ritusharma011-blog

[wilwheaton]

Do you play online games?

Whether it be like proper console gaming or basic games on your phone

I am so old, my formative experiences with video games were all single player. When multi-player online arrived, it was text-based MUDs (I helped run one, when 28.8 was fast) and that was all the social interaction I ever needed.

Put another way, I prefer my gaming to be quietly alone, or couch co-op with one of my kids. I have found every single online multiplayer gaming community to be so toxic and unwelcoming to new players, I honestly don't know how anyone can endure that shit to get to the good stuff, but like I said, I'm old.

For the last year or so, I've split my time among:

NHL 22 Create a Pro. Blaine Gretzky is in his 8th season of a game that was never intended to be an RPG, but EA vastly underestimated how far a weird nerd will go to make that happen.

Baldur's Gate 3. I'm in the final battle of my second play through because there is no such thing as too much Karlach. But I took a break because I loved the Fallout TV series, so...

Fallout 4 has been my jam for about a month. I loved New Vegas so much I have played all of it I think three times, plus I did all the DLC in a weekend awhile ago. But I never played 4, because I was playing RDR2 or something when it came out, and I never got around to it. I've been playing the hell out of it, and I'm completely obsessed. The world is so much bigger than I expected, and I love building, maintaining, and putting disco balls into all my settlements. I have no idea how far into the story I am, but every night something new and fun happens when I play.

And, finally, Stardew Valley. I am years late to the party, but I wanted something gentle, slow, and meditative for the change of pace from all those other things. I actually came to it because I wanted something like Animal Crossing that wasn't Nintendo-exclusive, and it was like 4 dollars on Steam. I think I have 40 or so hours in it. I'm about to start my first Fall season, and I fucking FINALLY caught a fish. I love how it forces you to pick one or two things to do each game day, so I'm like, "Well, we're clearing trees and rocks today, then I'll water the garden and go to sleep. Tomorrow, I'll take gifts into town." And so on. It shouldn't be as satisfying as it is, but it just works perfectly for me.

Thanks for asking. It's always fun for me to talk about stuff like this long after everyone has lost interest.

[crumb]

Speaking of Randy and the flip phone—i feel like he must be a master at T9 typing, like one handed T9 texting while driving and eyes still on the road responding to his mom in 5 seconds flat because she’s just gonna try calling him if he doesn’t reply quick enough. Benson is old man brained and watches Randy T9 text like he’s David Blaine pulling an object out of his body. Benson’s reaction is a mixture of awe, confusion, and mild disgust.

[bitbybitwrites]

It's been awhile again since I've done any of these - lately computer issues have kept me from writing, but here's a few snippets ( one Klaine and one FirstPrince WIP) that I was working on before my computer decided to be a pain in my ass.

Thanks to the following people for tagging me for WIP Wednesday and Six/Seven/Several Sentence Sunday in the past few weeks ( if I forgot anyone in this list below I'm sorry!):

@taste-thewaste @thighzp @porcelainmortal @getmehighonmagic @littlemisskittentoes

@thesleepyskipper @alasse9 @stratocumulusperlucidus @softboynick @sophie1973

@sheepywritesfics @onthewaytosomewhere

Snippets are under the cut.

***

1.) From If I Can Make Your Heart My Home ( Klaine fic) cc @datshitrandom

“But you never came by when I was awake.”

“I . . I was too afraid to hear what you’d say if you saw me.”

The blood began to pulse in Blaine’s ears.  “What did you think I would have said?”

Kurt sighed.  Now he was the one averting his eyes.

“That you never wanted to see me again.  That you hated me. . .” he murmured.  “I . . I hurt you, Blaine.  I can’t change how badly I fucked up.  I know I did.  I know I did big time.  And . . it was . . it was horrible of me to do everything that I did. Because you are right.  You deserved so much better than that.”

Kurt stood up and began to pace nervously.  “Look.  I was afraid. Hell, I still am a bit.  Afraid that maybe Sebastian was right.”

Blaine sat up straighter at the mention of the younger Smythe’s name. “’What?  What did Sebastian say to you?”

 Kurt flinched at the sharpness in Blaine’s tone.  “He . . he said . .” Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, sinking back into the other end of the couch.  “Sebastian said that . . I was nothing but a novelty to you. A joke . . basically some sort of low brow entertainment for you on the side.  I wasn’t anything that was worth your time. And there was no way I could be able to keep up with your . . lifestyle . . .”

Blaine paled.  “Kurt . . I would never . . you. . .you don’t really believe I felt that way . . .”

Kurt let out a wet laugh.  He shrugged his shoulders.  “No . . but . . Blaine, come on.  What could I possibly give to you?  I can’t take you to fancy restaurants or trips out to the Hamptons. I don’t own a penthouse or a limo.  I don’t even own a restaurant.  I’m just this  . .  this nobody from a rural town in Ohio. . . You’re . .”

“Don’t.  Don’t say it.”

“You’re an Anderson, Blaine.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I might have to disagree.” Blaine muttered

Kurt shook his head, his expression sofenting.  “Look, if you take your father out of the picture, the Andersons are pretty amazing.  They are caring and selfless. They are philanthropic and so loving and open-hearted.  You. . . your brother. . . your grandmother.  You’re all the same.  And it's wonderful.”

*****

2.) From Puppy Love (FirstPrince fic) - cc @omgbarbiegurl

“Now do you have all of your stuff?  Remember you’re at Tia Nora’s tonight.”

Raf nodded.  “I packed everything.  Even a ball so I can play with Tia Nora’s next door neighbor.”

“That’s nice.” Alex said as he hustled around his apartment, shutting off lights.

“He’s adopted and he’s really nice. Sometimes he’s allowed to come over and play with me if I stay over.”

“You finish your homework first, right?” Alex asked

Raf sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Yes.  Tia Nora won’t let me do ANYTHING until I finish my homework first.”

“That’s good.  Glad you made a friend over at Nora’s.”

“Papi?”

Alex  hummed as he started flicking through his phone , partly to see if there were any new work messages from Liam or June, partially to see if Henry had texted him. “Yeah, mijo?”

“Are you sure we can’t have a dog?”

“Raf . .”

“I’d take care of it really well, I promise . .  .” the little boy pleaded.

Alex knelt down as he could be more at eye level.  “Hey, I know you want one.  But it wouldn’t be fair to a puppy to be left alone so much - with my work schedule and then you not even being home at at Tia Nora’s place.”

“But we could bring it there.”

“Tia Nora is doing me a HUGE favor by watching you when she can.  It wouldn’t be fair if I gave her 2 kids to look after - a human one  AND a furry one.”

Raf pouted, crossing his arms.  “I don’t think she’d mind.”

Alex pulled his son into a tight hug.  “Once everything kind of slows down and we can get things settled so we’re home more, we’ll look into it.  Until then, you always can come with me to the rescue and help out playing with the animals who don’t have homes yet.  They get pretty lonely there sometimes.”

A small dramatic sigh erupted from the small frame in Alex’s arms.   He had to bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. 

“OK . . but can I do it soon?” Raf asked.

“I’ll check the schedule with Tia June and we’ll see what we can do.”

“¿Prometes? (You promise)” Raf asked as he held out his pinky to his dad eagerly.

“Si.  Lo prometo, mijo.(Yes, I promise, son.)” Alex said with a smile.

****

And for anyone who may want to play . . a BIG OPEN TAG . . but also:

@myheartalivewrites, @gleefulpoppet @wowbright @14carrotghoul @iboatedhere

@itsmaybitheway @little-escapist @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @sarkyblueeyes @tailsbeth-writes

@rmd-writes @cha-melodius @madas-ahatters-world @kirakiwiwrites @shegoestoeleven

[adankrivervalleynearyou]

There’s no way Sebastian doesn’t know what he’s doing. With the mischievous, viridescent gleam in his eye and the big Cheshire Cat grin on his face, there’s no way he’s not up to something. Blaine can tell he’s someone who likes to get what he wants, being the son of a State’s Attorney and all that rich-white-people shit.

What Blaine wants, though, is for Kurt to stop looking at him like he killed his mom. He wasn’t the one who agreed to go to Scandals with the guy. He doesn’t really want to spend all night watching Kurt, his boyfriend whom he loves dearly, and Sebastian, a nauseatingly gorgeous boy he’s known for all of one hour and who seems determined to get into his pants, at a gay bar circling each other like wolves fighting over prey. Especially because in this scenario, Blaine is the prey.

Blaine’s interrupted from his brooding, face-down on his bed wearing one of his mom’s hoodies, when his phone buzzes. He rolls over with a grunt, pushing his ungelled hair out of his eyes and looking at his phone.

[Unknown Number] Hey, it’s Sebastian. Duval gave me your number so we could talk Warbler to Warbler.

Something anxious and squirmy shoots up his spine, right alongside an electric, excited feeling. He promptly ignores both and adds the number to his contacts.

You’re one of those jocks who calls everyone by their last name, aren’t you?

[Sebastian] I don’t know where you could’ve gotten that impression, Anderson.

Blaine, horrifyingly, feels himself smiling. He pushes down his giddiness like he’s trying to stamp out a fire.

You sure made an impression on my boyfriend.

Why’d you invite us to Scandals anyway? Trying to sow seeds of destruction?

[Sebastian] I’m flattered that you think I’m that maniacal.

Are you saying you’re not?

[Sebastian] I’ll let you figure that out for yourself, pretty boy.

Blaine’s traitorous, unfaithful heart pulses with warmth, and his breath catches on something. He clutches the hoodie tight to him, hoping it might soak up the sick, guilty feeling in his chest.

full fic here

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 ao3

They end up watching Casablanca thanks to Robin bringing the VHS over. For the majority of the movie, it’s not a serious watch at all; they’re all happily talking over scenes, slapping each other’s hands away whenever one of them gets too close to another’s pizza order.

It’s comfortable, like they’ve known each other for years and years: instinctively able to tell whenever someone’s wrapped up in the movie and falling quiet accordingly, before launching back into chatter again when the moment’s passed.

Eddie silently entertains himself with imagining how he would react to all of this only a few months ago—not the whole alternate dimension related horrors, just the fact that he’s having a ‘Casablanca impressions contest’ in Steve Harrington’s living room, in which Robin Buckley is beating him soundly.

“Steve,” she says, still in Rick Blaine’s drawl, “I gotta ask you something.”

It seems like Steve can’t hear her, but Eddie knows it’s an act when he briefly presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

“Oh, sorry,” Steve says, exaggeratedly turning from the T.V to Robin, “it’s like he’s in the room with us.”

Robin throws a cushion at his face. Dropping the voice, she says, “I forgot I didn’t bring anything to sleep in.”

This time Steve doesn’t try and conceal his smile, though he does turn to Eddie, mouths bullshit.

Eddie hides his laugh with a well-timed bite of pizza; Steve keeps smiling like he saw it anyway.

“Sure, go ahead.” Steve gestures upstairs with a nod of the head, sighing like it’s a chore. “It’s not like you do this every damn time.”

Robin jumps up in triumph. “Steve,” she says, the drawl returning, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Steve throws the cushion back at her; she dodges it with an uncoordinated leap before bounding upstairs.

“She thinks I don’t notice whenever I’m missing a shirt,” Steve mutters. He rolls his eyes as he says it, but the fondness is obvious, and he must catch something of Eddie’s thoughts on his face, because he says, “What?”

“Nothing,” Eddie says—thinks once again about how natural Robin and Steve are with each other, like siblings; that such a closeness is never a guarantee, but it’s a choice they’ve made, one they keep on making, rather than being born into it. “Just noticed that you didn’t put your hat in the ring for impressions.”

Steve laughs. “That’s cause I knew Robin would win.”

“Well, guess we’ll never know…”

Steve shrugs. “Guess not.”

Eddie scoffs, mimes casting a fishing line. “You’re meant to take the bait, Harrington.”

Steve opens his mouth presumably to retort, but the sound of the phone ringing interrupts him; Robin calls from upstairs, “I’ve got it!”, and he shouts back, “Sure, thanks!”

“That’s what she did with our phone call,” he adds to Eddie, “probably sneaking around in my room so she could find a shirt she wanted.”

It’s said with affection, like he knew that’s what she would have been doing all along.

The phone call must be a short one, because Robin’s back downstairs in less than five minutes, dressed in a royal blue shirt that’s faded with age. Steve softens when he sees it, and as Robin gets closer, Eddie makes out yellow letters across the front: Free Concert Central Park.

Steve catches Eddie’s eye, smiles like they’re sharing a secret.

Then Robin makes for the couch they’re both on: Steve at one end, Eddie at the other. She flops in the space between them, tips over so she’s upside down, feet dangling over the top of the couch, head lolling down halfway towards the seat.

Eddie gently prods her foot; she’s got one threadbare sock on, a hole at the big toe. “What’s up, Buckley?”

“It was Nancy,” she says. Her head tilts in Steve’s direction when she adds, “She asked if she could come over tomorrow, like, late afternoon? And if it’d be okay if she brought Holly.”

“Yeah, ‘course it’s okay,” Steve says. “She didn’t need to ask.”

“Yeah, I told her you’d say that.” Robin sighs, long and heavy. “She was… quiet. I… I hope I helped—”

“Rob,” Steve interrupts, not unkindly, “you will have, don’t—”

“It’s just—” Robin breaks off with another sigh, hands flexing like she’s grappling for the words. “Sometimes I worry that—okay. Do you ever get the feeling… kinda like stage fright? But more… I remember in middle school, a girl in my class phoned asking for my help with homework, and all I could think was oh, now it’s my job to be the Homework Girl, I’ve gotta my lines right. You know?”

Steve frowns, says, “I mean—” at the exact same time that Eddie says, “Yeah.”

Robin rises at Eddie’s agreement, moving until she’s perched upright on the top of the couch.

“It’s like… it’s like I can sense so badly that she needs… I don’t know! A friend, or just someone to tell her…” Another sigh. “See, that’s the thing, I don’t even know what. I’m, like, so focused on the fact that she needs something, that whatever I say, I can’t mess it up, and then whatever I do say is… useless.”

Eddie’s eyes dart between the two of them—Robin’s uncertainty, how Steve’s frown makes him seem… conflicted.

“Robin, I get it, but it—it won’t be useless. Promise.”

“At least she phoned,” Robin goes on, pensive.

“Yeah,” Steve says. He looks off to the side, and he goes somewhere—Eddie doesn’t know where, but he can tell somehow that it’s not about the night he saw the clock, or at least not entirely.

Robin must sense it, too, because she goes still on the couch. “Steve?”

Steve breathes out, rubs a hand over his mouth. “There’s… there’s some stuff I wanna say,” he says hesitantly, “but it’s… complicated. It’s—it’s not mine to—it’s hers, but…”

His eyes drift again, this time over to the windows; the only thing to see outside is the pool, the water covered with tarp and a thick layer of leaves from last fall. When he turns back, he takes another big breath like he’s steeling himself.

“Look, this is… in, like, confidence, all right? It’s… I don’t think she’ll ever talk about it herself. And obviously I know you won’t, um, bring it up to her, but I think—if she’s… it’s something you might need to know.”

There’s something about the way he phrases it, like he’s walking a tightrope. It makes Eddie think of a morning in 6th grade where a kid’s mom had died the night before, but she was going into class anyway, and the homeroom teacher had warned them in advance before she’d come in late. That the instruction to be extra kind to her, to only talk about the whole thing if she brought it up felt woefully inadequate, but also all they could do.

“You kinda got an… abridged version of everything,” Steve says, eyes on Eddie. “So, back when… um, with Will, and… Barb. Barb Holland died. And she—she—”

“It wasn’t a chemical leak,” Robin says. There’s a tone to her voice, Eddie thinks, like these are suspicions she’s already had; but the way she’s looking at Steve with wide eyes suggests it’s never been talked about, not really.

“Right,” Steve says softly. “Nance, she—she got this journalist to, like, expose Hawkins Lab because… Barb’s parents, they still had hope, y’know? Nance wanted to go further than the cover-up story, but she had to fight even for that, so…”

Eddie recalls Murray’s voice down the phone: “Got enough leverage to take a story, water it down until it’s just ripples in the pond, softly softly, yeah?”

Understanding sinks heavily into his stomach, like rocks hitting the bottom of a creek.

“Barb… she died here, in the pool.”

The rocks in Eddie’s stomach turn to ice.

He sucks in a sharp, horrified breath; as Robin, if possible, becomes even more still, Steve keeps talking.

“Not—it wasn’t… Shit, sorry. We didn’t see what… but eventually, we. We knew. And it—it wasn’t like how it was with Chrissy, or… There wasn’t a Gate. There wasn’t anything.” Steve looks outside again, says quietly, “Trust me, I checked.”

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers.

“But Nance, she… It was after Barb’s funeral in ‘84. Before… I know it was before Christmas, but I don’t… Anyway, I came home from school, and the front mat was lifted up, and the spare key was gone, and… It was Nance. She was in the pool.” Steve swallows. “She’d turned off the heating. And she—it’s like she couldn’t hear me. She just kept diving down to the bottom, kept feeling every damn tile. Her hands, they—I had to jump in and pull her out.”

Eddie glances at the pool, and it doesn’t matter that the cover and leaves obscure it in reality; in his mind’s eye he can still see the ghostly glow of the water. Can see Nancy repeatedly trying to dive, Steve desperately calling her name—both of them shaking from the cold.

He thinks of Steve insisting that he’d make the dive at Lover’s Lake. “It’s gotta be me.”

“God, it was awful,” Steve says. “She just… she just went silent, most she talked was fucking apologising for using some towels to get dry. Then she left and—that was it. Never brought it up again.”

There’s a heavy pause.

“You know how we were during Starcourt?” Robin says, fragile. “Like, when everything was… spilling out.”

Steve’s face screws up a bit. “In more ways than one.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks, really hate how all that’s a casual reference point for you two.

“I think Nancy might be… the opposite,” Robin says slowly. “If there was a drug that made you just… go quiet. And I think she’d—” Robin exhales. “She’d put the needle in herself.”

It looks like the sheer weight of that hits Steve all at once. He closes his eyes. “Shit,” he breathes.

Eddie wants to hold him through it. Desperately wants to make it better. Knows that he can’t—that the only thing that would fix it would be Nancy and Steve never needing to dive into a freezing pool.

The movie keeps playing through the long silence. It’s almost over.

“But I’ve got a job to do, too,” urges Rick Blaine. “Where I’m going you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do you can’t be any part of.”

Eddie looks away from the screen, tries not to think of Steve staring out into the road. Fails.

They’re almost too far away to touch. But Steve manages to press his foot against Eddie’s.

I’m here.

Eddie feels Robin shift along the couch, feels her hand gently squeeze his shoulder. For a moment, it’s like they’re all connected through one touch.

And they breathe.

[alessabriel]

Gunshot - Pt2.

Summary: the unknown lives in the dark and the dark finds a home in empty chests.

Cw. Angst, dark content, death of the main character, slight combination between mdzs|wwx, male reader= Blaine, etc.

Pt1. 

Blaine tried to regulate his breathing, he really was trying but it was like he was trying to suck a vine of thorns up his nose. He was trying to hold his breath long enough to relax his rapid breathing and get air into his rusty lungs but he couldn't, it was a daunting task. His hands trembled, making him unable to search his pockets for the lighter to have something cold between his boiling fingers and he felt his heart hammering his chest mercilessly, as if it wanted to grind the organs that protected him to reach his ribs and destroy them, his overloaded heart that pumped blood throughout his body as a result of his own fear.

Because he was afraid, he was terrified in a horrific way and to admit it was his undoing, he felt like pulling out of his own body in a painful way.

It had taken him days to run away from his brothers as well as from them, those people who wanted him dead for what he needed in his chest and compensated with what he could. So much was the persecution that it reached a limit, a clear limit that was the total break and could not overcome it. He was barely able to breathe. The litany of voices riddled his head with lethal force and the equivalent of pure acid began to circulate in his veins, the unknown that he began to control little by little raised the trail of dead around him but the growing panic prevented him from seeing further. of the tunnel in his eyes. Because the only objective in his hands was to call him, to hear his calm voice caressing his ears and feel human, to feel in the old days where the greatest danger in his day in the morning was to annoy him and annoy him to the degree that the they will be expelled from the classroom.

I needed to hear his voice one last time, because I knew it; it would be the last time for him.

Blaine knew that this day was his last, he felt it in his bones and blood running through his battered body, broken bones and wounds that would not heal from his own desire to melt into the comfort of eternal rest. . That's why he required it, it didn't matter that they tracked him down with it because he only wanted to hear his voice over the guttural voices of the dead.

Just a little more.

The phone rang with the tones in his ear, now so sensitive but he resisted it and the pattern of his single breathing urged a putrid calm, an inhalation of fresh, optimal air into his lungs stagnant in dirty air. Blaine couldn't help laughing, making fun of his current situation when he saw how little by little those who he killed in his fight to flee got up again and in the distance he saw the cars approaching, where he knew they would shoot him for what they didn't know and he could control, or rather understand and appropriate it.

"Morgan!" was the relieved greeting that Blaine issued, raising his hand to do something for the dead, however only a few obeyed and his blood ran cold, just seconds "What?"

He felt beads of icy sweat running down his battered muscles, his blood froze and he couldn't think past his panic, he was terrified. Blaine came to himself a few seconds later, holding his gun in hand, his bullets would do little against the dead but they would give him time, he only needed a few minutes. Just a few minutes.

"Thank you for being my friend and sorry for not being able to keep our promise"

He could feel his panic filter through the call, the sounds of movement, the rustle of metal against the uneven engraving of the unknown field and the slip of a new cartridge, a distinctive sound from a Heckler & Koch VP9 semiautomatic pistol he always held. near him, a weapon that his father detested. The call was just a distraction from the slow approach of those who belonged to that organization who were now dead.

"Blaine don't you dare-"

"I've always been daring Morgan, it's my hallmark-" and Blaine's voice cut off as he spit out a large amount of blood, a rusty blood that lightened his chest for seconds so he could feel the painful beating of his heart "Could you forgive me some day?"

"Just wait for me please" Blaine heard Morgan's plea on the other end of the call and the one-handed pistol, when he was at his best it was easy but now he was inches away from powerless, his fingers no longer responded " Blaine try I beg you"

"I-I can't" was the painful response that emerged from Blaine still holding the phone to his ear and trying to get a good aim at the cars that were approaching in the distance, some shots stopped them but he knew how stubborn those families were. archaic.

"Stay with me, please" the other male voice on the call sobbed in plea.

Blaine just smiled at what he knew would happen, and he made up his mind, he would not make his best friend and soul mate listen to what would happen to him or what the living dead would do to him.

"See you later"

And the call was cut off, as if it were a signal, the dead who were still staggering began to run possessed by some alien force, even more violent and visceral than their own towards the wounded young man who was leaning on his motorcycle, a motorcycle that had passed due to so many paint changes and repairs that made it a preserved relic, if he closed his eyes he could remember staying in the cave fixing it with a pair of clear eyes watching him fascinated or listening to his commander's advice and the change in the air made him return to reality, face to face with what had been his salvation at one time.

Sounds from hell itself echoed through the air announcing a farewell.

That was all the signal it took to lunge forward and over his own master, who controlled them for a while to tear everything in his path and bite. Destroying in a burst of alien force and not equal to the warm sensation of being handled with a macabre sweetness with putrid bodies, was not what they knew.

Blaine felt faint when he destroyed that damn artifact that he created to hold on to what made him the way he was before, he destroyed it and that only ensured more violence in his death. It didn't matter, he took the whole damn artifact melting it back to what it originally was; blood and flesh that they took from his body (he still remembered their laughs and they scratched him until they tore him) devoid of that core that they took from him, that core that worked so hard and was taken from him. I just fervently wish I had a hug from Alfred or Morgan, just one.

They were feverish wishes and dreams of someone dying.

The disgusting beating of his heart was sweet and acid, but he cradled it against himself, they were his, they were acceptable, and he inhaled deeply through so much immense pain and never had the opportunity to exhale.

Not even at death's gates could he be at peace.

Had it been so bad to kill those men?

Was it too bad to think differently?

Was it wrong to agree to train like his father? But he had always admired him. Had he done wrong?

Was it his fault for not being like him?

Was he really as bad as they claimed?

Did she deserve to have the gold forcibly ripped from his chest for someone else?

Did he deserve to have taken from him what made his chest warm and gave him strength? Why did his father allow it? Why did he let them? BECAUSE?

Had it been bad?

Was a rule more important?

Why did HE allow it?

Was this payment for being the way he was?

Was he to blame for everything?

Did he bring misfortune to everyone as they said?

Was he really that bad?

He had no answer to any of them and if anyone knew the last thing Blaine thought, they would feel a crushing uneasiness and heartbreaking melancholy.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hello To All!

Hope you all are enjoying your weekend! I read on my phone and I’m not able to find stories. If there’s a way, please tell me how.

Please suggest adult stories for me with a great/happy ending. I prefer chapter stories of adult Klaine. Any suggestions are welcome. Need something to read tonight. Thank you for all you do!

Hello, when I search from my phone, I go onto our libary blog and into the "magnifying glass/search" at the top. I type in a particular word like "adult" or "enemies to lovers" and then a whole lot of previously recommended fics appear. Alternatively download A03 app, and you can search and filter on it.

Also on AO3 check out our 2023 Klainebingo which has 191 tagged stories written 2016-23 that fandom have recommended - not all adult klaine, but definitely worth looking at.

What I've done is made a list of recommendations here of some of Klaine fics I've enjoyed, where they are adults, or mostly post college age. Some newer, some older. ~ Jen

Seven by @scatterthestars

How far would you go for someone you love? For Kurt, that means doing the unimaginable. But if it means saving his dad, he's willing to take that risk. A risk that has him leaving his home to go states away to spend a week with the last person he ever expected to meet. Over the course of the next seven days, things don't go as planned, or thought.

Can seven days change everything?

~~~~~

Feel my heart's intention by @kurtsascot

Blaine started to hate Kurt on his first day. And it was a shame, really, because they could have been cute together. 

~~~~~

Falling for You By @caramelcoffeeaddict Coffeeaddict80

A fic written based off a mash-up of these two prompts from the @gleepotluckbigbang prompt page -- Prompt1: During rehearsal I tripped and fell into the orchestra pit and landed on you Prompt2: I have to share a dressing room with the most obnoxious, self-centered jerk; and when you sent flowers to our dressing room, they took them assuming they were for them but they were really for me Featuring: Broadway!Kurt, PianoPlayer!Blaine, Obnoxious!Broadway!Sebastian

~~~~~

Rock, paper, scissors by @gleefulpoppet

Kurt and his seven-year-old daughter are moving from the hustle and bustle of New York to the Rocky Mountains for a fresh start. On a connecting flight from Atlanta, they meet a warmhearted man who captures their attention with his enthusiasm. Will they ever see him again? And even if they do, how will he fit into their new life?

~~~~~

Nashville! by @hkvoyage

Kurt lands the lead role in a new musical, but it flops during the previews. However, his performance captivates Nashville’s newest country music sensation. They share an instant connection and it grows deeper as they get to know each other. Will Kurt be able to save the musical and keep the man of his dreams? An AU meeting featuring country singer!Blaine and Broadway!Kurt.

~~~~~

Made to keep your body warm by @quizasvivamos

Blaine is a meteorologist who works as a weatherman for a local New York news station where he's especially well-known for predicting storms. But, when a huge nor'easter blows in and the news crew is trapped at the station for three days by snow, can he predict what happens when he meets a young new intern?

~~~~~

If music be by @blurglesmurfklaine

Kurt’s just trying to survive his last semester of college, which means making it through student teaching in one piece.

~~~~~

In my place by @heartsmadeofbooks

Blaine has always been shy and introverted, so after his father dies, he looks for comfort into his childhood dream - owning a bookstore. But then Kurt Hummel walks into his life, turning his dream into a complicated affair.

~~~~~

These inconvenient fireworks by @redheadgleek

After an unexpected Tony award, Kurt Hummel is Broadway's hottest up and coming star, which comes with expectations and some admirers that won't take a hint. When his best friend Elliott Gilbert suggests that they pretend to date to get the leeches to back off, Kurt takes him up on the idea. It's all working out great - until Kurt starts to fall hard for the dark-haired music director of his latest musical.

~~~~~

Scenes from December by @spaceorphan18

An exploration of Kurt's life throughout various Decembers. The story of family and how the definition of family changes over time.

~~~~~

Home away from home by @lilyvandersteen

Cooper buys a hotel sight unseen and asks Blaine to run it for him over the summer. Only, the hotel is a health and safety hazard and Inspectors Hummel and Abrams are hell-bent on closing it down. Can Blaine spruce the hotel up in time and save Cooper's investment?

~~~~~

Living Haphazard by anna_timberlake @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion

Have you ever thought of getting cheated by a house broker and getting to know that you had to stay with another stranger who was also cheated? What if you are getting stuck up with the stranger in the apartment due to unavoidable circumstances? What if you hate him as well as have a crush on him? What if you had to fight your inner self and the stranger? What if he agreed on helping you which can only happen in dreams? This is a real living haphazard, isn't it?

~~~~ Someone like you by @iconicklaine

Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of "When Harry Met Sally" for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is... they're both in committed relationships.

Note: This story is AU after "Sexy" and assumes Kurt and Blaine graduate from Dalton in the same year. In this future fic, set in 2025, Blaine is based off of Season 2 Blaine. Originally posted on LJ and S&C.

~~~~~

The Journeying By @flowerfan2

Freshly graduated from music school, Blaine is thrilled when he is chosen to stay in the cast when the production of Into the Woods he was lucky enough to be part of in Boston moves to Broadway. He knows it’s going to be hard returning to New York City – the scene of his epic breakup with his fiancé and the emotional meltdown which cost him his place at NYADA. But he’s determined that this time, everything will be different. Little does Blaine know that out of thousands of potential castmates, his director has chosen none other than Kurt Hummel to play the part of Jack. Blaine has worked hard to recover from their breakup three years ago, and struggles to find a new way to relate to Kurt and simultaneously protect himself, especially when tragedy strikes.

This story looks at what would have happened if Kurt and Blaine had reacted differently to the break up in 6x01 than they did in canon; if events hadn’t brought them back together as soon, and if forgiveness hadn’t come so easily.

[wowbright]

Fic: Communication

Fandom/pairing: Glee, Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023

Words: ~1000 words                                

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Elder Nixon games Blaine an opportunity to stay connected with Kurt.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Out of Eden, which I am still in the process of posting to AO3. It’s among the likely possibilities for their future. This takes place after yesterday's post, Paper Boats. Elder Nixon is Warbler Trent. Warning for dysfunctional family dynamics.

* * *

On their way back from an appointment on the south end of town, Elder Nixon turned his bike into the parking lot of the Media Markt and came to a stop at the bike rack.

“What are we doing here?” Blaine asked. “You need a new battery?”

“Nope.” Elder Nixon swung off his bike and parked it into the rack in a single practiced move. “We're getting you a new phone.”

“I don't need a new phone. Mine’s working fine.”

“Not a mission phone. Your own phone. So you can call Elder Hummel.”

Blaine's mouth fell open of its own accord. “But... But... That's against the rules.”

“Regeln, schmegeln,” Elder Nixon replied, which translated roughly to rules, schmules—well, assuming that schmegeln wasn't a real German word, and Blaine didn't think it was. “Come on. Let's go. No dilly dallying. We still need to make our next appointment.”

Blaine followed his companion in a daze. He'd heard of missionaries sometimes keeping secret phones, but it had never occurred to Blaine to do that himself. Partly because it was against the rules—not that Blaine abided by every single rule, but this one seemed fairly harmless and maybe even good, because it kept missionaries focused on their companions for emotional support instead of the outside world. And partly because he was terrible at keeping secrets, as evidenced by him blubbering out the entire story of him and Kurt to Elder Nixon after they got back to the apartment from their proselytizing and paper-boat-making in the park.

As they approached the phone department, Blaine's heart filled with hope. He could talk to Kurt again. He could hear his voice. They could send text messages to each other—stupid, silly, mundane messages that said little on their own, but added up to a connection—a real connection across an ocean of distance.

But.

Blaine tugged Elder Nixon’s sleeve. “I can't.”

“You need help paying for it?”

“No. It's not that. It's...” Don't expect anyone to coddle you, Blaine. You're already going to have it so easy. You're going to be in Germany, one of the richest nations in the world. The food will be great and your electricity will always be on and you'll have clean, running water and a bank card that your brother will keep adding money to even though I've told him not to. It will be nothing like my mission. You're not going to lose forty-two pounds just by accident because you're sick half the time and the other half, all you have to eat is gruel. When I was a missionary, we even had to buy our own name tag, and now they just give it to you. And we had to wait until we were 19, live on our own for a bit and prove we were mature before we could go. The prophet's decision to lower the age to 18 was inspired, of course, but it makes it all the more important that you go into the situation with no expectation of anyone taking care of you. You need to be responsible for yourself. You need to give absolute obedience to your leaders. If you keep your focus one-hundred percent on the mission and not on your own petty wants, it will still challenge you enough to make you into the man God intends you to be.

Blaine had made it so long without his father living inside his head. But with Kurt gone, he was back in there, telling Blaine how to live and what to think and how to feel, making Blaine fearfully aware of what a disappointment he was to his family.

“I need to tough it out,” Blaine said.

Elder Nixon looked skeptical. “Says who?”

“Everyone.”

“Not everyone. I'm not telling you to tough it out, and I'm pretty sure Elder Hummel would be delighted if you didn't tough it out, and I personally know at least a dozen missionaries with their own phones—”

“A dozen? You know that ‘a dozen’ literally means ‘twelve,’ right? It's not just another word for ‘a few.’”

“I know what ‘a dozen’ means, Elder Anderson.”

“Wait. Do you have a phone? I mean, your own one?”

“No. But I don't need one. You do. You're sad and you're heartbroken for no good reason, because the guy who you're heartbroken over is totally in love with you and wants to hear from you.”

“I write him,” Blaine said defensively.

“Look. This isn't like popping caffeine pills or getting addicted to chocolate-covered espresso beans. Those things are harmful. But talking with the people you love? That's a good thing. And if you need me to put it in terms of metrics, Elder Anderson, it's distracting you from the work. I think, if you could actually talk to Elder Hummel, it would make you a better missionary.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. Remind me, how many people did you two baptize together?”

“Well, it depends how you count—”

“How many?”

“Eight.”

“Sounds like talking with Elder Hummel makes you a better missionary.”

Blaine knew it was true. He had been a better missionary when he'd been with Kurt. He'd been more loving and patient, and he’d truly been able to listen to people—not like lately, when he missed half the things people said to him because their words got all garbled up in his grief over Kurt and flashbacks to painful conversations with his father.

Elder Nixon patted Blaine’s shoulder. “I'm not going to force you to buy a phone today. But I want you to consider it—not just in your mind, but in your prayers, too. I'll pray about it with you every day if that's what you need.”

Prayer. Elder Nixon was right. That’s what Blaine needed. Prayer was the thing that brought clarity to things. It was the beam from a lighthouse cutting through the fog.

So, without waiting, Blaine closed his eyes right in the middle of Media Markt. He prayed silently to God about his grief and his fear and the memories that shouldn't be so upsetting because they were only words, and they weren't even words that his dad had meant hurtfully—they weren't angry or abusive or belittling or any of the things Blaine had learned in health class to tell a trusted adult about—but still they cut into him like knives, peeling back his defenses and leaving him raw and wounded and never able to heal.

Blaine remembered Jesus with the woman at the well and again with the adultress and again with the little children, and he heard—not in his ears, but deep inside where the Holy Ghost spoke to him—That's not the way I love. I love with open arms.

Blaine opened his eyes. “I should get a smartphone, right? The messaging would be cheaper that way.”

Elder Nixon smiled.

[lusthurts]

sebastian and blaine for the character asks <3

ahhh hi bestie im so excited to yap about these two <333

sebastian smythe

how I feel about this character

Sebastian is the love of my life <3 I'm obsessed with writing this character and reading this character and consuming any and all content related to this character.

I have sooooo many head canons about him, and the way I feel about him/his backstory/his personality has evolved a ton over the years, even since I've been writing about him. He has that snark and edge that I love to a character with a clearly very interesting past that we have complete creative liberties to explore. it's so fun and I love him !

all the people I ship romantically with this character

BLAINE! seblaine is of course my otp, and no ship will ever come close to them for me in terms of the extreme brain rot obsession I have because of them - I love that they sort of balance each other out and have this undeniable chemistry that's pretty monumental for both of them and leaves a lot of room for us to explore

I don't think anything will ever come close to them for me, and I fully cannot bring myself to get behind kurtbastian no matter how much I love enemies to lovers as a trope (though when my mutuals write kurtbastian I still try to read it lol)

I did enjoy writing jeff x sebastian in how bright we burn (totally snuck up on me on accident - he needed to be with one of the other warblers for plot reasons and I picked Jeff because they're always in shots together in canon) but that's not something I think I'd ever be super into on like,, a bigger scale - I love it as a platonic ship though

my non-romantic otp for this character

honestly, the warblers as a whole - I really like the idea of Sebastian not really fitting in anywhere/never feeling at home anywhere before dalton and being very reluctant to get close with them at first which resulted in him coming on a little strong/trying to take control rather than trying to develop meaningful friendships, but then by the end he's found he really cares about them and wants them to succeed and finally feels like he's found a home and core group of friends

OH and i ADORE his friendship with cooper in the I'll be there for you series - their dynamic together is fantastic and I think probably the best written friendship for Sebastian that I've ever read

my unpopular opinion about this character

I'm not sure if this is unpopular or not, but I do really like that he's an imperfect person who clearly has a lot of growing up to do. He acts like an asshole and he is one kind of a lot of the time, but even the things he does maliciously aren't meant to be that harmful, and there's clearly a complicated person beneath the surface. I love slutty Sebastian and snarky Sebastian and bullying/blackmail/assault Sebastian so so much

I also don't like the idea of him being "soft" or immediately comfortable in a relationship with blaine just because he's the person he's meant to be with - a lot of my head canons about him revolve around him having a kind of unhealthy relationship with love/relationships, and I don't think it's realistic that they'd just immediately be in a happy relationship. I love fluff as much as the next person, but I definitely don't think their problems end when they get together.

one thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

obviously seblaine - even if they'd just given us a little bit behind the scenes (what were those phone calls and texts??? they were clearly good friends!!)

I wish he'd been around more after season 3 - I realize because of real life reasons this was impossible, and he probably would've been back quite a bit if it wasn't for the flash, but I would've loved to see him develop friendships and plots and sing more songs and maybe have a relationship or two

blaine anderson

how I feel about this character

he's one of my first favorite glee characters and one of the main reasons I still love this show

I think I relate to him more than I relate to any of the other characters in the show - he has that passionate, overachiever, ruthless drive for success thing that Rachel has but he's also clearly very anxious about things and experiences depression and has some attachment issues, and I think all that makes him a much more complicated character than he's given credit for

all the people I ship romantically with this character

Sebastian ofc - see above lol

I used to be a huge blam fan - I haven't read or written them in a long time but I still think this is probably my second favorite blaine ship - they have a lot of chemistry together with a lot of fantastic scenes and development in season 4 specifically, and I think this would've been a cool path to go down during their senior year in the post-kurt/mercedes era

I also used to love klaine (prior to realizing how toxic that relationship was lol) - they were def cute in season 2, and they were probably one of the first queer ships I saw on tv that I felt that attached too. I think if handled better in the later seasons they could've been great, and I think if they're written well they can be a lovely ship - I played blaine in a glee rpg during covid (dark times lmao) and I found writing klaine with a person who really cared for writing Kurt's character well to be super fun

my non-romantic otp for this character

definitely sam & tina! blamtina is my favorite trio in the show, and I think their friendship felt very realistic and well-developed, especially for something that really only existed to that extent for one season

a close second would be rachel - I think blaine and rachel definitely get each other in a way the other new directions don't really, and I enjoy their dynamic a lot, especially in the beginning of season 6

oh and the warblers. he referred to that group as a brotherhood and then just,, left ? makes it hard to believe they were as close as he said, but I also will die on the hill that he must've had strong relationships with those guys if they got him from how he must've felt post Sadie Hawkins to the guy that was confidently singing the lead at every performance

my unpopular opinion about this character

while I do think he was occasionally too whiny and treated as a caricature in the later seasons, I also think a lot of that was the natural progression of his character given the circumstances he was dealing with. I think it's very natural for insecurities to come up when you go from where he was at in season 2 (star/lead vocalist of the warblers, admired and beloved by his peers, confidently helping Kurt through the bullying and trauma of McKinley) to season 3 (ignored/disregarded by ND's leaders like finn, only getting the occasional line or two in performances, treated almost exclusively as Kurt's boyfriend)

he was more interesting in seasons 2 & 4 when he was single than he was at any point during his relationship with kurt

one thing I wish had happened with this character in canon

seblaine !

or honestly getting to see him in any romantic relationship with someone other than Kurt (karofsky doesn't count lol we all collectively pretend that didn't happen)

why do we know like nothing about his life !! he's one of the major characters in the show (second in solos only to Rachel I think?) and yet all we get are a few one off and very concerning lines about his dad??? then his mom randomly shows up at the wedding??? and cooper's there but only for an episode and then never brought up again??? girl what I need to know his lore

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Bury All the Tragedy

(Kill Somebody Like You Part Two Chapter Seventeen)

🔪Previous Parts Here🔪

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats, mpreg), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, past abuse, past SA, threats, cursing, baby fic, family time, Dom in rut, accidental falls, post coital mornings, teasing, risk of (crappy) assassin, past age gap relationship, teasing, playful boys, Blain trying to help, poor birds and bees talk, Dom and Kells attempting to be good parents, grand plans, traps, enemies to lovers ❤️‍🔥 Rating: mature

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🩷

“Don't move.” Colson smirked when his Alpha playfully growled against his shoulder. He had woken up a while before and let himself bask in the morning post coital mess that they were. He needed to piss and chug some water before their son woke up and needed-

“Where the fuck is Punk? Didn't he fall asleep on the bed?” His voice was gravel from all the whimpering and moaning he'd done during their night but alarmed all the same. It had Dom waking up faster and glancing over him.

“Fuck? Punk?” Well just because he was awake it didn't mean his brain was exactly working. Ruts were exhausting and he was still running on fumes and id, his baser instincts- he'd be desperate for another fuck before long and they both knew it.

Kells arched a brow and scoffed at his lover. “What the fuck was that? You think he's gonna answer your ass? Seriously? ‘Punk’? What's he gonna say? ‘Yo dad, I'm in the upside down'?” Even annoyed he wasn't vitriolic. He loved his idiot. It struck him suddenly that he must not be very aware yet either because if their baby wasn't in bed he might have fallen. He moved to look over the bed and Dom’s eyes went wide as his omega pulled off his cock roughly and way too quick. “He's not there. What the hell?” He asked, slipping even further until he could check if the little one rolled off and under the bed. They were close enough to the floor and his carpet was expensive enough to be soft so he wasn't incredibly worried about Punk being hurt. Besides, Alpha babies were strong so they didn't really have to worry about the normal risks but still. He hid under the bed as a boy and the prospect put a pit in his stomach.

“Luv?” Dom’s voice was slightly more alive.

“Where the fuck is our baby?”

“Luv?”

“I can't- I don't see him. It's dark under- give me your phone!”

“Cols!”

“What?!” The boss near shouted as he tried to push himself back up, failed, and fell mostly off the bed. He took a deep breath as he laid in his own wreckage for a moment and watched as his partner leaned over to look at him. The killer raised the edge of a blanket and waved it at him.

“I don't fink we put a blanket on ourselves. Pretty sure our boy is safe and sound in anover room. You ‘urt?”

Colson huffed and shook his head. “Only my fucking pride.”

“Good, nuffin important ‘en. Get back up ‘ere.”

Kells fought a smile. He didn't want to be charmed by his mate being an asshole but that type of humor was one of his love languages. Dom was always so fucking sweet it was nice to see his rut made him a bit of a dick. Or perhaps he just trusted their relationship more finally that he wasn't scared to be playful. He started to push up on his elbows but before he could get very far his fiancé had already rolled off his side of the bed and ran around it to pick him up. It should piss him off to be picked up bridal style and completely nude but with Dom in full rut and putting off mating hormones like a whore house, he was surprised at himself how much he enjoyed it.

“Easy there Gone With the Wind, we should probably make sure you're right before you do anything to get us stuck again. We don't want to look like shit parents already do we?” He teased, patting his lover's chest.

“Gone wiv the wha’ now? Wha’ you even saying?” Dom grumbled but he knew exactly what his mate meant. When Colson just gave him a look he rolled his eyes and gently set him feet first on the floor. His cycle did not want to let them out of bed.

“Besides, if I don't get a drink I might actually get heat stroke.”

“I'll show you a bloody ‘eat stroke.” The Alpha huffed as his lover made his way to their bathroom though Kells stopped and looked back at him.

“What did that even mean? You think my digs are hard to understand? You're a psycho.”

“Sociopath. Not sure ‘ow many times I ‘ave to tell yas.” The killer teased.

Col huffed and shook his head. He had other things to focus on than his silly boy. His bladder was full and there was no time to play, he had to make sure his son was safe. He wouldn't normally worry so much but they'd had multiple people in the Four Seasons bothering them too recently. He would feel like a shit mom if he didn't at least check.

“You seen the Jim phone?” Dom called out from the bedroom and Col realized they hadn't been woken up by any annoying threatening calls all night. That was odd. Jimmy Boy always bothered them.

“No. But I haven't exactly been looking. Be right there.”

Dominic rolled his bottom lip between his fangs and found a pair of shorts to pull on. He wasn't worried about Punk because he trusted his family to watch out for him but he didn't want anyone else messing with the Alpha arse who was trying, albeit terribly, to kill him. He didn't want to risk anyone else becoming a target. “I'll check.” He called back and left the room before Col could respond. That was another problem with his rut, it turned all of his instincts up to eleven- sex and protection among other things. It also made his ADHD an absolute mess and if he found a problem it needed to be solved right away.

He found at least one answer as soon as he opened their bedroom door and it was a relief to see his sons together. He may not have been worried for Punk but it was still nice to have the visual reassurance he had been cared for all night and both boys were asleep together on the couch. Blain had the infant on his chest and they'd obviously crashed watching tv, the light was still flashing on them. What caught his attention next was what worried him though, the other Alpha's cellphone was on the coffee table next to them. Their older boy had snuck in at some point and taken both the phone and the baby. It was a sweet gesture but he still didn't like it. He didn't want the omega any more traumatized by the posh dick.

Before he could step closer and retrieve it his lover walked in behind him and sighed with relief. “Well at least one of us is a good parent.” Col teased about their adoptive son but he knew neither of them wanted that for Blain. Dom had grown up raising his sisters and any other children his parents left in his care. They wanted their boy to have his own time but he seemed to enjoy spending it with Punk.

“He took the phone.” The Alpha gestured to the table and Colson nodded. It didn't worry him but it obviously bothered Dom. “He shouldn't fink he's gotta do tha’! I don't want ‘im to get ‘urt again! I'm supposed to bloody protect ‘im and ‘ere he is-” Before he could finish his rant his young omega was waking up and staring over at him.

“‘Ere I am wha'? Trying to fix wha’ I broke? He's after me ain't he? We used to be friends. You can't treat me like a babe anymore Da, I ain't one. I'm grown enough I could ‘ave one of my own. I jus’ wanted to ask ‘im…” The boy trailed off as he sat up and sighed. There was obviously a weight on his chest more than just his little brother and a pit in his stomach.

“Ask him what kiddo?” Col prompted as he crouched in front of the boy.

Spring green eyes filled with tears as Blain shook his head. The pain in his face grew worse and Colson slid the baby from his arms and handed him to Dom before he sat next to Blain and wrapped him in a hug. He was never very good at emotions but he knew a little more than his partner. “I jus’ wanted to know how the fuck we got ‘ere! He said he loved me and now he's trying to kill my family! I wanted to know how the bloody hell he could be this cold to me after everyfing!”

“What is ‘everything’ if you don't mind me asking? You said before that you let him touch you?” The omega asked gently. It wasn't his business but in a way it was. There were old laws and technically Blain was theirs now. If James did too much against the boy when he was young well… There were always ways of getting revenge.

“Not tha’. Not… not completely. We didn't- I…” The boy blushed. “Jus’ mostly but not- I don't know!”

“Maybe now ain't the time to ask luv, I'm already worked up, we don't need nuffin setting me off on a war paf.” Colson was sure his mate was supposed to sound threatening but his inability to pronounce a damn ‘th’ sound would always make him adorable in the boss's eyes. He couldn't help it.

“Fine, you don't have to answer. I just thought we could use that to get him off our backs.”

“It's been too long and there ain't no proof.” Blain explained sniffling.

“Too long? Wha' ya mean? You barely a teenager!” It certainly didn't take Dom much to get set off but that especially was always his trigger.

“Chill Da, I were twelve I fink. I consented and we didn't-” The young omega’s teeth clinked he shut his jaw so hard the moment he noticed his father's eyes flash red. He'd been trying to fix the problem, not make him angrier. “Is he… growling?” He whispered to his mother and Colson let out a nervous half laugh and shrugged.

“It's not you. He's just a bit…” Well, Col didn't know how to explain a rut without getting too deep about anything else. He wasn't sure he was ready for the full birds and the bees talk, even if his boy knew a lot of truth.

Dominic took a deep breath and tried to shake his rage off. It wasn't directed at anyone in the room and he couldn't do shite about it. He never wanted to scare his family and Blain was looking at him wide eyed. “I'm sorry. It ain't you. Jus' um…”

“For two supposed adults you suck at grown up talk. I'm old enough to know wha’ a rut is. Ya do remember I've ‘ad multiple Alpha's trying for me yeah? Ain't daft. Besides, the bloody internet exists.” It was the adults turn to flush and it made Blain feel warmth that he was able to make them squirm. He knew it meant they cared and wanted to do right by him. “James ‘ad one when… I ‘elped him.”

Of course that revelation set the Alpha on edge again but he was able to control himself from anything drastic. He had a baby in his arms which seemed to help and with the way his older son looked up at him pleadingly it kept him from running off and doing away with the bastard.

“I'm sorry. I know you're ashamed of me now but I did it cause of love. I thought.” Blain whimpered.

“Wha' the fuck? I ain't ashamed of yas. I'm pissed at ‘im for ‘urting ya. You me son, if you wanna fuck anyfing tha’ moves I'll get yas some rubbers and STI tests. But I want it to be because you feel safe and loved. Jus' like I do wiv ya mum.” Dom explained softly.

“You can't be saying tha’. You can't mean you was each other's firsts?” The boy was shocked and his voice showed it.

Col snorted at the words, he had such a surprised laugh for a reaction and his fiancé just arched a brow at him. “I was his first but… Well uh. He was my first Alpha I willingly got with. Just not my first first.” Colson explained.

“Aye. I was too scared of it until ‘im. But we ‘elped each over. Tha's wha’ love is, you ‘elp each over change and grow. You discover shite tog'ever. I don't want you missing out on summat beautiful cause you ‘ung up on an arse. But neiver one is wrong. Sleeping around or not it's all about wha’ you want, and I would never be ashamed of yas unless you ‘urt someone on purpose by taking away ‘eir consent. You understand?” Dom rarely talked so much and never when he was in rut but he wanted to reassure the boy.

“It's not on you. Okay? Whatever James is doing or whether he listens to you or not… it's not on you. It's on him.” Col tried to help soothe. “We love you the same no matter what.”

“I told him to stop. I didn't bargain. I didn't do shite I jus’... But he says he can't. He says he can never stop. He didn't sound anyfing like himself. He kept talking about family honor and he sounded jus’ like my dad. It was awful.” The boy explained. He looked heartbroken all over again.

“Maybe we should have a meeting with him? Like set a real one up and just fucking talk to him. We can show him our family isn't one to be fucked with. We can set something up here. Downstairs. Or at one of my clubs. Hell, we can throw a fucking party with everyone who works for us and prove how much we have on our side. He thinks he's old mob money but you already took out almost all of them. I can guarantee we're stronger. Let's shove it in his face that we have the power here. He came into my fucking territory with a bullshit threat. Omegas are different here, especially in this family and he fucked with the wrong ones. I mean someday Blain will lead this family if he wants, or at least help. He came to the wrong place. Whether we invite him or not he'll follow wherever we go and if he keeps setting traps for us let's set one for him. What do you think?” Kells finished his rant and looked between his family. Blain just blinked a few times and smirked in a way that would scare the boss if they weren't on the same side, but Dom just made a funny sound as his eyes flashed crimson again.

“I fink I need to take me badarse mate back to bed and find out who's boss.” He purred.

“Dom! Focus up you whore, what do you think of the plan?” Even with the tease he was happy to see his lover so moved by his words. He knew the next round wouldn't be far off and the Alpha was staring at him like a whole ass meal.

“I can't. I mean the plan is perfect but you? So are you.”

“The two of yas, I swear.” Blain laughed and shook his head but he always loved how they loved each other. It just made him sad because he wasn't sure he'd ever feel that with anyone. The only other person he ever trusted had broken his heart but it sounded like his parents had a lovely plan to mend it. What was a little blood and viscera between old lovers? Perhaps he'd ask for James’s heart on a platter to heal his own.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 💛

This wasn't much and it was an interlude to Dom's rut but I haven't been feeling very well lately, I just wanted to make sure to get something out for y'all. This still felt important because they need to figure out what to do with James. Hopefully this plan will help, though it might be a few days before they can leave the flat 🤭 I hope you're enjoying it still ❤️‍🔥🖤

[antisocialmastermind]

Chapter 8

Chap 1 Chap 2 Chap 3 Chap 4 Chap 5 Chap 6 Chap 7 on Ao3

Day 8: DRAIATN = radiant

Elliott doesn’t come home all weekend. Once Kurt’s texted to make sure his roommate is actually alive, he finds himself hoping that Elliott and Sebastian are working through their shit. The Friday phone call had sounded strained from Kurt’s perspective, but surely they can’t be fighting for an entire weekend. Elliott would just come home if that were the case, and he hasn’t. Which is good. Kurt hopes. Even if he’s a little freaked out by his unexpectedly empty apartment.

Kurt considers the strange match of Elliott and Sebastian. He’ll never understand how the quirky, creative, passionate soul that is his best friend could be so drawn to such a buttoned-up, upper-crusty type as Sebastian. But he is. And it’s none of Kurt’s business, this yin and yang dynamic he assumes they have.

So he lets it go, hoping for the best.

He keeps busy all weekend. He cleans the apartment and cooks – spinach-sausage lasagna and a seafood gumbo – so that he and Elliott have reheatable dinners for the week. He does laundry. He sketches a little and sources some raw silk he wants to use in his next piece.

It’s finally Monday. He’s behind the desk at the gallery, nose glued to the laptop screen, when he hears the door whssk open and lifts his head. “Welcome to Muse–” he begins automatically, but cuts himself off when he sees a gigantic mass of orange and burgundy roses marching its way toward him. 

The roses alight on the desk in front of him before their bearer, a tiny woman with lovely green eyes, pokes her head around the enormous bouquet and announces, “Delivery for … Kurt Hummel?” She plonks a small card in front of Kurt and marches back toward the door, where she turns and gazes back at him with interest. “Are you Kurt?” she queries.

When Kurt nods his response, her head tilts slightly to one side. “Burgundy and orange,” she says, and he swears her tone is envious. “You’re doing something right.” And then she’s gone with another little swish of the gallery door. 

Kurt has no idea what the hell that means. 

The roses are amazing. Extraordinary, even. The burgundy roses are so much deeper and richer than typical red ones, and the orange are fiery and intense. There are easily two dozen here – no Baby’s Breath or filler. Just dozens of radiant, luscious-smelling blooms packed tightly together in a large glass vase. The contrast of the two colors together is breathtaking.

The tiny envelope in front him definitely has his name on it. He turns it over and over in his fingers, then puts it back on the desk and turns to the laptop, pecking out a quick query. Orange roses mean ‘fascination, enthusiasm and desire,’ according to the website he’s pulled up, while burgundy roses signify ‘devotion and deep passion.’ 

Passion. No way.

He finally slides his finger under the flap of the envelope and pulls out the creamy cardstock inside. The handwritten note reads simply, I’m afraid it’s I who made a poor first impression. Reconsider. Dinner? —Blaine.

No way.

Without thinking, Kurt drags the bouquet closer and buries his nose in it. The roses smell almost as good as the man himself, and while he can’t help but frown at the ostentation, his heart is fluttering in his chest like a caged bird. No-one’s ever made such a dramatic overture to him before. Is he wrong about Blaine Anderson?

Does it matter?

Even if the man is every bit the starched, superior, arrogant person he seems, he’s obviously serious in his pursuit of Kurt. Would one date be such a terrible idea? Or is he trying to buy Kurt’s affection? Is Kurt a class-A jerk if he wants to have dinner with Blaine Anderson just because he’d probably get an excellent meal out of it? 

He’s indulging this internal monologue, still nose-deep in the large vase, when Elliott swans into the gallery from the back. 

“Jesus,” he cracks when he sees the roses. “Who’d you blow last night?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Kurt parries. “Good weekend?”

“Not as good as yours, apparently,” Elliott replies with his most dazzling grin.

“They’re from Blaine,” Kurt tells him. It takes a moment for Elliott’s face to shift from blank confusion to shock.

“Blaine?” he squeaks. “ Anderson?”

“The very same.” Kurt adjusts the vase on the desk and turns back to the computer.

“Jesus,” Elliott says again. “Did you …”

“No,” says Kurt. “But apparently he wants me to. Badly.”

Elliott barks a surprised laugh. “Blaine Anderson,” he murmurs, “as in B.D. Anderson. As in the guy who’s bought two of my paintings. Of you.”

That brings Kurt up short. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he declares, glancing at the roses again.

“Time to start,” Elliott smiles. “I’ll be out back.” He stops to smell Kurt’s roses before disappearing back to the studio.

****

The afternoon gets absurdly busy for a Monday in an art gallery, and Kurt doesn’t have much time to think about anything. He directs several patrons to works he thinks will interest them and provides artists’ bios to a number of browsers. He sells one of Serena’s works to an enthusiastic couple who have apparently been closely following her career. He sticks a red dot onto the title card to indicate that the piece has been sold and opens up the ArtLogic software to record the sale.

That’s when he sees that two of his own pieces sold over the weekend. How did he not notice that? Curious, he opens the popups for the two pieces marked sold. The ‘buyer’ field reads simply, online purch. anon. collector. He’ll probably never know.

Kurt’s still on the computer when the gallery door opens again. He finishes entering his sales data and is about to look up when he hears a familiar voice.

“Ah. You received them, then.”

Blaine Anderson is standing at the gallery desk looking at Kurt’s bouquet appraisingly. His friend from Rachel’s party stands a half step behind him. Judging from their suits (Brooks Brothers and, if Kurt’s not mistaken, Ralph Lauren) they’ve come by the gallery directly from work. Blaine, as usual, looks like someone custom designed the suit for his body, and he smells mouthwatering.

“I did, yes,” Kurt replies. “They’re exquisite, thank you. It’s a good thing you and your friend stopped by. I wouldn’t have known how to reach you.” Kurt feels his face go pink.

“Oh, I’m sorry! Did you not meet Wes the other night? Kurt Hummel, this is Wesley Jiang. Wes, this is Kurt. His work’s over there.” 

Blaine gestures vaguely toward the wall where Kurt’s work hangs, and Wes wanders away in that direction after shaking Kurt’s hand with a disarming smile. Blaine and Kurt are left to contemplate each other across the gallery desk. 

“So,” Blaine says pleasantly. “Have dinner with me.”

It’s still not a question and Kurt’s annoyance must show on his face because Blaine quickly adds, “Please?”

“Blaine,” Kurt says slowly, “The roses are beautiful, really. No-one’s ever done something like that for me before. But I’m not sure –”

“Kurt.” Blaine interrupts, “One meal. I’d just … really like to get to know you better.” There’s something glinting in his eyes that belies his calm. It’s intriguing. That, more than anything, is what changes Kurt’s mind.

“Fine,” he sighs. “One date.”

He’s not sure he’s ever in his life seen a smile as beautiful as Blaine’s.

Chapter 9

[little-escapist]

au + trope + prompt game

13. soulmates!au + 9. strangers to lovers + 2. "fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck."

Thanks for prompting! The fic is under the cut, no warnings, just fluff ;)

Blaine never thought he’d meet his soulmate like this. And boy, had he dreamed up different scenarios as a kid, often late into the night, trying to conjure up what his soulmate might look like. Of course, it’s not quite as easy as that, as everyone knows. The time you meet your soulmate is fated and you can’t find out how it’s going to happen or who it’s going to be until it’s happening. 

He’s early to the subway stop. He wanted to give Sam some privacy for a phone call with Mercedes and so he left for work way earlier than usual, almost early enough to catch the previous train. Almost being the key word.  

A well-dressed, slim man is swearing up a storm, his pale cheeks glowing red and his breath coming hard when Blaine reaches the platform.  

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. Fuck.” The man looks close to tears as he stares after the back of the train.  

“Hey,” Blaine says and approaches cautiously. “Is, um. Clearly something is wrong, but is there something I can do to help?”  

The stranger groans. “If you can turn back time, maybe. Otherwise, no.”  

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, feeling bad for the other’s misfortune. “If I could turn back time, I’d do it for you, but as it is, I’m just human. I can listen and keep you company, though, if that helps any?”  

The man looks him in the eye and it’s like time stops. So maybe Blaine can manipulate time after all? They stare at each other for an eternity, Blaine drowns in the off-blue depths of this man’s eyes and never wants to leave.  

Finally, one of them blinks, and the moment is gone, reality rushing back in.  

“My name is Blaine,” Blaine says and offers his hand. He’s pretty sure already, but the touch will confirm it. His heart is racing in his chest, and he hopes that his hand won’t be too sweaty when this stranger takes it.  

“Kurt,” the man says as their palms touch, and a strange, burning itch begins in Blaine’s hand.  

They both feel it, because they exchange another glance, half excited, half terrified. Blaine really, really wants to see what his mark is like, but he doesn’t want to let go of Kurt’s hand. Kurt gives him a wobbly smile.  

“I guess being late for my job interview is worth it, because I met you at last,” he says, voice oddly wistful.  

Blaine huffs out a laugh and tucks in his chin. “So, you’ve been waiting for me?” The thought makes him feel warm all over. He has been waited for, he has been wanted even when he felt small and insignificant and useless. 

“Since forever! The thought of meeting you was the only thing that got me through, sometimes.”  

“Me, too. I’ve been looking for you forever.” They’re still holding hands, and both of them are growing sweaty on top of the burning tingle of their marks forming.  

“Do you want to see?” Kurt asks, bouncing in place a little.  

Blaine nods, and they let go to take a look at their palms.  

The soul mark is beautiful. Not that Blaine suspected anything else, but still, seeing it takes his breath away. It’s like lace, looping lines forming a shape of a sun. It’s pale gold in color and fills his whole palm. It’s better than anything he imagined in his wildest dreams, and Kurt... Kurt is more beautiful than any imaginary man Blaine’s been conjuring up in his mind to get through his loneliness.  

“Let’s get a cab. If we split the fare, it won’t be that expensive, and maybe you’ll make it to your job interview,” Blaine suggests.  

Kurt nods. “Yes. And then we’re getting lunch and then dinner because I want to learn all about you.”  

They head back above ground hand in hand.  

[justgleekout]

The Purrfect Crime

Summary: Kurt and Blaine were, as you say, “partners in crime”, but like, in the opposite sense… They were a long standing duo at the CIA. Headquarters knew they worked best when they worked together, so they just always did.

On their most recent mission however, their professional partnership is being tested as they go undercover as a married couple.

Rating: T

Words: 3,625

Additional tags: Fake Dating, spies!klaine, Friends to Lovers, crack elements, I really tried to be funny, smitten!blaine, Pining, oblivious!kurt?, Or Is he?, Alternate Universe

Notes: This work is a secret santa gift to @spaceorphan18! Merry Christmas!

First of all, I know this is a little late and I'm so sorry! I was struggling (to say the least) to get this done on time. As you can see, this is chapter one, because I just couldn't finish the whole thing and I didn't want you to wait any longer. I was so busy with work it's litereally not funny. I was pulling days from 7am til 9pm at some point. Then, when I started writing my first idea, I came to the realisation that I was including a very significant trope that was the oposit of what you had written on your wish list, so I had to start over... my own stupid mistake. Then, to make matters even worse, I spilled soda all over my laptop and it broke down completely. So I had to continue writing on my phone and ipad with a broken keyboard (I do NOT reccomend). I know, excuses excuses. I'm just bummed I didn't get it done on time. Also I now have to buy a new computer...

All that aside! I hope you like what I've got so far! I got really excited when I saw you wanted spies!klaine! A trope I absolutely love! Just note that I have never really written crack before, but I tried my best to make it fun add many silly elements! And I promise there are a lot more to come in the next part!!

Chapter: 1/?

Read on Ao3

They walked up to the gates of what could only be described as a palace (if America had those). The long and broad driveway behind the gates lead to a building so large and fancy looking, Blaine instinctively straightened his bowtie and readjusted his cufflinks. He knew he looked the part. Headquarters never sent out their agents in anything less than appropriate attire, but he couldn’t help it. He then glanced over at Kurt, who looked like he was a regular at this place, clad in a striking powder blue suit that perfectly brought out the colour of his eyes- no, Blaine, you are on a mission and he is your friend. He had to remind himself more and more frequently of the fact that they were partners in the professional sense only. No matter how gorgeous Kurt looked and how kind he was and how many flirty remarks he made at Blaine. 

“Did you get any information on what we are actually attending?” Kurt asked.

“No, chief Sylvester only gave me the location and this invitation.” Blaine held up a piece of royal blue parchment with a broken red and gold wax seal. The text on it was written in golden ink and read: 

“ Dear guest, 

Recently I received some incredible news concerning someone close to me that has enriched my life. I would like to share this news with you. Therefore, I hereby invite you to attend a celebratory party to join me in my glee on the evening of the 22nd of may at my residence. I would love to share with you a grand revelation that not even I know the outcome of. All that I will say is that it will be an evening full of surprises. 

Sincerely,

Hunter Clarington”

“What do you think it means?” Kurt asked as he took the paper from Blaine to inspect it further.

“I don’t know. But he is clearly up to something. Chief Sylvester said they got a hold of this invite right after they found suspicious signals and radiation coming from the address. They tracked all the vehicles going in and out of the vicinity. All transporting materials to build some sort of weapon… a powerful one.”

Kurt worried his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded, mulling over the information.

Blaine couldn't help but stare at Kurt's mouth as he licked his lips in thought. Blaine swallowed thickly and his breath hitched for a moment.

Kurt eyed him a little suspiciously. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

“Are you?” Great save, Blaine. Clever. 

Kurt shrugged. “A little, I guess.” 

Blaine didn’t actually expect that answer. “What? Why? You’re never nervous .” 

“Well I just don’t really fit in at these kinds of events… ”

Blaine frowned at Kurt. “What makes you say that?”

“Everyone here is rich, Blaine. I don’t know any of these etiquettes and inside jokes. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb…”

“Kurt, you are a spy for the CIA You are literally trained to fit in anywhere. I’ve seen you act. You’re a natural! And your suit looks incredibly expensive.” Better than mine anyways…

Kurt smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. I tailored it myself, actually.”

“A secret agent with secret talents. Seriously, Kurt, what can’t you do?”

“It’s not “Kurt” tonight, Remember?” 

“Right. Yes. Sorry, Mr. Ralph Murray, what can’t you do?” Blaine said to Kurt with a smile.

“Some secrets I don't dare share, not even with you, Mr. George Murray, darling. ” Kurt winked at Blaine.

And there it was; the reason Blaine was nervous in the first place. Tonight Kurt and he were Ralph and George Murray, husbands of five years, millionaires, and most importantly, on the guest list. It wouldn’t be a hard part to play; Kurt’s husband. Blaine had played that part often enough in his head. But Kurt didn’t know that, and Blaine would rather eat his bowtie than have Kurt finding out and Blaine making a fool out of himself. He just couldn't help but blush at the pet name Kurt gave him. 

Then, a sharp noise pierced his ear. Blaine flinched. This damn earpiece! And then a voice, “Hey guys, I’m glad to hear you are getting into character, but you better get in there. We have no clue where the signal is coming from within that building. And we need to find it fast. 

Right. Blaine thought. The stakes were high tonight. The nation was in danger and it was their job to secure its safety. “We best get in, then.”

“Oh before you do, I have hidden some gadgets for you in that bush over there on the left side of the gate.”

“Hold up. You have hidden our top secret, highly dangerous gadgets… in a bush?” Kurt said exasperatedly into his earpiece. 

“I figured they would be easily accessible…”

“Yeah. To literally everyone , Sam,” Kurt hissed.

“Oh… yeah…”

“Look, Sam, just tell us what you got us,” Blaine said as he crouched next to the bush, pushing the branches aside to reveal a suitcase. He opened it and Sam continued, “Alright. There is of course your trusted grenade pen, anaesthetic darts-watch and bulletproof handkerchief, but I have also added a few of my newest inventions.”

To this, Kurt shot Blaine an apprehensive look. They were a little too familiar with Sam's “ inventions” to say they were always a raging success. They looked into the suitcase and saw, beside their usual gadgets, something that looked like a small beauty case, an umbrella and a pair of sunglasses. “What the…” Kurt whispered under his breath.

Blaine frowned. “Sam, the event is inside… how are we supposed to casually pull out an umbrella or sunglasses?” 

“You're worried about the sunglasses? How do you reckon we are gonna be able to pull off using a, what is this, a lipstick ?” Kurt said as he held up a small golden tube. 

“I- hadn’t really thought about that,” Sam confessed.

Kurt looked like a vein was about to pop in his forehead as he pinched the skin between his eyebrows and pursed his lips.

“What do they do, Sam?” Blaine offered.

“Right, so, the umbrella is not only completely waterproof, it is also fire resistant and creates a perfect shield once unfolded. The sunglasses have infrared night vision and the lipstick is my personal favourite. It releases a toxic fume if you press that button on the back there, but that won't affect you when you are wearing the lipstick as it neutralises the toxins as they come close to it, so when you inhale, you're totally safe,” Sam said proudly.

Blaine had to admit the inventions sounded pretty incredible had they been more practical. “Alright,” he sighed. “Thank you, Sam.”

Kurt side eyed him and Blaine offered a shrug in return. 

“Well, we’d better get going, now. We’ll tune back in when we need you, Sam,” Kurt said and tapped on his earpiece once to hang up. Blaine followed. “Honestly, I can’t with him sometimes. I know you guys are friends, but he sure gets on my nerves.”

Maybe Sam didn't always have the best ideas, but he really wasn't bad at his job. Blaine thought. “He tries his best, though. And he is actually really great once you get to know him,” 

Kurt shook his head. “You’re too kind for your own good,” he said, but there wasn't any actual judgement in his voice. 

Blaine smiled and the blush he was sporting a minute ago returned faintly to his cheeks.

They walked through the gate towards a grand wooden front door in front of which a big woman was standing behind a podium with her arms crossed. "Names?" she said as she was eyeing them up and down suspiciously.

Blaine put on his most charming smile. “George and Ralph Murray,” he responded.

She looked at the register in front of her and her expression changed. “Ah! Splendid!" Welcome to the Clarington residence. All guests are expected in the ballroom for the welcome speech at 8:00 pm sharp. In the meantime there will be beverages and appetisers served in the grand foyer. Please enjoy your evening Mr. and Mr. Murray.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said and nodded to the woman. They walked past her as the doors opened. 

“Ballroom? Really?” Blaine whispered at Kurt as they made their way up the steps leading to the front door. “What is this place? Versaille?”

Kurt sniggered and gave Blaine a pointed look. “Play the part now, Blaine,” he said as they stepped over the threshold. 

They entered an incredible marble room with two grand staircases with golden railings on each side. Large pillars reached to the high ceiling on which, in the middle, hung an enormous crystal chandelier. Blaine’s mouth fell open and he heard Kurt release a low whistle. They quickly pulled themselves together as they were approached by a young handsome waiter. “Welcome, gentlemen. Can I offer you a drink? A glass of champagne perhaps? Cocktail?”

“I’ll have an old fashioned, thank you.” Kurt said with a confident, charming smile. See? Blaine knew Kurt had nothing to worry about. He was a natural. Blaine might have come from money, but Kurt just radiated class. 

“For me a negroni, please. Let’s save the champagne for later after the great announcement, don't you think?” Blaine said with a wink.

The young man blushed. “Certainly, sir.” 

“Say, do you happen to know anything about this speech?” Blaine asked him.

The waiter's eyes grew wide for a second. “I- I’m sorry sir, but it’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Blaine gave the waiter an understanding smile. The young man bowed his head gratefully and dashed away to get their drinks.

Blaine leaned into Kurt’s side, “You reckon he didn't know? Or he didn’t want to say?” he asked.

“Not sure… Would you share your secrets with the waiting staff?”

“I don’t know. I never had waiting staff.” 

“Hm.” Kurt gave him a considering look that lingered a bit too long. It made Blaine feel a little hot in the face.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.” Kurt shrugged. “I’m just trying to paint a picture of you.” When Blaine didn't respond immediately he added, “It's a good picture, don't worry.” There was something suggestive in the way Kurt spoke. Blaine looked at him as if to try figuring him out. Kurt was just good at playing his part. Blaine told himself. Though no one was looking at them at the moment so there was no direct reason for it.

“Let's ask around some more, shall we?” Kurt suggested, breaking the tension.

"Yeah. Good plan.”

The young waiter had returned with their drinks and they started moving through the crowd. They asked multiple people if they had any idea what they were doing here, but no one seemed to know or want to tell them anything. 

“This is hopeless. We are wasting valuable time.” Blaine slumped against one of the pillars. 

Kurt opened his mouth to respond but Blaine motioned for him to be quiet when he heard a woman speak; “See, I told you he was weird. Who hosts a party for their cat?” 

They turned to look where the voice came from. A latina woman with long dark hair in a fitted, red, velvet dress was talking to another woman. This one with blond hair styled in a stylishly messy updo and a mint green dress. 

“I would,” the blonde woman said solemnly. “And I have in the past.” 

“Yeah, but that’s different. You’re cute about it.” The dark haired woman flirted and the blonde one gave her a quick kiss. 

“Excuse me,” Blaine piped in.

The dark haired woman gave him a once over, clearly judging him.

“George Murray, pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand and the woman took it with only slight reluctance. “This is my husband, Ralph Murray.” He gestured to Kurt who then also shook the woman’s hand. Blaine noticed that the look she gave him was a lot less disapproving. Though Blaine couldn't blame her when Kurt was wearing that suit. 

“Santana Lopez,” the dark haired woman introduced herself. “This is Brittany Pierce.”

The men shook Brittany's hand as well. “I’m sorry, we just couldn’t help but overhear… Do you happen to know what this event is for?”

“I’ve only heard rumours,” Santana said.

“I see. Where did you get these rumours from?” Blaine asked.

Santana crossed her arms. “Well aren’t you the little detective. What's it to you, anyways? 

“Just nosy.” Kurt’s smile turned a little more devious than polite, matching her energy.

“They say it’s his cat’s birthday, but that doesn’t explain the great announcement. Maybe his cat got nominated for an award.” Brittany said

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other in disbelief, and back at the women. “You can’t be serious,” Kurt said.

Santana crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Deadly.” 

“He can't be that passionate about a cat?”

“Wanna bet?” Santana challenged. “How do you think we know him?”

The men shrugged.

“We know him from cat shows.” Santana rolled her eyes. “Brittany’s cat, Lord Tubbington, often runs against his cat, Mr. Puss. So believe me when I say people are passionate about their cats. Anyways if you really wanna know, we heard it from Sebastian Smythe.”

“Who is that?” 

“He is one of Hunter's closest friends .” She grinned as if to imply something.

“Do you think Hunter told him about his plans for the night?” Blaine asked, trying to hide the eagerness in his voice.

“I’m sure he did. I overheard them talking about half an hour ago. Something about ‘getting it ready in the basement.’ ” She shrugged.

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a meaningful look. “Do you know how we can get in there?” Kurt asked.

“I'm sure Sebastian has a keycard to the elevator. But hold up, why do you want to know so bad?”

“Never mind that. What does he look like; Sebastian?” Kurt asked.

Santana smirked. “Oh you can’t miss him.” 

Brittany then took Santana's hand and whispered something in her ear. They giggled. “Look we’d love to stay and chat, but we, er, we gotta go.” Santana said before she was pulled away by Brittany. Santana managed to add a “good luck” as they disappeared into the crowd. 

“What do we do now?” Blaine sighed. “We have no clue where to find this Sebastian character,”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Kurt said and pointed over Blaine’s shoulder. 

Blaine turned to look, and there, in the middle of a group of people, stood a handsome man who was clearly the centre of attention. The people around him were laughing at his jokes and basically fawning over him. “You reckon that’s him?” Blaine asked.

“ Oh my god, Sebastian! You didn’t!” one of the guys closest to him laughed and flirtily touched the man’s arm. 

Sebastian petted the guy’s hand and smirked. “You should hear what I did with his father,” he said and winked at the woman next to him. The people around him all laughed.

Blaine snorted. “Well that answers that,” he said.

“He looks incredibly obnoxious,” Kurt said and narrowed his eyes. “He is flirting with literally everyone in his little group.” He grimaced.

“Maybe we can use that to our advantage?” Blaine thought out loud. However he didn’t really feel like watching Kurt chat up another man. He would just have to do it himself. “I will go and talk to him!” 

“Wait, maybe-” but before Kurt could protest, Blaine had stepped into the circle of people. Sebastian's eyes were immediately on him. 

“Well hello handsome,” Sebastian said and extended his hand towards Blaine. “I don’t think we’ve met. You look like someone I wouldn’t easily forget.” He grinned.

Despite his better judgement, Blaine blushed. The man was handsome, alright. And definitely charismatic, judging by the effect he had on the people around him. “We haven't. My name is George Murray. Are you Sebastian Smythe?” Blaine asked as he shook the man’s hand. 

“Matter of fact I am. To what do I owe this pleasure?”  

“I was talking to some friends of mine and you sounded… interesting” Blaine smiled a what he hoped was a seductive smile. 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and turned away from Blaine for a second to make a dismissive gesture to his followers. “Could you give us a moment please?” 

The small crowd looked annoyed, some even jealous, but they obeyed, leaving the two men to themselves. Sebastian turned back to Blaine “Interesting, hm?” he grinned. 

Now that they were talking Blaine realised he didn’t actually have a solid plan. He couldn’t straight up ask Sebastian to give him the key. He would never just hand it over. Maybe Blaine could convince Sebastian to take him to the basement? But he needed Kurt with him. So he had to think of something else.

“They said you were close friends with the host,” Blaine said, trying to imply exactly whatever Santana was implying before. “I can see why he would like you,” he flirted. Apparently this was the right move, as Sebastian looked him up and down let his gaze rest on Blaine’s mouth. 

Sebastian leaned in closer. “You’re cute, George Murray. How come I’ve never seen you before?” 

“I- I’m usually very busy with eh- work. Don’t-“ Blaine swallowed. “Don’t often have time for parties.” Out of the corner of his eye Blaine noticed movement. He glanced over Sebastian's shoulder and saw that Kurt was miming something. “Back pocket!” He mouthed. What about his back pocket? Wait. Sebastian’s back pocket! The keycard was in sebastians back pocket!

Sebastian, who luckily didn’t seem to have noticed anything, spoke again, “Ah, so you're Mr. Professional, hm? Do you always obey the rules or are you capable of letting loose every once in a while?”

“Er, yeah sure,” Blaine said semi on auto pilot. How the hell was he supposed to get the key-card from Sebastian’s pocket? “What about you?” he asked. “Are you a rule breaker?”

“You could say that,” Sebastian quipped. 

Blaine laughed. He needed to get very close and personal with this man but whilst he was doing so, he might as well find out some more information.

“I was wondering,” Blaine said and trailed his finger over Sebastian’s chest. “As you’re such a bad boy, would you mind telling me what tonight is all about?” Blaine looked up through his eyelashes. 

Sebastian inhaled through his teeth. “Oh babe, I can’t tell you that. It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 

“I thought you didn't play by the rules.” 

“Why don’t you come upstairs with me where we can have a little more privacy and I can tell you all you want to know.” Sebastian said and slipped an arm around Blaine’s back. 

This was his chance. He could take it now and Sebastian wouldn't notice. He just didn’t know how to get out of the situation once he made his move. Blaine looked over his shoulder in search of Kurt and found him looking at them. Blaine gave him a quick pleading look, hoping Kurt would understand. Here goes nothing. He put his hand on Sebastian's back and slid it down to rest over his butt. “Sounds amazing...” Blaine felt the card in Sebastian's pocket. “...but I forgot to mention…” He slid his fingers into the pocket over the card, trying to pull it off as a caress, and as he retreated his hand he pulled the card out. Got it. “...that I'm married.” 

As if on cue, Kurt stepped in front of them. “Darling! There you are! I was looking for you.” He smiled a bit too sweetly at Blaine. “Who’s our new friend?” he asked and shot a murdering look at Sebastian. 

“Woah, what the hell?” Sebastian took a step back, letting go of Blaine. 

Blaine quickly slipped the key-card into his own pocket and stepped closer to Kurt. “Ralph, honey, this is Sebastian. He is a close friend of Hunter’s. Sebastian, this is my husband, Ralph Murray.”

“Husband? Wow,” Sebastian said. “Was not expecting that.” 

Kurt held out his hand. “Pleasure,” he said through gritted teeth.

Sebastian took Kurt’s hand and shook it once. 

Kurt turned to Blaine again. “Well it’s almost 8 o’clock. We should get going, darling.” 

“Right.” Blaine nodded. “Maybe we can talk later?” he offered innocently to Sebastian as if nothing had happened. “It was very nice meeting you.” 

“Sure was,” Sebastian said and winked at Blaine, clearly recovered from the initial shock. “I am looking forward to seeing you again, George.”

Kurt then pulled Blaine away by his hand through the crowd, leaving Sebastian behind. 

“Thank you for saving me,” Blaine said once they had found a quiet corner.

“You didn't really seem like you needed saving,” Kurt said coldly.  

“What do you mean? If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have been able to get away!” 

“I mean, ” Kurt said. “It didn't seem like you had such a terrible time with him. I know you needed to get the card, but how are we supposed to come across as a happily married couple when you are feeling up all the other guests.” He crossed his arms defensively.

Blaine stared at Kurt for a second. Then it dawned on him. “Wait, Kurt, are you jealous?”  

“No,” Kurt snapped. 

“Oh my god, you are totally jealous.”

Kurt’s cheeks turned red. “Shut up, I'm trying to take this mission seriously. Did you at least get the key?”

Blaine couldn't help but grin as he presented it. “Got it right here.”

“Great. Let's go try it out before he finds out it’s missing. We need to get to the basement before it’s 8 o’clock.” 

[forabeatofadrum]

The Still Untitled Klaine December Challenge Fic (2/21)

Notes: Step aside Klaine Advent 2017 Day 13 'Mist', this is the hardest prompt I've had to use.

Anyway, let's check in with our boy, Kurt.

AO3 | S&C

-

BIKINI

Kurt’s going to miss Ljubljana. Of course, he is. This city has given him so much: love, friendship, energy. It’s his last day and it’s weird to walk around Kongresni trg with Sunil and Tadeja, knowing that he won’t be back here for probably a long time.

They’re about to grab a pizza at Ljubljanski dvor, the place where he first met Blaine. But Blaine isn’t here anymore. Kurt woke up to a message from Blaine, telling him that he’s landed safely, and then another string of messages about his brother. Due to time difference, they haven’t really talked yet. Blaine is in America. Kurt’s following suit. His flight leaves in a couple of hours.

“This will be my last meal in Ljubljana, probably,” Kurt laments. The overpriced stuff at the airport will not count.

“Awww,” Tadeja pouts.

“You could’ve stayed,” Sunil points out, albeit in a more jokey way. Sunil knows that Kurt isn’t staying. He considered it for a while. He needs to do an internship for his next academic year and it might’ve been possible to also do that here in the first semester. This is why Sunil is staying instead of going back to Sri Lanka.

And Kurt adores Ljubljana, but it’s different without Blaine.

Not only that, but he’s cooking something up. He’s already spammed his advisor’s e-mail about it. Kurt’s trying to go to Los Angeles. It’s probably too late to find an internship for September, but the second semester is also an option, so Kurt’s gunning for February.

He hasn’t talked about it with Blaine, because Kurt first wants to have a concrete plan before he brings it up. Kurt’s only told his dad briefly over the phone. His dad wondered if it was smart to uproot his life for a guy, but Kurt argued that it’s temporary and he might move in with Blaine and Quinn for those six months, so it’ll save costs and what not. His dad argued back that money is no problem, since he’s a congressman so he can help. That’s where the conversation ended, but Kurt’s only at the beginning of the planning process.

First, he has to go back to New York.

Kurt, Sunil and Tadeja eat their pizza’s and talk about silly things. No one wants to dwell on the fact that Kurt’s leaving. God, Kurt’s going to miss Sunil so much.

After pizza, they have one last walk through the centre of Ljubljana, but then it’s time to go to Tadeja’s place to get Kurt’s luggage. Since Kurt obviously couldn’t stay in Blaine’s apartment, he spent the last night at Tadeja’s.

“This is it,” he says once everything’s ready. They stand outside of Tadeja’s building. The taxi has been called.

Tadeja hugs him first.

“Nasvidenje,” she says, “Pogrešal te bom.”

“I will miss you too,” Kurt says back, in English, because he wants to spare Tadeja from his terrible Slovene pronunciation. Tadeja knows it and playfully scorns Kurt.

Then it’s time to say goodbye to Sunil and it hurts. It’s different than saying goodbye to Blaine, but it’s still painful.

“Sunil-”

Sunil cuts him off with a hug.

“I know,” he says, “I know. The feeling is a mutual.”

The taxi arrives. Sunil helps Kurt with his luggage and then it’s over. Kurt gets in the car and waves as it drives away.

--

“Hey kiddo.”

God, Kurt didn’t know how much he missed his dad until now. Kurt’s dad and Carole flew to New York to welcome him back and then they’re staying for a couple of days so that they could spend it with Kurt.

Kurt’s pretty sure Carole is weeping with joy.

The three of them travel to Kurt’s apartment. He shares it with two women named Rachel and Santana. They’re from the same fancy all-girls school and they tolerated each other enough to move in together. They originally shared the apartment with another classmate, but she moved out to go back home to Westerville, so Rachel and Santana needed a new roommate.

That’s how Kurt ended up in this place. They’ve been living together for three years and it’s fine. He likes Rachel and Santana, although they drive him mad at times, especially Rachel. He subleased his room to another New Yorker, but that person has left so that Kurt can return.

Rachel and Santana aren’t there to welcome him home, since Rachel said something about “meeting someone from the industry” and Santana wanted to “buy a bikini for her girlfriend”, but that is fine. That gives him, his dad and Carole more space to unpack in peace.

“Good to be back?” his dad asks when Kurt steps into his bedroom.

“Different,” Kurt answers.

New York is so different from Ljubljana. Kurt walks towards his window and looks outside. Ljubljana might’ve been the capital of a country, but it has nothing on New York. New York is busier, faster, louder… it’s just more in every sense. It cannot be compared to Ljubljana. Kurt already misses the charm of Ljubljana.

He wonders how Blaine is doing in LA. LA is already a completely different city from New York. Kurt hopes he’ll like it there.

“Dad, can I have a moment to call Blaine?” he asks. There’s only a 3 hour time difference between them now, which is way better than the 9 hour one.

“Of course,” his dad says kindly, “Tell him hi from us.”

Carole nods. Then they leave and close the door behind them.

Kurt calls Blaine, who immediately picks up. Blaine was expecting him to call.

“Hey there,” Blaine sounds cheerful, “Back in New York?”

“Oh, I am so tired,” Kurt says, “Is your jet lag gone?”

“Almost,” Blaine answers with a laugh.

“Is your brother gone?”

“Yes!” Blaine sounds relieved.

“Is it that bad?” Kurt asks. He’s happy and touched that his dad and Carole flew to New York for him and he’s beyond excited to spend the next couple of days with them.

Blaine seems to pick up on that. God, he knows Kurt so well.

“Well, I am glad to see him. I did miss him, but Quinn, Denise and I wanted to figure out what to do with you know what,” Blaine sighs, “We want to have some stability in life again before we tell other people that we broke up. Quinn’s mother apparently sent me a welcome home gift for, I quote, her favourite son-in-law, which was sweet but… weird.”

Kurt can imagine. When he and Adam broke up, it was also an adjustment for Kurt’s friends and family, but he and Adam were nowhere as serious as Blaine and Quinn. That, and Kurt didn’t realise he had a completely different sexuality.

What would his dad say if he came home with a woman? The thought makes him want to giggle.

“Anyway, enough of my worries,” Blaine says, “How are you?”

They talk for an hour until Kurt’s dad interrupts to tell Kurt that Rachel has gone home and wants to greet him. Kurt and Blaine tell each other they love each other and hang up. Kurt sighs. Two more weeks and then Blaine will be in New York. He can’t wait.

-

End notes: God, I actually miss Ljubljana. One of the reasons I went back and forth on this sequel plan is because I knew the sequel wasn't going to be in Ljubljana, but I also love these versions of the boys (and Quinn) so much.

I still am looking for a title and it'll probably be in Slovene for consistency, even though the story isn't in Slovenia. But you know, neither was Je tik pred vami.

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Tis the Damn Season

Klaine Advent 2023

Day 1: Plead

Ao3

Blaine was in serious trouble. His Intro to Tap class ran long; he really should’ve dropped that class at the beginning of the semester because it always runs long. Truly he should’ve known better than to schedule his very important meeting with his advisor for ten minutes after tap. Though had his professor not kept them over class time Blaine would’ve made it to the other side of campus by now.

When he first started school at NYADA, Blaine walked slowly. Taking in the campus greens, enjoying the shade of the trees during those warm summer afternoons. It was rare to find gorgeous greenery in New York City aside from Central Park. This campus felt a little like home. Not that Blaine missed Ohio too much but he did miss his friends.

Orientation week was supposed to help freshmen make friends but his assigned group didn’t seem to understand that. Then Blaine was hopeful he’d make some friends during his first week of classes.

Intro to Tap moved too quickly for friends. From the moment you stepped into class, you were on the move. Blaine spent that hour and then some out of breath.

Philosophy just made his brain hurt. The fact that he even had to take a math class sent chills down his spine but Blaine kept trying to make friends with his math tutor but nothing yet. His last hope had been Improvisation 101.

Improv was in his favor. He made his first friend in New York. They were assigned partners on their first project together.

“I’m Tina Cohen-Chang,” she said, “and I don’t intend on failing my first assignment here so you better be willing to pull your weight.”

“Blaine Anderson and I don’t plan to fail either.”

She had smiled then, “good.”

They had gotten the highest grade in class and from then on always saved the other a seat.

Tina was texting him now asking how Tap had gone. It was almost finals week—man had this semester flown by—and Blaine was trying his best to make dean’s list. He needed an A in Intro to Tap.

He was pleading with the universe for just one thing to go right— like his advisor not being too mad at him for being ten minutes late and not to comment on the coffee stain on his pants—which, of course, is exactly when he crashed into someone rushing in the opposite direction.

Blaine was texting Tina back while rushing to make this meeting.

Tina: did you kick ass in Tap or what?

Blaine: more like tap kicked my ass

Tina: boo, Blainey. Step up your game

Blaine: I trie

He never got to finish his text to Tina. His phone tumbled out of his hands, papers went flying, and Blaine was flat on his ass. The sidewalk was freezing.

The sun blinded him when he looked up to see if the person he had just trampled was alright. Blaine used a hand as a visor and the other student came into focus.

“Are you okay?” He was asking. “Hey…”

“Yeah, I think so,” Blaine said.

“I’m really sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going…”

“No, no, really it’s my fault. I swear in the new year I’ll stop texting and walking.”

The other student laughed. “It’s a good resolution.”

Blaine stood up and dusted himself off.

“Oh, let me help you.”

He gathered up some papers and handed them over.

“A band?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to start one.”

“I’m Blaine by the way.”

“Kurt.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“This yours?” Kurt asked, holding up his phone.

“Yes,” Blaine chucked.

That’s when he remembered the time. He was sure to be 15 minutes late by now.

“I’d love to stay and chat more but I’m already late to this meeting.”

“No worries, nice running into you.”

Blaine smiled, “yeah it was.”

He started to rush off again but Blaine spun around and yelled, “hey Kurt! Starting a band is a good resolution too.”

That made the other boy smile wide. Blaine vowed to make him smile like that again.

[spaceorphan18]

5 Times Kurt Talks About Sex and 1 Time He Doesn't (Part One)

A/N: So, this was inspired the other day by a Nonny who was asking about how Kurt interacts with others on the topic of sex and this little idea popped in my head.

It's a little mini-series, and I'll post one part a day, then I'll get it up on Ao3 after it's complete.

It's set in a post-canon-ish world when they're all living in New York. The whole thing takes place over the course of a day.

****

Conversation One: Tina

There’s a banging on the door.  Kurt hasn’t even had a sip of his morning coffee yet, and reluctantly regrets even getting up in the morning as he makes his way through the kitchen to the living room.  The pounding intensifies.  Good, god, what is so important this early in the morning? 

He opens the door, and in stumbles Tina.  “Blaine!” she calls, without even a hello.  “Blainey!! Blaine, get out here, I need to talk to you.” She pushes past Kurt, in a frenzy, and goes straight for the bedrooms, as if it’s normal for someone not even invited in to do so.  

“He’s at rehearsal,” Kurt grumbles.  He shuts the door and heads back to the kitchen, not even bothering to stop Tina as she races around the apartment in search of Blaine.  

“It’s Saturday,” Tina cries, as if that’s some sort of argument against Blaine being gone.  The apartment is small enough that it takes less than a minute for Tina to confirm that Kurt is, indeed, alone.  

“People still have to rehearse on Saturdays.”  He pours himself a mug of coffee, taking in the deep, rich smell of it as he waits for Tina to inevitably join him.  

She’s grumpy as she enters the kitchen.  “Well, that would explain why he’s not answering his phone.” 

He stares at her blankly.  “What do you want, Tina?” 

It’s then that she stops in her tracks, as if she’s suddenly aware that Kurt’s really the only one there to talk to.  She’s unusually hesitant before she speaks again.  “You know what - it’s fine.  I’ll just see him later.” 

Kurt raises an eyebrow at her. “What did you need?” 

“Really, it was nothing.” 

“Tina…” 

“I should have waited for his text,” Tina insists.  “Totally not an emergency.  You don’t even need to mention that I was here.” 

“You’ve already crashed my morning,” Kurt says, waving his mug around.  Sure, it’s annoying to be interrupted during your morning routine - but at least whatever Tina’s backing away from is probably better than anything on TV at the moment. “You might as well just tell me.”

“Well…” she’s hesitant again as she slides into one of his kitchen chairs.  “It’s just that you and I, uh, don’t really talk about this stuff.”  

Okay, so now his attention is piqued.  “What stuff?” 

“You know…”  her voice grows soft.  “About sex stuff.”  

She’s not wrong.  Tina will gossip about other people’s sex lives until the cows come home, but she’s rather tight-lipped about her own. 

“Try me.” 

“I should really wait and just talk to Blaine.” 

“Do you really think Blaine won’t tell me eventually anyway?” 

Kurt’s not sure what is more bitter - his coffee or the expression on Tina’s face.  

“Fine, Kurt Hummel.” She takes a deep breath, composing herself. “So, you know how Artie and I are beginning to see each other again?  Well, it’s been going great.  Or at least I thought it had been going great.  Until yesterday… So, I was going down on him.  And, I mean, it’s not my favorite thing.  Do all men have that weird smell down there? Or do I need to get Artie some kind of genitalia perfume for Christmas? And I mean, I can’t do it for very long because my mouth dries out but anyway…ever since I’ve known  him he’s gone on and on about how much he just loves blowjobs.  I swear, I have heard about every single woman who has thought it wise to give him one.  And, god, he especially wouldn’t shut up about Brittany -- who apparently gives the most magical blowjobs.  Sam used to go on and on about Brittany, too, now that I think of it.  Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, god, don’t tell me you agree with Brittany’s mind blowing oral skills.” 

Kurt throws up a little in his mouth.  “Do you really think I’d let that woman near my dick?” 

Tina waves off the comment, continuing on with her rant.  “Anyway… it takes him forever to come and he just seems barely into it.  And I am trying all of my best moves.  I am not bad at blowjobs.  At least, Mike never complained.  And remember that one guy I dated a few years ago? Greg? He said I was the best he’s ever had.  I may have been the only one, but that’s not the point.  The point is I wanted to talk to Blaine so he could give me tips on how to give a better blowjob.” 

“Wait, is this really what you and Blaine talk about when I’m not around?” 

“This is serious, Kurt!” 

Kurt smirks into his coffee as he thinks it over.  “I mean, if you want to talk about someone who gives magical blowjobs…”

Tina lets out a frustrated grunt.  “Look, it’s not even because of this one time, either.  I tried to wake him up this morning with a little surprise and he just kind of shoved me away.  It was hu-mil-i-ating.  My best friend and would-be boyfriend doesn’t like my mouth on him.  Maybe this was just the worst idea I’ve ever had and we should have never gotten back together.   I just need to accept the fact that I’m going to die alone.” 

Wow.  That escalated quickly.  It’s Tina, though, he’s not really surprised. 

“Okay, Tina.” Kurt sets his coffee mug down and folds his arms across his chest.  “Let me get this straight.  Did you at any point ask Artie about his weird reactions?” 

She sits there silently for a moment.  “Well, no…” 

“So, to recap your morning - you had a bad sexual experience.  And instead of talking to your boyfriend about it, you came to the conclusion that you’re terrible at sex, that you’re going to die alone, and then rushed over here to ask my husband how to properly suck a guy off?” 

“You know, this is why I don’t come to you about these things,” Tina scoffs.  “You don’t have to be judgy about it.” 

Kurt refrains from rolling his eyes at her.  “I’m not-- whatever… Tina, Artie’s an idiot.  You know you have to hit Artie over the head with a brick in order to get his attention.  I think it’s a different set of oral skills that may be more beneficial to your relationship.” Kurt chuckles at his own joke.  “If you want, though, you could just say you’ll be refraining from using your mouth on any part of him until he can use his mouth to give you an orgasm. I mean, if you’re not having fun - why would he be?  And, god, do not buy him some weird genitalia perfume - I’d be happy to recommend a decent manscaping kit instead.  Also, for the record, dying alone isn’t the worst thing in the world - at least you’d have peace and quiet. And god knows I wish I had more of that in my life.  But I mean, please feel free to still talk to Blaine.  He does know how to do this thing with his tongue that gets me there faster than when we were teenagers.  Absolutely magical.”   

For the first time since he’s known her, Tina sits in a complete silence, utterly at a loss at how to respond. 

Kurt picks up his mug and grins as he sips.