Summary: Brittany’d been a favorite before – a beautiful Career from District 2, with an 8 in training? The Capital had loved her. Now that they’ve heard her talk, they pity her. They don’t even get mad at her for telling them how terrible they are. After all, they sigh, she can’t understand what she’s saying.
Santana laughs, and runs her tongue over the Remade points of her fanged teeth. Oh, she can’t wait for this year’s Games.
Word Count: ~2,400
Author’s Notes: There is some awful, ignorant talk about Brittany in here, including the word ‘retard.’ This is not how I feel about Brittany, as you will see if you read the whole story, but I wanted to warn for it.
Also, it’s a Hunger Games AU. People die. I don’t really focus on that though.
Unbetaed, so any mistakes are mine. Sorry!
Summary: Blaine Anderson is a gifted criminal profiler working for the FBI. Dr. Kurt Hummel is his soul mate.
Word Count: ~1,700
TW: THEY ARE EATING PEOPLE. Blaine does not know this. BUT THEY ARE. Also discussion of murders
Author’s Notes: for my darling nowishforwings, who has finally returned to our midsts on tumblr! I’m sorry this is so delayed, but I hope you like it anyway <3
I’m planning a sequel, because I really really liked this. I SWEAR I’M NOT A SERIAL KILLER, GOOGLE, I JUST NEEDED TO KNOW HOW TO COOK PEOPLE
Summary: Blaine is disassociating. My take on Trou Normand
Word Count: ~1,700
Notes: Wishy, I hope you feel better <3
set in the same universe as Blood and Lilacs, though it's not the sequel I had planned. That is still to come!
Warnings: IT'S A HANNIBAL CROSS OVER. THE MEAT IS PEOPLE. THE SALAD IS PEOPLE. EVERYTHING IS PEOPLE.
Summary: Summary: Because things like this don’t just go away. How the Glee Club keeps on going. Some days are okay, some… some days not so okay.
Reaction fic to Shooting Star
Word Count: ~2,700
Author’s Notes: OH MY FUCKING GOD MY FIRST PODFIC
so please excuse the suckage
- Current Mood: nervous
Summary: “Quinn meets Kurt for the first time over a dead body. It’s not as weird as it sounds. They are in a funeral home after all.” A remix of hedgerose’s Fishmonger ‘Verse! Flowers, fish puns, and friendship! OH MY!
Word Count: ~7,400
Author’s Notes: a million thank yous to my beautiful betas penroseparticle and luckyjak, my darling fandom wife. A shout out to the-multicorn, who made me take a good hard look at this fic and rework it to make it something better. I love you all so much <3
and of course, thank you to hedgerose, who has not only been a writing inspiration but an incredibly awesome person and a very sweet friend, as well as providing such amazing worlds to play around in. I was SO FUCKING INTIMIDATED when I found out I had to remix one of your fics, but I really did have so much fun doing it. I hope you liked it <3
- Current Music:Upendi - The Lion King 2
A reaction fic to Shooting Star, it deals with the aftermath of the shooting for all the Glee kids.
Word Count: ~2,800
Read here at AO3
He does try to though, his face all scrunchy and yearning like Lord Tubbington when they’re trying to wean him off his cigarettes. So she can forgive him for being so very trying so sometimes. He doesn’t try to be trying. He tries not to be. Words are confusing. Brittany’s tempted sometimes, to go back to not talking and just meowing at people.
She works at him though, slow and steady wins the race she knows that (even though that doesn’t make sense until Santana explains that the turtle cheated, and then it makes so much sense.) And she pulls him into her orbit for a few seconds more each time until they’re dancing cheek to cheek. Sam’s awesome, and his mouth is amazing at doing all kinds of fun stuff (like accents. And sex. His mouth is really good at that) but he’s not a very good dancer. Blaine is. She likes dancing with him, and feeling his little hobbit pulse jump when she nuzzles into the scruff of his neck. She’s usually close enough that she can feel the way his chest shakes, and she recognizes that feeling from when she hugged Santana after her abuela kicked her out.
She holds him close and dances in a whirlwind around him so nothing else can touch him. As long as her ponytail is spinning in a circle around them both her blonde magic can protect him. She’d spin around him all the time, but that’d make her dizzy. Plus Blaine’s getting better about dancing with her. Maybe he’s got a little blonde in him too.
And he holds her too, when she misses Santana. She knows she’s not supposed to, not when Santana is happy in New York and she’s happy with Sam and Sam is happy with her. She knows all that happiness shouldn’t leave room for unhappiness; it’s like, science or something. There should only be so much room inside her.
But sometimes she still misses Santana, even though they’re best friends again and everything should be awesome like it used to be. And Blaine notices, and Blaine paints her nails and brushes her hair so she has other feelings to focus on. He even uses extra shiny laquer so she can press the pads of her fingers to that slippery smoothness. It’s one of her favorite feelings.
So when they’re together sometimes they dance, and sometimes they paint nails, and sometimes they practice make up on each other because Blaine has really pretty eyes and Brittany’s just super hot. And sometimes Blaine helps her with her homework and then she helps teach him new ways to stretch so that he’ll be able to win Kurt back with all the sexy moves she knows. And sometimes they just cuddle, because words are hard and weird and bodies are easier. She likes the way his legs are all smooth, and he likes the way her boobs are like pillows.
They’re aren’t obvious or crazy in their love for each other. They don’t plan insane take overs and mask-based plots like Blaine and Sam do. And Brittany doesn’t have to search Blaine’s fat folds for crack the way she does with Lord Tubbington. But it’s easy and fun and nice, and they’re both happy to have someone they can just be quiet around.
So most of their interactions take place at school, in the break room over squeaky clean fruit and creamy pasta. Usually they talk about their kids. They trade notes, sometimes literally, and offer advice and generally commiserate about how amazing it is to be simultaneously so proud you could spit rainbows at 50 feet and also want to crack a kid’s skull for being a little smart ass.
It’s not deep or particularly meaningful conversation, except for the fact that it’s their entire lives laid across the table like so many shiny grapes. Emma wasn’t there for Cooter, and Shannon wasn’t there for the wedding, but they’re there for each other every day. They’re comrades, sisters-in-arms in the trenches of McKinley. They both know, with the kind of instinctive knowledge of a soldier, that they’d take bullets for each other.
It may not seem like a lot, half an hour a day of chatting about their students, but it’s something they look forward to every day. It’s the little things that make up a life after all.