queen of the angels

don't you see what you're finding? this is heaven in hiding.

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bstrdsofyng‌:

after spending the last few weeks in juvie, having the freedom to go where puck pleased once again was, as confusing as it sounded, overwhelming. there had been a strict routine the inmates had to follow while under detainment, each minute planned out for them, each meal pre-established, each guard at their post, each second to ponder how they made the mistakes to get there. being left to one’s thoughts held a different meaning when inside of a cell– it made him even look *forward* to when they were in a classroom. him, noah fucking puckerman. the guy who tossed nerds into dumpsters and shamed them for getting their good grades that he couldn’t even dream of achieving became the guy who kept his eyes on his book and made no disruptions. the reason he had even been released so soon? good behavior. he was on patrol, and it was all thanks to learning what it meant to be truly alone. he had never wanted that feeling again, and yet, the first few days of being home resulted in puck doing exactly that. he didn’t text the football team to ask where the party was at. he didn’t text the glee club asking what songs he should be preparing for the next meeting. no asking if santana was available to hook up, or if brittany was too since he had a dry spell to end. nothing. puck just stayed at home and melted into having freedom, only finding he didn’t know *what* to do with it.

in the end, tuesday became wednesday, wednesday somehow melted into thursday night and from there, the morning light peaked over the horizon to signify it was sunday. which meant tomorrow was monday– his first day officailly back at mckinley. the first day he was going to have to get it together and act as if prison had made him a bigger bad ass. not a traumatized young man with a still healing nipple thanks to a cafeteria scuffle his first week. the mere thought of going there and facing the people that knew him before prison made his stomach into knots. and then make the knots have butterflies landing on top of them. he knew he couldn’t not go, but he didn’t want to go it alone. he wanted to know he had someone on his side– someone glad he was back, someone to know he was back, and maybe even know how awful it all had been so they could look out for him. it was a big role to fill, he was aware, however his mind knew one person who could do it. one person he wanted to have do it. and luckily, it was one person he knew the whereabouts of on a sunday afternoon. given he was jewish, knowing about church services wasn’t entirely on him. he had tried to help take quinn on sundays when they lived together, but once she stopped asking, he stopped offering. it seemed merecedes had taken up the task anyway, though now he wished perhaps he had kept at it. then  maybe he would have known when to show up to be in time for a service, rather than be the one to arrive as the doors opened for the crowds to flow out. he hadn’t meant to be late, let alone this late.

defeat weighted on his shoulders as he sat in his truck, a small bouquet of four daises in his palm. showing up to church with flowers now wouldn’t have the same meaning– they would seem too much like apology daises for coming at the end of service and not ‘i’ve missed you, i’ve thought about you, i’m happy to see you’ daises as intended. placing them on the front seat beside him, puck was sure they’d find their proper meaning again once he had quinn in the car with him. getting out and going to her, that was the hard part, especially given she didn’t seem to be coming outside like many were. puck didn’t know much about other religions, but he had to hope that he was going to be allowed inside the house of worship despite the sermon being over. granted, if god didn’t deny him, surely one of the judgmental people of lima would do it. still, he opened his door and let his feet take him across the pavement, ignoring any eyes casting looks in his direction as to not lose his nerve. not this time. he needed to see a familiar face of someone who knew what it meant to have their life drastically alerted. someone that understood him. someone that just knew him. and that someone was talking to some guy with hair that was only slightly more noticable than the way he was looking at quinn fabray. he should have let that stop him. he should have taken the lessons he learned in juvie of laying low and keeping to himself. yet there he was, continuing to get closer to the pair, eyes locked on them even as quinn clearly caught sight of him. she didn’t smile. he still kept walking.

“hey q, good to see you, big mazel to you and the big guy on this heavenly sunday,” puck greeted far too casually. apparently his ability to play the part his reputation expected was easier than he worried. his chin turned towards quinn to signify without any doubt, he was there for her and not johnny wannabe bravo with his goody good boy charm puck practically felt on his walk over. at least, compared to *him* this guy sure probably looked that way. standing far too close than he should have, puck put himself right beside quinn, arms bumping and now both looking like a united front despite the fact quinn hadn’t known he was coming– let alone out of jail. some kind of instinct to ensure he and quinn would hang out took over though, not wanting the have three be a crowd. that already happened with them once before– the results were everywhere in his many complicated, strained relationships. he wasn’t doing himself any favors now either, especially as he put an arm around quinn’s shoulders. he wasn’t touching her inappropriately, but it was still likely inappropriate for him to be touching her so possessively, not pulling her in but still laying some kind of claim, “who’s the bottle blonde you’re talking to? one of the youth group presidents?” he meant it as a joke, really, he didn’t, but the attitude behind it was more defensive than anything. it sounded like a jab, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help it. perhaps some lessons at juvie had rubbed off, just none of the good ones.

she’s the first to admit religion has always been a big part of her life.  at first, it started out with her parents forcing quinn and her older sister to go to sermons.  they would wear their sunday best and the fabrays would sit in pew right up front.  as she reflects, she’s sure her dad only did it for appearances.  after all, he had to have the perfect family.  she remembers, when she was young, she used to put up a fight to try and stay home so she could watch early morning cartoons like all the other kids her age.  but, as she got older, she really started appreciating the entire experience.  in a sense, church had become a safe place for her when the rest of the world was collapsing around her.  she would look at the stained glass windows while wearing her cross of gold and feel at peace.  it’s no surprise that when the blonde got pregnant she still tried to maintain a sense of normalcy and went as often as she could.  she found herself going to different churches to avoid running into her parents, or worse her parents’ judgmental friends.  eventually, she settled at mercedes’ home base for the latter months of her pregnancy.  when she moved back in judy, though, she couldn’t wait for sunday and to be back where she belonged.  to feel that peace again for two whole hours each week.  

except being back at church, listening to the once inspirational sermons, doesn’t make her feel as good as she hoped.  she doesn’t think it’s the priest’s fault.  she’s pretty sure it’s her.  she now has a hole in heart that can’t be filled back in.  she’s managed to convince everyone she’s fine.  her mom doesn’t even ask anymore.  the glee club sure as hell hasn’t checked in to see if she’s alright.  quinn thinks she even convinces herself she’s fine a little more each time she lies about it to someone else.  that being said, she really does like to think she’s changed.  she’s spent all summer trying to reinvent herself into someone better.  stronger.  maybe that’s why she feels so drawn to the boy in front of her.  sam doesn’t know the full extent of what she’s been through.  he doesn’t know there’s a living, breathing reminder of all the hurt, loss, and joy she experienced last year.  he doesn’t know that reminder is out there in the world calling someone else mom.  frankly, he doesn’t know her and she likes that.  quinn can be anyone when she’s around sam.  and for a second, she starts to think the only person she wants to be is someone who’s a part of his life.  

that is until she sees noah puckerman again.  as he continues to close the distance between them, quinn’s flooded with three distinct memories: the moment she found out she was pregnant, when puck sang beth to her, and especially when he said he loved her.  she didn’t tell him then, but his answer meant more to her than he knew.  it validated that their daughter wasn’t just a product of wine coolers, a broken vow, a tangled web of lies, and her deeply rooted self-esteem issues.  not that either of them could ever really think that, anyway.  seeing puck right now, however, causes her stomach to do the same flip it did the last time she saw him before he was carted off to juvie and, frankly, every time before that, too.  she was supposed to be moving on from her past, moving on from him and from their daughter, but it seems like fate has another idea in mind.  for a moment, it’s like she and puck are the only two people in the room.  everyone else disappears and she lets out a relieved sigh for the first time in weeks, the first since she found out he was locked up.  she’s glad he’s okay.  

his voice brings her back to reality.  as his arm wraps around her shoulders, she instinctively wants to lean into the familiar feeling.  she wants him to know she missed him and that she’s really happy to see him.  she still hasn’t said anything, her hazel eyes glued onto puck absorbing his features as if it’s the last time she’s ever going to see him.  truthfully, she’s at a loss for words, anyway.  his next question hits her like a ton of bricks.  sam.  sam’s still here.  he sees where puck’s arm has landed.  he sees how quinn hasn’t stopped staring since puck walked in.  “sorry,” she tries to laugh in order to play this situation off as innocently as possible.  “this is sam.  he just moved to lima,”  she offers very matter of fact as she also shoots the blonde boy a small smile.  hopefully he can tell how apologetic she is.  after all, this certainly isn’t what she expected when she walked over to him only moments ago.  quinn never anticipated her two worlds colliding like this and certainly not this soon.  “sam, this is my--” she pauses, unsure how to describe her relationship with puck.  ‘baby daddy’ doesn’t seem appropriate for church.  “this is my friend puck.”  the blonde finishes introductions, scanning sam’s face for any kind of reaction.  she knows that this, surely, will scare him off.  how could it not?  she lets her eyes dart from one boy to the next before realizing puck still has his arm wrapped around her shoulders.  she lightly steps away, not wanting to make this entire interaction more uncomfortable than it has already become.  “i didn’t know you were back,”  quinn says elusively, not letting on to where exactly puck has been.  she also makes a point to say it so sam knows she wasn’t anticipating being interrupted like this.  

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PLEASE DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME → GABRIELLE APLIN

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bstrdsofyng‌:

puck knows he isn’t the ideal partner when it comes to  brain teasers (mainly because what kind of loser does those for fun), but he isn’t stupid. his brain had its moments, like figuring out how to perfectly ration his time in a threeway to ensure no one felt left out, and that ms. zimbowski only checked the first and last page of most homework assignments before giving a grade. the things that puck noticed and used to his advantage weren’t the typical, and it tended to get him in trouble. trouble like getting blamed for a popularity list he didn’t write. or trouble like getting scolded for figuring out who actually did. he understands why she’s so frantic and quick to both silent and brush him off, but he can’t just drop it, “no, stop saying that, we can’t just drop it. fabray, what the hell?” rolls of his tongue without thought. quinn fabray was captain of he cheerleading squad, president of the celibacy club, honor roll student, head bitch in charge… she wasn’t someone who went around making lists for seemingly no purpose. especially one with no gain as far as puck noticed. moments ago the girl was reading a book to herself rather than gossiping in the hallways, starting rumors about the very people she’d be standing with, “do you even know how much shit you could get in? like detention and i’m talking, lots of it.” his hand loosely grabbed quinn’s arm, guiding her body so he could stand in front of her, eyes glancing now and then to make sure no one was lurking, “we can’t just reschedule your appointments, i had to pull some stuff to get your ultrasound in the first place without insurance.” the more he speaks, the more his concern grows about her. they weren’t very talkative at home, puck trying to let her have as much ‘her’ time as she needed. he grew up with his mom being the same way, so it seemed normal to leave each other to their own devices. now he can’t help but wonder if he hadn’t done that, he’d see where this impulsive behavior had come from. his eyes softened, body getting closer in an attempt to keep things more between them, hand dropping lower to have the pad of his thumb gently pressed on the crease of her forearm and carefully cradling her elbow, “why’d you do it? to get back at rachel for the whole run joey run thing? i don’t get it. explain it to me.”

she can’t believe he even cares.  of all people, puck is the literal last person she thought would be phased by this dumb glist.  frankly, quinn would have expected a guilt trip from rachel, maybe even finn, but certainly not puck.   he throws kids in dumpsters, for god’s sake, and is still lecturing the blonde for writing a harmless list.  when did he suddenly get morals?  besides, most of the time, he’s oblivious to things that don’t revolve around him and quinn had just assumed this would be another one of those things.  truthfully, though, she can’t tell if she’s more upset or impressed that he figured it out.  she glances around the more secluded part of the hallway to make sure it’s safe to finish this conversation here.  she silently wishes the bell would ring so she has an excuse to hurry to class, but no such luck.  “i’m not getting detention.  mr. schue covered for me with figgins, so it’s fine,”  she assures him, surprised her ultrasound appointments are what he’s thinking about right now.  she’s shaking her head when he mentions rachel and her pathetic project, “no, i don’t care about her, puck.”  she’s annoyed he brings her up -- yet another guy in her life concerned about rachel freakin’ berry.  she also makes a mental note to ask him when he and rachel got so chummy later.  “you wouldn’t get it,” she says, echoing the words he used only moments ago.  “you can sleep around all you want and people think it’s cool.  i make one mistake and my entire world is turned upside down.”  she finds her icy exterior melting away and she’s growing more vulnerable by the second.  god, she’s pretty sure she’s about to cry again and she curses her baby hormones for making her so moody.  “so excuse me for trying to salvage some part of my life,”  she pauses, forcing her thoughts back into some semblance of order.  she’s pretty sure the old quinn would have stormed off by now, so she’s giving herself some credit for still remaining in the hallway with him.  “like i said, mr. schuester handled it.  so, i think we can drop it now.”  she thinks she should feel relieved that the truth is out, but she doesn’t.  she still feels so broken.  

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

they got to know each other really well during his sophomore year. being new to a school and getting slushied as a greeting wasn’t what he had planned, but he remembers it felt like quinn and finn both took him under their wings and made his experience at mckinley a good one. if he hadn’t walked into the choir room that fateful day, sam thinks so much would be different. he probably wouldn’t be in ohio right now. there was no reason to come back barring the glee club. sometimes he wonders a little too much about it, picturing himself spending nights at stallionz covered in glitter and not much else. quinn would probably still be at yale, finn would probably still be heading the glee club in mr. schue’s absence, but what about him? no disrespect towards mr. package and cobra, but sam never wanted to spend the rest of his life on stage alongside them. because of people like quinn, he got to come back home and be part of something as special as the glee club, but he might not have even stuck it out in the first place if it wasn’t for the way she washed slushie from his hair. everything happens for a reason. it’s something sam’s had to believe to make peace with what life has thrown him, his family, and even has friends. the older he gets, the more of the world he sees, the more genuine his belief in those words becomes. there’s a reason he and quinn are in the same place at the same time again, there’s a reason her mom burnt the turkey. it feels wrong to use fate as an excuse to spend more time with quinn, but better men than him would do the exact same thing. besides, it’s always easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission and he can tackle that later. right now, he’s taking quinn up on her offer to drive the two of them home, as scary as it feels to be behind the wheel of such a nice car. even worse, he’s trying to impress her, whether he wants to admit it or not. all he can picture is swerving off the road to avoid a cow and sending her into a panic while her car careens into a ditch. it might make a cool action shot, but unfortunately, life isn’t a james cameron movie. it’s not even a gary scott thompson movie and those aren’t even as good as james cameron’s. it’s just life. so maybe he should be careful, he thinks. before he can spend too much time thinking, he’s reaching to finish opening the door for quinn. it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, after all. it’s not long before he’s sitting beside her, finding that this cute little thing handles a little differently than the hunk of junk he’d grown used to before groceries became more important than a cool car. ‘ remember the way? ’ he asks, looking over at her for a brief second. ‘ i do, ’ he makes sure to add, not wanting quinn to think he’s that bad with directions. sure, sometimes he mistakes a right for a left, but it’s mostly muscle memory now. ‘ just wondering if you do too, ’ sam clarifies, figuring they may as well give into the nostalgia surrounding them and this entire situation.

She remembers when they were dating, the blondes spent a lot of time at his old place.  Truth be told, she avoided being at her house just about every opportunity she had.  From the second she moved back in with Judy that summer, it never felt like home.  She was haunted by memories of moments she didn’t want to relive and by ghosts she certainly didn’t want to see again.  That’s probably also the reason she applied to a school all the way in Connecticut, now that she thinks about it.  The further away she is from her past, the better.  But, when she and Sam became an item way back when, she finally had a reason not to stay confined within the claustrophobic walls of her house on Dudley Road and she was grateful.  They weren’t together long -- she screwed that relationship up, too -- but she recalls all the nights she spent there with him babysitting.  She remembers him rambling incessantly about some comic book as they sat on his couch after a long day.  In all honestly, back then, she would have much rather watched the latest Marvel movie with Sam than deal with the baggage that was waiting for her at home.  Quinn guesses the reason she’s still so comfortable with Sam was because, in a way, he was the light at the end of her very dark tunnel.  He forgave her for all her indiscretions and there were a few.  He also provided a distraction when she needed it the most.  In the few short months she was Sam Evans’ girlfriend, she was happy.  Until she wasn’t.  Until the memories and the ghosts escaped from those claustrophobic walls and started following her wherever she went.  Lucky for her, they hadn’t quite made it to New Haven yet.  “Of course I do,” she says through a smile as his question fills the silence in her car.  Quinn thinks she’s only been to his new place once or twice.  She didn’t keep track, butt she’s pretty sure the entire Glee Club was over there to help Sam move in over the summer.  She also knows for a fact there was another time she was there -- one that she’s not at all eager to forget.  “Do you remember that day we were watching Stevie and Stacy?  Right before I left for Yale.  They were begging you to put up that tire swing,” Quinn starts to laugh as the image pops into her head like a movie.  “You were so sure you tied it tight enough, but as soon as you tried it out, the entire thing collapsed.  I think I have the video somewhere,” she’s still laughing as she unlocks her phone and begins to search for it.  “That was a really good day,” she concludes, her eyes drifting from her phone screen over to Sam.  She realizes this is the first time she’s really looked at him the entire day.  She keeps her gaze on him for a moment, taking him in.  She’s not sure if it’s the nostalgia or what, but he looks good.  He looks like someone that she shouldn’t have let go all those years ago.  

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

their situations are different, and at times it seemed like they couldn’t be more different, but he knows quinn really gets it, gets everything he’s gone through in the short time they’ve known each other. sure, she can’t comprehend what it’s like living out of a hotel and getting up on stage every night, stripping down to nearly nothing, and grabbing at dollar bills to make sure her little brother had shoes that’d survive the rainy walks to and from school, but it’s the principle of the thing. she knows what it’s like to have a good life turned upside down and come out better for it. obviously sam didn’t know her before the whole beth thing, but he figures he likes her so much now that he couldn’t possibly have liked her as much before. and maybe he’s a little better now, too. ask him how and he’ll come up blank, but it’s the thought that counts and he thinks he’s grown for the better. he hopes quinn would agree. walking out of a soup kitchen on thanksgiving, he thinks she would. the proof’s in the pudding, after all. when she speaks, it’s just extra reassurance that his thoughts aren’t leading him astray, that quinn recognizes the change in him and still thinks he’s a good guy.  sam swears he’s said the very same thing to her, but it makes him smile anyway. they both deserve good things. maybe he’s biased, but he thinks they deserve good things a little more than anyone else who’d ever set foot in the choir room back at mckinley. he knows for a fact she does. now, with yale to call home and a posh red beetle, he thinks she’s getting all those good things. then she gets a text from her mom telling her she burnt the turkey and sam feels like he’s getting his fair share of good things too. it feels a little sadistic to think that way, but he can’t help it. his morals have always been the slightest bit misguided when it came to quinn. ‘ what are you talking about? i’m sure finn’ll have a nice thanksgiving too. he’s always having a good time even if he doesn’t know what’s going on. i sorta admire that about him, ’ he nods, silently hoping that every family in lima has a nice holiday, especially the ones they’ve just served. regardless, he knows he’ll enjoy his day. he just hopes quinn will be a part of that. at least, more a part of it than she already has been. it doesn’t seem likely at first, quinn being ever the polite guest and refusing to impose. it’s not an imposition at all, though. after all, sam offered and he knows his family would love to see her again. ‘ i’m positive. we always have room for one more, ’ he smiles, hoping his offer will force any shred of doubt from her mind and convince her that this is the right thing to do.

She’s only nineteen, but she’s sure she’s already had more life experiences than your average college freshmen.  She tries not to dwell on them anymore -- even though she knows burying them deep inside isn’t the healthiest move either.  The last time she did that, she spent an entire summer with pink hair and smelled like an ashtray.  Definitely not her best days.  But she’s changed.  She’s stopped letting her past define her, or at least she’s tried to, anyway.  And Quinn knows out of all the friends she made at McKinley, Sam is one of the only ones who can truly relate to that sentiment.  Sure, he didn’t have to give up a living, breathing part of himself or have to wheel around the halls for half of senior year, but he had to endure his own fair share of struggles.  Despite it all, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him stop and take a minute to think of himself.  Even now, he’s inviting her to his dining room table so she doesn’t have to be alone.  And it’s in that moment that Quinn realizes she sure is thankful for Sam Evans.   She smiles at his Finn comment knowing he’s right.  If there’s one thing Finn Hudson loved, it was a good Thanksgiving dinner.  She silently hopes he doesn’t have access to a boom box, though.  Finn’s track record with those were less than ideal, after all.  Shaking those thoughts from her head, she glances around the parking lot.  Judging from how empty it is, she assumes Sam couldn’t have driven himself to the soup kitchen.  She tosses her keys to him and walks over to passenger door and begins to open it for herself.  “Okay, Evans, you’re driving.”  And it’s as she sits down and buckles her seat belt that she starts to think that, maybe, this Thanksgiving won’t be so bad.  

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

charm is a good way to put it, he thinks. sam doesn’t think he really has any talents aside from his ability to win people over. maybe it’s his looks or the impressions or a combination of both. either way, he’s thankful he’s got some of that in his back pocket. some men might use it for evil, but quinn knows he’s just messing around with her, so as far as he’s concerned, sam’s using his power for good. after all, she’s smiling, and what could be wrong about that? it’s infectious and familiar, bringing him back to the girls’ bathroom sophomore year. the setting seems creepy, just like the fact that he’s thanking his lucky stars for all his charm, but it’s never been like that with quinn. sure, he’s been overtly flirting with her since the moment they met, but that’s just what kids their age do. of course, she doesn’t really fall into that bracket anymore. quinn’s a college girl now. she might not want to flirt with him anymore. if that’s the case, he swears he’ll stop, but he hasn’t heard her complain just yet, and he’s been hanging on every word all morning. if she wasn’t into it, he’d get the hint. ‘ and you haven’t lost that uncomfortable smile when you can’t accept a compliment, ’ he points out, bringing their texted winks to life as he shoots one in her direction. it’s quick, hardly noticeable, really, but it’s there. moving forward, he tries to play it a little cooler than that, still as obsessed with his image as he was years prior. maybe even more, if that’s possible. ‘ it’ll be fun. it’s always fun. i think they’re just happy to be back home this year, y’know? ’ he explains, knowing quinn will get it without needing anymore detail. obviously he’s happy too, but he’s older and he understands how these things work. that’s not to say he understands the economy, however, because he doesn’t. not in the slightest bit. why couldn’t they just print more money for him and his family to have? the question haunts him to this day. but he’s still able to process the changes they all suffered through over the last few years. he’s not sure stevie and stacy, at their age, could. he’s lost in his thoughts when her phone buzzes, only looking back towards her when he hears her sigh and talk about her burnt turkey. later tonight, he’ll have to thank the big guy upstairs, but he thinks a simple glance will do for right now. ‘ looks like you just made new plans, ’ he tells her, wishing he had a nice car like hers to whisk quinn away in, but that might be kidnapping, so maybe it’s better that he doesn’t. ‘ we always have extra turkey if you want a plate. no gluten, either, ’ he tells her, hoping that’ll be an enticing enough offer to allot him a few more moments of her time.

She lets both the wink and his comment about her smile slide.  She’s grown used to guys being nice and accommodating, so she’s not sure if he’s flirting or just being Sam.  To be honest, she’s not sure if she wants him to be flirting anyway.  She’s in a relationship, albeit a messy and complicated one.  She lives in New Haven and hardly has the energy for some long distance thing with a high school boy back home.  There just were too many forces against them just like during her junior year.  That being said, she decides Sam’s just being his friendly self.  She doesn’t have time for anything else.  Regardless of all that,  though, she’s in no hurry to get in her little red car and drive away.  She’s still leaning against it when his voice fills the space between them.  Quinn’s aware they haven’t had much interaction in the months she’s been gone, but she’s pleased to see that Sam seems to be doing okay.  She knows better than to ask about his family’s financial situation, so she’s relieved when he mentions they’d all be together this year.  “Yeah,” she agrees wholeheartedly, taking that as a sign that things were more stable with him than they had been in the past.  Truthfully, Quinn knows just how tough the curve balls life throws your way can be sometimes.  She thinks she can safely say she knows better than anyone.  And she has the Ryan Seacrest tattoo to prove it.  “You deserve good things, Sam. I’m glad at least one family in Lima gets to have a happy Thanksgiving.”  She’s still annoyed at her mother.  Quinn’s sure Judy will be gone by the time she gets home -- probably leeching onto one of her friend’s families who serve the hard alcohol at dinner.  She’s rolling her eyes at the thought of going home to an empty house when Sam’s offer breaks her from her trance.  “No, I couldn--” she begins, but stops herself.  As she’s smirking at his mention of the gluten free turkey, she’s seriously weighing her options.  Spending Thanksgiving with familiar faces or spending it alone in her high school bedroom watching reality television?  As much as she loves those Real Housewives, she decides that maybe getting to experience how a real family celebrates a holiday wouldn’t be so bad.  “Are you sure?”  Quinn asks, now realizing Sam could just be asking to be polite.  “I really don’t want to impose.” 

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

yale’s probably so different than lima. in fact, there’s no probably about it. sam knows that quinn’s new world must be nothing like the one she left behind. being part of that wasn’t exactly ideal, wasn’t exactly what he planned when he gave her a promise ring sophomore year, but at least she’s come back. he just can’t help but wonder how long the trips home will last before she gets too wrapped up in all things new haven. after all, jodie foster’s clam bake sounds like a lot more fun than anything lima has to offer and he doesn’t even know what a clam bake is. it sounds fishy and probably smells that way too, so he can’t imagine it’s too enjoyable. but even after all these new experiences, she’s still quinn. he loves that about her. he always has. the girl beside him is so genuine and real. he thinks the two words mean the same thing, but that doesn’t matter. quinn’s still both. ‘ so gross. but there aren’t many pretty girls going through the soup kitchen line, so can you blame him? ’ he asks through his laughter, laying it on thin enough to pretend he’s joking, but thick enough for quinn to know he’s not. it’s innocent, though. he swears it is. obviously he thinks she’s pretty. that’s the least he could say about her, but he stops there, just to preserve some dignity. with all the yale boys that are inevitably falling at her foot, she doesn’t need any compliments from the lima losers back home. ‘ ah, good old judy, ’ he smiles, leaning against her car right beside her, careful not to scratch the red paint as he laughs again, offering a shrug when she turns the question on him. truthfully, he was hoping judy had plans with some of their other church friends, but he supposes it’s good for quinn to be able to spend this time with her mother. ‘ probably nothing too exciting. gonna eat, watch football. maybe play some with stevie if he wants. really boring stuff, ’ sam insists, though he’s actually excited about being able to spend the holiday with his family in their home. it’s the little things, really. the little things like the way quinn helped him babysit his siblings, like the way she brushed slushie from his hair when they first met, and even the way she broke into his locker for a piece of jewelry she now knows he could barely afford.

She didn’t think it was possible for her to miss Lima.  But being back home had made her incredibly nostalgic.  And that feeling started when she received Sam’s text a few days ago.  Maybe it was because not very many people from McKinley High were blowing up her phone these days.  Sure, Rachel sent the occasion email bragging about New York.  The blonde exchanged a few words with Puck and Finn here and there.  Santana, Mercedes, and Brittany called a handful of times to check in.  But, hearing from Sam was refreshing.  It was like a nice cold glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day.  “I see you haven’t lost your charm,” she says through a smile almost identical to the one when he told her she had pretty eyes in Navi.  She still can’t believe she dated a guy who spoke Navi, by the way.  “That sounds nice,” and she means it.  Ever since her dad kicked her out way back when, she’d been craving normal family experiences.  In fact, the last time she felt like she had any semblance of a family was the night her daughter was born, and that was short lived.  Frankly, Quinn was always jealous of the Evans clan.  From the minute she saw them all together in church junior year, she knew they were tight-knit.  She thinks that’s part of the reason she was so drawn to Sam way back when.  Before she can say anymore, her phone buzzes in the palm of her hand.  She immediately opens the text, hoping her professor friend is letting her know he finally served his wife with divorce papers.  She sighs, defeated, when she realizes it’s not and then again after she reads the entire text.  “Well, apparently good old Judy burned the turkey and doesn’t feel like getting another one.  So, it looks like my plans just fell through.”  She’s not surprised, but she can’t say she’s not hurt.  

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

every moment without a pencil is one finn spends thinking about what he’ll write. something about this method of confession seems more permanent than a spoken conversation. if she had just waited until after class, the two of them could say whatever and have it be over with before they even parted ways. now, somebody’s going to have this slip of paper forever. if finn keeps it, he’ll be able to reread quinn professing her love over and over again. it sounds pathetic, and he thinks for a second it is pathetic, so maybe he’ll make sure she gets the piece of paper last. maybe then she’ll be the one saddled with technically unspoken words, forced to relive this moment every time she’s reaching in her bag for lip gloss and grabs the note instead. even if she decides to throw it out, finn knows it’ll catch her eye when she passes by the wastebasket. there’s no escaping this no matter how hard either of them try. and to think this isn’t even the worst of it. once the baby’s born, there’ll be a physical manifestation of quinn’s betrayal sharing this earthly plane with him. he can’t imagine how much that’ll hurt, especially since that little reminder is supposed to be his. obviously he’s nowhere near ready to be a father. he couldn’t even remember to bring a pen to class. he can’t be responsible for another life. but finn had enough time to convince himself that this was all going to be okay. little did he know the surprise he was in for after weeks of getting used to imagining a whole new life for himself. now it’s hard to go back to what he had pictured before. once again, it’s funny in the cruel sense of the word. ironic, too. at least, he thinks it’s ironic. maybe if he were paying more attention, he’d know if that was accurate. then again, it’s math class. he’s not sure how much this stuff has to do with iron. finn can’t think about all that for much longer considering quinn’s passing him a pen and he has to focus his thoughts elsewhere, namely on what he’s going to say to her. it’s going to last forever, so it has to be good. but then the moment comes to put ink on the paper and he’s drawing a blank. what do you say to that? how do you reply to a girl who swears she loves you while her actions say the opposite? he’s writing and crossing things out at a rapid pace, smudging the words with his hand as he tries hard to get this right. for now, he’s settling on a brief message: ‘ i don’t hate you. ’ there’s more he wants to say, but he’s pausing to pretend he’s paying attention to the lesson, instead just wracking his brain for a clue as to how he’s really feeling. other than a little numb, there’s not much there in the moment. ‘ why did you do it? ’ he scribbles next,  wondering if he even wants to know the answer to that question. in all actuality, he probably doesn’t. she probably doesn’t even have an answer. regardless, he’d kick himself if he didn’t ask wen he had the chance, so with that, he’s handing the piece of paper back to her, folded up and paired with her pen.

The last thing she expected to read were those four words. She knew Finn had a good heart, but she didn’t think anyone was capable of having one that good.  Speaking of hearts, hers is practically beating out of her chest.  She knows there’s no chance of them going back to the way they were.  She’s certainly not going to fit into her Cheerios uniform again anytime soon.  Despite what Finn just wrote, she knows he won’t walk down the halls holding her hand after this.  But, when she reads those words, she’s overcome with emotion.  It could be the baby hormones, she did cry over a commercial yesterday, but she thinks it’s because she knows he still loves her, too.  In that moment, she wants to take it all back.  She wants to go back to the day by the lake when Finn put his arm around her for the first time and stay there for a while.  But she knows she can’t.  She can’t go backwards.  Quinn reads the rest of his response and sighs.  She wishes she knew why she did it.  Well, she does know.  She just wishes she had a better answer.  She couldn’t exactly tell Finn the truth.  Somehow explaining that she felt fat that day and Puck just so happened to be there plying her with compliments and wine coolers didn’t seem like a good enough reason to cheat on her nice, stable, loving boyfriend.  So instead, she settles for a simple “I shouldn’t have.” Quinn knows that’s probably not what Finn’s looking for, but she hopes he understand how much she means it.  She glances at the clock again.  Six minutes left.  She folds the note along the crease and waits until the teacher’s back is to her before she passes it to him.  She lets her hand fall to her growing stomach and bites down on her lower lip.  This time, she’s not expecting much of a response at all.    

[astrnts]

there’s truly nothing like patting yourself on the back after a long day of volunteering. of course, that’s not why sam does it. it’s just a nice thing to look forward to after sweating over other people’s food for seven hours, stomach grumbling all the while. all he could remember was how good those mashed potatoes tasted. maybe there was something special in the recipe or maybe he was just hungry last time he found himself on the other side of the soup kitchen’s serving line. regardless, it felt nice being able to give back today. it felt even better doing it alongside quinn, someone who gave him so much when he needed it. ‘ i think that old guy was flirting with you, ’ he teases as the two of them walk out of the building, a smile pulling at his lips as he glances over towards her. after months of not seeing her, sam’s found it’s pretty difficult not to smile when he looks in quinn’s direction. he’s just missed her, that’s all. ‘ what are your dinner plans? ’ he asks, hands in his pockets when he pushes his luck. obviously quinn probably has plans with her family, but part of him wants to spend a little more time with her; at least a few minutes for them to just be them and not be volunteers waiting on everyone else.

[queenofangls-blog]

Ever since she started at Yale, Quinn’s made it a point to help those who were less fortunate than her.  She knows most people don’t get opportunities like she was given, so when Sam suggests they volunteer at the soup kitchen, she jumps at the chance.  Plus, she was happy to be spending some quality time with him again.  Their breakup her junior year wasn’t ideal, but they had really grown closer after it.  Being back at Lima and seeing him after a few months away at college was just what the doctor ordered.  “Gross, right?” She matches his teasing tone, deciding then and there not to let Sam know about her new relationship.   She also makes a mental note to text her ‘professor’ later to let him know she made it to Lima safely.  They reach her car and she shrugs her shoulders, “My sister cancelled last minute, so it’s just me and Judy -- who’s probably going to have downed an entire bottle of red wine before the turkey is even out of the oven,”  she says with an eye roll.   There was always something about Sam that made her feel comfortable around him.  Normally, she wouldn’t reveal personal details about her family.  She learned to keep things private after she had Beth.  Sam was different, though.  She felt safe when she was with him.   Leaning against her red Volkswagen Beetle, she arched an eyebrow, “How about you?  I mean, I’m sure the Evans family have very exciting plans.” 

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

for whatever reason, she’s still there, lingering just like all his memories of them together have up until this point. it’s not necessarily unwelcome. just distracting. then again, finn’s not known for the way he pays attention in class. quinn’s just a convenient excuse to explain his blank stare and the radio silence in his head. hopefully no one notices how out of it he is, but the fact that he’s in a classroom that isn’t his is already drawing unwanted attention in his direction. as if that’s not enough, there’s no doubt in his otherwise momentarily empty mind that everyone’s passing notes and texting about mckinley’s hottest new scandal involving him, the girl to his right, and his best friend. it feels like too much for one person to bear, but he does have unusually broad shoulders. maybe this is a normal burden for someone his size. it certainly doesn’t feel that way, but life is weird. it’s crazy and it doesn’t make any sense, hence their current situation. finn doesn’t think even tina could figure this one out and she’s the closest thing to a genius the glee club has. barring this incident, even quinn’s pretty smart, and this seems lost on her as well. the thought softens him the slightest bit. after all, how can he be mad at her when she’s just as confused as he is? sure, maybe it’s partially her fault, but he’s got a feeling that if she knew the outcome before making the choice to sleep with puck, she wouldn’t have done it. or, she would’ve been more careful about it. everything’s making his head hurt so much and all he wants is to go to the nurse’s office and lay down for a little while, but finn’s already caused enough interruptions for the class. besides, quinn’s grabbing his attention once more as she passes a note between the space in between them. he can’t leave now, not if she’s going to try and explain herself via pen and paper. is this the start of her five minutes? does this mean he gets to escape the verbal sparring quinn’s known for? if it does, he’s all for it. that’s the thought process finn’s going with as he unfolds the piece of paper, trying to be discreet about it so the teacher doesn’t insist he read it to the class. the way his eyes roll comes naturally, as does the way he’s biting at the inside of his cheek. she can’t just use a word like love so freely. it’s not fair to people like him who mean it when they say it. he’s about to tell her that too, searching his desk for a pen or a pencil, but to no avail. he doesn’t want to, but finn feels like it’s practically a necessity for him to lean over towards quinn, whispering to her in hopes of avoiding a confrontation with the teacher about his countless disruptions: ‘ can i borrow a pencil? ’

She realizes how ridiculous she must sound dropping the l word after the mess she’s created.  She’s given Finn no reason to believe her.  In fact, if anything, she’s given him multiple reasons to never trust her again.  However, Quinn takes the fact that he hasn’t stormed out yet as a tiny victory.  She studies him as he reads the note, searching for any kind of reaction.  Granted, it takes him a while to get through the few, short sentences she wrote, but her eyes never leave his face.  As she’s looking at him, she’s flashing back to the first time she ever saw him.  It was the beginning of freshmen year.  He was trying out for the football team and she was auditioning for the Cheerios.  It was a hot, early August day and she remembers it took Finn forever to get up the nerve to talk to her.  She smiles thinking about their first kiss.  She can’t forget the moment he asked her to be his girlfriend the last day of ninth grade.  She even thinks about her ultrasound and how excited he was to find out the baby was a girl.  Her mind is running rampant and it’s not until he leans in and whispers that she wakes from her trip down memory lane.  She should have been annoyed at his question.  Only Finn would forget to bring a pencil to class.  But, for some weird reason, she finds it endearing.  Quinn takes the cap off her pen and hands it to him.  The anticipation of his response is eating her up.  Frankly, she’s on the edge of her seat and it’s not just because this baby is pressing on her bladder.  She genuinely has no idea what to expect from him, but she knows their relationship will never be the same after this exchange.  

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

this is something that’s already gotten the lot of them in trouble and at the moment, it shows no signs of slowing down. funny how two people can make a decision that comes crashing down on an outside party who had no say in anything to begin with. obviously not haha funny, but more like the universe is playing a cruel joke on him funny. and of course he’s the butt of the joke. he always has been. whether finn’s too tall or too dumb, people find a way to laugh at him rather than with him. worst of all, he doesn’t even realize it half the time. maybe the dumb jokes hold a little truth to them. obviously they must if he really believed quinn ever cared about him at all. he feels especially stupid now that he knows the whole school’s known the truth about this baby before he did. him, one of the two men involved. he should’ve heard the truth from quinn without the whole glee club surrounding them. but the past is the past and he can’t do anything to change it now, as much as he wishes he could go back and make different bad decisions this time around. but would he if he got the chance? finn can’t say for certain. as much as this hurts, everything that happened before this was so good. the cheap picnics, the endless breadsticks, the time his mom drove them to the mall to see the hangover. everything. it almost feels entirely worth it to be sitting in a classroom that’s not definitely not his, hurting over a kid that’s also not his, and missing a girl who’s not his anymore. it’s a hard pill to swallow, but all of this is. quinn’s only making it harder for him when she walks into the room and as mad as he is, he’s looking down at his desk, biting down on his lip to keep from smirking at how determined she is, how determined she’s always been. that’s quinn. but he has to be strong. he can’t let her do this and then concede the minute she does something cute. maybe if they were boyfriend and girlfriend that would work, but they’re a far ways from that. ‘ can you just stop, quinn? seriously, it’s embarrassing, ’ he shakes his head, trying to keep quiet and play along with the teacher’s lesson, acting as if he’s in the right classroom and not infringing on someone else’s education with his and quinn’s dramatics. ‘ i’m in class right now. maybe you should be too, ’ he suggests, figuring she may as well take advantage of her education considering it’s what she has left. but her pleading is wearing him down, leading him to slam his book shut and look towards her, still able to feel the class’ eyes on the scene they’ve created. ‘ after, okay? five minutes after class. you should probably go to yours, ’ he insists, aware of how hypocritical his statement is, but maybe quinn hasn’t yet picked up on the fact  that neither of them of them belong here. 

"Thank you,” she replies in a breathy voice, feeling triumphant for the first time in a long time.  It’s then that it dawns on her that she still doesn’t know how to explain what she did.  How she could have so carelessly cheated on him with his best friend.  How she could have made him believe he was her baby’s father.  And, truthfully, she wasn’t sure which of those deceptions hurt him more.  That thought lingers in the forefront of her mind, as her eyes drift to the teacher in the room still giving Quinn and Finn looks of discontentment. The blonde realizes it would be in bad taste to just walk out of the classroom now, seeing as how she and the boy next to her had already interrupted and caused such a scene.  Plus, she’s pretty sure Finn would try and ditch her afterwards if she left him alone and she definitely didn’t want to miss her shot with him.  That being said, Quinn sinks down in her seat and acts like she belongs.  It’s then that she remembers Finn’s supposed to be in Spanish class right now.  Judging by the math equations on the board, this certainly isn’t where he’s meant to be either.  She can’t fight the tiny smile that forms at that thought of him wandering into, literally, any class; she thinks this is such a Finn thing to do and that makes her miss him each more.  She steals a quick peek at him before glancing up at the clock hanging above the dusty chalkboard.  Quinn sighs because there’s still fifteen minutes left.  She doesn’t need to be left alone with her roaming thoughts for fifteen minutes.  She opens her notebook and tears out a page, she wasn’t going to wait until after class to talk to him.  She grabs her pen and begins scribbling words and once she starts she can’t stop: “I know you hate me.  You have every right to.  It was a mistake.  I never meant to hurt you, Finn.  I love you.  What can I do to make this right?”  She knows it’s repetitive.  She knows it’s probably useless.  But she folds the paper in half, then again, and one more time for safe measure before sliding it onto Finn’s desk.  “Read it,” she encourages him in a hushed whisper before innocently turning her attention back on the teacher. 

[queenofangls-blog]

*    𝒕𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒐    ╱    QUINN    .

SAM: aren't i always lol

SAM: nice wink ;) thought we weren't doing those?

SAM: as in a little ego and not a big ego? for sure

SAM: then the secret's safe with me 🙊

QUINN: i hope so 🤞🏼

QUINN: we agreed you wouldn't wink. never said anything about me.

QUINN: anyway, mr. evans, it's getting pretty late.

QUINN: and if i want to pass my midterms and make it back to lima in time for thanksgiving, i better finish studying.

QUINN: i'll see you soon, yeah?

[queenofangls-blog]

*    𝒕𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒐    ╱    QUINN    .

SAM: doing what?!?! im so confused lol

SAM: ah dont worry about it, i am happy :)

SAM: you!! i know i dont have a big ego soooooooo

SAM: see, i knew you missed it

SAM: 👾👾👾

QUINN: ...nevermind

QUINN: are you sure? are you really sure?

QUINN: if you say so 😉

QUINN: maybe just a little.

QUINN: but i'll definitely deny that if you ever tell anyone

[queenofangls-blog]

*    𝒕𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒐    ╱    QUINN    .

SAM: no this is sam

SAM: yeah imagine my face on a billboard! it'd be soooo cool

SAM: i definitely don't have a big ego >:(

SAM: and listen to my world on the way there

SAM: what things?! you're not telling me about the things!

SAM: just a joke! calm down fabray ;)

QUINN: nope. we're not doing this again.

QUINN: it would be cool. i just want you to be happy, sam.

QUINN: are you trying to convince me or yourself?

QUINN: oh, of course. it wouldn't be the same with justin.

QUINN: 😞😞😞

[queenofangls-blog]

*    𝒕𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒐    ╱    QUINN    .

SAM: :)

SAM: what if i look into modeling

SAM: and i understand that doesn't make my "big ego" seem any smaller but also i dont have a big ego thank you vvery much

SAM: this is about bieber

SAM: and color me mine

SAM: that also sounds like an innuendo

SAM: what have you been up to...

SAM: lol typically but not always ;)

QUINN: okay, kendall jenner.

QUINN: is modeling going to make you happy?

QUINN: i mean, it's not the biggest, but it's big

QUINN: maybe we can visit color me mine while i'm in town.

QUINN: for nostalgia's sake

QUINN: see? these are the things you'd be missing if you don't go to college!

QUINN: again with the winky face?! sam!!

[queenofangls-blog]

*    𝒕𝒙𝒕 𝒕𝒐    ╱    QUINN    .

SAM: i thought i had to get out of lima and see what else there was in the world

SAM: nostalgic for the justin bieber experience 😎

SAM: more fun than you let on i think

SAM: idk, college is all about weird innuendo experiences apparently.....

SAM: inspird by you ofc lol

QUINN: okay, yessss!

QUINN: BUT i still think you should look into colleges

QUINN: i can tell you i'm definitely NOT nostalgic for your big ego.

QUINN: i mean, it's also about broadening your horizons and learning new things, but sure.

QUINN: well, i do typically have great ideas.

[queenofangls-blog]

astrnts‌:

a good boyfriend would make sure quinn’s okay following the slam of his locker and the way he’s storming off towards anything else, but then finn remembers he’s not her boyfriend anymore, so he doesn’t have to worry about what a good one would do. evidently, he doesn’t even know what a good one would do. if he had, maybe quinn wouldn’t have had to go out and sleep with his best friend. again, he’s chuckling to himself, bitter as ever as he makes his way through the crowded hallways. it’s not hard for someone of his size, someone of his status to do, yet all the while, he feels so small and powerless amongst a sea of students who could very well know what she did to him. what must they think? probably that he’s a loser. and finn would give them that. he is a loser. but at least he’s not trying to pretend he isn’t the way she is. regardless, the fact that he’s walking beside her, still worried about how she’s feeling when it’s obvious she couldn’t care less about him is the final kick to the gut he needs. with that, he’s stopping dead in his tracks, aided by the way she’s reaching out to grab his arm at the exact same moment. even after all this, they’re still so in sync. forget this, he thinks. this can’t be the way he’s going to live his life, mind still stuck on the past, on what was rather than focusing on what’s going to be. fact of the matter is, finn just doesn’t know what’s going to be just yet. he’d built so much of his life around the idea of being a father, quinn’s baby’s father. and now, all of a sudden, that’s gone. what’s he supposed to do with himself? allowing himself a little while to wallow in his pity is the least anyone could do for him. ‘ i think you’ve said enough, quinn, ’ he replies, voice hushed so they can keep their business between the two of them. it’s probably in vain given how fast word spreads around mckinley, but he’s not above giving it a shot. the fact that she’s offering him an explanation makes finn rethink his decision, though. an explanation? really?  words don’t mean anything to him anymore. actions do. and all of a sudden, he’s standing face to face with proof that she never really cared about him and she expects him to listen. ‘ how could you possibly explain what you did? and then you lied to me about it? both of you? ’ he laughs again, eyes rolling as his voice grows louder, seemingly forgetting they’re standing in the doorway of a high school classroom. it’s not the time or place for this, but these walls have seen their lives happen up until this point. evidently, nothing is off limits, including soul-crushing betrayal. ‘ save it, ’ he shakes his head, pulling away from her grasp as an insincere apology passes her lips. maybe one day he’ll give her the chance to explain herself, but right now, finn just can’t bring himself to listen to this anymore.

He hates her.  She can’t blame him.  She hates herself most days.  Her hand falls to her baby bump, wishing she could take this lie back.  Wishing she could take her betrayal back.  She knows he’s not innocent in all this.  He kissed Rachel when he was still dating Quinn.  Sure, what she did definitely trumps any indiscretion of his, but he suddenly seems to have selective memory.  She’s not trying to diminish his anger.  He has every right to be pissed.  She was a horrible girlfriend and it took losing him for her to finally realize that.  His first comment rips through her.  His second and third sting.  His last one hits her like a ton of bricks.   “Finn--” she whispers, but it comes out much louder and much weaker than she anticipated. She pauses for a moment and lets him enter a classroom.  She thinks maybe she should just let him go.  Maybe this isn’t worth all the trouble.  He has to come around eventually, right?  He can’t stay mad at her for too long, right?  But even pregnant and sad Quinn Fabray was determined.  She turns on her heel and follows Finn into the room.  She stands by the door for a second, hesitant, before eyeing where he took a seat.  He’s hard to miss considering how massive he looks in the small high school desks.  “I know I hurt you.  I know we hurt you,” she begins as she slides into the seat next to him.  She glances around the room and notices more than a few glaring looks from the teacher and fellow students  Brushing them off, she continues “you can’t avoid this forever.  You can’t avoid me forever.” She’s almost pleading with him now, “I get that you don’t want to talk to me, but will you give me five minutes?  Please.  I want to make this right.”  Quinn Fabray never thought she would be begging a boy for anything.  That wasn’t her style.  But, then again, he was just some boy either.