#quinntana drabble

[elysiality]

might write a quinntana drabble to pull myself out of writer's block idk

[jencey86]

Hey girl, thanks for still writing Quinntana! So here is my prompt: In season 2 Santana starts to realize her feelings for Quinn at the same she realizes that Finn is only playing with the most amazing girl she has ever met. So she decides to do what Santana does best: a good dose of revenge for Finn and beautiful love and songs for Quinn.

I had some time tonight to write something. It’s a start. I’ll use this as a stepping stone for all future writings :D I’m excited to get back into writing little short prompts like this.

xxxx

Santana sat off to the side in the choir room as she kept her eyes on Finn and Quinn. She was attempting to talk to him, but he seemed more interested in his phone then the most amazing girl in the entire school. She was happy when Schuester decided they were done for the day. “Quinn…” She called out to her best friend before she was able to get out of the room.

“I’ll see you later, babe.” The blonde ran her hand along Finn’s back some. “What’s up, San?”

The Latina rolled her eyes as Finn didn’t even bother to wait around for Quinn. “When are you going to dump him and run away with me?” She meant it jokingly… mostly. She didn’t hide her feelings for her best friend.

Quinn just laughed softly and shook her head. “You know I love him. And I’m not gay.”

“But he couldn’t give two shits about you. He was on his phone the whole time when you were trying to talk to him.” Santana walked with her best friend down toward their lockers. “Besides, you don’t have to be gay. Just have an open mind. I’ll treat you so much better the lumps the clown ever would.” She wiggled her eyebrows and swore she saw a slight blush rise to her friend’s cheeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow Quinn.” She winked at her best friend and openly let her eyes travel over Quinn’s body before she tossed her backpack over her shoulder and walked out of the school.

--Choir Room Next Day-- song “Treat you Better by Shawn Mendes”

Santana rolled her eyes as she walked into the choir room and saw Quinn and Finn in the front row together. Once again, Finn seemed totally uninterested in anything that Quinn had to say to him. She wished that her best friend could see the fact that he was using her. He was a neanderthal and wouldn’t have his social status if it wasn’t for him dating the head of the Cheerios. Even though he was the quarterback, his personality was atrocious.

“Alright guys, we’re going to start working on our Regionals-”

“Mr. Schue…” Santana spoke up, effectively cutting the teacher off.

The man looked a little confused. Santana hardly ever interrupted him for anything. “Yes… Santana?”

“I have a song I’d like to sing… if that’s okay.” She smiled smugly at her best friend when Quinn turned around to look at her.

“Sure, we didn’t have any assignment for this week though.”

“Doesn’t matter. This is what I’ve been wanting to get out there for a while now. I feel like now is as good a time as ever.” She stood up from her seat and went over to the band to tell them what she wanted. Once the music started, she turned to face the group but her eyes were only on Quinn as she opened her mouth to sing. “I won't lie to you. I know he's just not right for you. And you can tell me if I'm off. But I see it on your face. When you say that he's the one that you want. And you're spending all your time. In this wrong situation. And anytime you want it to stop. I know I can treat you better. Than he can-” She was cut off then when Finn suddenly got to his feet.

“What the hell is this?” 

Santana just smiled toward him. “Trying to get your girlfriend to realize you’re just using her.”

Finn just glared at Santana before he looked down at Quinn. “She’s full of it.”

The blonde swallowed thickly and shook her head. She looked at her boyfriend before she looked at her best friend. She hadn’t expected Santana to do that in front of everybody. Without a word, she gathered her things and got up to leave the room.

Finn didn’t go after her.

Santana did.

The Latina rushed down the hallway after her best friend. “Quinn! Quinn, wait.” She called out to her.

The blonde stopped in the middle of the hallway and looked back at the other girl. She should have known Finn wouldn’t have followed her. He never seemed to care when she was upset or hurt by anything. But Santana always did. Santana was always there. “He’s… not coming is he?” She asked softly as she looked at the floor. Everything was starting to finally sink in for her.

“No, he’s not. He just watched you go.” 

Quinn took a deep breath before she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Santana. “I… I need to break up with him.”

“You should just slap him in the face in front of everybody.”

“I’m not going to hit him.”

“I didn’t mean literally. Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to him getting a well deserved bitch slap.” Santana rested her hands on Quinn’s hips and smiled softly to her. “Does this mean I can take you out on a date now? Ya know, like you should have accepted months ago. He’s an oaf that’s been using you for his own image. He has no personality.”

Quinn just shook her head and couldn’t hold her smile. “This is new to me… so be patient with me. I do care about him.”

“Don’t know why.” She leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to Quinn’s cheek. She didn’t want to push the girl, but she just wanted to show her how much she truly cared about her.

Quinn sighed softly and nodded some. She stayed close to Santana, but didn’t keep contact with her. There was so much running through her mind at that moment. When they went back into the choir room, Finn got up and approached them.

“What was that shit, Santana?” He glared at the Latina instead of worrying about his girlfriend.

Quinn stepped between them before Santana could open her mouth. “She’s right. You’ve never cared. You just wanted to be the quarterback that dated the head cheerleader. I was just blind to it because I thought you were cute. She’s always been right though.” Quinn shook her head some to him. “Go back to playing on your phone, Finn. You obviously have always cared more about that then me anyway.”

Santana just smirked at him before she took Quinn’s hand to lead her back to the seat she’d been sitting at before. She expected Quinn to pull her hand back once they were there. 

But she didn’t.

Quinn just squeezed her hand comfortingly and gave the girl a sideways glance.

Santana was anxious to see what would come from this.

[purrpickle]

different anon but you have to do one for Quinn realizing she likes Santana please I’m begging

So it was more than a two time thing.

Lifting her phone, Quinn smiled as she read Santana's text. It wasn't big - a message about making it back to New York and a complaint about the train - but Quinn still found herself remembering the ghost of her hands and the teasing, heated kiss she'd left her with that morning in bed.

It was almost like...

Sure, Quinn thought about Santana a lot. Looked forward to seeing her. But just because a text from her made her smile and her heart trip and her thighs warm - -

Quinn froze. Oh. Oh no.

[chenfordswopez]

“Sam, how many times are you going to keep asking this?” Quinn asked in frustration.

“Until you answer me. When are you going to ask Rachel out? I mean she broke up with Finn, you’re both single, and clearly into each other.” Sam insisted.

Quinn groaned, “What makes you think she’s into me? She’s straight as a line.���

“Q, did you seriously just say that? You’re supposed to be going to Yale next year yet you’re being as clueless as Finnocence.” Santana interjected, making Quinn glare at her in the process.

“Yeah I mean, I’m not exactly a rocket science but Rachel’s totally into you.” Brittany chimed in.

[bambirex]

could you write about fwb quinntana (post wedding) and how the fellow gleeks find out about their hook up/situationship

I couldn't make this into a drabble, so may I offer you some headcanons on how I think each of their friends would find out?

Brittany: it's a popular headcanon that she just knows immediately and i share the idea, because she's super close with both of them so she immediately knows something is up

Rachel: finds out on accident (probably overhears Kurt talking about it) and is super angry that she wasn't the first one to know

Kurt: like Brittany, he just knows

Blaine: Kurt tells him, probably

Sam: Quinn actually tells him and makes him swear he won't tell anyone

Tina: either Blaine or Sam breaks their promise and tell her

Artie: also told by Quinn because in my mind they remained friends (he actually keeps his promise and doesn't tell anyone)

Mike: Tina tells him

Mercedes: kinda torn between her just knowing like Kurt and Brittany or being told by Tina

Puck: Santana tells him

Sugar: accidentally walks in on them making out

Finn: is told by Rachel

[bus-ghoul]

They want to make that intuitive leap

Of all things I could have written... This is a Quinn Fabray x Nancy Wheeler ficlet/drabble. We aren't gonna call it Quancy cause that's gross.

These guys are ... not romantically compatible imo so on a soul level this is more ronance/quinntana

but they are both screamingly comphet more than any other characters I know so I'm obsessed with them

I hope someone else can enjoy my self indulgence

Quinn isn't going to let herself acknowledge it, but she has a plan.

There were calculations involved in every step of getting to this point.

But, if she thinks too much about the fact she's traveled over an hour and a half away to get to the nearest thing she could find to a lesbian bar, then she'd have to start thinking about other things too. Like the fact her usual choice of a long skirt has crept up to barely her mid thigh. Like the fact she had spent the hour before classes this morning filing her nails short.

What works best for Quinn to just act. She has questions she needs answered.

She walks into the bar with the confident front she's been putting on since she was 13.

There are a lot of women.

Not that is is surprising, the Facebook post advertised 'Ladies night', but it's...weird and distracting so have no men in sight.

No one she would assume was a man anyway... There are people here she wouldn't know how to address.

The thought jolts her.

The first person to smile at her as she walks towards the center of activity has bright pink hair, cropped into a short mullet. They are wearing a white singlet that clings to their body, and their chest looks flat. Quinn tenses with anxiety that's a lot like curiosity.

The pink haired person is dancing with a crowd and turns away to laugh with one of them, so Quinn redirects to the bar.

There's a seat next to a girl her age towards the far end of the room.

She's pretty, Quinn thinks, petite. She's wearing some high-waisted trousers and a top cropped in a way that leaves a couple of inches of her back exposed where she leans forward on her stool. Her hair is dark, curly. Quinn pulls back the adjacent stool.

"What are you drinking?" She asks.

The girl next to her looks up. She looks surprised to see Quinn next to her, she thinks, but that might just be her eyes. They're wide and dark and searching in a way that makes her feel exposed before they've even really talked, but she smiles at her and leans back, straightening up.

"It's actually called a gold star" she tells Quinn, her voice drawling slightly. "I couldn't tell you what's in it, I just ordered the one that sounded least perverted".

Quinn smiles back.

"Would you recommend it?"

"If you want something that tastes good, no, but it's the cheapest cocktail on the menu and it'll get you drunk fast". The girl cocks her head and smiles at her again.

There's something in her eyes that makes Quinn prickle. Like this girl is trying to see more than she is currently allowed.

It is not part of how this is going to go.

"What's got you drinking to get drunk?" She asks, conversationally, as if she isn't asking to gain ground.

The girl looks at her, considering, for a moment. Her brows raise. "You want to have sex." She responds, cooly.

Quinn's mouth drops open for a second, before she snaps it shut. She had intended to be bold but she isn't sure how they arrived here after all of 30 seconds.

"Going to ask my name first?", she asks casually watching the other girl carefully.

"Don't need to, Quinn"

The build up to get herself to this point had involved resigning herself to a commitment of being steadfast, stubborn and determined in the face of overwhelming discomfort but that comment about sends her into fight or flight, before the girl gestures to the ID she is twirling between her fingers.

Quinn let's out the breath she's holding silently, through her nose, and flags the bar tender, ordering by pointing at random to the cocktail board.

"Why do you think that's why I'm here?" She asks in the tone she hopes is casual.

"You've come to a lesbian bar night alone and talked to the first single girl you saw" the curly haired girl supplies, looking at Quinn carefully. "Nancy, by the way.".

"Nice to meet you Nancy." Quinn responds flatly. "Want to share why you're here alone?".

Nancy raises an eyebrow at her and Quinn feels a rush of frustration. This is not nearly as simple as it is with boys. She's actually sure if she's closer to fighting this girl or flirting with her.

"I think I might be in love with someone, a friend. A girl" Nancy explains, looking back at her drink at the same time the bar tender slides Quinn hers. "It's confusing. I don't know if we're just really close and I'm not good at that so I'm misunderstanding my feelings, or... I don't know if she thinks of me... like that . I just don't know much about this. So I came here to learn."

"Hands on learner?" The bold question slips out before she can catch it but she feels a tingle of satisfaction when Nancy faintly blushes.

"Hmm, just very thorough." Nancy smiles again. "Have you been with a girl before?".

Quinn tapers down the instinct to balk at that, this girl has been honestly frighteningly open with her and it feels like something mutually satisfactory can come from this.

"Yes." She states. "A friend... we had a casual... encounter". Quinn looks up at Nancy, who's listening intently, and prays she never sees her again after tonight. "I can't stop thinking about it, about her. I've never...it's never been like that before."

Nancy asks softly, "How did it happen?".

"We were at a wedding. I'd broken up with another awful guy and I just wanted something. She was there and willing and I trust her. I was pretty obvious, really. Probably as obvious as just asking.".

"That won't work with mine." Nancy says, dejectedly stirring the ice left in her glass.

"I want to know if... If it was good because it was her or just because she's had a lot of experience"

"I see." Nancy nods. "Well I've never had sex with a girl so that should help answer your question".

Quinn grins. "What about your question?".

"Mine is more, will having sex with a random girl while I'm pining over my friend make me feel better?"

"I'm beginning to think my question has been answered" Quinn finds herself laughing. "This feels like a business transaction".

"Sexy for some." Nancy smiles again and her lashes flutter and Quinn experiences a similar sensation in her chest. "What do you find sexy Quinn?"

🍎🍏🍐🍑🍒🍓🥝🍍🍌🍋🍊🍉🍈🍇

An hour later, they've only had two drinks, but Quinn has lipstick on her neck and Nancy is dragging her somewhere private and she's more happy and excited that she has ever felt with a guy ever.

She tries not to think about how gay Santana would say that is.

[amazonworrier]

wait wait! last one for quinntana haha. maybe a short drabble. do they have pet names for each other? hmm, they strike me as the couple to call each other their government name quite often

haha ok... I'll throw this in with another Quinntana prompt. I feel like 90% of the time they just call each other by their names, but I could see Santana throwing in a sarcastic Lucy Q from time to time, or even just a stern Lucy when the situation demands. Lopez & Fabray probably get tossed around from time to time too. They're like secret agents.

Be warned I hate literally all of the shortened name variations for Santana that I see in fics so I'm a little biased there haha. The only one I've ever used is the one she gives herself in canon which is Tana. But even then, I can't see Quinn using it unless she's preoccupied and needs her voice for other things...

[rudefemblinkgene]

i wrote a quinntana fic from a prompt

if you want to have a drabble like this from me, send a prompt,

this is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311340

[hope-mikaelson]

Hope conjures her patronus  - an untitled Hizzie drabble

I was writing this as part of a massive AU headcanon/RP plot I wrote with @quinntanas. I just wanted to surprise her because this was in my head and she’s asleep. So some of it might not entirely make sense to all of you but I figured I’d post it here if you wanted something about as close to fluff as I’ll ever write. 

All you really gotta know for background is this follows two years after the Triwizard tournament AU she and I came up with. Lizzie and Hope are out of school now training to be aurors after there was a death eater uprising. 

It’s mostly Hope’s POV cuz when we RP I write Hope and Liz writes Lizzie. 

If she’s said the words once, Hope has said them a thousand times; I’m okay, I’ve moved on, I’ve accepted it. I’m fine. But if there’s one universal truth to magic it’s that it never lies. Maybe she could fool the Hogwarts student body when she was there. Maybe she can fool her friends and the ministry and even Alaric now. Hope has always been a skilled puppet master in that sense. She can fool anyone, sometimes even Lizzie, often even herself. But she can’t fool Magic.

It’s been nearly two and a half years since the Triwizard tournament that changed the course of the modern wizarding world. The same tournament that brought Lizzie Saltzman into her life, furious and intense in harsh, hollow blue heels, fresh off the carriage from Beauxbatons. She still trains too often with Alaric, she still sneaks away from the ministry to quiet rooms with her girlfriend in between, sweaty and frustrated only to return just as sweaty but a little less pent up. 

None of them will let the patronus thing go, especially not Lizzie. And Hope can’t blame her. Once upon a time Lizzie Saltzman had famously rescued her from a pack of dementors and neither of them had forgotten it. For entirely different reasons. Hope always remembers that glowing, winged white horse, Lizzie teary eyed on her knees with Hope’s robes clenched in her fists. Lizzie remembers it different. She still wakes up now and then screaming Hope’s name, shaking Hope awake or simply rousing her with the desperation in her sleeping voice. Which is why Hope has promised, as Lizzie asked, to train until she got it. Because Hope refuses to let Lizzie become an auror without her and Lizzie refuses to let Hope follow her into the ‘political hellfire that is the current state of the wizarding world’ without the shield a patronus provides.

At first, she’d done this with Lizzie, practicing over and over into the morning hours to no avail. Hope would take deep breaths and close her eyes and Lizzie would run her hands over her shoulders, with assurances that ranged anywhere from bossy and coaching to gentle and cautious. It always ended with Hope defeated and even more quiet than usual. Or frustrated an explosive. The kind that could only be solved running in the woods and not in the other ways they’d gotten so used to. 

Now, she’s moved on to practicing with Alaric, afraid of the toll it was putting on things with Lizzie. Hope can’t help but be frustrated. Because it should have worked. Lizzie Saltzman is the safest person she knows. All she has to do is come near her to feel the same ease they’d felt their first night together, their sudden unexpected one night stand, vulnerability and Lizzie’s hungry looking gaze, the satisfied grin on her own face the echo of Lizzie’s frustrated ‘I’m going to be really annoyed at you tomorrow.’ All she has to do is stand in the same room as her to remember watching her dance at the Yule ball, the moment Hope knew it wasn’t friendship or loyalty in her chest but something more. All she has to do is feel Lizzie’s hands on her shoulders to remember each of their exchanged vulnerabilities, all of the ways they were the same underneath it all, the first time they’d held hands under their robes, sweet and real despite the impending terror of the world around them, the pleased, proud smile on Lizzie’s face when she’d busted out an entire collection of research because Hope had mentioned maybe tying each other up for fun... one time.

“Wait -- “ 

Hope stops Alaric mid-lecture. He’s encouraging her to think of a memory, any memory. And stubbornly, for years, Hope had heard those words and begged herself to conjure a memory of her father that made her happy. Truly happy. The ministry’s auror therapist had told her that none of those memories would make her truly happy until she’d come to terms with her grief. And Hope had insisted she had but magic knew -- magic always knew. The happiness wasn’t strong enough. All of Hopes memories, for as long as she has ever had them, had always come with sadness. Until she realizes the one thing she’d forgotten. 

And Hope could kick herself it’s so obvious. 

Alaric stops, looking at her, waiting. He can probably see the odd epiphany on her face but doesn’t want to ask. “It’s not in the past,” Hope mumbles, to herself more than Alaric. He pushes with a what but she doesn’t answer. Instead, Hope sets her feet on the ground, she closes her eyes. She starts again, back at the memory of Lizzie’s hands on her shoulders just three nights before, of the room of requirement when they were kids, of that perfect day at Hogsmeade, of every night since then. Each memory comes out of it easily from there. It warms her chest and fills her with the very thing she’s looking for; happiness, so unfamiliar and so much so that Hope nearly cries. Clearing her throat, she covers the choking sound it makes with the shouted words of the spell she’d been too terrified to embrace for years. “Expecto Patronum!”

She shouts it so loudly, and with so much confidence that Hope is sure they can hear it in every other office in the ministry. The image of Lizzie and her patronus plays over it in her head, the sound of the same words in Lizzie’s proud inflection. And Hope is sure her mind is playing tricks on her when she opens her eyes and sees the white light, an image not entirely unlike the one Lizzie had conjured standing in front of a stunned Alaric. It’s a thestral. Hope would know the figure anywhere. But this one isn’t frightening or chilling. This one is white, glowing, warm. Hope stares at it, wide eyed with her wand extended still until it gallops away and out of sight. 

Without thinking, Hope follows it. Not to chase after it per say, but to find the happiness that brought it again. She doesn’t see the beaming look on Alaric’s face or hear him asking where she’s going. Hope just keeps running, out of his office, through the winding halls of the ministry to where Lizzie is holed up in the library, no doubt searching for a solution to this very problem. Hope doesn’t say anything when she all but pulls her out of the chair by her robes, not entirely unlike the thousand times Lizzie had pinned her or pulled her just the same. Hope kisses her still without speaking, against the books on a towering shelf, burying any questions with the desperate intensity of the gesture and her fingers refusing to let up on their grip. Her chest begins to ache, and it isn’t warmth or happiness this time it’s the sheer lack of oxygen and Hope finally releases the kiss but doesn’t let go of Lizzie. “It was you,” she whispers, breathless and heavy but the smile on her face is light and bewildered. 

“Oh no,” Lizzie stares back, wide eyed “it’s finally happened hasn’t it? You’ve lost it. Or was it my dad? Did you hit your head? Did he hit your head? I’ll stage an intervention if you’re going to start cracking up on me. I might only listen to half the things you say but I’d still like your head in one piece.”

Hope doesn’t stop her. She only shakes her head, her own lower lip tucked between her teeth to keep from grinning too much. “No -- no I did it,” she finally answers. “I finally found the right memory, ones that were really happy, ones that worked. They were of you -- It’s you Lizzie.” 

It takes a minute. No snarky, deadpan retort follows. Lizzie’s eyes change like she’s processing. Confusion to understanding to something glossy eyed and choked up. “Of course it was me. How could you not have tried that sooner?” The words are watery, entirely not serious but she has a go at humor anyway and Hope laughs all the same. Hope kisses her again, finally takes her fingers from their grip on Lizzie’s robes and wraps them in her hair instead, pulling their bodies tighter together. Lizzie kisses her back this time, far less caught off guard but still definitely reeling. 

“What was it?”  It’s Lizzie who finally breaks up their moment. 

“Huh?” 

“Your patronus. You’ve seen mine. What was yours? Wait -- no. I’ll guess. A terrier.”

Hope lightly shoves her shoulder with the palm of her hand. “Hilarious. No. It was -- “ she stops, unsure if somehow this ruins the brilliance of it, if Lizzie has eve even seen a thestral. But Hope’s certain she at least knows what they are. “It was a thestral,” she answers a little less proud. 

“No freaking way.” 

“What? Yours is a literal winged horse, Lizzie.”

“You one-upped me,” Lizzie retorts fast and scoffing. “You even had to one up my patronus.”

She’s laughing, thankfully. For a brief second Hope worries it’s not a joke. But their competitive nature is a part of them now, and Lizzie stopped measuring them against one another a long time ago. This is just a game and Hope is happy to play along. Grinning, she kisses Lizzie again, presses her back just a little harder against the bookshelf on her tip toes and closes her eyes, filing this memory away for the next time. 

[tinyarmyofqueerfolkwrites]

♕♕♕♕

♕ Daliah Puckerman & Orion Hudson (@dodierps)

Daliah was such a sweetie. Oh my god. Fucking Lena and going soft for her. Like, talk about the perfect Slytherin-Hufflepuff friendship. They could legit take over the world.

PAIN. That is the only word I have right now. Ori and Jay are pain. Like, it’s the good kind because their friendship is so important but they’re so painful and loveable and Ori makes me happy and she deserves happiness and I will get to that meme when I stop crying over it.

♕ Santana Lopez & Belle Campbell & Zariah Campbell & Amelia “Mellie” (@danquinnpezberryrps)

Okay, so this is legit gonna be ridiculous cause we’ve got 2 versions of Santana AND 2 versions of Belle. Here we go:

Quinntana: Santana is such a badass here. Like, Imma be real. Putting up with Lucy’s shit? Go her. Also, her reaction to Q being being pregant was perfect. In BOTH instances. Cause there’s 2 Quinntana verses. Honestly, loved both for different reasons but Santana is very much the same in both.

Santana/Alex: This Santana is so loving, in both a lover sense AND a mother sense. Like she kind of came into caring for Alex the way a mom-friend would and it just slowly evolved as they went along. I miss them dearly.

Belle/Alex: I love Belle’s dynamic with Alex. It’s very different than the dynamic with Santana. Belle had the history with Alex, and also Alex had shitty boyfriend history, which had Belle jealous and she was still so amazing to Alex, despite the absolute shit Alex tended to put her through.

Quinn/Belle: OH MY FUCKING GOD DO I LOVE HER. Okay, look, Belle being younger than Quinn is what makes this so amazing. Cause Belle hasn’t had the life experience Quinn has. She doesn’t understand why Quinn is so closed off but she RESPECTS it, even when things are kind of shitty, and Quinn is a bitch to her. She’s adorable and amazing and so supportive of Quinn. Like ugh, they’re cute.

Zariah is my love, okay? Like, I think, of all your characters, SHE is my favorite. She’s insecure and gentle and the fact she gets so nervous around Elena, even after all this time. And like her jealousy of Nicole even though she doesn’t need to be. UGH! I loves her.

So, Mellie is your newest with me but tbh I still love her to death. She’s such an opposite of Frankie and like they’re perfect together and I miss them SO much.

♕ Cassandra Lopez & Taylor Valentine & Alyssa Lopez (@wolfieroleplays)

BRAIN! Ugh, I love ALL our universes for them. Like, they’re all perfection. Whether it’s the original verse, the drabble verse, the resort verse, or that weird future verse that the drabble verse sort of stems from, they’re all perfect. I love her to death and how she cares for Kai and baby Alexis and *flails* I mean she is ALSO part of the reason I’m Master, so...

Ty. The other half of our twisted soulmates. Where do I start besides the fact I miss her? Like, she’s so perfect for Sable in ALL THE WRONG WAYS. It’s both sad and beautiful and so is she and so are they.

Aly. Little Miss Would Give Up The World For Val. Seriously, her protective nature, her love. It’s all amazing. She makes me happiest, I think, because she reminds me more of how you tend to look after my stupid ass, and probably would if we lived closer.

♕ Ezra Berry & Riley & Niamh ( @marchingbrave)

I love him. Carson will get to the love point. He’s precious and I want to hug him. I’m so excited that him and Carson have chemistry cause it makes me really happy to find someone for her. It also makes me hella happy that he’s a chef. I don’t know why, but it does.

Imma be real, I forget Riley’s last name, but his friendship with Charlie and Dani was literally the best. They all understood each other and like, let’s be real, he was in the wedding party, don’t know on whose side, but he totally was. I miss him. 

Niamh was so cute! Again, I’m unsure on her last name because I am trash. Oh my god the precious bean. She was so optimistic and she held some weird convos with Charlie and like I just love her. 

Bonus:

Shout out to any Artie Abrams written by @kevins-cougar

Also, someone send me more of this particular question, or others, because I like talking about my faves.

[fanfictionfaberrycentral]

that ocean could have carried us a thousand miles (& more toward home)

by possibilist

summary:

"Quinn forgets things. They tell you, reassure you, that it's just going to take some time for things to heal." or, five times quinn forgets things (& one time she doesn't). quinntana friendship, faberry. headcanon drabble. trigger warning.

[purrpickle]

Gahhh I love your Quinntana one. Tysm!! How about another for when Santana realizes she likes /likes/ Quinn

They're inside Quinn's dorm, laughing over whiskey, when Santana realizes she's more focused on the lines of Quinn's lips than the words leaving them. Oh, she's been there, more than once - it was a two time thing, after all, and not just that one time - but something about wanting to lean over and kiss her suddenly feels more. That it's not just a pair of attractive lips. That it's kissing Quinn that makes her heart trip. That it's Quinn's eyes and smile and hair falling over her cheek that makes Santana want to reach out and card and - oh god.

[purrpickle]

You also ship Quinntana? How about Quinntana confessing their feelings to each other for a Drabble :D

Santana was waiting on a bench in the garden, wineglass curled in her hand.

Plucking the glass to steal a drink before sitting next to her, Quinn grinned at Santana's huffed expletive, raising an eyebrow. "Dramatic, much? Brooding in the garden?"

Santana huffed again, swiping her glass back before settling into the bench again. She pushed her hair over her shoulder, eyes dark as they darted to meet Quinn's, studying her. Then, voice low, "We needs to talk, Q."

Swallowing her amusement, Quinn inhaled, nodding. Her heart thumped, hazel eyes meeting Santana's. Warmth burned in her chest. "...Yeah. We do."

[purrpickle]

Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #394 - Prompt from an anon: "I can’t always think of witty comebacks.”

*

"I can't always think of witty comebacks."

Catching the possible melancholy that accompanied Santana's huffed words, Rachel frowned, looking up from her magazine. Watching Santana toss her phone down and click the television on again, after a measured moment of waiting for Santana to say more, she went back to her reading.

'Wonder who she's texting?' she mused to herself, turning the page in her magazine and pushing her hair behind her ear a second later, 'Quinn, or... No, I don't think she feels secure enough about her friendship with Quinn right now to be that open.' Idly picking at a perfume sample, debating if she needed to raise it to her nose or not, Rachel glanced up again as Santana's phone vibrated.

Santana's lips quirked, dimples flashing as she pulled her phone back up. Interestingly, this time she did not pause the tv, and Rachel pretended to pay attention to the screen in case she was going to be checked to see if she was watching.

Santana's flip flop of amusement and ennui only served to confuse Rachel more. 'Unless it's a new person texting her, of course,' Rachel sighed, internally shrugging her shoulders. In lieu of asking and giving up how much she was paying attention to her roommate, after listening to Santana tap away at her phone for a few minutes, she went back to her magazine yet again.

The shift of clothing and sproing of their couch barely prepared her for the press of Santana's finger against her cheek. Rachel, startled, slapped her magazine down onto her thighs, Santana's amused, dark eyes sparkling at her.

"Just thought you should know Quinn's comin' in on the late train. Might wanna hide your shrine of her AFORES she thinks you've been pinin' for her since high school."

Trying to ignore her cheeks getting warm with indignation, Rachel jerked her head back from Santana. "I do not have such a shrine, Santana, and you know as much," she groused even as she stood up, preparing to clean her room for company. Tucking the magazine under her arm, she paused and turned back. "Is this... Are you two...?"

Santana shrugged, suddenly not looking up from the tv.

"It's fine to say if you two are letting yourselves be friendly again," Rachel encouraged patiently. Unbidden, her fingers unseen around the edges of her magazine tensed.

"Oh god. NO kumbayahs," Santana groaned, rolling her eyes before fixing Rachel with an unamused stare, "It's been a couple a months." She slowly smirked. "I gotta know if that stick up her ass has been removed."

Spluttering out a protest, Rachel, as smoothly as she could, turned on her heel and marched to her room.

'Of course,' she grumbled to herself as the blanket swung closed behind her, 'JUST like Santana, making me not know how to feel.'

Her magazine slapped down onto her bed.

'UGH!'

[purrpickle]

Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #297

“Wait, you’re telling me you, in an attempt to break Quinntana up to get Quinn for yourself, seduced Santana to break up their relationship? All because you thought it would somehow make Quinn attracted to you - make her fight to see what made you so irresistible - or whatever sounded reasonable in your desperate, out of your mind, repressed mind?”

“I know it doesn’t make sense - ”

“You bet your Limited Edition Barbra Streisand record collection it doesn’t make sense! But, no, wait, you know what really doesn’t make sense now?”

“Kurt - ”

“That you’ve decided that, after ruining their relationship and somehow, actually, getting Quinn interested in you while Santana roils and rages and licks her wounds by running between another blonde cheerleader’s gazelle legs - that you want her, not Quinn, anymore?”

Stopping with her mouth open, tears pricking in her eyes, Rachel inhales, sobs out, and shakes her head, unable to answer.

[purrpickle]

Random Pezberry Thought of the Day #251

Santana’s in a friends with benefits relationship with Quinn, Rachel’s roommate. Getting to know the woman during the times she’s waiting on the blonde or coming out of the bedroom in the morning, Rachel finds her extremely caustic and cocky - something a drunk Quinn has mumbled about how she’s warranted it, due to her performance in bed - but also extremely, despite herself and in rare moments, charming.