#being given too much grace it's actually pretty cold. it's not on mike OBVIOUSLY but like girl what

[maddy-ferguson]

i think bylers are so close to getting the 'mlm shippers hate the female character getting in the way of their ship' title if they try a little bit harder. the amount of bs takes i have seen here is really just... something else. trying to portray el as an abuser and saying she forced herself on mike when mike didnt want it, and then blaming her for everything that exist in mlvn's relationship as if mike wasn't a participant in it, blaming el for lying even though mike has also been lying to her and is still lying (which is a popular take in byler community so make it make sense)? and this on top of it ppl wanting mike to have never loved her at all and wanting him to break up with her. the whole thing is just not great, lol, it is sounding like steve or billy fans who shit on nancy and the thing is el didn't even do anything actually, whereas you could maybe argue nancy didnt handle the breakup and relationship with steve or problems with jonathan that well.

well we already all have that title but i think you mean bylers are so close to earning it and i don't exactly disagree lmao.

i think it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. people are afraid of being called misogynists so they preface everything they say about el with "i love el. because i love women. i'm not a misogynistic mlm shipper." or something to that effect and then everyone gets sick of having to say this (even though no one forced anyone like the people who have decided that we all collectively hate el are not reading these posts and if they are saying that will not change their minds) and think that everyone in this part of the fandom worships el like mlvns and redditors do when there was actually always el criticism like when was there ever anti-el sentiment censorship. i don't remember it. people were making i love el BUT posts 35 times a day. so yeah everyone gets sick of having to do that even though they didn't really...have to and then they go um since no one wants to say this i will. el is not a good girlfriend to mike. no one wants to say this because she was raised in a lab for the first twelve years of her life and doesn't know anything about social norms. like YEAH thank you for pointing that out we really hadn't noticed. that's why she shouldn't be in that relationship in the first place lmao.

people who think mike should never expect to have a relationship of equals with her because she still needs to be taught things he learned in the first twelve years of his life so expecting her to give him a big speech about how she loves him back or to give him a gift like he did at the airport isn't fair (redditors. they've said that) are missing the point that if the relationship can't be good because el is learning how to navigate the real world in real time as she's dating mike...then she shouldn't have been in a relationship in the first place because it's literally bad for her too. and when bylers make posts about how mike should get to break up with her because he's had no agency in the relationship...are you implying that mike has had less agency than the girl he introduced the concept of a relationship to who thought he was gonna be her brother and who didn't know how to tell what she liked for their first six months of dating. it's not a competition but if it was el would be winning it.

i know societal pressure is a thing but was lucas forcing mike to win el back at like gunpoint? i know mike probably feels like he owes it to el to be a good boyfriend for whatever reason like he promised they'd go to the dance together in season one and he's a paladin and they don't break their promises and he's gay and it's the 80s but god. he didn't want to say i love you in el's bedroom and he didn't he's not staying in this relationship until he's 40 she's not forcing him to do anything. he tried to win her back and said he loved her and she later kissed him and said she loved him back. could he not have said damn that sucks el i don't know if i actually want to get back together now :/ lmao like he didn't because it's a story and again the gay thing and she'd just lost her dad and everything else you can say to explain why he wouldn't want to say damn el i actually don't want to get back together now. but how is her saying she wants to be with him again TOO and him not saying he doesn't want to ANYMORE him not having agency. the only time you could argue his agency was taken from him is when will said you're the heart because el was dying lol. and even then he could've said anything so like he still had agency. or he didn't because it's a story but you get my point. a lot of it is self-inflicted a lot a lot and him feeling pressured to be in a relationship with el doesn't come from her pressuring him lmao. so i get wanting him to get himself out of it to a degree but if we're saying the one who has the least agency should get to "break free"? it's not mike.

#'el gets too much grace' i don't think mike being like no you're not getting a brother you're gonna be my girlfriend after a week of #calling her a weapon and making her use her powers to find his friend which was giving her ptsd flashbacks every five minutes is el #being given too much grace it's actually pretty cold. it's not on mike OBVIOUSLY but like girl what #it's not as bad as i just said because they formed a connection it's not as cynical but on some level it is #i'm thinking about something robin pinkeoni posted a while ago i'll look for it maybe #forgot to say: if mike deserves grace for being gay then el deserves more grace for everything she's been through lmao which doesn't mean #mike should be in a relationship that's bad for him but it's bad for el too like they both deserve to not be in it #and also deserve leniency for being 14 etc that goes without saying #ask

[echoes-of-realities]

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 2/25

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[Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter] // [Next Chapter]

Chapter Summary: Rachel still doesn’t quite understand what an understudy is despite the fact that she is one; Brittany gets caught blushing far more often than she’s used to.

Chapter 2: there were sweeties and chocolates and toys and lights

//

The matinee goes far more smoothly than most people thought it would, but it’s not that it went well that surprises Brittany, it’s that people thought it wouldn’t. She doesn’t really make it a habit to listen when the company gossips, partly because there’s always a lot of mean gossip surrounding her and Mike and Tina since they’re all principals and Brittany just prefers to ignore it all, and partly because Mercedes always keeps her well informed anyways, usually when she’s changing Brittany into her costume or helping with her hair and makeup and Brittany has no choice but to listen. She when she hears people marvelling at how well Santana’s handled the show, despite the fact that she was literally only hired two days ago, she’s more than a little surprised that people are surprised.

She’s comfortably close with Quinn and Artie, not enough that they seek each other’s company outside of the show, but enough that she doesn’t mind having lunch with them between shows. And it’s because she doesn’t mind having lunch with them that she knows Santana Lopez is more than qualified to run the show, maybe too qualified if the copy of her resume Artie snuck them was anything to go by; and beyond that, she knows that Tina and Mike trust her completely, so she was never too worried about the change in production stage manager. Based on the complete and utter surprise of most people as they file into one of the larger rehearsal room for a quick meeting, Brittany realizes that she’s in a minority.

She spots Mercedes and Sam giggling together and blushing, so she heads over to them and collapses onto the floor beside them. None of the children are at the meeting, they’re all getting lunch with their parents and friends before the show at five, and though the meeting isn’t mandatory for the teenagers, there’s a couple of them gossiping in a corner. The entire rest of the company and all of the department heads, along with most of their departments too, are squished into the room. The mirrors lining the walls make it look like there are even more people than there actually are, and Brittany knows how nerve-racking it can be to stand in front of so many people with the mirrors multiplying them tenfold, but Santana looks calm and collected as her and Quinn break away from the small team of stage managers and stagehands in the corner to address the room.

It’s a typical meeting, and they go over some minor changes that Santana’s suggested to make backstage less congested during a couple scene changes, and despite the slight grumbling throughout the company, who like their routines perhaps too much, Brittany finds herself nodding along. They’re all changes that Brittany can easily see making the flow backstage so much smoother, and she briefly wonders why they haven’t always been doing it, but then she remembers their old production stage manager and how absentminded Holly can sometimes be and she’s not all that surprised. Their old production stage manager was a little all over the place, to say the least, and while Holly is an amazing director, but she doesn’t quite have the focused, meticulous, mechanical brain needed for stage managing. It’s refreshing to have a production stage manager that, despite having stepped foot in the theatre for the very first time about forty-eight hours ago, obviously seems to know what she’s doing.

The topic changes as Santana and Quinn address some of the dance corps, and Brittany finds herself tuning out of the conversation in favour of staring at Santana. She should probably be paying attention, but Santana does this cute little furrowed brow thing when someone interrupts her and Brittany kind of wants to smooth it out. She also talks with her hands a lot, and Brittany finds her eyes drawn to the movement of her arms as she gestures around or fiddles with her notebook. She’s completely lost to admiring Santana’s quiet grace in her movements when dark eyes catch on hers suddenly and something jolts up her spine, starting near her tailbone and tingling up towards the base of her skull as she sits up a little taller. She thinks maybe Santana’s just scanning the crowd and Brittany happened to see her when she glanced in Brittany’s general direction, but Santana’s eyes linger unmistakably on hers and it makes heat crawl, hot and prickling, under her skin until she’s pretty sure she’s blushing all the way down to her bellybutton. It’s been a very long time since Brittany got caught staring at a pretty girl, and she desperately pretends that her complexion doesn’t allow everyone to see exactly how fiercely she’s blushing.

Mercedes nudges her with her arm, smirking deeply as she glances between Santana and her, and Brittany curses herself for getting caught staring not just by Santana, but by her best friend as well. She’s pretty sure that she hasn’t felt this embarrassed to be caught staring at a girl since she was only questioning her sexuality in high school, and it doesn’t help that she knows that Mercedes is going to give her the third degree and relentlessly tease her as soon as they’re alone in her dressing room before the evening show. Mercedes continues to smirk at her even as Brittany resolutely refuses to acknowledge her; the worst thing about this is that she won’t even be able to escape from her best friend’s teasing after she leaves the theatre considering that Mercedes’ bedroom is about fifteen feet from her own.

She refocuses on the conversation as soon as she feels like she’s not about to burst into flames and Santana is asking if there’s any questions. Quinn winces beside her, as does half the company, while the only person who ever has ‘questions’ shoots her hand into the air, almost before Santana finishes talking. A wave of stifled groans goes through the company as Santana points at Rachel, whose arm is ramrod straight; Brittany’s been in ballet for almost as long as she’s been walking, and even her posture isn’t as straight as Rachel’s arm when she has a question.

“Yes, I was wondering if you have given any thought to changing the cast lineups to include more of the under-appreciated talent in this room. I would be willing to offer—”

“I’m sorry,” Santana interrupts, looking politely annoyed, “You are?”

Rachel draws herself up with an affronted air, and this time the company doesn’t try even hide their collective groan. “Rachel Berry, Marie’s understudy. I’m sure you’ve heard of me already.”

Santana glances at Quinn in barely concealed confusion, but Quinn just widens her eyes and subtly shakes her head.

“My talents, and I am sure you must be well aware of them, are wasted unless I am on stage in the spotlight,” Rachel continues without prompting. “My star shines too bright and it is a misuse of my talents to keep them hidden away in a lowly understudy roll—”

“Do you— Do you know what an understudy is?” Santana asks, her bewildered tone completely betraying her polite expression.

“Of course I know what an understudy is,” Rachel says haughtily, “As I’m sure everyone here knows, I was on Broadway in the prestigious revival of Funny Girl.”

“Yeah, for like a second,” Brittany mutters. Beside her, Mercedes and Sam snort and choke back their laughter.

Rachel continues to ramble, and Santana continues to look adorably baffled before she finally blinks out of her daze. “Look,” she interrupts loudly, waiting until Rachel awkwardly trails off, “I didn’t do the casting, I have no clue how well you dance, but I trust that Holly casted the correct people for the job, and I’m more than certain Tina’s earned her spot. And besides that, I have nothing to do with Tina’s ability to perform on any given day, and unless she calls in sick or injured, you will not be going on as Marie. As is standard of any understudy.”

“Yes, but—” Rachel starts. Brittany meets Tina’s eyes across the heads of people, and the pure, unfiltered annoyance in them as she rolls them at Brittany makes her bite down, almost painfully, on her lip so she doesn’t giggle too loud.

“No buts,” Santana says, her voice slowly growing more curt and clipped, “this is how shows are run. You are the understudy, you only go on if the principal cannot. Shows have done this for like, literally, a century. And I don’t know why you don’t know this, or why you seem to think I don’t understand how theatre works and will just put you on whenever you feel like it. But I have a feeling you aren’t going on unless Tina comes down with the bubonic plague.”

Rachel continues to argue, starting to criticize Santana’s running of the show and her experience, and as Rachel starts to move on to Santana’s personal character, Brittany can tell Santana is starting to lose the calm, collected exterior she’s had all meeting. Brittany leans back in her chair and surveys the room, sensing the rest of the company starting to shift around and glance at each other, and waiting for her opening. Sure, she hates Rachel as much as the next sane person, and she’s usually really good at just zoning her out, but she forces herself to pay attention to whatever is coming out of Rachel’s mouth because Santana’s far too cute to lose her temper in front of the entire company on just her second day.

The next time Rachel takes a breath to continue her rambling, Brittany tilts her head and dons her practiced look of confusion. “Does anyone else hear that? It sound like a cat getting its temperature taken,” she calls, just loud enough to be heard by the company, “All I can hear is screaming.”

There’s a small wave of chuckles that go throughout the room, and a small wave of oh it’s just Brittany being Brittany eye rolls too, but it shocks Rachel enough that she stops talking, her mouth freezing half open. Quinn takes the moment to quickly clap her hands together and dismiss everyone, and Rachel’s complaints are lost to a crowd of people quickly standing and trying to escape the room.

Brittany barely notices, because Santana’s amused and relieved dark eyes have landed on hers, and Brittany’s stomach flips over as Santana offers her a small smile, mouthing thank you across the room.

Santana has dimples and her nose scrunches up when she smiles, and Brittany’s pretty sure she’s already a goner.

//

The evening show goes even better than the matinee, and though there’s some slight confusion at the top of the first act, by the time intermission rolls around the backstage traffic is far less congested than usual thanks to Santana’s suggestions. Brittany can’t help the touch of smugness that colours her smile as she heads back to her dressing room while she listens to the gossip, which has changed from how surprised everyone is with Santana not completely failing to how impressed they are with her improvements. Sure, it’s not like the changes were Brittany’s own ideas or anything, but she feels like one of the only people who never doubted Santana for a second, and she’s proud that Santana’s proved them all wrong in less than twelve hours.

As soon as she reaches her dressing room, Mercedes is already there waiting for her. She helps Brittany out of her costume and tiara, before carefully unpinning her hair even though she doesn’t have to, while Brittany fights to peel her bodysuit and tights off, tossing them in the general direction of her tiny closet before carelessly peeling off the tape around her toes and dunking her feet in the bucket of ice by her couch. She hisses at the instant relief, and Mercedes just laughs and shakes her head.

“I gotta drop Sam off at his apartment a little early today,” Mercedes says, “Do you want me to swing around and pick you up after?” Brittany nods quickly; she ices her feet after almost every show, but the cold never fails to shock her body and steal her ability to speak. Mercedes tosses her the sweater she wore to the theatre, and Brittany quickly pulls it over her head, shivering as the cold seems to creep along her veins. Mercedes starts to head for the door, but suddenly stops and glances back at Brittany with a wicked smile. “Don’t think you’re getting out of talking about what happened at the meeting today, Britt-Britt,” she teases. Brittany groans and, despite the cold, she feels heat crawl under her skin again. Mercedes chuckles at her and waves her goodbyes as leaves, leaving the door cracked open. As soon as she’s gone, Brittany leans forward for her phone, quickly lighting it up to check her messages. There’s a couple promotional emails and a notification from instagram, but nothing from her mom, and she has to remind herself that no news is good news.

Movement from the hallway catches her eye and Brittany glances at the door, only spotting a flash of black as someone walks past. She briefly hopes it’s Santana, partially because she wants to talk to her and congratulate on the shows today, and partially because she wants to feel that same bright lifting feeling she did last night when she showed up in her dressing room doorway, but mostly because she has something to give her.

As soon as her teeth start chattering she realizes that the ache of cold has been replaced by the numb feeling that means she probably left her feet in the ice too long, and she quickly draws them out to dry them and pull on her warmest pair of socks. She takes her time wiping her makeup off and slipping into her comfiest and most worn pair of sweats just as she hears a knock at the door. She calls her invitation and hears the door creak open as she turns to greet her visitor, fighting down the flash of hope that curls beneath her sternum, which proves fruitless when she sees that it is Santana standing there just like she hoped. She’s wearing a cute leather jacket, a red scarf looped loosely around her neck, looking ready to head home for the evening, but what really catches Brittany’s attention is the small smiling playing on Santana’s lips.

“No banging shoes tonight?” Santana asks in lieu of greeting.

Brittany grins. “Wasn’t on the schedule,” she replies with a teasing shrug, “I didn’t work them too hard tonight.” Santana grins and hovers in the doorway, and it’s only then that Brittany notices the notebook in her hands. “You doing notes tonight?” she asks.

Santana starts a little and blinks away her surprise, seeming a little surprised by the notebook in her hands for a moment before she recovers. “Oh, god no, I just came down to see Tina quickly,” she laughs, “I barely had time to breathe during the show, let alone focus on doing any notes.” She holds up the notebook with a small smile. “Tina just gave me this in celebration of my first official show. It’s kind of a tradition.”

Brittany grins. “That’s cute,” she says. “It must be nice having people at the theatre you already know.”

Santana nods and her smile turns fond and a little nostalgic. “Tina and I were roommates all throughout college,” she explains, “And then she started dating Mike in our third year, and they’ve been nauseating adorable and loved up ever since.”

“They’ve been dating for that long?”

Santana laughs, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh yeah. If you think they’re bad now, you should have seen them when they just had crushes on each other through our second year. Adorable? Absolutely. Annoying oblivious? Definitely.” Brittany giggles. Tina and Mike are the most stable couple she knows, inside the company and out, but now she kind of wishes she could have known them before they got together. “They’ve been my best friends ever since,” Santana says, and though she rolls her eyes a little Brittany can see the fondness crinkling her eyes and tugging at her lips.

“That’s sweet,” Brittany says.

Santana shrugs a little and brushes it off with an embarrassed, “Yeah, well,” before straightening up a little. “Are you heading out soon?” Brittany barely has time to blink before Santana gets this bright, breathless, wide-eyed look and she starts talking again. “I mean— Because I’m on my way and Tina’s already gone so. I figured I’d check with you and— You know, see if you needed company,” she finishes lamely.

Brittany’s not quite sure if there’s a more adorable person on the planet, and she quickly assures Santana that, yes, she was just leaving too. She gathers her coat and shrugs it on, tugging a hat over her ears and sliding into her sneakers before heading to the door, collecting her wallet and phone from the coffee table on her way. Santana takes a step backwards down the hall to let Brittany out and she dig her keys out of her jacket pocket so she can lock the door.

She’s just about to turn the key when she remembers the whole reason she was hoping Santana would stop by in the first place. “Wait!” she says suddenly, shoving the door back open with a little more enthusiasm than strictly necessary, the sound of the doorjamb protesting the harsh movement echoing throughout the dressing room. “I have something for you!”

Santana watches her curiously from the doorway as she rummages around on the vanity in the dark until her fingers close around what she was looking for. She quickly crosses the room again, and Santana steps out into the light of the hallway while Brittany hides her tiny gift behind her back. “I, uh, saw this today and I got it so, um, so you have something to remember your first official show by,” she rambles, quickly biting onto her lip so more words don’t escape her as she hands the gift to Santana. It’s a tiny plastic figurine she saw through a toy shop window that morning on her way to the theatre, a flat circle of painted snow with the Sugar Plum Fairy dancing in the middle, surrounded by Marie in her white nightgown and the Prince in his soldier uniform. She’s pretty sure it’s supposed to be an ornament, but she cut the ribbon off so now it’s just a simple figurine.

Santana takes it carefully from Brittany, as if it’s made of fragile glass and not toylike plastic. Her fingers trace delicately over the dancing fairy and Brittany suddenly feels heat crawl and creep under her skin. Usually she’s not this prone to blushing, if anything she prides herself on making others blush, but Santana must have some innate connection to the blood vessels in her cheeks because they always seem to be super aware of her presence.

“I know it’s— Kind of dumb or childish or whatever,” she mumbles. She’s always been told by that too many people that, even if she is a principal dancer with one of the most prestigious dance companies in North America, but she understands how important it is to rediscover how to have fun; life’s far too hard and messy and cruel to take yourself too seriously, and Brittany’s found that sometimes the only thing you can do is have fun and laugh. But people have made her feel insecure about it for so long, all the way back in middle school when having sleepovers and playing pretend with her little sister suddenly wasn’t cool anymore, that it makes her nervous to drop her caution around people other than her sister or Mercedes or Sam because they almost always disappoint her.

“No,” Santana says quickly, shaking her head sharply, and when she glances up at Brittany her eyes are shining and bright with something Brittany can’t name. “It’s perfect,” she whispers, “Thank you.”

The heat in Brittany’s cheeks continues to prickle her skin, but as she kicks one foot behind her other she already knows it has less to do with nervous embarrassment now and more to do with how bashful-giddy she feels when Santana directs that smile at her. “You’re welcome,” she murmurs, “You deserve to remember today. You did amazing.”

Santana’s eyes never leave hers even as her smile widens and she whispers her thanks again. Brittany feels too much all at once and fumbles with her keys before quickly turning to lock her door, finding Santana’s eyes still on her when she turns back around. “Shall we?” Brittany asks, gesturing down the hallway.

Santana nods quickly, finally glancing away to look at the figurine in her hand before tucking it carefully in her jacket pocket.

Brittany finds it really easy to talk to Santana as they head out of the theatre, and the earlier heat creeping under her skin starts to fade as they navigate the halls. Santana can make Brittany laugh really easily and Brittany kind of really, really likes that, but Brittany quickly finds that what she likes even more is making Santana smile, because Brittany’s never felt more accomplished than when her deadpan makes Santana’s dimples crease her cheeks, and even better than that is saying something that makes Santana toss her head back as bright carefree giggles spill forth from her.

The make it to the front lobby far sooner than Brittany wants to, and as soon as they step out into the chilly air, her phone buzzes with a text from Mercedes telling her that she’s here just as a dark SUV pulls up. “That’s my ride,” Brittany says. They both pause, still smiling at each other, until Brittany shakes herself out of her daze and whispers a quick bye as she heads for Mercedes’ SUV.

“Hey,” Santana calls just as Brittany’s hand lands on the handle of the passenger door, “Thanks, for today. You know, at the meeting.”

Brittany feels something warm and bright and fond curl in her stomach. The feeling isn’t something she’s ever really felt before, but it reminds her of camping with her parents to celebrate the first time she ever won gold a competition, when she would huddle closer to the fire until it would feel like its warmth was blooming from within her cheeks and and chest instead of from the fire itself. “You’re welcome,” she murmurs, and despite the rush of the city around them Brittany feels a little bit like it’s just them on the sidewalk for a moment. “Goodnight, Santana,” she says softly.

Those dimples crease Santana’s cheeks and makes Brittany’s breath hitch just a little. “Goodnight, Brittany.”

#brittana #brittany pierce #santana lopez #glee #brittana fanfiction #glee fanfiction #my writing #story: be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) #for anyone who's been following me you Know that this understudy thing gets me Heated lol