confused brittany

Don’t imagine Beca and Chloe’s child walking into the kitchen in the middle of the night to find the pair slow dancing in the dark to Beca’s hushed singing

One-shot: First Time for Falling

Title: First Time for Falling

Pairing: Brittana

Rating: K+

Word Count: ~3,700

Summary: Prompt: “High school Brittana going to the movies by themselves for the first time where Santana knows it’s a date but is too nervous to call it that.”

Author’s Note: Written for the BrittanaCon Prompt Project (see here). I hope the prompter forgives me ‘cause I deviated just a little bit from the prompt; Santana calls this a date, but she’s still a nervous mess about it. So.

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EVERYTHING(ish) you need to know about Brittany S. Pierce

This mostly consists of some key points to her characterization that I believe a lot of people overlook when playing her. This is in no way me telling you how to play Brittany, rather, it’s me opening my mind of 4+ years of playing the bubbly blonde to hopefully guide you into knowing how to begin to play her or get into her head if you’ve ever wanted to. I don’t get into her relationships or my preference on shipping her, I basically love Brittany and decided to write 2k+ words about her here for you to read, or not read. Like/Reblog as you feel fit.

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BrittanaCon Prompt Project - 14b


AUTHOR: themostrandomfandom (FF account)

PROMPT: High school Brittana going to the movies by themselves for the first time where Santana knows it’s a date but is too nervous to call it that.

PROMPTED BY: allthrumyribs

RATED: K+

TITLE: First Time for Falling

Word Count: ~3,700

Author’s Note: Written for the BrittanaCon Prompt Project. I hope the prompter forgives me ‘cause I deviated just a little bit from the prompt; Santana calls this a date, but she’s still a nervous mess about it. So.

_________

Santana runs her hands over another dress in her closet. A ring of discarded outfits lies scattered around her on the floor. She’s already tried on five different options, and she’s wearing number six and considering number seven. A dress is too much for the movies. She should wear jeans. But, like, nice jeans. And a nice blouse. And she should hurry up and make her decision because she still has to fix her hair and makeup, and Brittany will be here to pick her up in less than an hour, and—

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Hot in Here (Love in an Elevator)

Author: Petalene

Rating: M

Status: Completed in January 2017

Word Count: 8,188

Summary: Determined to get her OTP back together, Sue sets the mood for love in an elevator hoping it will get hot in here and Klaine will kiss. And if at first you don’t succeed, turn up the heat!In which Klaine is horny, Sue is devious, Sam is hypnotized, Rachel is confused, and Brittany is Brittany. A reimagining of the Hurt Locker part 2. Fill for the GKM.

Tropes/Genre: Voyeurism, canon!Klaine, angst, humor, romance

Lynne’s review: Wow, so ok, this is the Showtime version of the elevator scene…pretty steamy and a whole lot silly.

Read at: AO3

anonymous asked:

1iv for brittana?

From this post.

iv)     you give me a different fake name every time you come into starbucks and I just want to know your real name bc ur cute but here I am scrawling “batman” onto your stupid cappuccino

The first time she comes in, Brittany is just coming off the huge morning caffeine rush, but maybe that makes it better because she just looks up and damn, the girl in front of her is scorchingly hot. She orders a cappuccino for Jasmine. Brittany doesn’t think twice about it until she clarifies that it’s for Princess Jasmine. That makes her smile. She doesn’t know how many times she’s had to write “Voldemort” on cups, everyone thinking that they’ll get the baristas to yell out “You-Know-Who” or something like that, which she totally would have, if she hadn’t literally had at least five that day, including once when she had to request that someone pick a different name because the guy two before him had already said Voldemort.

Because the rush has petered out, Brittany gets to make the girl’s drink herself. She presses the lid on and slips it into a sleeve before handing it over. “Here you go, your highness,” she says with a mock bow. The girl laughs and gives her a regal wave before heading out the door.

It’s three days before Brittany sees her again. Most customers take a while before Brittany can remember them, but there’s no mistaking her beauty. “Jasmine?” she asks, readying a marker.

“No,” the woman says with a laugh. “It’s Diana Prince.” Her voice and something about the tilt of her chin makes Brittany think this was a test to see if she knew who Diana Prince was. Brittany didn’t know a lot about superheros, but she knows that one was. 

“Nice to meet you, Wonder Woman,” she murmurs under her breath, like it’s a secret she didn’t want anyone else to know. “If you don’t mind me saying, I always thought you’d be taller.”

The woman laughs, brief and surprised, before affecting a serious face. “Hey, now, size is no indication of ass-kicking ability,” she said, crossing her arms.

“True, true,” Brittany says, and she wants to say more, but another customer steps into line, so Brittany just writes Diana Prince on the cup and adds a star, before moving along. By the time she finishes taking the next few orders, the woman is gone.

The mystery woman is absent the next day again and Brittany is about to lose hope of seeing her before at least the third day when she strolls through the door. Her smile makes Sugar, her coworker for the day, snort. Brittany tosses a straw at her and turns to the counter. 

“Who do we have today?” Brittany asks when she makes it to the counter. 

“Jane,” the woman says and for a moment Brittany wonders again if this is her name. “The virgin,” she adds with a wink.

“Oh, really?” Brittany asks, filling out the info on the side of the cup for Sugar to make the drink. “Is that so?” She hands the cup off and smirks at the woman.

“Well, maybe,” she answers with a wink. 

Brittany is torn between so many replies, from asking this woman how she might be able to find out, but Brittany’s boss calls her into the back and she misses her chance. 

Luckily, she’s back the next day. She gives her name as Eleanor Roosevelt and they have a moment to talk while Brittany mixes her drink. She finds out that this woman works at the dinner a few blocks away and comes in before her shifts whenever she’s on lunch. She still doesn’t catch her name (or she’s too chicken to ask), though, and she still doesn’t know if she’s even here because she likes the coffee or if she likes… something else.

“Three days in a row,” Brittany says when the woman walks in the next morning. It’s becoming impossible to not know her name. She’s on Brittany’s mind every minute of the day, but with no name, she’s driving herself crazy. The woman looks a little nervous today, so Brittany tones it down a bit. “Who am I making this out to today?” she asks, hoping for a name, or at least a sign.

“Therese. Therese Belivet.”

“Oh,” Brittany breathes. “Is that Czech?” 

“Yeah,” the woman murmurs back, looking at Brittany with eyes so deeply brown that Brittany herself feels like she would know exactly what it would feel like to be flung through space. This is the sign she’s been waiting for, it has to be. Their fingers brush as she drops the changing into this woman’s hand. But before she can say anything, the woman thanks Brittany, and moves to the other counter. As soon as the coffee is in her hand, she’s gone.

The woman disappears for a whole week and Brittany is a terror to work with. Her usual sunny demeanor sours with each day that passes. She’s busy furiously scrubbing something when she hears someone come in. Quinn mutters, “Oh thank fucking God,” and that’s what gets Brittany to look up. 

It’s her, of course it is, and Brittany comes to the counter. “What name today?” she asks just a tad cooler, wary now. 

“Santana,” the woman all but whispers.

“As in Carlos Santana?” Brittany asks, confused.

“As in Santana Lopez,” she responds. “As in… me.”

“Oh,” Brittany’s speechless again, but then she smiles. “Santana is the best name you’ve given me yet.” She writes on the cup, staring at Santana  through her eyelashes as she does so. Santana blushes, but it’s sweet and pretty. Just like her.

Brittany makes her cappuccio with care and brings it to the counter. “Could I kiss you?” she asks, the words just spilling out. “That’s probably too forward. I mean–”

Brittany stops talking when Santana puts her hand on Brittany’s arm. “I would like that,” she murmurs. “But only if you take me to dinner, too.”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

Brittany leans over the counter and presses her lips to Santana’s. She tastes sweet and bitter, like the best coffee Brittany’s ever tasted. And she’s tasted a lot of coffee. 

“How will I know when our dinner is?” Santana breaths against Brittany’s lips.

“Check your cup,” Brittany whispers back. Instead of Santana’s name, she’s written her own, with her number. “Have a good shift.”

“You too,” Santana echoes. She leans in for one more kiss, just as sweet, but twice as intoxicating, before slipping out the door.

“Oooo,” Sugar starts from somewhere behind her. Brittany doesn’t even turn around, just throws a whole handful of straws at her.

Don’t imagine Chloe being all upset one night and Beca goes to comfort Chloe by holding her and singing but she accidentally sings a sad song and makes Chloe cry even more

Sportsmed!Brittana Part 3

Here we go!


Santana slammed the door to her and Quinn’s small apartment, “Brittany Pierce can go fuck herself.” She grumbled into the empty living room.

Quinn appeared from the hall way dressed only in a robe, “Santana it’s 2 am. What the hell is your problem?”

The Latina was obviously pretty drunk. Swaying as she was now standing in the kitchen hunting a beer down. “Sorry Q. I know you and the hobbit were sleeping. Apparently Brittany has a boyfriend.” Santana swung the beer in her hand around, with the container open. Spilling beer all over the floor. “We have been fucking for 3 weeks…and she has a god damn boyfriend.”

Quinn grabbed the beer out of Santana’s hand and dragged her off toward her bedroom. “Honey, I’m sorry things are messy. But if you drink anymore you are going to start crying.”

Santana just huffed out as she started to take her Jersey off, “I would not fucking cry.” She glared at Quinn, “I would not.”

The blonde could see her eyes starting to water. She knew her best friend was going to start the water works shortly. She just sighed and put her hand on the door, “Get your pamajas on and I’ll be right back.

“Fuck you, Q.” She threw her shirt off cross her bedroom. “I don’t need to be fucking babysat.” She went to step out of her pants and nearly fell on to her bed.

A few minutes later Quinn came back with some Advil, water, and some toast. “Drink the water with the toast and take 4 Advil. We can talk about Brittany in the morning when you get up.” She set them on Santana’s night stand.

“Shut up, Q.” She sighed out. She was overly annoyed and fairly irrational at this point. She at least managed to dress herself. She walked over to Quinn and gave her a small hug. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

Santana woke up to bright light and the smell of pancakes and bacon. She groaned as she rolled over to look at the clock. It was almost 11. Quinn had let her sleep in. Usually after one of her drunken stupors, her best friend will punish her with loud cleaning very early in the morning. She also assumed by the smell of bacon, Rachel must have had work this morning. Quinn was sensitive enough to not cook real bacon in the morning when the diva was there.

She grabbed her glasses off her night stand and hobbled her way into the kitchen. “Q,” She mumbled out softly before she took a seat in at the table.

Quinn just sat a cup of coffee and a plate of food in front of her, “If you don’t have a hangover yet and you eat this you might dodge the bullet.”

Santana just nodded and took her first sip of coffee. “Life would just be easier if we just married each other.” She snarled out softly.

“You’re welcome,” Quinn had known Santana long enough and well enough that that was her form of a thank you. Just not in so many words. “We would kill each other.”

The soccer player just sighed, “That’s very true.” She shoveled almost a whole pancake in her mouth, “Madye I colled be da nun.”

Quinn sat down across from her at the table and laughed, “You couldn’t be a Nun, Santana. You like sex too much. You would probably literally die without it.” She snapped a piece of bacon in half and put it in mouth, “So what is this about Brittany and a boyfriend? I feel like I haven’t really seen you since you started whatever the fuck this is.”

“Well, the night of the fundraiser was the first night anything happened.” She pushed her food around her plate and shrugged. “We were supposed to go to dinner then go to her place. But she lives like 30-45 minutes outside of the city depending on the part of town you’re in.” She took another sip of her coffee, “So we just ended up here. We didn’t even make it to dinner.”

Santana had Brittany pinned up against the wall with the blonde’s long legs wrapped around her waist. The Latina was assaulting her neck with licks, kisses, and bites. The kind that would for sure leave marks for the next day.

Brittany grabbed her chin rough, bring their faces so close that Santana had to make eye contact. “Bedroom,now.” She unwrapped her legs lowing herself down slowly, she kissed the small brunette roughly, and started to push her backwards.

Quinn just sighed, “I remember that night.” She groaned out a little and finished off her piece of bacon, “There were clothes strung from the front door to your bedroom. I still don’t know how you got her underwear across the living room and on the lampshade.”

Santana smirked a little, “It had been a while since I had gotten any. Some of us don’t have girlfriends.”

Quinn slammed her hand down on the table, “Thank god I do. I’m so glad I went to Rachel’s that night so I didn’t have to hear you guys. Brittany is loud. Anyway, go on.”

The next morning Santana woke up in bed alone. She wasn’t really surprised by that. They had talked briefly about last night just being fun and she was okay with that. No note or text message. Santana didn’t really care.

Well, she didn’t care until she got to practice and Brittany was there. The blonde basically ignored her for the 2 hours they were there. She didn’t need to be hugged, kissed, and fawned over. But a hello would have been nice.

A little later Santana overheard one of the other girls ask Brittany about the marks all over her neck. The Latina’s chest did swell up with pride a little bit at the question. But what really surprised her was Brittany’s answer.

“Well, let’s just say I haven’t had that kind of fun in a really long time,” Brittany shuffled her bag on to her shoulder and went to leave. “I really hope I can get it to happen again.”

Santana didn’t think Brittany had seen her. She was around the corner changing basically hiding from plain sight. Brittany rounded the corner just as Santana pulled her shirt over her head, she looked up and caught Brittany’s wink as she left the locker room.

“So, do you think that was a professional thing? Like her not talking to you after?” The blonde asked softly.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Santana just huffed and crossed her arms leaning back in her chair. “So I see her at practice all that week. We talked a little bit more, but nothing you know sexy. Then she texted me 2 Fridays ago pretty much out of the blue.”

Santana shoved her law book out of the way when she heard her phone vibrate. She hoped to God it was Quinn getting out of work early so they could go get a drink. Brittany came across the screen with one new message it confused her.

Round 2?

Was all the text said. Santana didn’t need to be told what it meant. She texted back Yes, when and where. She grabbed her jacket and drove the 35 minutes to Brittany’s place. She didn’t end up coming home until 4 the Saturday afternoon.

“So at this point you guys have banged twice and that’s it?” Quinn was trying to follow as Santana filled in the blanks.

“Yea, pretty much,” She sighed out, “Then that Sunday, we went out and had lunch. She acted normal all week. We made plans again for Friday. Same kind of set up, but she came here instead. That was last weekend when you went to Rachel’s parents.”

“So what happened while I was gone? I haven’t really talked to you because all of the practice you have been having for the tournament.”

Brittany knocked on the door and patiently waited for Santana to open it. “Hey, San.” She said softly before she kissed the brunette deeply.

Santana just took at the door a little stunned. Sure Brittany had kissed her like that before, but she thought they were going to have dinner before they just started fucking. She had actually cooked for them. “Hey, Britt.”

They did end up having dinner, mostly talking about school and the tournament coming up. Santana cleaned up the dishes and got them both desert. Santana was a little confused when Brittany led them to the couch for what seemed to be movie watching time. Brittany had seemed pretty quiet most of the night. Letting Santana make up most of the conversation topics.

About half way through the movie their small kissed started to turn into a very hot and heavy make-out session. Brittany had lost her shirt over the side of the couch. Santana’s hair was down and her shirt was unbuttoned to the middle.

The Latina went to un-clasp the blonde’s bra when her hands were stopped by Brittany’s. The blonde lace their fingers together and pinned Santana’s hand above her head. “This week…getting past second base might not be a good idea.” She leaned down and started to kiss Santana’s neck. “At least not for me, but I can do whatever I want with you.”

Santana was about to ask why, when it registered with her. Brittany her been kind of quite. She looked exhausted. “Do you just want to go to bed?”

Brittany looked down at her confused. She wasn’t sure what her answer should be. “Do you want me to stay?”

Santana just shrugged, “I mean, I still have a heating pad from my shoulder. I also have chocolate. If you have better options, you can go if you want.”

“Let me get this straight. You couldn’t have sex because she was on her period. She offered to give you probably a whole night’s worth of sex, at least from what you say happens between you guys,” Quinn stuck her tongue out in disgust for a second, “And you instead ask her to sleepover and offer to take care of her.”

Santana just shrugged, “I know. That was the night I really fucked myself.”

Monday afternoon, was the first time since that Santana had seen Brittany. They were in the locker room getting ready for another long practice.

Brittany was checking her bag to make sure she had everything. She walked up to Santana holding a small plate with clear wrap on it. “Hey, San.” She said softly, standing in front of the Latina.

Santana looked up from the floor, she had been lacing her new cleats.  “Hey, Brittany.”

“These are for you,” The med-student said softly, “Kind of like a thank you for the other night.”

Santana wasn’t sure how someone could be the sexiest and the cutest person on the planet rolled into one. But Brittany did pull it off. Santana took the plate out of her hand and nodded. “No problem, Britt.” Santana pulled the clear plastic back and smiled. “How did you know snickerdoodles were my favorite?”

“A little blonde birdy told me,” She grinned a little bit, “I also don’t have class tomorrow night. I know you don’t either,” She leaned down towards Santana’s ear, “I’m game if you are.”

It took as second for what Brittany had said to sink in. “I don’t have anything on the books. My place?” She asked softly.

“Yea. I like your place. I’ll be here tomorrow anyway with the tennis team,” She leaned down and kissed the soccer player on the lips softly, “I’ll see you on the field, Thirteen.”

“So what happened after that?” Quinn for once was actually enjoying Santana’s escapades. Usually she told the Latina to keep them to herself.

“Well, she came over Tuesday night. She spent the night.” Santana said softly finishing up her coffee. “I mean, you saw her that morning. I heard her talking to you right before she left.”

The blonde just nodded. “Yea, she said something about an early class that day.”

Santana rolled over early in the morning feeling the other side of her bed for Brittany. When she came up empty, she grabbed her glasses from her night stand letting her eyes adjust for a second. She felt her breath get caught in her throat. Brittany was standing in Santana bathroom, with the door open. Leaning over the counter washing her face. Santana wasn’t sure if it was the sight of Brittany’s bear ass or the fact that the shirt said Lopez across the back, but one thing was for sure. She liked it.

“You’re up early. It’s not even 8.” Santana grumbled out as she rolled to her side putting her hand under her chin.

“Some of us aren’t lucky enough to have classes at noon most of the week. I have a 10 am. I have to get home to get ready for class,” Brittany replied softly as she walked back into the bedroom throwing her hair up into a messy bun.

“I can’t help it your major requires like 5 hour classes with 8 hours worth of labs.” She teases softly batting her eyelashes at the blonde.

Brittany sat on the edge of the bed and started to pull her jeans up. “Well, you also have to do nine thousand research papers.”

Santana traced the number 13 on the back of her jersey that Brittany was wearing. “That’s my away jersey. Since the game is home this weekend,” she leaned up and kissed the back of Brittany’s neck. “You could wear it Friday if you wanted.”

Brittany tensed up a little bit. She turned to Santana offering her a small smile. “Ms. Lopez, that might get us in trouble.” She took the shirt of slowly, keeping her back towards turned Santana. “It might be seen as a little unprofessional.”

Santana just nodded. Brittany did have a good point. But that didn’t change the fact that earlier in the week the blonde had kissed her in front of half the soccer team in the locker room. “That’s very true.” She leaned back and threw her arm over her face. “Let me get dressed and I’ll walk you out.”

The bed dipped when Brittany leaned over top of Santana. “Don’t worry about it. You should go back to sleep for a little bit while you can,” She leaned down and kissed the soccer player lightly on the lips, “See you tomorrow afternoon for practice.”

She knew Brittany was about to pull away, but Santana hadn’t gotten enough yet. Her hand slowly made it’s way to the back of Brittany’s neck. She pulled her back down and bite on her bottom lip. Not wanting to waste any time, she kissed her back deeply. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t seem like she was pulling away or like trying to back off at all to me?” The short blonde said as she cleared their plates off the table.

Santana threw her hands up in the air, “I fucking know right?!” She huffed out softly and laid her head on the table. “Wednesday was normal we got a drink after, but she went home to study. She was at the game Friday. So I invited her to the party for last night.”

“And you effectively came home drunk as shit,” Quinn piped in mid-sentence.

“Yea,” Santana snapped bitterly. “She showed up with some asshole in a military uniform. Stupid fucker had a Mohawk. She said it was her boyfriend…what the fuck. Like seriously?” Santana smacked the table.

“Well, what did she say about it when you asked her?”

“That’s a fucking shit show too.” Santana huffed out as she got up from the kitchen and motioned to the living room. “You will want to sit down for the rest of this.”

Santana Lopez: I want to be with you, but I’m afraid of the talks and the looks. I mean, you know what happened to Kurt at this school.
Brittany Pierce: But, honey, if anybody were to ever make fun of you, you would either kick their ass or slash them with your vicious, vicious words.
Santana Lopez: Yea, I know, but I’m so afraid of what everyone will say behind my back. Still, I have to accept that I love you. I love *you*, and I don’t want to be with Sam, or Finn, or any of those other guys. I just want you. Please say you love me back. Please.
Brittany Pierce: Of course I love you! I do! And I would totally be with you if it wasn’t for Artie.
Santana Lopez: [confused] Artie?
Brittany Pierce: I love him, too. I don’t want to hurt him, that’s not right. I can’t break up with him.
Santana Lopez: Yes, you can! He’s just a stupid boy!
Brittany Pierce: But it wouldn’t be right. Santana, you have to know, if Artie and I were to ever break up, and I’m lucky enough that you’re still single, I’m so yours. *Proudly* so.
— 

Brittany Pierce and Santana Lopez before Klaine even got together.

Look at Brittany, such bravery she has been given from non-existent couple, much looking up to non-existing couple. She’s so totally worried about not having a place in this world. Oh, wait no, she knows they have a place and she wants to be there with Santana PROUDLY SO.

BrittanaCon Prompt Project - 7a

AUTHOR: mad-cow-mama (FF account)

PROMPT: Brittany’s Coming Out Story: it’s always been clear that Brittany has been pretty confident about her sexuality from the get go, but was this always the case? Could a middle or elementary (heck even freshman year) Brittany S. Pierce question herself?

PROMPTED BY: looking4karma

RATED: T

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A/N: 

(so this is maybe not exactly what the prompter was looking for, but it is what the prompt elicited :) – maximum thanks to youreterriblemuriel, wolfgirl, alpha of betas. It is always an honor and a pleasure to work with you. You’re the best.)

(thanks also to all you Brittanacon 2015 organizers and staff for making this opportunity to participate. Y’all rock!)

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Icicles

That slap felt like a stun gun. The whole class gasped as Santana realized what she’d done. They had no idea what Finn had done to her. But in the back, Brittany reeled from its impact, though it had not impacted her at all.

Electricity charged up and down her spine, landing, a lump, in her stomach. Santana had been lashing out plenty lately, plenty unprovoked, but Brittany knew something outside Finn’s usual shitstorm must have gone down. Santana never slapped boys. The Administration would notice. It didn’t take a genius to deduce why the Snix hit the Finn.

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