December 19th, 2011

phasers-Troy is needy [rs4jenn]

Fic: Where There's Smoke Klaine AU [8/12+]

Author: Stoney
Title: Where There's Smoke [8/12+]
Rating: This part R for intense action and nudity [zomg nekkid butts]
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine, Wes and David friendship, mentions of former Finn/Rachel
Word Count: 10,500/100,000
Warnings: Kurt finally hangs out at the fire station. Guess what happens? (Be prepared, my firefighter daughters, for intense situations)
Summary: Fireman AU, set 7 years after graduation. Kurt is Kurt, except that he never met Blaine Anderson. Blaine grew up in Brooklyn with his mother and firefighter father. Rachel and Kurt have graduated NYADA, Kurt gained a Masters from Tisch, and now they're in their first post-college apartment together ready to tackle their dreams. Unfortunately, Rachel never learned how to properly cook and almost sets their new house on fire. Enter Dreamy McFirepants.
A/N: This wouldn't exist without the most amazing editor a person could ask for, flaming_muse. Any remaining errors fall squarely on her my shoulders. :D Also, I am ultimately a romantic, I don't like character death, I love writing happy endings, and Kurt and Rachel live in my dream place in Carroll Gardens (it's modeled after a real piece of real estate there.) I tried to be as accurate as a visitor to NYC can get, but did take a few liberties with neighborhood bodegas.

(Speaking of flaming_muse - if you think you like how I write Kurt and Blaine, you really should read everything she's written. I learned at her knee.)


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Dwight misses Jim [vertical_leap]

2 hours I'll never get back

Well, my sinus infection has screwed up my sense of time, because I thought today was the 18th, not the 19th. (I'm not even going to start on how I still have holiday decorations lying around and hardly any presents bought - I'm pulling the atheist card on that.) I weirdly had a summons to court for child support (um, new folks: I have an ex. He has never paid child support. It's been years. Eh.) I raced to the court, and laughed when I got there, because RIGHT! Gov't offices. That meant at least an hour wait.

And let me tell you, there is no place on earth more depressing than a child support field office. (Thank DNA/Big Bang/God of your choice that I am financially secure.) So awful. And I feel like a jackass in clothes that are nice with a nice purse and my iPhone and...well. Some dad swanned in ready to be every lady's BFF and chatted them all up and admired their crying babies and had a portable filing cabinet on the birth mother/his significant other maybe? (reading between the lines?) and I wanted to tell him that those offices are just like the elevator: be quiet and watch the numbers.

(Oh, and it was a hilarious episode of Keystone Cops because they didn't have all of the papers, and they don't have jurisdiction, nor do they have his confirmed address and HAHAHA, it's been years, why would I think they would have this down? At least I don't need the money. My kids deserve the money, but we don't need it.)

ION, I am continually blown away by the amazing response I'm getting for this story I'm posting. I mean... a few weeks ago I was ready to delete the whole thing, just sure it was crap. (Thank you, flaming_muse again for talking me out of it, and beating my story up until it became something better.) I just...I've been writing fanfic for YEARS and never had this kind of reaction. HAPPY CHRISMUHKWANZUKAH TO ME!

IOON, I am sick of chicken noodle soup, but I have no energy to go to the end of the block for Tom Kha. [/my life is the hardest] [/suck it, legless orphans that are also blind]

I WOULD LIKE TO BE ENTERTAINED. And fed fudge. And biscuits. How about it, Science?