It has been exactly one week since marriage equality became the law of the land in the United States, and I don’t want the party to end! So, with the help of Twitter, I have rounded up 15 stories that feature some of our favorite girls marrying other girls. Happy long weekend reading!

Pairing: Brittany and Santana, Glee

Plot: Santana’s journey toward self-acceptance through love, loss, friends, career and family.

Length: 300,000 words

Santana gripped the steering wheel of her SUV so hard her knuckles were white. She leaned on the horn. Traffic was standing completely still, and the woman in the passenger seat was panting and sweating. Santana felt she was panting and sweating too, at least on the inside. She turned the air conditioning up as high as it would go, even though it was only March. What if we don’t make it in time? What if something goes wrong? Just breathe, she thought. Remember to breathe. “Santana, is there any other way to get there?” she heard, as she wondered the same thing. “There’s got to be a way around this mess.” Santana racked her brain. And then it hit her. There was another way. If she backtracked a mile or so, there was a scenic route over the hill and past the reservoir that would take them around the perimeter of the city to their destination. There surely wouldn’t be any traffic on that road. “Yeah, there is. It’s a little longer though. Is that ok?” she asked. “Sometimes the longer way is better.” Through her panic, Santana smiled. She turned the steering wheel sharply, making an illegal U-turn, and sped down the road in the opposite direction. She took the woman’s hand in hers and squeezed. Yes, she smiled to herself, Sometimes the longer way is better.

Pairing: Laura and Carmilla, Carmilla

Plot: It’s a Carmilla monarchy AU!

Length: 5,500 words

You call Laura because you feel like you’ve screwed up. “Hey.” “Hey.” She sounds a little tired. “I miss you.” “I miss you, too.” You smile because you can’t help it. “I think I screwed up with Will just now.” “What makes you think that?” She suddenly seems very awake. “I – he looks at Kirsch like I used to look at you and I wanted to tell him to be careful and not fuck up like I did, but it turned into fifteen minutes of me basically lecturing him.” “Wait, who’s Kirsch?” Laura is definitely walking, you can tell by the way she’s breathing. “No, wait. Your bodyguard. I knew that.” She takes a breath. “Okay, so Will looks at him like he’s in love, what’s so wrong with that?” “Laura, I didn’t look at you before like I was in love. I looked at you like you could ruin me.” She’s quiet and you want to take that back, but she’s talking again before you can. “I’m sorry.”

Pairing: Rachel and Quinn, Glee

Plot: It’s a Faberry wedding!

Length: 39,000 words

Quinn shakes her head in amusement and grins. “Only if you congratulate this one too,” she urges, opening her arms invitingly. Sarah steps into them with only a slight hesitation. Quinn’s embrace is so familiar, and for just a second, Sarah’s eyes drift shut in wistful remembrance of the past. “I’m so happy for you, Quinn,” she tells her honestly. “You’re going to have an amazing life together.” “Thank you,” Quinn murmurs, giving her one final squeeze before she lets go. She slips her arm back around Rachel’s waist, and Josie does the same to Sarah, and everything is just the way it’s supposed to be. “I’m expecting a dance with the blushing bride later,” Josie teases. Quinn winks. “You’ll have to ask my wife,” she says playfully. “I was talking about your wife,” Josie fires back, grinning impishly at Rachel. Quinn laughs, and Rachel’s smile grows impossibly wide. “God, I love that word,” she practically growls, turning into Quinn’s body and pulling her down for a kiss, and her brand-new wedding ring winks at them from the hand resting on Quinn’s cheek. “Hey, save it for the reception,” Santana interrupts them. “If we ever get to it since you’re both taking forever making nice with all the exes you didn’t marry.”

Pairing: Rachel and Quinn, Glee

Plot: “A lifelong story about what it’s like to know at fifteen who your heart belongs to and what lengths a girl will go to in order to keep it there forever.”

Length: 209,000 words

ADVERTISEMENT

Rachel turned her head to the shiny ginger squished up beside her. Bright blue eyes sparkled back at her and the deep auburn hair flooded around her pale shoulders. She was striking as ever. Rachel smiled. “Justificationally is not a word, J. And honestly honestly?” “Yes, spare no horrid details, please.” “I just miss her.” “Well she was practically your childhood. I mean all of high school, right? It’s okay to miss her.” “And college.” “Right, and college.” “And technically my first year of Broadway even though it was also my last year of college. It’s like I have two separate lives in memory: one where she was around and one where, where she wasn’t. I feel like two people almost,” Rachel muttered with a frustrated frown. Janey smirked and slid closer to the brunette who’d officially stolen her heart a year ago. “And what happened the second year of Broadway, huh? Tell me that story,” she snickered and placed a kiss on Rachel’s cheek. The brunette couldn’t help but shiver away a giggle. “This headcase ginger took over my life.” “Headcase!” “Mhm,” she whispered and found the girl’s lips for a sweet peck. When Rachel pulled back, with all intentions set on finishing their wedding invitations, Janey stretched forward and took her lips back. She reached down slowly, pulled the papers out of Rachel’s hands and then slid herself into the brunette’s lap. “You can finish these later,” she purred and wrapped her arms fully around her fiancée. Rachel moaned into the kiss and let her mind stray to Janey, kissing her fully. The dancer extended those long, lean legs around her and Rachel found herself no longer having to force her mind to “stray” to her fiancée. She could do this. Janey Jansen was delicious and marrying her. She could definitely do this. “Mmm,” Rachel whimpered into the girl. “Quinn who?” “That’s my girl.”

Pairing: Xena and Gabrielle

Plot: “Xena is the Lord, Conqueror of Greece, but she is almost forty-five years old when she meets the slave, Gabrielle. Many of Xena’s evil ways have been sedated, but not all.”

“Xena?” “Mmm?” “Xena?” Gabrielle’s voice came at me louder this time. I knew she was waiting for me to raise my eyes from the scroll I was reading. She detested talking to the top of my head, bent over a scroll as I was during our morning meal. Usually this time of the day I gave to my Consort, but I had a full day of hearings to preside over and I was trying to stay caught up. “I can read and listen at the same time, little one,” I responded, finally lifting my face to gaze into the intelligent green eyes across from me. “I know,” she smiled, “but I like looking into your beautiful face.” I feel the beginnings of a blush creeping up my neck and offer her a crooked smile in return. Her forward comment flusters me. She knows what it does to me when she says things like that. Of course, I think that’s why she says them half the time. I set my scrolls aside and take her hand in mine from across the table. “All right, my love, now that you have my beautiful attention, what may I do for you?” “When you say it like that I think you might do anything for me,” she replied coyly. I didn’t yet realize the danger I was in. “I would,” I answered without hesitation. “I’d like for you to write down your thoughts, a sort of a history of your life.”

Pairing: Brittany and Santana

Plot: “Santana has attended so many of Brittany’s cousins’ weddings over the years that it doesn’t even register with her that this one will be different—that this will be the first time she’s attended a Pierce family wedding as Brittany’s girlfriend.”

Length: 5,000 words

Santana has attended so many of Brittany’s cousins’ weddings over the years that it doesn’t even register with her that this one will be different—that this will be the first time she’s attended a Pierce family wedding not just as Brittany’s best friend but as Brittany’s girlfriend, and that this will be the first time she’s ever attended a wedding as anyone’s plus one. The realization doesn’t come to Santana as she and Brittany dress for the occasion, helping each other put in their earrings, trading compliments as they stand hip-to-hip in front of Brittany’s bedroom mirror, fixing their lipstick. It also doesn’t strike her when they pile into the Pierce family van and sit down side-by-side together, holding hands in the backseat, their clutch purses resting in their laps, their bracelets tangling together where their wrists touch. In fact, she doesn’t think about it at all during the two hour drive from Lima to Columbus—not when she’s too busy playing footsie with Brittany under the seat and teasing Brittany’s little sister that all the cousins like her best because her voice isn’t so shrill. (“My voice isn’t shrill!”) (“Okay, whoa. That right there? That sounded like a dog whistle, pipsqueak.”) (“Yeah, it totally did. Santana’s so right.”) (“Santana!”) (“What? I’m just saying that they might like you better if you actually spoke at a frequency that didn’t shatter the human ear drum.”) It’s only after they get out of the van in the church parking lot and Brittany’s teenage boy cousins don’t catcall Santana on sight for the first time since they’ve known her that Santana starts to realize that something feels different. The feeling only grows stronger when she and Brittany enter the chapel, hand-in-hand—thank god for Episcopalians—and some of Brittany’s aunties stop them before they can reach their seats, forcing the girls to pose for cellphone pictures in the aisle, admonishing them to skooch closer, closer, closer until finally one of the aunties just says Come on, Britt! Kiss her! and Brittany does as she’s told, sloppily, half on the lips and half on the chin, mostly out of surprise.

Pairing: Sansa and Margaery, Game of Thrones

Plot: The Lannisters meant it as an insult when they arranged the marriage of Sansa Stark to Margaery Tyrell. But is it truly an insult if nobody is insulted?

Length: 2,800 words

Sansa nodded, and Tyrion took his leave at once; it took a cleared throat and a significant look from Sansa to make Shae to do the same. “Shall we sit?” Margaery asked, gesturing to a low bench set a little way back from the path. They were quite alone. Sansa sat, and Margaery reached up to pluck a yellow rose from one of the surrounding bushes. Sansa looked away as the stretch bared more skin on Margaery’s stomach where her gown was cut away; she risked a quick peek, looking away before she was caught. Margaery offered the rose to Sansa. “Firstly, I should apologise for what happened in the throne room. I would not have had you told like that.” Sansa remembered her vow not to blame Margaery for this. “I should be the one apologising. They mean to insult you, by giving me to you.” Margaery sat down, close enough that Sansa could feel the heat of her skin through both their gowns. “It’s true that matches such as ours have always been rare, and usually intended as an insult or a way to extinguish a bloodline – but it’s only an insult if we’re insulted, and I choose not to be.” Margaery half-smiled. “My brother Loras believes that some of those marriages were great romances; star-crossed lovers wedding despite all the odds.” “Maybe they were both,” Sansa suggested. “An insult and a romance, both.” Margaery smiled. “Perhaps.” She rested her hand against Sansa’s thigh. “Perhaps we will be too.”

Pairing: Janeway and Seven of Nine, Star Trek: Voyager

Plot: A deliriously sweet Janeway/Seven of Nine wedding fic.

The dress was snowy white, long and sleek with lace scattered over the front and shoulders. It hung gracefully within the closet, patiently waiting to fulfill its destiny; to be worn by a bride who would not necessarily be blushing, but certainly would be fully aware of the situation’s significance. Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, regarded it somberly, feeling tiny flutters ripple through her stomach and wondered, if she felt this way the day before, how she would ever survive the actual ceremony itself. She was a formidable figure, standing six feet tall in her heels with white-blond hair done up in an austere bun and pale eyes the color of blue ice. Metallic gray implants framing the left eye and adorning the right cheek just in front of her ear gave stark reminder of her time in the Borg Collective, while the brown mesh outfit covering her curvaceous form made her appear imposing and severe. Glancing at her reflection in the huge mirror over the sink counter, Seven tried to understand how she could look so calm and collected on the outside when she felt like she was going to projectile vomit at any second. When the idea had been introduced by her partner that they be married during Prixin, the Talaxian holiday celebrating family, Seven had been immediate in her agreement. Throwing herself eagerly in all the preparations such a ceremony required, she collaberated with others in the crew, namely B’Elanna Torres, Samantha Wildman and her daughter Naomi as well as the ship’s medical assistant, Sek, all of whom either had some experience with the situation, or were full of ideas and eager to help. In her zeal, Seven had left the captain out of the bulk of the planning stage, but Janeway didn’t appear to mind, and in fact, actually seemed relieved that Seven was looking after everything. Now the planning and preparation was at an end, and all Seven had to do now was wait. And anticipate. With anticipation, came an unusual queasiness. Seven wondered if this was what was known as nervousness. Assimilated by the Collective at age six and spending eighteen years as a Borg drone before being isolated and cut off from the unified mind by Janeway, with whom she had subsequently fallen in love, there was still much about being Human that Seven did not quite comprehend. Participating in a wedding, about to begin her life in what was, apparently, a new state of existence, made her quite uncertain about everything she was feeling now. “Seven?” Seven was startled by the sudden appearance of her partner in the ensuite doorway. She had not even heard the woman come into their quarters, a decided abnormality considering the fact that her senses, particularly her hearing, were greatly enhanced by the Borg implants and nanoprobes still infesting her body. “Kathryn,” she responded, a little more faintly than she intended. “I did not realize your duty shift had ended.” Captain Kathryn Janeway, though smaller and more compact than her partner, was quite formidable in her own way, radiating an authority and presence that impressed her peers and intimidated everyone else. Her level blue-grey eyes were perplexed as she regarded her partner, and she tilted her head slightly, her voice softening. “Is something wrong, Annika?” That was Seven’s Human name, the one designated her by her parents all those years ago. Though Seven had allowed others to call her by that unfamiliar name … B’Elanna, the ship’s security chief, Tuvok, and Naomi … the captain was the only one who used it on a regular basis. And then, because it was only when they were both off duty or alone, it seemed more a term of endearment than a designation. Seven swallowed. “I believe I am … nervous.”

Pairing: Miranda and Andrea, The Devil Wears Prada

Plot: “Miranda knows what she and her second assistant are doing is absolutely not sex. Or so she tells herself.”

Length: 18,000 words

Andrea laughed against her neck. “I think you’re kidding yourself again. Like all those times you said we didn’t have sex and weren’t friends and weren’t dating. I think you’re really the queen of denial. I dread to think what your non-marriage proposal might be like…” “White is a very attractive color,” Miranda said nonchalantly. “It would look good on you.” Andrea blinked at her. “Miranda?” “Not that it should be big, our all-white ‘party’. We could invite a celebrant. Who could perhaps say a few words and ask a few questions, to which the answers would be a resounding yes. At least on my side.” “You’re proposing to me?” Andrea’s eyes grew wide. “You want to marry me?” “It would be a shame to waste the trident,” Miranda argued. Her eyes danced. “And I wouldn’t call it a wedding so much as a gathering of friends and a pure white theme.” “This is the weirdest proposal…” “Proposal?” Miranda said innocently. She ran her fingers softly through Andrea’s hair. “What an idea. The very notion that Miranda Priestly would propose to the woman she loves.”

Pairing: Rachel and Quinn, Glee

Plot: ” Rachel and Quinn’s wedding day is a joyous occasion for all… except for this poor guy whom Beth dragged along. He’s having a bit of a hard time grasping what’s going on.”

Length: 8,000 words

Rachel. This is the first time that I realize her mom is marrying a woman. This is the first time that I realize her mom likes women. I don’t care either way, but why did I not know these things before?! As a best friend, I’m a spectacular failure. No wonder she made me sign a contract. “Rachel.” I repeat the name if only to give myself time to think. “Hey, that’s your sister’s name.” “Same person.” My mind. It is blown. I turn to her slowly. Like, movie magic slow motion slowly. “Your mom is marrying your sister.” “Okay, when you say it like that-” “YOUR MOM IS MARRYING YOUR SISTER?!” “Shhh!” She clasps her hand over my mouth. I’m momentarily distracted by the feel of her soft skin against mine. But wait, no. I’m still hung up on the other thing.

Pairing: Korra and Asami, Legend of Korra

Plot: Asami and Korra’s wedding day.

Length: 2,500 words

Korra stared at her reflection in the mirror nervously. She inhaled deeply in a feeble attempt to calm herself. She couldn’t believe that this day had finally come. She had been both looking forward to and dreading this day for almost a year now. Korra jumped when she heard the door open and glanced over at Senna who was smiling back at her. “Hi, sweetie, I just came by to check on you,” Senna said quietly, making her way over to her daughter. “Spirits, Korra, you look so beautiful.” “Thanks, Mom,” The Avatar said with a bashful smile. “I can’t believe today is the day.” Senna smiled knowingly at her daughter. “Cold feet?” The Avatar blushed and nodded. “I don’t understand why. I love her so much. It all feels right, so why do I want to run and hide?” “It’s natural. Marriage is a big deal, Korra. Particularly this one.” Korra arched a dark brow and Senna explained. “Asami is the foremost industrialist in Republic City and you’re The Avatar. This is no small matter. Every aspect of your marriage is going to be subject to public scrutiny.” Korra’s frowned. “If you’re trying to calm me down, you’re doing a really bad job.” Senna laughed. “I’m pointing out that you have valid grounds to feel like this right now. However, when you leave this room and see how beautiful she looks right now, I have a feeling all of these thoughts will just escape your head.” “She always looks beautiful,” Korra mumbled softly, tugging at her tie. “No matter what the circumstance, she’s always beautiful.”

Pairing: Allison and Lydia, Teen Wolf

Plot: Allison cancelled their first wedding date. And by the time they canceled their third wedding, it was almost a running joke. Except for Lydia’s burned Dior dress.

Length: 2,300 words

“Let’s not invite any them,” she told Allison in the car, after they had gotten far enough away from wolfy ears. “We should elope to Vegas, get our marriage certificate, and never tell them any details.” “I’d rather go Gretna Green, in Scotland,” Allison said, as she was a strange woman, with a not so hidden fondness for Regency romances. This oddity had developed in their freshman year of college. Their dorm room had been littered with books by Jane Austen, Byron, and Sir Walter Scott. Eventually, Allison had given in and gotten a double major in wildlife management and English lit. “No,” Lydia said. Her life was not going to become a Georgette Hayer novel. Or Pride and Prejudice and Werewolves. “Paris? A spring wedding in the city of lights?” “Late May, I think,” Lydia conceded. “Not until I’ve defended my dissertation.” Allison hummed happily the whole drive back to their apartment. And that was the semester Lydia discovered that nearly the entire Department of Mathematical Sciences were vampires. Vampires in a doomsday cult, who had provided her with her full ride scholarship because of her connection with the damn tree stump. It had been very therapeutic to decapitate the vampires. And they still didn’t get married.

Pairing: Emma and Regina, Once Upon a Time

Plot: It’s a Swan Queen wedding!

Length: 1,800 words

Nerves. That’s all she was feeling. Today was the big day and the normally put together mayor was reduced to a nervous wreck. The room the brunette was in wasn’t that big and she had requested to be able to get ready in private because she didn’t want the hassle. It also was located in a small, but lavish building on Storybrooke Gardens’ property, where the ceremony was to be held. Her nerves could have been attributed to the dress she was wearing. The light blue knee length dress made her feel like a child more than anything. “Leave it to Emma to stray from the traditional” the mayor thought as she straightened out the fabric. Regina was always confident in front of people. She commanded attention everywhere she went, but this dress brought back feelings of the young girl she once was. The happy girl she once was. It made her feel vulnerable. But, being well practiced in suppressing her feelings, Regina made do. It was, after all, the dress Emma suggested.

Next week, at Ellen Simpson‘s behest, I’m going to do a round-up of fics that are set in different time periods, so send me your favorites or comment with them here! (All your Madam Vastra/Jenny, please.)