float like a canonball
formerly - faberry-brittana
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Sidebar by - diannastonefield Tweedle Fake BoobsTitle: Rules Enough for Three
Fandom: Glee
Characters/Pairing: Rachel/Quinn
Rating: T
Spoilers: 3x14 (Season Three)
Length: (1/3?)
It was three am, the evening had worn on, and Lima General Hospital was winding down upon entering the night shift. The emergency cases had dropped in number, all of the operations had been done and dusted hours ago and no one had been shot or stabbed within the last few hours so it looked like it was going to be a slow one. But within the confines of Rachel Berry’s mind everything was rapidly disintegrating, whether from lack of sleep, or the chaotic events of the day - she was unsure. Everything she had once known was altered, everything she thought was safe and steady in her life had shattered into a million pieces. And what was so ironic is that everything was going so well to begin with.
“Just give me a minute, girls…” Rachel gave her soon-to-be bridesmaids a pleading smile as they all respectively nodded, rolled their eyes and mumbled harsh curses in Spanish before turning the corner.
She felt light-headed, she felt nauseous, she felt like all semblance of rational thought had left her mind - skipping jubilantly into the sunset, hand in hand with all her motor skills. It really felt like her body was urm-ing and ah-ing over whether she wanted to pass out or throw up. The voice on the phone brought her back to reality with a rather large bump.
“Quinn, Quinn are you still on the line? Are you alright? …Put yourself into the recovery position this instant Quinn Fabray!” the voice on the line crackled angrily, and she did for a good second considering doing it. There was a small snicker around the room.
“You’re what?” she said in a rather strangulated voice; something strange and new gripping tightly around her throat.
“…I’m pregnant, Quinn. I’m pregnant.” Nope, it didn’t even compute the second time.
The gadget flipped out a little and beeped annoyingly “Oh my god, what do you want from me?! Blood!” you frown at it, put out. Lea’s beautifully obnoxiously laugh washes over your ears and you point the camera at her smiling face. God, you love her face, the perfectly straight line of her white teeth, her adorably chubby cheeks which makes your inner annoying grandmother want to explode out in all her pinching glory, the thick strong lines of her eyebrows framing those beautifully expressive eyes, of which are lined by annoyingly long eyelashes.
Her nose almost bonks the camera and you let out a little huff of laughter at her protests. You love her in the mornings, she’s always been a morning person, it’s annoying really. You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards, twice! Hair sticking up on one side, pillow marks on your face. But no, she’s chipper and chirpy, ready for whatever might face her, she glows. Sometimes you want to bottle some of it; ‘Essence of Lea’. You want to wrap her in your arms and bask her warmth, letting sink into every pore of your being.
“Di! No, it’s too early!” The camera captures her perfectly. You close the flappy door, sending it into hibernation (do they collect nuts too?) and you smile, glad that you now have something to store this moment. You’re glad that in this new world, full of technology you can share Lea’s light with everyone, her amazing transcendence. Yes, Lea transcends all things, everyone should have some of her light. She does that with her singing, she gives everyone a little piece of her every time she sings, she pours her entire being into every note and it brings you to your knees. Weeping.
You vaguely process that she’s calling your name and your eyes flicker up from her lips, that tantalizing cupid’s bow curling upwards. “Did you fall down the rabbit hole again?” Ever since Chris tweeted she insists that’s where you go when your eyes cloud over. You apologize and she moves closer to you, sighing softly against your collarbone. “Next time I’ll bring you along.” What she doesn’t know is that at the other end of the hole, there’s Lea’s smile and Lea’s lips, her eyes and lashes, where the only music is her obnoxious laugh playing a sweet melody. Sure she falls. She falls straight into the arms of an angel. Her Lea.
“We’re about to have a smackdown…” You want to roll your eyes because, great, now you sound like Santana, and that’s never a good route to go down. Did she just roll her eyes? Oh you just want to wring her perfectly sculpted neck (wait, what Fabray?). You reach out and grab her arm. That’s another two things that you hate about Rachel you can add to the ever growing list of things to hate. You hate that your hand tingles from where you touched her supple skin, you try to convince yourself because it’s been a while since you’ve actually made contact with another human being. You hate the way that she makes you regret things; that she can bring you to your knees. The way with just one look you want to sob at her feet and beg for forgiveness, because you know she’ll hold you, when no one else would be willing to. And then she looks up at you with those god -gosh- darn puppy dog eyes and all the fight and bite just falls away from you.
“I don’t hate you.” Is it possible to feel any smaller?
You hate that about Rachel, her ability to forgive. “Why I’ve been awful to you.” The words ring deafeningly in your head, you have, you’ve been everything you hate. You’ve become your father…
The next day, whilst you’re sitting in your familial (ha, what a joke.) living space watching your father futilely try to balance a tumbler of scotch on the arm of the couch. The heading on the back page of the paper he’s reading catches your eye, in bold letters; Loathing is often mistaken for loving.
You cry yourself to sleep that night, and not because the small cuts from where the shard of glass of the scotch glass had embedded itself into your back earlier that night still sting (did you sweep under the piano?).
No, it’s because you positively loathe Rachel Berry.
It’s strange really, how you both almost sense each other. Finn spoke about the whole “tethered to each other” business and Santana had mentioned to you this story about ‘the red string of fate’ on one of her sappy day where B had denied her, her “needs” again. You’d always roll your eyes or dismiss it as the ramblings of a moron. But there was something about the way your eyes are always drawn to her, well, apart from being incredibly frustrating, it’s also soul-witheringly confusing. The way your eyes meet from across the corridor is simultaneously sickeningly cliche and nauseatingly intense.
You burst into the closest girl’s bathroom, hands gripping the rim of the counter with a hold so tight you’d be able to see the whites of your knuckles if your eyes weren’t screwed shut in a futile attempt to drive the deep burning brown oracles from your mind. Why did it have to be her to always draw this kind of emotion from you? You’re Quinn Fabray, you’re a master of your emotion, heck, you didn’t even think you had any, anymore. And yet every time that girl so much as looks at you, the overload of emotions makes you sick to your stomach.
“Quinn?” Of course she’d follow you, that was so predictably her it almost makes you want to cry. “Is everything okay?”
No, you want to scream in her face, no, nothing is okay. But you won’t give her the satisfaction of yet another meltdown. So you breathe deeply through your nose, open your eyes, now back to the calm, cold, collected Quinn Fabray and ram past her with a “Like you even care, Berry.”
And as you leave, you swear you can hear a hushed “I do…so much.” But you know it’s just your masochistic mind playing tricks on you. At least…you think so.
Your pencil pauses on the paper as you look up to see if the angle of her nose is as it should be, it’s in the motion of erasing the straight line because if you look really closely, her septum is deviated oh so slightly (a cheerleading accident in freshman year, where an extra exuberant Cheerio’s high kick was just a little too close for comfort). But you can’t finish it because she’s looking at you with that look that makes your heart stop, literally it stops for a long moment and thuds in complaint as if to say “what the heck is wrong with you it’s just…oh.”
“Are you okay?” your eyes flutter shut, as if that would help cement the hushed tremble of her alto in your mind and memory. You nod absently because no matter what, if she asks you a question, you’ll do your damn best to answer her.
When you open your eyes you almost choke on the sob that begs to erupt from your chest, it’s painful, looking at those swirling abysses of hazel, flecks of green dancing joyfully and the pure unabashed adoration overfilling them makes you light-headed.
It’s aimed at you. You still can’t wrap your head around that.
“You’re so beautiful, Quinn.” You whisper her name like a reverence, a prayer, you’ve never been overly religious, sure you celebrate the holidays with your Fathers but…never to the extent Quinn was - is. But you thank God every day for the Angel in front of you.
This time you do tear up because even though her expression hasn’t change, her entire aura flares up, people call you a star, but nothing can compare to that. The way Quinn explodes into life when you tell her that, it’s blinding, it’s beautiful…it’s Quinn.
“I love you, Rachel.” Each time she says that…well, you think that you might just die a happy woman.
“I don’t care, Rachel.” she adorned her ‘Skank Stare’ as she dubbed it “I’m not coming back.”
“Don’t give me that. I know you care, Qu-“
“Shut up.”
“No! I know you care, you care so god damn much it rips you apart. You care about everyone and everything so much that you lay yourself out in front of everyone and you stand before them bare. And I know, okay, I know that you have been ruined Quinn Fabray, you’ve been cut, teared down, beaten and you are broken.” she heaved a breath “But I am saying right now, that I’m here for you. And I’m not going to leave.”
Quinn scoffed quietly and shook her head. “Everyone leaves, Rachel.”
“You’re right. Everyone does.” she stepped forward, her hands clenching and unclenching slowly “But that’s not to say that I’m going to leave you broken like everyone else has.”
“I’m so sick of it. The expecations.” she gritted her teeth “Everyone needs something from me, Coach, Mr. Schue, my own chil-“
Rachel caught the girl in her rapid decent, wrapped her in her small arms, cradled her like a child just risen from a nightmare and stroked her hair as the sobs wracked the blonde’s body. “Let me help, Quinn. I swear, I’m not going to break you.” She whispered almost inaudibly into her hair.
The camera fades from Finn face in the state of ecstasy to Rachel’s blank face, tears are clearly making tracks down her cheeks and the shot pans out. Her legs are tucked under her, she is sitting on a bench in an alcove, her hands playing nervously with the hem of her skirt. She is suddenly brought back to reality by the noise of a throat being cleared off screen, she looks up.
Rachel: If you’re here to make me feel any less substantial then I already feel Quinn, I’d rather you did it in Glee club where everyone could have their input as well. It’s only fair. [she absently wipes at her tears]
Quinn replies with nothing and simply sits down demurely next to her, the camera widens to a two shot. The scene is parallel to Season one Rachel/Quinn comfort scene.
Quinn: [quietly, after a moment of silence] I know what you think I am, Rachel. You think I’m a cold-hearted, apathetic, dem-
Rachel: [quickly] Quinn you know I don’t th-
Quinn: [purses her lips] Don’t interrupt me.
Rachel surprisingly doesn’t retort back, the moment resonates with Quinn, and confirms her suspicions.
Quinn: [resumes] …people don’t believe that I have any kind of emotional empathy for anyone. [then] And they would have been right. Two years ago. But I know what you’re going through. The regret, the coil in your stomach that has nothing to do with what you did. That clench in your chest, that feeling you just can’t shake off…
She turns to Rachel for a moment, they make eye contact. The moment is heavy with curiousity for the ending of the sentence and the palpable energy that surrounds them.
Quinn: [breaks eye contact, looks at the door, her voice is full of emotion]…no matter how many times you try to wash it off your skin.
Rachel: [stumbles over her words] I-I just wanted to be ac-
Quinn: [gentler than ever seen before] You don’t have to explain yourself to me. [suddenly cold once more] I, of all people, don’t need to know what happened.
Rachel looks down at the floor, seemingly more morose. Quinn stands up and motions to leave before turning to look down at the girl.
Quinn: [her eyes are intense] Your plan is still intact, Rachel. Your voice is still safe, don’t think that this ruins everything. You’re still going to make it. [she attempts to leave once more]
Rachel calls out to Quinn quietly, the blondes hand on the door handle.
Rachel: Thank you.
Quinn: It’s a favor I’ve owed you for a while now. Like I said, I don’t hate you, Rachel.
[more to herself] I never have. [exits]
Aww anon, never be sorry to ask me anything! I adore you guys.
I’m going to bundle all superpower/supernatural fics I know together m’kay.
- Possibly the most realistic and emotionally exhausting superpower fic I have ever read. (it’s long but holy sweet hell is it worth it!)
(a lot of novel-concept’s fics are superpower/supernatural)
- A little vampire to satisfy your needs.
- I love all of Ana’s shit
- Just started this recently
- I kind of just love this. (COUGH NEEDS UPDATING COUGH)
- The only zombie fic to have made me bawl my eyes out
That’s all pretty much Faberry. I’mma update you with Brittana and other generically awesome superpower fics as soon as I can :)
** UPDATE ** (thanks to lameassmadeupname and halbblut-prinz)
Aww anon, never be sorry to ask me anything! I adore you guys. I’m going to bundle all superpower/supernatural fics I know together m’kay. (a lot of novel-concept’s fics are superpower/supernatural) That’s all pretty much Faberry. I’mma update you with Brittana and other generically awesome superpower fics as soon as I can :)
(Anonymous asked: rachel is in love with quinn, but doesn’t know how to tell her, so she tells her anonymously in her tumblr ask box. they start chatting and quinn doesn’t back off when she finds out that Rachel is a girl.)
Before reading, listen to these songs:
(Anonymous asked:
rachel is in love with quinn, but doesn’t know how to tell her, so she tells her anonymously in her tumblr ask box. they start chatting and quinn doesn’t back off when she finds out that rachel is a girl.)
|Part 1|
(Anonymous asked:
rachel is in love with quinn, but doesn’t know how to tell her, so she tells her anonymously in her tumblr ask box. they start chatting and quinn doesn’t back off when she finds out that rachel is a girl.)
|Part 2|
