brit finding out about dantana.
I’m seeing someone.
Brittany read the text over and over again, blue eyes tracing every letter as she sat with her back to her bedroom wall, legs drawn up against her chest. It hurt. Thinking of Santana holding someone else, kissing her, telling her all of her secrets, made Brittany ache. It was so different from when it was Puck or Finn or Sam or David or even that one girl from her cheerleading squad. It was different because this wasn’t fake now. It wasn’t Santana hiding behind someone else to cover up who she was, what she was. It wasn’t Santana trying so hard to make Brittany jealous. There was no one in Brittany’s life right now. No one Santana could be mad at her for dating. This wasn’t Santana’s casual dates with choreographers and dancers and actors from Rachel and Kurt’s school.
No. This time, Santana was actually dating someone. A girl. It was the first time she’d dated a girl that wasn’t Brittany and called it ‘seeing someone’ instead of ‘saw someone’ or whatever. It was constant and continuous, present tense. And it felt like a dagger through Brittany’s heart. Twisting, twisting, so painfully sharp as it dug its edges into her.
Awesome! Pics or it didn’t happen! (:
She tried for casual and friendly and hoped Santana couldn’t feel her sadness and loneliness through the words. Hoped that she didn’t know Brittany’s hands were shaking or that there were tears stinging the back of her eyes. It wouldn’t be fair to force Santana to feel all of that. Not when Brittany had dated too. Not when she was the first person to see someone else after Santana broke up with her. It wasn’t fair to be jealous or sad, wasn’t fair to ache or yearn for her ex girlfriend. So she hoped Santana didn’t feel it or see it.
At least Santana had the grace and maturity to tell her, after all. Better than what Brittany had done when she’d started seeing Sam. That was different, of course. She’d been scared. She’d figured if she hadn’t told Santana, then she wouldn’t have to hurt her and maybe it wouldn’t feel real. She could date Sam the way Santana had- to look like she felt normal without her best friend. To hide behind him and use him as someone to love and hold when she couldn’t hold who she wanted.
The phone in her hand beeped as the picture came through and Brittany opened it.
She smiled, lips trembling, at the sight of Santana’s beautiful face. And then she let her gaze slip sideways and focus on the girl at Santana’s side. Work uniform, she noted. From Santana’s waitress job. Her lips were puckered so close to Santana’s skin and Brittany felt her fingers go tight around her phone, lips pursing. But it wasn’t like with the girl from her college squad. This girl’s eyes weren’t blank. They sparkled with obvious happiness, like Santana’s nearness was enough to bring her joy.
Brittany knew the feeling.
Her phone beeped again and she read the text Santana sent after the picture as the first tear rolled down her cheek.
Her name is Dani. We sing together. She’s really good.
Brittany sniffed and texted back, She’s really pretty, San.
Yeah, she is.
I’m glad you’re happy. (:
Thanks… I wish you were too. What’s wrong, Britt?
Brittany let out a shaky laugh and wiped her eyes. Of course Santana knew. She always knew. Brittany thought of all the answers she could give. Answers like “MIT is hard and I don’t like my classes” or “Everyone here stares at me either like I’m a unicorn in a zoo or scum scraped up from the sewers and plopped in a dorm room” or “I’m lonely and missing you but you have someone else now.” But she doesn’t want Santana to worry and she doesn’t want to ruin her happy glow. So she doesn’t say any of that. Instead she texts back,
Nothing, just tired. I think it’s bedtime. Night, San.
She pauses, not sure if she should sign off with “I love you” like they usually do, but it doesn’t matter. Santana texts back first.
Okay. Night, B. I love you.
I love you more than anyone in the entire world. I love you the most. Feel better.
And Brittany cried into the crook of her elbow after texting back I love you too, San. Forever.
+ I Need a Medic (X)
+ Clockwork (X)
+ I’ll Teach You to Dance (X)
+ 2859 (X)
+ White Shadows (X)
+ Push and Pull / Regrets and Regression (X)(X)
+ Subway Rides Oh, You Got Me Wondering (X)
+ Tongue Tied (X)
+ Dancing in a Downpour (X)
These are listed in chronological order of when they were made, not in order of preference
Summary: In which Paige is terrified of being a disappointment, and Emily shows her just how much that isn’t the case. Paily.
Rated M for sexual content, minor language.
[Trigger Warning: Mentions of self-harm]
Thanks for the prompt anon! I strayed from the prompt a little bit (Generally I always do to some degree) but I kept it 100% angst free (it was difficult not to put in ANY angst, I’m not gonna lie).
Emily bit her lip as she listened to the insistent dial tone on the other end of the phone. She almost wished that Paige wouldn’t answer. It was late, much too late to be calling anyone. Emily couldn’t sleep however and the need to hear Paige’s voice had eventually overridden her common sense.
Paige’s gruff voice startled Emily from her thoughts. “Uh…hey, it’s me. It’s Emily.”
“I know, caller ID. Plus I know what your voice sounds like.” Paige sounded vaguely amused. A short silence followed before Paige spoke up again. “Em? Are you still there?”
Thanks for the prompt anon!
“Are you almost done?”
Paige sighed and glared at the dressing room door. A couple of seconds later someone on the other side began to tap on it insistently.
“Paige? Are you okay in there?” Hanna’s voice was suddenly right next to the door.
“No, I’m not okay. I look ridiculous!” Paige huffed, glaring at the door.
“I’m sure you don’t,” Hanna replied, a hint of amusement seeping into her voice. “Come out, I wanna see what it looks like.”
“No way,” Paige stated adamantly, “I’m changing.”
A/N: Set before Artie’s accident and before Quinn’s Lucy Caboosey stage. It’s in my head that she’s a natural blonde, and that it only grew darker with age / puberty.
Dedicated to one of my besties, Sky. Although we’ve only met this past year, she’s become one of my closest friends, and we both share an amazing love of Quartie. You’re such a hard worker, so I hope this will bring a little light to the end of a long day. I feel so lucky to have you in my life, and I love you girlie. My batter.
I Can be Your Hero
Eyes were fixated on her; the little blonde girl whom was just a year older and lived right down the road. There she was on her purple bicycle, wavy ponytail of gold blowing through the breeze as she passed by. Her name was Lucy, that much he knew. She would ride by that same time every afternoon, after getting home from pre-school. Despite the age difference, they were grouped in the same class. Sometimes she sat near him at lunch, but never as close as he wanted. All of the other six-year-old boys insisted that girls were gross and had cooties. But not Artie— at least, not this girl. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. She was like a living Barbie doll, only bigger than his little sister’s toy ones.
Artie noticed that she rode her bike by herself; a feat he hadn’t yet been able to tackle. He hated the training wheels on his own, so most of the time he relied on foot. His parents took the time to teach him, but Artie would grow frustrated and run off to play something else. Lucy though, her parents weren’t around that often to supervise her, it seemed - he thought she was really brave, but it also worried Artie. He seemed to be a natural protector, and was always afraid that one day she might fall.
Caaarrreee! This is sooo beautifully cute! :’D I can’t stop smiling so yes, this definitely brought me some light - as you can always provide! Thank you so much. I love you too, my butter! I’m so insanely happy right now. <3
Safer in the Long Run - missing scene from Duets
Description: After rolling away from Brittany in the hallway, Artie runs into Quinn - literally.
Notes: I just wrote this in the last hour and I think it could be longer and more descriptive but I don’t have time to do it more justice. Regardless, it is now canon in my mind that this happened!
As he rolled down the hall away from Brittany, Artie couldn’t stop thinking about what a fool he’d been.
To sleep with someone he didn’t love and didn’t even like. Someone he barely knew and who thought he had been a robot. And apparently someone who would sleep with just about anyone.
He always thought his first time would be special, not something that he would forever regret. Not with a girl who was forgettable.
So lost was he in his thoughts that as he came around the corner, that he didn’t notice a body standing directly in his path. Head down, eyes focused on his knees, he crashed into her, and she went down, onto his lap. Surprised, Artie let out an “oof” then lifted his gaze to make eye contact with -
“Quinn? I’m so sorry.”
Missing scene between Big Brother and Goodbye that would explain the apparent in-loveness in Goodbye- atthestarsagain gave me the inspiration for this, so thanks again, hon!
Disclaimer: I still don’t own Glee.
Day 1- Missing Scene Quartie
Quinn sat in the girls’ bathroom, touching up her makeup. Prom was almost over, and people still wanted to take pictures with her. She’d felt liberated after giving her crown to Rachel, though it stung a little more than she’d thought it would. After standing onstage, the entire school was up in arms about her, gushing about her bravery. All she’d wanted to do was show how strong she was, and how strong she’d always be…not to be seen as this poster child for overcoming disability.
The music from the gymnasium flooded the bathroom when the door opened, and Quinn could feel a body lingering behind her. “…The other sinks work.” she said, trying not to sound too annoyed. When she didn’t hear an answer, Quinn turned. At first she looked up, as she had been for the past few months, but then she realized that this person was just at her height.
“Artie, this is the girls’ bathroom.” Quinn choked out. The two really hadn’t spoken much since the skate park debacle. And now here she was, proving she had been right about not being in a chair forever. The look on Artie’s face was indifferent, and he didn’t move. His sapphire blue eyes peered at her, gazing past her eyes, into her soul.
Never Can Say Goodbye
The train had just taken off from the station; all of New Directions lined up to wave their goodbyes to Rachel as the train pulled out. Finn chased it down as best he could; a romantic (albeit cheesy) gesture. Artie couldn’t help but smile at the sight though. For a long time, he wasn’t sure about Rachel and Finn— their entire relationship had seemed like a mess. However, here Finn was, letting her go to live her dream without him, and Artie admired it. He understood what it felt like to let something go. Maybe his circumstances had been for different reasons, but still. He never held a grudge over all the heartbreaks— the cruel nicknames and whispers. He always showed that his heart was gold and tried his best to help others, regardless of their differences.
The group had begun to dissipate now that Rachel was on her way to New York. Mike and Tina lingered; fingers threaded together as they began discussions with Sam and Mercedes - about what, he didn’t know. Apparently something humerus, considering how much the group was laughing; Sam was probably doing another impression. Pinkies linked, Santana and Brittany headed back out to their car— he’d overheard talk of Brittany begging to go see the pandas at the zoo for the day, so he assumed that’s where they were headed. Kurt and Blaine were comforting Finn and already mourning the loss of their shining starlet. The rest, he wasn’t sure where they had taken off to, but that left only two: he and Quinn.
Artie wasn’t complaining.
“Are you excited about Yale?” he asked, breaking the strange but not uncomfortable silence between them. Quinn had always been his favorite, despite their differences; Artie felt they actually had more similarities than one might imagine. And she was flawless. At least, in his eyes.
“I’m so excited Artie. I’ll finally be out of Lima— away from the drama and everything this place has done to me,” she answered, hazel eyes burning brightly with eagerness. Expressive blue stared up at her, listening intently and glowing with pride. As much as he was going to miss Quinn— miss sitting next to her in glee and hearing her soft, husky singing voice melt his heart… he was happy for her. Proud that she had managed to muddle through all the cap she’d been dealt, and finally on her way to better things.
“I admire you, Quinn,” he said softly, flashing one of his boyishly charming smiles - not faltering in the least. “You’ve been through so much and look at you now. I just… I’m proud of you, Q.” Artie glanced down for a moment, adjusting his glasses and internally scolding himself not to shed a tear. Instead, she did - golden eyes glistening as she watched the boy whom been through just as much as she had, pouring admiration for her. A delicate smile lit up her features, and Quinn gingerly stopped a tear from cascading down her cheek.
“That means so much, coming from you, Artie. You see, I think of you as the strongest person I know. Hearing you say that about me, makes me feel like I did something right.” Quinn’s words had Artie’s heart fluttering; for a moment, he felt like he meant so much more to the blonde than ever thought imaginable. Then, he remembered he’d actually brought a small token— a graduation gift for her. Maybe they hadn’t grown close until the end of the school year neared, but they were… close - that is; which is all that mattered.
“Thanks, Quinn,” he murmured, fingers fishing in the pocket of khakis for a small box. Upon finding it, Artie gently tugged her hand forward, placing it in her palm. Raising an eyebrow, the blonde proceeded to pry it open, beaming as she saw its contents. Inside lay a charm bracelet with a sole charm— a crown. “I just… I heard what you did for Rachel. And Quinn… I know you didn’t always go about things right, but you know that too, and you fixed them. You deserve a crown; you are a queen. So… take this with you to Yale and remember me? Consider it a— a parting gift.” Artie was smiling again, his eyes widening as Quinn leaned in closer to him.
“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she whispered, leaning in to ghost supple lips over Artie’s now blushing cheek, lingering. As Quinn pulled back, her smile softened, eyes locking with his for a moment. “I’m sorry, my gift for you is at home— I was hoping to bring it by sometime before I leave,” she explained, a look of worry crossing her features.
“Quinn. That right there, was the best gift I could receive,” Artie replied on a wry smirk, index finger lifting to point at his cheek - now covered in a light sheen of pink gloss.
Jokingly, but with a small ounce of hope shining through just within his chuckle, Artie offered: “Wait for me at Yale?”
This time Quinn was the one blushing; her head shook playfully as she grinned, a hand taking Artie’s and giving it a light squeeze. “You know it, Abrams. I’ll see you next year.”
Quartie Week - Take Two, Day 1: Missing Scene Quartie —By Carrie
Status: On going
Swooping in to kiss Rachel, Santana pulled back and licked her lips. “Cherry?” she cocked her head, “You been kissing Mike?”
Rachel smirked up at her. “Well, it’s better than last week’s puckleberry, hmm?”
Frowning, Santana folded her arm around Rachel’s shoulders. “Damn right. Puck needs’ta learn you’re off-limits. So why did Mike kiss you? Do I need to kick his ass?”
“He said he wanted to know if I tasted like Pez.” Grinning, Rachel snuggled in.
Santana rolled her eyes. “And did you?”
Pulling her down, Rachel kissed her securely. “What do you think?”
“Mmm… I think we should do some more research…”
Later, Rachel shook her head, smiling despite herself into Santana’s neck. “You know, you guys have way too much fun with my surname.”
Santana grinned and surged up to roll Rachel onto her back. “I’m just waiting until they think of Berry Pie. I mean, you and B? Smokin’ hot.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not the jealous type, hmm?” Rachel arched an eyebrow as she slid her arms around Santana’s neck.
“Oh yeah… Not jealous at all…” Nuzzling Rachel’s nose with her own, Santana pulled back. “Tell Mike to keep his mitts to himself afores I have to break every dancin’ bone in his body, kay?”
A wide, amused smile split Rachel’s face. “Okay. Besides, Pez is the only flavor I want on me.” She lowered her voice. “Even if Berry Pie sounds intriguing…”
Santana kissed her. “Shut up.”
Rachel hung up her heavy black peacoat on the hanger casually slipping off her flats to the right of the front door of her up-scale New York apartment. She sighed,
“Another Christmas Eve alone, huh, Barbra?” she huffed, leaning down to pet her cat’s little tawny head.
She moved over to the couch, plopping down lazily, and reaching with all her might to grab the remote without moving. She sighed, she was sadly unsuccessful. She settled for her “misfortune”, laying down on a red throw pillow. She curled her feet up at the end of the couch, thinking over her day, planning ahead for the next one.
She licked her suddenly dry lips before lifting herself up to the kitchen. She glanced over at the framed pictures clinging to the beige walls. A picture of a beautiful Latina woman disrupts a light blue sky behind her. Rachel grows a bittersweet smile, admiring the picture. She looks over at the next picture, a picture of herself and the Latina girl from the previous picture playfully fighting in a kitchen over a bowl of what looks like cookie dough. A dewy tear slips down the diva’s cheek. Her teeth tug at her bottom lip, words of the past tugging at her throat. She clears her throat, wiping a tear graciously off the underside of her chin. She zipped past the hall into the kitchen. She yanked open the fridge, navigating through the mess of organic vegan foods. She grabbed an apple biting into it vigorously, grabbing a magazine off the kitchen counter.
A rap on the door breaks through her steady rhythm of eating her apple and reading an article about Idina Menzel. She looks curiously at the door from her seat on her bar stool. She lifts herself off her seat and walks over to the door slowly. She raised herself on her tippy-toes and looked through the peep-hole. A strong-jawed man in a uniform waited with a quiet pose at her door. She raised her thick brown brow and opened the door consciously.
“Mrs. Lopez-Berry?” The man bellowed.
“Uhm… yes, hello. That’s me.” She said with an uneasy tone.
“Mrs. Lopez-Berry, I’m so sorry.” He said lifting his cap off his head, revealing a shiny bald head. Rachel’s eyebrow lowered itself from its pedestal, her look softened, and her eyes glazed over.
“Your wife, Santana Maria Lopez-Berry, has fallen in battle.” He said promptly looking down at his feet.
“Thank you…” She said quietly, reading his name tag before finishing. “Colonel Morris.”
He nodded grimly, offering his hand for a handshake. Rachel glanced at his hand and shook it weakly. She closed the door, the second tear of the night slipping down her face. She fell to her knees on the ground, sobbing heavily.
“Santana!” She screamed through depressed tears. She curled her fingers through her brunette locks, whirling around on the floor.
Status: Complete (5 chapters)