Kurt Hummel

Even though Kurt was doing his best to keep up with his overly ambitious schedule, there were days when he wanted to do nothing more than laze out on the trampoline. He had patterns to make, brunch recipes to plan, a part to rehearse, and a fiancé to consider, but something about that morning was just too much for Kurt to process, and so he laid out on top of the trampoline right outside of the Compound.

Just thinking.

Five minutes turned into ten, then ten into half an hour, and he could only stare at the unrelenting blue of the sky, fingers rubbing along the gold band on his finger.

It was a good day, all things considered, but so much had happened in the past couple of months that Kurt felt incapable of focus.

Licking his lips, he glanced up as he heard steps approach, brow arching to see if it was anyone familiar.

So far, 2013 is looking to be a far better year than 2012 ever was. With Henry IV, Part 1 on the horizon and a shiny ring on his finger, Kurt can't help the extra spring in his step as he goes about his day, trying his best to manage it all— a healthy relationship with his fiancé, advancement in his art, and balancing the many friendships that he enjoys on the island. Today, his ventures include trying to perfect the art of no-bake cheesecake on an island where many of the ingredients are fairly scarce.

Fortunately, the bookshelf decided to cut him some slack, offering up recipes for vegan cheesecakes. But when his finished product sits on his kitchen counter, Kurt can't help but think that he'd prefer to have someone to share it with, good or bad.

Biting down on his lips, he glances through the empty cottage, knowing that Blaine isn't due back for hours yet. Instead, Kurt bounces on over to Billy and Teddy's place, hoping that one of them is home.

(It's really nice having them so close by.)

"Anyone willing to brave some questionable pastries with me?" he asks, knocking sharply on their door.

Over the course of the past twenty-four hours, Kurt Hummel has slept a lot. More sleep than any single person has a right to in a single day, enough that his head is pounding and his eyes find no relief from having been closed so long, his cheeks flushed red and feverish as he groans, trying to find a forgiving position on his bed. The feel of the sheets under his skin is always what has him keeping his eyes closed— too soft, thread count too high to be the island, the mattress perfectly supporting his back, leaving him with no need at all to beg Blaine for a massage.

But on the tenth time Kurt starts to slip up and out of sleep, the sheets feel rougher, the birds sound louder, and perhaps most importantly, there's a weight that rests on top of his waist. So he tries to open his eyes, keeping them cracked open just by a sliver, breath catching when he sees the face in front of him.

He's back.

Impossibly, irrationally, Kurt holds silent as best he can, not wanting to shatter the moment. But he can't seem to keep himself from reaching out with a hand, tracing along the curve of Blaine's cheek with a careful finger, then letting it dip lower, along the line of his jaw.

Truth be told, nothing feels the same. Even though every single memory has been filed back in place, even though the island seems to be quickly licking its wounds and letting the sand wash over them with the rise of the tide, nothing feels quite the same to Kurt, and he's not sure what there is to do about that. For all the crazy things that the island's done in the past, displacing people and places, it's never before so wholly removed parts of their person. At least, not to Kurt's knowledge. And even with everything now back in place, the prospect that it may happen again is nothing short of terrifying.

Kurt never wants to forget who he is. He never wants to forget where he's been, what he's done, the people in his life who make it as colorful as it is. He still hasn't climbed back from the shock of seeing someone he cares for so much forget him in full, and it results in a slightly glazed look to Kurt's eye as he wanders about the island. There are friendships to mend, courses to catch up on, time to be made up for, and he just doesn't quite know where to start.

He does, however, still manage to get to the kitchen on time for his regular Sunday shift, keeping himself busy until the largest influx of people has died down, at which point he seats himself at the kitchen table and picks at his omelette.

So here's what you missed on Glee:

Kurt's life has kind of taken a turn for the more exciting lately, between co-directing a musical that includes naked butts and toplessness — ("I don't know if I should be here.") — and being serenaded by Blaine Anderson in what was practically a real life musical — ("I won't give up on us.") — and he's kind of reeling from all of the action, which came to a head on his nineteenth birthday — ("It's like I can finally stop searching. Being with you feels like I'm just... coming home.") — but we can't really show you too much of that because whoa, network ratings. Now he's still stuck with Spring Awakening on the way and starting to get worried about just how much directing he's going to have to do with his boyfriend in the lead role. Did we mention that there are naked butts involved?

And that's what you missed on... Glee!


The time has come, and even after the passage of a good two weeks, Kurt finds that it isn't any easier to face the inevitable. He's spent plenty of afternoons going over the libretto, spent time at the piano to try and work out any minute changes to the feel, all based on the unique performances being put on by all of the cast. He's spent hours watching the crew work on the stage as well, creating backdrops, props, positioning them all under Craig's careful command. It's been a thrill and an honor both to work with such a large group of dedicated and talented individuals, that Kurt's certain of, and there are days at a time when he feels like he's doing nothing other than living, breathing, and dreaming about Spring Awakening.

And still, none of that's prepared him for this.

He's pulled both of them aside to inform them of what they really need to get started on today. Blaine, Kurt's probably told a few times by now, carefully pacing out the alerts in the time they spend together, laced with nervous laughter and quickly shoved aside in favor of just enjoying the time they have together. Jenny, on the other hand, Kurt approached during their last big rehearsal, making sure that she'd have a couple of days to center herself before the private session. Kurt also asked Mary Jane for help with the two, but quickly met with resistance.

"You'll get a lot more out of this exercise if you're forced out of your box," she pointed out.

Kurt's not so certain of that.

But it's unavoidable. Melchior and Wendla's scene in the hayloft may just about be the climax of the show itself, in its way; there's really no way they can go about censoring it without losing a great deal of the impact and intrigue. And so Kurt sits on the side of the stage, ten minutes ahead of the scheduled time.

Wishing that the earth would swallow him whole.

So here's what you missed on Glee:

Kurt's been kind of whining this whole winter about the lack of his family and friends on the island, and it seems to have worked, because Rachel showed up right on Christmas Day — ("Please tell me that you see something strange about the auditorium.") — even though she's Jewish and was in the middle of a pretty important audition for the school musical. Did we mention that Kurt just happened to be in the middle of practicing for the very role that Rachel played last year? ("The thing is... I really want to be in it. I know the show already — I played Janet — not that I want Kurt's part or anything, of course.") Rachel did.

But now people all across the island seem to be getting mysterious presents that appear out of thin air — ("Sweet.") — and Kurt's a bit skeptical, but maybe seeing all this swag has him protesting a little less than he'd otherwise be.

And that's what you missed on... Glee!

I know what you're thinking. I've got exactly one week left in January, which is purportedly the month when everyone on the island receives a present from the Powers That Be. I've been generally keeping a fair amount of distance from any big gifts, sweeping or otherwise, that the island drops off, but I've had it reassured to me several times over that these annual gifts are usually the safer of the bunch, and that I shouldn't worry.

With a red canvas messenger bag looped over Kurt's shoulder, pieced together from an overlarge blazer courtesy of the clothes box, he made his way around the Compound after a long day's worth of dance, ready to enjoy a coveted fifteen minute break before shuffling off to a meal, and then his next class. The sun seemed to practically smile from overhead, and the snow hadn't worn off enough for Kurt to tire of it just yet, so he decided to take a detour to the trampoline around back, an admittedly guilty pleasure.

And, well, seeing Puck receive a guitar and Wichita jamming to the tunes on her brand new iPod have left me curious as to whether or not there's anything in store for me. I don't need big and flashy, I suppose, but had I ever believed in Santa, I guess this is the equivalent of waiting, wondering if you'll receive presents or coal in your stocking on Christmas Day. Seven days left, and I've honestly kind of lost hope.

A sigh passed through his lips as he let his books drop gently to the ground, before then falling back against the stretched elastic of the trampoline. Soon enough, he'd have to find shade— his skin burned more easily than it had any right to, honestly— but for a few blissful seconds, he could simply listen to the rustling of wind through the trees and enjoy the scent of pastries in the air.

But as he began to stretch his arms, a brush against cold metal had him blinking himself to awareness, freezing in place before suddenly scrambling to a seat. Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze fell upon a wide range of items laid out where the trampoline had been bare seconds before, what looked like a series of harnesses, sashes, and perhaps most noticeably, a pair of sai swords.

His smile widened.

Maybe I spoke too soon.


[ Come witness Kurt as he's about to be a sneaky little ninja. This post is dated January 24th, but will be linked to the main comm in February. ST/LT welcome, no limit on tags, open to all. ]

So here's what you missed on Glee:

After a heart-to-heart with his BFF Grace about that boy Maxxie, Kurt determined that he may want to hold off on trying to find someone to date for the time being — ("The sort of thing that'd make me swear a vow of celibacy, or at least swear that my love is only meant for the stage.") — and is instead focusing on both self-defense — ("Just think of this as football practice or something; the guys certainly piled on each other enough, there.") — and considering another go at Rocky Horror, but this time auditioning for Jane Weiss — ("Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me, I wanna be dirty."). Oh, and did we mention that the island's turned into some strange version of Victorian London? But steampunk. Weird, but kinda cool.

And that's what you missed on... Glee!


Having considerably cheered since finding a rich, dark red velvet cloak in the Compound's clothing box, the halt of snow has Kurt feeling more energetic now than in the first few days of London. With the skies relatively clear, and a few heated stones tucked away in the linings of his pockets, Kurt finds that he can keep himself warm for a fair amount of time as he wanders about London, cheeks rosy with excitement and the cold alike. The long afternoons are made easier by hauling a friend out with him for the trip, and today the person of choice happens to be Billy Kaplan, practically dragged out of the Compound as soon as Kurt noticed that he'd worn the same outfit two days in a row. Which was, all things considered, already criminal on the island proper— but now, with actual shops around which carried respectful choices without the need to dig through improper sizes and neon colors? There was simply no excuse.

Whatsoever.

"This way, this way," Kurt announces, arm wrapped tightly around Billy's own as he spots the first of many clothing shops for the two of them to browse through, shooting Billy a quick look that allows for no argument as they step inside, suddenly awash in warmth and the scent of textiles. As seems to often be the case, the shopkeeper chooses that moment to head into the back, leaving them with the privacy needed to carefully work their way through the selection. "Right. Pick a color. Anything other than red," he instructs, glancing around with wide and approving eyes.

So here's what you missed on Glee:

Kurt's still really into Blaine, while Blaine doesn't really know what he wants and even got his mack on with Rachel, although locking lips with her seems to have put him back on the right team. Blaine's discovered that Kurt's idea of getting his sexy on looks more like someone holding back a lot of gas, and Burt's collected a slew of pamphlets to try and educate his son, but Kurt's still showing resistance. Both the New Directions and the Warblers are preparing for Regionals, but the Warblers are looking more like Blaine and the Pips by the day, and we don't think Kurt's too happy about that.

And that's what you missed on... Glee!


Although Kurt would have certainly preferred to spend the day working on a Judy Garland number adapted for the Warblers, he could understand the club's enthusiasm and Blaine's eagerness to use Top 40 hits to appeal to a mass audience. Maroon 5 was, all things considered, a band that saw remarkable success given their lackluster quality in live performances, and Kurt could only imagine that the Warblers' charm and tailored uniforms would add to the effect. But as he sat on the bench, feeling the ground move under his feet and hearing the fists of his classmates pounding on the tables, his mind couldn't keep from repeating a single thought, time and time again: this song was just more of the same.

Among all of the Warblers, there was one young man who stood out from the rest, with ineffable charm and the ability to capture an audience with every single note. But for all that Kurt appreciated finally being able to discuss the finer details in life with someone over a Grande non-fat Mocha, he couldn't help thinking back to the New Directions every single time the Warblers met for practice, and how much stronger their little band of misfits was for the way they showcased each individual member's strengths. Brittany and Mike were fantastic dancers, Mercedes could belt them out as well as Aretha herself, Tina's voice had an unmatched clarity, Quinn and Sam's voices were sweet enough to give anyone a toothache, and Kurt would be lying if he said that he'd never envied Rachel's ability to carry a Broadway tune. In the Warblers, however, Blaine was given so many solos that Kurt had started to feel that his voice was becoming white noise in the background. Yes, he was jealous. Yes, he was a little resentful of the fact that every suggestion of his was shot down without a second thought. But what was there to do?

He wasn't on his home turf.

It took a few seconds before Kurt quickly began to realize that the pounding had stopped. The white noise was gone. And when Kurt looked up, all of the intricate wooden molding had disappeared, paintings and chandeliers nowhere to be seen. A quick glance down to his hand revealed that Kurt was still sitting on the same bench as before, his messenger bag threatening to slip over the edge. (Pavarotti's cage, however, was notably missing.) He froze.

"Oh no," he breathed. "No, no. I don't know if Eli finally managed to clock me in the head with his overeager dancing, or if this is just because I spent too many hours with the Magic Markers for my diorama on Louis the Second, but— but it needs to stop now." He glanced around imploringly, nails digging into the fine leather upholstery as he noticed a jukebox playing in the background. Maroon 5.

"Or maybe it's a dream," Kurt reassured himself, sighing softly through his teeth. "Although really, world? A crappy jukebox and a worn sofa? The least you could have done was dropped me off at Seattle Grace."