#also him being like marc hated me. valentino girl do you have EYES

[moonshynecybin]

we talk a lot about vale making up conspiracy theories in 2015 (he was not delulu idc! but anyways, not the point) but the real conspiracy theory was the one stoner (mainly him) and vale made in 2006 about their tyres being fucked up on purpose. two icons truly.

record scratch freeze frame. vale was ABSOLUTELYYYYYY being delusional in 2015 he was like jorge and marc have unionized against me along with race direction because i am italian. that’s crazy. but! i digress all of these guys especially the aliens are pretty crazy and casey stoner is by no means an exception

from his autobiography “pushing the limits.” what an odd thing to say.

[ymnfilter]

Let Me Take You In My Arms (You Can Cry Cry) [Klaine AU]

On ao3

Pt.2 Of Expensive Klaine

Summary: 

Glee Alternate Universe in which Elizabeth and Burt separated instead of Kurt's mother dying. Elizabeth's side of the family is crazy rich and she got Kurt's custody so he's also been raised in Luxury. Kurt is enrolled at Dalton when he reaches high school, where he meets and falls in love with Blaine Anderson whose family is equally rich and influential. This is going to be an entire series of Klaine just being expensive, but for now:

Burt Hummel and Elizabeth Alarie get a divorce, Nanna Alarie takes baby Kurt with her to France. Andersons find out their son is gay. Kurt and Blaine meet in middle school at Westerville and start to become each other's everything.

When Cooper Anderson was born to Devon and Pamela Anderson, they were ecstatic. Finally, they had an heir. Someone who would take over after Devon and become the next CEO and face of ANDRSN Publications, a fashion and lifestyle magazine that had been started by Devon’s great grandmother and was now one of America’s biggest names. Devon himself knew little about fashion, nor did he have any interest in learning about it. No, unlike Vogue or Elle or other magazines in the industry, ANDRSN didn’t have a fashion line of their own, instead giving big names in the industry like Marc Jacobs or Valentino or Alarie a chance to show off their collections in their magazines.

Cooper was difficult though. He preferred sneaking out to the dollar theater over finishing his school homework, he preferred dating and sleeping around with girls over after school clubs, he preferred fast cars and black cards over responsibility and common sense. By the time he was eighteen, neither Devon or his wife were surprised to find him gone one day after graduation, with only a single note that said,

I wanna act. Say bye to Blainers for me, will ya?

They weren’t surprised, really. Didn’t mean they were any less disappointed.

And so, Devon’s attention shifted from his first son to his second. Blaine was a jumpy, hyper eight year old kid when Devon decided he was going to be the next CEO of  ANDRSN, and for a few years, Devon had no doubt Blaine would be the perfect heir. He was a straight A student, he played football after school, he wore bow ties and suspenders and behaved appropriately and charmingly amongst guests of all circles. Blaine was the perfect son anybody could ever ask for, and he seemed perfectly happy to fill the role. Ticking all of his father’s requirement boxes with effortless smiles and a skip in his step.

Then Blaine turned eleven.

“I’m gay, dad.”

Devon remembered feeling like his entire world had stopped. They had been having their regular family dinners and Devon froze mid bite, his fork hovering somewhere in the middle of his plate and his open mouth. Next to him Pamela jerked, but she didn’t look very surprised, and Devon figured he was the last one to know about this.

Devon sighed, placed his fork back on his plate,

“You’re sure?” He asked his son, knowing it was futile anyway. No way Blaine would risk telling them something of this magnitude unless he was completely certain. Blaine jerked a nod, keeping his gaze on his own plate, tiny fists clenched on his sides.

“Okay.” Devon said, and nodded. Being gay… it may not have been in his list of requirements needed for the perfect son, but he supposed it couldn’t do much harm either. Blaine’s eyes snapped to his,

“Okay?” He croaked, Devon nodded,

“Well, I’m not exactly happy about it, but, it’s not like you can do anything to change it. So, I will learn to accept it.”

Devon knew he wasn’t the warmest of parents, but from the tears of relief that welled up in Blaine’s eyes, at least he knew what he had said was partially comforting,

“This doesn’t mean that you’re excused to date anybody you want to though, do you understand?”

Blaine blinked at him, “What?”

“I don’t care if it’s a girl or a guy, Blaine, but make sure that whoever you bring home is worthy of being a part of this family.”

Nobody said anything for a while, the tension around them didn’t break until Blaine nodded, giving them a small smile, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

Blaine may not be a perfect son, but Devon figured he was as close to perfection as he could ask for.

Kurt Hummel’s parents start fighting when he’s five. The garage Burt opened just a couple of years ago isn’t doing very well and he’s almost always at work, leaving behind his wife to cook, clean, take care of Kurt and work at her mother’s company from home. It’s not fun, and Elizabeth’s exhausted, and Burt doesn’t understand because in his mind, if you’re not really going out to work, are you really working? Which leads to more fights and more lonely nights and Kurt finds himself hiding under his bed cuddling his Nanna’s soft cashmere sweater almost every night.

Elizabeth has never really been comfortable living as a housewife to a middle class man, but that man being Burt has always been enough reason to be happy. She loves her husband. Has loved him ever since he saw her in highschool cheering for the rival football team while he played quarterback and promptly asked her out on a date afterwards. Her mother did not approve, of course she didn’t, and Elizabeth found herself eloping with the man of her dreams right after highschool. They had been happy in the beginning. So happy. They had a lovely child, and Burt was working at the garage of one of his friend’s fathers and she was doing her best to not get bored out of her mind staying at home all day. But then Burt had wanted to open his own place, and Kurt had turned three and demanded a tutu and dance classes and everything had slowly unraveled.

Burt had started taking on mortgages even when Elizabeth offered to help him out, he and Kurt had started becoming more and more awkward with each other, both giving each other looks of confusion and hurt rather than the love and affection they had before. Elizabeth knew that if Burt just spent some alone time with Kurt he would be able to figure his own son out, but again, Burt hardly had any time for his family anymore, so the father and son remained practically strangers and Christmases and birthdays were filled with grossed out faces at unused boy-gifts and hurtful thank yous.

Looking back, Elizabeth honestly doesn’t know how she survived those years, but it was when Kurt was seven, and her mother had showed up for a surprise visit for her only grandson’s birthday, that everything finally came to a head. Burt hadn’t gotten home until an hour after Kurt’s bed time that evening, and after asking her mother to please tuck him in, Elizabeth was waiting for her husband on the living room sofa, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. Elizabeth has become fairly good at masking her emotions when faced with her husband’s late nights, but none of their problems should affect Kurt’s birthday, she firmly believes that. But Burt hadn’t been there. And she doesn’t know what hurts more, his absence or that fact that Kurt had looked so much more comfortable and happy with just his mom and grandma to celebrate.

When Burt staggers into the house, he’s exhausted. He’s trying to get his garage to a more stable ground, while also trying to earn enough money with part time jobs at the dock to help with the mortgage, not that Lizzy needs to know that bit. She’ll just try to make him talk to her mother, and god knows Burt has had enough of that snobbish Madame Alarie to last him a lifetime. When he does get home though, he knows something’s wrong. The house is quiet. No sounds coming from the TV or the radio (and Burt’s house is never quiet. Not with the love his wife and son share for show tunes) he can’t hear Kurt’s high pitch giggles coming from the kitchen as he tries to help his mother bake cookies. One look at his watch tells him he’s late. Another at the calendar tells him he’s very late on the absolute worst day. He sighs, he knows he’s in for it now. Their screaming matches are sort of legendary in the neighborhood, and as embarrassed as he is about the commotion, Burt figures he’s too tired to care about it at this point.

The verbal back and forth that follows is legendary, but it doesn’t last very long. Just as Elizabeth starts crying, there are suddenly footsteps stomping downstairs, and Burt looks up to see Nanna Alarie rushing downstairs, his glare fierce and directed straight at him. He loses all the fight inside of him when he sees Kurt in her arms, crying and clutching at her sweater with a grip so tight Burt’s afraid he won’t ever want to let go,

“What in the world are you two doing?” She demands and Burt knows that the only reason she also isn’t screaming is because she thinks herself too dignified for it. Burt hates her. She’s rubbing comforting circles on his son’s back, and Elizabeth is sobbing in the corner and Burt honestly does not remember everything he said in his rage and exhaustion but from the way his mother-in-law is looking at him, Burt feels exactly 2 inches tall.

That isn’t new. Burt has always felt 2 inches tall under her gaze,

“You are-” She continues, completely floored at their behavior, as if they would even dare , as if he would even dare to raise his voice at her daughter, irrationally, he feels the anger simmer at the bottom of his belly again, “You both are parents how on earth do you justify screaming at eachother so loud that Kurt wakes up screaming- ”

Oh, and as if those words are just not a thousand stabs to his heart right there-

“ He tries to stay quiet and tries to hide under his bed What in the entire world is wrong with the both of you- ” Her tone doesn’t change, still remains low and harsh but there are tears running down her face too, tears for nothing and nobody but her grandson because that boy is still sobbing, she can feel her neck wet, but he still won’t make a sound-

Nanna Alaria shakes her head, her grip tightening on Kurt in a stance that is purely protective. Burt tries to take a step, who on earth does she think she is trying to protect his own son from him , but his feet don’t move. He watches her calm herself down with just a breath, and god does he hate how in control she always is, as if nothing ever shakes her for too long, and hears her say, “I’m taking him with me right now. I don’t care what anyone says, but he’s coming with me to France and he’s staying there until you two finish this. It doesn’t matter to me how this ends.” She says this as if she isn’t talking about her daughter’s marriage of eight years. She says this as if she’s talking about a particularly bloody wrestling match, “I don’t care if you decide to stay together or separate but Kurt isn’t staying one more second in a place that so completely terrifies him.”

Burt waits for Elizabeth to say something, maybe to protest. Burt wills himself to protest, but nothing follows his mother-in-laws proclamation except silence. They watch her scoff at their cowardice, as if they are children, but she doesn’t spare them another glance, just walks right of the door with their son in her arms. No need to pack or make arrangements. She’s rich enough that she’s never had to think about these things. Burt feels relief course through him, and the only person he hates more than himself in that moment is her.

They try to make their marriage work for exactly two days before Eizabeth presents him with divorce papers. Burt isn’t surprised. Doesn’t try to convince her to stay. The last two days without the buffer that was their child has made him realise how bad they actually are at this. How much Elizabeth has been keeping in and how annoyed and angry he gets at any and everything of hers that reminds of the difference in their class. Her stay at home job, her superior sense of style, her mannerisms and words of choice. Even after 10 years together, and living those 8 years with him in his rundown apartment, she’s still very inexplicably rich and he feels like a hick in front of her. Everything about her that he had found alluring and sophisticated back in highschool now serves as a reminder of how much better than him she is, and Burt hates himself for feeling this way, but they just don’t fit together.

It takes 4 months for the divorce to finalize, it would’ve been a lot faster if Kurt had been present, but neither he nor Lizzy had wanted to have that conversation with her mother. She leaves for France as soon as it’s done though, leaving behind only a phone number mumbling at him to call if he wants to speak with Kurt.

Burt stares at that number, wonders how long he should wait to call, wonders if he even should call. It’s no secret that he and his son don’t share any common interest, and all Burt’s ever done is make Kurt feel uncomfortable with his pushiness, but Kurt’s still his son and don’t all sons need their fathers?

He calls Elizabeth a couple of days before Christmas, demands that at the very least he still wants his son with him for the birthdays and holidays. If she wants to make a crack at his sudden willingness to be a father, she doesn’t do it. And if Burt is surprised at how easily she agrees to the arrangement, he doesn’t show it.

Kurt only comes home for the 25th and the 26th. And if Burt is angry at the beginning about how little time they will have together, by the end of it he’s only thankful. Kurt shows up at the airport with an airhostess next to him in a pair of pressed shorts, suspenders and bowtie, with his shirt tucked in and his hair in a careful side part. Burt can feel the airhostess in charge of his boy judging him when he picks up his son in stained jeans and a wrinkled plaid shirt. It’s the same look people gave him all the time when he walked beside Elizabeth anywhere. He hates that look. At 7 years old, Kurt already has more class in him than his old man.

The next two days, Burt takes Kurt to the garage with him and is pleasantly surprised at how fascinated Kurt is about everything. Kurt talks about his life in France while learning about oil changes, and Burt tries to pay attention to him as he goes on and on about his new school, and his new home, and how nobody makes fun of him and how everybody dresses so nicely, daddy.

Burt cringes slightly at the high pitched daddy but doesn’t say a word.

The arrangement works for a while but not for long. Kurt hates travelling so much. For Easter, for his birthday, for thanksgiving, for christmas. He hates that he can’t spend any of his holidays with anyone except his dad. His english is deteriorating slightly from disuse, and he rants in French when he gets too excited or too nervous. His mother-in-law refuses though to move him, though. Says Kurt is happy where he is and if Burt has that much of a problem with Kurt getting comfortable with French, maybe he should learn the language himself.

A few years later though, Elizabeth calls in the middle of September, when Burt isn’t expecting her in the least,

“Mamma’s opening a new branch of her fashion house in New York next year. She thinks it’s high time New York was graced by the beauty and power that is Alarie. I just think it’s because Kurt’s already been talking about going to college at Parsons. So, we’re moving back to the states this December. I managed to convince her that Kurt is old enough now that if he wants a relationship with his father, she can’t say no to him. We’re still not going to be staying in Lima. But, I’m looking for a house in Westerville.”

“You’re coming back?” Burt still can’t really wrap his head around it.

“Yes. Look, I need to go. I need to pick Kurt up from school. Good bye.” She says and hangs up before Burt can respond.

Blaine attends Westerville Heritage Middle school and is known amongst his peers as some sort of a boy wonder. He’s in AP classes and maintains a straight A grade card. He’s in football and is considered the ace even though he isn’t the quarterback or the captain. And though he isn’t in their school’s choir because of how religious and catholic the whole is, he does sometimes play the organ for them. Even if Blaine didn’t have any of those talents, he’s sure he would be popular enough just based on the fact that he’s one of the very few students who has a chauffeur picking him up and dropping him off every day. Blaine knows he’s not the only rich guy in this school, but he’s probably one of the richest and he’s definitely the least snobby about it. Rich kids usually like to stick to their own groups, but Blaine is too sociable to limit himself like that, so he befriends everybody and is well-liked in return.

It’s in his last year of middle school something interesting finally happens. He’s walking towards his math class after a bathroom break when he sees him coming out of the principal’s office. The hallway is empty because classes started 10 minutes ago, and the new guy looks incredibly confused by his schedule (and he’s definitely new. There is no way Blaine would ever forget a face that pretty). Considering how pretty the boy is, and how social Blaine is, it’s no surprise that he forgets all about math and starts walking towards the new kid instead,

“Hey.” Blaine calls out, and the boy looks up from where he was studying his schedule as if it was an ancient scripture. Blue eyes meet hazel ones and Blaine promptly stumbles on thin air, almost landing face first on the dirty floor,

“Hello?” The new boy’s tone is nervous and a little questioning, but Blaine is having trouble getting over how soft his voice is,

“Hi. You’re new?” Blaine asks, making the other kid blush and look away,

“I stand out a lot?”

Blaine wants to say yes. Yes because you look like an angel and sound like an angel and breathe like an angel excuse me, maybe, are you possibly an angel? But Blaine also really doesn’t want to look like a crackhead. Blaine shakes his head no, notices how thick the other boy’s accent is. European. But, his english is confident too, so at least, he’s fluent.

“Not at all. You just looked a little confused.” He says and motions towards the schedule the boy is holding,

“Oh. Yes, This is a little confusing. I am supposed to go to different rooms for different classes?”

Blaine chuckles lightly, the boy looks adorable with the confused furrow of his brows, “I take it you’re not from the States.”

“No. Yes- I mean, I am American. Just, I was in France for most of my elementary and middle school.”

“So, what brings you to little old Ohio?”

The boy smiles, as if Blaine’s just made a joke, “My Nanna needed to move to New York for a while, and my mom wanted me to get closer to my father who lives in Lima, so we moved here.”

“Hmm.” Blaine makes grabby hands for the schedule and says, “Gimme, I’ll show you how to figure this place out.”

The relief on the boy’s face is so stark it makes Blaine laugh, “Thank you so much. I’m Kurt, by the way. Kurt Alarie-Hummel.”

Blaine blinks, “Alarie? You’re from France? Alarie like the fashion house?”

“Yes, you know it?” Blaine nods,

“I’m Blaine Anderson. Like the ANDRSN magazine? My mother likes to keep on top of things like these.”

“Oh! I love ANDRSN! I started reading them a couple of years ago when I was stuck at my Nanna’s office and ran out of vogue. Their 2008 summer issue is probably my favorite cover of any magazine yet.”

Blaine laughed, and before he could question himself too much, he took Kurt’s hand and squeezed, “I believe we’re going to get along great, Kurt.”

And they do. Blaine helps Kurt adjust to the american school system, showing him around town on weekends, taking him to the mall where Kurt looked absolutely appalled by the selection of clothes they sell, he takes him to dinner in lieu of showing him diners and restaurants and places to eat. Neither of them call the outings dates. They’re just getting to know each other. Becoming close friends. But, sometimes when Kurt takes his hand in his across the table at a coffee shop or when Blaine insists on paying the bill for their dinner even though they’re both more than capable of splitting it, neither of them bother to hide their smiles.

Blaine doesn’t think Kurt is having a hard time at school. He has no reason to think so. So, he is definitely shocked at the scene he comes across one day coming out of his AP chemistry class,

Kurt is standing right across the hallway from Blaine’s class, no doubt waiting for him so that they can go study together (Blaine is in dire need of some French lessons, and Kurt is beyond fluent) when he sees 3 guys from the Hockey team coming towards him, carrying a bucket of something or the other in one of their hands. One of them points at Kurt and nudges the guy in the middle, snickering. The guys walk by nonchalantly, so much so that Blaine is sure he’s just being paranoid, but then the make a sharp turn, and just upends the bucket over Kurt, cold water and ice cubes raining on him as he freezes under the assault, head ducking down, and shoulders going high, his eyes are squeezed shut against the pain and mouth open to gasp out a breath,

Blaine doesn’t even think, he runs over, feeling a kind of rage building up inside him aimed at those stupid laughing buffoons like he hasn’t ever felt before,

“What do you think, princess? We’re just trying to help you live up to your name.” One of those guys laughs again, but Kurt doesn’t say a word, Just forces his body to relax against the cold and corrects his posture. His cold blue eyes regard them with no emotion, and slowly their laughs die on their lips,

“What the fuck you looking at, you freak?!” And that’s when Blaine steps in, pushing the guys away from Kurt when they start closing in on him and standing between,

“Back off, Reynolds.” He spits out, and though their looks of contempt don’t shift, the guys do take a step back,

“This doesn’t concern you, Anderson.”

“Fuck it doesn’t! You mess with Kurt again, I’ll have you pulled out of the hockey team.” Blaine says, then raises a brow, “The principle really likes my dad, you know?”

It’s a low blow, using his last name like that to get what he wants, and usually, Blaine would never do something so cliche. He likes depending on his skills and talents rather than his parent’s money. But, this is Kurt. And if there is anything Blaine has figured out about himself in the past couple of months, it’s that there are not a lot of things that he wouldn’t do for Kurt.

When the idiots walk away, Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and pulls him towards the boy’s locker room. Kurt stays strong and still till he’s in the hallway, but as soon as Blaine closes the door to the locker room behind him, Kurt’s shivering and coughing and getting out of his wet clothes as fast as he can,

“Here, go take a hot shower. I’ll get you some of my gym clothes, okay?” Blaine waits for Kurt to nod, and then goes to his locker to take out his towel, a spare t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he keeps for gym. The shower starts running, and Blaine focuses on calming himself down. The confrontation is over. He would be no help to Kurt now by being angry.

Kurt turns off the shower, and turns around to see that Blaine’s already laid out a towel and some clothes on the bench. He quickly towels off and changes, walking over to the other side of the lockers to find Blaine shaking off his sopping wet clothes and trying to fold them without getting wet himself,

“You don’t have to do that-” He says softly, but Blaine’s already shaking his head, giving him a small, tired smile,

“It’s fine. Are you cold still?”

“Not anymore. Thank you for the clothes.” Blaine sighs,

“It’s fine, Kurt. You don’t have to be so formal all the time.”

Kurt flinches, and even though he knows Blaine means nothing bad, the word is too close to other meaner words, words like ‘uptight’, and ‘prissy’, and ‘ice queen’,

“I’m not trying to be formal- I.. I’m just grateful.” Maybe it’s the slight desperation in his tone, but it makes Blaine look up at him again, and when he sees the expression on Kurt’s face, he places the wet clothes on the bench and moves closer, placing warm hands on Kurt’s slightly cooler cheeks,

“Those guys, do they pick on you often?”

Kurt hesitates, feels his cheek burn at the lack of proximity between them, “Not- not like that. Never this much. It’s only ever some taunts here and there. It’s okay.”

“Taunts?” Blaine raises a brow,

“Yes, like-”

“Like ‘princess’?”

“Like ‘Ice Queen’ and ‘Prude’ and ‘That guy with the stick up his ass’.”

Blaine scowls, his eyes darkening, “Kurt-”

“I’m not trying to be, I swear. It’s just… It’s a little difficult for me to open up like this-”

“God Kurt, You’re doing nothing wrong. Those guys are just assholes, okay?”

Kurt doesn’t speak for a moment. Blaine is still holding him by his cheeks. He averts his eyes because he can’t turn his face, “You are very friendly with everyone here-”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be just as friendly. I just have this obsessive compulsion to make everybody like me. It’s not something I always enjoy about myself. Trust me. You’re perfect. You don’t have to have a hundred friends to be alright, okay?”

Kurt blinks, “Okay.”

“You just need me. I’ll be enough, okay?”

Kurt smiles, small and shy and tries to duck his head but fails,

“Okay.”

Kurt’s Favorite Cover Of The ANDRSN Magazine