dude, being addicted to fanfiction is so weird. you stay in front of your computer for hours a day reading different versions of those same characters falling in love and fucking again, again, again and again. and yet, we’re looking for more, creating more, making fanarts because, apparently, nothing in the world is more fulfilling than fictional love, the love we cannot have. that’s either inspiring or unsettling. or both.
"Hey, are you playing too?" Blaine asks, nudging Kurt’s hip, and Kurt finds himself nodding even though he finds the idea of the game silly - something popular and risqué that kids love to play because of the smallest chance of finding their soulmates.
But it’s so hard to say no to Blaine. He’s only been at McKinley for three months but he’s already one of Kurt’s closest friends, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that Kurt’s completely weak when it comes to Blaine’s big, earnest eyes and his bright smile, the way his face lights up when he sees Kurt.
They’re teased, sometimes, for how close they are, but Kurt’s not about to let some neanderthal bullies ruin how important Blaine’s friendship is to him.
And besides, Kurt’s never thought about boys that way. Not really. Not until Blaine, anyway, but he reassures himself that it’s totally normal teenage curiosity to imagine how soft Blaine’s lips would feel on his own.
Huge, HUGE thanks to nineofhearts4 for being my beta and my friend. <3
“Wine? Check. Popcorn? Check. A slice of the most amazing cheesecake from the most amazing bakery in the neighbourhood? Check. And of course, a TiVo full of Pr- oh my god!”
A thud on his balcony startled Kurt enough that he threw his tray of food to the floor. After briefly lamenting the cheesecake, he remembered why he was freaked out in the first place and grabbed his bottle of wine for protection as he went to inspect the noise.
He felt a little ridiculous creeping over to the balcony and holding the wine bottle like it was a bat, but his dedication to TV crime dramas had taught him a thing or two about the dangers of living alone in New York City. It could be a murderer, or a drug lord, or the leader of the Russian mafia, or…“A… shoe?” Kurt gingerly stepped out onto the balcony and picked it up. It was a really nice shoe. No blood or scuffs or signs of struggle.
During his inspection, something hit him on the shoulder and clattered to the ground. “What the hell?” Kurt realized it was the other shoe and gasped. “I’ve had this dream before.”
“Oh thank god. Hello? Is there somebody down there?”
I apologize for everything that this is. NC-17 rating. Also, spoilers.
This entire thing is ridiculous. Kurt’s known it all week, despite the guys in class commenting him and snickering at Blaine, and despite their dumb argument over cronuts (of all things) and then their unexpected duet an hour ago. It was a hot duet, too. Kurt’s been aching since their fencing duel ended. And Blaine, looking embarrassed and flustered, darted out and left.
“Blaine? Blaine, you open this door!”
Kurt pounds on the apartment door with his fist. They need to talk because this is insane. And he’s horny. But mostly the first.
My brother said something so beautiful to me over Christmas. He’s a musician too, and we grew up on the same music, and we love the same music. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “Just promise me your record won’t smell like compromise.” And that hit me so…
The best part about cutting it down to a smaller cast?
EVERYONE was involved in the A, B, or C plot. Everyone had something to do. No one was sitting in the back of the choir room, nodding along, with the knowledge that we won’t hear from them for three episodes until we cycle around to their bit and we just have to assume that they go about their daily lives.
We got to hang out a bit with everyone. And I loved it.