authors's note: so here we are, a very long time after i posted the original oneshot, with a BRAND NEW CHAPTER! yes, yes, it's very exciting. for all of you who were anxiously awaiting the brittana chapter, wait no more. because here it is. i apologize for the shortness of it. i tried to make it longer, but this just felt right. i just couldn't get the wording more perfect, i'm not even kidding. this is exactly how i wanted it and i'm very proud of it. plus, do you really think santana would want to waste her time making a long ass video for a bunch of brats she'll never meet? she's got a heart in there somewhere, guys. (i seriously have the biggest girl crush on santana ever, though, and i'm very straight. boyfriend and everything.) OKAY, enough of me talking. just go read.

disclaimer: i don't own anything you recognize. the lyrics below belong to reliant k (seriously the cutest song ever, okay. go look it up; must have don't something right by reliant k.

le tumblr: i now officially have a tumblr, feel free to follow and/or stalk me. http :/ guesssimwhaatsalwaayswrongg . tumblr . com / (now you can actually bug me to update with the promised karofsky chapter) if for some reason it doesn't show up or maybe your're just too lazy to take out the spaces, there's a link of my profile.


you came along one day
and you rearranged my life;
all i gotta say is
i must've done something right.


The webcam flickers and the picture goes fuzzy. There's an annoyed huff and then the sound of a palm hitting plastic—"San, I don't think breaking the computer is gonna make him want to be nice to you."—before a pretty brunette appears on the screen. Her face is dangerously close to the tiny built-in camera. She squints.

"Fucking laptop," She huffs, pulling away, "I knew we should've got the iPad 2 instead."

From off the screen, another voice says, confused, "But we have pads in the bathroom. They don't take pictures."

The young woman on the screen smiles softly, before sighing. "Brit, babe. Not those pads. An iPad is a giant iPod," she explains patiently.

"Oh."

The brunette backs away from the screen. She pulls her best bitch face and says, "I honestly don't know why I'm doing this. Curly says helping people will be good for me," She looks disgusted by the thought.

"Dolphin!" the other voice yells excitedly. The woman on screen nods wordlessly, unfazed.

"Yeah, Britt, dolphin," She says, "I guess since none of you know who I'm talking about—well, they're like two of my close friends. Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel—they're both kind of famous. I've known them since high school," She looks smug, "I'm Santana, by the way," She adds offhandedly.

"I'm Brittany!"

An equally pretty blonde launches herself onto the bed behind Santana and latches onto the other girl's back. She stares at the camera, confused, and whispers, "Santana, who are you talking to?"

"We're making a video. Remember the one Kurt and Blaine showed us the last time we visited them?"

Brittany sighs, "Santana, they were talking to us through the computer. There's nobody here."

"They were talking to the world—anyone who watches the video can hear them. Just like we're doing now," Santana says, and she sounds like she's trying not to laugh, "Remember in high school, before we were dating and you were with Artie? And I kept denying that I was in love with you," she takes Brittany's hand, and Brittany's face lights up, "Well, there are kids going through what we did. And there are kids getting pushed around like Kurt did. This video is supposed to give them courage," she says softly.

Brittany nods, and then turns determinedly to the camera. "Don't be sad anymore," she says quietly, "Because I was so sad when I couldn't be myself, and I know Santana was in a really bad place. I don't want you to go through that either, because it sucks," she nods resolutely, "It does. And don't let anyone push you around, either, cause they're just big bullies. They're scared. Don't be scared like them. Be you, okay?"

Satisfied, she leans against Santana, who seems to be in some sort of shock. "What she said," she adds weakly. She leans her head against Brittany's and they lock pinkies.

"Santana used to be sad," Brittany says seriously, "But now she's happy because she gets to be who she is. Our friend Finn accidently told everyone about her and she was mad for a while, but all of our friends came together to help her."

"Lady music week," Santana mumbles, dropping her head into her hands and looking embarrassed. Brittany pats her shoulder blankly. Santana sits up a little straighter and adds, "And to any of you who's going through the whole coming out thing, I know it sucks. My parents were real cool about it, but my Abuela flipped. Kicked me out, the whole nine yards. I had to stay with Brittany's family and live with that stupid leprechaun for a month, before she finally let me home."

"Rory was nice," Brittany says, almost defensively, "I mean, there was the whole pot of gold thing, but his accent was pretty hot." Santana frowns, but Brittany ignores her and turns back to the camera. "It gets better," Brittany says to the camera, and she smiles widely, "Maybe you'll meet your own Santana and you'll be happy forever, like me. I really hope you do."

Santana smiles softly, and her gaze is directed at Brittany as she says, "Don't let those assholes push you around. You deserve to be happy, just like anyone else. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," she looks straight into the camera, "Or I will find each and every one of you and kick your asses, understand?"

Brittany's giggle rings out in the empty room, and then Santana starts to laugh. The girls collapse into each other, tears streaming down their faces. Santana brushes a piece of hair out of Brittany's eye, and the grainy camera shuts off.