#klaine advent: value

[gleekto]

Klaine Advent 2022: Chemistry Sucks (9/?)

Summary: Nerd!Kurt/ Popular!Blaine high school AU - Kurt joins Glee club in his junior year to please his dad, though he’d rather just hide out in the library until he can graduate and get out of Lima.

Turns out he’s not the only gay kid in town. Too bad the other out gay kid is cocky and popular senior, Blaine Anderson. Sure of himself, gets all the solos, things served to him on a platter. Kurt finds him shallow and infuriating.

Blaine finds Kurt square and irritating.

Yet at a party one night, they promise to sleep together if they don’t have other opportunities by the end of the year. A dare. Naturally competitive spirits.

Day 1, Day 2,Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, Day 6, Day 7, Day 8

Chemistry Sucks (Day 9: Value)

Kurt isn't exactly sure why this dumb competitive bet with Blaine has so drastically shifted the dynamic between them, but somehow since Regionals, Blaine has gone from not wanting to be associated with the nerdy gay junior to his BFF. Or maybe not quite his BFF, but Blaine sure does text him a lot.

Or maybe it wasn't the bet. Maybe it was the winning duet. Kurt having proved himself an asset rather than a liability to the ultra-competitive leader of the Glee club. The unpredicted value of a Regionals victory to his social life. Regardless, Kurt is apparently suddenly very textworthy.

Today alone, his phone hasn't stopped buzzing. Even during class.

B: Are you taking history next year?

K: IDK. I haven't decided yet?

B: Try to avoid Ms Pattinson. The worst. Dry and a lot of work.

K: Sounds like chemistry.

B: Come on, chemistry can be fun ;)

Kurt honestly has no idea how to respond so he just leaves it.

Then an hour later -

B: Do you think they'll give us another duet at nationals?

K: You sure have a lot of questions today. I don't know. You'll get something though don't worry, leading man.

B: I'm serious. We sounded great together. You could help us win.

K: I feel so used.

B: No. I mean you were great too.

K: Thanks?

B: That sounded cocky sorry.

K: When have you ever apologized for being cocky?

And just when Kurt was finished his nightly moisturizing routine, ready for bed, his phone buzzes again and he just knows it's Blaine. Again. He rolls his eyes but feels a twinge of he doesn't want to even think of what -

B: Do you think Harry Styles is hot?

Another important conversation that needs to be had right now.

K: He's straight.

B: So? And no, I think he's bi.

K: I've learned not to fawn over straight guys. Don't get your hopes up.

B: I do not think Harry Styles would be in to me. I just think he's hot.

K: Glad you've maintained your grip on reality.

B: I think lots of guys are hot.

K: Not just photoshopped celebrities?

B: No seriously. I appreciate real guys too.

K: Sam?

B: Like my best friend, Sam?...Yeah, he's hot. But don't tell him ok?

K: He would be flattered.

B: Oh I know. Just don't want him to get a big head.

K: Of course I won't tell him.

B: Like you've never thought your friends were hot.

K: Worse. I used to have a terrible crush on Finn. Now he's my stepbrother.

B: Yikes. You win. Finn is pretty good looking though.

K: Him too?

B: I told you, I think lots of guys are hot.

K: Artie, Puck, Mike?

B: In that nerdy-hot kind of way, I'm not really one for the bad boys, and Mike is definitely hot.

K: True. Well you pretty much have a crush on all the guys in the Glee club.

B: You missed one.

K: Seriously?

B: Are you fishing? And no crushes. Just physical appreciation.

K: I never fish.

B: Well I think you're hot too.

Kurt is relieved this is all on text so Blaine can't see how clammy his hands are and the unintentional smile plastered on his face.

K: You're not so bad yourself.

B: That's a relief.

K: ?

B: I mean if we end up sleeping together, I hear it works better that way.

K: Mutual physical appreciation.

B: Exactly. Leads to better outcomes.

K: We're stopping this right now Blaine.

B: ...

B: Goodnight Kurt.

K: Goodnight. No more texting.

B: Until tomorrow.

K: Fine.

[klaineadvent]

[wowbright]

Fic: Convergence

Klaine Advent 2022: grind, thunder, value, overt, education, converge

Words: ~2150 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Kurt’s patience runs out.

I’m back with more vignettes from my Mormon!Klaine universe for Klaine Advent 2022! This vignette takes place after Ovaltine and Hot Chocolate.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost.

--------

Kurt really didn't understand why Elder St. James was so obsessed with “winning” at human pyramids—it was a team-building exercise, not a competition, and Kurt wasn't even convinced the team building part of it was that important since both he and Elder St. James were leaving the country in short order. But it was a break from the daily grind of the mission, and maybe obsessing over it was a way for Elder St. James to put even more distance between his brain and worrying about door approaches and baptismal numbers and errant missionaries.

Errant missionaries. Kurt was still having a hard time wrapping his mind around the news about Elder Thompson. And he was a little annoyed at Elder St. James for not having told him. He understood why Elder St. James hadn't told him, that he was trying to keep the whole thing private, to respect the parties involved, to not feed the mission rumor mill—but still. He didn't like hearing about it from a random pair of Utah bros on his way out of the communal bathroom that morning.

“He was almost set to go home, too,” a guy with blond hair and a bland face was saying to another guy with blond hair and a bland face at the sink closest to the bathroom door. He was someone Kurt had met a million times but whose name he could never remember without looking at his name tag because he looked like almost every other missionary from Utah with pure pioneer ancestry. “Who just ups and leaves their mission when they're about to go home? Twenty to one he gets disfellowshipped."

“Who went AWOL?” Kurt asked Elder … Ballard. That was his name. Just like the apostle. Probably thought he was just as important as an apostle, too.

“Elder Thompson. Not the redheaded Elder Thompson. The tall one. I think he was serving in Leipzig? With curly black hair and, umm, he's American, and …” Elder Ballard seemed to be fishing around for another way to describe the Elder Thompson from Leipzig without mentioning the characteristic that most quickly distinguished him from most other Mormon missionaries.

“Black?” Kurt asked.

“I don't see color,” said Elder Ballard. “But, yeah.”

“Right.” Kurt bit the inside of his cheek. He wasn't perfect. He had made mistakes. Early on, he’d dismissed Mercedes’ concerns about race being a factor in who got solos in the glee club, too focused on the obstacles Mr Schue had set up for him in that area. But he wasn't stupid. He'd started to pay attention, and everything that Mercedes said—he'd started to see it. He'd seen it in his friends and his teachers and in himself, in the way he’d felt uncomfortable and unsure his first time going to Mercedes church in a way he hadn't going to his grandparents’ church or even Rachel’s synagogue.

I don't see color was just code for, I see it, but I pretend it's not there because the history of race relations in the church and the United States as a whole makes me uncomfortable to think about.

If Kurt had been in Elder Thompson's shoes, working with idiots like Elder Ballard would have been enough for him to go AWOL. He doubted that was it—Elder Thompson had much more patience and tolerance and forbearance than Kurt ever would—but still. Elder Thompson must have had some good reason, and racism disguised as benevolence was as good a reason as any.

“It was something about a girl. Or apostasy,” said the other missionary, equally blond and pasty. Elder Surette. A greenie. Kurt had met him earlier in the weekend and not been impressed. He still wasn't. The guy clearly knew nothing about the situation and was just pulling out the top two reasons why people might leave their mission without authorization.

Kurt pursed his lips. “If you don't know, you shouldn't say. In fact, you probably shouldn't be talking about this at all. ‘Every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.’ Focus on your work.” Kurt couldn't look at them anymore. He turned and left without waving goodbye and tried not to seethe.

Now, getting ready to enter the pyramid, Kurt was faced with the unfortunate realization that Elders Ballard and Surette would be his supporting bricks.

“Where did they come from?” Kurt asked Elder St. James under his breath.

“Oh!” Elder St. James said, as if he, too, had just noticed they were there. “Glad they showed up. I asked them yesterday. Football players, you know. They have the right kind of body for forming a foundation.”

“A foundation of sand, maybe,” Kurt mumbled under his breath.

But he didn't fight it. It was a stupid team building exercise. It didn't matter.

Only, with his hands on their shoulders and nothing to look at but the strip of pink skin between the collars of their shirts and their blond, blond hair, it felt like it mattered. Not in the way it mattered to Elder St. James. But as if God had put Kurt right here, right now, because there was a part of their earlier conversation he needed to finish.

The next layer of bricks came into place. Sister Pepper was on half of his back, her knee too close to his kidney. But Kurt didn't know the German word for kidney, so he kept his mouth shut.

And then another hand, reassuring and familiar, pressed against his shoulder. “Sorry, Elder Hummel. It's been a while since I've done a pyramid.” Blaine’s voice came warm behind Kurt’s ear. He settled into place almost immediately, his weight distributed evenly. A yoke that was easy to bear. “Hey, Sister Pepper. Your knee should be more like … not on his bladder.”

Bladder. Apparently Blaine didn't know the word for kidney, either. Well, close enough. Sister Pepper redistributed her weight and she, too became—well, not an easy yoke, but an easier one.

Blaine made everything easier.

Easier, but not easy. Kurt stared at the necks of Elders Ballard and Surette at their ties peeking out in boring shades of navy and grey, and felt his anger grow.

Kurt didn't try to tamp it down. It was a gift from the Holy Spirit. Establish my gospel, that there may not be so much contention, the scriptures said. But until the gospel was established, contention was just a fact of life.

“Hey, Elder Anderson,” Kurt said, his breath forceful enough that a few strands of Elder Ballard’s hair moved in time with his words. “What color tie are you wearing?”

“Ummm … the checkered one today. With green and blue.”

“And what color are Sister Pepper's glasses frames?”

A slight shifting of weight on Kurt's back. “Pink.”

“Pink?” Sister Pepper sounded slightly offended. “I'd call them coral.”

“Anyone want to try the color of the carpet?” Kurt asked.

“Are you colorblind?” It was Elder Ballard. His back moved like shifting sand as he spoke.

“No.”

“He wants us to practice our German colors!” Elder Surette chirped. “Okay. There’s brown. That's easy. But this red part, a little like wine—"

“Kastanienrot!” Elder Ballard sang. It was the German equivalent of maroon. The exactness of it, stated by someone who insisted on vagueness and euphemisms elsewhere, made Kurt indignant.

“Is that so?” Kurt said. “What’s the color of the Book of Mormon?”

“Königsblau,” Elder Ballard said with a tone of derision. “You should know that by now, Elder Hummel.”

“Then what color is your tie?”

“Mitternachtsblau.” Elder Ballard’s voice was seething with self-satisfaction.

Through the hands and knees of Blaine and Sister Pepper, Kurt could feel the weight of another body on his back. But it wasn't too heavy. He could hold strong.

“It's funny, Elder Ballard.”

“What's funny, Elder Hummel?”

“For someone who can't see the color of a human being, you certainly see fine distinctions for everything else.”

Elder Ballard turned his head halfway so he could look at Kurt out of the corner of his eye. The pyramid started to wobble. “Wait. Were you offended by the fact that I’m not a racist?”

“Going out of your way to avoid mentioning that someone has brown skin, treating it like it's some kind of terrible taboo—I don't know about you, but to me, that actually seems a little bit racist.”

Elder Ballard’s head swung full way around.

Thunder boomed in Kurt’s ears.

Someone's elbow was in Kurt’s kidney. Someone's knee jabbed the back of his thigh—only it didn't feel like a knee, it felt like a car tire with the weight of a car behind it, because an entire pyramid of people had collapsed on top of him.

His own face was pressed into the back of Elder Ballard’s clammy neck.

Gross.

“This isn’t a pyramid. It’s a pileup!” squeaked Elder St. James from somewhere inside the heap.

“Roll off! Roll off!” Blaine directed, his jaw moving against the back of Kurt’s shoulder as he eked out the words.

The weight lightened. Kurt freed himself from Elder Ballard’s back and sat up on the floor.

Elder Ballard was next to him, glaring. “What's wrong with you, Elder Hummel?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“You called me racist.”

“Actually, I didn't, but if you think it applies—”

Elder Ballard made a lunge toward Kurt.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” A hand came down between them. It belonged to Elder St. James. “What is going on here?”

“Oh,” said Kurt innocently, “I was just making the observation that we, as Mormons, seem really comfortable talking about people's ethnic backgrounds and family heritage in general, you know, like my German and Irish and Polish and generally European ancestry and your English ancestry and … Elder Ballard, what are you? You’re from Utah, right? So you've probably got some Scandinavian, some English, some … anything else?”

Elder Ballard’s eyes moved left to right and back again, as if he was trying to follow the track of Kurt’s thoughts and couldn't quite catch up. “Danish.”

Wow. He really was as dumb as a bag of bricks if he didn't know that Danish was a subset of Scandinavian. But Kurt could let that go. “Anyway, we were talking about how as a people, we really value genealogy. But for some reason, if someone is of African descent, we get weird about it. At least, those of us who are white Mormons do. Like, sometimes we literally avoid saying that a person is black, which is another word for saying they're of African descent, because it somehow seems rude to us. So we pretend that aspect of them is invisible, even though we don't pretend the same thing about the heritage of anyone else.”

“Oh!”

“That’s what—”

Only the Oh and the that's what were spoken at the same time, the first by Elder Ballard, and the second by Elder St. James.

“That's what you were talking about?” Elder St James said over Elder Ballard’s Oh! “Then why was Elder Ballard yelling about königsblau?”

Elder Ballard sank back down to his haunches. Something in his face had changed. “That was … a metaphor, I think?”

“Exactly,” Kurt said. “You know, Jesus taught by parables, missionaries talk about things in metaphors. I guess all the analogizing distracted both of us from pyramid building.”

“Fine. Whatever.” Elder St. James scrunched up his face like he wasn't sure if he believed either of them, or he thought they were both a couple of loons, but he let it go. “Let's try again.”

Kurt felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Blaine. He took Kurt’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “I was right there, and that's not exactly what your conversation sounded like it was about. Well, not until the very last part.”

“Yeah. It wasn't overt. We were picking up from an earlier conversation.”

“Do I even want to know what he said to set you off?”

Kurt weighed how much he should say. Elder Thompson had been Blaine’s companion just two months ago. If he didn't know, now was not the time to tell him. “Oh, just … when white people say they don't see the color of people's skin, it seems they only make that claim so they don't have to think about racism. And it kind of annoys me. I mean, I know I'm white, I'm not trying to develop a white savior complex or anything, I’m not the perfect person to give Elder Ballard an education about all of it, but … I had to say something."

“Good. That was worth tumbling over.” Blaine smiled—the kind of smile that only he could give, that made Kurt feel like his stubbornness wasn't foolish, but a gift. “It turns out our values converge over more than cheerleading.”

[forabeatofadrum]

Ljubim te (9/24)

Notes: Happy 2023! How is the new year treating everyone? Here it’s so far so good.

I am still writing the later chapters of this fic, but chapter 9 came to me in a dream! Well, not really. But it’s here! Thanks for sticking around.

AO3 | S&C  

–  

VALUE

Kurt’s in Blaine’s kitchen, in his underwear, making scrambled eggs. Kurt stayed over, since the rain wouldn’t stop and by the time they’d finished the fourth movie, they decided that it’d be better for Kurt to stay. So they ordered food and Blaine gave him a pillow and a blanket for the couch.

So when Blaine woke up and walked out of his room, the sight of Kurt in his underwear greeted him. Well, okay, Kurt’s wearing a t-shirt as well, since Blaine gave him one. Blaine already knows what he looks like underneath, since he stripped yesterday.

Kurt’s currently wearing Blaine’s t-shirt and Blaine cannot stop looking at him. It looks good on him, even though it doesn’t really fit. Blaine should probably get Kurt’s clothes. They’re dry by now. The longer Kurt walks around like this, the more distracted Blaine gets.

Huh.

Blaine tilts his head. He really hasn’t stopped looking at Kurt. But can you blame him? Kurt is incredibly handsome.

Oh.

Blaine realises what is going on.

He’s jealous.

Of course he’s jealous of Kurt’s looks. What man wouldn’t be jealous of that flawless skin and the somewhat muscular arms (does Kurt work out?) and the long legs. Blaine frowns. It’s been a while since he had self-esteem issues like this. In high school, he was in an all boys’ school, so it was hard to ignore that a lot of guys were good looking and it always made Blaine somewhat uncomfortable.

Blaine pushes his uncomfortable feelings away, because Kurt’s made breakfast and he deserves the attention. They talk about the storm and about the movie, but they get interrupted by Kurt’s phone.

Kurt looks at the screen.

“Sunil is asking if I’m awake and if I want breakfast.”

Right. Sunil. Fuck, Blaine feels the discomfort about that as well.

“Lemme tell him I crashed at your place,” Kurt taps the screen and Blaine decides to get over his messy thoughts and be supportive.

“Uh, you and Sunil would make a nice couple.”

Kurt glances at Blaine.

“What?”

“I mean, it’s okay if you are!”

“Thanks?”

Blaine is totally fucking this up.

“We’re not dating,” Kurt says, “Just because I’m gay and he’s pan doesn’t mean we’re dating. Besides, I think I like someone else.”

“Right. Sorry. I didn’t want to assume. It’s true you can also have breakfast with friends.”

“Like this.”

“Yes. Like this.”

--

After breakfast, Blaine practically throws Kurt’s clothes at him.

“I’ll just get changed in my room,” he says.

Once he’s in front of his wardrobe, he doesn’t know what to do. Kurt likes his outfits. He said it during their trip to Koper and Piran and ever since then Blaine has been putting more thought in his outfits.

In the end he decides on a navy blazer, some dark jeans and a green bowtie. Kurt compliments him when he gets out of the room. Great! Together they leave the apartment. Kurt’s on his way to class and Blaine has a meeting to attend.

“Thanks again for letting me crash,” Kurt says when they part ways and they hug. It’s nice.

--

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

Blaine lies on his couch with the phone at his ear. He takes a breath.

“Do you think I’m handsome?”

“Blaine, you’re my boyfriend! Of course I think you’re handsome!” Quinn answers with a laugh, “What’s brought this on?”

Blaine wraps his free arm around himself.

“Remember that I told you that I used to be a bit insecure at Dalton?”

“… Yes.”

Blaine bites his lips and even though he’s alone, his eyes dart around the room. Eventually, he tells Quinn everything. She’s his confidant, after all. He tells her how handsome Kurt is and how he can’t stop looking at him, because his mind is constantly comparing himself to Kurt.

“But you should see him, Quinnie!” Blaine continues, “No man should look that handsome! And his body! Should I work out more?”

“You have a nice body, Blaine. You should value your body, you only have one!”

“Yeah, but Kurt’s nicer! His chest, Quinn! His chest!”

“Have you seen him shirtless?”

“Yes!”

Blaine quickly explains what has led to this. Quinn hums in understanding and she tells him that he’s a good friend. Blaine hopes he is. He did make it somewhat awkward this morning by bringing up Sunil.

“But Blaine, you look great. Even if you don’t look like Kurt,” Quinn reassures him, “It’s hard to believe it, but Denise actually told me about something new the other day.”

“Denise?”

“Oh, that’s senator Jackson-Smith’s daughter’s first name.”

“She’s still in LA?”

“Yes, we’ve been hanging out and today we talked about this thing called body neutrality!”

Blaine sits back on his couch and he listens to Quinn explain this entire concept. He comments every now and then and he makes affirming noises. It does sound interesting and Denise has the right idea. He doesn’t know if it will work, though. He wants to believe in it, but then he thinks about Kurt in his underpants and t-shirt, or Kurt without the t-shirt and that’s not an image that will leave is brain any time soon.

He feels restless, so he gets up from the couch to pace around. Quinn’s voice is still in his ear. She’s talking more about Denise now and Blaine’s happy to gradually change subjects.

Maybe he shouldn’t have let Kurt stay over. That started the whole thing.

“Blaine? Blaine! Are you still listening?”

Blaine blinks a couple of times.

“Huh. Yes.”

“Liar,” Quinn says, but Blaine can hear the joking tone in her voice. He smiles. “It’s late at yours. We can talk some more tomorrow.”

Blaine agrees. They say their goodbyes, and goodnights in Blaine’s case. Blaine needs an evening to himself. He might brew a nice pot of tea and curl up on the couch underneath a fluffy blanket so that he can read. He bought some new books from Mladinska knjiga and he’s been waiting for the right time.

Yes. This is a great idea. Blaine puts on the kettle and he walks to his room in order to get changed into something more comfortable. That’s when he sees the t-shirt that Kurt wore in the morning.

He picks it up.

“Snap out of it,” he says to himself.

[gleefulpoppet]

A Secret Affair Chapter 11: Value [273 words & 5 new pieces of artwork posted!]

"Don’t underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering." ~Piglet

Written for Klaine Advent 2022. The story itself is finished and entirely posted. All the additional chapters are visuals that enrich the narrative.

You can read it from the beginning on AO3 [Here].

[teddyshoney]

Klaine Advent Day 9: Value

Many huge thanks go to my wonderful and amazing friend, @gleefulpoppet, who came up with the idea for this chapter and made artwork for it. Thank you, thank you, thank you, my friend!

You can read this new chapter HERE, and you'll find a small snippet below.

---

“My Kurt, you knows sumpin’?”

“What, my Bwainers?”

“I wike bein’ kind.”

“Me, too.”

“Is kind when I hands you cwayons?” Blaine asked.

“Uh-huh.” Kurt accepted the blue crayon from Blaine, wondering how he’d known that he wanted to start by coloring the ice.

“Is kind when I tewws you dat you has nice hair?”

---

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Klaine Advent 2022

Christmas Crush

AO3

Value

Having a three day school week meant Friday came fast. Suddenly Blaine was already preparing his weekend schedule, Saturday breakfast with his mom, Tina wanted to hang out too and maybe he could manage another history study session with Kurt or reschedule that coffee.

His mother was always telling Blaine to hold himself at a higher value. He had a lot to offer. Blaine was kind, smart (most of the time, cute boys made him a little dumb), and when his hair wasn’t a total mess he was quite attractive.

Why wouldn’t Kurt want to go on a coffee date? All Blaine needed was a little confidence boost. He’d say, “hey Kurt, I really want to reschedule that coffee but I was wondering if we could make it a date instead.” Maybe that would turn things from coffee to dinner. The world was his oyster! If only he could get that little bit of…

Bam!!

All his thinking had only left him vulnerable. He wasn’t watching where he was walking and bumped right into the captain hockey team. Rick aka “the Stick.”

Blaine’s books scattered to the floor and Rick’s cronies laughed.

“New kid, I do not have time for this today,” Rick said, “but bet I’ll be comin’ to collect later.”

Blaine sighed and picked up his book before rushing off to class. He was positive Rick meant it; he could only imagine what Monday had in store for him.

When he sat down on history Kurt was already there.

“Hey Blaine,” He said. “Any plans for the weekend?”

Now was his chance.

“Nothing much, why?”

“I was hoping we could grab that coffee.”

“I’d love that,” Blaine replied.

Turns out he didn’t need that boost of confidence after all, Kurt had done all of the work for him.

[cerriddwenluna]

The Diary of Kurt E. Hummel (9-10/24)

This diary belongs to Kurt E. Hummel.

Please do not read this without my express permission. (Yes, that includes you, Finn.)

***

Have you always wanted to find out what Kurt writes in his diary? Now is your chance! But, ssssht! Don't tell Kurt we stole it... ;)

Yes, you read that right! I am *still* writing this on and off when I have the time and energy lol. I guess it's a good thing most of these journal entries are not in any order, so you won't be left in the lurch :P

Today is a two-fer, because chapters nine and ten actually are directly related, but you'll have to read them to find out how...

Read chapters 9 and 10 now, below the cut and also on AO3 and S&C!

Read from the beginning

Value

Overt

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

[1908jmd]

Day 9 Klaine Advent Value

“Funny to think we are recording a Christmas album, when it’s 85 degrees outside.”

Kurt and Blaine had been invited by Unique and Marley to come to LA in July, to add their background vocals on their latest music.

“It’s such fun to be here doing this – thank you for asking us.” Kurt smiled.

“Well if one year at McKinley taught me anything it’s the value of good friendship – and Blaine was always a great friend to us.” Unique said.

“We were there for the engagement, so we feel that you guys are like brothers to us!” Marley agreed.

[spaceorphan18]

Scenes from December (9/24)

Klaine Advent Day Nine : Value

***

December, 2014

Kurt sat at the end of the kitchen table in his dad’s house, coffee mug in his hands as he read the web browser on his laptop. A plate of half eaten scrambled eggs and turkey sausage sat to his side.  It was late enough in the morning that the sun was finally up, and fully shining in the window behind him.  It had snowed about a foot the previous night and now the snow lay snug against the window outside.  Despite the cold outside, Kurt felt rather comfortable and relaxed in his blue, plaid pajama bottoms and Blaine’s old Dalton t-shirt.  Normally, he’d have something playing in the background - a musical soundtrack or the top forty on the radio, but it was nice to take a moment to soak in the peacefulness before his day became crazy.  

“Hey, didn’t hear you guys come in last night,” Burt came into the kitchen, and went straight for the coffee maker.  

“It was just me,” Kurt said, closing the laptop.  “Blaine stayed at the apartment.  I just cannot with that place.  It looks like a gay unicorn threw up all over it.” 

Burt let out a laugh as he leaned against the counter.  “You guys been married, what, a month - and you already need time apart?” 

“Actually, no,” Kurt said.  He tapped his fingers on the mug, his wedding ring making a clanking sound against the ceramic.  The whole thing was a bit surreal still, but honestly, he loved being married.  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss his own personal space heater that was Blaine in his bed last night.  “He and Cooper are getting the last of the boxes out of the apartment so they can turn in the keys, and then they’re headed to Kentucky.” 

“Kentucky?” 

“Yeah…” Kurt leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee.  “Some holiday family reunion that happens once every ten years.” 

His dad gave him a confused look.  “And you didn’t wanna go or he didn’t want you to go?” 

Kurt smirked.  “Oh, it was his parents who insisted I didn’t go.  Blaine said he wouldn’t go without me, but they wanted to break the news to his grandma that he’s married to a man gently.  She’s only got a little bit of time left, and they’re afraid that a grandson married to another man might actually kill her.”  

“Well…” Burt shook his head, sipping his coffee with a disgusted look on his face.  “I say, let the old bag die then.” 

He appreciated his dad saying that, even if he found it absolutely laughable that his sheer existence would be fatal to anyone.  “It’s fine.  We talked about it - and I’m going to use the next few days to see if I can find us somewhere to live so that when we get back to New York we aren’t homeless.  Right now, our only options of value are the NYU dorms and a place not bigger than my closet here where you have to use a community bathroom, in an area that probably makes the NYU dorms seem like the more sanitary option.” 

“Probably wouldn’t hurt you to have a more traditional college experience,” Burt said, coming to the table to sit down.  “You know - back when we were dating, I would often stay with your mom at her dorm.  It sucked.  Her roommate liked to play the mandolin at 3am.  But I wouldn’t trade those years for anything.”  Burt shook his head, deep in thought.  

“What?” Kurt asked, curiously.  

“Just thinking about you - all grown up and everything.”  There was a tinge of wistfulness in Burt’s voice.  “Wish your mom would be able to see you.  Going to college.  Being married to someone who loves you.  The whole thing would have made her proud.”  

Kurt felt a warmth spread across him.  His memories of his mother may be faded, just vague images and spotty remembrances.  But she was always there with him.  Every day.  “I’d like to think she knows.  I’m sure she would be.” 

“You know - if she had been around, and the two of you had a wedding of your own, your mom would have let Blaine’s grandma have it,” Burt said.  “She had a fire in her, she did.  And she didn’t often hold things back.  She would have loved Blaine.  Would have loved that the two of you found each other.”  

Burt put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder - the two of them sharing a knowing look.  His dad wasn’t always good with telling Kurt he loved him.  But he always knew.  

“Okay, so show me these dorms,” Burt said, pulling his chair around.  “Let’s see what we’re working with.” 

“Or… I could show you the really cute one-bedroom I found in Manhattan.  It’s on the sixteenth floor but it’s only three-thousand a month.” 

Burt gave him a hard look.  “No.” 

[thnxforknowingme]

It's Who I'm With (15/24)

Summary: In an attempt to make industry connections (and pay rent), Kurt gets a job as a nanny for the daughter of a Broadway producer. When bringing her to a piano lesson one day in December, he meets Blaine Anderson, personal assistant to a famed pianist. (For Klaine Advent 2021)

Rating: T

Notes: Appendix. Appendix?! I did it, I managed it, I somehow got it in there but this was the most out of left field prompt (so far).

Previous Parts | Read on AO3

Fifteen: Appendix

Back at the Lowes’, Kurt cranked up the thermostat so the whole apartment was toasty. He helped Francie start packing for her trip, briefly venturing down into the building’s basement to access Mr. Lowe’s storage unit and pull out all the ski equipment. Once Francie was all ready to go, besides the things she’d need for the next couple days, they baked cookies in the kitchen.

“These are going to be the best cookies you’ve ever had,” Kurt said as he stood over the stovetop, Francie standing on a stepstool next to him so she could watch. “The secret is the browned butter. It’s magic.”

“Why does cooking the butter first make it different from cooking it in the oven?” she asked, her eyes following how he stirred the butter with a spatula.

“It has to do with the chemistry,” he explained. “It makes different flavors come out if you cook it this way first.”

“Will it make them sweeter?”

“Not exactly,” he said, glancing over at her. She’d grabbed a handful of chocolate chips from where they’d set out the ingredients and was popping them into her mouth. He considered that maybe a second-grader with an immense sweet tooth was not the ideal audience for his more subtle culinary tricks. “It makes them taste more…rich, or complex.”

She stared at him and ate another chocolate chip.

“You’ll like it,” he told her, turning off the burner. “And so will your dad. We could even wrap some up to give him like a present.”

“Okay!” she said, hopping off the stool and following him to the counter, where he poured the butter into a mixing bowl. “I already have another present for him, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt asked. “Is it something you made at school?”

“No,” she said, pushing the sugar in his direction. “It’s a secret.”

He paused to look at her, raising an eyebrow. “Well, aren’t you mysterious.”

She shrugged, and Kurt laughed. “Go get the measuring cups out, Mystery Girl.”

On the train home that night, Kurt had some time to reflect on the fact that he maybe had a date in two days.

He wasn’t positive that it was a date. After all, he didn’t even know what they’d be doing after they met at Prospect Park - it could all end up entirely platonic. He didn’t really know where they stood in any way. This type of job didn’t have an employee handbook with clear rules, an appendix where he could easily look up Engaging in Playful Flirtation with Francie’s Piano Teacher. He’d only interacted with Blaine a half-dozen times, but it already felt so easy to be around him. And all those silly, Christmas-themed gestures had to mean something, right? Or maybe Kurt really was just that jaded and couldn’t accept a stranger being generous and kind at face value.

And if it was a date, what did that mean for the future? Whatever happened between him and Blaine, he was still going to have to see the guy twice a week for Francie’s lessons.

He didn’t know what Sunday would bring, but he let himself - for once - be optimistically hopeful.

[flowerfan2]

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.

[hkvoyage]

New Fic: Rocking Horse Ranch

Summary Kurt has been working hard all year, and has earned a well-deserved break. He joins his family for the Christmas and New Year holidays at Rocking Horse Ranch, just north of New York City. The all-inclusive resort has plenty of outdoor and indoor activities along with evening entertainment. It boasts that it has something for everyone. Little does Kurt know that it also has someone for everyone. Holiday maker!Kurt and activities staff!Blaine. A Klaine AU meeting. Written for Grlnxtdr29’s Klaine Christmas Eve Challenge and the Klaine Advent Challenge.

Rating: Teen and Up Words: Approximately 10,500 words Multi-chapter; Completed

Read on AO3 / FF.net

This story is gifted to @theygettogetherintheend, whose friendship and beta skills I value highly.

This is a short story that I’ve written for Grlnxtdr29’s Klaine Christmas Eve Challenge on this site. The prompts words are “rocking horse” and “tinsel”. I’ve also incorporated 42 Klaine Advent prompts into the story as well. It’s a two-for-one prompt challenge fill!

The story is based upon an actual resort, although I’ve never visited it. The Rocking Horse Ranch Resort is located about 90 miles north of New York City, nestled on 500-acres in the heart of the scenic Hudson River Valley.

Photos of things in the story are under the cut. For AO3 readers, they are hyperlinked within the story.

Ranch lobby area

Kurt’s bedroom

Ski Instructor! Blaine

Kurt’s red “finger hole” sweater

Sleigh ride

[forabeatofadrum]

Hello everyone and a fine El WooWoo Wednesday to you. Thank you @facewithoutheart​ for the tag. I woke up today and I chose violence and by violence I mean “doing something batshit like posting another WIP Wednesday Hospital”.

It’s been a while (7 months, apparently) since I last did one of those, so for the ones who are new, let me explain what a WIP Wednesday Hospital is real quick. The WIP Wednesday Hospital is inspired a post by @facewithoutheart​ called a WIP Wednesday Graveyard, where Christina put her abandoned WIPs to rest and I was obsessed with the idea, but I also realised that I wasn’t ready to put my WIPs to rest since I had the intention of finishing them. So instead of a graveyard, my WIPs reside in a (long-stay) hospital ward. All my WIPs are waiting for me to discharge them (aka finish them). Some WIPs have been in this long-stay hospital ward for years (shout out to aap noot mies for getting discharged after 7 years!) while others are still getting used to it.

Below the cut are 10 patients waiting for a visit. You can go say hi to all of them, or just skip to the ones that interest you. I bolded the fandoms/ships etc. for easier browsing.

So please mask up and leave your name at the guest list: @quizasvivamos @crissmastrees-and-candyklaines @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @wellbelesbian @tea-brigade @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @artsyunderstudy @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @martsonmars @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ @ionlydrinkhotwater​ @1908jmd​ @special-bc-ur-part-of-it​ @larkral​

Patient no. 1 has gotten a lot of love lately. It’s my Snowbaz Carry On Prompt Fest text fic make a fire out of this flame. Simon’s sent a wrong message to Baz and things escalate from there on:

Baz🍆 (17:06) Will I ever meet your soulmate?

Simon Snow-Salisbury (17:06) what

Baz🍆 (17:07) The fish

Simon Snow-Salisbury (17:07) OH

This is Simon’s phone, hence the 🍆 (it’ll get explained) (it’s not what you think). And I hate to say it, but I think I might have to wheel this one back to the hospital ward. I may have to prioritise finishing other fics, including patient no. 2.

Patient no. 2 has the working title comphet babey! and I hope it’s going to be my Klaine Advent fic for this year. I have a total of two (2) ideas for this fic. One is that Blaine and Quinn are in a comphet relationship and the other is that the entire fic takes place in Ljubljana, Slovenia. You’ve heard of “Saló is the place to be”, well, meet a contestant:

Kongresni trg is the place to be.

Kurt loves sitting in the grass - on a blanket, mind you, he’s not going to ruin his clothes - and breathing in the scent from the pizza place in the corner. He’s not attached to the square because of its historical value, but because he likes being here. It’s a nice green spot in the heart of the capital. It’s surrounded by gorgeous buildings and you have a stunning view of the Ljubljana Castle on top of the Castle Hill.

Kurt’s only been here for a few days, but he already loves this place as a spot to unwind. And again, the great pizza place is an added bonus.

Yes, yes, this is based on my own experiences, although unlike Kurt, I did park my ass on the grass.

Patient no. 3 is Just Some Guy. Remember him? Matt Christopher Davis? This is the full 8 years at Watford from an outsider’s POV. Sure, Simon is the Chosen One and Baz is his Main Antagonist, but Matt is just some guy trying to get an education and he’s a bit fed up about these two interrupting his studies. Matt needs a break, so in his fourth year, he exchanges with Micah and fucks off:

“And you would not believe what happened this time!” John says, as usual.

Every week, John gives me updates about life back at Watford. I was clearly mistaken about the year being uneventful. Well, it’s uneventful for me, but for some reasons John finds it important to keep me up to date with the Chosen One’s life.

It all started with the Humdrum sending magickal monkeys to disrupt the welcome picnic.

Oh, and yes, John is Check, Please!’s John Johnson. Why? Because I can.

Speaking of Check, Please!, patient no. 4 is a returning patient and it is a Zimbits fic, although you can also call it a Jack & Lardo friendship fic first and a Zimbits fic second. It’s about Instagram and I haven’t written for it since 2019, but hey, let’s give it some love:

Apparently, the hockey world is not done with Jack Zimmermann.

He’d been updating his Instagram for a month and he’d gathered a couple of followers when one day, a comment appeared.

‘r u jack zimmermann from hockey???‘

Jack had ignored it.

But the comments kept flooding. His follower count expanded greatly. Jack kept ignoring it.

Then, one day, Larissa barges into his room. 

Patient no. 5 is, well, you can say it is a Simon/Butter fic. No, not really. Remember I can’t believe it IS butter? I then planned a Simon Snow Butter Saga that I do want to finish one day but then I sort of let it go in favour for other fics. This is from Cheer up, butter cup!:

But yeah, I have mini butter cups now. I stash them in my cold and enlarged pocket (I persuaded Baz to also spell it bigger on the inside) .

Back in my flat I put them in my fridge. Honestly, Baz should also enlarge the inside of the fridge to make room for all my butter.

“At least my strawberry dessert syrup doesn’t take up that much space, love,” he says as he watches me shove the mini butter cups to the back.

“Baz, what do I do now with all this butter?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You’re asking me? You’re the one who eats them like candy.”

Patient no. 6 is a Love, Victor ending rewrite. Yes, I am also creating a bunch of Love, Victor ending rewrites because I thought the final season sucked ass. BEWARE! SPOILERS FOR LOVE, VICTOR START AFTER THIS SENTENCE, SO SKIP TO THE NEXT PATIENT IT YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED. I already posted All I needed for another day, which is an ending where Victor ends up single and rides the ferris wheel alone, and this one is called All I ever knew, only you. Benji doesn’t show up at the ferris wheel either. Instead, they meet again 3 years later. After all... do I dislike Venji? No, but I am also not incredibly happy with how they ended up together. Hence the rewrite:

A host announces a new band and Leah cheers loudly.

Abby raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of them,” Leah says and she turns to the others, “They’re a new group, all UGA freshmen. I spoke to the drummer once. They want to do covers, but also try their hand at original stuff.”

“Let them hear it,” Abby says and she raises a glass.

The others join in. They look at their joined glasses and they cheer and hoot even more.

Out of the corner of Victor’s eyes, he can see the band getting on stage and he drops his glass when he sees a familiar face.

“Victor, Jesus!” Felix yells out. It’s a good thing Victor’s glass was almost empty and it didn’t fall from a great height, so it didn’t break. It only spills a bit of beer on Victor’s shirt, but Victor couldn’t care less.

Benji is on stage.

Patient no. 7 is an Under the Whispering Door fic called Actual Freeman. It’s supposed to be short and sweet. Emphasis on short. Yet, I haven’t finished it, but I do have this:

Wallace Reid knows he’s up for another change of names. It was fun being Wallace Reid for two years, but it’s time to move on.

It’s time to become Wallace Freeman.

Hugo is the one who proposed. They were out riding the motorcycle. Hugo took them to their favourite spot and went down on one knee.

Patient no. 8 is another returning patient. It’s Hold on to that feeling, my Glee/CO crossover. I haven’t written for this in ages, but all the new information about Simon being able to sing... oh chef’s kiss! I can’t wait to incorporate that. But first, this:

“Uhm, Simon, Baz… Blaine?”

It’s Kurt’s voice. Blaine opens the door and Kurt looks very confused and surprised when he sees the others.

“You’re- you’re back,” he says quietly. Blaine also guides Kurt inside so that he can close the door. It’s true that no one else can see this room, but it still feels like they have more privacy now.

“Look, I messed up!” Simon throws his hands in the air.

“Again,” Baz reminds him.

“I was trying out several spells that could help us on our quest to get home. One of them was an Everything in its time.”

“Which, as Snow unfortunately forgot with his pea-sized brain, creates time jumps,” Baz says angrily.

Patient no. 9 is, uh, an unexpected patient and honestly this one is still in the waiting room. I might not admit it to the hospital in the first place. I’m still wondering if I actually want to do something with this, but, uh.... Rosemary Snow my beloved:

“Papà, babbo, sono a casa!” I yell out and I close the door behind me, “Anche Ire è qui!”

I hear some commotion coming from the living room. Ire raises an eyebrow and I shrug.

Eventually, a small voice comes from the other side of the door.

“... R-Rosemary?” my papà sounds uncertain, “Is that you?”

“Si, sono io,” I say with a frown on my face. Why did he reply in English? My papà and I speak a lot of Italian when it’s the two of us, and especially if one of my friends is coming over.

I open the door and my jaw drops when I realise what I am seeing.

My papà is standing in the living room, looking like a lost dog, and he has wings.

Basically, this is an AU of Paradiso? Learn more about it here. Not sure if the Italian is correct. Sorry Marta for cheating on you with Google translate, but like I said, I’m not sure if this is going to be a thing.

And okay, let’s end this with a bang. Patient no. 10 is [REDACTED]. As in, the actual title is redacted. Everything about this fic is a secret, since it is written for the Klaine Secret Santa and any snippet might easily give away what prompt I am writing and who I am writing it for. Yet, I want to share it, since I actually started writing it today and I have clear plans for it now. Here’s the start:

“I am here because I want to be challenged.”

Everyone claps politely and [REDACTED] sits down with a satisfied grin on their face. They’re basking in the praise and [REDACTED] envies their confidence. It’s almost their time to introduce themself and they are incredibly nervous.

This is their first [REDACTED].

This is a [REDACTED].

This is [REDACTED].

Yet, they can’t help but be anxious.

What if they [REDACTED]? After all, if you had told them a year ago that [REDACTED] [REDACTED] [REDACTED], they wouldn’t have believed you.

[REDACTED], of all people, as [REDACTED]?

I’m sorry. I think I am funny. (I also changed all the gendered pronouns to they/them for this snippet. Gotta commit to the bit ✊😔.)

Thank you for reading. As always, feel free to leave flowers and to make your own WIP Wednesday Hospital. It’s always a lot of fun. Feel free to visit the previous three hospital posts here, here and here, although you will see that some patients have been discharged 🥳.

[littlej097]

Klaine Advent - Underline

Summary: All the the Anderson-Hummel children have had it with their fathers and they’re going to write a note and let their complaints be heard. 

“God, this can’t be happening again.” Penny groaned as she put her hands over her ears.

“Do they honestly think they’re being quiet?” Charlie said chiming in. She flopped over onto her stomach and put her pillow over her head.  Once again, their fathers were getting a little bit too physical and being a little too loud.

“This is the third time this month that they’ve done this.” Penny said. “I can’t sleep knowing that they’re - well, you know, doing it in there.” Suddenly there was a knock on the door and it opened. Caleb and Andrew were both standing there in their plaid pajama pants with their hair standing up on all ends.

“You guys can hear it too, right?” Caleb said, his voice rough from sleep.

“You’d have to be deaf not to hear it!” Charlie exclaimed. “We as their children should not be subjected to hearing this type of thing ever!”

“Well, what can we do about it?” Andrew replied. “They’ll get tired and settle down eventually, right?” Suddenly, they heard little feet pad into the hallway.

“What are Daddy and Papa doing in there?” Lucy asked. “They’re being so loud.” Penny looked at her little sister who was standing there in her hello kitty nightgown. She was too young to know what their fathers were doing in the bedroom. She got out of bed and went into the hallway and picked up her little sister.

“They’re just wrestling, Lucy.” Penny told her.

“Well can they not do that at midnight!” Lucy retorted. “I need my beauty sleep!”

“You and me both kiddo.” Penny said before taking Lucy back into her bedroom to tuck her back in bed.  While Penny was putting Lucy to sleep, Charlie, Caleb and Andrew were left to listen to the sounds of their fathers in the bedroom. They could hear Kurt giggling and saying “Blaine” over and over again.

“This is gross.” Charlie said. “It needs to end.”

“Well I don’t know about you but I’m not just going to go barging in there.” Caleb replied. “I value my eyesight and if I see what’s going on in there, I will go blind.”

“What if we write a note?” Andrew suggested. “Then they at least know it’s a problem.”

“It’s not my normal aggressive fashion for confronting a problem, but considering the circumstances. I’d say it’s our best option.” Charlie agreed. She got out of bed and grabbed a piece of paper. “Get in here the both of you. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” Caleb and Andrew shuffled into their sisters’ room and started to work on the note.

When it was finished, all the children went back to their respective rooms. “Okay, I’m gonna put it on the door, knock and then run. Everyone has to shut their doors.” The other kids nodded. Charlie tiptoed to her parents door, taped the note, quickly knocked and then ran back to her room.

The hallway was quiet for a moment before the bedroom door to Kurt and Blaine’s room opened. Kurt looked outside and didn’t see any of their children. Then he looked to the door. He grabbed the note and went back inside the bedroom. “What’s that?” Blaine asked.

“It’s a note from our children.” Kurt said with a smirk on his face.

“What does it say?”

“To our dearest fathers…” Kurt began. “We, all of your children, would like to take this time to inform you…” Kurt started to laugh and didn’t know if he could get through the rest of the note. He took a deep breath and then composed himself. “Okay… to inform you that we realize that you both have needs. However, you both are incredibly loud and we feel obligated to tell you that you are scaring your children. Please stop doing what you’re doing when we’re all home or at the very least BE QUIET!” Kurt and Blaine were both dying from laughter at this point. “Quiet is underlined in red permanent marker and they all signed it.” Kurt told his husband.

“This is the best thing I have ever read.” Blaine said. “We’ve properly scarred our children.”

“And they think we were actually doing something!” Kurt laughed. “All we were doing was having a pillow fight that turned into a tickle fight.”

“They don't have to know that.” Blaine replied. “Now, since our children believe that we actually were doing something, maybe we should.”

“Mr. Anderson-Hummel, you are a bad man.” Kurt smirked as he dropped the letter to the ground and joined his husband in bed. Blaine kissed him and rolled on top of him.

“Do you think you can be quiet this time?” Blaine asked seductively.

“I guess we’ll just have to find out.” Kurt replied as he pressed a kiss to Blaine’s lips and pulled him back down onto the bed. This time both men were able to stay quiet and not scar their children. That note however was something that Kurt and Blaine decided was worthy of keeping. It would be a funny story for another day when their children were older.

[notthetoothfairy]

KLAINE ADVENT 2017: LoveSick (17/24)

Summary: Kurt has SCID and can’t leave his house. Ever. Luckily, Blaine moves in next door.

A/N: A fic?!?!?! Yes, my dears, after what feels like an eternity, I finally wrote a new thing. I was going to do just one prompt for @klaineadvent but - ha ha ha, and ho ho ho - never mind, I’m writing an entire story. And I’m late. Sorry about that!

The plot is loosely based on “Everything Everything”. Saw it on the plane, didn’t end up liking it all that much but I loooved the premise for Klaine, so here it is. :D It’s not all that realistic, sorry about that, but I tried to make it as accurate as possible!

Beta: @a-simple-rainbow (who’s surprised? not us - we’re basically fandom wives)

Read: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

Read on: AO3 (to be added later)

RAW

Kissing Blaine might have been a mistake.

Not because it wasn’t good. God, it so was. Fifteen minutes later, Kurt’s mind is still reeling from the insanity that took over that moment – the open vulnerability of performing his musical’s love ballad for Blaine, the raw emotions unleashed in him when Blaine told him he loved him, the rush of adrenaline when he gave in to his instincts and just locked his lips with Blaine’s.

But the freaking out after, that part Kurt could have lived without. He himself was freaking out on the inside – he just kissed another boy, and not just anyone, but Blaine – but Blaine was freaking out on the outside – and not the good kind, because Kurt just kissed him, but the bad kind, because Kurt put his health in jeopardy.

He basically fled the room, leaving Kurt to freak out some more on his own, and Kurt’s hurt.

Emotionally, that is.

Carole is going to come in soon to check his temperature and blood values, as she does every night. Kurt feels just fine physically, but he prays there won’t be any further complications. It’s not even like he cares that much about himself right now. Deep down, he just wants to be right, because it felt right and he wants to be able to have something like this.

Maybe, if he turns out to be completely fine, they can do it again.

As if on cue, his phone beeps with a message from Blaine.

Are you okay? – B

We can’t do that again. – B

Kurt glances over to Blaine’s bedroom, and of course Blaine isn’t in there. What a coward.

Jeez, just tell me you didn’t like it and get it over with. – K

Kurt knows he’s being childish and petty but he can’t help but feel personally betrayed. If the kiss was better, maybe Blaine wouldn’t have even thought about Kurt’s condition, maybe he would have forgotten, if only for a moment.

There’s an incoming call.

“Tell me you know that’s not the reason I left,” Blaine says right away. He sounds like he’s crying. Kurt’s heart takes a leap in his chest, and he curses his emotions for being so flaky.

“I want to believe that,” he mumbles. “But you could have stayed, and you didn’t.”

“No, I couldn’t have, I had to go,” Blaine counters. “You just sang me a whole song about it. I want the glass to vanish, too, and that kiss was amazing, but- Kurt, we probably wouldn’t have stopped and your health is impor-”

“I don’t care about-”

“But I do!” Kurt jumps a little at Blaine’s aggravated tone. “I just told you I love you, Kurt! Obviously I don’t want you to die, for fuck’s sake, I-” He sniffs. “You’re okay, right?! You’re feeling well? How long does it usually take until you know for sure that-”

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, defeated. He wasn’t feeling selfish until Blaine pointed out his side of things, and rethinking the situation makes him a bit nauseated. What an awful thing to do to Blaine. He’s probably blaming himself. “I’m sorry, Blaine.”

“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have told you-”

“No, no, no. Don’t take it back,” Kurt begs. “We loved each other before we said it, and we were good, we obeyed the rules. I was the one who had to go and break it, I got too… excited, and reckless, I guess. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.” He pauses, closes his eyes. “Even though it was the best thing I’ve ever done, too.”

“Kurt.” Blaine sounds hoarse. “I just want you to be okay. I promise I’ll wait for you, until you get your transplant, until things are fine-”

“Yeah, I’m just not so sure that will ever happen.” Kurt sighs. “And I’m so tired of waiting.”

Blaine doesn’t say anything.

“Where are you?” Kurt asks when he hears children laughing on the other line.

“I went on a walk around the block,” Blaine says. “I’m at the mall now. Sorry I ran off.”

“It’s okay. This is complicated.” Kurt rolls his eyes at himself. “Way to state the obvious. I just mean-”

He breaks off there, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He doesn’t quite succeed. The prospect of them having their first fight right after their first “I love you” and their first kiss is getting to him – it’s making him feel quite queasy.

“Yeah?” Blaine asks.

“I mean…”

No, actually it’s not just in his head. He’s pretty sure he’s having a physical response to – whatever, maybe it’s something else, maybe…

“Kurt?” Blaine asks again, a bit more urgently. “Kurt?!”

Maybe this is not what he thinks it is. He doesn’t want to regret the kiss.

“Gotta go,” he says. “I’ll call you back.”

He ends the call, flings his phone on his desk and lies down on his bed.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He holds his hand up in front of his face, and realizes with a start that he’s shaking.

And it’s suddenly very hot in his room.

“Dad? Carole?” he yells, hoping that they’re within earshot. “Hey, dad?!”

Yeah, this is what he had hoped it wouldn’t be.

“Yeah?” comes the reply, thankfully.

“Help, please!” he shouts, and hears footsteps coming up the stairs right away.

He can feel the sweat on his face now, and he sits up a little bit to at least appear somewhat collected.

Oh, bad idea. He sways to the side, barely able to keep himself upright.

“Kurt? Oh my god, Kurt!” His dad is at his side right away to catch him mid-fall.

“Stupid,” is all he can mumble before he’s gently guided back onto the mattress, only vaguely aware of Carole running to his closet to get the emergency equipment.