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ellieslaces · 2 days

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KISSING LESSONS.

featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader

synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.

content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)

notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.

word count: 3.13k

chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)

now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus

Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.

It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.

It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.

PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.

It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.

Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.

You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.

You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.

Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.

You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.

As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.

“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.

Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.

You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.

“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.

Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.

“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.

“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.

Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.

“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.

“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.

“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.

Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.

Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.

You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?

Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.

A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.

She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”

Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.

“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.

“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.

“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.

“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.

Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.

The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.

So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.

It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.

To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.

It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.

“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”

Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.

Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.

It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.

“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.

“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.

It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”

Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”

There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”

“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?

“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.

“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.

You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.

Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.

“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.

“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.

A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.

“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”

“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.

The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.

So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.

This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.

“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.

It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.

“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.

“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.

You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.

Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”

You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”

“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.

You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.

2023 ©️ellieslaces please do not repost, rewrite, translate, or submit my work to AI or any other platform. please support your creators by reblogging, liking, and following!

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#Hazel Callahan #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan drabble #hazel bottoms #hazel #Hazel Callahan bottoms #hazel callahan bottoms 2023 #bottoms 2023 #lesbians #wlw post #cishet men dni

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poeticblkgiirl · 2 years

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Brittany S. Hall aka “Hot Wings”, Real Chance of Love, 2009

#blackgirlbeauty #black girl aesthetic #black girl art #early 2000s #2000sblackgirls #2000s aesthetic #2000s style #2000s nostalgia

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themaladpativedaydreamer · 1 year

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Happy Valentine's Day

Pairing: Male Reader x Sam Evans Request: i need more of sam x m!reader😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️ can i request a fluff to smut story, where this take place on valentines week at mckinley where sam takes off m!reader to the auditorium and had a surprise then after that they had s*x one on the empty classrooms :))

Genre: Fluff + Smut (18+) A/N: Why did this take the whole day to write😭? Enjoy my darlings!

Once again, Valentine’s week sent McKinley High into a love filled frenzy as the halls were decorated with paper red hearts and cupid art. Y/n was excited to be spending his Valentine’s with Sam, he and the blonde-haired boy had gotten together months ago, and this was their first Valentine’s together. He knew that he wanted this Valentine’s to be special so he enlisted the help of his friends.

“I need your help.” Y/n confessed to Santana and Brittany, pulling the two Cheerios out of their conversation. With the help of the Cheerios, February 14th had rolled around, and Sam’s gift was ready. Sam now found himself in the auditorium after school searching for Y/n, until noticing his boyfriend on the stage. “This is the first time we’re spending Valentine’s together, and I wanted to make it extra special.” Y/n announced before going behind the curtains.

Greedy – Ariana Grande (Performed by Y/n with the Cheerios) (or insert whatever song you want)

The performance came to an end as Sam stood up clapping and cheering for his boyfriend before moving onto the stage towards him and wrapping his arms around Y/n’s waist, pulling him close and giving him a kiss causing the Cheerios to whistle at the couple. “Thank you, I loved it. Now I need to show you, your surprise.” Sam said as he stretched his hand out towards Santana who handed him keys. “Everything’s ready for you, Trouty Mouth.” She said, giving Y/n a wink causing him to become confused.

Sam led Y/n to Mr. Shue’s classroom which had been decorated with rose petals on the floor and red candles giving the room light. “Sam, this is amazing.” Y/n admired, noticing the picnic basket before turning around and giving his boyfriend a kiss. The kiss continued as Sam’s hands moved down Y/n’s waist to his ass, giving him the message to jump to which Y/n did, wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist before being placed on a desk.

“Are we about to have sex on Mr. Shue’s desk? And won’t the food get cold?” Y/n moaned, as his boyfriend continued kissing his neck. “He’s not gonna know and I’m craving something else right now.” Sam answered quickly, as he removed his shirt and Y/n’s. Y/n laid back on the desk as Sam’s figure hovered over him and began kissing and lightly biting down his body. The classroom contained Y/n’s moans as he felt Sam’s kisses pepper over his nipples and stomach.

Sam had the back of his waist pressed against the desk as Y/n kissed down the blonde-haired boy’s body, lightly massaging his abs before kneeling in front of the buttons of Sam’s jeans. Soon Sam’s jeans sat at his ankles as Y/n gave Sam’s hard cock kisses and strokes through his briefs. “Stop teasing me, Y/n.” Sam breathed, gripping the desk slightly. Y/n gently removed the briefs grabbing his boyfriend’s member, slowly stroking it.

Sam had his back arched as his hand rested on the back of Y/n’s head as Y/n’s mouth rested around Sam’s cock, moving back and forth. Y/n’s tongue massaged around his boyfriend’s member and passed his slit eliciting a moan from the blonde-hair boy causing him to push Y/n’s head feeling his cock go deeper in Y/n’s mouth. Y/n took as much of Sam as he could before coming up for air and moving to his boyfriend’s balls, kissing and licking them.

Sam lifted Y/n and brought him into a kiss while undoing Y/n’s pants and pulling them down with his underwear. Y/n was bent over Mr. Shue’s desk while Sam's tongue danced around Y/n’s entrance. Y/n moaned as he felt a finger enter him and a mouth take his cock. Sam pushed another finger into Y/n causing him to shift, while alternating between sucking Y/n’s cock or giving it kisses.

Sam pulled out a condom from his pants pocket and unwrapped it before placing it over his hard member. He pressed the tip of his cock at Y/n’s entrance, “Please Sam.” Y/n softly moaned, causing Sam to push the rest of his cock inside Y/n eliciting a moan from both. Y/n’s hole clinched around Sam’s cock as the blonde slowly rocked his hips back and forth as he brought Y/n’s back to his chest and kiss him while thrusting his cock into him.

Sam pulled out of Y/n and positioned him on his back on the desk, the blonde lifted his boyfriend’s legs on to his shoulder and pushed his cock back into Y/n’s hole. “You feel so good, Y/n.” Sam praised as he started to thrust in and out of Y/n causing the boy to moan.

Sam sat on the desk chair and Y/n slowly brought himself down on his boyfriend’s cock until he took all of him, feeling the hard cock stretch him and the tip of the cock touch near his spot. Y/n gyrated his hips in a circular motion while lifting himself up and down on the hard member causing Sam to throw his head back as his hands caressed Y/n’s skin. Y/n moaned as he felt Sam’s cock hit his spot and began to ride his boyfriend faster arching his back. Sam was in bliss as he kissed Y/n and wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking it.

Y/n felt his cock throb edging closer to his climax, “Faster Sam, I’m so close.” Y/n panted as Sam started to thrust faster upward into Y/n, hitting his spot again and again. Y/n stroked his cock to the speed of Sam’s thrusts until he came over his chest, panting. Sam stopped his thrusts allow Y/n to climb off his lap and kneel in front of his cock, Y/n removed the condom on Sam’s throbbing member and placed the member in his mouth. Y/n sucked Sam’s cock urging him closer to his climax, “Fuck, Y/n!” the blonde moaned, as he released his load in his boyfriend’s mouth.

Y/n took most Sam’s warm, white release before standing up to give Sam a kiss. “I taste delicious if I do say so myself.” Sam modestly stated, causing Y/n to laugh a bit.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sam. I love you.” “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/n. I love you too.”

#Sam evans x male reader #glee x male reader #glee imagines #x male reader #Sam evans imagines

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pwlanier · 1 month

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Gritsenko Nikolai Nikolaevich (1856–1900). Harbor in Saint-Nazaire. Brittany. Landing of troops. Etude.

Late 1880s.

Wood, oil.

On the back there is an inscription: Harbor in S. Nazar. Landing of troops. Etude N.N. Gritsenko № 135 according to the catalog of the posthumous exhibition in Pererburg in December 1902 in the halls of the Isle of the Promotion of Artists.

In an old frame.

Expert opinion of the MA GTG - 3826 of the State Tretyakov Gallery № K 1635 /16 of 18.06.2001. G.S. Churak, L.I. Gladkova.

Gritsenko Nikolai Nikolaevich (1856-1900) - Russian marine painter and landscape painter. He graduated from the Kronstadt Technical School of the Maritime Department, after which he sailed on the military ships Cruiser, Vladimir Monomakh and Strelok. In 1885, he became a free-coming student at the IAH and began to study under the guidance of Professor L.F. Lagorio. In 1887, he was sent at the state expense to Paris to Professor A.P. Bogolyubov, at the same time visited the workshop of F. Cormon. He took part in the journey to the East of Tsarevich Nicholas in 1890-1891, joining the retinue of his heir in Trieste. In 1894, he left service in the Navy and was appointed an artist of the Maritime Ministry. He painted many paintings and watercolors depicting views of the sea, harbors and various areas of European Russia and Siberia. An example of Gritsenko's works can be the painting "Night in the Pacific Ocean" located in the State Russian Museum

Kabinet

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no-one-fuck-a-man · 1 year

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Berry Blues

Season Two

Part Thirteen - (Comeback) New Trends and Traumatised Attraction

Quinn Fabray x Reader

Summary: The beginning of the end.

Word Count: 5,864

WARNINGS: Bieber shit..., the reader having their foot in their mouth, just the typical stuff.

-----

It was that time again.

The time for violence.

Pretty much the thing you did every Spanish lesson because your teacher sucked so bad at it that it was more productive for you to do this than to actually try and learn anything.

But this time, the boys had a jump on you.

Mike and yourself were under-armed in this battle, positions at the front of the class radiating your weakness, giving Finn and Puck the advantage of your blindspot thanks to your turned backs. So when your teacher wasn't looking, you were being pelted with balled-up paper from the table behind and over.

"Regresar."

You gruffed to yourself when the man turned around, halting your and Mike's revenge strike.

"Who knows what that means?"

Leaning in close to the dancer, you whispered, "I'm gonna throw my shoe."

"No, don't. If a teacher spots you tackling them for it back, you'll be suspended again."

You hummed discouragingly, not liking his words, no matter how much you knew them to be true. All the while glaring at the two boys who performed their assault, daggers practically shooting from your eyes when they waved over to you smugly.

"Can I please throw my shoes at them?"

"No."

"To come back."

Your glare soon turned on your teacher when he took the only ammunition you and the boy had against your enemies in the class.

Everything was against you in today's warfare.

With a sigh, you slumped back into the hard plastic of your chair, sounding out the boring droll of the Spanish teacher's voice as he went on and on about things he didn't know nor could comprehend.

That was until the school's guidance counsellor barged into the room in a hurry with a worry-stricken face.

"-"come back". Now, if we're gonna put it-"

"Will. It's an emergency."

With a quick look to the class, Mr Schuester rushed from the room, following the ginger woman through the halls.

Sharing a look with Mike, then the two boys sat at the table behind you, jutting your thumb out towards the door, the fear of you curious as to what was happening, hoping it had nothing to do with any of your friends.

"Uh..." Reaching forward, you gripped the edge of your table as you shouted through the open door, hoping your voice would reach your panicking teachers, "Can we go now, or are you coming back?!"

You waited a few moments for a reply but got nothing in return.

With a shrug, you grabbed your work and moved to exit the room, the rest of the class following in your footsteps.

You just hoped that this wouldn't lead to yet another crazy week, that you were starting to grow, oh so used to.

To your absolute surprise, you were proven wrong by one Brittany S. Peirce... and also your sister... mainly your sister. She was, after all, the mastermind behind the whole plot.

"Hey, Brittany. We need to talk."

"Oh, what the hell are you wearing?" you asked, amused, walking on the opposite side of the girl, flanked by your sister, upon the school's balcony walk away. The same one you had been cornered on by Santana and Quinn just last year. Smiling down at the girl's covered arms.

"Why are my leg warmers on your arms?"

Pointing over to Rachel, you stated more so than asked, "Oh, you did this to her?"

"I got cold," Brittany stated as though it were obvious.

"What-? No- We had a deal," Rachel whined, "Okay, as I explained, I am in the midst of a career resurgence, okay? I am done with boys. And I am concentrating fully on my career now."

"You have a job?"

"My career as the performer and a star," she explained. Which lead to your sarcasm-filled reply as you nodded along.

"Right."

"But the only way to make a complete comeback is to dominate popular discussion. Maybe launch a trend or two. I give you half of my allowance, so you could take a signature look of mine and make it popular."

"You know, if this whole singing, performing thing doesn't work out for you, you should go into PR."

"Why wouldn't it work out for me?" Rachel snapped, ready to go on the defensive.

You give a shrug. "No reason. Just everyone should have a backup."

"Well, I don't. I don't need one, nor do I want one."

Rolling your eyes at your sister's reply as she brushed her hair over her shoulder, Brittany took the chance to speak to the shorter Berry.

"Then we decided that leg warmers were more likely to catch on than reindeer sweaters."

"Yes, precisely," Rachel stressed, "But it won't work if you insist on wearing them incorrectly."

"I didn't realise that there were rules."

"Of course, there are rules." She rushed to round the tall blonde, stopping in front of her. "They're leg warmers."

"Well, can I wear them that way tomorrow?" Brittany asked, "I wore a tank top today because I thought it was summer, and no one ever taught me how to read a calendar."

You knew what you were doing this weekend.

Santana.

And also teaching Brittany how to read -and use- a calendar.

"Fine. Fine," your sister said frustratedly, throwing up her hands, "A-And when people ask you who gave you the inspiration for your new accessory, you're gonna say, "I'm just copying-"...

"I'm just copying Rachel Berry."

"Fantastic."

You hung back as Rachel walked off, shrugging off the letterman jacket you were actually wearing for once thanks to the cold weather, draping it over Brittany's shoulders, conscious of the wolf tank top she wore, pulling out the strings of her blue winter hat from underneath.

"There. That should keep you warm."

"Thanks, Y/N/N."

"No problem, Britt," you replied, jogging up to your sister. "She's a fashion icon," you referenced the blonde good-naturedly, making Rachel scoff and roll her eyes dramatically.

---

At the Glee Club lesson that same day, your team was delivered some horrible news.

"This cannot be happening."

"No, this seems like a terrible idea," Artie came off of his ex-girlfriend's complaint.

Mr Schuester rose his hands, stopping any further words of outcry.

"Guys. It's not up for discussion. Okay? Now, it's no secret that Coach Sylvester has taken her licks."

"I mean, just wanky."

You gave a single obnoxious laugh at Santana's words, while the coach threw the girl a glare.

Ignoring her words, Mr Schuester continued, "And I believe she could use a little sympathy from us."

"Sympathy? From us?" Mercedes repeated sceptically, "Uh-Uh."

"Yeah, all she's ever done is make out lives miserable," Quinn agreed.

"She got exactly what she deserved."

Agitated, the woman finally spoke up, "You're lucky I left my blowgun at home, airbags, 'cause I got a clear shot of your nonnies."

Quinn couldn't deal with it. She felt like her jealousy was going to eat her alive.

First, Brittany walks into the lesson all smiley, wearing a jacket that she could just tell was yours. Not the girl's boyfriend or from any other member of the football team. Yours. When or why you gave it to her, she didn't know. But she didn't like it one bit.

And now, after Sue's threat, you moved the binder that sat upon your lap over the girl's chest from your position behind her, beside Mike.

Brittany wearing your letterman jacket was one thing.

This was entirely another.

Anything you did with Santana would send lightning bolds of green jealousy through her body, a fire warming her from her chest to the very bottom of her stomach. It was only made worse by her own reminders that she had no right to be jealous. You would be together if she weren't so deep in the closet and felt like there was no escape, instead of you and Santana having... whatever the hell it was between the two of you.

The thing Quinn was angry at the most was her own fear.

Santana reached up, hands brushing yours to hold the binder against her chest, shooting you a smile over her shoulder.

'Nope', Quinn thought, changing her mind at that instant, 'She was definitely angriest at Santana'

"Guys," Mr Schue said placatingly, "Coach Sylvester has had her recent setbacks, but she is a proven champion. Now, we could do worse than to have that kind of a winning record in our midst."

"Let me break it down for you. I am no longer a threat to you people, alright? I'm just hoping your singing and dancing around will pull me out of my doldrums and give me a reason to live. Is that too much to ask?"

"Have you tried therapy?" you asked as your club remained silent, "Cause if you really don't want to live, it seems you might need it."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." The woman shook her head.

"Guys, it's settled. Sue's gonna be with us for the week."

Yep... this sure was shaping up to be a crazy week.

"Now, I received an envelope in the mail today." Weak 'whoops' filled the room as the teacher chuckled, and the coach sarcastically shook her head from side to side with widened eyes, "We know that we're facing Kurt and the Warblers at Regionals."

"Sweet porcelain." You snorted lightly at Sue's words.

"And it looks like this year we face Aural Intensity again."

"They cleaned our clock last year," Mercedes said with her head thrown back.

"Who were they again?" you asked with a scrunched-up face, "I kinda only remember the baby part of that day."

"They're the ones who pandered to the judges," Mike informed.

"Oh, the Religious ones." You nodded in understanding. "But I think the fact that Sue was one of the judges had something to do with us losing that." You jutted your thumb towards her.

"Y/N... enough," Mr Schue scolded you slowly.

Raising your palms, you replied, "Just stating the facts."

"Seems like the governing board has assigned a theme to this year's Regionals, and part of our score will be based upon how well we interpret it. This year's theme: Anthem." He showed the open letter as if any of you could read that writing from so far away. "Now, who can tell us what an anthem is?"

Predictably, your sister's hand shot high up into the air. But Brittany just spoke with a shrug.

"The bottom of an ant's pants."

"So close. So close," Mr Shue said, "But no."

"But, technically, she's right, though," you literally pointed out, "Just not in the way you were asking."

Taking a moment, the teacher decided to blink your statement away, answering his own question and making your sister drop her arm in disappointment.

"Anyway, an anthem is an epic song filled with a-A groundswell of emotion that somehow seems bigger than itself, even bigger than the person performing it."

"So, anything Freddie Mercury has ever sung? Got it."

Before he could reply, Sam had his hand in the air now.

"Mr Schue."

"Oh, hey, Sam. I didn't even notice your new haircut," the director smiled as the boy walked closer, silently asking for the class' attention.

"Yeah, I've been working on a new image to go with my new one-man band. 'The Justin Bieber Experience'."

"You've got to be kidding me," Quinn said over the quiet groans of the club.

"Dude, tell me you're joking," you begged from the back of the choir room, with your arms folded across your chest.

"Dude, that haircut makes your mouth look even bigger," Puckerman said, almost as if he were in a trance.

"Let her speak." Sue jutted out a plam to quiet the boy as the club laughed at the delinquent's words.

"Uh, Sue... you know that Sam's a guy, right?"

"Laugh all you want, but that kid's an epic talent."

"The kid's epic annoying," you stated, "And he's like thirteen. Don't you think it's weird to make a one-man band looking like him?"

"He's actually fifteen."

You raised your hands. "Like that makes it any better."

"Y/N criticism aside, there's a number I've been working on that I've been wantin' to show off." Turning to Mr Schue, he continued, "I think it qualifies as an anthem-"

"I can already tell you it doesn't!"

"Because, it's just hugely emotional and sums up our generation."

You highly doubted that. And your thought shone on your face, by the way it was scrunched up, regarding the boy as if he had a screw loose.

However, Mr Schue seemed all for it. Slapping him lightly with the back of his hand, he gave the boy the get-go, "Let's hear it, buddy."

"Let's not, please," you mumbled to yourself, sinking lower into your chair. Mike hummed along with you, as you watched the boy clap and move over to his guitar.

As soon as that first strum sounded, showing the song that had been playing everywhere recently. You groaned lightly, placing your head in your hand, hoping that would help you get through the performance.

Throughout the whole thing, you were suffering along with the guys, all the while the girls easily showed their love for it.

Once it was over and the girls cheered, you came to one conclusion.

This was it.

This was the beginning.

The downfall of Glee.

"I gotta get that girl on my Cheerios."

... that lightened your mood a tad.

---

Single children would never understand the pure joy people with siblings got when they brought pure chaps to the other's lives, thriving with the torture they dished out just to annoy them.

You were lucky enough to be one of those people.

Which is what you were intent on doing as you slid up behind your sister as she jotted onto her 'to-do list' stuck to the door of her locker.

Rachel jumped when she heard you clear your throat behind her in a few coughs before her shoulders slumped, knowing exactly what you were about to do.

"'Celine Dion's birthday'," you read from her totally indulgent bucket list/to-do list, "You already got your invite? Mine must be lost in the mail. 'Friend request Babra Streisand again'. She hasn't accepted the past three times, Rach. Take the hint."

The more you said, the more agitated she got.

"Are you quite done?"

"Not yet. 'Ann Margret in concert', not going with you to that. 'AVATAR on ice audition'... not even gonna comment on that one. 'Teach Tidkers at the JCC'. The hell is the JCC?"

Just as your sister turned to stubbornly reply to your question, her face fell, when she spotted the people wandering the hall.

"What?"

"Oh, no."

"'Oh, no' what?" you asked, beginning to worry now.

"Oh, no."

"What?" Finally, you turned to follow what Rachel was looking at, only to find a mass of teenage girls wearing leg warmers on their arms. "Oh... wow, the trends really pick up quick, huh?"

"No, way. Y/N, this is terrible!"

"For you, it is." You shrugged. "You just wasted half of your allowance."

Thinking she was angered by your words as she gripped your arm and began dragging you down the hall, you yelped at the contact, "Okay, I'm sorry." Then you realized what was truly happening, spotting Tina and Brittany walking up ahead, "Oh. Okay."

"You're a hero. You should win some kind of award."

"Hey, girls," you smiled at the two when Rachel gained Brittany's attention, pulling the tall blonde to face her, her smile fake, before she jumped into her confrontation.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel. It just sort of caught on."

"I see that," she snapped, making you move out of the way of her flailing arms, "Okay? That is not what we agreed upon. I want my allowance back right now."

"It's already gone," Brittany stated, "My uncle lost his job, and his goat was going hungry, so I spent it on food for the goat. I mean, sort of. The goat just ate the money."

Nodding, you said, "Goats will like that. They can eat anything."

Rachel waved her hands around, trying to breathe her frustrations away. "Okay. The only way to proceed is for you to come to school dressed exactly like me."

Brittany evaluated what the girl was wearing. "What is that look called?"

"Sexy schoolgirl librarian chic."

"Stereotypical porn virgin," you corrected, gaining a jab in the arm for your troubles, "Ah! Abusive!"

Excitedly, your sister reached for the blonde, pulling her closer as she spoke, "Right, you'd better get a move on, okay? Kids "R" Us closes at 6PM sharp."

"You still shop at Kids "R" Us?" you regarded disbelievingly.

"They're the only place that has my perfect size." Rachel shrugged, patting Brittany on her bare upper arms, she continued, in a whisper, "Go, Brittany." Then she was off, strutting down the hall.

"Godspeed, Brittany," you joked, saluting the girl.

"Y/N!" came a yell from down the hall.

"All right, I'm coming! Don't get your Kids "R" Us panties in a twist."

---

You didn't know what to expect during the next Glee Club meeting.

But it sure as hell wasn't this.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," you uttered, watching as Sam lead the march of the Bieber look-alike train.

"Sweet Jesus," Mercedes spoke from the back of the class, just as done with the boys as you were, "Who brought tickets to 'Crazy Town'?"

"I think crazy town would be better than this. No, this has got to be a fuckin' joke-" Then with a flick of his hair, your jaw dropped, and you pointed his way. "Puckerman has hair! Hair! He has hair! Is that a tupé of some shit?!"

"Y/N, language," Mr Schue scolded you.

"Oh, you can't blame me for this, Mr Schue. Look at them!"

Rolling his eyes at you, he carried on, "All right, looks like the guys here are ready to uh give us their anthem."

"Hey, everybody," Sam greeted, "We are the new and improved 'The Justin Bieber Experience'."

"Mikey, why?" you asked, arms out to your Bieberfied friend, only receiving a hopeless shrug in return.

"And we think this song is an anthem because everything Bieber does is epic."

"Truth." Artie raised his hands. All the while, you cupped yours around your mouth unnecessarily.

"You're looking up to a fifteen-year-old boy who is annoying as hell." Turning to the girls, you added, "And you're getting all hot and bothered over guys dressed as said fifteen-year-old. Check yourself!"

"Actually, Y/N, he recently turned sixteen."

"Di you celebrate it?" you sassed the creator of the band, "Anyway, it's still screwed- Ow! Stop pinching me!" you yelped, pulling your arm away from Santana's fingers, "You can't tell me that you're really into this."

The Latina rolled her eyes at you as you gestured to the group in the middle of the room while Sam took this as his opportune moment to pull everything back on track.

"Anyway, this song, like all the songs I sing, is for my girlfriend, Quinn."

"Hold on, before you start singing," you stopped them, raising your phone, "Hey, Puck?"

The boy hummed, looking your way, suddenly hearing the noise of an image being taken.

"Thank you," you said, getting exactly what you wanted, pulling your phone into your lap, looking at the picture on the screen.

But did you love having things to torment your friends, and not so friends, with.

After being ushered into the auditorium and forced to watch the group Bieber performance, you wondered if there would be songs sung by any other artist this week.

From your seat beside Finn, legs folded across the back of the chair in front of you, behind the group of cheering girls, you flopped your head back, moving to mutter to the boy, pointing towards the stage.

"For the love of God. Please, please, don't become like that."

"No worries here."

"Thank God," you breathed out, relieved.

"Um, I actually can't do Friday." You squinted up at Quinn as she spoke down to your friend, throwing you an almost awkward, bashful smile. Before she left, heading in the direction of backstage to meet her boyfriend there.

"What's Friday?"

Finn looked frightened at your question, instantly letting you know it wasn't good. Stumbling over his words, the boy said, "I- Uh... we were just going to hang out."

Glaring at the boy, you pressed, "Hang out?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, playing with his hands in his lap, unable to look you in the eyes.

Sighing through your nose and shaking your head, you said, "Finn, please tell me you're not doing the thing I asked you not to."

"I, uh- I gotta go. A lot of... math homework."

"Finn," you called after the boys exiting form, "Finn!" Slumping back into your seat, you huffed, "Fantastic. That Goddamn idiot."

At least you had that pic of Puckerman with Bieber hair to make you feel better.

That would never not bring a smile to your face.

---

You were stunned in your place when you walked into the choir room the next day. Because, sitting at the front of the class was Brittany, decked out in your sister's style of clothing.

"Why do you look cute in that?" you asked the blonde confused, questioning everything about yourself, never once thinking that you would find the whole 'stereotypical porn virgin' look attractive. But now that you think of it, it was just your sister that was the issue.

Walking around your still form, Quinn glared at you as she made her way to her seat behind Finn, not liking the way you were still looking at Brittany with shocked attraction. Jealousy flowed through her yet again. You were driving her crazy, and you didn't even know it.

With a flick of his hair, your attention was brought over to Finn Hudson, and your confused look dropped into one of horror. There he sat, with his hair across his forehead, a hoodie on, along with a long dangling chain with a dog tag on the end.

You were pissed.

"-I was working on my anthem look," his sentence finished with a yell when he was suddenly lifted a few inches from his chair, all thanks to your grip upon his maroon hoodie, looking into your angered eyes with nothing but fear.

"You said that you weren't gonna do this, Finn," your voice wavered, like one would before they were gonna snap and start breaking things... like bones, "You were my last hope. My comrade in arms. Why are you dressed like an annoying Freshman, Finn?"

Reaching over, the girl sitting beside him tried to pry your fingers from the scared boy's clothing just as your teacher walked in from his office.

"Not now Tina, I'm a bit busy, this is what he deserves."

"Okay, guys and gals. And Sue. I- Y/N, what are you doing?"

"Nothing Mr Schue, carry on with the lesson. I'm just talking some sense into Finn."

"Y/N, come on, let him go," Mr Schuester spoke, not wanting to deal with this right now. With a huff, you dropped the tall boy onto his chair, receiving a pat on the back from your teacher in praise, as he pointed to the other side of the class with the papers in his hand, "Go take a seat."

Miming over to Finn that you were watching him as you walked to an empty chair before throwing your arms into the air and exclaiming, "I'm the only sane one here! And that's shocking."

The teacher clapped his hands together, carrying on with what he had been saying before you had distracted him. "All right! It's the moment we've all been waiting for, our next diva-off. So here they are, sure to give a fantastic anthem. Mercedes and Rachel. Let's give it up!"

You joined the club, clapping along with the team, as Rachel jumped up, pausing in front of Mercedes to speak to everyone.

"After much argument, I finally convinced Mercedes that, in order to do a proper diva-off, it has to come from the Broadway catalogue. Which I think it's safe to say that gives me a home-field advantage, so."

Mercedes gave a mocked pitty groan, "Well, you're about to get beat on your own turf."

"At least it's not Bieber!" you called, shooting a quick glare over at all the boys.

Sick of the interruptions, Rachel snapped over to the band, requesting that they "hit it". And so started the competition.

To say you greatly enjoyed this over any of the Bieber songs that had been performed this week would be an understatement.

"Oh, my God. That was so great!" Mercedes said, meeting your sister halfway, willingly accepting her hug.

"No. Her. What about her?"

"No. Her."

You smiled at the praise they wanted for each other, glad that this didn't end up in petty drama, and instead appreciation.

"Awesome!"

"That was amazing!" you called to the two after your teacher.

However, amongst the joyful club sat one disappointed coach.

"Hey. Where's the hate?"

"Not the point of Glee Club, Sue."

"Well, now, Mr Schue, let's be fair." You turned to look at the coach from your seat beside Santana. "It can be the point of Glee Club. There's a lot of drama here."

---

"Oh, I cannot wait," Rachel gushed to you as you walked through the doors of William McKinley the next morning, "Brittany did exactly as planned, and now everyone should be wearing the same thing, and I will finally be looked at like a fashion icon."

"You know this is a lot for high school, right? But then again, makes total sense for high school."

Your sister gasped when she spotted three of your gathered friends rushing over to them in excitement.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," you muttered to yourself, following after her.

"-She's a genius and an icon."

"Who is?"

"Brittany," Quinn stated, "Who do you think?"

"Oh, God," you whimpered, sliding up next to Rachel, staring at the girls' outfits.

"What's up with you?" Tina asked.

"Why am I into this?" I feel weird for liking it because you're dressed like her." A jab of your thumb at your sister. "But you're not her, but the clothes are the same, and it's fucking with my mind," you answered the girl, as your voice slowly grew into a pain-filled whine.

"Uh, we aren't dressed like Rachel," Santana corrected with a raised hand, "We're dressed like Brittany. I mean, who knew taking off that Cheerios uniform would turn her into a fashion institution."

Your sister shot the three a fake smile, looking about ready to throw a temper tantrum. "Is this a joke?"

"No... that sweater is."

"What?" you scoffed a laugh at Santana's words, unable to believe what was transpiring.

"Who wears a reindeer sweater?"

"Uh, all three of you."

"No. This is a carousel horse." Tina pointed out the image on her sweater.

"Well, you're not wrong." You shrugged, gaining a betrayed scoff from your sister. "But that doesn't negate the fact that it's the same fucking style."

Quinn rolled her eyes at you, obviously thinking that you didn't understand anything about that particular style of fashion. It's not like you saw your sister wearing it pretty much every day since you were kids, or anything.

"Look, Rachel. If you want to know what to wear, just look to Brittany."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Look. She took the look from me, okay?" the shorter Berry explained, "I paid her."

"You're a terrible liar, Rachel," Tina stated, looking at the girl as if she were cruel. Which to the three, they thought she was.

"Oh, no, she's literally telling the truth."

"I would have thought better from you, Y/N," Quinn said, disappointed.

"Excuse me?"

"It's not like you to lie about something like this."

"Listen, I don't care enough about this bullshit to lie about it."

"No, but you care about your sister," Santana pointed out.

"That's very true. But I think you may have forgotten the many times I've called her out. So, yeah, I would say whether she's lying or not about clothes."

"I just can't believe you would take this away from poor Brittany," Quinn spoke down to your sister.

"It's sad. You're just sad," Santana added.

"Do I sound like the teachers from Charlie Brown, or have you all just gone deaf?"

"We heard you," the Latina told, "We're just not listening."

"Gee. Love you guys, too," you sassed slowly before calling after your sister as she stormed down the hall towards Brittany, who was entering the school herself. "Rachel!... yeah, not dealing with that," you muttered, watching her confront the blonde, turning back to the girls, looking down at their outfits, only to whimper again, "Why am I into this?"

You just didn't expect Santana to see through you instantly, bringing on a revelation. "Because you like the idea of corrupting someone, and this outfit portrays someone innocent."

Staring at the girl, blank-faced as you processed her words, you weren't able to notice the glare Quinn shot her way. The blonde knew full well of your and the Latina's "Extracurricular activities" and did not like that she knew that about you.

"I'm not dealing with this either," you stated, turning and walking from the group of girls.

"Bye, Y/N!" Santana called teasingly, gaining a giggle from Tina.

"Fuck you, Santana!" Peering over your shoulder at her. "It's too early in the morning truth like this, thanks for having that weigh no my whole day!"

---

"All right, let's get right down to it!" Your attention was pulled from where you were doodling along the edges of your math homework. Only to find your teacher standing at the front of the choir room, next to Lauren Zizes. "Starting us off and making her New Directions solo debut, Miss Lauren Zizes."

You whooped for the girl, clapping along with your friends.

"Uh, so, what are you gonna sing for us, Lauren?"

"Here's how I see it," she began, "I know I'm the hottest bitch in this joint. If I was a country, my flag would be a big fist giving the rest of the world a finger. And this would be my national anthem."

"Okay," Mr Schue replied awkwardly, moving to take a seat to watch the performance.

"God, I wish more people had your confidence," you told the girl, "Things would be so much more fun."

"Thank you, Y/N. Puckerman, grab your guitar." The boy jumped up, doing as told. "Tina, Brittany, ready?" Good. Awesome. Supercool."

"How freakin' hot is she?" Puckerman asked, as soon as the performance was over, and the wrestler had performatively shoved Tina and Brittany to the floor... at least, you thought it was performative.

Jumping up with the rest of the club, you asked the girl, "Is it too soon to say that I love you? 'Cause that was fuckin' awesome."

The girls really were bringing it back from the boys' sudden Bieber obsession.

And you couldn't e more thankful.

"I'm so glad you stopped dressing like Bieber," you told Mike, as you made your way to the final Glee Club lesson of the week, "I was seriously this close to begging you and offering you a hundred dollars just to look like you again."

The boy laughed, "Can I still get the money?"

"Not a chance- Woah!" you exclaimed, walking into the room, spotting Sam and Santana sitting at the front of the class, with the girl's legs thrown over his lap, brushing some hair from his face. Making it clear as day that they were going out. Pointing them out to Mike, you continued, "What the hell?!"

Guess you weren't going to do Santana this weekend.

"Dude, stop," the boy whispered, tugging at your arm," Quinn looks real sad."

"Huh?" Tearing your eyes from the new couple, you found Quinn's downcast look. You felt bad for her that she had to deal with heartbreak, but still, you knew that she only brought this on herself... but that still didn't stop you from caring for her.

You also felt real bad for Sam.

One person you didn't feel bad for? Finn.

You advised him not to go this route, and yet he did.

From your seat beside your sister, you reached foward, placing a comforting upon Quinn's shoulder, pulling her attention from the two. You gave her a soft nod watching as she swallowed her tears away and returned it sadly.

"All right. I hate to say it, but I think we all owe a big thank you. She may hate us, but she gave us a kick-butt song for Regionals."

As your club clapped, Rachel rose her hand into the air, someone having something to say about this, too.

"Mr Schuester." She stood, not liking having been ignored this time. "I think that our admiration for Coach Sylvester might just be a little premature. While I love 'My Chemical Romance', and I think we all kicked butt on that number, as our team leader and arbiter of all that is good, I- I have to say, that I don't think that that song is good enough for Regionals."

"You did not just say that in front of me."

"I didn't know that you liked 'My Chemical Romance'," Mike said from your other side.

"I have ears, don't I?"

Rachel cleared her throat, bringing the attention back to her. "The Warblers have Kurt and Blane as their like, one-two punch, and Aural Intensity kicked our butt last year."

"Because of pandering," you pointed out.

"That aside, we can't just do any song to beat either of those teams."

"You mean a number where you don't get to sing the entire song," Mercedes said.

"Guys, this isn't about me."

"What do you suggest, Rachel?" Mr Schue asked, wanting to get whatever the hell this was over with.

"We-We need to be bold a-and epic," she stated, "We need to write our own original music for Regionals. We need an undisputable advantage."

"Uh, yeah, no. That's a really bad idea."

Santana groaned at your sister, "Check out dwarf Diane Warren."

"Look. We can't lose Regionals again this year, you guys, okay? You- You have to trust me. I feel really, really strongly about this."

"Listen, Rach, I love you. But you gotta see how insane that idea is," you told her, "Yeah, teenagers are able to write some great music. But the percentages are not that great. We're performers, but we're not songwriters."

"But we could be."

"As you said, we need to win Regionals this year, and original songs are not the way to go."

Not wanting to see a Berry sibling bickering match, the teacher said, "Let's put it to a vote. All those in favour of doing an original song?"

Only your sister's hand shot into the air.

"'Chemical Romance'?"

Mouthing a 'sorry' over to your sister, you raised your hand with the rest of your team.

And that concluded the lesson.

Along with yet another crazy week.

-----

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#quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray imagine #quinn fabray #original work #original fanfiction

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jimsmovieworld · 10 months

Text

DROP DEAD GORGEOUS- 1999 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

In a small town, teenagers compete in the annual Sarah Rose cosmetics beauty pagent.

The prettiest, most talented and most smartest girl wins a gift card and gets to go to nationals.

Its Amber Atkins (Kirsten Dunst) dream to win like her hero Diane Sawyer did. But as things heat up, freak accidents keep taking girls out of the contest. Is this coincidence or is one of the girls literally killing the competition?

One of my favourite movies.

Amazing late 90's mockumentary/comedy. Love the feel of this movie. Hilarious dialogue and characters. I could listen to the Minnesota accents all day. The cast is amazing.

Three jimsmovieworld hall of famers: Kirsten Dunst, Denise Richards and Brittany Murphy all on amazing form.

Kirsten Dunst is amazing as Amber, so sweet and likable, great main character to root for.

Denise Richards best film role imo. Shes so savage and pretty hilarious from start to finish.

Brittany Murphy is great as usual. Her laugh is infectious. The bit at the end where she yells the news about her brother being gay to her dad kills me every time i see it.

You also have Amy Adams in her first film role as Leslie Miller, an oversexed teen hoping her cheerleading routine will win her 1st place.

Kirstie Alley, Sam McMurray and Alison Janney also all have great roles in this.

The supporting characters are also a big part of what makes this chaotic film so fun. Sometimes only appearing for a scene or two, some of them are among my favourite parts of the film.

Like the asian parents who have become Americanised. They kill me.

Drop Dead Gorgeous received mixed reviews upon release but has since gained cult film status, being praised by many for its dark humour and offbeat sensibilities.

Alison Janney says fans recognise her from this more than anything else in her career.

Drop Dead Gorgeous is one of the most criminally underated comedies ever and is endlessly rewatchable.

Directed by Michael Patrick Jann.

#drop dead gorgeous #movie #film #movie review #comedy movie #90s movie #90s comedy #cult movie #mockumentary #cult classic #kirsten dunst #brittany murphy #amy adams #denise richards

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brittanagirlcrush · 8 months

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2. "Have you lost your damned mind?" For Brittana obvi

Hope you like this :) It's a little different from my normal stuff. I'll post it on FF.Net too :) Thanks for the prompt.

Prompt: Have you lost your damn mind?

Title: Immutable Truths & Unbreakable Rules

A/N: This fits into my Brittana headcanon/canon-adjacent/canon-ish world. Happens shortly after IKAG

xoxoxoxoxo

If you walk the halls of William McKinley High School in Lima, OH, you are immediately made aware of two things: an immutable truth and an unbreakable rule.

The unbreakable rule is unbreakable because of the immutable truth.

The Unbreakable Rule is: Brittany S. Pierce is off-limits for any sort of bullying, harassment, slushying, name-calling, threatening, or anything else that might cause the bubbly blonde to pout, be sad, or upset.

The Immutable Truth is: Santana Lopez is completely, head-over-heels in love with Brittany S. Pierce.

Our story is a story because an idiot failed to remember these two things.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Rick “The Stick” Nelson was, for lack of a better term, an idiot.

He considered himself smart, hot, sexy, irresistible, charismatic, and an all-around catch.

He has told more than one female, with a leer, an eyebrow waggle, and a smarmy grin, that he gave himself the nickname “The Stick” … and not because he plays hockey. (Cue much eye-rolling at this point).

On this particular day, Rick was – as usual – bitching about his loss in the student election to “that stupid blonde bimbo Pierce”. He'd been bitching about it for over a week and his cronies (Rick didn't really have friends) were tired of hearing it.

“Dude, let it go already. Look, Brittany is, like,” Jerry rolled his eyes, “everybody likes Brittany. I mean, seriously, the only votes you probably got were from the hockey team and, I'm pretty sure, a few of them voted for Pierce.”

“Really, man, I mean … god … she's like in the Glee club and hasn't ever been slushied because everybody likes her.” Jack added.

The almost dead hamster in Rick's brain slowly turned on its wheel and Rick came up with a “brilliant” plan. He would slushie Brittany S. Pierce and she would be so humiliated that she'd resign and he'd be president. It was fool proof. (Forgetting, of course, that Kurt Hummel took the second number of votes (after the false votes were removed, of course).)

“I'm gonna slushie her today! Then she'll have to quit cuz she'll be humiliated.”

The was a collective outburst of “Have you lost your damned mind?!?!” to this proclamation.

The was the first utterance of the phrase that would cause that day to become known as the “Have You Lost Your Damned Mind” day.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Rick walked with purpose toward the tall, blonde cheerleader. He held a cherry slushie in his right hand. He saw Brittany notice him and smiled his smarmy grin.

He faltered a bit when Brittany simply shook her head and held up her hand, all five fingers splayed out.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Brittany was minding her own business, waiting for Santana to finish talking to Mr. Kellogg, when she spotted Rick “The Stick” Nelson moving toward her with determination, a slushie in his right hand.

She sighed and shook her head, knowing what was going to happen if he was successful. From the corner of her eye she spotted Santana coming toward her and knew that Rick, most decidedly, was not going to be successful.

She raised her hand, all five fingers splayed out. She slowly tucked her thumb back into her fist, then her pinky, her ring finger, and her middle finger. When the only finger left standing was her pointer finger she pointed it at Rick and slowly pulled it into her fist.

Xoxoxoxox

Rick watched as Brittany … counted down? When she reached one and pointed at him, he was about five steps away from bringing his plan to fruition. When she tucked her pointer in, the slushie cup was popped up into his face and a dark ball of fury slammed him into the lockers behind him with a resounding clang.

A left hook hit his jaw, then a right cross hit his nose with the sound of crunching cartilage. A flurry of blows followed. “Have (punch) you (punch) lost (punch) your (punch) damned (punch) mind (punch)?!”

Rick could barely see but he heard, incredibly softly, in a sing-song voice, “stop the violence.”

The blows stopped with a snarl and the body that had been pinning Rick to the lockers stepped away, allowing Rick to slip to the floor in a puddle of cherry slushie.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Santana was headed toward Britt's locker, happy to have successfully argued her A- up to an A. She was about to call out to Brittany when she saw Britt put her hand up. Santana frowned, looked toward where Britt's eyes were focused, and almost lost her damned mind.

'Oh … Hell to the NO! No me gusta,' she thought as the rage in her chest boiled over and she flew toward the idiot who thought he was going to slushie her girlfriend. She popped the slushie cup up into Rick's face before body slamming him into the lockers. She was going to kill him. A left to the jaw, a right to the nose (she was gratified to hear the crunch of cartilage), and a flurry of blows as she yelled, “Have (punch) you (punch) lost (punch) your (punch) damned (punch) mind (punch)?!”

She would have kept hitting him until he was unrecognizable and unconscious but Brittany's soft sing-songy voice called her back, “stop the violence”.

Santana snarled and stepped away, letting Rick slide down the locker into the puddle of slushie.

She stepped up to Brittany. “Are you okay, Britt?”

Brittany smiled at her. “I'm fine, honey.” She lifted Santana's hands. “You're going to need …”

“What in the devil went down to Georgia is going on here?” Coach Beiste bellowed.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Coach Beiste heard the sounds of a fight and headed toward the noise. She came around the corner and saw Rick “The Stick” Nelson lying in puddle of melting cherry slushie, his nose obviously broken, and his face looking like someone took a meat tenderizer to it.

“What in the devil went down to Georgia is going on here?” She bellowed, looking from Rick to Santana Lopez who was trying very hard not to look guilty.

“Lopez! Have you lost your damned mind?”

Santana shrugged. “He slipped on the slushie he was going to throw on Brittany.”

It took Coach Beiste all of three seconds to realize what had happened. She turned to look at Rick. “Boy, have YOU lost YOUR damned mind? You must be dumber than a sheep in wolves' clothing.” She shook her head.

“Alright! Show's over! I'm sure you all have somewhere to be.” Coach Beiste picked Rick up by the scruff of his neck and veritably dragged him to the nurse's office.

Xoxoxoxoxo

Brittany grabbed hold of Santana's sleeve to drag her to the bathroom without hurting her hands.

She pulled the first aid kit out of her backpack (all the Cheerios carried them due to the number of injuries they suffered) and cleaned, disinfected, put antibiotic ointment on, and wrapped Santana's hands in gauze.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I did try to warn him and …” she sighed, “I hate that you got hurt and you're probably going to get in trouble and …”

“Britt … hey, listen, everyone knows that if they come after you they'll be dealing with me. They KNOW I'm not going to stand by while someone harasses you. I don't know what that idiot was thinking but …” she shakes her head, “no one gets to hurt you.” She leaned up and captured Brittany's lips in a soft kiss. “I would do it again in a heartbeat before I'd let you get hurt.”

Brittany beamed at her. “I love you, Santana.”

“I love you, too, Britt-Britt,” Santana beamed right back at her.

Xoxoxoxoxo

If you were to walk those same halls after the “Have You Lost Your Damned Mind?” day, you would be made aware of a second Immutable Truth: Rick Nelson is an idiot.

#brittana #writing prompt #my fic writing #brittana fanfiction

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lands-of-fantasy · 1 year

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Emma

Classic and loose adaptions from 1972, 1995, 1996 (x2), 2009, 2013, 2020

The fourth of Jane Austen’s novels, first published in 1815, has had many adaptions over the years. The ones pictured above are detailed below:

Emma (1972 Miniseries)

6 episodes x 45min Written by Denis Constanduros, directed by John Glenister

Starring Doran Godwin as Emma Woodhouse, John Carson as Mr. George Knightley, Debbie Bowen as Harriet Smith, Timothy Peters as Mr. Philip Elton, Robert East as Frank Churchill, Ania Marson as Jane Fairfax, among others

Clueless (1995 Film)

Loose adaption set in modern Beverly Hills, USA Written and directed by Amy Heckerling

Alicia Silverstone as Cher Horowitz (Emma), Paul Rudd as Josh Lucas (Knightley), Stacey Dash as Dionne Davenport, Brittany Murphy as Tai Frasier (Harriet), Jeremy Sisto as Elton Tiscia, Justin Walker as Christian Stovitz (Frank), among others

Emma (1996 Film)

Written and directed by Douglas McGrath

Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma Woodhouse, Jeremy Northam as Mr. George Knightley, Toni Collette as Harriet Smith, Alan Cumming as Philip Elton, Ewan McGregor as Frank Churchill, Polly Walker as Jane Fairfax, among others

Emma (1996 TV Film)

Written by Andrew Davies, directed by Diarmuid Lawrence

Kate Beckinsale as Emma Woodhouse, Mark Strong as Mr. George Knightley, Samantha Morton as Harriet Smith, Dominic Rowan as Mr. Philip Elton, Raymond Coulthard as Frank Churchill, Olivia Williams as Jane Fairfax, among others

Emma (2009 Miniseries)

4 episodes x 58min Written by Sandy Welch, directed by Jim O'Hanlon

Starring Romola Garai as Emma Woodhouse, Jonny Lee Miller as Mr. George Knightley, Louise Dylan as Harriet Smith, Michael Gambon as Mr. Henry Woodhouse, Blake Ritson as Mr. Philip Elton, Rupert Evans as Frank Churchill, Laura Pyper as Jane Fairfax, Jefferson Hall as Robert Martin, among others

Emma Approved (2013-14 Webseries)

95 episodes x 4-8min, available on Youtube Loose adaption set in modern US, told in a vlog format

Created by Bernie Su, from Pemberley Digital

Starring Joanna Sotomura as Emma Woodhouse, Brent Bailey as Alex Knightley, Dayeanne Hutton as Harriet Smith, James Brent Isaacs as Bobby Martin, Paul Stuart as James Elton, Stephen A. Chang as Frank Churchill, Tyra Colar as Jane Fairfax, among others

While the series is a follow-up to The Lizzie Bennet Diaries, it stands on its own.

Emma (2020 Film)

Written by Eleanor Catton, directed by Autumn de Wilde

Anya Taylor-Joy as Emma Woodhouse, Johnny Flynn as Mr. George Knightley, Mia Goth as Harriet Smith, Bill Nighy as Mr, Woodhouse, Josh O'Connor as Mr. Philip Elton, Callum Turner as Frank Churchill, Amber Anderson as Jane Fairfax, among others

*****

Personal favorite: 2009 But also: 1996 (Theatrical Film), Emma Approved

P.S.: 2020′s pretty popular, from what I’ve seen. I’ve enjoyed it myself, but it’s not among my favorite.

#emma #emma approved #period drama #jane austen adaptations #emma woodhouse #mr knightley #george knightley #emma 2009 #clueless #harriet smith #frank churchill #emma 1996 #emma 2020 #emma 1972 #there's an indian movie but it's in hindi and I haven't found it with subtitles!

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thebowerypresents · 2 months

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Brittany Howard Impresses Sold-Out Webster Hall on Friday Night

Brittany Howard – Webster Hall – February 16, 2024

I first saw Brittany Howard more than 10 years ago, fronting Alabama Shakes at a sold-out Bowery Ballroom. That show totally rocked and Howard made an immediate lasting impression: a name, a voice, a presence I knew I’d be experiencing a decade or more down the road, in some form or another. On Friday night at Webster Hall, that form was perfectly defined, Howard headlining the first of two very sold-out shows, her name, voice and presence continuing to make lasting impressions on New York City audiences. The show opened with a set from Howard’s friend and Bermuda Triangle side-project-mate Becca Mancari, who tied together rock, soul and country through her deeply personal songwriting, setting up things just right for the headliner to come.

Howard’s band took the stage first, nine strong with two guitars, keyboards, organ, bass, drums and two backup singers, building an atmospheric churchlike chord for her entrance, the lights colored like sunlight through the stained glass of a chapel. The set began with “Earth Sign” and then “I Don’t,” just like her brand-new, week-old album, What Now, although she moved easily between the newer material and older songs, drawing from soul, R&B, folk, rock and combinations thereof, the widespread, universe appeal of her sound and energy easily explaining why every cranny of the club was filled with fans of all types. The set picked up momentum with “Stay High,” off 2019’s Jaime, and the following “Red Flags,” with the band turning out a deeper, darker sound.

“Samson” gave the ensemble even more room to explore, a nifty back-and-forth between the guitar and keys, Howard repeatedly singing, “I'm split in two.” That was one of many love songs, with some, like “Baby,” feeling especially personal as they resonated across the room. The latter half of the show found Howard fulfilling her back-when promise, elevating above genre or labels: “History Repeats,” a get-down Friday-night banger, “Georgia,” with its slow, cathartic organ build, “Goat Head” — pairing a delicious groove with lyrics like “’Cause Mama is white / And Daddy is black / When I first got made / Guess I made these folks mad” — “13th Century Metal,” with its contrasting sonic chaos with positive messaging, and “Every Color in Blue,” the instrumental complexity of the band matching the complexity of the song’s mental health subject matter. The set ended on a quiet note, Howard all alone with an acoustic guitar, singing “Power to Undo,” another sold-out show in NYC, another long-lasting impression on all in attendance. —A. Stein | @Neddyo

Photos courtesy of Ellen Qbertplaya | @Qbertplaya

#Aaron Stein #Alabama Shakes #Becca Mancari #Bowery Presents #Brittany Howard #East Village #Ellen Qbertplaya #Jaime #Live Music #Music #New York City #Photos #Review #Webster Hall #What Now

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forabeatofadrum · 3 months

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Ljubili se (7/21)

Notes: Hi! I am still writing. I am just very busy with uni work.

Anyway, it's a small world in the Ljubili se universe.

AO3 | S&C

–

Blaine never really got to know Santana Lopez. He hasn’t seen her in years and he hasn’t thought about her in years. Santana is one of Quinn’s childhood friends. They lived in the same hall of the dorm of their fancy boarding school. They kept in touch when they were in college. Santana and her girlfriend Brittany, who was also a friend of Quinn’s, even came to see Quinn in New Haven. That’s where Blaine met them, after all.

But distance muddled the relationship and by the time Blaine and Quinn moved to LA, their friendship had fizzled out. As far as Blaine’s aware, Quinn, Brittany and Santana only send each other an annual happy birthday message. That’s how things go. Blaine’s also fallen out of touch with people in his life.

That’s also why he didn’t expect to run into one of Quinn’s former best friends in his boyfriend’s apartment.

Blaine and Santana are staring at each other in disbelief. Kurt and his other roommate Rachel are clearly confused.

Rachel therefore breaks the silence.

She holds out her hand and walks up to Blaine.

“Rachel Berry, so nice to meet you, even though Kurt kept you a secret until now,” she says and she winks towards Kurt.

Blaine shakes her hand and manages to look away from Santana, although he still can feel her gaze on him.

“Yes. Right,” he says awkwardly, “But ah, well, that’s because of me. Mostly.”

Great. He’s a mess. He had rehearsed what he was going to say, but that was because Blaine was under the impression that he’d be meeting complete strangers. It had never even occurred to Blaine that Santana, Kurt’s roommate, is the same Santana. Kurt even mentioned that Santana has a girlfriend who isn’t Brittany!

Did she and Brittany break up? Does Quinn even know?

That’s not what matters now. What matters is that Blaine is woefully unprepared for this. Santana is still very unfamiliar with him. They barely talked when she came to New Haven, since she was there to hang out with Quinn and Blaine didn’t want to impose, but she clearly recognises him, probably as “Quinn’s boyfriend”.

And he’s correct.

“Does Quinn know?” Santana interrupts.

Everyone looks at her and Blaine can hear Rachel mutter “Quinn?” under her breath. Kurt also still looks very confused.

“Yes,” Blaine answers honestly, “Of course.”

“Ah. Damn. Okay.”

Santana nods to herself and Blaine almost wants to clarify that Quinn is fine and that she’s moved on since she’s dating Denise, but Quinn is still deeply in the closet, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“Sorry, I think Kurt and I are missing something here,” Rachel says, “Quinn? Quinn who?”

“Fabray, from high school,” Santana answers and Rachel gets a dark look on her face.

“Oh,” Rachel says and she takes a step away from Blaine.

“Quinn Fabray started dating some guy when she went to Yale,” Santana continues, “And Blaine is that guy.”

“Hi,” Blaine waves awkwardly. He is the aforementioned some guy.

“But it looks like they broke up and that Blaine’s gay now.”

“That is correct,” Blaine says. That is one way to put it.

Then Santana’s look goes from baffled to amused, and Blaine does remember that side of Santana. She has a cheeky grin on her face.

“Damn, Hummel, is your dick so good it can turn people gay?” she laughs.

“Santana!” Kurt exclaims.

“It’s a good dick,” Blaine says back, which makes Santana laugh even louder and Kurt groan. But Blaine is beaming. He can’t believe he just said that!

Maybe it’s a good thing that he sort of knows Santana. He knows her enough to understand that he can say that. He can find himself relax. Santana is also over her shock and Kurt’s turned red, but he’s smiling too. Only Rachel has retreated to the kitchen.

“But yeah, this is really new for me,” Blaine admits, “You two are actually the first people I’ve come out to back here in America.”

“We met in Ljubljana,” Kurt quickly clarifies, “We’ve been together since April.”

“Oh, wow,” Santana looks impressed and slightly touched, “I’m honoured.”

“Good for you,” Rachel says from the kitchen, and despite her obvious sudden distain for him, she sounds genuine.

Then she loudly announces that she needs to go. Kurt points out that she doesn’t have plans, but Rachel in turn says that it has been changed. It’s a clear excuse to get out of the situation, and before anyone can protest anymore, she’s gone.

“She has some sort of beef with Quinn,” Santana says once the door is shut, “Don’t ask me. I don’t know what’s up either.”

Blaine might bring it up to Quinn then.

“Well, then, Porcelain,” Santana walks towards the kitchen to open the fridge, “We really have a lot to catch up on.”

She takes out a bottle of wine and goes through the kitchen for glasses. Kurt takes the time to check in on Blaine.

“You alright?” he asks quietly and squeezes Blaine’s hand.

Blaine nods.

He is.

This really didn’t go the way he planned and he’s still nervous about coming out to more people, which he should’ve seen coming. It’s not as if he could come out once and be done with it. But he’s also alright and Santana’s babbling from the kitchen makes him feel at ease. Santana (and also Rachel) acknowledged that it was important to him, but also didn’t act as if it was a huge deal.

Blaine likes that. He really, really likes that.

Kurt’s also moved to the kitchen to get some snacks and Santana tells Blaine to sit down and just relax. She later returns with a glass for him and Kurt also emerges out of the kitchen with a tray of goodies. Santana sits down in a comfy chair and puts her feet on the table, but no one cares.

“So,” she starts and Kurt sees that as his cue to tell Santana how he and Blaine met.

“I was a mess,” Blaine affirms when Kurt describes how desperate Blaine was for pizza.

“Right. And I think I liked him from the start, but you know me,” Kurt sighs. Santana nods.

“And in hindsight, I was really drawn to Kurt since the start, but I was, you know, straight.”

“A mistake we’ve all made before,” Santana says and Kurt also lets out a small laugh. Blaine also smiles. Santana is right. Being straight was the phase for him.

“I even thought I was homophobic for a while,” Blaine mutters and Santana almost chokes on her wine.

Kurt and Blaine continue their story and once they’re at the part where they actually get together, Blaine asks how up to date Santana is about Quinn’s life.

“Honestly, I haven’t heard from her in ages,” Santana answers.

“Yeah?”

She hums.

“Yeah. I knew you were off to some European country, but truly, that’s the last I heard. We’ve really been out of touch. I haven’t even told her about Brittany yet.”

“Ah.”

Blaine wonders how she is. He also didn’t really get to know Brittany, but he liked her enough.

“How did you and Brittany break up?” Kurt asks. He also hasn’t gotten around to asking.

Santana shrugs.

“I think a part of me will always cherish her,” Santana starts, “And we parted on good terms, but we just realised there are no more feelings. Sometimes people fall out of love. I think I was in denial, but then I met Dani, my current girlfriend, and I was sure it wasn’t right.”

“Is she also still in New York?” Blaine asks.

“Yeah,” Santana answers, “Man, it’s a good thing we never adhered to the lesbian stereotype of moving in together. I mean, her school was just in a different part of the city, but still.”

“Isn’t Brittany bi?” Blaine asks.

“Does it matter?” Santana says back and Blaine frowns. He thinks it does. If it matters to Brittany. Blaine thinks about Quinn, who got quiet when Blaine brought up this same stereotype.

Santana doesn’t pick up on his slight discomfort and talks a bit more about Dani, but she really catches Blaine’s attention again when she suggests that the four of them go to a gay bar.

“New York is filled with them,” she says, “Although not all of them are great, but Kurt and I know a place.”

Kurt nods.

Blaine’s filled with a mix of curiosity and discomfort. He really wants to see the queer scene for himself. He’s been thinking about it ever since he and Kurt got together. So far, he’s only been a bystander in some Pride stuff in Ljubljana.

But on the other hand, he’s not sure if he’s ready for that. But then why isn’t he ready for that?

“Can I think about it?” Blaine asks, “I’ll be in town for a week.”

“Plenty of time,” Santana agrees.

The three of them hang out for another hour or so, but Blaine realises he’s tired. He was in Los Angeles in the morning, and now he’s here, so it’s been a long day. Kurt and Blaine tell Santana they’re going to bed and of course Santana can’t help but make a bad joke about it.

“Good night to you too, Santana,” Kurt says.

#klaine #glee #december klaine challenge 2023 #hall #multichaptered #2023 #holy fuck I wrote #2024

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