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25 October 2011 @ 11:23 pm
Writing Glee, filled prompt table  

Done for gleeverse</lj>. As always, mafia (and now HIH) inspired, bad writing and *gasp*, even crack! Nothing great, just silly and full of mistakes.

YEARS (~134 words)
- Crack! New Directions! -

So when Brittany said she was working on a time machine, Santana realized she wasn’t kidding.

“How the hell did she managed to do that?” Artie asked.

“Nothing a little magic can’t do. Also, the dwarfs helped.” Brittany replied promptly. Everyone just stared and agreed that, for Brittany, it made sense.

“So, where are we going?” Finn asked, looking at the strange machine sitting at the top of the cheerleader desk.

“Not where. When. It’s a time machine, not a teletransporter.” Kurt pipped in. “And can we go to the future? I want to see if I have my name on Broadway.”

“Agreed!” Rachel jumped to get the machine, but Puck was quicker.

“No! Dinosaurs!” He said, turning the handles of the thing years and years and years back in time.

SPINNING (6-word fic)

Spinning the bottle, breaking his heart


Santana knew
That she was bigger than
Any one. Specially


Blaine would never forget how proud he felt when he first saw Kurt Hummel’s name shinning above Broadway.


Spring used to remind Kurt of his mother and Sunday morning picnics, until there was Blaine.

REALITY (~365 words)
- personal Kurt RP inspired Klaine! For smifli</lj> and queer_theory -

“I had the weirdest dream last night.” Kurt said, taking their usual table on Lima Beans. Blaine sat opposite to him, holding his cup of medium drip.

“Even more so than that dream you had we were Romeo and Juliet? Or the one we were trapped inside a odd detective-like kind of game with a bunch of strangers and I was secretly plotting to kill you?”

“Yes, more. And I thought we agreed on never mentioning that last one again.” Kurt made a face before taking a sip of his grande nonfat mocha.

Blaine smiled. “Sorry. What did you dream now?”

“I dreamed we were knights. Like, middle age full fledged Knights. With a Sir tittle and everything.”

Blaine never got tired of Kurt’s vivid imagination.

“Cool! Were we wearing chain-mail and fighting dragons of some sort?”

“Well, we had the chain-mails, no dragons though. I think you were talking about defeating snakes and lions and eagles. And taking me out to sushi, or something. It didn’t make much sense and it was all kind of fuzzy.”

Kurt shrugged, taking another drink. Blaine raised an eyebrow at his direction.

“That doesn’t seem so strange, though. I mean, you had weirder dreams than that.”

Kurt stared at him for a second, waiting for Blaine to lower his cup to the table before continuing.

“Did I mention you were calling me Sir Porcelain and I was calling you Sir Warbler?”

Blaine snorted a laugh that would have been a disaster if he was drinking his coffee. Kurt couldn’t help laughing too.

“I mean, why would I dream that?”

Kurt waited a few minutes until Blaine caught his air from laughing so much. Blaine was drying tears from his eyes.

“Maybe because you secretly wish I was your knight in shinning armor?”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile, thinking how Blaine was already that. But his reply was differently.

“In your dreams, Anderson. I’ll never be your dansel in distress.”

Blaine shook his head.

“Apparently, it’s in your dreams. But I must say that being a brave knight suits you best, Sir Porcelain.” He grined. .

“Shut up, Blaine.” Kurt said, grinning back.

SILENCE (~207 words)
- Kurt, angst -

Kurt hated hospital more than he could ever put it in words. Or songs. All the white, the clean smell of antiseptics and disinfectant, the sad and worry faces all around the waiting room.

He remembered being eight years old and sitting quietly on one of the uncomfortable chairs on that huge room while his father paced up and down from the nurse station to the OR swinging door to his chair.

He wanted to ask about his mother again, why there weren’t any news, he wanted to talk about anything, just to break the unbearable silence surrounding him. But he gave up when he saw his father’s tired expression. Burt had asked the same question to the nurses a few times in the last hour or so. Kurt started humming a tune under his breath instead.

Now even music escaped him. As he walked the those white corridors toward his father’s room, there was only that silence. At least until he opened the door and saw his father lying on that hospital bed, the rising and falling of his chest.

He heard the beeps of the heart monitor, the constant rhythm of a beating heart and it felt like music to his ears.


Kurt didn't want the diamond ring, only the kneeling man in front of him would do to make his happily-ever-after come true.

AIR (6-word fic)

Singing was like air to Kurt.