#cece.

for  purely  entertainment  purposes?  goldie  and  brooks,  without  question.  watching  the  two  dumbest  people  i've  ever  encountered  stand  there  telling  each  other  #exactly  while  simultaneously  misunderstanding  the  same  conversation  would  heal  something  inside  me.  brooks  strikes  me  as  the  type  to  accidentally  flirt  with  literally  everyone  because  he  has  the  social  awareness  of  a  dog.  goldie,  however…  #mamadontplay  that  girl  would  launch  the  atomic  bomb  over  somebody  saying,  "hey,  brooks!"  in  the  hallway.  saint  rivera  would  become  a  crater  by  the third  class of the day.  #nationalsecuritythreat

i've  already  spoken  on  this  once,  but  i'll  happily  say  it  again:  cece  and  stella.  i'm  going  full  #yuri  for  those  two.  i  don't  want  sunshine  and  rainbows.  i  want  yearning  so  intense  it  ruins  both  of  their  academic  careers.  i  want  six  months  of  aggressively  denying  feelings.  i  want  unnecessary  arguments  fueled  entirely  by  poor  communication.  i  want  one  of  them  to  storm  off  dramatically  while  the  other  stands  there  pretending  not  to  care.  healthy  relationships  are  beautiful.  however…  my  favorite  relationships  are  always  deeply  concerning.  #toxicwlw

respectfully…  SYDNEY  AND  MILO!  i've  seen  enough.  put  them  in  a  room  together.  make  them  accidentally  brush  hands.  have  one  of  them  say  "good  game,  man"  and  linger  half  a  second  too  long.  i'll  do  the  rest.  i've  already  got  ao3  open  and  i'm  halfway  through  outlining  chapter  one  in  my  head.  you  can't  stop  me  now.  break  the  stereotypes.  hold  hands  after  practice.  share  a  milkshake.  realize  you've  been  in  love  for  three  months  and  everybody  else  noticed  before  you  did.  google,  show  me  these  guys'  b-  #justonelockerroomscene

well,  it  certainly  tracks.  cece  is  giving  gay  (compliment)  and  stella  is  #gorjeen.  but  let's  put  the  allegations  aside  for  a  second  and  discuss  the  far  more  important  possibility…  what  if  cece  joined  glee  club  on  a  dare,  intending  to  hate  every  second  of  it?  what  if  she  saw  stella  across  the  room  in  cinematic  slow  motion  and  suddenly  every  love  song  in  the  setlist  started  making  sense?

August had been struck in the butt by Cupid himself. That's the only logical reason he could think of for the way his hands began to sweat ever since Cece joined New Directions and the way his heart was quick to pick up whenever he got a whiff of whatever perfume she was wearing.

He was lovesick.

It was why, after practice, he had lingered back leaned against the piano like he hadn't been very intentionally pretending to retie his shoelaces for thirty seconds just to wait for her to pass by him. With the bait laid, he waited until she glanced at him — if she glanced at him, the pushed off the piano, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

"Cecilia," he sang in the tune of the Simon & Garfunkel hit, basically having to stop himself from serenading her. "You know with these duets coming up, maybe we should do one of our own," he tried to pitch is as casually as he could. "The freaks do it all the time. They're like, weirdly always singing when they shouldn't." Forgetting himself that he was one of the said freaks now.