Her fucking family is nuts on the holidays. She loves them. Really, she does, but there’s no way in hell she’s about to sit through an evening of Spanish/English snark and watching her baby brother play video games on his new Xbox 360, so no one can watch TV on the 52 inch. No way at all.
The day started off awesome; she got a nice check, a few of the books she’s wanted to read, new pajamas and diamonds because her daddy knows a thing or two about the way to her heart.
They had these fucking delicious omelets for breakfast filled with like, everything with salsa on the side just how she likes it then they chilled and watched Home Alone as a family until she, her mom and abuela headed to the kitchen to prepare their annual feast. It’s always this wild combination of American holiday standards and Puerto Rican classics but she does not mind.
She’s super full when she texts Puck from the couch saying I’ve had enough holiday cheer to last me a lifetime. What are you doing? He’s a Jew, so she figures he has no family obligations on
( ... )
(215): he'll be my respectable boyfriend for tksgiving and i'll be his non-slutty girlfriend for christmas. (1-215): and then .... (215): he stays my gay friend and my parents think i'm not a slut.
Santana/Rachel: Rachel buys Santana pajamas for Christmas. Santana is confused.
"When was the last time you saw me wear pajamas?" "Exactly!" "...That's a choice. I could buy my own fucking sleepwear." "But...They have stripes on them. You love stripes!"
Yeah, she’s pretty sure there’s a sock in her mouth. A sock that’s attached to a tiny foot, attached to a tiny body that’s loud whispering, “Mama,” over and over again
( ... )
“When’s Mama going to wake up?” She asks with this little pout. She’s her kid but she’s Rachel’s baby and, honestly? Santana loves it. According to Logan, Rachel is the sun. She thinks that’s pretty accurate.
“She’ll be up in a minute, mija.” Santana cuts half of the bagel into bite-sized pieces and puts a dollop of strawberry cream cheese in the center of Logan’s plate. She sets it down in front of the kid and she seal claps in thanks, and then grins at the look Santana gives her. “Make sure you chew, okay?” Logan nods. The kid tackles all food like Santana used to do Breadstix, so like, she has to remind her sometimes.
She doesn’t even have to turn around from the Keurig to know that Rachel’s awake because a chair slides back and then little feet are running and giggling and Logan is like five times louder than she has been all morning when she says, “Mama, you’re up!”
Rachel does this little laugh that’s only for Logan then says, “I am. Where’s my hug?”
“You have to pick me up or I’ll be hugging your legs.” Santana laughs,
( ... )
“Go show Mommy,” she hears her say. She’s smiling before Logan even walks into the kitchen. She’s got on these little black wayfarer Ray Bans that Rachel was pissed at Santana for buying. And maybe she didn’t need to buy the red pair and the black pair because they were sort of expensive for a three-year-old but Logan is good at taking care of her stuff and they can afford them. Plus, she looks super freaking cute in her pajamas and sunglasses.
She’s beaming with her little hands on her hips when she yells, “Mommy look!”
“You’re almost as cute as I am,” she teases. Logan bottom lip pushes out and her eyebrow lifts and she knows the kids eyes are squinted in that you’re kidding me way.
“M’cuter.” It’s nice to know she’s passed on her charm.
Rachel’s sitting on the couch with her legs folded, sipping coffee and doing something on her iPad (probably checking the Times) when the two of them come around the corner. Logan scurries to the couch and sits half-on her lap until Rachel makes room for her and then sits between her legs.
( ... )
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The day started off awesome; she got a nice check, a few of the books she’s wanted to read, new pajamas and diamonds because her daddy knows a thing or two about the way to her heart.
They had these fucking delicious omelets for breakfast filled with like, everything with salsa on the side just how she likes it then they chilled and watched Home Alone as a family until she, her mom and abuela headed to the kitchen to prepare their annual feast. It’s always this wild combination of American holiday standards and Puerto Rican classics but she does not mind.
She’s super full when she texts Puck from the couch saying I’ve had enough holiday cheer to last me a lifetime. What are you doing? He’s a Jew, so she figures he has no family obligations on ( ... )
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(215): he'll be my respectable boyfriend for tksgiving and i'll be his non-slutty girlfriend for christmas.
(1-215): and then ....
(215): he stays my gay friend and my parents think i'm not a slut.
Reply
"When was the last time you saw me wear pajamas?"
"Exactly!"
"...That's a choice. I could buy my own fucking sleepwear."
"But...They have stripes on them. You love stripes!"
(OR WHATEVER.)
Reply
( ... )
Reply
( ... )
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Reply
“She’ll be up in a minute, mija.” Santana cuts half of the bagel into bite-sized pieces and puts a dollop of strawberry cream cheese in the center of Logan’s plate. She sets it down in front of the kid and she seal claps in thanks, and then grins at the look Santana gives her. “Make sure you chew, okay?” Logan nods. The kid tackles all food like Santana used to do Breadstix, so like, she has to remind her sometimes.
She doesn’t even have to turn around from the Keurig to know that Rachel’s awake because a chair slides back and then little feet are running and giggling and Logan is like five times louder than she has been all morning when she says, “Mama, you’re up!”
Rachel does this little laugh that’s only for Logan then says, “I am. Where’s my hug?”
“You have to pick me up or I’ll be hugging your legs.” Santana laughs, ( ... )
Reply
She’s beaming with her little hands on her hips when she yells, “Mommy look!”
“You’re almost as cute as I am,” she teases. Logan bottom lip pushes out and her eyebrow lifts and she knows the kids eyes are squinted in that you’re kidding me way.
“M’cuter.” It’s nice to know she’s passed on her charm.
Rachel’s sitting on the couch with her legs folded, sipping coffee and doing something on her iPad (probably checking the Times) when the two of them come around the corner. Logan scurries to the couch and sits half-on her lap until Rachel makes room for her and then sits between her legs. ( ... )
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