6 assorted prompt ficlets
So we've written some short prompts over the past few weeks/months! Much like last time, these were mostly done for fun and to snap us out of our writer's block at the time. All of the following were prompts for the format: [person] and [person] are stuck [in/at/on place] together. We'll be posting the other half of them later this weekend. :D
Blaine and Puck are stuck together in a dumpster, PG
"Is that spaghetti?" Blaine asks, wincing as he shakes it off his hand.
"I sure hope so," Puck groans from beside him. "Because I don't want to think of the alternatives."
"Why would they do this? Who just throws people into dumpsters?" Blaine asks, gingerly standing up and wobbling unevenly on top of a bag.
"Yeah, real jerks," Puck says, refusing to meet his eyes. Blaine files that away for later, when he's not currently covered in what he really hopes is tomato sauce and standing on top of something that feels like a bag full of pudding.
"How do we get out of here?" he asks.
"What do you mean how do we get out of here?" Puck asks, flicking a piece of lettuce and someone's math test off of his shoulder. "Just jump out."
"But it's so high up," Blaine says, looking sadly up at the top of the dumpster. It's a good four feet above him.
"Oh right," Puck says. "I forget you're like Berry-sized. Watch and learn." Puck jumps up, his hand scrambling against the wall of the dumpster at least a foot below the top.
"I'm watching," Blaine says, trying not to laugh.
"Whatever, shut up," Puck says. "This dumpster is way more empty than usual. At least I always had the courtesy to wait until it was mostly full to toss people-- a warning," Puck says, trailing off. "A warning not to get tossed in the dumpster."
"Sure," Blaine says, rolling his eyes. "Since you're the expert, how did people get out when you threw them in and they couldn't reach the top?"
"Um..." Puck says, patting at his back pocket and grabbing his phone. "Got it! Don't worry about it, Lauren's a total badass, she could probably pick us both up out of here with one hand."
Blaine sighs, relieved, because Puck's totally right. He saw Lauren give a drunken Finn a piggy back ride once. She'll totally rescue them.
"Uhhh," Puck says, pressing a button on his phone just in time for Blaine to hear Lauren's outgoing message.
"This is Zizes. Don't leave a message, I don't have time for your bullshit."
"I think she's at wrestling practice," Puck says sadly. "Or else she's still pissed that I wouldn't wear that lady underwear she bought me."
"What?" Blaine asks, not sure he wants to know.
"What?" Puck answers back, his eyes wide like he just realized what he said.
"... yeah, okay," Blaine sighs, reaching for his own phone. "I'll call Kurt. But fair warning, he'll probably make us walk home. Once he wouldn't let me get in his car after I played with a dog at the park, and that was just hair."
"Fair enough," Puck says, picking up an unopened bag of Doritos and looking at it, considering.
"Hello darling," Kurt says when he picks up.
"Kurt," Blaine says. "We're trapped in the dumpster and we can't get out."
"Who's we?" Kurt asks.
"Me and Puck," Blaine says, wincing when Puck opens the bag and happily crunches down on a chip. "You have to hurry. I think he's gone feral."
Santana and Kurt are stuck on the very top of a ferris wheel together, PG, 600+ words
"Oh come on, are you serious?" Santana snaps after the third time the operator tells them it will be "just another minute" through a bullhorn.
"Stop being so impatient," Kurt says, staring down at his phone. "He said it will just be another minute."
"And everyone knows you can't trust a carnie, god," Santana says. "Didn't your dad teach you any life skills?"
"I must have zoned out when he covered the relative trustworthiness of carnival folk," Kurt says, sighing and finally looking up from his stupid phone. "Why are you freaking out? I thought you said you weren't afraid of heights."
"I'm not," Santana snaps. She is. Just a little bit, though. Going on the stupid ferris wheel wasn't scary, but being stuck at the very top in a wobbly ass car with Kurt of all people was. "How did we even end up here?" she asks.
"I don't trust Blaine on tall rides where you're not strapped in and Brittany was afraid of going into a cloud and never coming out," Kurt says matter of factly. "Even though we're nowhere near that high up. And also it's night time."
"That was a rhetorical question," Santana says, crossing her arms.
"Oh my god," Kurt says, pocketing his phone and turning to face her. "You really are scared."
"I am not scared," Santana grits out. "But if you don't stay the fuck still so this rusty death trap stops swaying every which way I will kill you. No, actually, I'll do better than that. I'll sleep with your boyfriend."
"He's gay," Kurt says, still smiling entirely too wide. "And also you're gay."
"Doesn't mean I couldn't make it happen," Santana hisses. "After all, he kissed Rachel. Clearly he has no standards."
"Um, hello," Kurt says, motioning to himself.
"That's debatable," Santana says, and she's getting ready to launch into a diatribe about his elf ears that she has been saving up for years now when the ferris wheel gives a hard lurch that throws them backwards and she yelps and grabs at his arm.
"Hey, whoa there, okay," Kurt says, trying to loosen her fingers from his arm. "I think you're drawing blood."
"Good," Santana says, squeezing her eyes shut as the ferris wheel lurches again and they start moving forward this time.
"Santana," Kurt says softly, patting her arm. "Look, it's okay. We're moving now, we'll be off in no time."
"Excellent," she says, slitting her eyes open to make sure he's telling the truth. "Excellent," she repeats, casually pulling her hand back and flipping her hair over her shoulder as their car shudders to a stop and the stupid lying carnie who lies opens it for them.
"How was it?" Brittany asks, bouncing up to them as they exist the ride. "Did you taste the clouds? Did they taste like cotton candy?"
"No clouds," Santana says, linking her arm with Brittany's and trying to ignore the wobble in her knees. "But come on, we'll go get you some cotton candy and I'll tell you all about how Kurt cried like a tiny little girl when we were stuck at the top."
"Hey," Kurt snaps from somewhere behind her. "That is not what--"
"Let it go," she hears Blaine say quietly. "Just let it go."
"Don't worry, Kurt," Brittany says, turning around to walk backwards and smile at him reassuringly. "Santana wouldn't have let anything happen to you. She's a total badass."
"Damn right," Santana says, kissing Brittany's cheek and guiding her to the side so she doesn't trip over the cables running across the ground.
Kurt and Brittany are stuck in an elevator together, PG, 580 words
"Oh no," Brittany says, as the elevator grinds to a halt somewhere between the 32nd and 33rd floors of their hotel. "Does this mean I'm pregnant?"
"... what?" Kurt asks, squinting at her. There's just no possible way that can make sense, even in Brittany-Land.
"I watch a lot of Saved By The Bell reruns and in one episode they got stuck in an elevator and Zack had to deliver Mrs. Belding's baby," she says, like it makes perfect sense.
"No, Brittany," he says, patting her arm. "No. No one will be having any babies, I promise."
"Cool," Brittany says, turning around to fuss with her hair in the mirrored back wall of the elevator. "I think Lord Tubbington would resent me if I came home from New York with a baby."
"And we can't have that," Kurt says, pressing the emergency open button with no success. He pops open the door for the phone and pulls it out, reading the instructions.
"Who are you calling?" Brittany asks.
"The front desk, so they can get us out of here," Kurt says.
"Can you ask them to bring me a burger?" Brittany asks. "I'm really hungry."
"Let's not divide their attention, okay?" Kurt says. "First, our freedom. Then your burger."
"Fine," Brittany says, plopping down to the floor. "But they'd better hurry up, because you smell like cake and it's making me even hungrier."
Kurt makes a mental note to throw out his Kiehl's vanilla lip balm and sighs in relief when the concierge picks up the phone. "How can I help you?"
"Yes, my friend and I are stuck in the middle elevator between the 32nd and 33rd floors," he says.
"Oh, yes, that one's been giving us trouble. Please stay calm, ma'am, and we'll send someone to get it working shortly."
"Wonderful," Kurt says, deadpan, as the line goes dead.
"They'll be here soon," Kurt reports, studying the floor before carefully lowering himself to sit beside Brittany.
"Do you remember that time you were my boyfriend?" Brittany asks, cocking her head at him.
"No," Kurt says, scooting away from her as subtly as he can. "No, I don't."
"You're a really good kisser," Brittany says, scooting after him. "If we end up stuck here forever, we should totally date again. That way we can have babies and repopulate the elevator world."
"That's not even how it works," Kurt says, wincing when his voice cracks a little in panic.
"Yes it is," Brittany says. "I know how sex works, I have a lot of it."
"Not the sex, the-- stop talking about sex," Kurt says.
"But I'm bored," Brittany says. He's scooted himself into a corner and Brittany is slowly closing in on him, her hand stroking up his leg to his thigh.
"Brittany, no," Kurt says firmly. "Bad. No."
"Can we at least hold hands?" Brittany asks, her hand worryingly high up on his thigh.
"Maybe later," Kurt says as the elevator jerks to life and starts to climb down again. "Oh thank goodness," he breathes to himself, jumping up and going to the far side of the elevator, away from Brittany.
"Bummer," Brittany says. "I was really looking forward to touching your soft baby hands again."
"Think of it this way," Kurt says as the doors start to slide open. "Now you can get that burger."
"It won't be the same," Brittany says sadly, blowing him a kiss as Kurt hurries out of the elevator doors.
Kurt and Blaine stuck in a hippie commune together, PG-13, 1,300+ words
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Kurt asks, stepping disdainfully over what looks like a pile of rags but turns out to be a person.
"Wherever you go," the rag-person says serenely, "there you are."
"Then maybe you should go to the shower," Kurt says, wrinkling his nose.
"Kurt," Blaine hisses, pulling away by the arm. "You said you'd be nice."
"I said I'd be nice to Santana, and I will be," Kurt says. "No matter what's apparently happened to her."
"Oh hush," Blaine says, checking his phone. "She said she lived in cabin moon goddess."
"You're kidding, right?" Kurt asks, but considering the building in front of them has a hand-painted sign proclaiming it "cabin starchild," Kurt has a sinking feeling that Blaine is telling the truth.
"Oh, the moon goddesses!" a slight redhead says, twirling her way out from behind a tree. "They're my favorites, who are you here to see?"
"Santana Lopez?" Blaine asks, smiling politely. The girl has actual flowers braided into her hair, and is walking around barefoot in a hideous floral caftan that could have come from Rachel's closet. Kurt feels unclean.
"Oh, you mean sister wind!" the girl says, smiling widely. "We love her."
"Okay, I can't do this," Kurt says, turning on his heel only to have Blaine grab his belt-loop and drag him back.
"Kurt! Blaine!" Kurt turns to see Santana emerging from a path in the woods. She's in a long, indecently sheer white dress with a crown of flowers in her hair. Kurt half expects some cartoon animals to follow her out but instead a set of flushed, giggling blond twins step out behind her, one of them topless and the other one pulling her skirt up.
"How lovely to see you!" she says, her voice calm and smooth. "If you'd just follow me, I've had some herbal sun tea brewing all morning in preparation of your arrival."
Kurt shoots Blaine an uneasy look but follows him as he trails after Santana.
"Okay, spill it," Kurt says, as soon as they've rounded the cabin and are away from all the blissed-out flower children. "What's your angle?"
"My angle is love," Santana says. "Love and a greater understanding of the world around us."
"Have you been brainwashed?" Kurt asks. "Did they give you kool-aid? You're not supposed to drink the kool-aid."
"Well I think that sounds lovely," Blaine says, shooting Kurt a pointed look as Santana opens a door to cabin moon goddess and motions them inside.
"Oh god," Kurt says as he steps inside. "This whole place reeks of patchouli."
"Ugh, I know, right?" Santana says, shutting the door behind them. "It makes me want to slap myself, but the benefits outweigh the hippy-dippy costs, trust me."
"I knew it," Kurt says triumphantly, turning to point at Blaine. "I told you."
"You did not tell me, you just rolled your eyes a lot," Blaine points out. "But okay, seriously, Santana, what is going on? No one's heard from you for like a year and then suddenly you text us to meet you in upstate New York at some... " Blaine trails off, seemingly unsure of what to call their current surroundings.
"Giant smelly hippie commune," Kurt fills in helpfully.
"Look," Santana says, tossing the crown of flowers across the room, "I know you two are gay, but are you blind?"
"No, but I wish I was," Kurt says. "I can see your ovaries in that dress."
"Gross, Hummel," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "Use your precious little gay brain. I've reached nirvana here. Did you see those twins? Twins. I need to text Puck and brag about that one."
"Wait," Kurt says, narrowing his eyes. "You're hiding out on a hippie commune so you can have sex?"
"Not just sex," Santana says, tapping at the wood floor of the cabin and pulling up a loose floor board. She reaches in and comes back with a cigar and a lighter. "This shit is, like, next level. Every single girl here is practically insatiable. There's no more, 'I promise, your boyfriend never has to know!' or 'Sorry, babe, I just really don't dig on Tegan and Sara!' It's just sex. 24/7. Indoors, outdoors, alone, in groups. It's incredible."
"Tegan and Sara are actually quite good," Blaine says, and Kurt glares at him.
"Santana, this is horrible," Kurt says. "You're pretending to be someone you're not just for sex."
"Who doesn't, Mr. 'Sure, Blaine, I love golfing,' Santana says, lighting her cigar and rolling her eyes.
"Wait," Blaine says. "You don't like golfing?"
"That's not the point, the point is that Santana is deceiving these poor, unsuspecting girls."
"Oh please," Santana says, puffing out a ring of smoke. "Half of these girls go to NYU and Columbia in the fall and come out here all summer to get their crunchy granola lesbian on. I'm just doing them a favor."
"With your mouth," Kurt grumbles, rolling his eyes as Santana grins happily at him.
"But you said you loved golfing," Blaine says quietly.
"We'll talk about it later, honey," Kurt says, giving Blaine a quick kiss on the cheek. "First I want to find out exactly why Santana summoned us to her patchouli-scented wet dream."
"I invited you," Santana says, blowing a lungful of smoke at his face, "because I am an awesome friend and I wanted to share."
"You do realize that we, by definition, aren't interested in having sex with ladies, right?" Kurt asks.
"Of course I do, my pretty little pony," Santana says, patting his cheek. "I know that you and Warbler McShortstack over there are probably very vanilla and like to make tender love by a fire while soft jazz plays, but I just felt like I'd be a horrible friend if I didn't give you two the opportunity to get your no-strings-attached on."
"Again, Santana, gay."
"If you would let me finish," Santana says. "I have it on good authority that there's a men-only commune starting up right down the road."
"Santana, I don't think--" Blaine starts, but he's cut off by a tentative knock on the door.
"Crap," Santana hisses, stubbing her cigar out and shoving it and the lighter back under the floorboard. She lights a stick of incense and grabs her crown from the floor, hurriedly sticking it on her head. "Be cool," she throws over her shoulder as she opens the door to reveal the tiny redhead from earlier.
"Sister wind," the girl says, looking up at her hopefully. "I was hoping you had some spare time. It's been almost a week since the last time we were together."
"Well we can't have that, can we," Santana says, tucking the girl under her arm and leading her inside. "My gentlemen callers were just leaving," she says, staring at them pointedly.
"Right you are," Kurt says, rolling his eyes and grabbing Blaine's hand as he heads for the door.
"Just remember, brothers," Santana says kindly as they head out the door. "The paradise you seek is closer than you know! Two lefts and a right at the farmer's market!"
"Oooh, the farmer's market!" the redhead says. "Sister wind, can we go? I've heard such wonderful things about their tomatoes."
"Mmm hmm, sure thing!" Santana says, walking to the door to shut it after them. "Right after we're done."
"The nerve of her," Kurt says, smoothing his shirt down as they head back up the trail to their car. "Like I would ever lower myself to pretending to be a dirty hippie just to cheat on you."
"It's not cheating if we're doing it together," Blaine says with a shrug.
"You're not serious, right?" Kurt says, stopping and turning on his heel to look at Blaine right as some rather loud and enthusiastic moans start spilling from the windows of Santana's cabin.
"I was just pointing out the obvious," Blaine says, wincing as a particularly loud cry rings out.
"Yes, well, I'm going back to the car," Kurt says, walking a little faster than is strictly necessary up the path. "Feel free to go frolic with the brothers of the flying spaghetti monster or whatever it is they are," he calls over his shoulder, "but if you come back wearing hemp anything we are officially breaking up."
Kurt and Blaine are stuck in the Tardis together ( DW!AU), PG, 850+ words
"Berry!" Blaine yelps as he tumbles through the Tardis doors. "Berry, Berry, Berry!" Kurt considers telling him that he hasn't actually met Rachel yet, but the look of horror on her face as Blaine barrels toward her is too hilarious.
"Look here, mister," Rachel says, smacking Blaine on top of the head. "My boyfriend is right there, and he's big, and he doesn't take kindly to people mauling me!"
"Yeah!" Finn says, straightening up his deplorable posture to stare down at Blaine. Very, very far down. "Wait," he says. "You're not like an evil space alien who can kill me, right? Because in that case, you can maul her all you-- oww!" Finn yelps, when Rachel turns her slaps on him.
"You haven't met her yet, Blaine," Kurt says when Rachel gets a vicious glint in her eye that's a little scary.
"Oh!" Blaine says. "My mistake, sorry. Things can get a bit confusing sometimes. I'm Blaine, nice to meet you!" Rachel stares at him with narrowed eyes for a second before slowly extending her hand.
"I'm--"
"Rachel Berry! Grew up in Lima, Ohio to become one of broadway's biggest--"
"Ahem," Kurt says pointedly, shooting Blaine a glare.
"Broadway's biggest what?" Rachel asks, grabbing onto Blaine's lapels. "Broadway's biggest what?"
"Spoilers!" Blaine says, patting her cheek and stepping around her to lounge against the Tardis console in a way that Kurt has asked him not to at least 87 times now, depending on where exactly they are in each other's particular time streams.
"Would you get off the console already, before you--" Kurt's cut off by a loud siren starting up as a hissing noise fills the Tardis.
"Oops," Blaine says, jumping up. "That probably wasn't anything important, right?"
"Oh no," Kurt says, "nothing important at all! You've just sealed us all inside of the Tardis for eternity, nothing to worry about."
"Right, see, nothing to-- wait. Eternity?" Blaine asks, his face blanching. "Eternity like... forever eternity?"
"No, the other kind," Kurt says. "The kind of eternity that's not eternal at all, and is in fact just for a second!"
"Oh, thank goodness!" Blaine and Rachel both sigh at the same time.
"I was kidding, you imbeciles," Kurt groans, turning to the console and poking a few buttons. Sometimes it works, poking buttons, other times it-- "Oops," Kurt says, as the flashing red light changes to blue.
"Oops?" Rachel asks, her voice getting hysterical. "What oops?"
"I've shut down the internal heat regulators, which means we'll freeze to death in the vacuum of space," Kurt says quickly. Blaine, Finn, and Rachel all stare at him with the same incredulous eyes. Must be a human thing, he figures. "On the plus side, we won't have to spend an eternity in the Tardis because we'll all be frozen in about four hours or so?" he tries. There's always a bright side.
"Fix it," Rachel says, advancing on him with her finger out. "You fix it right now. You told me you'd have me home tomorrow in time to perform at the hot air balloon festival and--"
"Oooh!" Blaine says. "Not the 2011 Lima, Ohio Hot Air Balloon Festival? It can't be, that would just be too perfect!"
"Yes," Rachel says, turning on him. "Why, what happens?"
"Nothing," Blaine says, his eyes going big as he shakes his head. Kurt can tell right as he's about to crack, because he starts chewing on his bottom lip and vibrating with excitement. "You certainly don't sneak onto a balloon to perform Defying Gravity and get swept away, leading police on a cross-state hot air balloon chase, that does not happen," he says, slapping a hand over his mouth as soon as he's done. "Oh, spoilers," he says sadly to himself.
"Wait," Rachel says, her eyes lighting up. "Am I on the news? Does it go national? Do people fear for my life and then celebrate my triumphant return, possibly in song?"
"Uh, guys?" Finn says. "Shouldn't we maybe be focusing on the whole freezing to death thing?"
"Right you are!" Kurt says, turning back to the console. "Now, come along, Blaine, and chop-chop, Berries! This is going to take some serious jiggery pokery."
"That's not, like, space code, is it?" Finn asks nervously. "You're not going to probe me, are you?"
"No, Finn," Kurt sighs. "I'm not going to probe you."
"I make no such promises," Blaine says, waggling his eyebrows in Finn's direction. "After all, sharing body heat is the best way to stay warm."
"Yes, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Kurt says, motioning Finn over to his side just to be safe. "Now, let's get on with it, shall we? Rule #67 of time travel: never accept defeat even when defeat is imminent!"
"That doesn't really make sense," Rachel says.
"Neither do those shoes with that dress, but I've been very polite in not pointing that out," Kurt says. "Now, if you will, hand me that dohickey while Finn twists the thingamabob. Blaine, you're on rubber chicken duty."
Chris and Darren are stuck on an island together (RPF), PG-13, 490+ words
They've been on the island for approximately seven minutes, going by Chris's sea monkey watch, anyway, when Darren plops down onto the sand and says, "Well, I guess we'd better have sex."
"What?" Chris asks, turning away from watching the last remains of their boat bob away. "What exactly is it about this situation that screams 'we should have sex' to you? I'd love to know, honestly."
"What, that's not what you're thinking?" Darren asks.
"No," Chris says tightly. "I'm thinking about food, and drinking water, and how long it will take for someone to realize we're missing, and how long it would take me to snap and eat you if we can't find food."
"... dude," Darren says, squinting up at him. "That's fucked up."
"More fucked up than immediately wanting to bone me?" Chris asks, making sure to leave space between them when he drops to the sand, in case Darren takes it as some kind of signal that he's willing and ready for sandy beach sex.
"That's how it works on TV," Darren says. "Either we explore each other sexually or a smoke monster shows up, and the sexual exploration is the less confusing of those two options."
"You watch stupid TV," Chris huffs. "What, did you never watch Gilligan's Island?"
"I watched Swiss Family Robinson," Darren says, his eyes lighting up. "Holy shit, do you think there are any ostriches here that we can race?"
"I'm not talking to you anymore," Chris says, turning his back on Darren even though it means the sun is shining directly into his face. Fuck, he hopes his sunscreen holds up until someone notices they're missing and comes after them. "'Come on, Chris!'" he mumbles under his breath. "'It'll be fun, Chris! Nothing bad will happen!'"
"I am never listening to you again," Chris says, loudly enough that he's sure Darren can hear.
"Yeah, yeah," Darren says, shuffling around behind him until his back is pressed against Chris's and they're holding each other up. "You said the same thing after we got trapped in that giant pot of gold at the leprechaun museum in Ireland."
"I told you to never mention that again," Chris says, letting his head fall back onto Darren's shoulder. "How long do you think it will take someone to come looking for us?"
"We were supposed to go to dinner with Mark and Ashley at five," Darren says.
"Oh great," Chris sighs. "They'll order drinks and then forget we were supposed to meet them in the first place. We're doomed."
"Sucks," Darren says, dropping his head to Chris's shoulder. They sit in silence for all of five more minutes before Darren clears his throat and says, "So. How long do we have to be stuck here before sex becomes an option?"
"Five days," Chris says, throwing a handful of sand over his shoulder at Darren. "But cannibalism becomes an option on day two, so don't get too excited."
Blaine and Puck are stuck together in a dumpster, PG
"Is that spaghetti?" Blaine asks, wincing as he shakes it off his hand.
"I sure hope so," Puck groans from beside him. "Because I don't want to think of the alternatives."
"Why would they do this? Who just throws people into dumpsters?" Blaine asks, gingerly standing up and wobbling unevenly on top of a bag.
"Yeah, real jerks," Puck says, refusing to meet his eyes. Blaine files that away for later, when he's not currently covered in what he really hopes is tomato sauce and standing on top of something that feels like a bag full of pudding.
"How do we get out of here?" he asks.
"What do you mean how do we get out of here?" Puck asks, flicking a piece of lettuce and someone's math test off of his shoulder. "Just jump out."
"But it's so high up," Blaine says, looking sadly up at the top of the dumpster. It's a good four feet above him.
"Oh right," Puck says. "I forget you're like Berry-sized. Watch and learn." Puck jumps up, his hand scrambling against the wall of the dumpster at least a foot below the top.
"I'm watching," Blaine says, trying not to laugh.
"Whatever, shut up," Puck says. "This dumpster is way more empty than usual. At least I always had the courtesy to wait until it was mostly full to toss people-- a warning," Puck says, trailing off. "A warning not to get tossed in the dumpster."
"Sure," Blaine says, rolling his eyes. "Since you're the expert, how did people get out when you threw them in and they couldn't reach the top?"
"Um..." Puck says, patting at his back pocket and grabbing his phone. "Got it! Don't worry about it, Lauren's a total badass, she could probably pick us both up out of here with one hand."
Blaine sighs, relieved, because Puck's totally right. He saw Lauren give a drunken Finn a piggy back ride once. She'll totally rescue them.
"Uhhh," Puck says, pressing a button on his phone just in time for Blaine to hear Lauren's outgoing message.
"This is Zizes. Don't leave a message, I don't have time for your bullshit."
"I think she's at wrestling practice," Puck says sadly. "Or else she's still pissed that I wouldn't wear that lady underwear she bought me."
"What?" Blaine asks, not sure he wants to know.
"What?" Puck answers back, his eyes wide like he just realized what he said.
"... yeah, okay," Blaine sighs, reaching for his own phone. "I'll call Kurt. But fair warning, he'll probably make us walk home. Once he wouldn't let me get in his car after I played with a dog at the park, and that was just hair."
"Fair enough," Puck says, picking up an unopened bag of Doritos and looking at it, considering.
"Hello darling," Kurt says when he picks up.
"Kurt," Blaine says. "We're trapped in the dumpster and we can't get out."
"Who's we?" Kurt asks.
"Me and Puck," Blaine says, wincing when Puck opens the bag and happily crunches down on a chip. "You have to hurry. I think he's gone feral."
Santana and Kurt are stuck on the very top of a ferris wheel together, PG, 600+ words
"Oh come on, are you serious?" Santana snaps after the third time the operator tells them it will be "just another minute" through a bullhorn.
"Stop being so impatient," Kurt says, staring down at his phone. "He said it will just be another minute."
"And everyone knows you can't trust a carnie, god," Santana says. "Didn't your dad teach you any life skills?"
"I must have zoned out when he covered the relative trustworthiness of carnival folk," Kurt says, sighing and finally looking up from his stupid phone. "Why are you freaking out? I thought you said you weren't afraid of heights."
"I'm not," Santana snaps. She is. Just a little bit, though. Going on the stupid ferris wheel wasn't scary, but being stuck at the very top in a wobbly ass car with Kurt of all people was. "How did we even end up here?" she asks.
"I don't trust Blaine on tall rides where you're not strapped in and Brittany was afraid of going into a cloud and never coming out," Kurt says matter of factly. "Even though we're nowhere near that high up. And also it's night time."
"That was a rhetorical question," Santana says, crossing her arms.
"Oh my god," Kurt says, pocketing his phone and turning to face her. "You really are scared."
"I am not scared," Santana grits out. "But if you don't stay the fuck still so this rusty death trap stops swaying every which way I will kill you. No, actually, I'll do better than that. I'll sleep with your boyfriend."
"He's gay," Kurt says, still smiling entirely too wide. "And also you're gay."
"Doesn't mean I couldn't make it happen," Santana hisses. "After all, he kissed Rachel. Clearly he has no standards."
"Um, hello," Kurt says, motioning to himself.
"That's debatable," Santana says, and she's getting ready to launch into a diatribe about his elf ears that she has been saving up for years now when the ferris wheel gives a hard lurch that throws them backwards and she yelps and grabs at his arm.
"Hey, whoa there, okay," Kurt says, trying to loosen her fingers from his arm. "I think you're drawing blood."
"Good," Santana says, squeezing her eyes shut as the ferris wheel lurches again and they start moving forward this time.
"Santana," Kurt says softly, patting her arm. "Look, it's okay. We're moving now, we'll be off in no time."
"Excellent," she says, slitting her eyes open to make sure he's telling the truth. "Excellent," she repeats, casually pulling her hand back and flipping her hair over her shoulder as their car shudders to a stop and the stupid lying carnie who lies opens it for them.
"How was it?" Brittany asks, bouncing up to them as they exist the ride. "Did you taste the clouds? Did they taste like cotton candy?"
"No clouds," Santana says, linking her arm with Brittany's and trying to ignore the wobble in her knees. "But come on, we'll go get you some cotton candy and I'll tell you all about how Kurt cried like a tiny little girl when we were stuck at the top."
"Hey," Kurt snaps from somewhere behind her. "That is not what--"
"Let it go," she hears Blaine say quietly. "Just let it go."
"Don't worry, Kurt," Brittany says, turning around to walk backwards and smile at him reassuringly. "Santana wouldn't have let anything happen to you. She's a total badass."
"Damn right," Santana says, kissing Brittany's cheek and guiding her to the side so she doesn't trip over the cables running across the ground.
Kurt and Brittany are stuck in an elevator together, PG, 580 words
"Oh no," Brittany says, as the elevator grinds to a halt somewhere between the 32nd and 33rd floors of their hotel. "Does this mean I'm pregnant?"
"... what?" Kurt asks, squinting at her. There's just no possible way that can make sense, even in Brittany-Land.
"I watch a lot of Saved By The Bell reruns and in one episode they got stuck in an elevator and Zack had to deliver Mrs. Belding's baby," she says, like it makes perfect sense.
"No, Brittany," he says, patting her arm. "No. No one will be having any babies, I promise."
"Cool," Brittany says, turning around to fuss with her hair in the mirrored back wall of the elevator. "I think Lord Tubbington would resent me if I came home from New York with a baby."
"And we can't have that," Kurt says, pressing the emergency open button with no success. He pops open the door for the phone and pulls it out, reading the instructions.
"Who are you calling?" Brittany asks.
"The front desk, so they can get us out of here," Kurt says.
"Can you ask them to bring me a burger?" Brittany asks. "I'm really hungry."
"Let's not divide their attention, okay?" Kurt says. "First, our freedom. Then your burger."
"Fine," Brittany says, plopping down to the floor. "But they'd better hurry up, because you smell like cake and it's making me even hungrier."
Kurt makes a mental note to throw out his Kiehl's vanilla lip balm and sighs in relief when the concierge picks up the phone. "How can I help you?"
"Yes, my friend and I are stuck in the middle elevator between the 32nd and 33rd floors," he says.
"Oh, yes, that one's been giving us trouble. Please stay calm, ma'am, and we'll send someone to get it working shortly."
"Wonderful," Kurt says, deadpan, as the line goes dead.
"They'll be here soon," Kurt reports, studying the floor before carefully lowering himself to sit beside Brittany.
"Do you remember that time you were my boyfriend?" Brittany asks, cocking her head at him.
"No," Kurt says, scooting away from her as subtly as he can. "No, I don't."
"You're a really good kisser," Brittany says, scooting after him. "If we end up stuck here forever, we should totally date again. That way we can have babies and repopulate the elevator world."
"That's not even how it works," Kurt says, wincing when his voice cracks a little in panic.
"Yes it is," Brittany says. "I know how sex works, I have a lot of it."
"Not the sex, the-- stop talking about sex," Kurt says.
"But I'm bored," Brittany says. He's scooted himself into a corner and Brittany is slowly closing in on him, her hand stroking up his leg to his thigh.
"Brittany, no," Kurt says firmly. "Bad. No."
"Can we at least hold hands?" Brittany asks, her hand worryingly high up on his thigh.
"Maybe later," Kurt says as the elevator jerks to life and starts to climb down again. "Oh thank goodness," he breathes to himself, jumping up and going to the far side of the elevator, away from Brittany.
"Bummer," Brittany says. "I was really looking forward to touching your soft baby hands again."
"Think of it this way," Kurt says as the doors start to slide open. "Now you can get that burger."
"It won't be the same," Brittany says sadly, blowing him a kiss as Kurt hurries out of the elevator doors.
Kurt and Blaine stuck in a hippie commune together, PG-13, 1,300+ words
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Kurt asks, stepping disdainfully over what looks like a pile of rags but turns out to be a person.
"Wherever you go," the rag-person says serenely, "there you are."
"Then maybe you should go to the shower," Kurt says, wrinkling his nose.
"Kurt," Blaine hisses, pulling away by the arm. "You said you'd be nice."
"I said I'd be nice to Santana, and I will be," Kurt says. "No matter what's apparently happened to her."
"Oh hush," Blaine says, checking his phone. "She said she lived in cabin moon goddess."
"You're kidding, right?" Kurt asks, but considering the building in front of them has a hand-painted sign proclaiming it "cabin starchild," Kurt has a sinking feeling that Blaine is telling the truth.
"Oh, the moon goddesses!" a slight redhead says, twirling her way out from behind a tree. "They're my favorites, who are you here to see?"
"Santana Lopez?" Blaine asks, smiling politely. The girl has actual flowers braided into her hair, and is walking around barefoot in a hideous floral caftan that could have come from Rachel's closet. Kurt feels unclean.
"Oh, you mean sister wind!" the girl says, smiling widely. "We love her."
"Okay, I can't do this," Kurt says, turning on his heel only to have Blaine grab his belt-loop and drag him back.
"Kurt! Blaine!" Kurt turns to see Santana emerging from a path in the woods. She's in a long, indecently sheer white dress with a crown of flowers in her hair. Kurt half expects some cartoon animals to follow her out but instead a set of flushed, giggling blond twins step out behind her, one of them topless and the other one pulling her skirt up.
"How lovely to see you!" she says, her voice calm and smooth. "If you'd just follow me, I've had some herbal sun tea brewing all morning in preparation of your arrival."
Kurt shoots Blaine an uneasy look but follows him as he trails after Santana.
"Okay, spill it," Kurt says, as soon as they've rounded the cabin and are away from all the blissed-out flower children. "What's your angle?"
"My angle is love," Santana says. "Love and a greater understanding of the world around us."
"Have you been brainwashed?" Kurt asks. "Did they give you kool-aid? You're not supposed to drink the kool-aid."
"Well I think that sounds lovely," Blaine says, shooting Kurt a pointed look as Santana opens a door to cabin moon goddess and motions them inside.
"Oh god," Kurt says as he steps inside. "This whole place reeks of patchouli."
"Ugh, I know, right?" Santana says, shutting the door behind them. "It makes me want to slap myself, but the benefits outweigh the hippy-dippy costs, trust me."
"I knew it," Kurt says triumphantly, turning to point at Blaine. "I told you."
"You did not tell me, you just rolled your eyes a lot," Blaine points out. "But okay, seriously, Santana, what is going on? No one's heard from you for like a year and then suddenly you text us to meet you in upstate New York at some... " Blaine trails off, seemingly unsure of what to call their current surroundings.
"Giant smelly hippie commune," Kurt fills in helpfully.
"Look," Santana says, tossing the crown of flowers across the room, "I know you two are gay, but are you blind?"
"No, but I wish I was," Kurt says. "I can see your ovaries in that dress."
"Gross, Hummel," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "Use your precious little gay brain. I've reached nirvana here. Did you see those twins? Twins. I need to text Puck and brag about that one."
"Wait," Kurt says, narrowing his eyes. "You're hiding out on a hippie commune so you can have sex?"
"Not just sex," Santana says, tapping at the wood floor of the cabin and pulling up a loose floor board. She reaches in and comes back with a cigar and a lighter. "This shit is, like, next level. Every single girl here is practically insatiable. There's no more, 'I promise, your boyfriend never has to know!' or 'Sorry, babe, I just really don't dig on Tegan and Sara!' It's just sex. 24/7. Indoors, outdoors, alone, in groups. It's incredible."
"Tegan and Sara are actually quite good," Blaine says, and Kurt glares at him.
"Santana, this is horrible," Kurt says. "You're pretending to be someone you're not just for sex."
"Who doesn't, Mr. 'Sure, Blaine, I love golfing,' Santana says, lighting her cigar and rolling her eyes.
"Wait," Blaine says. "You don't like golfing?"
"That's not the point, the point is that Santana is deceiving these poor, unsuspecting girls."
"Oh please," Santana says, puffing out a ring of smoke. "Half of these girls go to NYU and Columbia in the fall and come out here all summer to get their crunchy granola lesbian on. I'm just doing them a favor."
"With your mouth," Kurt grumbles, rolling his eyes as Santana grins happily at him.
"But you said you loved golfing," Blaine says quietly.
"We'll talk about it later, honey," Kurt says, giving Blaine a quick kiss on the cheek. "First I want to find out exactly why Santana summoned us to her patchouli-scented wet dream."
"I invited you," Santana says, blowing a lungful of smoke at his face, "because I am an awesome friend and I wanted to share."
"You do realize that we, by definition, aren't interested in having sex with ladies, right?" Kurt asks.
"Of course I do, my pretty little pony," Santana says, patting his cheek. "I know that you and Warbler McShortstack over there are probably very vanilla and like to make tender love by a fire while soft jazz plays, but I just felt like I'd be a horrible friend if I didn't give you two the opportunity to get your no-strings-attached on."
"Again, Santana, gay."
"If you would let me finish," Santana says. "I have it on good authority that there's a men-only commune starting up right down the road."
"Santana, I don't think--" Blaine starts, but he's cut off by a tentative knock on the door.
"Crap," Santana hisses, stubbing her cigar out and shoving it and the lighter back under the floorboard. She lights a stick of incense and grabs her crown from the floor, hurriedly sticking it on her head. "Be cool," she throws over her shoulder as she opens the door to reveal the tiny redhead from earlier.
"Sister wind," the girl says, looking up at her hopefully. "I was hoping you had some spare time. It's been almost a week since the last time we were together."
"Well we can't have that, can we," Santana says, tucking the girl under her arm and leading her inside. "My gentlemen callers were just leaving," she says, staring at them pointedly.
"Right you are," Kurt says, rolling his eyes and grabbing Blaine's hand as he heads for the door.
"Just remember, brothers," Santana says kindly as they head out the door. "The paradise you seek is closer than you know! Two lefts and a right at the farmer's market!"
"Oooh, the farmer's market!" the redhead says. "Sister wind, can we go? I've heard such wonderful things about their tomatoes."
"Mmm hmm, sure thing!" Santana says, walking to the door to shut it after them. "Right after we're done."
"The nerve of her," Kurt says, smoothing his shirt down as they head back up the trail to their car. "Like I would ever lower myself to pretending to be a dirty hippie just to cheat on you."
"It's not cheating if we're doing it together," Blaine says with a shrug.
"You're not serious, right?" Kurt says, stopping and turning on his heel to look at Blaine right as some rather loud and enthusiastic moans start spilling from the windows of Santana's cabin.
"I was just pointing out the obvious," Blaine says, wincing as a particularly loud cry rings out.
"Yes, well, I'm going back to the car," Kurt says, walking a little faster than is strictly necessary up the path. "Feel free to go frolic with the brothers of the flying spaghetti monster or whatever it is they are," he calls over his shoulder, "but if you come back wearing hemp anything we are officially breaking up."
Kurt and Blaine are stuck in the Tardis together ( DW!AU), PG, 850+ words
"Berry!" Blaine yelps as he tumbles through the Tardis doors. "Berry, Berry, Berry!" Kurt considers telling him that he hasn't actually met Rachel yet, but the look of horror on her face as Blaine barrels toward her is too hilarious.
"Look here, mister," Rachel says, smacking Blaine on top of the head. "My boyfriend is right there, and he's big, and he doesn't take kindly to people mauling me!"
"Yeah!" Finn says, straightening up his deplorable posture to stare down at Blaine. Very, very far down. "Wait," he says. "You're not like an evil space alien who can kill me, right? Because in that case, you can maul her all you-- oww!" Finn yelps, when Rachel turns her slaps on him.
"You haven't met her yet, Blaine," Kurt says when Rachel gets a vicious glint in her eye that's a little scary.
"Oh!" Blaine says. "My mistake, sorry. Things can get a bit confusing sometimes. I'm Blaine, nice to meet you!" Rachel stares at him with narrowed eyes for a second before slowly extending her hand.
"I'm--"
"Rachel Berry! Grew up in Lima, Ohio to become one of broadway's biggest--"
"Ahem," Kurt says pointedly, shooting Blaine a glare.
"Broadway's biggest what?" Rachel asks, grabbing onto Blaine's lapels. "Broadway's biggest what?"
"Spoilers!" Blaine says, patting her cheek and stepping around her to lounge against the Tardis console in a way that Kurt has asked him not to at least 87 times now, depending on where exactly they are in each other's particular time streams.
"Would you get off the console already, before you--" Kurt's cut off by a loud siren starting up as a hissing noise fills the Tardis.
"Oops," Blaine says, jumping up. "That probably wasn't anything important, right?"
"Oh no," Kurt says, "nothing important at all! You've just sealed us all inside of the Tardis for eternity, nothing to worry about."
"Right, see, nothing to-- wait. Eternity?" Blaine asks, his face blanching. "Eternity like... forever eternity?"
"No, the other kind," Kurt says. "The kind of eternity that's not eternal at all, and is in fact just for a second!"
"Oh, thank goodness!" Blaine and Rachel both sigh at the same time.
"I was kidding, you imbeciles," Kurt groans, turning to the console and poking a few buttons. Sometimes it works, poking buttons, other times it-- "Oops," Kurt says, as the flashing red light changes to blue.
"Oops?" Rachel asks, her voice getting hysterical. "What oops?"
"I've shut down the internal heat regulators, which means we'll freeze to death in the vacuum of space," Kurt says quickly. Blaine, Finn, and Rachel all stare at him with the same incredulous eyes. Must be a human thing, he figures. "On the plus side, we won't have to spend an eternity in the Tardis because we'll all be frozen in about four hours or so?" he tries. There's always a bright side.
"Fix it," Rachel says, advancing on him with her finger out. "You fix it right now. You told me you'd have me home tomorrow in time to perform at the hot air balloon festival and--"
"Oooh!" Blaine says. "Not the 2011 Lima, Ohio Hot Air Balloon Festival? It can't be, that would just be too perfect!"
"Yes," Rachel says, turning on him. "Why, what happens?"
"Nothing," Blaine says, his eyes going big as he shakes his head. Kurt can tell right as he's about to crack, because he starts chewing on his bottom lip and vibrating with excitement. "You certainly don't sneak onto a balloon to perform Defying Gravity and get swept away, leading police on a cross-state hot air balloon chase, that does not happen," he says, slapping a hand over his mouth as soon as he's done. "Oh, spoilers," he says sadly to himself.
"Wait," Rachel says, her eyes lighting up. "Am I on the news? Does it go national? Do people fear for my life and then celebrate my triumphant return, possibly in song?"
"Uh, guys?" Finn says. "Shouldn't we maybe be focusing on the whole freezing to death thing?"
"Right you are!" Kurt says, turning back to the console. "Now, come along, Blaine, and chop-chop, Berries! This is going to take some serious jiggery pokery."
"That's not, like, space code, is it?" Finn asks nervously. "You're not going to probe me, are you?"
"No, Finn," Kurt sighs. "I'm not going to probe you."
"I make no such promises," Blaine says, waggling his eyebrows in Finn's direction. "After all, sharing body heat is the best way to stay warm."
"Yes, well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," Kurt says, motioning Finn over to his side just to be safe. "Now, let's get on with it, shall we? Rule #67 of time travel: never accept defeat even when defeat is imminent!"
"That doesn't really make sense," Rachel says.
"Neither do those shoes with that dress, but I've been very polite in not pointing that out," Kurt says. "Now, if you will, hand me that dohickey while Finn twists the thingamabob. Blaine, you're on rubber chicken duty."
Chris and Darren are stuck on an island together (RPF), PG-13, 490+ words
They've been on the island for approximately seven minutes, going by Chris's sea monkey watch, anyway, when Darren plops down onto the sand and says, "Well, I guess we'd better have sex."
"What?" Chris asks, turning away from watching the last remains of their boat bob away. "What exactly is it about this situation that screams 'we should have sex' to you? I'd love to know, honestly."
"What, that's not what you're thinking?" Darren asks.
"No," Chris says tightly. "I'm thinking about food, and drinking water, and how long it will take for someone to realize we're missing, and how long it would take me to snap and eat you if we can't find food."
"... dude," Darren says, squinting up at him. "That's fucked up."
"More fucked up than immediately wanting to bone me?" Chris asks, making sure to leave space between them when he drops to the sand, in case Darren takes it as some kind of signal that he's willing and ready for sandy beach sex.
"That's how it works on TV," Darren says. "Either we explore each other sexually or a smoke monster shows up, and the sexual exploration is the less confusing of those two options."
"You watch stupid TV," Chris huffs. "What, did you never watch Gilligan's Island?"
"I watched Swiss Family Robinson," Darren says, his eyes lighting up. "Holy shit, do you think there are any ostriches here that we can race?"
"I'm not talking to you anymore," Chris says, turning his back on Darren even though it means the sun is shining directly into his face. Fuck, he hopes his sunscreen holds up until someone notices they're missing and comes after them. "'Come on, Chris!'" he mumbles under his breath. "'It'll be fun, Chris! Nothing bad will happen!'"
"I am never listening to you again," Chris says, loudly enough that he's sure Darren can hear.
"Yeah, yeah," Darren says, shuffling around behind him until his back is pressed against Chris's and they're holding each other up. "You said the same thing after we got trapped in that giant pot of gold at the leprechaun museum in Ireland."
"I told you to never mention that again," Chris says, letting his head fall back onto Darren's shoulder. "How long do you think it will take someone to come looking for us?"
"We were supposed to go to dinner with Mark and Ashley at five," Darren says.
"Oh great," Chris sighs. "They'll order drinks and then forget we were supposed to meet them in the first place. We're doomed."
"Sucks," Darren says, dropping his head to Chris's shoulder. They sit in silence for all of five more minutes before Darren clears his throat and says, "So. How long do we have to be stuck here before sex becomes an option?"
"Five days," Chris says, throwing a handful of sand over his shoulder at Darren. "But cannibalism becomes an option on day two, so don't get too excited."