ficlet: Cabbage slices
Title: Cabbage slices
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
Summary: Sometimes, when the weather is not too cold and not too hot, Brittany eats thin slices of cabbage.
Spoilers: None
Rating: G
AN: Honestly, I'm not sure where this came from, I just wanted to take a break and write a short drabble or something and this came out. It doesn't actually have much sense, except for fluff's sake. In fact, I'm not even sure why I picked cabbages instead of other vegetables. Probably because of the crunch...
On a side note: I've noticed that it is a sort of fanon established thing that Brittany's kisses taste like oranges (well, more like I've read it in a couple of fics), so I've decided I'm sticking to the tradition because it's a cute thing and because fanon!Brittana is too amazing.
Cabbage slices
Sometimes, when the weather is not too cold and not too hot, Brittany eats thin slices of cabbage. They make a weird, crunching noise against her teeth as she pops them into her mouth mechanically, like some sort of assembling machine.
The first time Santana sees Brittany munching on a piece of cabbage, she asks what is she eating. The second time, the third, she asks again, because she forgets, and because people don’t eat raw cabbage on strips. The fourth time she’s about to ask, then she remembers.
She doesn’t like cabbage, or most vegetables for all it matters. When she kisses Brittany, she has a strange taste in her lips, something between the scent of wet grass and the bitterness of un-sugared tea. It’s a change from the usual tang of oranges and buttered toast that she’s used to relate to Brittany, but it’s not bad. It beats the sour cream and gum from Puck, and the green Skittles and salty bacon from Finn.
“Why are you eating that?”, she asks once.
“Why not?”, Brittany says, biting yet another slice of cabbage, her cheeks full and her eyes dreamy, as they always are. And then there’s only the perpetual crunch coming from her mouth, her hand travelling routinely from the plate to her mouth.
“Why do you like cabbage?”, she asks another time.
“Why not?”, Brittany says, the crunching noise growing louder and louder, and Santana feels like she should give it a try, even if she doesn’t like it.
Every time Brittany eats cabbage, she’s bound to day-dream more than on regular days. Santana feels a bit left out, but she scolds herself for that, because it’s not like she’s leaving her to hang with someone else; Brittany’s there, she’s just strolling along a labyrinth made of cabbage strips.
Then, the weather turns too cold or too hot again, and Brittany comes out of the maze and kisses Santana, maybe because she’s happy she's found the exit or maybe because she’s sad there’s no more cabbage left. But each kiss tastes a lot like oranges and buttered toast, and a bit like wet grass and tea, and each kiss is strong and heavy, like that of a sailor who has finally found his compass and is heading home after a long journey. Sometimes, when it’s late at night and she is too tired to think it is stupid to feel that way, Santana is thankful for cabbages.
Fandom: Glee
Pairing: Brittany/Santana
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine.
Summary: Sometimes, when the weather is not too cold and not too hot, Brittany eats thin slices of cabbage.
Spoilers: None
Rating: G
AN: Honestly, I'm not sure where this came from, I just wanted to take a break and write a short drabble or something and this came out. It doesn't actually have much sense, except for fluff's sake. In fact, I'm not even sure why I picked cabbages instead of other vegetables. Probably because of the crunch...
On a side note: I've noticed that it is a sort of fanon established thing that Brittany's kisses taste like oranges (well, more like I've read it in a couple of fics), so I've decided I'm sticking to the tradition because it's a cute thing and because fanon!Brittana is too amazing.
Cabbage slices
Sometimes, when the weather is not too cold and not too hot, Brittany eats thin slices of cabbage. They make a weird, crunching noise against her teeth as she pops them into her mouth mechanically, like some sort of assembling machine.
The first time Santana sees Brittany munching on a piece of cabbage, she asks what is she eating. The second time, the third, she asks again, because she forgets, and because people don’t eat raw cabbage on strips. The fourth time she’s about to ask, then she remembers.
She doesn’t like cabbage, or most vegetables for all it matters. When she kisses Brittany, she has a strange taste in her lips, something between the scent of wet grass and the bitterness of un-sugared tea. It’s a change from the usual tang of oranges and buttered toast that she’s used to relate to Brittany, but it’s not bad. It beats the sour cream and gum from Puck, and the green Skittles and salty bacon from Finn.
“Why are you eating that?”, she asks once.
“Why not?”, Brittany says, biting yet another slice of cabbage, her cheeks full and her eyes dreamy, as they always are. And then there’s only the perpetual crunch coming from her mouth, her hand travelling routinely from the plate to her mouth.
“Why do you like cabbage?”, she asks another time.
“Why not?”, Brittany says, the crunching noise growing louder and louder, and Santana feels like she should give it a try, even if she doesn’t like it.
Every time Brittany eats cabbage, she’s bound to day-dream more than on regular days. Santana feels a bit left out, but she scolds herself for that, because it’s not like she’s leaving her to hang with someone else; Brittany’s there, she’s just strolling along a labyrinth made of cabbage strips.
Then, the weather turns too cold or too hot again, and Brittany comes out of the maze and kisses Santana, maybe because she’s happy she's found the exit or maybe because she’s sad there’s no more cabbage left. But each kiss tastes a lot like oranges and buttered toast, and a bit like wet grass and tea, and each kiss is strong and heavy, like that of a sailor who has finally found his compass and is heading home after a long journey. Sometimes, when it’s late at night and she is too tired to think it is stupid to feel that way, Santana is thankful for cabbages.