I’m so sorry I haven’t been around guys!
I’ve been really, really sick with cancer.
Wait, or maybe it was a cold… They both start with C.
Going to the doctors, talk to everyone tonight! :3
Woah woah woah, what? Britt, are you okay? You didn’t seem sick when we had our pony marathon…
My favorite memory of the Invitational was dancing to this song… with Shane.
I never said you were crazy, I said you were spastic, dance-y, and adorable. :3
And I would love that. When are you supposed to fly back here?I miss you already.
Funny, it sounds like such a compliment the second time around.
Y-you would? YES. Uh. Because I would too. And this time I’ll take you someplace that isn’t in your school. Like a fancy dinner. Or something. Do you have anything in mind?
I won’t be back until Winter Fest, unfortunately. The next two months are gunna be reallll slow.
It’s a very good thing. Embrace it, Shane.
Oh. Oh I see. You got it! Crazy: embraced.
So, uh… I know it’s planning ahead, but maybe the next time I’m in Westerville we can go for date number 2? Not that you have to decide now. Just, uh, putting that out there to the universe.
“That’s exactly what I said! Unless you’re here to rape the ponies. Which is, although impressive multitasking, kind of gross. But you don’t seem the pony-raping type, so I think we’re safe there.” Grinning, she skipped over to her DVD player, fiddling with the buttons until the DVD Wizard heard her asking him to open the drawer, and she popped the disc which had been handed to her in.
“Oh! Before we start, I was going to get ice cream. Want some?” After receiving the affirmative, she jumped up and headed to the bedroom door. “Just make yourself at home,” she said before she left, heading down the stairs. She was excited to finally be meeting Shane; from what she’d seen so far, she liked real-life him as much as internet-him. He was sort of like a more Brittany-friendly version of his brother- Britt liked Blaine, from what she’d seen of him, but he spoke really long words really fast, and she sometimes just pretended to know what he was talking about.
Reaching the kitchen, she grabbed the cookie dough ice cream, as well as two spoons, and headed back up the stairs, finding Lord Tubbington sitting outside of her bedroom.
“Hey, Tubbs,” she greeted him, opening to door to find Shane poking around her bedroom, looking at a photo sitting on her dressing table. She didn’t care; she’d meant it when she told him to make himself at home. Secrets were sort of pointless, she’d always thought, so she didn’t bother having any.
“Shane,” she said, putting the ice cream down as Tubbs brushed past her legs to investigate the new person, who had relocated himself to the end of her bed. “This is Lord Tubbington. He’s a moody bitch who will either love or hate you, but don’t worry,” she assured him seriously. “His opinion won’t change the way I see you at all.”
As Tubbington settled himself next to Shane on the floor (apparently, the curly haired boy got the tick of approval), Brittany waved the DVD case in the air. “Who’s ready to get our pony on?”
Shane guffawed, wrinkling his nose at the notion of equestrian coitus.
“How would that even work? I’m not even sure ponies have…” Shane flailed his arms aimlessly, trying to communicate the rather disturbing thought without words before dropping them to his sides in defeat.
“No, you know what, I would rather not think about the mechanics of pony-rape.” Shane lit up at the suggestion of ice cream.
“Ponies and ice cream? Oh Britt, you do know the way to a man’s heart,” he said as he placed a thouched hand on his chest. He gave a little finger-wave as she left, deciding to fulfill the Cheerio’s request of making himself at home by shuffling to the chair at her desk and leaning back into it. He crossed his arms behind his head, eyes flickering about the bedroom. The green hues left a feeling of calm over the dancer. His toe found the heel of his shoe, kicking one off, then the other. Not bothered to move, Shane swatted the well-loved pair of green high-tops with the inside of his foot, extending his long legs in an attempt to align them neatly against the wall. It seemed, however, that Shane overestimated his balance, and the chair tumbled backwards. Shane managed to leap away before he could do any further damage. He quickly set the chair upright, flushing in embarrassment and glancing to the door to see if Brittany had made a humiliatingly timely arrival. Luckily, there was no sight of her; only a rather stern looking cat, apparently drawn by the clamor. He approached the feline outside the doorway.
“You saw nothing,” he said with a significant look, slowly shutting the door. It was then that a photo caught Shane’s eye, sitting on Brittany’s shelf. It was a group of people – Shane recognized Brittany, Santana and Quinn in matching uniforms; Rachel and Kurt, both who looked significantly younger; Finn, towering with a few equally muscled counterparts; and half a dozen other people Shane didn’t recognize, all looking almost criminally happy. Their smiles were infectious.
Shane whipped around at the sound of the door reopening. He bounced to Brittany’s side.
“I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!” Shane chanted enthusiastically as he lightened Brittany’s load by one bowl of icy confection.
“Thanks! Is that from a party or something?” he asked, jabbing a thumb at the photo he had been examining. Shane plopped onto the floor before the TV. He folded his legs so that his feet were pressed up against one another, holding them together in his hands as each knee made a V towards the walls. He smirked as he was formally introduced to the cat who had caught him previously.
“Lord Tubbington, pleased to meet your acquaintance,” Shane said, gently shaking his furry little paw. He stroked down the feline’s back as he arched against Shane’s hand.
“I’ve never pet a lord before!” Shane said brightly. The previews ended, and the menu screen popped onto the television, upbeat notes of the show’s theme song pumping in the background. “Oh, I was born ready,” Shane replied, grinning hard and rubbing his palms in anticipation - removing the cat hair from them in the process.
(Source: shanederson)
I don’t even care. Send the bombs. Let 2012 come. Bring on the zombie apocalypse. Because REED VAN KAMP LET ME TAKE HIM ON A DATE.
And it was awesome.
Oh, and on my wave of endorphins, I revamped my theme! Take a look see.
Brittany clapped her hands together happily, grinning as she heard the call from her front verandah. She threw her front door open, throwing her arms around the neck of the curly-haired boy in front of her and squealing.
“Rainbow Dash! It’s so good to see you!” She grabbed his hand and ushered him inside, closing the door behind him. “I’m so happy you got here alright, I know sometimes the roads get a bit dusty this time of year because of the Tooth Fairy being super busy; Halloween equals cavities, you know how it is.”
She led him up the stairs to her bedroom, looking back over her shoulder at the boy. He was cute in that little-brother-let-me-cuddle-you way, she decided, until she got distracted by the fact that she was probably being rude.
“Oh, sorry! Do you want a drink or anything? Mom told me I was only allowed to have you over today if I didn’t accept anything you offered me, in case you tried to date-rape me. But you wouldn’t do that, because this isn’t even a date so she’s dumb. Wait, you won’t, will you?” Without pausing to let him answer, she grinned again, sticking her hand out in front of her for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Brittany!”
Shane’s eyes widened a little as the door flew open, taken aback by the hug he was immediately drawn into. Nonetheless, he grinned, returning the embrace with one arm as the other stayed wrapped around the box set.
“Well hi!” he laughed as the blonde released him, “good to see you too!” He followed her inside, glancing around curiously at the home. At the comment on the tooth fairy, Shane’s eyebrow lifted, lips parting in a toothy grin. This was definitely the Brittany he’d come to know and love.
“Oh yeah, I know how it gets,” he agreed, feeling distinctly more comfortable in the unfamiliar setting. He tramped up the stairs behind, letting Brittany lead the way to her room. He took a seat on her bed, plopping down on the flowery bedding and easing into the feel of the room. At the suggestion of date rape, though, he scrambled away with a high-pitched “What?” He laughed a little when without missing a beat, she extended her hand in a formal introduction. Shane returned the handshake.
“Hello, Brittany!” he chirped, “I’m Shane. And there will be no raping of any kind. I’m just here for the ponies.”
(Source: shanederson)
