The girl in the background looks so pissed off. “I just wanted to pee at my prom in peace. I did not ask for the scissor sisters to barge in here in a rainbow explosion. For chrissake, this is a bathroom, not the afterparty at a Tegan and Sara concert. Go make out somewhere else..”
Stayed up all night reading this one, which I haven’t done in a while. And I’m only on chapter 8!
100% would recommend.
Flaws by Bastille (Live Acoustic Version)
You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve, and I have always buried them deep beneath the ground.
Dig them out. Let’s finished what we started.
Oh, look at my tabs!
- Yale freshman housing
- Yale academic programs
- A map of the Yale Campus
Am I getting ready to start my academic life at Yale?????
I’m writing Faberry!
Rin asks: Why does Quinn love Rachel?
Sophy says: Quinn loves Rachel because she is gay and wants to get in her pants.
What? Sometimes it’s that simple.
Okay, it’s not that simple. But there is no doubt in my mind that a part of Quinn’s early fixation on Rachel was coming from a place of repressed lust and a yearning to break out of her Daddy’s Little Heterosexual world and taste another in which she might be free.
I think that’s what Rachel is to Quinn in the beginning. Freedom, to which she is drawn and of which she is terrified. She is pornographic pictures on bathroom walls for other people to find funny. She is mean caricatures surrounded by hearts. She is never good or bad to Quinn. She is never ugly or beautiful. She is never wanted or walked away from. She is always both. And pretty soon she becomes everything.
For Rachel, knowing who Quinn really is is a journey. For Quinn, knowing who Rachel really is is over before it begins. She’s surprised, in season 1, when Rachel entreats her to stick with Glee, when she doesn’t use her pregnancy as an opportunity to torture her, not because she thinks Rachel’s that kind of person but because she expected her to pretend that she was.
Quinn expected Rachel to play games with her or at the very least she expected her to just not care. But she doesn’t. She reaches out. She walks away with her head held high. She is the least ridiculous thing Quinn has ever seen.
And that’s the moment when it all falls into place; that’s when Quinn knows why she zeroed in on Rachel Berry to torment. She’s strong. She knows who she is, even if she doesn’t quite know it yet, and she is on her way to something big.
Rachel has plenty of insecurities in season 1 and they never really go away. But she also has plenty of vigor and self-belief. She has a determination to live life on her own terms, and that is so sexy to Quinn that it makes her shudder (she tells herself she is repulsed).
Quinn never dreamed of being let into Rachel’s world the way Rachel dreamed of being let into hers, because she recognized right from the start that it was not some kind of exclusive club you could buy your way or even behave your way into. Rachel’s world was a state of being. Rachel’s world was much braver than Quinn thought she could ever be.
What she didn’t count on was how hard Rachel would try to show her how much better she is than she knows and how easy it is to believe her when she looks at you with those earnest and omniscient eyes. What she didn’t know - could never have imagined - was that she would someday tell Rachel the same things she needed to be telling herself.
You can’t change your past. But you can let go. And start your future.
Quinn loves Rachel for so many reasons: her decency, her boldness, the way she makes her laugh just by being who she is, her one-in-a-million talent, her ambition, her gentleness, the dimples in her cheeks when she throws serious smiles her way, the way her arms around her feel like a relief.
But above and beyond all else, Quinn loves Rachel because Rachel is how she came to love herself.
Rachel is in a somewhat aggressive posture, with her hand on her hip and her fingers raised and all Quinn can do is look lovingly at Rachel, almost like she’s thinking ‘omg Rachel’s so cute when she’s angry”?
I’m done. I just can’t.
JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL.
If there was something Quinn knew, it was struggle.
All her life, she had struggled to know her God, her face, her family, herself. Along the way, her struggles had determined the friends she’d made, the boys she’d kissed, and the would-be friends she’d pushed aside.
Quinn Fabray had led a cheerleading squad to victory, had supported a glee club to its attainment of national prestige, and had even brought another human being into existence.
Reading books, tucked away in the corner, had been her connection to Lucy. But Lucy hadn’t been cut out for the world of Quinn Fabray. Quinn had been a shield, a defense.
A lie that had become truth somewhere along the way.
But if Lucy had taught Quinn anything, it was that there was true merit to being faithful to yourself.
Despite the struggles.
“What are you thinking?”
The words barely escaped Quinn’s lips as her lungs exhaled them outward with a courage that had been building half her life and with gumption that she didn’t know she had accumulated inside herself somewhere along the way.
But she was met with an unfamiliar stillness.
If there was one person who seemed self-assured, self-righteous, and self-confident beyond all others, it was Rachel Berry. Hesitancy was not typical of her character.
Quinn would have given anything to hear what the girl was thinking, quiet and still below her.
I wish I could—
You have no idea—
Your lips look unbelievably soft…
Quinn had struggled.
She had struggled from day one on a seemingly endless timeline of pain and frustration, dues paid, and rewards earned but misplaced.
But here she was anyway—begging, pleading for this one chance happenstance to swing in her favor.
Let her see, her thoughts raged while her body remained steadfast, let her see that she is all there ever was.
Because, for Quinn, the answers were
I have some idea—
Trust me, yours do too…
Not even a quiver shook Rachel’s lips, but her body spoke where her mind could not. Her hesitancy in action was no match for the true desire of her heart; Rachel’s body moved of its own volition, and who was Quinn to argue?
Head, ducked; lips, touched; breath, caught.
If they weren’t destined for this moment, then Quinn surely didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Who was I ever and what could I have been in the absence of this?
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
The reciprocity of touch, the surge of passion, the way Quinn’s lips visibly wiped away the slightest hint of surprise.
“You are mine,” Rachel whispered.
There was the confidence, the courage, the girl of Quinn’s greatest realities.
The searing, verbal brand of ownership was nothing, to Quinn, if not everything.
“Always have been,” she replied. “Always will be.”
whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat poet wrote this??????
I wrote it.
I was drunk.
I’m really sorry.