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#the music starts fading to dick waking up to this song playing on his alarm or w/e
rockingthegraveyard · 2 months
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Have the sudden urge to learn how to write up a movie script so I can show the world my vision of a Nightwing movie about Dick having a midlife crisis.
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thaliagrayce · 4 years
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@ariihen​ absolutely. consider yourself destroyed. This is a little lighter on the jasico than most of my stuff, but like... I had fun and it’s still homestuck au? I hope you like it anyway. I love a lot of parts of homestuck but honestly the beginning, when they were trying to figure out this weird fucking game, was one of my favorites
-- gracefulArgonaut [GA] began pestering tumultuousTartarus [TT] at 16:13 --
GA: Im Still Supposed To Be Bullying You Right Now Because Apparently That’s What Were Supposed To Do 
GA: But Ive Been Watching You For An Hour Now And You’ve Been Listening To The Same Song And Staring At The Corner The Entire Time
GA: Are You
GA: Are You Okay?
Nico blinked down at the new messages from gracefulArgonaut, squinting a little to try and read the light blue letters against the white backdrop of pesterChum. It was confusing for a number of reasons, most of which he didn’t want to touch. It was the first time GA had contacted him, but far from the first time he’d been approached by random hostile strangers on pesterChum. Despite the influx of other, much meaner anonymous messages he’s gotten within the past year, this one unsettled him more than most.
He glanced at his computer speakers, which were playing Wake Me Up When September Ends for—he glanced at the screen, which had his music history open—the sixteenth time in a row. He had, in fact, been zoning out in the direction of the corner for almost the entire time. gracefulArgonaut or whatever had no way of knowing that. He looked down at the messages again, chewing on his bottom lip. Responding to these trolls wasn’t productive, he knew that from experience, but that was… super specific.
The last note faded away, bleeding into the intro again. Seventeen times. He unfolded his legs from the position he had been sitting on his bed in, wincing at the twinge in his knees and shaking the numbness out of them as best he could, and moved to his desk chair. Under the window that was playing his music was a pop-up from the Sburb beta. It had taken a while (or maybe he just hadn’t noticed it for a while), but the server application had finished installing.
Instead of sending anything back to GA, he switched to a different chat.
-- tumultuousTartarus [TT] began pestering effluentBlade [EB] at 16:15 --
TT: Okay.
TT: I have the option to start a server now and I’m going to do that.
TT: You only have to join when I send you the invite, it shouldn’t be too difficult on your end.
He set up the server and tried to connect, but the client server was unresponsive. He twisted his skull ring around his finger and stared at the screen. Another few messages from GA came in, but he ignored them.
-- [TT] [EB] --
TT: You there?
TT: Percy?
EB: oh yeah lol I’m here, I just had to do something for my mom
EB: it’s good, got it, hitting enter now
Another message from GA pinged in the background. They were persistent, usually the trolls would ignore him after he disappeared for too long. He glanced at the media player again. Wake Me Up When September Ends was on its seventeenth and a half playthrough. Even if they were just making a scarily accurate guess, GA might have had a point. It was a good song, but it was also without doubt his Depression Song. He hovered his mouse over the icon at the bottom of the screen, considering.
The Sburb window suddenly changed from the black background and green text that he had been seeing for an hour to a loading screen, and his speakers started pumping out instrumental music over top of his emopunk. He paused Green Day, fighting a smile. Finally.
-- [TT] [EB] --
EB: oh shit dude, false alarm, mom needs me again
EB: I’ll be back in five minutes, don’t worry
Nico let out a groan and leaned back in his chair, letting his head flop back against the headrest. He’d been wanting to play this game for months, but apparently he wouldn’t ever be able to. Percy, as usual, had better things to do than spend time with him. Thalia was still pretending that she was too cool to want to play in some misguided attempt to… establish dominance in their group? Impress all of them with her apathy? Make sure her mother was just as miserable as she was? Nico didn’t know, and he didn’t have the patience to try to dismantle whatever was going on in her brain now. She wanted to play somewhere in there, and she would eventually. That’s what mattered to Nico. Annabeth was… Nico didn’t actually know where she was now, but she wasn’t responding to messages. As usual. Probably knee-deep in some project, hyperfocusing so hard that she forgot to blink for five minutes.
At least Percy tried connecting before he left. The loading music was kind of nice, too. Maybe Percy didn’t actually have to be there in order for Nico to play.
There was another ping from GA. Nico bit his lip. It couldn’t be any more unsettling than the initial messages had been, right? He opened the chat.
- - [GA] [TT] - -
GA: I See Youve Moved To A More Comfortable Sitting Location
GA: Good
GA: That Couldnt Have Been Good For Your Back
GA: Or Your Legs
GA: Or Your Mental Health Probably
GA: I Also See That You Are Ignoring Me
GA: Which I Should Have Expected
GA: I Did Explicitly State That I Was Supposed To Bully You
TT: You know, the whole telling me what I’m doing in the moment that I’m doing it thing is a little bit creepier than your group’s usual brand of cyberbullying, but the rest of your approach could really use some work in the hostility department.
TT: Part of your strategy? Be nice, but like, really weird about it? I admit, that might be effective, if you actually planned it out. Make me feel as uncomfortable with my friendships as I do with the rest of you.
TT: Who, apparently, all know each other and have banded together in an organized campaign against myself and my friends?
GA: Oh! Youre Here
GA: Uh
GA: I Kind Of Have A Viewport That Lets Me See The Four Of You?
GA: Mine Is Focused On You At The Moment
GA: I Explained This To You Last Time
TT: Did you, now?
GA: Well
GA: Last Time From My Perspective
GA: Probably It Will Be Next Time From Your Standpoint
GA: Anyway
GA: Im Glad That You Seem To Be More Responsive Now
GA: Youre
GA: Different Than I Expected
GA: And Different Than You Were Before?
Behind pesterChum, the window for Sburb changed. Nico could see… Percy’s bedroom? Strange. He shot a quick message to gracefulArgonaut.
- - [GA] [TT] - -
TT: As fascinating as that avenue of conversation would be to explore, I have better things to do now.
TT: How about you stop creeping on my life and leave me alone? Worth consideration. Might be a more effective way of bullying me, leave me in confusion.
GA: That Certainly Is A Strategy
GA: I Confess That Im Not Very Good At Bullying Though
GA: And You Fascinate Me
GA: I Think I Would Like To Be Friends Actually
TT: Well, try again later, I guess. As I said, I have better things to do now.
He exited the chat, but didn’t log out of pesterChum entirely. Hopefully, Percy would be back soon. Nico could see him in his room, dicking around with a foam sword. Nico scrolled through Percy’s apartment until he was in an uninhabited room—the bathroom. Perfect. He hit the select button and clicked the bathtub. He could worry about GA later, it was time to learn these controls right now.
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petersvibes · 7 years
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never can say goodbye pt. 2 - peter parker
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anonymous asked:
Hey! Can I request a Peter P. Imagine where he and y/n where bff and one day they got into a huge fight because he was always late and she didn’t knew why (because of his spidey duty) and Peter said smth in the fight that made y/n cry and run away and then she didn’t talked to him for 3 weeks and you can make a fluffy end? Thank u❤❤❤❤❤❤
description: the aftermath of y/n’s fight with peter. (platonic relationship through and through) (see pt. 1)
song: never can say goodbye - the jackson 5
pairing: peter parker x fem!reader
warnings: language
author’s note: i wasn’t gonna write a part two to this but whatever, might as well. i made this much more intense than i think the anon requested but like... that’s how i live my life! if i forgot to tag you i’m sorry and i hate myself 
It takes one look from your mother the following morning to know her child is heartbroken. 
For you, however, it feels less like your heart is shattered, and more like it has been cut out of your chest with a dull knife. You wake up with a throbbing head and aching all over your body, Peter’s words looping over and over; you don’t mean anything to me anymore. You don’t mean anything to me anymore. You don’t mean anything to me anymore. 
Even though you don’t speak about what happened, you’re allowed to stay home on Monday in an effort to emotionally recover. In that time, your blankets encompass you, but you’re feel cold and unfeeling, unable to even produce tears from the shock alone. It’s probably unhealthy for you sit in silence, alone with your own self deprecating thoughts, but to lose the one person you care about the most in such an emotionally assaulting way is completely traumatic. 
You become slightly alarmed on Monday night, when your physical health deteriorates quicker than your psyche Unprovoked, your mother finds that you’ve developed a 101 fever, cold sweats and a migraine. She gives you a look of sympathy that you don’t return with any form of reassurance of your wellbeing and you stay home the next day. 
You’re not at school Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and by Thursday, Peter’s out of his mind. The first few days, he had to physically restrain himself from busting in through your window to make sure you’re alive. Much to Ned’s distain, (they had an environmental science project due that Friday) Peter’s absentminded, uncontrollably anxious. He begs both Ned and Michelle to call you, as juvenile as it is, but you don't answer. It’s after 40 missed calls that he fully grasps how painfully final his last words to you were, and on Thursday night, he breaks. 
Peter lands on your fire escape, dressed in his normal clothes, (right now, his Spider-Man outfit didn’t seem right to wear) but to his dismay, your window is locked for the first time in the history of your friendship. Your curtains are drawn shut and from what he can tell, the only thing illuminating your room is probably your coconut breeze candle. He groans, leaning his head on the coolness of your window and gently placing his palm on the condensation. He’s gone almost an entire week trying to convince himself it was for your own good, that now you wouldn’t get hurt because of him. He rather himself be the villain of your story than for you to even get a glimpse of the ones that haunt his nightmares. 
He slides down your window, landing in a heap on the grates of the fire escape, tears flowing freely down his ice cold cheeks. If he weren’t so damn cold he would sob right here, right where you can hear and see if you poke your head out the window, but he’s silent. He wishes you would just pop your head out, forgive him for what he’s done, but he knows you won’t. Inside, you’re sitting right below the sill of your window, praying he won’t come in. 
Friday morning, your fever has long since broken and your headache has alleviated, and at your mother’s command you’re walking into your calculus class. You receive confused looks and giggling whispers from kids in your class, but you pay them no mind, immediately making eye contact with Michelle and Peter, your empty seat between them taunting you. His expression is hard enough that you wince and shuffle across the room, sitting in the back corner with one of the girls in your art class. For the entirety of class, your teacher’s words fade into mere ambiance and you’re thinking about Peter, again. 
But this time, it’s different. You no longer feel on the verge of tears, but you start to fill with an unprecedented rage. He didn’t know up. He lied, over and over. Your best friend treated you like a you were an idiotic stranger, and when you gave him the opportunity to come clean, he spat in your face. You were willing to do anything for him and he abandoned you. 
You hold that anger for three hours, through two math classes and with not even one bit of acknowledgement from him. At lunch, you sit at the far end of the same lunch table you did only a week ago, your eyes transfixed on Peter’s seemingly satisfied demeanor. Michelle sits across from you, and after two illustrations of works she titles, “(Y/N) in Crisis”, she puts her pen down and folds her hands, leaning across the table. 
“If looks could kill, he’d be dead a million times over.” She remarks, obnoxiously biting into one of your chips. “If you kill him I won’t help you dump the body. I have to get into college.” 
You finally break your glare and look at her, with softer eyes that still hold some ice in them. “He’s a dick.” You say, folding your arms over your chest. “A spineless, selfish, unpalatable bast-”
“Okay,” Michelle says, jokingly grabbing your tense shoulders. “You are an angry, angry gal.” She nods, surveying you pensively. “I like it, I do. But you haven’t exactly told me why you want to bury Parker’s body in an undisclosed location?” 
“He would have rather died than be honest with me,” You say, shaking your head at the thought of it. “And when he was, he said that I meant nothing to him anymore. So yeah, I’m a tad steamed.”
Michelle nods, chewing on her bottom lip. “And you believed him?” 
Your eyes narrow, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
She leans in, folding her hands together and tilting her head, her sarcasm blending seamlessly with her sympathy. “It means,” She starts, quirking her brow, “Peter Parker is the kid who waited on you hand and foot when you were in the hospital for appendicitis last year. He stuffs your locker with your favorite candy on your birthday. You finish each other’s sentences, (Y/N). If you weren’t so joined at the hip I would assume you’re in love with each other.” 
“What are you saying then?” You ask, unintentionally harsh. 
Michelle rolls her eyes, wondering how you couldn’t see it already. “You love Peter, (Y/N). And he loves you. You’re astrally connected. So just because he couldn’t be honest with you doesn’t mean he loves you any less. So stop thinking about what you want to say to him and say it.” She says, patting your shoulder as the bell rings, signaling that lunch is over. 
Her advice rolls around in your head for the rest of your day, through your two remaining classes and on lonely walk home. As your music plays in your ears, you look around your neighborhood and try to imagine what your life would’ve been like without Peter in it, but all you see are memories. The park across the street from the bakery, isn’t just a park across the street from a bakery. It’s where May and Ben would take you on Friday afternoons just like this one, when the breeze was just right and the smell of baked goods from a few feet away was just too enticing. Patrick’s Skate Shop: it’s where you two rented skateboards that one time, and although you came home with a shared total of 23 scrapes and bruises, it’s where you joke about it when you pass it by. The streets are lined with laughs, with the affects of a lifelong friendship. What he said struck you in a previously untouched place, but as much as it pains you to think about, being without him hurts more. 
You’re so tied up in your own thoughts when you hear it, that you almost think your mind is playing tricks on you. You don’t see the man snatch the old woman’s purse; that happen’s too far ahead of you. What you do see, however, is the flash of red and blue start to run in your direction, chasing the rushing man. You stand frozen in your spot, mouth slightly parted as you watch the scene unfold. It’s Spider-Man, it’s the guy you’ve frequently discussed with Peter and who you’ve had yet to see despite him operating in your neighborhood. But just being able to recognize the masked man isn’t what makes your blood run cold. 
It’s the slight shove the red blur makes against your shoulder, followed by the quick ‘sorry’ that unmasks the superhero and reduces him down to your idiot best friend. Because you’ve heard that voice before. You’ve heard that little apology countless times, when he accidentally jabs you in the side or when he hugs you a bit too tight, and it’s no different in tone, or in voice, than just now, when it filled your ears after Spider-Man shoved your shoulder. 
And without a doubt in your dumbfounded mind, you know. Peter Parker  is Spider-Man. Spider-Man is Peter Parker.
tags: @anali-022506 @nicunt @fairydustparker @hista-girl @hollandroos @iminlovewithafictionalguy
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vcg73 · 7 years
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5 and 1 fic - prompt by Runeburnz - 5 times Kurt put up with Blaine's shit, and 1 time he didn’t .
So, the other day I asked for some 5 and 1 prompts. I received a couple of responses, and I will try to do the Anonymous prompt later this week.
This one was hard because the canon series was basically Kurt putting up with Blaine’s shit time after time until it finally just wore him down to having no spirit left to deny whatever Blaine wanted. So, I went with the option of time-traveling back to ret-con Season 3, which is pretty much when Kurt’s storyline first started going to hell. I gave that downward spiral a logical breaking point and corrected a couple of annoying things at the same time. 
I even allow Blaine to not be a total dick, because at that point he still had the potential to be redeemable.
The First Time:
– Kurt knew he wasn’t ready for this. At least not the way Blaine wanted him to be. He had wanted romance, sweet words and caring gestures, a gentle understanding from his boyfriend that he was scared of not being good enough, and reassurance that he was loved enough to be good enough no matter what happened. He had at least wanted respect, to be allowed to have a say in the time and place of losing his virginity. Of losing their virginity together.
He couldn’t understand how Blaine could feel so differently about it. How he could have allowed himself to get drunk and try to force the moment in the back of a car, in the public parking lot of a bar of all places, when he had just spent the entire evening dancing with someone else. Someone who had made it very clear that he wouldn’t say no if asked.
Was it wrong that Kurt wanted the fairy tale? Did every other guy think that just taking it when the opportunity came along was the right thing to do? Was he stupid for thinking there ought to be more? Or was the idea that he – that both of them – mattered, just something that parents said to keep their kids from growing up for as long as possible?
Well, if that was how it was then he had no choice. If he didn’t get over his fears and move things forward, then he had proof standing by with a smirk and an ugly striped rugby shirt that Blaine would find someone who would. He had to make himself be ready. He would go to Blaine. He would pretend to be confident, suggest they go back to his boyfriend’s nearly always empty house, and he would do it. At least that way he could assure himself of privacy and exert some tiny measure of control. Enjoy some small illusion of romance and caring.
After all, that was what Blaine wanted. At least one of them would be happy and it was important to make the person you loved happy. Even if it left you feeling somewhat empty inside.
Growing up meant waking up, and even the most cherished of dreams had to be allowed to fade away.
Kurt was used to making sacrifices for the people he loved. What was one more?
 The Second Time
 – How could this have happened?  After everything they had gone through. After they had become a couple in every sense of the word. After Blaine had promised that he understood Kurt’s insecurities regarding his flirtatiousness with a clearly interested rival. 
Blaine had claimed that he had no interest in continuing a relationship with Sebastian Smythe. A false claim as it turned out. Not only had Blaine continued to be friends with Sebastian behind Kurt’s back, evidently enjoying a long string of email, text, and coffee dates without ever once mentioning any of it to his boyfriend, but he had actually shared New Directions’ set-list with him! He had betrayed the group, and betrayed Kurt’s trust.
 But somehow, Kurt was the bad guy. He had confronted Blaine, vented some of his justifiable anger, and Blaine had barely apologized before putting on that wounded expression that always made Kurt feel guilty. As if he was the one who had done something wrong, like kicking a puppy. Blaine had accused him of trying to control their relationship, of not being supportive of how much Blaine missed the guys at Dalton; saying how Kurt had “made” him transfer and wasn’t that good enough? Did he have to give up all his friends too?
 And somehow, Kurt had found himself caving in with barely an argument. He did not want to dictate who Blaine could be friends with, did he?  He wasn’t really jealous of how the guys at Dalton treated Blaine like a long lost brother, with their “once a Warbler, always a Warbler” credo, while Kurt – who had also been a Warbler for nearly 6 months – barely warranted a flicker of memory among the group, was he?  
 Well, maybe he did resent the latter one a bit. And Blaine had been one of them for nearly two years. But not Sebastian! He had made no secret of wanting more than just friendship from Blaine, and he had not even been at Dalton when they went there, so why did he fall under that blanket policy of Warbler brotherhood?  
 Blaine claimed he had been protecting Kurt’s feelings by keeping his ongoing relationship with Sebastian a secret. That he couldn’t be hurt by it if he didn’t know it was happening. He had done the only thing he could to keep them both happy. That was nothing to be angry about. And giving up the set-list had been an accident. Blaine had been betrayed more surely than Kurt had, and he was the one who deserved sympathy for his hurt feelings. It was Sebastian who was in the wrong, not Blaine!  Kurt should understand that. He should forgive that minor infraction.
 So he would do it, because he loved Blaine. He believed in him. And this time, Blaine had promised publicly to New Directions that he would not keep in contact any more. That was enough.
 Right?
 The Third Time –
 It was difficult to say whether Blaine had kept his word. Certainly, his relationship with Sebastian had cooled considerably if the other boy had decided to escalate his team’s rivalry with New Directions into an after-hours sing off in a parking garage. Whoever performed Michael Jackson better would win the right to perform his music at Regionals.
 It felt semi-ridiculous, but also just a little bit bad ass. The musical theater nature of it appealed to Kurt, excited him in a way that very little had lately. He had been feeling so down-hearted. It seemed like every time he spoke to Blaine, they ended up arguing about something. Blaine just kept bringing up the great sacrifice he had made in transferring, and the hardship of losing his friends at Dalton “for you”, as if Kurt had somehow put an invisible shackle on his leg that would sound an alarm if he dared speak to Nick, or Jeff, or even one of the graduated members like David and Wes.
 Kurt had done no such thing. He totally supported keeping up with old friends, just as he had done when he was the Warbler and his friends at McKinley had wanted to meet for coffee or shopping. But somehow Blaine did not see it that way. He acted like Kurt was being some massive hypocrite for not wanting him to sustain a friendship with a boy who not only threatened their personal relationship, but also used him to hurt their current team. It was not the same thing at all. It wasn’t!  
 But here they were, playing at “West Side Story” all over again, only with themselves as the Jets, and the Warblers as the Sharks. And Kurt somehow feeling like Blaine had cast himself in the role of Maria – caught between loyalty to his family and his one true love. Well, at least that meant he would finally get to be Tony!
 Except something went wrong. Sebastian had played dirty, which in retrospect is something Kurt was ashamed of himself for not expecting. Instead of a simple song and dance rivalry, the Warblers, including people Kurt had previously thought of as friends, like Trent, had come armed with Slushies. They had thrown them at New Directions, acting just like the hallway bullies at McKinley, attempting to humiliate them in a way that they could only have learned about from Blaine’s apparently continual over-shares to Sebastian. And Sebastian himself had armed his weapon with something nasty. Rock-salt, which combined with the stuff in the Slushie would react as a corrosive when thrown at someone.
 Given that it had been aimed at his chest, Kurt was certain the Slushie was intended to damage his clothes. The wardrobe that he loved so dearly and that Sebastian held in such utter contempt. It would have done his skin no favors either had it connected. But Kurt had had plenty of experience with people throwing gross substances at him and he had reacted instinctively to turn away and cover his face. The stuff should have just hit the side of his leather jacket and dripped harmlessly away. Only Blaine, perhaps feeling guiltier than he had previously admitted to, had unexpectedly decided to play superhero. He had ducked sideways, putting his face right into the path of the stream.  
 Kurt had never really considered until that moment that Blaine had somehow managed to never once be Slushied since transferring to McKinley, as if he was immune to the bullying that every other member of the team – Kurt in particular – received. As a result, he apparently had no idea that he should close his eyes when something was tossed in his face, and he had suffered damage to his eyes.
 Blaine was out of school for several weeks, recovering from his injury. Kurt felt horrible about it. Why had he not taught his boyfriend the standard duck-and-cover procedure for Slushie attacks? Why had he not followed his gut about Sebastian and argued harder against going against the Warblers, and just created an alternative set-list to present to New Directions?  Why did an internet search of scratched corneas, which suggested that they should be treated with eye drops and a few days in a protective eye-patch, but otherwise allowed one to live a normal life, make him feel so suspicious of Blaine’s claims of surgery and necessary weeks in bed being waited on hand and food? And why did having those suspicions make him feel like such a bad person?
 For surely Blaine would not lie to him. Not again. No, clearly this was somehow Kurt’s own fault. He would just have to live with that and do the best he could to assure Blaine that he was loved, and that his brave sacrifice had not been in vain.
 The Fourth Time
 – Another Valentine’s Day and another disappointment.
 For so long, Kurt had dreamed of having a perfect, romantic Valentine’s with the boy he loved. Long before he had a face to put with that fantasy, he had cherished the notion of sweet cards, cheap but lovingly presented chocolate candies, holding hands and ‘I love you’ exchanges, serenades and sweet kisses under the stars. (Or in a nice restaurant, February in Ohio being what it was.)
 Instead he had spent two years pining after a boy who had treated him as if he was just shy of a full on case of ‘cooties’, and another year hoping for a declaration of returned affection from his crush at Dalton – who had then enlisted Kurt to help him woo another boy entirely. Then this year, the first time ever that he had an actual boyfriend, somehow who had told him that he loved him, had kissed him, and with whom he was even having a physical relationship, Blaine was out with an injury. As if he was on some weird sports team that did not allow shows of affection while their players were on the bench.
There had been no requests for a visit all week. No cute little e-cards in his Inbox, though he had sent several of them. No gifts in the mail, even though Kurt had spent an entire week’s allowance on flowers to be delivered to Blaine’s house with a message of love and a cute little stuffed bear with a satin heart on its chest.
 Nothing at all, until the secret admirer gifts had begun showing up at school. Cards, balloons, stuffed animals. All of the things he had hoped for, and Kurt had been so touched that Blaine would do something so romantic. He usually hated public displays of affection, so for Blaine to abandon his comfort zone and make such a gesture for Kurt, just because he knew how much Kurt loved romance . . . that was something special indeed. And then Kurt was invited to dinner for two on Valentine’s night, the very same day that Blaine said his doctor might clear him for return to regular activity.  
 Kurt had sent thank-you notes to Blaine every time one of his ‘secret’ gifts came, and he had great plans for how to thank him in person when they met for dinner.
 Only it was not Blaine who showed up. It was an entirely unwelcome surprise to find that his former bully/tentative friend Dave Karofsky had done it all. Because Dave had unexpectedly developed a crush on him, and had assumed from Blaine’s long absence and lack of PDA that they were no longer together and the field was clear.
 It had made Kurt feel sick and sad. Blaine had apparently done nothing for him at all, but had allowed him to float through the week on a Cloud 9 of someone else’s making without even trying to set the record straight when he was thanked for someone else’s thoughtfulness. Dave had just declared his misplaced love, and Kurt was forced to let him down as gently as he could, trying not to feel hurt by the pain he was obviously causing someone who had gone out of his way to try and make him happy. And Kurt was to spend yet another Valentine’s day alone and disappointed.
 Then, Blaine showed up. He came to the restaurant just in time to take over the stage at Sugar’s party, to make a public gesture of being back. He had sung 2/3rds of a song, not a particularly romantic one but still about love, to the room in general before approaching Kurt and gesturing for him to join in. He had been so happy to see Blaine, smiling and fully recovered, and to salvage what was left of Valentine’s Day by spending it together, that he had put his other concerns aside.
 Until that night, when the crowd had gone home and they were walking to Kurt’s SUV. Blaine had thanked him for all of the cards and gifts, and then given him . . . nothing. Not a chocolate, not a flower, not even a lousy card. Apparently his mere presence was supposed to be enough. And Kurt tried to pretend to himself that it really was, even though his heart was breaking a little more. Blaine suggested that they go back to his house and ‘make up for lost time’, grinning like they were sharing some naughty secret because his parents still did not know what was going on. Kurt made the excuse of being tired after helping to set up for Sugar’s party, telling Blaine that he did not want him to tax his strength on the first day of his recovery.
 Blaine pouted, then he asked Kurt about the heart-shaped box of butterscotch candies in his hand, smiling expectantly and hinting that he thought Kurt had bought it for him. Kurt had taken the box because he did not know what to do with it after Dave ran out. It was still sealed, but he could not bring himself to offer it to Blaine under the circumstances. He sadly explained what the secret admirer gifts had really been about, expecting some measure of sympathy and maybe an explanation of why Blaine had not corrected his previous assumption about their origin. Instead, Blaine had adopted that horrible injured manner and all but accused Kurt of fooling around on him when he was injured.
 They had a fight, right there in the middle of the Breadstix parking lot on Valentine’s Day. A fight that somehow ended once again in Kurt apologizing for something he had not done while Blaine self-righteously allowed him to make it up to him by going home to have sex.
 The candy had been dropped somewhere during their argument. When Kurt found the box the next day, squashed and broken by some uncaring person’s tire, he could not help feeling that he and the lost gift had something in common.
 The Fifth Time
  – Cooper Anderson was even more gorgeous in person than he had been on TV. A phenomenon that Kurt had not known was actually possible. And he was, to Kurt’s utter shock, Blaine’s older brother. Kurt had a celebrity in his own family! (Well, practically.)
 But for some reason, Blaine did not like Cooper. To Kurt and everyone else, the man was charming, accomplished, funny, and altogether amazing. Okay, so perhaps he was a little on the stupid and self-absorbed side, but hey, not even the FreeCreditScore.com guy could be entirely perfect. The flaws just made him human, and even more attractive.
 It did not take long to realize that Blaine was jealous of his brother, and that Cooper had no idea how to relate to a kid brother who was a full ten years his junior, and probably had never been able to do so. They had stopped even trying to communicate years ago.  
 Kurt had done his best to be sympathetic, understanding, and to love him enough to make up for the love Blaine wanted and did not feel he was getting from his brother. But the Andersons’ issues were too complicated to really understand. After all, Kurt had only had the experience of a brother for a single year, and his was the same age. Plus Blaine seemed to resent him for even trying to relate, and even more for his none too subtle crush on the actor.
 It was not quite fair, given that Blaine had never once told him who the infomercial guy really was until the day he showed up at their school, and Kurt had done his best to stifle his admiration once he realized how much it bothered his boyfriend.
 But Kurt did not like it when people pushed him into revealing his deeper feelings before he was ready, so he tried not to feel hurt when Blaine rejected his offers to talk, or angry when he refused to even try to distract himself from his brooding by spending time together. Blaine retreated to sulk, not even willingly going along with the other Glee kids for ditch-day. As a non-senior he certainly wasn’t obligated, but Artie and Tina both went along more than willingly so it saddened Kurt that Blaine was the only no-show.
 He won Blaine a stuffed toy at the amusement park, and used it to playfully coax him into finally sharing some of his feelings about Cooper. It was more than obvious that neither Anderson brother was going to go out of their way to heal the rift between them, so Kurt decided to take matters into his own hands and he tricked them into meeting each other in the auditorium. He did not stay to watch. Kurt heard the opening strains of a duet and felt that his work there was done.
 The song in question made him raise his eyebrow a little, but hey, Blaine was nothing if not the master of finding inappropriate songs for every occasion!
 Afterward, he cornered Blaine to talk again. It seemed his plot had succeeded and the brothers were in a somewhat better place. Blaine seemed lighter, and though Kurt felt like he had run an emotional marathon in bringing it about, the improved mood made it all worthwhile. And if Blaine had been ignoring him an awful lot lately? Well, he would surely make up for it.
 That was just what you did for someone you loved.
 The Last Time
 – Blaine had been ignoring him for weeks. Again. When they did talk, they seemed to be arguing again. Usually about nothing, because Blaine was clearly angry and resentful about something, but Kurt did not know what it was. Blaine refused to tell him whatever was really stuck in his craw.  
 Date night was a thing of the past, and even their secret rendezvous had been sidelined. Blaine had been scheduling their make-out sessions on the excuse that they needed to be out of his house before the parents came home, and yet he refused to do it anywhere else. Kurt’s house made him feel uncomfortable, because Burt was something of a friend, or Finn might walk in on them. School was out of the question, given his aversion to PDA. Kurt did not share Blaine’s odd affinity for making out in cars, but gave in to it a couple of times just to cool his increasing desperation for some kind of affectionate attention.
 Unfortunately, the distance did not stop there. Blaine would not even discuss Kurt’s upcoming audition and potential enrollment into NYADA. He refused to go with him to pick out music, because it might lead to that same discussion. Basically, unless the conversation was focused on Blaine, and Blaine alone, he was no longer interested in having it.
 And Kurt was getting awfully tired of being nothing but a sounding board. Of being scheduled and sidelined right out of his own relationship.
 So when he went alone to buy some new sheet music, and met a boy who seemed so delighted to meet him, so openly admiring and excited for his college prospects, so amusingly complimentary and friendly, well . . . it was hard not to respond to that. Kurt had given Chandler his phone number. He had enjoyed the text messages, and felt a bit better about himself than he had done in months.
 He had showed the texts to Rachel, who instantly accused him of cheating on Blaine. That had taken some of the joy out of receiving them, though Kurt had thought her assumption ridiculous. Chandler knew he had a boyfriend, he had told him so on the very first day. This flirting was just teasing, funny things to make him smile. What was so wrong with that?
 But he did not tell Blaine. He mentioned that he had met a fellow New York bound high school senior at ‘Between the Sheets’, hoping Blaine would ask for more and open up a discussion, but the conversation was shut down so fast Kurt practically heard a slamming door. So he remained quiet. Just to be sure that Rachel had been wrong, he showed the texts to Sam Evans. They had become friends over time, if casual ones. One could only take so many sports metaphors, video game references, and movie impersonations, after all, but Sam was a good guy and he seemed interested so Kurt showed him. He had found the messages hilarious, just like Kurt did, and agreed that Chandler seemed like a nice ‘dude’.
 But Blaine, though sitting across the room sulking at the sight of Kurt laughing with Sam, never asked what they were looking at. Instead he came over to Kurt’s house after school, waiting until he was out of the room to start going through his phone. He had read all the funny, flirty text messages and immediately got mad and accused Kurt of going behind his back with the other boy. Kurt had gotten angry in turn, finally pouring out some of his frustration with the way Blaine had been ignoring him. He had denied any wrong-doing with Chandler, pointing out that he had done no worse than Blaine had done with Sebastian, but Blaine did not see it that way. It was one set of standards for him, and another for Kurt.
 As for going through his phone without permission, Blaine seemed to believe he had the right to do so, even though he would not even allow Kurt to borrow his laptop to look something up without releasing the password-protection and bringing up the search-engine personally, looking over his shoulder the entire time to be sure he did not go anywhere else. That behavior had made Kurt feel a bit paranoid about what Blaine was hiding, but he had always suppressed it, telling himself that Blaine was just interested in seeing the search results for himself.
 All the months of double standards and being ignored until it was convenient for Blaine to pay attention to him finally reached a boiling point the next day. Kurt had sent Blaine home after their argument, not apologizing first for a change, only to have a change of heart during the night as he imagined how he might have reacted to discovering that Blaine was (again) sharing flirtations with another boy without his knowledge. He had made up his mind to apologize in public by way of a song for the glee club’s Whitney Houston tribute week. Kurt had poured his heart into that song, looking at Blaine and willing him to get the message.
 The only message he apparently received was that Kurt had not groveled enough. Blaine countered with accusations of cheating, appealing to the other kids to get them on his side against Kurt. Kurt had seen the nods, the resentful looks being shot his way from people who had been cheated on in the past (and had done quite a bit of it themselves) and just assumed they knew what was going on, and finally he just had enough.
 “No,” he said firmly, standing and raising his voice to project through the room without actually yelling, and interrupting Blaine mid revenge-song. Blaine stopped singing and looked angry. Everyone else was brought up short, as if his objection had awakened them from whatever dark memories they had been caught in. “Blaine, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but you know as well as I do that I have never cheated on you. Chandler is just a boy I met at a music store, who has a little too much texting time on his hands. I’m not attracted to him, and even if I was, I would never betray our relationship by fooling around with him.”
 “You say that now, but how do I know?” Blaine asked, flashing the room rather than Kurt with his patented wounded-puppy look.
 Kurt was not having it. “You know, or should know, because you know me. I waited a long time for what we have together, and it means too much to me to just throw it away on the first guy who tosses me a compliment. I love you, and that means everything to me.” He turned his head, addressing their friends, who were once again nodding, but this time in agreement with his own statement. “And the rest of you might just remember the last time you did this to me, when Sam was in trouble and I was helping him out.”
 Sam sat up straight, sudden resolve in his face as he shook off whatever doubts had been niggling at his brain. “He’s right, guys. He did nothing wrong then, and I know he’s still cool now. He showed me those texts and they were just lame pick-up lines. Kurt wasn’t even responding to them.”
 “You didn’t show me the texts,” Blaine blurted, clearly not liking that attention was drifting away from him. “You were carrying on with your new friend without even telling me.”
 “You mean like you carried on with Sebastian behind Kurt’s back?” Mercedes said coolly, giving him a narrow eyed stare. “Behind all of our backs?”
 Finn suddenly seemed to get her drift. “Hey, that’s right! And Kurt hasn’t been meeting up with anyone. He told us about meeting him at dinner that night, but Charlie lives in Westerville.”
 “Chandler,” Kurt corrected.
 “Right,” Finn said, then his brow scrunched as he looked at Kurt, “Dude, do you think he’s trying to steal our new set-list?”
 Kurt shook his head. “We don’t have a set-list yet, Finn. I think he was interested in me, but he didn’t push when I told him I had a boyfriend.”
 “He should be interested,” Brittany chimed in, giving him a once-over that made Kurt feel both flattered and slightly uncomfortable. Brittany never made a secret of it that she found many of her teammates physically attractive. “Unless he’s blind. Do even blind kids know you’re hot? I wonder if he sends his texts in Braille.”
 “Anyway,” Kurt said loudly, turning his attention back to Blaine, “the point is that I haven’t been doing anything wrong, and you have no right to try and use our friends against me. I admit that I probably should have showed you the messages when I first started receiving them, but I never saw Chandler as anything but a potential friend who is also interested in going to college in New York. Something that’s very important to me, but which you have been completely unwilling to talk about for weeks.”
 Blaine crossed his arms over his chest. “I know it’s important to you. It’s all you talk about! New York this, and NYADA that. Do you even care that I won’t be going with you? It’s almost like you’re happy to be leaving me behind!”
 The picture finally came together for Kurt. All the little passive aggressive behaviors of the last several months coalesced into a clear picture. “Is that what this has been about? I’m going away to college, and you resent me for being excited about it? Blaine! I’m graduating high school in a few months. I have to think about these things! That doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or don’t want you in my future. It means that we’ll have to learn to make a long-distance relationship work, like thousands of other couples do every year. It doesn’t mean that we should throw away the time we have left.”
 Blaine abruptly plunked down in a seat, arms still stubbornly crossed. “But you’ll be in a new place, with new guys. Hot guys who won’t even know I exist. How do I know you won’t cheat on me again?”
 “Oh for . . . I did not cheat on you this time!” Kurt said, voice rising. “Or any other time, and I wouldn’t do that. I hate that people do that to the people they claim to love!”
 The other members of New Directions all suddenly found somewhere else to look. Mr. Schuester seemed to remember that practice was still in session as he gave a halfhearted try at regaining attention. “Now guys, I don’t think this is really the time or place.”
 “It is, Mister Shue,” Rachel said, in that oddly authoritative way of hers that somehow always made the teacher back down. “If we don’t resolve our conflicts, they’ll just fester and drain our attention away from the important things like preparing for auditions and Nationals. These texts messages were a cry for help. A ticking time bomb. A guillotine blade waiting to fall!”
 Interrupting before Rachel could go full Joan of Arc on them, Artie cocked his head like a curious puppy. “By the way Blaine, why did you think he’d been text-cheating if Kurt didn’t show them to you?”
 “He went through my phone when I left the room,” Kurt said absently, his attention still focused on his pouting boyfriend. The sudden chorus of gasps and disbelieving noises made him look up. “What?”
 “You went through his phone?” Puck said, giving Blaine an incredulous look. “Dude, that’s not cool.”
 Quinn gave him a frosty look. “You would know.”
 “And why do you think that some vaguely possible and entirely hypothetical suitor swooping in to steal Kurt away from you give you the right to sabotage his need to find the best possible song to audition for NYADA?” Rachel piped up, glaring at Blaine and copying his cross armed gesture. “Kurt is loyal to his friends, and he’s forgiving of mistakes. Believing me, I should know! But this is his career we’re talking about. His entire future on Broadway could depend on this moment! You should be by his side, holding his hand and picking out songs, giving him point by point critiques on how to improve his performance ahead of the demanding task of performing for a difficult audition. What kind of boyfriend are you?”
 “That’s a good question,” Finn chimed in again. “Because I haven’t exactly seen you beating down our door to spend time with Kurt lately. In fact, ever since you guys started sleeping together, you’ve been using that as a power play to get him to do whatever you want.”
 Kurt smacked his brother on the arm, hissing, “Finn!”
 Santana blew a raspberry. “Oh, please. It’s not like everyone didn’t figure it out when you finally unlocked the chastity belt. The second night of the musical, wasn’t it?  You showed up the next day staring off into space with a stupid bittersweet smile on your face. I could practically hear the theme song from ‘Ice Castles’ playing every time you walked by. And short-stack was walking funny for the entire third performance. Congrats on that, by the way. I lost five bucks to Brittany. She was sure you’d be a top and I thought no way.”
 “Oh, my god, shut up!” Kurt begged, feeling his face heat up.
 “You have to admit that sex did improve his stage performance, though,” Artie added smugly. “Just like I told him it would.”
 Momentarily side-tracked from his conversation, Kurt looked at his classmate. “Excuse me?”
 Blaine looked away but Rachel jumped right in. “Oh, you know. When Artie told me and Blaine that being virgins would make it impossible to understand the passion that Maria and Tony felt for one another. It was terrible advice. After all, I wouldn’t have committed a murder if I was going to play Roxy Hart! I felt so silly for listening to him and trying to seduce Finn just for the sake of a play. Didn’t you Blaine? I’m sure Kurt was just as forgiving when you told him, though, since you guys were even closer after the show.”
 Kurt’s mouth had fallen open halfway through Rachel’s speech and as he stared accusingly at Blaine, the other boy suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. He avoided Kurt’s eyes and instead shot Rachel and Artie a pair of accusing looks. Kurt felt like his heart was breaking all over again, but this time there was a healing overlay of ice fusing quickly through the cracks. In a dangerously quiet voice, he said, “That night at Scandals. That’s why you suddenly went from ‘let’s both be comfortable’ to trying to force me to have sex for the first time in the back of your car. It wasn’t about me at all, or even about you having some sudden burning attraction for me. You did it because you wanted to be a better actor.”
 As the meaning of his words sank ain, the glee club turned shocked eyes upon Blaine, and Artie looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. “Not cool,” he muttered. It had clearly never occurred to him that for Blaine to lose his virginity, Kurt would have had to do so as well, ready or not. “Kurt, I am so sorry.”
 “I’ll deal with you later,” he said flatly, not quite ready to speak with a guilt-ridden Artie just yet. He continued to stare at Blaine. “Well?”
 “Hey, it all worked out!” he said, a note of begging in his voice. “We didn’t do anything until you suggested it. I didn’t choose the time and place, you did!”
 It was all Kurt could do to hold his composure. Tears were prickling at his eyes as he said, “Only because you made me feel guilty for ruining your moment. Only because you had spent the entire previous night dancing with Sebastian while ignoring me, and I was afraid if I didn’t give you what you wanted, he would.”
 “That is a valid point,” Santana said, exchanging nods with Puck.
 “But we worked it out!” Blaine said in a whining tone. “It doesn’t matter why you finally got over being afraid of it. You did, and it was good, and we’ve been great ever since.”
 He swallowed hard. “We haven’t been so great lately.”
 “Well whose fault is that?” he tried again.
 “Pretty sure that’d be yours, dude,” Sam suggested. “He’s been trying to talk to you for ages and you keep cold-shouldering him.”
 Quinn nodded. “I don’t get involved, but I’ve seen it too. Kurt has been pretty persistent about making you happy since you transferred here, but every time he needs your support you’ve suddenly got better things to do.”
 “I transferred here to be with him!”
 “Seems to me, you transferred here because it gave you a better shot at being top dog,” Puck observed. “You bogarted the musical, you flaked off on helping him campaign for the school election, you started fights with Sam and Finn to score more solos in here, you eye fucked another guy until Kurt gave it up to you, then you treated him like last week’s meatloaf every time you got your panties in a twist over nothing. Seriously, Hummel, there ain’t a lot of ass to be had around here for you gay dudes, but you could do better.”
 Much to his own surprise, Kurt found himself agreeing. He had loved Blaine devotedly and faithfully, ever since the day they first met on that staircase at Dalton Academy, long before he had any return on the sentiment, but the relationship had not made him happy in a long time. “It hasn’t made you happy either, has it?” he asked quietly.
 Blaine looked a little confused. “What?”
 “Us. You and me. It doesn’t make you happy,” Kurt clarified. “I love you, but I’m not happy either. This is a test. How we behave together when the prospect of a bigger hurdle comes between us. And we’re failing it, big time.”
 “Are you saying you don’t want to be together anymore?” Blaine demanded, his tone halfway between resentment and panic. “Kurt, don’t be stupid. Without me, what do you have?”
 Kurt looked around the room. “Friends . . . maybe?”
 More people nodded their agreement than he had honestly expected. It seemed that the revelations of the last few minutes had pulled a few people back from the weird ‘bro-ship’ that had formed between Blaine and seemingly every one of Kurt’s friends since he came to McKinley.
 “I think maybe it’s time we both faced the truth,” he said sadly. “I don’t want to be nothing but a convenience boyfriend. I want to go away next year and know that the people I leave behind will honestly wish me the best. I want to be able to know that you’re okay and that you’re moving toward your own future, and with someone who will make you truly happy. We were good together, for a while, but I think maybe our time has passed.”
 “No,” Blaine said, in a quietly choked voice. “I didn’t want this.”
 Kurt sat down in the chair next to his and took his hand. “Are you sure? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you truly want us to be together? Because if I’m honest with myself, I can’t say the same. I never cheated on you, Blaine, and I never would. But I think we’re moving in different directions and we may have gone as far as we could.”
 Blaine shook his head, blinking rapidly against brimming tears. “I never meant to make you unhappy, Kurt. I never meant to lie to you, or to accuse you of awful things. I was just so scared of losing you.”
 “Of being alone,” Kurt corrected gently. It occurred to him, perhaps for the first time consciously, that Blaine had never really been alone before. He had had a brother, however fraught with difficulty their relationship was, then he had the crowd at Dalton who had adopted him quickly as one of their own. And then he had had Kurt, who had given him all the love and devotion he could possibly want. He had never really had to face anything on his own. Maybe that was why he had been so intent on sabotaging Kurt’s chances at bulking up his college applications. If Kurt failed to get into NYADA, then he might stay in Lima and continue to hold Blaine’s hand through every difficult moment. “Maybe it’s time for both of us find our own way.”
  Blaine finally looked Kurt in the face, his dark eyes wet with tears that were matched in Kurt’s. For the first time in a very long time, Kurt could see the boy he had first met and loved at Dalton. The other boy must have seen it too, for he smiled a bit tremulously. “Remember when you thought Pavarotti was gonna die because he was molting?”
 Kurt laughed a little, sniffling and dashing a hand across his nose. “Yeah. Turned out he was just getting ready to spread his wings and fly.”
 “I always said he was your voice.”
 “And after he did die, I lost that voice for a while,” Kurt agreed, “but I think it’s time that I found it again. Okay?”
 He nodded. Taking a shuddering breath, he said, “I’m sorry for all of that stuff, and . . . and if you still want to be friends then I’ll help you find a great song this weekend.”
 Grateful that Blaine was not about to flee the room in dramatic despair, or try to dump the entire glee club to vent his feelings, Kurt agreed, “I’d really like that.”
 “And maybe we can fill out some other college applications for you. Not that you won’t ace your audition, because I know you will, but just to be safe. I hear NYADA is a really competitive school, and I don’t want anything to keep you from following your heart to New York.”
 Recognizing a genuine olive branch in the offer, Kurt squeezed his hand. “That’s a good idea. I told Finn he should apply to a variety of schools. It’d be pretty arrogant of me to assume I don’t need to do the same.” He took a deep breath, fully aware that every person in the room was staring at them with a combination of sad and doting expressions and that Blaine had never really liked public displays of affection, then said, “And don’t ever believe that part of my heart isn’t being torn out and left behind in Lima.”
 He leaned close and kissed Blaine. A soft, heartfelt kiss of goodbye. Blaine hesitated a moment, then kissed him back and Kurt could feel the finality in that gesture.
 As they parted, the bell rang. With one final squeeze of Blaine’s hand, Kurt stood and gathered his possessions. He walked from the choir room with head held high. His heart was a little bit broken, a little bit sore, and it probably would be for some time to come, but as Mercedes suddenly stepped up to him and linked their elbows, something she had not done in a long time, and Finn and Rachel both stepped up to flank them on either side as if showing the world where their loyalties lay, Kurt suddenly felt lighter than he had in a very long time.
 It was time to spread his wings and see where the winds of fate would lead him.
 Kurt Hummel was ready to fly free.
 THE END
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