June 2012
“Humanity is OK, but 99% of people are boring idiots”
—Slavoj Žižek (via nevver)
Let's see where this goes continued
kc: “Hello Santana. I have a proposition that you might be interested in.”
pp: Santana looked up. She scoffed. ”Oh god. What’re you yapping about now?”
kc: “Must you always be so inherently antagonistic?” she huffed, stomping her foot.
pp: Santana’s lips curled up. “But you make it so easy,” she smirked.
kc: Rachel huffed and glared but couldn’t stop the answering smile from forming.
pp: “See?” Santana grinned smugly. Sitting up straight, she crossed her arms. “Well?”
kc: She rolled her eyes. “I want you to have sex with me.”
pp: Santana honest to god froze. “…What?” she snapped. “Are you - fuck - mental?”
kc: Rachel smirked. “Santana, language. Save that kind of talk for the bedroom.”
pp: A noise sounding from the back of her throat, Santana sobered. “Talk.”
kc: “I am not a dog, Santana. I refuse to speak on command.”
pp: “Is that so?” Shaking her head, Santana stepped forward. She smirked predatorily.
kc: Rachel refused to back down, raising an eyebrow imperiously. “Yes, that’s so.”
pp: “Whatever.” Shaking her head and waving a hand, Santana rolled her eyes.
kc: “Is Santana Ima-cut-a-bitch-Lopez backing down from a challenge?”
pp: Santana whirled around. “Excuse me?” she barked, stalking forward, “What, Man Hands?”
kc: Rachel crossed her arms, still unmoving, still not intimidated. “You heard me.”
pp: Santana’s hands crashed on either side of Rachel’s shoulders. “What?” she rumbled.
kc: “While I may like it rough, now is not the time, Santana.”
pp: Santana’s eyebrows rose. “Rough?” she smirked, leaning in close, “This ain’t rough.”
kc: Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Then stop being a fucking tease and prove it.”
pp: Santana glared at her. “Hobbit,” she whispered, “You know what you’re doing?”
kc: “Of course I do. I see the way you look at me.”
pp: Santana closed her eyes. “Right, ” she hummed, “Then prove it to me.”
kc: “I want the record to show I see through your reverse psychology.”
pp: Scoffing, Santana stepped away. “Really?” she asked, “Really? Reverse psychology?” She laughed.
kc: Rachel shrugged, moving towards the door. “I will not chase after you.”
pp: “Hey!” Her hand flashing out, Santana wrapped her hand around Rachel’s wrist.
kc: “Yes, Santana? Is there something you would like to say to me?”
pp: Setting her jaw, Santana glared at her. “Fuck. You,” she turned away.
kc: “Oh for Barbra’s sake!” Rachel pulled her back around, lips meeting forcefully.
pp: Freezing, it didn’t take long for Santana to completely dominate the kiss.
kc: Rachel let all resistance fall away; Santana was a really good kisser.
pp: Smirking, Santana fearlessly slipped her tongue along the seam of Rachel’s lips.
kc: Even as she submitted, Rachel also ran her nails down Santana’s back.
pp: Gasping, Santana crushed Rachel to her. “Damn,” she groaned, arching sensually, ”Hobbit.”
kc: “Mmm, I give as good as I get,” she said, smirking coyly.
PP: “Well…” Dropping her head, Santana dragged her tongue along Rachel’s neck, “Fuck.”
kc: “Shit,” Rachel hissed, arching her body, holding onto Santana’s shoulders for support.
pp: “And your mouth…” Santana nipped Rachel’s throat, “Damn.” Pulling back, she smirked.
Phase one cleaning, laundry, has been started.
My armada has just grown again.
I’m somewhat shipping Puckleberry now.
Let me just shake my head at myself.
Play
1:25
FACT: People of the rainbow persuasion don't have friends. They have Prides. Like lions, but gayer, and prouder.
"If I were a cat, I'd spend all nine lives with you." - Brittberry (or Brittana) prompt?
“If I were a cat, I’d spend all nine lives with you.”
“Brittany?” Pulling back, Santana stared down at her.
Brittany smiled. “Totally,” she nodded, tightening her grip around Santana’s back, urging her to continue kissing along her face and neck, “You’re my future and present and past.”
Dropping her head, Santana’s lips brushed along Brittany’s cheek. “Britt?” she whispered, hands curling around Brittany’s, “Please.”
“What?” Pushing herself up on her elbows, Brittany firmed her expression, “What, Santana?”
Hot breath puffed along Brittany’s jaw and mouth. “You know what,” Santana murmured, teeth nipping along Brittany’s neck, “Please, please stop.”
Brittany’s hand came up to splay along Santana’s collarbones. “No,” she insisted, leveling a direct stare at the other girl, “You know what I’m saying. What you’re saying.”
Santana closed her eyes, pushing herself back. “Can’t we…” she started, shaking her head, suddenly sitting up straight and leaning enough back so she wasn’t touching Brittany anymore, “Can’t we just do this without putting a name to it? Without making it…” She cursed under her breath, “Making it more?”
“More?” Brittany sat back. “More?” Sounding sad and disappointed, she scooted back on the bed. “Santana, aren’t I… Aren’t I more?”
“Stop!” Glaring at her, Santana jerked her head to the side, “Just, stop, Britts. You’re not going to get what you want. You’re just not, okay? I can’t give it to you.” She sharpened her glare, “I can’t.”
Brittany’s eyes shuttered. “Then what am I to you?” she spat.
Santana froze. “…B?” she asked, turning her head, turning from where she had been fixing her ponytail, “Don’t ask that.”
Brittany looked away. Sucking in a breath, she dropped her chin. “Give me an answer,” she admitted, her voice rising, becoming more confident, “Give me an answer or get out.”
“Brittany – ”
“Give me an answer or get out!” Brittany snapped. “Just… Just do it.”
Santana’s jaw snapped shut. “I… Can’t,” she repeated, voice soft, regretful, pushing up from Brittany’s bed, “I just can’t, okay?”
Brittany closed her eyes, turning her head away. “Then…” she took a deep breath, “Then go.”
“Britt – ”
“Go!” Almost shaking, Brittany pointed towards the door. “I love you, Santana – I always will – but I can’t agree with you not feeling the same. Not yet.”
“Brittany.”
Brittany pushed off her bed. “You may have all of my nine lives,” she muttered, her back to Santana, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t hurt me. So leave. Go. Go.”
Santana hesitated.
“Go,” Brittany pressed, turning, deep, deep blue eyes meeting Santana’s, “Go until you know what you’re really feeling.”
“Brittany – ”
“Go. Go until it isn’t confusing anymore!”
I do hope you are sleeping right now, because I believe it's... 6 AM where you are, but yes challenging expectations, yes good. Want a real challenge? Angsty Tinchel ;D
Staring down at her hands, Tina swallowed. These hands… She almost smiled; these hands had touched the girl she’d fallen in love with.
But.
But would she touch her again?
Tina didn’t know. Curling her fingers into her palm, she tried to suck in a deep breath.
She needed to breathe, because otherwise she didn’t think she could survive what was going on around her.
Artie had forgotten her. Mercedes and Kurt had forgotten her. And perhaps worst, Rachel had forgotten her.
They were the originals. The original five.
And Tina had been the first one to support Rachel.
With her stuttering words, her complete belief in Rachel’s superiority, Tina had paved the way for the older girl to take her ‘rightful’ spot as glee club captain.
“Of course,” Rachel had smiled, meeting Tina’s eyes before moving on, “It only makes sense that I make the time to make sure that we can become the best we can.”
Of course, Tina mocked, turning her head, her chin pressing into her own shoulder, of course Rachel was the one who decided everything. Mr. Schuester was only a placeholder – a mouthpiece. He was barely a teacher, barely a leader for the glee club to look to.
No. It was Rachel who shone.
And it was Tina’s hands who had helped her in the beginning.
Rachel, she mouthed, watching the fabric of her gloves move over the palms of her hands, don’t you remember? Don’t you remember my stuttering words of love? My tentative actions of support?
Tina dropped her head. No, her lips turned, no, of course not.
Rachel had Finn.
And Tina had Mike.
Heterosexual love. That’s where the strength of the glee club rested.
No matter the look in Rachel’s eyes. No matter the hitching of Tina’s breaths. No matter whatever crossed her mind when their eyes met.
No matter the heat that stretched between them.
For anon:
I’m pretty damn drunk.
Still looking for 100 word drabble prompts, though!
