CP Coulter
Hi, I'm CP Coulter. Welcome to my Tumblog! I might put original pieces, fanfiction, and fan-related things here. But remember: this is NOT a spoiler free zone, so enter at your own risk!
Rated: T
WC: 450,939
Post-Furt: Spinning off from Glee, Kurt begins an entirely new chapter in his life at Dalton Academy for Boys. Blaine, Wes, David and the boys of Windsor House make his life, for better or worse, far more eventful than he imagined.
The Stanton High School Fabulous Five
Rated: T
WC: 9,350
Side Story - Blaine
Before Blaine ever came to Dalton Academy, he had a small family of friends in Stanton High School. This is how they came to be, and how they separated.
Freshman Orientation
Rated: G
WC: 1,013
Side Story - All
The current generation of Dalton Boys at their freshman orientation. (aka The One Where They All Met)
Kurt, Reed, and Coco
Rated: G
WC: 689
Side Story - Windsor
Events that happened during the New York trilogy arc. Kurt goes to visit Reed's home in New York and meets a fluffy friend.
New Year's Greetings From East to West
Rated: G
WC: 555
Side Story - Stuart
Extra scene from Dalton's Episode "3...2...1". Logan makes a phone call to a friend across the country.
Always Perfect
Rated: T
WC: 2,592
Side Story - Stuart
Extra Scene from Dalton's Episode 20: "Double Acts". These are the events that happened prior to Kurt's visit to Stuart House.
A Rainy Story
Rated: T
WC: 1,275
Side Story - Hanover
This is a story about Hanover House, and how one of their most beloved members, Merril Portman, arrived at Dalton Academy.
Cat's Sleeping
Rated: G
WC: 634
Side Story - Stuart
Taken from 30 Days of Dalton, the Stuart trio have a moment of peace in the Hamptons. A small kiss may be involved.
With the Tide
Rated: G
WC: 1,241
Side Story - All
A beach full of rowdy Dalton boys on vacation. Vigilance pays off when a crisis arises.
I'll Cover You
Rated: G
WC: 729
Side Story - Windsor
Kurt gets sick. The Windsors are trying to be helpful when they are anything but.
Always Perfect

Julian looked up from his room when Logan passed by, clearly in some kind of rush. There was a strange light in his friend’s eyes—he actually responded with a nod when people greeted him in the hallway. He was hurrying to his room. Julian leapt off his bed and came into the hall just as Logan vanished into the anteroom that led to his room.

By the time he got into Logan’s room, the prefect had his bag on the floor, and was rooting through his music sheets, muttering in irritation.

"Seeing as how your mood is always so blissfully sunny," Julian began with flawless sarcasm, "did you have a good day or a bad day?"

Logan actually let that one slide. He must definitely have been in a better mood than usual. He shoved some sheets into Julian’s hand. “Hold these.”

"Yes, of course, you know how I adore being Your Majesty’s bookshelf." Julian glared and looked down at what was in his hands.

Duets. All of them. Logan was tearing them out of every hiding place he had in his room. “What are you doing? Cataloguing?”

"Warblers want a duet." Logan literally yanked a drawer open, pulling it out nearly all the way, tossed a few more sheets onto his bed and shoved it all back. Then he was dragging his keyboard out. "They want a duet, they get a duet. I have ideas. Too many. Have to work them out, and find a good one."

"Dear god, you’re actually singing with someone again," Julian’s eyes narrowed. There weren’t a lot of storm signals out there that warned people when something bad was going to happen, but Julian had been around long enough to know that Logan dueting with a Warbler had always heralded some kind of fiasco. "Far be it for me to question your impeccable life choices, but you haven’t done a public duet since—"

"Shut up and sit down," Logan snapped, grabbed his wrist and sat him next to him on the stool in front of the keyboard.

"What the hell, man?!" Julian demanded.

"Here." He flipped through the sheets in Julian’s hands, tore the others away and smacked a couple with the back of his hand. "That one. Put it on the stand."

Julian wanted to kick him. He looked down. “…Broken Strings?”


This is what you’re singing?”

“With some luck…” and a small smile played on Logan’s face. “I won’t sing it alone.”

Julian clenched his hands, feeling them grow cold almost immediately. But his face remained unchanged, his eyes never even flickered. Perfect.

He knew what Logan meant. The Alice from Windsor wasn’t going to get away so easily. Logan never ever went down without a fight, and he’d fight to his last breath when he’s set upon something. It was according to his own twisted principles.

In Logan’s mind, he was willing to be Kurt’s friend. That was fine. As long as he remained close to him, it would be all right. He would have his company, he would be in his presence and as far as things went, that was all right. But Blaine had impugned on his dignity by the face-off at the hallway. He wouldn’t have pushed if Blaine hadn’t acted that way.

Because if Blaine was threatened—did that mean that he could chip the armor enough to win? And wasn’t Kurt worth every try Logan had in him? Wasn’t he worth all those things? What was wrong in taking one more chance to become close—especially if succeeding meant he could really be with him?

Julian knew none of these things. He only knew that Logan was plotting again. And as he had always been, he was about to be accessory to the crime, a victim of the collateral damage that Logan’s desires wrought on their circle.

“Then,” Julian said coldly, “tell me again why I’m sitting here?”

“Sing this part.” Logan nodded to one of the sheets before turning his attention to the other ones, hands already playing the first part, trying it out.

Julian stared at him. “Excuse me? You’re making me sing with you? What am I, your test dummy for that diva in Windsor?”

Logan snorted without even looking at him. “You’ve done it before, what’s the big deal? Just do it, will you? What’s so groundbreaking about what you’re doing anyway?”

Julian’s eyes never flickered. Not once.

He had been studying the script of the movie his agent had sent him, for a part that he had been looking at for a while. It would have an onscreen marriage. A teen marriage because of an unexpected pregnancy. A movie that would speak volumes to the public at large. It was slated to be done by a very talented director with more than a few critically-acclaimed hits under his belt. The current lineup was so promising that people were threatening about awards. But they had not confirmed the teen male to be the groom.

And now they were offering it to him, Julian Larson.

The media went ballistic when the snitches dropped the hint that it might be him. He had not yet accepted. But everyone was predicting he would. He would be a lunatic not to. Dozens of other actors, older, more experienced than him, were salivating over that part. To slate an actual teenage boy to play the teen lead—that was new. And it could have only happened because of Julian’s history of success already.

Logan knew none of these things.

So. Nothing really groundbreaking.

“Fine,” Julian replied with perfect calmness, the image of a boy who was bored, mildly annoyed, and even patronizing. “I wasn’t doing anything important anyway. And you’ll whine like a brat until you get your way.”

“So spoke the primadonna.” Logan was playing easily now. There was a glint of triumph in his eye. He liked what he was hearing in the song, but it was subdued by the serenity of his expression. He was clearly looking forward to singing.

“Now sing at your cue,” the prefect commanded, as he began to play. He took a deep breath, eyes closed, and began sing as his hands laid on the keys.


Let me hold you for the last time

It’s the last chance to feel again

But you broke me now I can’t feel anything…


When I love you

It’s so untrue

I can’t even convince myself

When I’m speaking it’s the voice of someone else…


Julian sat next to him, listening and looking intently at him in his perfect silence. The one that belied neither warmth nor coldness, this empty slate. He sat listening to him, always listening to his voice, hearing every rise and fall of the note, every flicker of emotion that laced the words—Logan hardly ever chose a song just because it was “fun” to do. Oftentimes it had to mean something.

Because isn’t that how he managed to feel? Through the music?


Oh it tears me up

I tried to hold on but it hurts too much

I tried to forgive but it’s not enough

To make it all okay…


Wasn’t that why Julian listened whenever Logan sang? So he knew how he was feeling when his words weren’t convincing enough?

But his words were convincing today. And this song—this hateful, terrible song that Julian never wanted to listen to again after this—was just further reinforcement of everything that will never be aimed in his way. This song was Logan’s bitter call over his haze and his inability to express—calling to someone that will never be Julian.


You can’t play on broken strings

You can’t feel anything

That your heart don’t want to feel

I can’t tell you something that ain’t real…


Oh the truth hurts

A lie’s worse

I can’t like it anymore

And I love you a little less than before…


Green eyes aimed to Julian now, expectant. Almost irritated. Daring him to defy him and not sing—see what the consequences will be if Logan didn’t get his way. Logan always got his way. And maybe because he was spoiled that way. Derek and Julian let him have his way because he was so intent that he was tiring to fight.

It was tiring to act amidst lights, mics and cameras.

It was tiring to act sitting next to him, watching him pine.

Julian turned his eyes to the music sheets. He closed his eyes so they would never betray him. They would never ever do that, but he wasn’t going to take chances. When he sang, it had to be perfect. It had to be—

It shouldn’t show that it was everything he wanted to say. Logan would never know.


Oh what are we doing?

We are turning into dust

Playing house in the ruins of us…


When Logan’s voice rose to join his, the way it fitted in perfectly, his hand never shook, his eyelids never fluttered. He would always not know.


Running back through the fire

When there’s nothing left to save

It’s like chasing the very last train

When it’s too late (too late)…


Oh it tears me up

I tried to hold but it hurts too much

I tried to forgive but it’s not enough

To make it all okay…


His breath shook—just once. One, tiny imperceptible instance. It wasn’t enough. It was starting to hurt. He was going over the edge and that was it.

This all wasn’t enough. It had to stop, before things went wrong. He rose, ignoring Logan’s glare, but he kept singing. He headed to the bay window, his back turned from Logan, and sat there. When acting couldn’t save him, he had to turn away, just the way he always did.

But his voice said all other things that the rest of him couldn’t say.


You can’t play our broken strings

You can’t feel anything

That your heart don’t want to feel

I can’t tell you something that ain’t real…


Oh the truth hurts

And lie’s worse

I can’t like it anymore

And I love you a little less than before—


It had to stop.

The door opened. The music ceased.

Julian’s eyes flew open. Derek stood tall at the doorway of the room, his face impassive—done to make sure none of his displeasure showed at the presence of their volatile prefect. And next to him, looking in, was Kurt, hand curling elegantly over the strap of his bag, blue eyes looking over the room and looking as though the light seemed to fill his eyes.

Julian’s hands went cold on the sheets, but his face remained as perfect as ever.



"Hey, Kurt. Sorry I didn’t walk you back here—I went ahead, I just had so many ideas for that contest Harvey and Medel talked about."

"Yes, he did," Julian looked exasperated, waving the music sheets. "I’m not even a Warbler and I have to deal with all this too. Why don’t you have Bailey or Thaddeus or some other Warbler sing with you or something?"

"You did say you already had a single out," Kurt remarked, walking to Logan.

"Doesn’t mean I’m amiable to singing for little private school choirs…" Julian answered coolly.

"Ignore Julian, he’s got a stick shoved up his back end," Logan glared at him, to which his friend only answered, "Only because you put it there, Logan."

"You both can now stop this shameless flirting before you further embarrass me," Derek said sarcastically as Logan glared further at the actor. Derek looked at his best friend and then to Kurt. "We’ll leave you two to it."

Julian leaped off the window seat and offered the sheets with a flourish to Kurt with the smile that Kurt recognized from his TV show posters. Kurt gave him a look and took the sheets. “Good luck,” Julian remarked with another smile and he sauntered out of the room.


Julian was out the anteroom in seconds, headed down the hall, his breath coming fast. His hands were shaking as though he were in the grip of a fever. He headed out of the anteroom, walking quickly, ignoring the sound of Derek also leaving the room. Julian had to get to his own room. Quickly. Before the dam broke. Before it all broke.

He slammed the door to his room but he didn’t lean back on it.

Get a grip! He screamed to himself.

He felt his eyes grow hot—the threatening tell-tale sting growing stronger.

Stop it! He snarled inwardly.

He was an actor. He had every emotion and he could turn it into everything else. He was in perfect control. Always. He always had everything under control.

He turned the misery into rage. Logan had so much rage in him—Julian wanted to see what it felt like this time. He turned all the bitter hate—

hate that song—hate that look in his eyes—hate that Logan needs pills—hate that he’s looking at that diva from Windsor who Julian couldn’t even hate—hate that he could never be like Kurt in Logan’s eyes—that he was imperfect that way—

—into rage.

The fury stopped the tears dead, coursing through him in great waves as he glared with enough force to burn—glaring at nothing. He clenched his fists so hard they could have bled. He wanted to throw the nearest thing to him out the window. Fortunately, nothing was so handily available.

The fury ended.

He was left dead empty, exhausted by the substitution. He let out a breath that was too short, and took a few tired steps forward. Another test passed—perfect score. No one outside the room would ever know. He was always in control, he would always have to be in control, acting his life away, from the lights and cameras, to the books and empty dorm rooms.

The script lay on his window seat, pages flipping lightly in the wind.

Julian walked to it in silence, completely devoid of anything now. He didn’t feel any force of any emotion at all. He wondered why Logan wanted to feel sometimes. He’d like to swap sometimes. He didn’t want to feel any of the things he felt. He just wanted to be quiet.

Wasn’t that why angels marveled at humans so much? Because every emotion that ripped through them took a toll on their bodies? That they suffer damage with every joy, sadness and rage?

He picked up the script.

He heard music from that room—beyond the anteroom across the hall, into the prefect’s room. He could hear that music, of two beautiful voices soaring together with priceless emotion. He smiled a little. They were exactly the way Logan wanted—exactly what would make him happy.

They were perfect.


“…Hey, Carmen?”

“Julian! Finally! So I talked to Ellen’s people about the interview, we’re working it out. And then Teen Vogue wants a shoot with you and the boys for Something Dam—”

“—whatever, listen. …I’m taking the movie. The big one.”

“…oh my god.”


“That’s wonderful, Julian! Finally! Thank you—you’re finally coming around and listening to us! This is going to be monumental for you. This is going to be amazing! You’re just too absolutely perfect for the part!”


A lot of things were perfect in this world.

The petals of a red rose fluttered on top of the fanmail on Julian’s desk. Julian picked it up, brought it to his face, and smiled very slightly.


  1. upabovetheworldyoufly reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
    Three years later and it still hurts
  2. justasmallbloginabigklainefandom reblogged this from cpcoulter
  3. capsicles-and-ironhearts reblogged this from cpcoulter
  4. crazymangafangirl reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
  5. miyukikazuyaismine reblogged this from cpcoulter
  6. sarahprocrastinates reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
    I think this was the proper turning point in my Jogan shipping when I read it 4/5 months back. It just causes me pain...
  7. beaconthrillls reblogged this from mazedylan and added:
    Logan…Julian…look at you, all alive and uninjured….
  8. mazedylan reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
  9. midnightkit reblogged this from cpcoulter
  10. vampiretybalt reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
    Oh… okay. okay…keep it cool… fuck.
  11. agentremnant reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
    i … i don’t know what to say anymore
  12. bequietyouheathen reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
    So I finally read this and… Oh god. Okay, just rip out my heart and stomp on it. No big deal, I’m just sitting here...
  13. spoopybuttcronus reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
  14. plznfankhauser reblogged this from cpcoulter and added:
    Read this again during class today. Sobbed openly.
  15. goldperfection reblogged this from cpcoulter
  16. talkingtearose reblogged this from cpcoulter