For the last five years, this show has built itself a special place in my heart. Most of my “real world” friends dropped it in season 2 or 3. The hubby has tolerated it and taken a barely passing interest. No one I work with even thinks it is still on the air. Therefore, Glee has kind of been my “special thing” that I didn’t have to share even if I did sometimes have to defend.
But I have been there every week, sitting on my couch and thinking, “bring it, Glee.”
It has amused me. It has frustrated me. It has delighted me. It has angered me. It made me swoon and made me roll my eyes, often within moments of each other.
In short, it has entertained me.
And that is all I ask of the final season.
Tell me stories. Sing me songs. Give me one hour a week where I don’t have to live in my world but can live in theirs.
Amuse me. Frustrate me. Delight me. Anger me. Make me swoon and make me roll my eyes.
Just entertain me.
For 13 more hours, please, just entertain me.
Okay—all Zozobra doom and gloom messages are printed and ready to go, including those from anons and those sent to my ajdewall gmail.
May I just say—wow, all of you shared some powerful stuff. I’m thrilled to be able to help you say goodbye to all of it on Friday.
I’m still upset about Borders closing
Summary: Kurt is pretty much untouchable at school. With a cigarette and a pink streak in his hair, he hangs out under the bleachers with the skanks, and nobody gets to him. Until he finds out the nerdy do-gooder who helps him in math, Blaine Anderson, isn’t a virgin. So what if Blaine’s sort of cute? He is not cool. How is not-a-virgin even possible? Especially, when Kurt hasn’t even had his first kiss.
Beneath Our Armour
Kurt admits he lost his cool earlier in the day. At least it was with Quinn. And not with nerdy, apparently sex god, Blaine Anderson.
Gosh, this was so freaking good. I loved the virgin/non-virgin dynamic.
SEND ME YOUR DOOM AND GLOOM!
Want to see all the negativity you’ve held onto—regrets, worries, fears, sadness, anger—burn in a raging fire?
On Friday August 29th I’ll be in Santa Fe for the annual burning of Zozobra, “Old Man Gloom.” (Click here to see my earlier post about Zozobra.)
The box in the photo above is Santa Fe Reporter’s Gloom Box where Santa Feans drop off slips of paper on which they’ve written their”doom and gloom.” The papers are then stuffed inside Zozobra before he burns. Watching all of your “bad stuff” go up in flames is a cathartic experience.
Most of you can’t attend, so I’m going to give you a chance to get in on the ritual. Send your worries, regrets, fears, sorrow, whatever ghosts and hangups you want to get rid of and I’ll print them out and put them in the Gloom Box.
You can send your gloom to me (anonymously or otherwise) here on Tumblr, or send me an email at email@example.com. Everything will be kept confidential. Deadline: Wednesday, August 27th.
Time for a fresh start, lovelies.
Last day to send me your doom and gloom, lovelies.
jillypickle prompted: How about single dad Kurt meets single dad Blaine because their teenagers start dating?
“Okay tell me again. You’re going on what with who now?”
Audrey sighs like the weight of the world is draped across her narrow shoulders and pushes her broccoli around on her plate. “On a date. With a boy. I told you like, a million times Dad, god.”
“Okay, first let’s watch the tone,” Kurt says and she huffs, then stabs a broccoli with the tines of her fork. “Second, you are thirteen. Even if you were allowed to date, which you aren’t by the way because you are thirteen, where would you go? How would you get there? Bicycle? Razor Scooter to a romantic picnic under the monkey bars perhaps?”
She scowls and Kurt can’t help the teasing smile on his face. It’s too easy and she’s so cute when she’s pissed off at him. Well, sometimes. The door slamming isn’t his favorite.
“It’s not funny.” She takes a bite of food then looks up, big sad eyes and defeated posture and that does not bode well for his resolve. “He’s really nice and super polite and he said his dad would come and he even asked if I would accompany him to the movies like, who says that? He’s really cute Dad, all the girls in class think so. And Toby.”
“Well if Toby thinks so,” Kurt jokes again, but Audrey still looks put out so Kurt relents. “Okay. Get me his dad’s number and as long as he’s onboard and will be staying with you the entire time I’ll consider it.”
So good. I love flirty single daddies!Klaine. Sequel? Pretty please?
Kurt is wearing a pair of boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination and Blaine has only one thing on his mind.
It starts with a pair of dove gray boxer briefs.
Well, technically, it starts with laundry day.
Kurt had gotten melted chocolate from the chocolate chip cookies they’d baked on his sweatpants and Blaine had offered to put them in the washing machine for him. Somewhere in between being helpful and relocating from the kitchen to Kurt’s bedroom for movie time, his attentions had shifted from “innocent Saturday afternoon with my boyfriend” to Kurt wearing nothing but a pair of last year’s boxer briefs and a tank top, on display standing on tip toe in his walk-in closet.
Blaine, sitting at the end of Kurt’s bed, watches at first through the reflection of the mirror on the closet door behind Kurt and then simply watches Kurt directly, straining to reach something at the back of the top shelf. The boxer briefs cut in at his tiny waist and hug the firm, high shape of his ass like a glove, and when he comes down off of his toes the material is sucked up in between his cheeks, outlining each side in full detail. The muscles in his thighs clench as he shifts around, trying to dislodge the material without indelicately picking at his butt.
Blaine’s cheeks go from warm to inferno in about five seconds.
Holy hotness! I love any fic in which Blaine obsesses over Kurt’s ass. The up against the headboard action is just… yum.