Chapter Three: Kiss the Girl

"Do you think they noticed we're here?" Kurt asked softly.

"No, they seem too absorbed with each other." Finn whispered back.

"It's a shame, really, my rendition of Disney's classic Can You Feel the Love Tonight was flawless. Of course, you guys helped too."

Everyone groaned inwardly.

"So, recap of what's happened so ( Read more... )

Chapter Two: Can You Feel The Love Tonight?

“Hey, Britt. You got a minute?”

Brittany sighed, looking away from the padlock on her locker. It was the start of the school year and she’d already forgotten her combination. “Sure.” She said blearily.

Puck chuckled. “Forgotten your combo already, Britt?”

Brittany narrowed her eyes ever so ( Read more... )

Title: Lost Letters
Author: sari_m (privatephilosopher)
Summary: Santana contemplates on her relationship with Brittany.
Rating: G
Spoilers: mentions of both seasons.

I need to write something to express how I feel about all these Season 3 rumors.

Just like all my works, this is un-beta-ed. Tell me what you think. :)

Lost Letters

by ( Read more... )

After all, the world is a much better place with Naya Rivera in it.

*          *          *

What do you guys think? I was a bit worried I’d sound like some stalker or something. xD The idea just hit me and it wouldn’t go away so I had to write it.

“Do you believe in heaven?”

It’s been two days since our moment in the choir room. It’s around six in the afternoon and we’re sitting cross-legged in the balcony of the hotel suite, picking out random people from the streets below and creating ridiculous imaginary stories of their lives. Of course, Brittany’s theories are far more creative than ( Read more... )

Chapter Eight: Not Myself

“I need you more than you'll ever know. I still do, willing to let it show.”

Silence, Aly & AJ

I snap the phone shut with a loud snap. For a short moment I just sit on the ground, thinking the information through. It’s a struggle to sort through my emotions. I have no idea how I feel, or how I should be feeling. ( Read more... )

Santana’s crying.

I watch her, at a complete loss. My mind goes on overdrive as I try to figure out why she’s sobbing so intensely. I replay the conversation in my mind, but nothing I’ve said seems particularly hurtful or overly sentimental. The only conclusion I can reach is that she’s crying because I’m offering her my pinky.

Hurt floods ( Read more... )