How Hard You’re Trying

wowbright:

Title: How Hard You’re Trying

Main Character: Kurt Hummel (as part of Kurt/Blaine)

Spoilers: 3.20 and 3.21 (“Props” and “Nationals”)

Rating: PG-13 for implied sexytimes

Length: ~5,000 words

Summary: Every year, the seniors at McKinley High School vote for Teacher of the Year. Rachel and Finn are campaigning for Mr. Schuester, but Kurt wants to make up his own mind.

Author’s Notes: Thanks to gingerandfair for encouraging me and reading through parts of this, not-cho-chang for reading through this and holding me to high standards even though I was rushed, and to insatiablyyours and sin_fuego for help with Señor Martinez’s Spanish. Any errors are mine.

In just before the deadline: an episode reaction to “Props” and “Nationals.” This is very different from anything I’ve written before. Needless to say, the opinions of characters in this story are not necessarily my own, and most of the characters are definitely not my own – they belong to Glee and various corporate powers that be.

Title from Patty Griffin’s “Nobody’s Crying,” which is not at all related to the themes of this story, and yet kind of is.

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Child-Rearing: A Tough But Rewarding Business

rockinhamburger:

Post-ep reaction fic.

Title: Child-Rearing: A Tough But Rewarding Business
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Burt Hummel just wants to help his kid. Isn’t that what any parent wants?
A/N: The first thing I’ve written for Glee in months. Under a Read More ‘cause it’s almost 2,000 words.

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Fic: Between The Lines and Liver Spots

borogroves:

Title: Between The Lines and Liver Spots
Author: borogroves (me!)
Rating: G
Warnings: Possible spoilers (references to dialogue from 3.22)
Summary: Nursing-home!Klaine.  Kurt tells stories and Blaine reminisces, in his way.

***

“Did you know that he serenaded somebody else?  In one of those old GAP stores, no less.”

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fleurdelisee:

Reading the letter of refusal was not the hardest part. The hardest part was telling Blaine and his dad.

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alannispippins:

Kurt never slept well when travelling. He was always too excited for the destination. When he did drift off, he had nightmares.

When Blaine shook him awake, Kurt breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re here,” he said, then looked around at the train. “We’re here.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Blaine said with a little laugh. “Where else would I be?”

“I had this nightmare,” Kurt explained. “You were a junior, I was applying to some school called NYADA, then I didn’t get in, but Rachel got in and she and Finn were going to get married but then he decided to join the army and she left for New York while I stayed here and—”

“Whoa, slow down,” Blaine said. “I was a junior?”

Kurt smiled sarcastically. “Yes, that was the worst part, obviously.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, more serious, and leaned their heads together. “We’re going to New York. Together. You’re going to Parsons, I’m going to NYU. We’ll be only minutes away. Just you and me.”

“And Rachel,” Kurt pointed out. They both looked at the girl asleep across from there.

“Don’t worry, we can get rid of her once we’re in New York,” Blaine said.

“That’s true,” Kurt said and rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder.

“You’re still really shaken up, aren’t you?” Blaine asked.

“A bit,” Kurt said.

Blaine leaned down to kiss him, then settled back into a sleeping position, and whispered, “Courage, Kurt.”

This time, when Kurt fell asleep, he didn’t dream about anything at all.

Spies Like Us

blainetology:

Because I made a post about Kurt always being sent to spy.

—-

“Why are you being sent on this mission, exactly?”

“Tina and her brigade are making the costumes, Mike and Brittany are working on choreography,” Kurt began, ticking off each person on his fingers as he browsed through his closet for something appropriate. “Santana’s too loud, Sam would get lost, Artie and Puck stick out, Rachel can’t go for obvious reasons, Finn can’t go because he’ll punch Jesse again and get thrown in jail, and if you were caught you’d probably give them our setlist in apology.”

“Hey,” Blaine scowled from where he was sprawled on Kurt’s bed, lips falling into a pout. “I wouldn’t - not again.”

“You’re just not so great under pressure, honey,” Kurt smiled. “It’s ok. It’s good. I like it. I know when you’re lying. Ah,” he exclaimed softly, pulling a striped henley from the rack and tossing it onto the bed.

“And you’re a master spy?” Blaine asked, sitting up and straightening out the shirt, laying it on the pants Kurt had already retrieved.

“It worked out pretty well the last time,” Kurt shrugged, and Blaine could see him biting his lip to contain his smile.

“You were discovered within minutes and ended up defecting to the competition.” Blaine picked up the clothes when Kurt gestured to them with an absent grabby hand. He crossed to the mirror and held them in front of Kurt’s body, wrapping his arms around him in the process. “How was that a success?”

“Wellllllllll,” Kurt drawled. “I did manage to steal their featured soloist,” He tipped his head back to rest his temple against Blaine’s. “So, classy but low key enough for Carmel?”

“You’ll fit right in,” Blaine grinned, turning his head a little to press a kiss behind Kurt’s ear as he tightened his arms around him . “Just don’t let anyone show you any shortcuts.”

glee fic: that party dress is such a mess

littledust:

msmoocow replied to your post: Give me fic prompts!

quinn comeuppance

~1100 words of prom dress shopping in S3. Title from “Nova Baby” by the Black Keys. Quinn’s dress is loosely based off this one.

—-

Big events are supposed to change your life. Plastic surgery. Cheating on your boyfriend. The wrong number of lines on a pregnancy test. Getting thrown out of your house twice. Having a baby. Losing that baby. A car accident. Things aren’t supposed to slide into place in the middle of a department store, turning over the price tags on discount dresses and hoping you have enough money to look pretty at your last prom.

Quinn has already rejected a dozen dresses: she wore blue last year; black makes her look like she actually died in the accident; orange doesn’t do her complexion any favors; pink just doesn’t seem to fit her anymore. She pauses at a strapless dress that’s a deep plum color, ruched bodice giving way to a mermaid bottom. It’s sexy, a look she’s never really tried for the sake of propriety. Her punk phase was more disaster than seductive.

“What the hell am I doing?” she asks aloud, right there in front of half of glee club.

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