For ( 𝘄𝗵𝗼 ) though? Maybe for Blondie over there but me? I’m good.

Oh, Britt Britt. Trust me, 𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 is eating that berry pie. Nobody smart, anyway.

Nobody actually smart would willingly put up with the cackling show 24/7, there’s a reason I got myself a nice pair of earplugs that I’ve been wearing to Glee club since the semester started.

Looks like one too, doesn’t she? Hell nah, you and your 𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙣𝙜 chest are staying safe and sound. Anything tries to slice through you and I’ll slices them first.

Mhm. Totally demonic. Especially with them granny tights that she loves wearing. Uh, duh. I’ve got your back, Britt.

She can’t help it. In that moment, Santana snorts a laugh at what Brittany said— eyes shutting closed and head shaking lightly. She is quick to lace her pinky with her best friend’s though, holding tight. You’re too much, Britt-Britt.

Santana visibly cringes at the visual Brittany describes, shaking her head slowly before responding, ❛ Yeah, no. I don’t need— we don’t need that. Definitely staying over to fight her ass in case of anything. ❜

Santana chuckles, head ducking in a somewhat bashful manner that she only seems to let shine through around Brittany. ❛ Might have to add some glitter to this one to make it shiny, though. ❜

Little Miss Plastic Primadonna is talking shit again? Just say the word, I’ll whoop her pale ass into next century before she can be racially discriminating towards anyone ever again.

That Kitty girl, or whatever her name is, might wanna start retracting them claws as soon as possible. Girl might be a 𝙘𝙖𝙩 but I’m a fuckin’ lion.

I finally found him. My sleep paralysis demon.