#more like elphaba throb-

[whoreofthecentury]

[lady-divine-writes]

Klainetober one-shot “Patches” (Rated M)

Summary: Blaine brings home an unexpected tag-a-long when they get home from the pumpkin patch ... (971 words)

Notes: A re-write for the @klainetober 2020 prompt 'pumpkin patch'.

Read on AO3.

Kurt stands at the end of their bed, hands resting on hips as he indulges, examining his sexy husband, eyes traveling down Blaine's body. Kurt licks dry lips as his eyes fall past Blaine's bare chest and linger on the white cotton sheet covering his hips down to his legs, knowing without seeing that all he’s wearing underneath is a pair of purple briefs. 

Kurt’s gaze returns to Blaine’s face. He pauses, biting his lower lip to stifle a giggle at the bright pink paste caked all over his husband's tan skin.

“Tell me again,” Kurt whimpers when the urge to laugh becomes irresistible, “how you are covered in head to toe poison ivy?”

Blaine sighs, wiggling his nose when it itches, staring forlornly at the paisley print oven mitts on his hands, duct-taped around the wrists to keep him from ripping them off and scratching himself within an inch of his life.

“Kurt ...” Blaine groans, rolling dry, irritated eyes to the ceiling, “we've been over this three times already.”

“I know, I know. But the part I can’t seem to wrap my mind around is how a grown man comes home covered in poison ivy when his eight-year-old daughter and their dog don’t seem to have a single rash.”

Kurt turns his head to look back at Tracy, mimicking her Papa with her hands on her hips, almost delighting in helping get her Daddy into trouble. Kurt examines both child and dog with shrewd eyes to make sure his assessment is correct.

“Nope.” Kurt turns back to his husband with a wicked grin. “Not a rash to be seen on those two.”

“Well,” Blaine starts, watching his amused husband smirk at his predicament, “I … can’t really tell you. I don’t exactly know.”

“Tracy” - Kurt glances over his shoulder - “would you like to tell your daddy why it is that you’re not covered in poison ivy like he is?”

“Because Elphaba sensed the danger and kept me away,” she says proudly, giving her Cavalier King Charles Spaniel a scratch behind her ear.

“That’s right,” Kurt coos, his voice dripping condescension. “That means that you, Blaine Ander-Hummel, have less common sense than a dog.”

“To be fair, dogs are very intelligent,” Blaine retorts.

Kurt shakes his head. “Okay, well, there’s nothing much more I can do for you. You have your calamine lotion open and ready to be applied, you have a Big Gulp of Coca-Cola, and …” Kurt grabs the remote for the TV off the bedside table and puts it on the sheet beside Blaine’s left oven mitt “… now you can watch your programs.” Kurt winks, smiling sunnily. Blaine frowns, grimacing when the calamine lotion cracks again right below his eyes. He purses his lips and blows a stream of air up to try and dislodge a flake from his eyelid. He finally gives in and brushes it away with the rounded dome of the oversized mitt.

“I’m taking Tracy out for ice-cream as a reward for her restraint. For not running halfcocked, arms waving wildly over her head, cheering about the Great Pumpkin, then sliding straight into a patch of poison ivy ... like her father did.”

Tracy leaps in the air and cheers, thrilled at the promise of a fudge-dipped soft-serve cone, running off with Elphaba on her heels to put on her sneakers. Kurt’s eyes follow her out the door, then his gaze turns back to Blaine, lying helpless on the bed.

“Do you know what this reminds me of?” Kurt purrs, sliding up slowly, trailing light fingers over the sheet, fingertips barely brushing Blaine’s skin.

“W-what?” Blaine asks, eyes focused on where Kurt’s fingers dance above the sheet in little circles to and fro without making contact.

“Do you remember that blessed time before we had a little girl and a dog? When we could fuck in the living room in the middle of the day …?” Kurt leans over, his lips traveling an inch above Blaine’s chest, breath tickling his skin, making the hairs on his arms stand on end (or try to since they are effectively plastered down with calamine lotion). “I used to tie you to the bed,” Kurt whispers in a husky, hungry voice, watching the bulge beneath the white sheet grow as he speaks in soft tones against Blaine’s cheek. “I sucked you off till you couldn’t see straight …” He lets a single finger tease the head of Blaine’s cock through the sheet. “I licked you and teased you, kept you on the edge of cumming all night long … and you used to call me Master?”

Blaine moans into Kurt’s mouth where it hovers, lips parted, within a kissing distance of his own.

“Yes?” Blaine sighs, waiting for Kurt to put him out of his misery. It would only take a minute. Blaine doesn't have a rash anywhere near his cock. Tracy can definitely wait in her room for a few minutes.

Or seconds.

Kurt grins wide, pulling away slowly, feeling Blaine’s cock throb once beneath his fingers as he steps back to view his handiwork - his ridiculous husband, completely helpless to do anything to relieve the pressure. “Good to know.” Kurt takes a step backward toward the door. "I’ll just let you think about that while we’re out. Consider the true consequences of your actions."

Blaine suddenly realizes that Kurt is leaving, and his eyes widen with panic over being abandoned in this particular position.

“Wait … wait, Kurt …” Blaine looks down his body at his now rock-hard cock straining against his briefs. 

Kurt chuckles as he disappears out the door. 

“Kurt?” Blaine calls after him. “Kurt? Help me, Kurt!”

“Don’t worry,” Kurt yells from the front door. “I’ll bring home something to cool you off. See you in an hour!”

[freddiesaysalright]

Hi! For the HallowQueen could I please request something smutty with D2 L15 with Lucy? Thank you so much! I love your writings!

Thanks love! Hope you enjoy!

D2 Isn’t a couples costume kinda corny? L15 Your/their house

“Baby!” Lucy cried as she came into your shared bedroom, looking excited. “I’ve got the perfect costume idea for us!”

You looked up from your book. “What is it?”

“We can go as Glinda and Elphaba!” she said. “I’d be Glinda and you could be Elphaba.”

You put your book on your nightstand. “Isn’t a couples costume kinda corny?”

She blinked. “It’s not really a couple,” she said. “Just coordinated. Have you actually seen Wicked?”

“No,” you laughed. “So now I’m even less sure of the idea.”

She crawled onto the bed beside you, bringing her lips to your ear. 

“What if I make it worth your while?” she teased. “Think about how pretty I’ll look in that dress.”

You sighed as she pressed her lips to your neck.

“I think you’ll look even prettier out of it,” you shot back.

You felt her smirk against your skin. “Naughty girl.”

You took a hold of her hair and gently tugged her toward you, claiming her lips with yours. You kissed her deeply. Her lips were soft and tasted like the strawberry lip balm she always wore.

“What’s this about making it worth my while?” you wondered.

She smirked again, and shimmied down so she was laying between your legs. She kissed a hot trail up your thigh and your breath hitched in your throat when she neared your center. You were already dampening your pajama shorts. She kissed you through them and you moaned out.

“So wet already, baby,” she teased. 

Agonizingly slow, she put her finger in the waistband and tugged them down your legs. She gasped delightedly when she saw you had nothing on beneath them.

“You really are a naughty girl,” she giggled. 

“Lucy…” you sighed.

She stuck two fingers in your mouth. “Suck.”

You did, getting her fingers nice and wet. She pulled them out with a soft pop before bringing them directly to your clit, rubbing soft, slow circles on your sensitive nub. You whined.

“More, baby,” you pleaded.

She increased the pressure and speed. You bucked into her hand.

“Still need more?” she wondered. “Want my mouth, beautiful?”

“P-please!”

She lowered her face between your legs, your pussy now soaked and throbbing for her. She ran her tongue from your entrance to your clit, which she wrapped her lips around and sucked on. You threw your head back into your pillow as she began going down on you. High breathy moans escaped your throat. Lucy knew exactly what she was doing with her lips and tongue, alternating between sucking, kissing, and circling your clit. When she pushed two fingers inside you, you clenched hard around them.

She found your g-spot and massaged it a moment before beginning to pump you with her fingers. Your hips jerked up each time she hit it and would suck hard on your clit. You looked down at her, saw her eyes blown with lust as she drove you wild, and you nearly finished.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close,” you warned.

Then, she stopped everything, removing her mouth and hand. You nearly screamed.

“Don’t throw a tantrum just yet,” she said. “Just say we can go as Glinda and Elphaba, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Please!” you begged.

“You’ve heard my conditions,” she returned, running her wet finger up and down your trembling thigh.

“Okay, okay, we can go as the witches!” you cried. “Please, baby, don’t stop!”

She beamed and then returned to your throbbing cunt. You sighed heavily with relief as she resumed exactly as she was before. You laced your fingers in her hair just to be sure. Finally, with one last thrust, you finished around her fingers. You rode it out against her face until your legs stopped shaking.

She giggled and crawled up to pull you into her arms. She kissed your forehead.

“That was a dirty trick, wasn’t it?” she joked.

“Oh, it was dirty alright,” you returned.

“You’re really okay with my costume choice?” she wondered.

“You fuck me like that, I’ll do whatever you want,” you assured her. “Now, how about I take care of you now?”

[fleetling]

stream of conscious thoughts while watching the filmed live on Broadway 1989  "Into The Woods"

Act I

 “Once upon a time...”

The ascending dododo before the “you wish  to go to the festival” always is like a thrill/chill for me because it was my entrance.

 Florinda and Lucinda’s extremely snatched waists. Stepmother establishing the fan work that is to come. Thank you Joy Franz. *sings* That’s what i like that’s what i like.

the ahahahaah (before “quick little birds”) as Cinderella moves the pot around has some Elphaba elekanamun namen namen atuh atuh elkanamun energy.

“it’s the witch from next door” and "baking accident" gets me every time.

 Stepmother’s back giving me what i love, fan work. See just before “fools of the festival”. 

Also just realizing now how I really like Lauren Mitchell’s voice. 

 The baker's little green hat . So silly. So fitting.

Glide Milky White, glide.

 Forgot there was a revolve. Remembered at “Hello Little Girl”.

We don’t talk about Joanna Gleason's comedic timing enough. Or we talk about it a lot but it is still not enough. Example, "tell ‘im"

Ooh Red’s got some pearls.

Also the sleeves on Little Red’s dress!

Kim Crosby’s point and on “and with a cow”.

- “He’s undoing a spell” - “Oh?” -“Oh, yes” -“Oooh” Theeeee best

 For me,  “A Very Nice Prince” must/should be forshadow-y. Even if the audience doesn’t realize it. Like the Baker’s Wife’s longing. Cinderella’s uncertainty/indifference/meh-ness.

Actually Baker's wife’s sleeves are good/a want as well.

 “First Midnight” bringing in more Stepmother fan-work.

 I die for the poses when they sing “Into the Woods”. Structural. Especially, Kim Crosby’s on the second one.

-“Actually, I have no children.”  -“That's okay too”  Yes it is!

Kim Crosby is good at slipping

Also the genius when Joanna Gleason is sidling up to Cinderella and puts her ballgown’s skirt over her lap and contemplates it.It’s something so small but so effective and telling about the Baker’s Wife’s other less direct “I wish”.

“It Takes Two” is sweet when it’s performed. Though, I really dislike the lyrics “safe at home with our beautiful prize”. Somehing about it is. I find it almost too possessive (?). Or maybe it’s just I can’t relate to wanting a child.

Hen slides in.

lol Milky White toppled.

Transformation reveal!

Also I die for the tiers on the bustle!

And the pose on  “Youth and beauty”

Giving Florinda the hanky when cutting the toe.

Robert Westenberg  leap frogging going on.

“Ever After” is actually one of my favourites. Strings being throb-y!

Skippy dancing

lol Bernadette when she looks so over it from “Unhappy now” and then pushes the sisters. Actually, that whole little section.

Also I want a necklace with a long chain like hers now.

I enjoy the little kicks.

Act II

Jack's bowl cut like what/why? Then again a bowlcut does seem bourgeois.

“Thank you birds”

Rapunzel really did get the worst/worst deal.

The last time the Baker and Baker’s Wife see each other is having fought. And that (is one of the ways that) makes the Baker’s Wife’s death even sadder.

But at least before the Bakers Wife dies she does realize what she has (”a Baker”) and loves (a baker).

And the Baker acknowledges that she was the one who made things happen.

Birds snitching on the Prince

Danielle Ferland’s tears streaming

“I wish -”  DUN

[guileheroine]

Gelphie, baisemain!!

baisemain -  a kiss on the hand

Galinda’s brow crumples together as she raises her wand again; Elphaba’s patience skids further down its steep slope.

“Flow!” Galinda cries, and Elphaba’s ears seize again at the splinterous sound. The pearl coloured pen continues to lay still on the cliff edge of Elphaba’s rudely interrupted sentence. She lifts it and scratches out her temper, more angry colourless indents on the page. Stabs Galinda with a glare.

She wants to go back to her quill and ink spring. However, Galinda is insistent that her intricated friendship six-monthiversary-whatever gift to Elphaba of a mechanical pen will be brought back to life any moment. She looks up to her imploringly, the confidence running away from her every second; eyes zigging about like she doesn’t know whether to chase it or this fruitless task, unsure which will satisfy er friend better. Her own textbook waits at her elbow with an impatient waver of the front cover.

“Elphie, just wait -” Galinda’s eyes slit in concentration now. Elphaba decides to give her the benefit of one more doubt.

“Flow!” Galinda’s voice and garish wand both take too much of their modest desk space up - Elphaba has to swerve this time to save her nose. Then she brings her fist with the pen in it down hard onto the paper and pierces through it without spilling a drop of ink again; flops onto it.

Scoff-sigh. “It’s not going to work, just let me -”

“Flooow! FLOW!”

“Ow - !”

Elphaba’s heart stutters. Before she can tell whether it’s ink or blood on her fingers the pen clatters back onto the desk with a neat spray of the evidence of its attack - her vision blurs before her hand, burning from a bone-deep pinch -

“Elphie!” Galinda cries, drops her wand and it’s like all its magic shoots into her spine and makes it just as stick straight. Her hand cringes in the air before clasping Elphaba’s livid one tightly. “I’m so sorry -” and she brings it up to her mouth instantly - puckered in worry or a kiss. 

Elphaba’s hand throbs. A kiss. The heat where the pen stabbed Elphaba spreads all over and up her forearm.

And it’s ink, not blood.

Galinda drops her hand, winces and catches it gently again in the cup of her palm before it hits the desk.

“I thought - aquakinesis - it was only supposed to move the ink!”

For her sake, Elphaba manages to unscrew her dumbstruck painstruck block of a face. “It’s- it’s fine,” she says shortly. “Will you drop it now?”

Galinda, flushed, immediately tosses the unwitting weapon behind her shoulder.

send me a ship & a prompt!

[a-reading-journal]

Such silly things, children - and so embarrassing - because they keep changing themselves out of shame, out of a need to be loved or something. While animals are born who they are, accept it, and that is that. They live with greater peace than people do.

She felt in herself a jolt of pleasurable expectation over the thought of approaching the Scrow. Along with so much else, she had forgotten what pleasurable expectation was. As night fell, everyone seemed more alert, out of fear and excitement. The skies throbbed with turquoise, even at midnight. Starlight and comet tails burned the tips of endless grass below into a hammered silver. Like thousands of tapers in the chapel, just blown out but still glowing. 234

Planning a reread of the whole quartet back-to-back, each book of which I’ve only read once. I read Wicked in high school after discovering and falling in love with the musical. I can't believe how much sex is in it, most probably went over my head at the time. Maguire’s imagination is incredible, producing a world very much like our own but different enough to be fantastic. He’s adjusted everything from religion, language, botany, biology, philosophy, geography, and politics. I also applaud him for queering it up back in '95 - from implications between Elphaba and Glinda or explicit admission from Frexspar regarding his affair with Turtle Heart - but can't believe that he reduces his two explicitly gay characters to mere stereotypes: oversexed or sexless. Tibbett gets introduced the world of sex young, while the characters are at school studying, only to fall off the radar until Elphaba encounters him dying and riddled with disease in the mauntery. Crope on the other hand becomes a sidepiece to Glinda, growing a paunch, living on his own, trying his hand at art, and never getting a word in the conversation. What happens to him is unknown after Fiyero leaves Glinda and Crope at lunch.

Odd that I read this novel after discovering and loving the musical, but having read it again I now find that the musical is just plain bad. The story presented here is much more expansive and dark, while the musical is saccharine.

Looking forward to reading Son of A Witch, which I remember liking more than Wicked itself, the ending having been seared in my mind for years.

[wickedlyqueer]

This bit in Out of Oz gave me so many feels I had to write a fluffy drabble about it.

For a moment, or ten, she was back in Shiz, darting up some alley of flowering quinces, racing Elphaba to the fountain at the back of the quad. Elphaba was glowing with the effort—glowing emerald!—and Glinda, in her dream, was almost absent to herself, caught up in admiring her friend.

Glinda was caught between reality and daydreams. The world around her a drowsing dim, while other parts of that world only seemed to be heightened. Like the spring sun warming her skin, and the gentle breeze rustling the leaves. She could hear the water of the Suicide Canal and feel the soft fabric of the blanket she was lying on. And Elphaba. 

More than ever before, Glinda’s world heightened around Elphaba. While the rest of the charmed circle had scattered around after their afternoon picnic, Elphaba stayed behind, her nose already in a book.

What else could Glinda have done but stay behind too? If she had followed the boys, she wouldn’t be near Elphaba. The thought itself was appalling.

Being left alone with Elphaba however, was a completely different thrill. In the privacy of their room they had grown closer, but in the outside world they hadn’t been as daring. Today Glinda had decided, she’d change that too. Mostly because she couldn’t lie on this blanket and not snuggle up to Elphaba.

It had started out slow. She didn’t want to show her hand immediately after all! She laid down at a reasonable distance, and pretended to fall asleep. Every time Glinda stirred, she made sure to move closer towards Elphaba. Nobody could object to the actions of an unconscious person, Glinda reasoned.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of wriggling closer, Glinda had achieved her goal. She was closer to Elphaba than she had ever dared before. And they were outside. That was the most exciting aspect of it all.

She felt the rise and fall of Elphaba’s breath. The rough fabric of her dress against her skin. The sound of pages being turned. The sensations were addicting.

Elphaba shifted slightly, and an arm wrapped around Glinda’s shoulder. The gesture made her heart boom like crazy inside her chest. For the first time Glinda hoped Elphaba wasn’t paying her too close attention, because her heart rate would give her away in an instance.

Leaves. Water. Blanket. Elphaba. Elphaba. Elphaba.

She must’ve actually fallen asleep at last, because when Elphaba spoke up she was disrupted out of something, even though she did not know what.

"Glinda?" Elphaba stroked her fingertips. "We ought to head back to Crage Hall now."

As a response she nestled closer. "Hmm, one more moment."

"One more moment and Nanny will have my head. The sun is nearly gone."

Not quite believing her, Glinda opened her eyes. Elphaba was right. “Lurline, time flies.”

They gathered their stuff and headed back. Instead of the expected dash back to their room, they walked surprisingly slow. Like a stroll over campus in an intimate silence. Just the two of them. Their hands not quite touching, but still close enough that it almost felt like they were holding hands.

“As much as I enjoy this, and I do enjoy this,” Elphaba emphasized. “We really need to make a run for it now.”

“I do not run, my dearest Elphie.”

“To the fountain,” Elphaba negotiated. “Being seen unescorted there will be less scandalous.”

“You go unescorted all the time.”

“It’s not my reputation I’m worried about.”

She much rather walk next to Elphaba as long as possible, scandalous reputation be damned. But she was looking out for her, and wasn’t that sweet in its own way?

“Fine. To the fountain.”

Elphaba smirked. “Race you?”

“What? No - HEY!”

Elphaba had launched into a sprint, leaving Glinda behind. She catched up easily, even though she was running in heels and the cobbled path made it tricky not to slip. Elphaba wasn’t trying to let her win per se, just running at a pace they both could manage.

The alley they went through had blossom hanging from the walls. With the warm evening glow, and Elphaba so very near her, Glinda felt like she was floating. No girl was luckier than she was. Nothing could stop her now. Glinda felt invincible. The energy pouring through her veins made her want to run even faster. 

These damned heels! Glinda thought. The boots Elphaba was wearing gave her too much of an advantage. In a swift motion, Glinda took off her heels and ran past Elphaba, barefoot.

"How -"

Glinda had to bite back a smile at how stunned she sounded. The fountain came into sight. It gave her enough motivation to keep running despite her growing fatigue. She jumped onto the ledge of the fountain and turned around, her arms spread out in euphoria.

Elphaba came out of the alley, laughing heartedly at the sight. The throbbing pain in Glinda’s feet? It was worth it. She’d run twenty laps around campus if it would make Elphaba look as if she had forgotten every sorrow in the world.

“Glad you could join,” Glinda panted.

On the stone ledge, Glinda was a bit taller. She put her hands on Elphaba’s shoulders and they both took a moment to catch their breath.

“You - You,” Elphaba stammered out in awe. She wrapped her arms around Glinda’s waist. “You never fail to surprise me, my dear.”

Elphaba was glowing and it was the most beautiful sight Glinda had ever seen. She loved her. That much she already knew, but now she realized she would love her every day, for the rest of her life.

Overwhelmed by this sudden realization, Glinda quickly scanned the square. When she found nobody around, she moved closer and planted a kiss on Elphaba's cheek.

Elphaba beamed, and Glinda had to resist the urge to shower her in more kisses, if only so she could see that precious smile again.

Elphaba lifted her up and she let out a shriek of pure joy. Elphaba held her close and twirled her around. It made Glinda dizzy, though not necessarily from the spinning. It was the fluttering in her stomach, telling her to never let go of Elphaba. To hold her close, like she was holding onto her right now. Because to love someone so deeply, so simply, and so selflessly as she did Elphaba. To be allowed to love Elphaba like she did, to have their love be a reality, was better than any dream she could ever wish for.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klainetober one-shot - “A-Maze-ing” (Rated PG)

Summary: Blaine convinces Kurt to take their daughter to a corn maze, saying it'll be fun. It becomes less than fun when they get separated, and Blaine is never seen again ...

Not really. But that's what Kurt intends on telling everyone after he murders him. (1346 words)

Notes: A re-write for the @klainetober 2020 prompt 'corn maze'.

Read on AO3.

'Let's go to the corn maze! Blaine said. It'll be fun! Blaine said. Like being back in Ohio!' 

"We left Ohio for a reason, Blaine!" Kurt shakes his head and checks his watch. The minute hand has barely moved since the last time he checked, so he checks the time on his phone. Nope, his watch is right. That and he still has no bars. What the heck would they have running at a corn maze that could be blocking his data? He looks over at his exhausted daughter cradling an equally exhausted dog in her arms and sighs. "Yup ..." He pulls the edges of his coat closed and wraps his arms around himself "... we're having the time of our lives."

It’s been over 45 minutes.

When they got there, the sun had just barely started to sink into the horizon.

But now, it's darker than dark outside.

If it weren't for the flood lights overhead, they would be plunged into blackness.

Kurt walks along the outer row of corn stalks with daughter Tracy and their dog, Elphaba, in tow, peeking through the gaps between the plants in search of his husband.

“Where is he, Papa?” the little girl asks as she shadows her father’s footsteps.

Kurt rises up on his tiptoes to try and see over the hedge of corn. “I don’t know, Tracy.” 

“Do you think he’s going to be much longer? Because I’m starting to get hungry.”

“I know, I know.” Kurt stops walking when his right heel starts to throb. He's been pacing back and forth so much, he's about to wear a hole in the soles of his Timberlands. He breathes in through his nose and exhales his frustration into the cool night air. 

"Do you think we should go back inside and look for him?" Tracy asks as her father leads her back to the entrance of the maze. 

"No. With our luck, we'll keep crossing paths and never bump into one another." As it is, knowing Blaine, he's probably been peeking his head out, expecting to see them there waiting for him, and when he doesn't see them, ducks back in to search for them.

At least, Kurt hopes that's how it's playing out.

A grown man lost in a corn maze built for kids for close to an hour would be too embarrassing for Kurt to contend with.

Father and daughter wait there a moment, watching as kids and parents race in and out with ease. But when - after fifteen minutes! - they see no sign of Blaine, Kurt goes back to pacing along the outer wall in hopes of catching a glimpse of his husband's curly hair.

Kurt is about to ask the attendant at the front entrance for help when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He's relieved but still rolls his eyes, answering it without even checking the incoming number.

Blaine starts talking before Kurt can say, "Hi."

“You know, if you wanted to get rid of me, divorce is a completely viable option. You didn’t have to abandon me in a field in the middle of nowhere to die.”

“No way! I married you before you became a big, successful songwriter. I have every intention of sticking this marriage out and sucking you dry.” Kurt chuckles when his husband whimpers at the double entendre. “Besides, we’re in a mall parking lot! We’re hardly in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one trapped in the corn maze of death. Are you sure that this isn’t a crop circle posing as a corn maze, and I’ve been transported to an alien ship? That might explain why my service is so spotty.”

“I would like to think that a race of hyper-intelligent alien beings would have a better plan for world domination than to construct a crop circle outside a Target. Plus, they'd have 5G at least." Kurt sees Tracy mime in front of him - mouth open, pointing inside, and then rubbing her tummy with a suffering expression on her face. Drama Queen. Just like her father. "Look, could you hurry it up? Some of us are wasting away out here.”

“What’s the goal of this again?” Blaine continues as he stomps through three inches of hay in search of the exit. “Am I trying to find a port key, or do I have to fight a Minotaur …?”

“I don’t understand! Tracy and I made it in and out in ten minutes!” A small mob of kids comes around the corner, cheering, and Kurt can’t help giggling. He has seen the same three kids go in and out of the maze numerous times since Blaine has been lost, and they're going in again.

“Yeah, well, you guys have the dog,” Blaine argues.

“Don’t give me that!” Kurt says, keeping an eye on Tracy to make sure she doesn’t misinterpret his and Blaine’s banter as fighting. No reason to ruin this evening any more than it has been already. “You didn’t come with us because you said bringing Elphaba along was cheating! You wanted to make it through the maze using your manly instincts. F.Y.I., it’s not as if Elphaba is a search-and-rescue dog. She's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel with sensitive paws. The hay didn't play nice with her feet. We had to carry her most of the way. She didn’t help us out of the maze one bit!”

“But …” Blaine starts with a defense already in mind.

“And …” Kurt rails on without giving him a chance as his stomach twists and then releases a famished growl, “might I remind you that your phone has GPS? If you found a spot where you could call me, you could have been out of there ages ago!”

“Well, if I … wait …” Blaine pauses. “Say that again?”

“Say what …?”

“Kurt?” Kurt hears Blaine’s voice inside the maze nearby without the use of his phone. “Is that … where are you?”

“I can’t exactly give you latitude and longitude …”

“Just … hold up your hand and wave,” Blaine groans, this time loud enough that Kurt knows he’s hearing him from a few feet away.

Kurt raises his hand and waves it in the air. “Hello!” he calls out with the phone pulled away from his ear. “Here I am! Yoo-hoo!”

The corn stalks in front of him begin to shudder, a shhhhhhick sound starting from somewhere inside. The sound gets louder as another, closer row of corn stalks make the same rustling sound. The stalks right in front of him start to quake wildly, and from within, he hears a pained expletive. A leg clad in dark blue denim and an arm wearing a familiar Burberry coat sleeve break through, followed by another leg and arm, then a head, until the whole of Blaine Anderson-Hummel has stumbled from the maze, his hair and clothes a mess of dried corn stalk litter, leaving a human-shaped hole in the wall.

Kurt slow claps, smirking at his disheveled husband.

“And that wasn’t cheating?” Kurt asks while Blaine dusts plant debris from his clothes.

“No,” Blaine says. “That was intelligent planning.”

“What!?” Kurt looks at the maze and back at Blaine with an incredulous expression. “How do you figure that?”

“Well” - Blaine looks left and right to see if anyone from All-Season Productions has yet caught on to the fact that he destroyed part of their maze - “a huge enclosure made entirely of dry, flammable materials with only one entrance and one exit? No, see, that’s a safety code violation.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow and side-eyes the wall.

“So, this is …?” He gestures to the hole, leaving his sentence open for an explanation.

“Pfft!” Blaine blows a piece of stalk off his lip before he answers. “It’s a fire exit.”

Kurt drops his head in exasperation and reaches out a hand for Tracy.

“You see,” Kurt says, grabbing hold of his daughter and leading her away from the compromised maze, “this is why we can’t take you anywhere.”