. It wouldn’t have occurred to him that a person couldread it that way. But the way Jennifer put it, it seems so obvious and … maybe even a little manipulative?

But Elder Clarington was unfazed. He bulldozed ahead. “See, that’s why the Restoration of the Gospel that Joseph Smith started is so important. People have all these ideas about who God is and what religion is supposed to be like. But Scriptures tell us that prayer is not this thing where you just show up and wait for an answer. You’re supposed to figure it out using logic, and then pray to God to confirm what you’ve figured out. See, let’s look at D&C 9, which gives us God’s instructions on how to pray.” Elder Clarington had already whipped his Scriptures out from his satchel and plopped them in Jennifer’s lap, and continued speaking before she had a chance to get in a word edgewise. “See? Verse 8—” he pointed to the text and made sure that Jennifer was looking at it, “—‘But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.’ So that’s how you need to pray about The Book of Mormon. Logically, you know it’s true, and that’s okay. It’s perfectly fine to come to God with an assumption that you know what the answer is. If you do that about the Book of Mormon, you’ll feel that warmth, and you’ll know it’s true. I promise you. And I can promise that because it happened to me. When I was deciding whether to go on a mission …”

Elder Clarington launched ahead like a jackrabbit on speed. His eyes were locked on Jennifer’s, but he didn’t seem to see her. He was telling his story, his testimony of Christ—except aren’t you supposed to show your testimony too? Aren’t you supposed to be like Christ, to see people as they are, their hurt and their love and their fear, to listen to them and love them the way Jesus loves the prostitutes and lepers?

But here Elder Clarington was, not listening at all, making assumption after assumption—that ‘logically,’ she knew it was true, but she hadn’t tried hard enough to confirm it, she hadn’t done things the right way, and her relationship to God was inferior to theirs.

What Blaine wouldn’t do for just a little bit of silence. For just a few brief moments in which Elder Clarington blissfully, sagely, and in the gentle manner of Christ, decided to shut the fudge up and listen for two seconds.

Because Blaine wanted to.

“… and the Holy Spirit gave me the answer I was seeking. I know that this Gospel is true, and that’s why I came on a mission, to show people the truth—”

You’re still making it about you, Elder.

“—and guide people like you who are still looking for the answers.” Elder Clarington leaned back and took a deep breath—he certainly needed it after all that talking—but even while breathing somehow managed to have a smug grin on his face.

“Jennifer,” Blaine said, taking what might be his only chance, “are you looking for answers?”

#klaine advent 2021 #klaine advent: silence #klaine advent:silence #mormon!klaine #wowbright writes fic #my klaine advent 2021

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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

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A Wonderful Christmastime

Klaine, 1600 words, A03.

Summary: Sometimes being up in the middle of the night together is an act of love. A moment of holiday peace for Kurt and Blaine.

Note: This fic incorporates the first seven words of Klaine Advent 2020 (abashed (a classic fic word if ever there was one), brake, careless, dispensable, event, farm, and gray). It also marks my sixth (non-consecutive) year of writing for Klaine Advent.

The inspiration for the story came from a conversation with @mildly-allergic-to-life and is a gift for her - I hope you like it! Thanks also to my wonderful beta, @perryavenue.

********

Blaine snuggles deeper into the blankets and turns over, reaching out to pull Kurt against him – it’s chilly on this December night, and he knows Kurt’s feet will be cold, but he doesn’t mind. Sadly, his hand flops onto their soft flannel sheets without finding his husband. Moments later, Blaine’s half-asleep brain registers the sound of Kurt’s voice through the monitor and he smiles despite the late hour.

He drags himself out of bed and steps across the narrow hall to Taylor’s room. Kurt is lying on the floor next to her crib, singing quietly with careless grace, one hand resting gently on their baby’s back.

“Hey,” Blaine whispers. “How long have you been in here?”

Kurt twists his head to look at Blaine. “Most of the first act, and part of the second, but I skipped some of the songs.” He glances at their daughter and back at Blaine. “Legally Blonde is inspirational, but not entirely age appropriate.”

“Come to bed, you must be exhausted.”

“I can’t,” Kurt says. “Every time I take my hand off her back she wakes up.”

“Bring her with you,” Blaine says. Since they brought their newborn home six months ago this has been the topic of constant debate in their house, and with everyone they know, who all apparently feel qualified to share their opinion on how to get babies to sleep. They waver back and forth between keeping her in bed with them and trying to get her to sleep on her own, and various compromises in between. (And as they told Tina, who insisted that their very lack of routine was the problem, maybe as long as the three of them are happy and healthy she should just keep her opinions to herself.)

“You have rehearsal all day tomorrow,” Kurt says. “You need to rest. I can stay here, I don’t mind.” Kurt has built himself a little nest on the floor out of a spare quilt and throw pillows, and he’s wearing his fluffy slippers on his ever icy feet, but he still can’t be all that comfortable.

“I’ll sleep better with the two of you in our bed,” Blaine replies. Kurt shrugs, and accepts Blaine’s hand as he reaches down to help Kurt up.

As predicted, Taylor blinks her gray-blue eyes open as soon as Kurt stops touching her, but Blaine scoops her out of bed and nuzzles her little face before she can make a noise. When he looks up, Kurt is gazing fondly at the two of them.

“She has your eyelashes,” Kurt says, and Blaine grins.

“She’s a baby, they all have eyelashes like this.”

“That’s a lie, she has the best eyelashes of any baby ever. And she’s definitely going to have your enviable curls,” Kurt goes on, touching the still wispy dark hair on their daughter’s head.

“If she does, you’re in charge of hair care.”

“As if I’d let you get your gel anywhere near her.” It’s a running joke, but Blaine is serious – his hair looks so much better now that he let Kurt take charge of his products. Of course, these days he’s lucky to catch a shower before running off to rehearsal, let alone have time to style his hair, but that’s another story. Taylor comes first, and no amount of bedhead is going to change that.

Back in their own room they slide under the covers, carefully settling Taylor between the two of them, Kurt reaching across to lay his hand on Blaine’s waist. There’s a soft reddish glow to the light, coming in from the Christmas decorations in their living room. It feels peaceful.

“So what made you choose Legally Blonde to sing tonight?” Blaine asks, keeping his voice quiet as Taylor settles back into sleep. “With all the Sondheim you’ve done lately, I would have thought you’d have picked one of those.”

“I know, right?” Kurt replies. “I think it started because I had the part about the department store stuck in my head.”

“First take a deep breath, take it all in. Feel all the halogens warming your skin,” Blaine sings.

“I always loved that song. I mean, who would have thought there’d be a song about how amazing it feels to walk into the fragrance section of a department store?” Kurt says reverently.

“Right?”

“Don’t tease, you know I’m serious about the value of personal service for some things,” Kurt says. “Websites are good for certain products, but you can’t discover your personal scent on your computer.”

“Did you know that Harry Gordon Selfridge started putting the perfume counter by the front doors in part to cover up the, um, less pleasant odors outside?”

Kurt frowns. “No, but if that’s true, it makes sense. I figured it was just to entice people into spending money on scent while they were on their way in looking for clothes.”

“That too.” Blaine sighs. “So, what made you think about department stores? Have you been worrying about holiday shopping? Because we said we were going to go easy on that this year.” He inclines his head towards the baby lying between them. They love their child more than either of them can express, but she is a money pit, and they have had to revise their current budget several times to identify dispensable items.

“I think it was more that I’m so used to searching the web for deals at night…” Kurt breaks off and glares at Blaine, “and no, I was not online shopping just now.”

Blaine smirks. “I know. Your phone is still on your nightstand.” For the first few months of parenthood Kurt had spent way too much money keeping himself awake during midnight feedings by scouring the web for deals on fabric and craft supplies. After a frank review of their credit card bills, Kurt had agreed to put the brakes on his nighttime online shopping sprees.

Kurt taps his finger against Blaine’s hip. “I may have purchased a few items yesterday,” he admits, abashed. “But they were all for Taylor. Mostly I just send my dad and Carole links. If we leave them to their own devices who knows what they’ll buy her, and they’re happy to farm out the task to me.”

They lapse into silence, listening to the even, soft breaths of their little girl, who has finally loosened her grip on the silk-trimmed blanket she can’t bear to be without.

“I do understand the urge,” Blaine says. “Like wanting to stop and shop for unnecessary plastic objects…” Blaine says, a snippet of another song passing through his brain, and Kurt looks at him questioningly. “You know, from Nanci Griffith’s intro to that song, when she talks about the need to go into a Woolworth’s and buy unnecessary plastic objects?”

Kurt gazes at him, charmed. “No, I don’t know that one.”

“It’s called Love at the Five and Dime.” Blaine hums it for a second, remembering driving in the car with his mom, singing along.

“Rita was sixteen years, hazel eyes and chestnut hair. She made the Woolworth counter shine. And Eddie was a sweet romancer, and darn good dancer, and they'd waltz the aisles of the five and dime.”

”And they'd sing - "Dance a little closer to me Dance a little closer now Dance a little closer tonight Dance a little closer to me 'cause it's closing time and love's on sale tonight at this five and dime."

The melody is soft and sweet, and Blaine does his best to echo the singer’s gentle, swinging style.

Kurt rubs his thumb along Blaine’s hip. “That’s really pretty.”

“I’ll play it for you sometime. She does this neat thing where she plinks her guitar string to sound like the ‘ding’ of the elevator. I think it would work on the piano.”

“It’s a nicer shopping song than the Legally Blonde one,” Kurt says.

“It’s about love, not shopping, really.”

“So is the Legally Blonde one,” Kurt insists. “Elle is taking Emmett shopping for clothes so that he has exactly the right look to give him the confidence he needs. That’s an act of love.”

“I know.” Blaine smiles at Kurt, thinking of all the hours they’ve spent selecting outfits, Kurt never failing to offer his opinion on what Blaine should wear for an audition, or an interview, or some other career defining event. Kurt always does everything he can to help Blaine feel prepared to face the world, and Blaine appreciates it more than he can say.

“Anyway, I like the song,” Kurt says. “Sing some more.”

Blaine smiles and sings the rest of the Nanci Griffith song. By the end, the hand Kurt had rested on Blaine’s hip has gotten restless, and is moving enticingly towards Blaine’s ass.

“Honey?” Blaine asks, catching Kurt’s eye. “Is me singing about shopping turning you on?”

Kurt runs his hand back over Blaine’s hip, then walks his fingers up Blaine’s chest over his pajama shirt, his touch light and teasing. He catches Blaine’s gaze. “You should know by now, you singing about anything turns me on.”

They both look at Taylor, who is sleeping deeply now, her whole body lax. They obviously can’t get intimate with her lying in between them, but…

“Wanna go fool around by the Christmas tree?” Blaine asks, grinning.

They extricate themselves from the bed carefully, arranging the blankets just the right distance away from and around their daughter, and creep out to the living room. Kurt takes an afghan off the couch and spreads it on the floor. They lie down together, gazing at each other under the twinkling lights, until Blaine pulls Kurt into a fervent kiss.

At one point they roll a little too close to the tree, and they freeze, giggling, as Kurt re-positions a sparkling ornament so it doesn’t fall on them during an inopportune moment. And if Blaine has a bit of tinsel in his hair come morning, no one minds a bit.

End notes (sorry, I seem to have a lot of notes for this little fic)

The songs mentioned are Nanci Griffth’s very lovely Love At The Five And Dime, and Take It Like A Man from Legally Blonde. I really also wanted to work in the Barenaked Ladies ode to shopping, too, (just called Shopping) but it didn’t fit. Title is from Paul McCartney’s song A Wonderful Christmastime, covered by the Barenaked Ladies on their holiday album (which is great and includes some really fun Hanukkah songs too).

Note also that Blaine and Kurt are also tired of people asking about their baby’s name, as well as poking their nose into her sleeping habits. They picked Taylor because it’s gender-neutral and they like it, and not because Blaine knows the words to every Taylor Swift song.

#Klaine Advent 2020 #Klaine Advent: grey #Klaine #Klaine fic #@mildy-allergic-to-life #Holiday fluff #10 Years of Klaine

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honeysucklepink · 5 years ago

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Reaching Out to Touch a Stranger: A Glee Potluck Big Bang/Klaine Advent Special

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Relationships: Sam Evans/Mercedes Jones, Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates with a third wheel twist

So if you can't tell by the title, this chapter incorporates the prompt words for the 2019 @klaineadvent, plus December Drabble prompts (through the 24th) from the @gleepotluckbigbang in one very special scene. I hope to write another chapter over the break that gets more into Samcedes, but until then enjoy a BIG moment, both for Kurt and Blaine, AND for Mercedes!

Link to AO3 (leave comments for the Baby Jebus Birthday!)

------

Mercedes was starting to worry about Sam a little after the Warbler performance at Breadstix. First there was the Bieber thing. In spite of the tension with Quinn, he was determined to regain her interest. But Justin Bieber, really? The fact he’d roped the other guys in the Glee Club sans Finn into his tribute band made her eyes roll back. She texted a video to Kurt to get his reaction (his only response was OMG I’ve never been so happy to be stuck in this blazer).

But then he started dating Santana, and all bets were off.

“Santana freaking Lopez, Sam? Really?” Mercedes cornered Sam in the cafeteria. “That’s your rebound from Quinn Fabray?”

“I don’t need a lecture, Mercedes…”

“I’m not lecturing, I’m just worried. Quinn at least has a good soul; I’ve seen it. But Santana is a user that I’m pretty sure eats souls for breakfast.”

“Well, she’s fun.”

“Really? Tell me one thing y’all do for fun.”

Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “I...uh, damn is that the time? I gotta go ‘Cedes I have, uh, football practice.”

He ran out as Mercedes shouted, “Football season was over two months ago!”

------

By the time the Rachel Berry House Party Trainwreck Extravaganza went off the rails, forget soulmates and conduits, Mercedes began to think the entire concept of love was a sham. She decided to drink her cares away and was pleased that the more she drank, the gigglier she became. She and Tina sat off in their corner getting wasted on fruity booze, observing the shenanigans as Rachel sloppily organized a game of spin-the-bottle. She wasn’t bothered by Sam kissing Brittany (at the rate he was going he’d plow through all the New Directions girls by the end of his senior year, she predicted). And she was even amused by Rachel and Blaine’s makeout, at least until she saw Kurt’s face registering a mix of revulsion and resentment. Oh this was not good at all.

“What’s not good?” Sam appeared at her shoulder all of a sudden, his breath smelling of beer. Oh, she must have thought out loud.

Mercedes hiccupped. “Looking at Blaine and Rachel. That’s supposed to be Kurt sucking his face off, right? It’s not even a glow it’s like a, a shadow or something.” Mercedes couldn’t stay grounded enough to keep her train of thought going, though. “My buzz is wearing off,” she said. She passed her empty cup to Sam. “Top me off?”

The following week after the party was a consistent chase to stave off the hangover by continuing to drink. Starting with Artie’s “hair of the dog that bit your ass” Bloody Marys and ending with whatever the hell Rachel had concocted, Mercedes’ verdict was that she’d reached her maximum on booze for life.

------

What was this semester? Last week was all about booze, now it was gonna be all about sex? This was all Brittany and her stupid stork nest’s fault. To be honest, she was comfortable with the concept of sex, and embraced her own sexiness. But she was a good Christian girl, saving herself for marriage, or at least for the right man. She wasn’t about to join the celibacy club with Berry and Fabray or anything. She just didn’t feel the need to announce her business (or lack thereof) to the world. Besides, she liked romance. Probably why she had fallen misguidedly for Kurt that first year. Speaking of, her phone buzzed in her pocket as Miss Holliday’s “lesson” ended:

I need an emergency sleepover. Mercedes was confused about Kurt’s text until the next one: Blaine just tried to talk to me about sex.

After she managed to get her eyes back into her head, she texted back: I know exactly what both of us need; cookies and Hallmark movies.

As Kurt and Mercedes settled against the headboard, a plate of cookies and other sugary treats between them, Kurt pressed play on the DVD remote. “Is this the one where the guy is forced to work as a mall Santa after burning down the town’s Christmas tree with off-market lights and then teams up with the lonely caroler to save the children’s charity and they fall in love in the process?” Mercedes asked.

“No, it’s the one where the traditional Secret Santa exchange at the office Christmas party gets upended when the organizer gets pneumonia after a snowball fight and all the presents go missing.”

“Ooh, after this one we should watch the one where the ice skater bumps her head and loses her memories of Christmas until she falls in love with the holiday card writer and then wishes on an enchanted ornament.”

As Mercedes swapped one DVD for another, Kurt spoke: “You know, I’ve missed this.”

“Missed what?”

“You know, our kinship.” Kurt sighed. “I know we haven’t been as tight since I went to Dalton.”

“No, I get it,” Mercedes said. “We’ve been busy getting ready for Regionals too. Plus all those advanced private school classes you’re taking, and all your time with Blaine. Speaking of that?”

Kurt groaned into his pillow, “Mercedes do we have to?”

“Yes, we do, now why was Blaine talking to you about sex?”

“The tone of your voice is entirely too hopeful,” Kurt said. He then recounted the whole thing, from Sue’s intel dump at the Lima Bean, to the warehouse and his sexy faces, to the flustered quarrel ending in asking Blaine to leave.

When he was finished, Mercedes looked at him sympathetically. “Boo, I know you like hand-holding, romance, all of that. But be reasonable; you’re not totally naive, Kurt. And I’ve seen you make sexy faces and they didn’t look like gas pains. Remember us doing Madonna with the Cheerios last year? Or when you did 'Le Jazz Hot' on duet week?”

Kurt looked down. “Did I really look that sexy?”

“Kurt, you could have burnt the house down, don’t act like you didn’t know.” Mercedes got a smile out of him; good start. “You wanna know what I think? I think it’s not talking about sex you’re uncomfortable with. It was Blaine talking about sex.”

“Ugh, you’re right,” Kurt sighed. “When he said he’d tell me what he knew, I got all flustered, because what if what he knows is first-hand experience? And then I thought of him having that experience, and then me having that with him, and…” Kurt drifted off, then cleared his throat. “And that’s why it’s going to be so weird seeing him again at school.”

“Well at least you have prospects,” Mercedes said.

“Yes, and speaking of, Miss Jones, I saw you at Rachel’s party, sitting all by your lonesome. I had to look away from Blaine and Rachel’s ill-advised rendezvous. So still no one at McKinley is catching your eye?”

Mercedes suddenly had a flash image of Sam, his blond swoop fringing his blue eyes and his smile...what? No, hell no, hell to the no! ”Um, nope! No one at all. Okay next movie, I think this one is the one where the CEO of an ugly Christmas sweater company has to make amends with the mistletoe farmer...”

Kurt didn’t dig any further, thank goodness.

------

While Mercedes was once again listening to the latest way that Sue had managed to sabotage the club, she received a text from Kurt:

K: oh crap oh crap i’m so screwed.

M: What’s wrong?

K; I killed the bird.

M: WHAT

K: I mean I don’t think I murdered the bird, but we were doing scales this morning and he keeled over so I feel somewhat responsible

K: What am I going to do?

M: Can’t you just go to PetSmart and get a new one?

K: NO THEY’LL KNOW

M: Look Kurt birds don’t live forever, didn’t you say Pavarotti had been passed down as a Warbler tradition?

M: How old was he?

K: I don’t know. Oh god what will Blaine think? He’ll hate me for breaking some sacred Warbler creed.

M: No he won’t, calm down. He’ll understand. Just tell them the truth.

M: He probably had an undiagnosed heart flutter.

K: …

K: That’s not funny.

M: Come on it was a little.

K: That bird was entrusted to me. I felt a little like him. Like we bonded over...it’s hard to say

M: Being stuck in a cage?

K: Well…

M: Come on Kurt, I know you love Blaine and love being close to him at Dalton, but isn’t that blazer just a little stifling?

K: I guess.

M: Tell you what, why don’t you put on your best mourning clothes and sing in his honor? I’m sure the warblers would appreciate the gesture.

K: Thanks Mercedes. I was freaking out there.

M: Glad I could help.

------

The next couple of days were a lesson in disappointment. Santana’s “Trouty Mouth” had really upset Sam to the point that Mercedes wondered once again why he was dating her, especially when she was spending more and more time with Brittany. But she couldn’t let that interrupt her world debut of what would be a sure-fire hit at Regionals. She turned off her phone to focus her full attention on the song she wrote. She was very proud of “Hell to the No.” It spelled out all her frustrations with the world and what she was told she could or could not be. The other New Directions girls’ backing vocals were on point, and collaborating with the band on the sound part boosted her self-esteem. I can totally do this for a living; the best divas produce their own stuff. So when Schue said it just wasn’t quite right she was dejected. At least the writing session that followed was productive.

When Mercedes turned her phone back on, she had a missed call and three texts from Kurt, all of them saying CALL ME URGENT. Mercedes immediately called Kurt back as she walked out of the choir room. “Hey boo, is everything okay? I haven’t heard from you since the bird incident.”

“Everything is fine Mercedes. It’s great, it’s grand, it’s…’s wonderful, ‘s marvellous, that you should care for me…” Kurt began to sing a Gershwin tune.

“Hummel, what are you talking about? Or I guess I should ask what are you singing about?”

“Oh, nothing, just that Blaine asked me to duet with him for Regionals.”

“Kurt, that’s great! I mean let’s face it, I miss you here but at least Dalton’s giving you a chance to sing in a competition!”

“Mmm-hmm, oh yes, the duet, yeah…” Kurt still had that dreamy tone to his voice.

Mercedes was suspicious. “Kurt, is there something more you’re not telling me?”

“Well, Blaine came down to the common room while I was bedazzling Pavarotti’s casket.”

“You were what now?”

“Not important, Blaine was telling me about the song he chose, but then he started talking about having a moment about me, and wanting to spend more time with me, and…”

Kurt paused a little too long, stretching the anticipation to a snapping point until Mercedes nearly shouted into her phone, “Oh my God, speed it up, Kurt!”

“He kissed me! He kissed me, and I kissed him back, and we’ve basically been spending all afternoon kissing, and Mercedes it was just...everything I ever wanted in a kiss.”

Mercedes tried biting her fist to keep the scream down in her throat, but it came out as an excited squeak that turned heads in the hallway. “Mind ya business,” she said to the two Cheerios giving her a concerned stare. She turned away and quietly spoke into her phone. “Oh boo, I’m so happy for you! And if you ask me, it’s about time that boy did something. Now, tell me every detail.”

Once Mercedes got off the phone with Kurt (after he said he had to hang up because Blaine wanted to practice more that evening; ”Sure, Kurt, you best get on to your practice, just don’t let your practice go too far, okay?” she sent a text message to Sam, remembering a bet she made with him last semester:

M: Just talked to Kurt, Blaine finally got his head out of his butt...guess I owe you Breadstix.

Sam texted back ACHIEVEMENT!!!!! followed by five thumbs up and four heart eye emojis.

------

Next thing they knew, it was already time for Regionals. Mercedes had barely heard from Kurt except for texts gushing about Blaine (even more than when they had been just friends...except with the addition of what a great kisser he is). She caught a glimpse of Kurt at the venue, in the hallway between their dressing rooms. She noticed a faint glow around him, but thought it must just be the lighting. He hugged her before thrusting a bag into her hands.

“Kurt, what’s this?”

“Well Rachel let it slip that you guys were doing audience props, so the Warblers decided we needed to step up as well. Pass these out when they call us up!”

“Sure thing, boo. Good luck!”

The New Directions settled in their seats as the announcer spoke: “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Dalton Academy Warblers!”

“Here, take one and pass the rest down.” Mercedes passed the bundle over. “They’re prop battery-powered candles. We’re supposed to wave them after the bridge at the key change.”

As the Warblers began the song, Kurt stepped out from the group into the spotlight.

“The power lines went out, and I am all alone, but I don’t really care at all, not answering my phone.”

Mercedes was so proud of Kurt getting his first solo in a competition. Then Blaine moved down and began singing:

“All the games you played, the promises you made, couldn’t finish what you started, only darkness still remains…”

It didn’t matter that it was a breakup song. No one else could see what Mercedes was witnessing. As Kurt and Blaine’s voices harmonized, there was an incandescent glow surrounding each of them. When the two stepped closer to each other the glowing intensified and the light from each boy pulled toward the center, until the connection was complete and the couple was bathed in a golden light, like the way sunlight turns warmer and softer right before sunset. She remembered a photography blog calling it the “golden hour.” The only time she had ever seen a glow even close to it was at her aunt’s wedding. This was bigger; it overwhelmed them and their surroundings, until Mercedes could see only them, and she was sure for them, each other.

Suddenly Mercedes felt the warmth from the yearning of Kurt and Blaine’s glow deep in her chest; it radiated through her and she began to cry from the sheer joy of it. Rachel looked over at her. “Mercedes, are you okay?”

All she could do was nod and wait for the bridge.

“And someday, you will get back, everything you gave me…”

She and the rest of the audience turned on and raised their candles, waving them in the air as the boys completed their duet. Mercedes wondered just what everyone else saw; no battery-powered candle glow could have competed with her view. But then the lights went up and the Warblers went into their second number, a much more raucous P!nk song. The glow wasn’t as bright as during their duet, but Kurt and Blaine both still had a halo of light around them as they bounced with the rest of their choir to the choreography. She did get the pleasure of one last flare of light, as Blaine and Kurt hugged post-performance.

As the New Directions made their way to the backstage area to prepare, Sam pulled Mercedes aside. “Hey, I couldn’t help but look over during their duet and see you crying, but like, happy crying. You saw it, didn’t you? The Glow?”

Mercedes’s grin probably rivaled it. “Sam... it was beautiful.”

#GPBB Drabble December #klaine advent 2019 #ALL THE WORDS #Reaching Out to Touch a Stranger #Samcedes fic #Klaine fic

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notarelationship · 4 years ago

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Anderson’s Ghosts 24/24

Klaine Advent: Yearn

And here it is! The last of my Klaine Advent 2019 chapters. Just in time to start thinking about 2020!

Thank you everyone for reading. I’ll be posing the last few chapters on AO3 as the final chapter there, link to the beginning is here

If you have missed any earlier entries they can be found at Anderson’s Ghosts, or each individual chapter: Achievement, Beer, Creed, Date, Emergency, Fist, Ground, Hiccup, Interrupt, Joy, Kinship, Lecture, Monument, Nest, Overwhelm, Part, Quarrel, Reasonable, Speed, Treat, User, Verdict, Worry

Lunch was a bit awkward. Blaine barely knew how to behave with his own family, let alone someone else's, but when Kurt invited him he couldn’t say no.

“Is your family still in Lima, Blaine?” Carol asked, once they were all settled around the dining table.

Blaine cleared his throat. “Well, my brother is here, but our mother moved to Florida years ago, and she doesn’t come back to Ohio.” He didn’t add that he hadn’t actually seen her in years.

“You don’t see them for the holidays?”

Blaine hadn’t spent holidays with his family in years, but he was sure if he said that in front of this crowd there would be a mixture of sympathy, pity, and for those who knew him better, maybe a bit of private scorn. He didn’t deserve anything but the scorn.

“Nah, Blaine usually works on Christmas,” Sam answered for him.

“You work on Christmas?” Kurt asked, while helping himself to some delicious looking potato casserole. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

Blaine winced. “It’s not.” He paused as Sam handed him a plate of ham, and he took a slice and passed it on. “But I think those days are over. I’m headed over to my brother’s later tonight, and I’m actually leaving for New York in the morning.”

“Oh really? I live in New York,” Kurt said. “What are you going to do there?”

Blaine laughed quietly. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”

From there conversation spread around the table, and Blaine could sit quietly and just soak it in. Watching Kurt, it was hard not to yearn for the life he never had, but Blaine didn’t want to mope about it. He had already changed. He may never have an opportunity again to really get to know Kurt, but he was on the road to setting things right, and he could settle for that for now.

After lunch was over Blaine followed Sam and Mercedes to the family room, where the kids went right back to playing with their Christmas gifts. Burt joined them while Carol and Kurt cleared the table.

“Anderson,” Burt said, once he was sitting comfortably in what was obviously his favorite chair. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Blaine answered, sitting on the couch, but near enough to Burt for them to have a quiet conversation. He had a feeling he knew what was coming. That was okay. Blaine wanted to talk.

Burt shrugged. “Two weeks ago I was sure you were going to take my business. Your reputation is not unknown to me, Anderson. I knew if you wanted the shop I wouldn't be able to stop you.”

Blaine took a centering breath. The further away he got from the night before, the more everything that had happened had felt like a dream. It may even have been a dream. But it didn’t matter. He was done with that life. “I didn’t want that any more.”

“What? The money? The business?”

Blaine shook his head, not sure how much to share. But there was something about Burt that made it easier. “It wasn’t my life. I want my life, and I think - I hope - I’m still young enough to have it.”

Burt considered him a while, studying Blaine. To his credit (Blaine hoped) he managed to hold Burt Hummel’s curious gaze. “Well,” Burt said with a chuckle. “You’re certainly young enough to do anything you want. And since I suspect money isn’t going to be a concern, I hope you choose what you want wisely.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said. “I hope I do as well. Do you mind - can I ask you a question?” When Burt nodded, Blaine continued. “Are you feeling better?”

Burt grunted, but not in an unkind way. “I am feeling better, thank you.” Kurt appeared then, standing next to Burt’s chair.

“Yes but you still have a lot of recovering to do,” Kurt said.

Burt frowned. Ignoring Kurt, he spoke directly to Blaine, “Apparently I still have a lot of recovering to do.” He thumbed over his shoulder at Kurt.

“Yes, and I’m going to be here for a while making sure you do just that,” Kurt answered anyway. Blaine smiled, watching their banter. He remembered back to when they were in school together, that Kurt had always said he’d had a great dad. Blaine excused himself as they continued to argue playfully over Burt’s condition, and found himself standing in front of the Christmas tree.

Every year when he was little, Blaine wanted to decorate the Christmas tree, but his parents had other ideas. His father always wanted a more utilitarian tree, few decorations, all the same color. His one allowance he gave Blaine’s mother was that she could pick the color, so every year the tree was decorated a different color. Silver one year, red the next, green the next, every ornament precisely placed for the perfect magazine photo holiday spread.

But the Hummel’s tree was covered in a jumble of mis-matched, obviously well loved ornaments of all shapes, sizes, and types. There were vintage glass bulbs, tiny wooden Santa heads, and homemade felt circles that looked like something Blaine had a vague memory of making himself in kindergarten. There was a palm sized Millennium Falcon that blinked, a glass ball with the Ohio State University logo on it, and green construction paper trees shedding glitter all over. Blaine smiled as he looked at them all, taking in every ornament and imagining its history.

He was laughing at a green glass pickle when he saw it. A palm sized nest with two yellow canaries perched on either side. Three small, aqua, realistic looking canary eggs settled in the center of the nest. Blaine swallowed. It couldn’t be possible. It was identical to the ornament on the tree at the hospital. The one the mysterious little girl led him to last night.

“It’s a mess, I know.” Kurt appeared next to him, and Blaine startled.

“No, it’s beautiful,” Blaine said, staring at the ornament. He looked at Kurt. His mouth was parted as if he was going to say something else, but Blaine had to know. He pointed to the nest. “Where is this from?”

“Oh, my gosh,” Kurt said. “It was my mother’s. I think she had it from when she was a little girl. I’m always surprised when it comes out of the box and it’s still in one piece.”

Blaine wanted to shout or scream or anything, it was too much. Of course it was possible that there could be two of them, but to Blaine, it was the final confirmation. Whatever he had experienced, It had been real. And it had led him back to Kurt. He was supposed to be here.

“So I’m going to be in Lima probably for another month,” Kurt was talking, and Blaine had to refocus his attention to get all the words. “But when I’m back in New York, would you like to get together for a drink, or dinner or something? Catch up?” Kurt was smiling at him, inviting him to dinner?

“Yes,” Blaine managed to say. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”

the end

#klaine advent: yearn #klaine advent: 2019 #Anderson's Ghosts #klaine advent

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hazelandglasz · 5 years ago

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Klaine Advent 2019: Day 15

Overwhelm

Blaine has seen Kurt in action many times now. As a foe, as a team mate, as a friend even.

And yet, seeing him performing so well on the VocAdrs nest, it …

It overwhelms him.

The Black Birds seem to bend to Kurt’s will, charmed by his voice and mesmerized by the trinkets Kurt has left behind them on the way.

And though they are vicious in their approach, they keep focused on their matings whenever Kurt mimics their songs.

Blaine mechanically follows Kurt, but his mind is too busy trying to calm his heart to think about it all.

“What did I tell you?” Kurt says, his beaming smile more radiant than the Sun. “I knew I was right.”

“You were,” Blaine says softly, hiding his face in one of the vaults they have to empty now in the hopes that his feelings--not new, now that he thinks about it, they have been here for a while if he’s honest--that they are not too obviously etched across his face.

Now, he really needs an occasion to tell Kurt about them, away from the prying ears of their crews …

“I’ll let you plan the abordage on the Pavarotti, then.”

Kurt groans, but from the corner of his eye, Blaine can see him still smiling.

#klaine advent 2019 #sometimes i write #klaine au #space pirates au #fluff

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forabeatofadrum · 4 years ago

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Myosotis series MASTERPOST

Masterpost for my Klaine Advent 2019 story.

Yes, I am posting this in end 2020. Full series on AO3 here, on S&C here, and the Tumblr tag (including extras) here.

Myosotis sylvatica

Summary: Kurt remembers meeting Blaine very vividly. After all, they only just met. Blaine also remembers meeting Kurt very vividly, but to him, it's been years since they met. Now, the two of them have to find ways to (re)connect and see where their relationship goes.

Rating: T

Words: ~73K

AO3 | S&C | Tumblr:

Achievement

Beer

Creed

Date

Emergency

Fist

Ground

Hiccup

Interrupt

Joy

Kinship

Lecture

Maximum

Nest

Overwhelm

Part

Quarrel

Reasonable

Speed

Treat

User

Verdict

Worry

Yearn

Myosotis discolor

Summary: When your world burns to the ground and crashes down, you sometimes have to laugh. Burt Hummel would know. After all, he’s been there before. You’d think that third time’s the charm.

Rating: PG-13

Words: 883

AO3 | S&C | Tumblr.

Myosotis scorpioides

Summary: Kurt posts a Firmspring post about what happened to him. He knew that people were going to read it. After all, that was the point of creating that post. Three people who read it are Blaine’s mother, brother and father.

Rating: PG-13

Words: 4071

AO3 | S&C | Tumblr:

Pam Sotto

Cooper Anderson

John Anderson

Myosotis ramosissima

Summary: Sometimes, Kurt dreams that this is all a dream. He dreams that he goes to bed to block out Rachel and Santana’s fighting and that he wakes up the day after in 2012.

Rating: T

Words: 3976

AO3 | S&C | Tumblr.

Myosotis verna

Summary: Kurt and Blaine met in the spring of 2017 and to Blaine, it was love at first sight. Unfortunately for him, Kurt was dating Adam Crawford.They fall in love anyway.

This is the first time they fell in love.

Rating: T

Words: ~30K

AO3 | S&C | Tumblr:

Blaine

Kurt

Adam and Blaine

Kurt

Adam and Blaine

Kurt

Extra’s:

Ramblings about advertisements

More about Michelle Anderson

Timeline of Myosotis sylvatica

Myosotis verna chapter 4 seating chart

Adam between 2019 - 2021

Timeline of Myosotis verna

Kurt and Blaine’s looks in 2027/2028

Joke playlist

Actual playlist

My art

There are also some memes and they can be found in my general “dank memes about my fics” tag

#i might *MIGHT* write one last little thing #but that will be added when it's written #anyway i am not going to write it now cause yknow the new advent is here #klaine advent 2019 #klaine #masterpost

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 5 years ago

Link

Chapters: 14/24 Fandom: Glee Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel Additional Tags: Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2019, Christmas, Fluff Summary:

Here are my stories for the 2019 Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge. Merry Klainemas, everyone!

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #KLaine advent 2019

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wowbright · 4 years ago

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Fic: Love at Home

Klaine Advent 2020: possible

Words: ~3700 words (what the hay?)

Summary: Kurt’s CTR ring is broken. Blaine has a solution. It requires subterfuge. (Plus, a visit with some recent converts.)

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: UST/unresolved romantic tension

Another vignette from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2020. The two long fics from that universe are on ao3: Small Things, about Kurt growing up Mormon, and A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, about the first day of Kurt and Blaine working/living together as missionary companions (co-missionaries) in Germany. Here are my Klaine Advent 2020 posts.

This vignette takes place well into their mission together, sometime around Lead, Kindly Light and directly after Rings and Things and Sweet Is the Taste.

Notes: This will make a lot more sense if you read Rings and Things and Sweet is the Taste first. “Brüder” means “brother” and “Schwester” means “sister,” and commonly replace Herr/Schwester/Mr./Ms. among church members. Title from the hymn Love at Home. Props if you figure out who Liesl Steffen is from Glee.

If you have any questions about cultural and religious references (or corrections on my German!), feel free to use my ask box!

--------

Blaine woke up with an image in his head, so perfect that he knew it must be from the Holy Ghost. He couldn't have thought of anything like this on his own. He’d tried to, last night, before falling asleep, getting only as far as what it would say on the inside of the ring. The Tree of Life had to be on the outside, but Blaine could only figure out how it might work on a signet ring, and signet rings didn’t work for the other detail Blaine had in mind.

“Do you mind if I use the bathroom first?” Kurt said, smacking their blaring alarm into silence.

“Please do. I need to …” Blaine rolled out of bed and grabbed his journal from the nightstand. “I want to get something down before it fades.”

“Inspiring dream last night?”

“Something like that.”

Kurt smoothed his blankets into place, tucking the edges under the mattress, then folded his sleep mask into his top dresser drawer before plodding off to the bathroom.

Blaine opened to a page of his journal that was blank on both sides. He would need to tear it out to take with him later.

He wasn't sure what a spinner ring was called in German, so he drew a bird’s view diagram of two circles, one nested within the other, and arrows that showed their movement in opposite directions.

Then he drew the design for the outer ring. He would represent the Tree of Life with a single branch winding around the ring’s surface, small fruits hanging from smaller branches that grew at angles. The main branch formed a complete circle around the ring, with no end and no beginning. The tree gave life, but it also promised eternity.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Kurt was back, his hair neatly combed and a T-shirt and running shorts on in place of his pajamas.

“I still need a few minutes,” Blaine said, lingering too long on the extra two inches of leg he got to see when Kurt was in his running shorts versus his garments. Why was he so intrigued by Kurt’s legs, anyway? It wasn’t like he was planning to carve a marble statue with Kurt as the model and needed to memorize every detail.

On the other hand, Blaine had a deep appreciation for art. And the Lord was the ultimate sculptor. His creation exceeded the work of even Michelangelo. And that included Kurt. Appreciating the beauty of creation and all within it—that was part and parcel of being a Saint.

“Okay, but don't take too long,” Kurt interrupted his thoughts. “I don’t want to do my entire workout in the living room. It’s gorgeous outside today.”

Blaine was ready to protest that they didn’t need to go for a run because they’d be on their bikes all day, but then he glanced toward the window. The sky was blue already, and the buildings gave off a sort of of glow that only came early on a clear morning. Kurt was right. It was stunning. “I’ll hurry up.”

Blaine jotted down the inscription for the inside of the ring and closed the journal.

The Wörles had invited them for lunch. They’d been attending church regularly since Easter, and it was time for their son, who was 12, to be ordained to the Aaronic priesthood. It was past time for Brüder Wörle for both the Aaronic and the Melchizedek priesthood, but since he’d only quit drinking beer a few weeks ago, the branch president wanted to him to prepare for a little longer.

The Wörles set out wurst and sauerkraut and near-beer and a bunch of other things Blaine had thought were disgusting when he first came to Germany, but now thought were delicious. Brüder Wörle was very proud of the near beer and went on and on about how many kinds he’d found in the beer market beneath the branch meeting space. Blaine decided not to ask him if he shopped for them on a Sunday—it was best to fight just one battle at a time. Let Brüder Wörle enjoy the success of breaking away from alcohol before asking him to be stricter in his observance of the Sabbath. Heck, the fact that they were actually attending church at all was a pretty huge victory.

The kids were excited to have the missionaries over and kept taking selfies with them. Blaine dropped his non-alcoholic Hefe Weißbier to the table every time one of them came over. The last thing he needed out in the world was a photo of him drinking the white foam off a beer mug. Next to a kid, no less. If his dad saw it? It wouldn’t matter that the beer was non-alcoholic. He’d get a lecture about appearances, he was sure. And maybe, just maybe his dad would finally bend after Blaine explained that the mission president had told them to just drink it if a member offered it to them. Near-beer was like Coke—some members might swear up and down that drinking it was a violation of the Word of Wisdom, but the prophets had never said so. Near-beer wasn't strong drink, and Coke wasn't coffee or tea. Man did not need to imagine laws where Heavenly Father had created none.

Though that argument might not work with Blaine’s dad, who didn’t drink Coke either.

��So what lesson do you have for us today?” asked Schwester Wörle as most of the party moved to the living room while Brüder Wörle cleared the table. She brought with her a tray of chocolate cookies and a huge pot of barley coffee.

“We wanted to talk about the blessing of the priesthood in our lives and homes.”

Eugen, the 12-year-old, bounced on the couch. “That’s me! This lesson is about me!”

Elder Hummel did not look amused. Blaine could see him struggling not to furrow his eyebrows at the boy. “That will be you, yes. But the lesson is not about you. It is about your family. Priesthood is about service. It does not put you at the center.”

Eugen looked unfazed. “I suppose. But I will be able to pass out the sacrament, right?”

“As long as you remember that doing so is a privilege.”

“I will try.”

Kurt’s expression softened a little. “Good. And remember that there are two priesthoods, the Aaronic and the Melchizedek priesthoods. Each brings its own responsibilities.”

“Is that what my father will be? A priest of Melchizedek? And then he can give us blessings when we are sick? Ute—” Eugen tapped his 7-year-old sister on the head “— had a cold last week and Brother Keller came over to give her a blessing and she felt better. Didn’t you, Ute?”

“Yes, that and the chamomile from Mama,” she said seriously.

“That would be wonderful if your father became a priest of Melchizedek. But that’s up to him. Whatever happens, you still have his love, which is the most important thing. And if you want a priesthood blessing in particular, there are lots of people who can give you that.”

Blaine watched the interaction with admiration. Kurt, as Elder Hummel, was so good at navigating delicate situations. Throughout his mission, Blaine had so often felt like he was going into people's homes like a bull in a China shop, overthrowing their old lives but not always replacing it with something new and better. Converts left their old faith, their old comforts like coffee and tea and going to the movies on Sundays, their live-in partners who didn’t want to convert with them. And then, just as often as not, they slipped out of the church within months of joining. Their lives were overturned, and for what?

The Wörles had lasted longer, but their commitment was still tenuous. Like much of the Ingolstadt branch, they had a lot of work to do before they could go to the temple and Brüder Wörle receive the Melchizedek priesthood. The role of the missionaries was to encourage them to progress in their faith. But there was a fine line between encouraging a family and robbing them of hope should they not reach their goals. How many times had he, in previous companionships, implied that true happiness was possible only for families who went to the temple and had a righteous priesthood holder in their midst?

Perhaps it was sin to emphasize progression over love.

Schwester Wörle poured the barley coffee into little teacups and passed it around. “I found this stuff at the grocery store. I guess it used to be very popular in East Germany, when it was East Germany. Roasted barley, beetroot, and a little dandelion. It’s not terrible, especially when you add cream.”

Blaine did think it was terrible—bitter and swampy and a bit like burnt toast—but he didn’t say so. The acting tips Cooper peppered him with in every letter came in handy when he needed to disguise his reactions to unfamiliar foods.

Fortunately, Blaine didn't have to drink much of it. Brüder Wörle joined them, so they could start the lesson. “Of all the places in the world,” Blaine began, “only the home is as sacred as the temple ...”

“I’m a bit in awe of how you handled Eugen,” Blaine said as they pedaled side-by-side through Klenzepark on the way back to the apartment.

Kurt cocked his head toward Blaine without looking straight at him, keeping his eyes on the path. “Really? Because I felt a little impatient with him.”

“You mean when he said the lesson was all about him? I caught that, but I don't think he did. And even if you felt impatient, you were patient. I don't know if I could do that.”

“Of course you could, Blaine.”

Blaine felt the warmth that always spread through him when Kurt used his first name. “Sometimes when we're doing discussions with people, I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope. On one hand, I want them to know how awesome the gospel is. On the other hand, I don't want to set them up for failure. Sometimes I feel like I'm doing that. Like, if I had given that lesson on my own, I probably would have told them that having the priesthood in your home is essential to receiving all the blessings of the gospel and ended it with that—no nuance, no message for people who can’t have it. Because that's what I've been taught my whole life. And I want people to move toward that, but … not everyone does in this life. And if Brüder Wörle starts drinking again, I don't want his family to feel like he's a failure, like their family’s a failure. Like they might as well give up on Christ because they can’t live up to gospel standards. Because they’re not failures. It’s clear that they love each other, that the kids feel secure with their parents. It’s a good home. And the way you teach—God's love is always at the center. I love that about you.”

Kurt didn’t say anything for a few moments. They passed the water fountain and kids playing and trees in blossom—Blaine wished he knew what kind of trees they were, because they smelled like the sunshine that surrounded them.

“I guess it’s because I never exactly felt like we fit into the standards either. We had the priesthood in our home, but it was just me and my dad, not a ‘real’ family. I felt like people in the ward felt more sorry over me losing my mom than they would have if my father had died. They thought mothers are the only ones who really know how to love. Which is ironic, because my dad loves me so much. And if I had the choice between his love and a priesthood blessing with just a little less love—I’d take that love over his priesthood blessing any day. Deep down, I think all members know that love is the most important thing in a home, not the priesthood. Or I wouldn’t have gotten so much pity over losing my mom.”

Blaine thought about his own home. He wished he'd felt that kind of love from his father. Intellectually, he knew that his father loved him. But as long as Blaine could remember, he’d been gone most nights of the week for meetings—as a first councilor, as a bishop, as a stake president, as a general authority. His was a two-parent family on family home evenings. The rest of the time, it was Blaine and his mom and maybe Cooper, with this guy who stopped in sometimes for dinner and prayer and a very occasional vacation. His dad had, by example, shown him that the priesthood was more important than family.

Blaine didn’t want to make the same mistake in his own life. He loved the church. But love itself was more important.

They stopped at Steffen und Töchter, the jewelry store on Ludwigstraße, with Kurt’s CTR ring. An older blonde lady at the counter told them it was worth less than it would cost to fully repair.

“What about just taking out this bend on the inside?” Kurt asked, pointing to the burr that had rubbed a pink spot on his finger the day before.

She quoted a price that was more acceptable to Kurt and said she could have it ready in an hour.

“Are you okay hanging around?” Kurt asked Blaine.

“Sure. We can go to the gelateria next door.”

“I’ll never say ‘no’ to gelato.”

As Kurt made arrangements with the jeweler, Blaine slipped his wallet out of his pocket and kicked it under the counter. No one noticed a thing.

At the gelateria, Blaine let Kurt order and pay first. It was part of the plan. You can't go into a jewelry store with an ice cream cone.

“Oh, no,” Blaine said, patting his pocket and hoping with all his might that the acting tips in Cooper’s letters would pay off this time, too. “My wallet isn’t in my pocket.”

“It's probably in your backpack,” Kurt said, nonplused.

“No. I remember having it in my pocket when we were in the jewelry store. I took it out and … Ugh. I must have left it in there.”

“Why did you take your wallet out?”

Blaine couldn't say I don't know, because that would have been a lie. “I guess I get a little fidgety sometimes too.” Blaine took a deep breath, trying to channel the despair and panic he should be feeling at this moment. “Do you mind if I go back to get it now? I mean, I know we’re not supposed to leave each other by ourselves, but you have your gelato and I want you to enjoy it, and if I wait until you're done, well—the sooner I find it, the better, you know?”

“I trust you, Blaine. Technically, you’ll still be within 50 meters of me, anyway.” Kurt winked conspiratorially. “Just don’t tell Elder Clarington.”

Blaine felt himself blush as he squeezed Kurt’s arm in gratitude. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“I don't have much time,” Blaine said as he pulled the journal page from his pocket and unfolded it on the counter. “It's a surprise for my friend. I have to be finished by the time he’s done with his gelato.” He pointed through the front windows at Kurt, who was sitting on a bench in the middle of the plaza, watching passersby and licking his ice cream cone in a way that made Blaine’s mouth water.

“How much does he have left to eat?” the blonde woman asked.

“Most of a cone.”

“I'll try my best. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to know if you can make this ring for me. Or if you have one like it already that you can engrave? See? There's two parts of it, and the outer part spins.”

“Oh, of course. I’ve seen those before. Not a usual request, but it can be done.”

“And this is the design I want on the outside. Can you do something like that?”

“It's very custom. Not cheap. I could resize it and make it into a template.”

“It’s okay if it’s not cheap. And it doesn't have to be exactly the same. The important thing is that there's one central tree branch going around in a circle, with no beginning or ending. And the little fruits. Is it possible to fit all that?”

“On a wider band.”

“Perfect. And this is what I want on the inside.” Blaine pointed to the inscription he'd written underneath his drawing. It included two words and the acronyms CTR, for Choose the Right, and WDR, for its German equivalent, Wähle das Recht.

“OK, so let me make sure I am reading this right.” She wrote down the two words, and then CTA and WDH.

“No, no, it’s—”

“Oh, I see. Sorry, I'm not used to American penmanship.”

Blaine tried not to deflate at the recognition that he was American. Most Mormon missionaries were. It wasn't necessarily his accent.

She rewrote the transcription with CTH and WDA.

“No, no. C-T-R and W-D-R.”

“R? But your last name is Anderson.” She pointed at Blaine's missionary name tag. “And your friend’s is Hummel.”

Blaine didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't sure what their last names had to do with anything.

She got that tone that Germans have when they are explaining the obvious. “These are your initials, no? For your sweetheart ring?”

Oh. Oh. “It's not a sweetheart ring. That branch—that’s a religious symbol. From a parable.”

A smile spread across the woman's face. “Oh, a wedding ring. Congratulations! I had no idea your church was so progressive. Not like the Catholics. We keep trying to get-same sex marriage here in Germany, but the church pushes back. So it's a registered life partnership for my wife and I. But I understand it is legal in some parts of the United States?”

“No, it’s not … I mean, yes, it's legal in some places but ... No, we’re not a couple. We’re friends.”

“Ach. My mistake.” But she did not look convinced. “I thought you meant ‘friend’ as in ‘sweetheart.’”

The mistake was understandable, linguistically speaking. The word for friend and boyfriend in German was one in the same. But still … “Why?”

“‘Why’ is a big question,” she said. “Aren't you in a hurry?”

“Yes, but …” Blaine looked over his shoulder out the window. Kurt was still not halfway through with his ice cream cone. “I am in a hurry. But I have time.”

“Well, then. But you must not get offended. I only tell you what I see.”

“I won’t.”

She leaned forward on the counter. Her words were soft and unhurried. “The way you look at him. Like he is ... I don't know, a Mozart symphony. Or the Alps at sunset. But more than even that. Like my wife looks at me. How I feel when I look at her. You seem vernarrt with him.”

“Vernarrt? I don't know that word.”

“You should learn it. It’s a good one. I’ll write it down for you.” She tore off blank corner of the page, wrote vernarrt on it, and handed it to Blaine. And then, as if she hadn't just made a bold proclamation to a more or less complete stranger, she began writing up the ring specifications, peppering Blaine with questions like “Which metal?” and “When do you need it?” She ran up an estimate just as Kurt, still on the bench, popped the end of his gelato cone in his mouth.

“That doesn’t sound right,” Blaine said when she gave him the price. “Did you miss something? I thought it would cost more.”

She shrugged. “Life is full of surprises.”

“Well, here, at least let me give you a down payment. And when it’s ready— Ach! I didn't think that far. How am I going to sneak in here again?”

“I can mail it.”

Blaine looked over his shoulder. Kurt was meandering toward the store.

“I don't have enough time to give you my address. And he might see it anyway. Here. Here’s my phone number. He might answer. Pretend you’re interested in the church. If you don't mind.” Blaine darted over to the spot under the counter where he’d kicked his wallet, retrieved it, and handed her a fistful of bills.

“Why was your wallet…?”

“I needed a reason to come back here. Alone.” Blaine shoved the wallet in his pocket.

A bell rang cheerfully as the door opened. “Did you find it?”

The jeweler, God bless her, managed to make the money magically disappear into some hidden nook before Kurt looked over at her.

“Yes, finally.” Blaine’s heart was pounding from the adrenaline and subterfuge, and then there had been that entire misunderstanding that he hadn't processed yet, and didn't quite know how to. He wasn't convinced that Cooper's acting tips could save him from this situation. “Under the counter, of all places.”

“That's weird.”

“Yes. Isn’t it funny though?” the jeweler said. “But Elder Anderson and I had a very nice conversation while he was looking for it.”

“Oh?” said Kurt. “What about?”

“You know, Germany, Catholicism, your religion, German words. I'm Liesl, by the way. Liesl Steffen.” She reached her hand across the counter to shake Kurt’s.

“Like Steffen und Töchter.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you the Steffen, or a daughter?”

“Daughter. The original Steffen is retired in Mallorca.” She paused. “Anyway, your friend said some very interesting things. Perhaps we should meet again and you can tell me more about your religion. I don't really understand the differences between all these new evangelical groups, and I like to learn.”

Kurt’s eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful.”

“Good then. Here’s my cell phone number.” Liesl wrote on one of her own pieces of paper this time. “You know, your ring might be done already. Let me check.”

She disappeared into the backroom and came back out with Kurt’s CTR ring. It was still pretty mangled on the outside, but it slid on smoothly.

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: possible #klaine fic #klaine #mormon!klaine #my klaine advent 2020 #my fic

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alilactree · 7 years ago

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Humbug!

Klaine Advent: Stir

(Jumping in a little late, don’t mind me. Based on the summary of a cheesy holiday movie that I’ve never seen. Also, omg I’m writing Klaine fic?!)

Following years of bit parts and near-misses, aspiring New York actor Blaine Anderson is about to throw in the towel and move to Chicago to take a real job when he auditions for the lead in a new production of A Christmas Carol. He nails the part and finds unexpected romance with his director, TV star Kurt Hummel. But when the historic theater loses its lease and the show is set to fold before it even opens, Blaine and his cast mates find themselves in need of a Christmas miracle.

He nailed it. Blaine leaves the stage exuberant, certain that he gave his best out there, his entire heart and soul belted out to the audience of two; emotions were stirred, notes were hit, lines delivered flawlessly. And whether or not he gets the part, he’s pleased.

God he hopes he gets the part. No, hope is not a strong enough word. He needs this part. This part is his last chance, the final fraying string that he’s desperately clinging to. If he doesn’t get it, he’s— He has to get this part.

It’s been a long dry spell of background and one-line and no-line bit parts, lucky to get chorus member number twelve. His brother has been on him to give up on acting like he did and join the family business, but Blaine just knows his big break is right around the corner. Of course, he’s been saying that for years now. He may well be out of corners.

The theater is older and small, with that distinctive musty old theater aesthetic of dark velvet curtains and dark green carpets, a scuffed black stage, creaky wooden seats, and a maze of darkness backstage leading on to more darkness. Blaine takes a wrong turn in finding the exit and ends up in a narrow hallway in the very back of the building that’s become a graveyard of old props and busted lights and has definitely also become the de facto smoke break spot. Blaine wrinkles his nose, turning to retrace his steps and figure out where he went wrong, when he overhears the director and assistant director in one of the offices. Someone says his name.

“What about Blaine Anderson?”

He should not be listening to this. Blaine presses his lips flat, hesitates, then ducks behind what appears to be the styrofoam crow’s nest of a fake pirate ship to listen.

The AD, Rachel, says, “As Scrooge? No way. Too young. Too boy next door.” Blaine’s heart drops into his stomach. But he has an advocate: Kurt Hummel, director, former TV star, just so happens to be gorgeous and talented and wears the hell out of a cravat. Kurt tuts. “You lack imagination, Rachel. Think about his range, his emotional resonance. Forget about what he looks like.”

Blaine bites down on a smile. That’s exactly why he went for the role of Scrooge in the first place instead Bob Cratchit or Fred, or a safer bet like one of the carolers. More than just a cranky old man, Scrooge is the emotional core of the show and the audience needs to find Scrooge captivating in order go along on his journey. Blaine can do that. Plus, his songs are the best ones.

“I think the problem is that you can’t forget what he looks like,” the AD huffs.

“Excuse me?” Kurt says, his voice jumping high. Blaine’s heart goes with it. “Are you implying that I am being unprofessional in my casting, Rachel Berry?”

“Kurt,” Rachel says, in a placating tone, likely realizing she’s heading down a dangerous path. “You rely on me to advocate for the audience while you bring your brilliant vision to life. And I am telling you, no audience will believe Blaine Anderson as Ebenezer Scrooge.”

Shoulders slumped, heart plummeting down somewhere below ground, Blaine slips out from behind the pirate ship prop and makes his way back out to the stage. The stage he’ll apparently never perform on. He manages to find the exit this time, pushing the heavy metal door out onto a bright afternoon, of New York City covered in fluffy white snow and festively decked out for the holidays. It’s his favorite time of year here, usually, but today the winter wind just feels stinging and bitter, the Christmas cheer hollow and cheap. If I can make it there… Blaine laughs, rueful. He can’t, as it turns out. He can’t make it here. It’s finally time for him to get serious, join the family real estate business, and put this little acting experiment behind him.

He’ll call Cooper tonight.

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: stir #klaine fic #my fic #lilac writes #to be continued #dun dun dun #humbug!

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littlej097 · 7 years ago

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Klaine Advent - Key

Summary: Handing the car key over to your teenager is never an easy thing to do and it was something that Kurt and Blaine definitely weren’t ready for.

“Guys, I’m fine. I really am.” Kurt told his family. “You can stop fussing over me.” Blaine had just gotten his husband situated on the couch. During a wild family dance party, Kurt had jumped off the couch, landed wrong on his right ankle and had promptly broken it. After a trip to the nearest emergent care center, an x-ray and a big bulky cast placement, the family was finally home.

“Kurt, can you just let us take care of you for once?” Blaine asked.

“It barely hurts.” Kurt told them. “Plus, I have things I need to get done. It’s a school night. Lunches have to be packed. Lucy needs to get a bath. Andrew needs help with his english homework…” he continued to ramble off stuff. It would have been a little easier to handle, but Penny was off at college and couldn’t lend a hand.

“I can make lunches.” Charlie offered.

“Yeah and I can help Andrew with english.” Caleb added.

“I suppose I can give this one a bath.” Blaine replied as he picked Lucy up by her belly and flipped her upside down. She giggled and kicked her feet.

“Daddy! Put me down!” she screech through giggles.

“That takes care of tonight, but who is going to drive the kids to school tomorrow? Blaine, you have an meeting at the theater tomorrow.”

“I can do it!” Charlie immediately exclaimed. Instantly, Kurt and Blaine watched their other three children groan in protest. “What? I have my license. I can do it.”

“Papa, if you value any of our lives, you will not let her drive us.” Andrew pleaded. Kurt looked over at Blaine. They were kind of out of options. Caleb didn’t yet have his license. He wasn’t in a hurry to flee the nest, like his sister was. He took a little longer to practice and hadn’t taken his official drivers test yet.

“We kind of don’t have any other option.” Kurt told his children. “Charlie, my car key is on the counter in the kitchen.”

“Yes! Thanks Papa!” Charlie said before racing off into the kitchen. She came back a few seconds later with the key in her hand a huge smile on her face. “Charlotte Rose, I want you to look at me.” Charlie looked at her father. “You are carrying the most precious cargo in both mine and your father’s life. Do not do anything to damage it.”

“And by that, he means don’t scratch his car.” Blaine replied sarcastically.

“Blaine! I meant the children.” Kurt retorted.

“And now I take my leave. I shall also take this one.” he added before picking Lucy up and then running her towards the bathroom.

“Well, we should go do that english homework.” Caleb said as he put a hand on his brother’s back.

“Why? We’re gonna die before we even get to the school tomorrow.” Andrew said.

“Just in case there’s a miracle.” Caleb laughed.

“This is ridiculous! I’m a good driver!” Charlie exclaimed. “I’m the one who actually passed my test.”

“And I’m sure the crying that you did when you hit a cone parallel parking didn’t have anything to do with that.” Caleb retorted.

“Shut up! It was a stressful time!” Charlie yelled at her brother before storming off to her room. Then, Kurt was left on his own. Surprisingly, it was almost peaceful. It was quiet and he had total control over the tv remote. He didn’t have to make lunches or run bath water. He turned on the tv and found an episode of Project Runway. Maybe this broken ankle wouldn’t be that bad....

The next morning, Blaine helped Kurt hobble back into the living room and got him set up with the tv remote, his sketchbooks, a drink and his laptop. “If you need anything, feel free to call me.”

“Blaine, I have a broken ankle. I’m not crippled.” Kurt replied. “It’s not like I’ve never been on crutches before.”

“I know. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Blaine replied.

“And that is why I love you so much.” Kurt replied as he motioned for his husband to come over. He grabbed Blaine’s bowtie and pulled him close enough to press a quick peck to his lips. “Now get going! Jerry at the theater isn’t going to wait all day.” he added with a quick slap to Blaine’s butt.

“Geez, those painkillers are making you a little frisky.” Blaine replied. Kurt gave him a wink and Blaine laughed before he left. Soon enough all four of the remaining Anderson-Hummel children filtered into the kitchen to eat breakfast before school. Caleb came in first and grabbed a pack of poptarts.

“Glad to see your picking something healthy for breakfast Caleb.” Kurt said from the living room.

“Oh, you know me Papa. Always the health nut.” he replied as he took another bite of his smores poptarts. Lucy came in next. She had her favorite stuffed lamb in her arms.

“Here Papa, you can have lamby for the day. She can keep you company.” Lucy told him as she extended the white stuffed lamb to her father.

“Oh honey, that’s so thoughtful.” Kurt said as he pulled his daughter in for a kiss. “Now go in the kitchen and Caleb will help you get some cereal before school.” The little girl nodded and skipped into the kitchen, her blonde ponytails swaying as she walked. Charlie came in next. She looked excited, no doubt it was about driving to school today. Last but not least was Andrew who walked down the hallway with a football helmet on his head. Kurt had to stifle a laugh when he saw him.

“Andrew bud, what are you wearing?”

“Trying not to get a brain injury when Charlie undoubtedly crashes the car today.” he replied. “The helmet should help reduce the impact and prevent me from getting any internal bleeding in my brain.” Kurt laughed. Andrew was such a smart 10 year old and recently he was very into medicine. He was telling anyone and everyone that one day he was going to be a doctor. Charlie however did not consider her brother as charming as Kurt did.

“You’re such a booger! Take it off.”

“No! I’m just trying not to die.” Andrew retorted.

“You are not wearing it in the car when I’m driving.”

“Guess I’m not going to school then.” the boy replied.

“Not an option.” Kurt said jumping in. “Honey, our car is pretty safe so I think you’ll be okay without the helmet.”

“You can never be too careful Papa.” Andrew replied. Charlie gave her father an exasperated look and threw her hands out in frustration.

“Let it go.” Kurt to his daughter. Charlie rolled her eyes and then grabbed the lunches that she had made the night before and put them on the counter.

“Okay, we’re leaving in 10 minutes.” Charlie told the rest of her siblings. They all looked at her with blank expressions on their faces. They were clearly so excited about their ride to school. When 10 minutes was up, each kid walked over to Kurt to say goodbye.

“Bye Papa.” Caleb and Charlie both said as they grabbed their backpacks.

“Bye Papa, I love you. I hope your ankle feels better.” Lucy replied sweetly. “Bye lamby!” she added giving her stuffed animal a kiss as well. Andrew was last. He walked over and gave Kurt a full on hug.

“Bye Papa, If is the last time we see each other, I want you to know, you were a great father.” he said.

“No one is dying. Get going before your sister leaves your butt behind.” Andrew sent his father a smile and then went out to the car.

“Please, don’t let anything happen to them...or to the car.” Kurt said to no one before he started working on some things for Vogue. When the kids got home later that afternoon, Kurt was sprawled out on the couch taking a nap. He heard whispers as all four kids came home, but kept his eyes clothed.

“No one better say anything. Got it?” Charlie hissed in a hushed tone.

“Do you honestly think Dad and Papa won’t notice?” Caleb replied.

“I’m going to tell them.” Charlie told her brother. “It was an accident.”

“It wouldn’t have been if you knew how to parallel park better…”

“Like you can do better!” Kurt decided that was the moment that he would let his children know he could hear everything they were saying.

“Who would like to tell me what happened?” he said, startling all four children.

“I’m not a part of this.” Andrew said. “Come on Luc.” The little girl followed her older brother down the hallway to their rooms.

“And then there were two. Spill. How bad is the damage?”

“So…” Charlie began. “When we got to school, there weren’t any spots in the parking lot. So I had to find street parking and parallel park…”

“And…” Kurt replied.

“When I went to pull in, I may have tapped the back bumper a little bit and there may be a dent.”

“Is is a big dent?” Kurt replied with a groan.

“It’s a medium sized dent.” Charlie confessed.

“That’s not all.” Caleb said quietly to which his sister sent him a death glare.

“What else?”

“Okay, well this part was not really my fault.” Charlie began. “Some asshole-”

“Language.” Kurt reprimanded.

“Some annoying person parked so close to me - both in the front and the back so when I tried to pull out, I had to wiggle out of the spot and I pulled forward a little too fast and dented the front too.”

“Give me the car key.” Kurt said immediately. Charlie walked up hesitantly and placed the key in her father’s hand.

“Are you gonna yell?”

“I’m trying to be calm. I suggest you go and think about what you’re going to tell your father when he gets home. I’d also think about ways to make up the money to pair for the damage to be repaired. It was a mistake, but you need to take responsibility for your actions.” Caleb sent his sister a smirk.

“Fair enough.”

“Oh and Caleb, don’t laugh just yet. Until your sister can prove that she can parallel park without denting the car, you get to drive her where she has to go. Once you pass your test of course. I happen to know that you are a great parallel parker so it shouldn't be a problem.”

“Papa! That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair kid.” Kurt shot back. Both teenagers went off to their bedrooms and Kurt let out a sigh. If he hadn’t broken his stupid ankle, their car wouldn’t be dented in both the front and the back. He knew for sure that he wouldn’t be handing the car key to either one of his teenagers anytime soon, even if that meant that he had to learn to drive with his left foot until his right was healed.

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: key #littlej097 #daddy klaine

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notarelationship · 4 years ago

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Anderson’s Ghosts 23/24

Klaine Advent: Worry

Getting there...Thank you for reading and sticking with me after all these many months! one more...

–

“I have to confess, Mr. Anderson, when you called and asked if we could take care of something for you today, this isn’t what I expected.” Blaine stood, accepting the thick envelope from his lawyer before shaking his hand. “Can I ask, if you don’t mind, what caused you to change your mind?”

Blaine sighed. He supposed he was going to get that question more than a few times over the next few days. “To be honest, I finally realized what I wanted out of my life.”

And that was it, really. He was tired of suffocating who he was, making himself and everyone around him miserable; it was time to fix things. Not for the first time that morning, he hoped it wasn't too late.

The next part would be harder, and not just because the streets of Lima had only been partially plowed, making driving treacherous. Blaine laughed aloud in the car. It would be just his luck to get into a car accident on his way to trying to make up for the terrible person he’d been for the past eight years. He did still worry that he wouldn’t be believed at all.

The slow drive to the Hummel’s wound up working in his favor. He recognized Sam’s car out front when he parked on the street, which was a relief. He wasn’t sure he’d be allowed inside without Sam running interference. He texted Sam to let him know he was there. Come around to the side door Sam texted back, so Blaine trudged through the snow bank and up the icy driveway to the side of the house. Sam was waiting there to let him in, so he didn’t even have to ring the bell.

“You can leave your wet boots here,” Sam said, indicating a rubber mat with a bunch of other shoes in various stages of drying off. “Everyone’s in socks.”

“That’s, yeah - makes sense,” Blaine managed. “Is this okay?” He asked, turning to look at Sam. Sam shrugged, but didn’t flinch or look away.

“It’s a little weird, sure. But I told them you wouldn’t be long, and that it was important, and that you were leaving town tomorrow so it needed to happen today,” Blaine answered. “Just like you said.”

Blaine nodded. “Let’s do this then.” He followed Sam down the hall and into the family room, where everyone was gathered. Blaine was struck instantly how the whole scene was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. An almost too big for the room Christmas tree was in the corner, covered in mismatched ornaments, lovingly collected over the years. Over the fireplace hung three stockings, with Burt, Carol and Kurt embroidered on them. Mercedes was sitting next to Kurt on the sofa, and hers and Sam’s kids were on the floor, playing with gifts they had obviously just opened that morning. Blaine’s Christmas mornings had never looked so inviting.

“Hey everyone, I think you all know Blaine Anderson, my boss - “

“And friend, I hope?” Blaine interrupted Sam, with a questioning look.

“And friend, definitely.” Sam looked at him and smiled, the lifetime of history between them warming his face. “Blaine and I have known each other since the sixth grade.” Sam carried on with the unnecessary introduction. “Burt you know, this is his wife Carol, and - “

“Kurt,” Blaine said before he could stop himself. “It’s been a long time.”

The expression on Kurt’s face was more one of confused curiosity than outright hatred, which was encouraging. Maybe this would all be okay.

“Almost ten years, I think?” Kurt scrunched up his face in thought. Blaine nodded, not entirely sure what to say next. He didn’t know how to just say that he wished it had been different. He hoped he’d get the chance some time.

“Sam said you wanted to bring me something?’ Burt asked, shaking Blaine from his thoughts of Kurt. “I hope it’s not an eviction notice for the shop already.” Blaine couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke, but it didn’t feel like it.

“No, definitely not, no,” Blaine stammered. He wanted to ask how Burt was doing, but wasn’t sure it would be welcome. “I guess I should, I wanted to bring you this.” Blaine handed Burt the thick envelope.

“Huh,” Burt grunted, his eyes narrowing as he took the envelope. “There’s a lot of paper in here. Why don’t you give me the digest version and I’ll read it all later.”

“Yeah, okay,” Blaine scratched the back of his head, unable to stop himself from glancing at Kurt, but the expression on his face wasn;t one Blaine could read. “It's paperwork formally converting the purchase of Hummel Tire and Lube into a loan agreement that will allow the shop to remain operating independently, under your ownership as long as you need.” Blaine heard Carol gasp, but he glanced again at Kurt. His mouth had dropped open just a bit, but he closed it quickly. “If that’s okay with you? You could still take the offer if you prefer that.”

“No, no,” Burt spoke, but his expression had changed from one of suspicion to simply wary. “Do you mind if I take a look at the terms of the loan before I decide how I feel about this?”

“Yes, of course,” Blaine clasped his hands together. “Take your time. I’ll leave word with my lawyer to wait for your call.” Burt nodded, and it seemed like a good time to disappear.

“Blaine,” Kurt spoke. “We’re about to sit down for Christmas lunch. Would you like to join us?

#klaine advent: worry #klaine advent #klaine advent: 2019 #Anderson's Ghosts

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