do you want to change?
Sweetie, how ‘bout we share?
It wasn’t so much that Santana was struck dumb by her beauty, or some such crap like that. Nope. Sure, Santana had noticed her almost right off the bat, but wasn’t like she’d decided right then and there that she had to have her.
Instead, dependent on the luck of running into her later that day at the cafe nearest to the university, the girl’s coffee nearly taking up permanent residence on Santana’s jeans and vest, she might have never pursued her. (Because, really, come on, the girl’s subsequent apology and offer of cleaning Santana’s clothes had practically been like some kind of cliche lesbian novel. You know, if Santana read those. Which she didn’t, of course. Duh, of course she didn’t.)
But regardless, (wonderfully) those two meetings had happened. And now, Santana grinned broadly, leaning in to press a solid kiss under her girlfriend’s ginger bangs, circling her waist and meeting her green eyes with her grin still crooking her lips up, she wouldn’t want it any other way.
Oh no, she laughed, continuing, giving in and kissing her girlfriend properly when she moved in with her pout, no other way at all.
It is zero degrees outside.
I don’t know if I’ve ever been in colder temperature before.
Rachel still has a troubled expression on her face when she arrives back to the apartment. Coming upon a barely faded blue-haired Dani drinking from the milk carton in the kitchen, she holds back her scathing remark. It isn’t her milk, after all - it’s Santana’s - and it’s not like Santana’s not used to having Dani’s lips and saliva in and around her mouth. Instead, she reaches past Dani to pull out her own bottle of iced tea she’d made earlier that morning.
Swallowing, rubbing the back of her hand over her mouth, Dani nods, grinning at her. Setting the milk carton onto the counter, she pauses, tenses, and jumps up next to it, her heels hitting the cupboards. “‘Sup?”
'Sup. Rachel will never understand her generation's need to distill everything down into simple shortcuts. But, sighing, rolling her eyes lightly, Rachel politely lingers, resting against a sister-counter, her hip the only part of herself contacting it. She takes a sip of her tea before smiling just as politely as her body language suggests, “Not much.”
Dani stares at her. “Uh-humm,” she smiles, chin bobbing in the air. “And the lines on your forehead say what?”
"What?" Rachel blinks.
Dani’s smile practically triples in size, her teeth shining in the light. “Rachel. Something’s bothering you. So…” She shrugs, shaking her head with a duh expression keeping her mouth open, eyebrows arched, “Spill.”
But Dani’s not Santana. And it’s Santana Rachel would normally turn to. Especially about something like this.
But then again, Dani is a lesbian, too. And here. It’s true Santana has a late class, and, well, Rachel really can’t keep this to herself anymore. Not to mention Dani probably wouldn’t make as much fun as Santana would, now that Rachel thinks about it…
Looking down, Rachel makes up her mind. “…Fine,” she sighs, throwing her head back and resettling on her feet, meeting Dani’s eyes again, fingernails picking at the lines in her recycled-use water bottle, “There’s this…
“No, wait.” She holds up her hand. “Are you prepared to keep this just between you and me?”
Fleur offers Hermione her favorite jumper before they leave Shell Cottage. The blonde crooks a small smile, whispering under her breath, "make sure you give it back, hmm?"
As Fleur hands her the garment, her fingers linger on Hermione’s own for a moment longer than necessary. “After all of this is over, after you’ve finished with whatever you have to do, come back okay?”
Hermione nods, fighting back tears. She gets it. This was Fleur’s way of telling her to keep fighting, to survive, to live.
I just realized that fanfictions in my head that have the taste of me updating them more recently than others were updated almost two years ago.
I’ve barely updated any of my “proper” fanfictions this past year, have I?
I don’t know what I think about this. I don’t like how it makes me feel. I feel like I have failed something.
Question is, will this just motivate me to finish my updates, or only push me farther down into a malaise that will succeed in the opposite happening?