Stressed Out

Hey there, reader. I had another account but I decided a fresh start would be better than changing and deleting EVERYTHING. Anyways, my name is Journey. More information is in my bio. I love reading your messages and reviews so feel free to leave a bunch of them

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Brittana or TØP.

Santana Lopez sat at her desk in her upstate New York apartment. The 34 years old singer/songwriter leaned her head on the desk and groaned. Balled up paper littered the desk and the floor surrounding it. Santana stared out the window and thought about how everything used to be so easy. It was like the words couldn't wait to flow onto the page. Now, the words seemed to be hiding deep in the recesses of her mind. A pair of warm hands gently rested on her shoulders. She smiled and tilted her head up to look at her wife.

"You seem stressed. It's okay to take a break, you know." Brittany said, planting a kiss on her temple.

"I can't, I have to finish this song by the end of the week." Santana whined, pouting at the papers in front of her.

"Baby, you're a genius at songwriting. You're just having really bad writers block."

"Writers block is holding us up from paying the bills."

"Don't worry about the money right now. Just focus on writing an amazing song."

"I can't," Santana said, "there's nothing new to write about. Everything's already been done."

I wish I found some better sounds no one's ever heard.

I wish I had a better voice that sang some better words.

I wish I found some chords in an order that is new.

"San, listen to me. You are the most talented person I know, and also the most talented in the universe. Don't stress yourself out over one little song."

To Santana, it wasn't really about the song. It was about the Brittany and the little one asleep upstairs and the even littler one just starting to form a bump under her wife's shirt. She wanted her family to have a wonderful life, and she knew Britt did too. Brittany kissed her cheek and went upstairs to go check on their son, Kaiden.

Santana pulled out a new piece of paper and began writing. The words were finally flowing again.

Wish we could turn back time, to the good ol' days.

When our mama sang us to sleep but now we're stressed out.

She thought of how easy life was when she was younger. How every scrape or bruise she got was met with a warm hug from her mother. How she never had to worry about a job or car payments or house payments. She kept writing.

Out of student loans and treehouse homes we all would take the latter.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought about Kaiden and the little unknown soon-to-be human growing inside of Britt. Santana told herself that, no matter what, she would do anything it took to get money for her family. The roughest spot was when Kaiden was only a year and a half old and they all lived in their car. She'd have robbed someone if a producer hadn't heard her demo and paid her good money to record for their company. A few tears rolled down her face as she thought about just how far they'd come since then. No longer did they have to sleep in uncomfortable car seats, now they were tucking their son into a nice, warm bed and crawling into another themselves. She wasn't thinking about the words now, they just poured from her hand onto the paper.

We used to play pretend give each other different names.

We would build a rocket ship and then we'd fly it far away.

Used to dream of outer space but now they're laughing at out face.

Saying, "Wake up you need to make money."

Suddenly, she was done. Santana put the song into a special folder and headed up to bed, leaving the discarded papers for tomorrow. She was too tired to throw them away. Quietly, she checked on Kaiden and saw the familiar light brown hair that was getting long enough for a haircut and the rise and fall of his chest under the blanket. She kissed his cheek lightly and turned to walk out when she heard his soft voice.

"I love you, mommy." Kaiden mumbled, half asleep.

"I love you too baby." She said, smiling. "So much."

Back down the hall, she silently opened the door to her and Britt's room. She found her wife asleep, one hand draped over her baby bump and the other across Santana's pillow. Santana stripped herself of her day clothes and crawled into the familiar, safe place that was Brittany's arms. As if on instinct, Britt's arms moved to cradle her, and Santana nuzzled into her, breathing in her scent and tracing a light pattern on her back.

Brittany was still asleep, but Santana still kissed her neck and told her she loved her deeply before finally going to sleep after a very, very long day.

Well, that was my first story on this new account. I hope it was just enough fluff for all you hardcore Brittana shippers, like myself. – Journey