Fics
Here is a masterpost of stuff I’ve written..I’m just gonna put a general warning here of overall angst and be prepared for le cries.
I dont write FF often, but when I do, I stick to one-shots, mostly klaine. And I write in a format based off of songs. Generally put one song on repeat while reading/writing. I would put little plot summaries here, but I find they would just give away too much for these. I love to hear feedback from readers too..comments, suggestions, thoughts, blubbery nonsense.. :)
Enjoy!
It had been 3 years since he’d last seen Kurt. There was no denying, this was going to be awkward. Finn had kept Blaine mildly in the loop of the goings-on in Kurt’s life after all had been said and done, but Blaine and Kurt hadn’t actually spoken to each other in years.
A very drenched private school boy was standing on the Hummel-Hudson doorstep with his back to the house. At the sound of the door opening, he turned quickly, running a clenched hand through his wet, curly hair. He had a panicked and painful look on his face, and Kurt couldn’t tell if it was stained with rain drops or tears.
Finn and Rachel drove in silence. Rachel’s elbow rested on the window, her head cupped in her hand. She started at the bare trees that blurred past the country road. He mind miles away from where they were headed. Actually, now that she thought about it, her mind had been eerily blank. Thoughts would try and form and then get whisked away into an empty abyss. She felt the car slow and turn onto a cobblestone driveway, passing a pair of stone gates.
The music stopped. Kurt sat frozen, not wanting to shift his eyes from the keys, hoping that if he didn’t look, that then maybe he wasn’t there. Maybe he’d imagined the low drawl of a voice that haunted his nightmares.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Kurt couldn’t help but let his eyes flick towards the voice this time.
He gaped, his body turning to stone.
Blaine picked up both mugs and turned to empty table in front of him. He paused and cocked his head slightly. The pile of newspapers sat untouched in front of the empty chair. Blaine looked down at the two steaming cups in his hands.The crash of the red mug hitting the opposite wall, liquid covering almost every surface of the kitchen, muted the chime of the toaster.
“I want to apologize,” came Blaine’s voice, suddenly much closer. Kurt cursed himself as his head snapped towards his boyfriend’s quiet voice. Blaine was still standing a few feet away, giving Kurt his space, though he looked positively torn between standing his ground and rushing over to Kurt’s side.
Finally his hands fell on a small prescription bottle, one he had received from his psychiatrist to help calm himself when he had spells like this. To help keep his head clear and his emotions from taking over. They always made him drowsy and usually he avoided them if possible, but at this point he would do anything to take the pain and anger away.
The silence of the room spoke of everything they were fighting so hard to ignore. Blaine was sure his hands would go numb if he continued to hold onto Kurt’s shirt with such a grip. But, if he was honest with himself, he was terrified of what would happen if he let go.
Blaine froze, his eyes shot open in horror. The entire club turned in their seats to the new voice coming from the back of the room. No one recognized him; he definitely wasn’t a student but had a familiar saunter about him.
Kurt’s heart twisted in his chest seeing Blaine like this. He’d seen Blaine angry, frustrated, sad, embarrassed - but never in a complete breakdown. Kurt would see these cracks in his normally bouncy self, but whenever they happened Blaine would make time to for a boxing session and that would help. This time they weren’t so lucky.
“What happened?” Kurt whispered,
And Here’s Writing Prompts that have nothing to do with anything:
