one breaks my body, and the other breaks my soul

"Don’t you just hate these things?" a voice said, and suddenly she was just there next to me, the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen from so close a vantage point.

There had been pretty girls in Ohio, sure. Girls I’d stared at just a little too long, thought about just a little too much. But she was in an entirely different league. Looking at this unexpected creature beside me made me feel guilty for every time I’d used words like “glamorous” or “exquisite” in the past, because surely nothing and no one was worthy of those words the way this girl was. And the fact that she was a real, live person, living in the same city, standing in the same room, attending the same party that I now was-

I wondered if some of her impossible radiance would rub off on me, if only I could figure out a way to touch her.

"I mean, I guess it’s nice that Tina’s doing this for her hick cousin, or whatever,” she continued, pausing to take a sip from her glass. “But the whole thing strikes me as sort of sad.”

It would be hours before I’d realize I had just been insulted. I was too transfixed. I just stood there, blinking at her, for what felt like ages.

"I don’t know; I think it’s kind of nice," I finally said, stupidly.

She sneered in response, and I’d never been so terrified or so turned on in my entire life. I suddenly got the strangest urge to run my tongue across her perfect top row of teeth. (x)

(via lesbianmorrigan)

“If you miss the train I’m on, you will know that I am gone”

But that last night in Lima? Those last moments with Rachel? That was a box best left untouched. The one other time he’d let himself go through it, he’d woken up in the hospital, alone and terrified. When he was discharged, Vanessa brought him home again, but they didn’t speak for three days. And during that time, he made herself believe that he’d somehow known she’d spent that night chasing muscle relaxers with scotch to visions of Rachel, and that that was why he’d been so angry. It was just easier to accept his jealousy than to even begin to think about how badly she’d scared him, how pissed he was at her for trying to leave him again.

At some point during her stay at the Hudson-Hummel house as Finn, Carole had said to her that all that mattered was doing the right thing, even if it was months down the line. It had occurred to Quinn at the time that Finn had probably been raised on sentiments like that; it explained a lot about his complete willingness to screw things up and his ridiculous, blind faith that everything would eventually work out. But it ran totally counter to the Fabray philosophy in which the wrong thing, once done, was all that mattered, regardless of how many right things you tried to do to make up for it.

Still, Lucas wanted to believe that what Carole had said was true. Because for all the mistakes they’d made, they’d done the right thing, eventually, in leaving.

Lucas hoped that, somehow, that would make some sort of difference in the end.(x)

(Source: quinnfabrai, via trappedinvacancy)

adventures in fanfiction

so…there’s like a…15% chance i’ll be updating “this little war”…eventually.  that chance would be significantly increased if i felt like i could get the pacing right, or figure out which of the two upcoming chapters i had in mind should go first.

inquiries and encouragement gladly accepted.

Everyone knows Rachel has the dance studio reserved every Thursday afternoon, but aside from their Glee Club routines, she never talks much about her dancing.

Quinn can see now that watching Rachel Berry dance is an entirely difference experience from watching her sing. Rachel’s voice comes from a place of complete confidence. Even when she starts a song softly, there’s never any doubt that she’s building toward yet another earth-shattering crescendo, or that she’ll strike every note perfectly on the way there and back.

But Rachel’s movements there in the dance studio come from somewhere deeper, somewhere vulnerable, and perhaps, Quinn suspects, somewhere maybe a little bit broken. There’s no clue in Rachel’s performance, no assurance, that everything will turn out alright in the end. Instead, it feels like any step could be the one shatters her into a million pieces.

(Source: michelemonteith, via patronustrip)

DVD Commentary: All Up the Seething Coast

counterpunches requested: Chapter Two of AUtSC

I started writing AUtSC about a year ago (sort of hard to believe it’s been that long), and I suppose it’s worth mentioning that this was back in the day when I had a “beta.”  He was just someone who contacted me after I had finished “Yield” and offered to help out.  At the time, I was just so happy to hear from somebody who responded positively to my writing, and who wanted to talk about my writing and these characters, that I went ahead and took him up on it.  It ended up not being the greatest working relationship, though, (there were some chapters where he gave useful advice, but I think our styles were just too different) and after a while, we parted ways.    

Anyway, that being said, I went back through my email and found that when I sent him the draft of this chapter, he didn’t really have any suggestions or edits.  I did find, however, that in the email to him, I told him that I thought this story would be over and done with in two or three short chapters. 

I guess I really didn’t know what I was talking about.

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to those who submitted dvd commentary requests…

I thought I was going to have time to write out my commentaries today because I was supposed to have a relatively laid back day at the office.  But now that I’ve been cursed out twice by my boss and feel like my brain is trying to claw its way out of my head, it looks like the commentaries will have to wait until tomorrow or later.

Sorry, dudes.


Cookies & Cream: Writing Meme!

Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what’s going on in the character’s…

any takers?

(Source: fictorium)

“If I had thought, even for a second, that you felt that way about me, I never would have put you in that position, Quinn.  You have to know that,” Rachel says sincerely, causing Quinn to swallow hard and look away.  “I just never imagined…I mean, I’m very flattered…”

Quinn winces at the word.  She knows Rachel isn’t just being kind, she’s being honest, and that’s what makes the sting of it so acute.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she says, hopeful that Rachel will understand that she’s just not ready for whatever it is that happened between them to be just one of those things that people can just talk about.  “I just…I wanted you to know…that I am sorry.  And I’m working on trying to become the kind of person who you should forgive.  It’s just…slower going than I thought.”

“Maybe you could come visit me in New York next year?” Rachel says at last.  There’s a touch of hopeful desperation in her voice that makes Quinn stop and think.  Maybe they’re not so different, she and Rachel.  Maybe they never have been.

(Source: shelleyhennigs, via brittanyistheunic0rn)

that awful moment when yet another fic idea pops into your head:

Despite everything, she knows there are people who, when looking back on high school, will still remember the three of them as some indomitable force, some trifecta of terror, cruising smoothly through the halls of McKinley with her at the helm.  And maybe that had been true, once, for an instant.  But it’s not at all the way Quinn remembers it.

i’m still working, i promise…

“You’re exhausted,” Leroy said, patting the sofa cushion next to him.  “It’s been a long day.”

Hiram sat down beside him and sighed, putting his head back and closing his eyes.

“Let’s just be thankful that we got through this, ok?” Leroy continued.  “She’s gotten this whole puppy love thing out of her system, and now she can just…focus on her future, her Steinhardt audition.”

Hiram couldn’t help but smile at that; his daughter, auditioning at NYU.

“There, you see?” Leroy said, noticing Hiram’s grin.  “Everything’s fine.”

But everything was not fine.  They’d seen it almost as soon as they’d switched on the television, a local news story about a horrific car crash involving a local teenage girl.  And then they’d flashed a picture up on the screen: a poised blonde in a bright red cheerleading uniform.

Hiram reached over and grabbed Leroy’s arm.  “Isn’t that-?”

It was.  Quinn Fabray.  The very same girl his daughter had been crying over earlier that day.

“I just don’t understand why she didn’t come,” Rachel had sniffled into his starched dress shirt, exhausted from almost an hour of sobbing.

Now he knew the answer to her question.

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