#feeltasia

[xandylytex]

Oh my, it's so hard to chose ONE song for fanslide when every love song reminds me of Brittana. But here I go: Do I Wanna Know - Arctic Monkey

x

She knows she shouldn’t call.It seems like a good idea, though, calling her. Somewhere in her fuzzy mind, she imagines dialing her number. It’s familiar in a way that staring at it a hundred times while intoxicated without ever hitting the Call button can be. She’s memorized it. But it’s not a good idea. With the amount of alcohol in her system, there’s no telling what she’d say- confess- and she has no idea how the other girl would respond. It’s driving her crazy, not knowing the other girl’s feelings. She wishes she could just tell her-But-The phone sits on her table, treacherously within reach……and Santana pours herself another drink.

x

THROWBACK THURSDAY B)

[xandylytex]

Brittany hates the feeling that comes over her in August, hates the looming panic of time growing shorter and responsibilities approaching far too quickly. Her time is almost up, and she feels her carefree days slipping away. Once school starts, everything will change, and Santana will treat her differently. No more lacing their fingers together around the house. No more dates to the movies, stealing kisses in the back row, snuggling with the armrest up. No more sex in the pool and sucking sparkling drops of water from tanned skin. Santana will go back to being afraid, back to hiding, and Brittany will go back to being just a friend, back to waiting. When the summer dies, it's hard not to feel sad about it.

~

song req by Cusper (5150allthebestpeopleare)

[xandylytex]

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To say Santana despises Disney movies would be somewhat of an exaggeration. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy them- but rather, she doesn’t enjoy the feelings they evoke whenever she watches them, and Hercules is a little too close to home for her.

At least, that’s what Brittany thinks.

Santana could’ve stayed home- she didn’t have to come help Brittany babysit her younger sister, Ashley on a Saturday night. She could’ve went to a party and came over long after Ashley went to bed, if she was only into spending time with Brittany for other reasons.

But because Santana insisted- because she showed up with snacks and snuggly pajamas- because she doesn’t mind that Ashley sits sprawled between them, hugging her arm- that’s how Brittany knows Santana must care more about her.

It’s not just sex.

And later, when they’re in bed and Brittany’s kissing Santana’s neck, cupping her face, pressing closer, Santana looks at her, and her eyes are so brown and warm and loving that Brittany just knows.

(Santana may not be ready to say it out loud yet, but she says it in a million other ways.)

 ~

song request by Anon 

[xandylytex]

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Something is up.

She had a feeling when Santana went back to Lima for a visit that things would change, despite the other girl’s reassurance that it wouldn’t, but they both heard the way Santana’s voice felt hollow and devoid of sincerity. Still, she had to let her go, or risk sounding overly paranoid- and for what? She only had her gut instinct to follow.

If she was being honest with herself, things had already begun to change, and it had started as soon as she’d agreed to be in Kurt’s new band- without Santana. Maybe she was being a bad girlfriend, but honestly, Santana’s drama with Rachel was not something she wanted to be involved in, and when it bled into Pamela Lansbury’s activities, it just wasn’t fun anymore.

But she never expected things to take such a steep, drastic turn.

The first night, Santana’s distant and unresponsive on the phone, and hangs up with hardly a goodbye.

The second night, Santana misses her call, and doesn't return it until far too late in the evening, when she’s already asleep.

The third night, she doesn't call- she checks Facebook, and the truth punches her when she sees that Santana’s been tagged in a location…

-with Brittany Pierce and 5 others.

Dani shuts her laptop, and knows she never stood a chance. 

~

requested by everyone's favorite laughter, chuckleshan

[xandylytex]

Hey you, awesome person! Still accepting fanslide requests?

Hi, Anon!

I wish I could say that I was, but as you can tell, I haven’t done a fanslide since episode 100 because I’ve been trying to focus on getting Quell finished. I currently have about 40 untouched prompts in my inbox that I may or may not be able to get to in the next month or two.

So the long answer to your question? Well, if you want to wait a few months for me to fill it with the possibility of me never doing so, then yes, I am.

The short answer? Nope. No more. Hahah.

Sorry, Anon! XD though I appreciate your participation in the project! You’re awesome!

[xandylytex]

Hi there, any idea which authors are still taking fanslide requests?

Well, Anon; most of the authors I know have a full inbox of prompts, myself included, that we just have not had time to get to, but we will. Many of us are crippled by Brittana feels from 100, and if we aren’t, we are preparing ourselves for the upcoming crippling feels of 101. 

My suggestion is to check the #fanslide tag and see who is requesting more songs, and if not, give it some time until people get a chance to clear out the prompts that are already in their askbox and wait for them to request more. There’s no rush to finish, as the project doesn’t have an end date. And I’m certain that with Brittana feelings on the rise, fanslide will continue to be a thing for a while.

Hang in there, Anon! :D I’m sure someone on the #fanslide tag would love for you to send them some prompts!

[teleportingoctopi]

For the fanslide thing please: Chick habit- April March

DEATHPROOF?  ANON.  REALLY.  YOU’RE AWESOME.  Also, I got a little carried away.  I JUST REALLY LOVE DERBY!BRITTANA.

[Chick Habit by April March]

"I can’t believe you’re actually doing this."  Quinn is staring at me in her perfectly snarky way, her lip curled.  We’re standing at the edge of the arena and I have her old, sequined skates in my hand.  My stomach is churning, and it’s probably what people call butterflies, but—honestly—they feel more like cannon balls.

I really hate pain, as much shit as I talk, I’ve only been in a couple fist fights and after reevaluating my life, I’m pretty sure those other girls never actually put up a fight.  I mean—Debbie Zimmerman twisted her ankle and fell down the stairs and Candice Janickie hit herself in the back of the head with her own damn bookbag.  I just looked like a bad ass, standing above them, looking out of breath, making sure my hair was perfectly disheveled.

"Fuck," I mutter at my sudden realization.  I’m a goddamn pussy, as detailed by the way my knees shake and the armadillo cannon balls try to punch through the lining of my stomach.

"Oh, so the Princess finally gets it.”  Quinn is smirking.  Obviously she’d come to the same realization years ago as detailed by the way she so easily manipulates me.  What a bitch.

"I don’t see YOU putting on the skates and prancing around with the bearded ladies," I snap.

"That’s because I’m not stupid enough to let a wall of meaty women beat me to a bloody pulp all for a fucking phone number.  I have my smile and my nose.  My perfect nose."  She taps the tip of her said anatomy.

"I’m not doing this for—"

"If you want to suck her pussy, all you gotta do is ask, why bother letting other women beat the piss out of you?  Unless she thinks scars are hot."  The sound of a whistle breaks Quinn’s thought, the thunder of wheels on a banked, wooden track adding to the terror prickling at the back of my neck.

"What I’m not—"

"Don’t say it.  Because I don’t think I’ll be able to contain my laughter, S."

"Say what?"  An arm drops around my shoulders.  I can smell the perfect blend of vanilla and sweet pea, maybe a bit of mint mixed in and an odor all her own.  Blinding lights flash behind my eyes, my fingers slick with sweat and Quinn’s stupid skates slipping from my grasp.

“Brittany!”  Quinn says, gently patting her on the arm.  The clatter of the skates on the floor makes me jump.  I rocket towards the floor fumbling with the awkward contraptions (I’m pretty sure roller-skates were made by Satan himself).

"Well, come on, San!"  The way she shortens my name is perfect.  The way she says it is perfect.  She’s perfect.  "You gotta put the skates on to play!"  Her golden hair is held back by a neon pink sweatband, a tight, white tank top spray painted with c-c-c-cherry bomb in red clinging in all the right places.  Or maybe the wrong places.  Because I’m staring.

And Brittany is smiling at me.  The axis of my world is spinning and I know why that is.  My chest feels full.  (Quinn is rolling her eyes—fuck that bitch.)

[xandylytex]

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  Brittany watches Santana all night- the way she hangs all over Puck, the way she flirts with Matt, the way she tosses back cups of alcohol like it’s nothing. She watches Santana as she sits in Mike’s lap, as she bats her eyelashes at Finn, as she smiles at Karofsky. It makes her sad from her spot in the corner, talking to Dan and nursing a cup of beer she doesn’t even like.

Santana wears her Cheerios uniform like armor, and nothing can dent it, except-

Except Brittany knows.

She knows Santana wears the toughest armor because she has the tenderest insides.

So she watches her parade around all night, walking the walk and talking the talk, and tries not to let it disappoint her.

But later, when it’s just the two of them, and Santana’s armor lies carelessly tossed aside, and Santana lies even more carelessly beneath her, Brittany spends her time reminding her- it’s okay to have tender insides.

x

~song req by leigh-kelly