Sorry I suck at the Tumblr, work has gotten INSANE. But here’s an update on my life:
1. I met this girl and I might be in love (jk, I barely know her. But I’m totes invested.)
2. This Tumblr update is snazzy, maaaaan.
3. I’m addicted to this YouTube show Carmilla. It’s so campy I CANNOT EVEN. So, I might be spamming all your pages with that.
Um, there’s more but some creep on the train keeps making weird eye contact with me. Toodles!
I Wasn’t Born To Be A Skeleton (1/?)
Summary: ” She doesn’t know if it’s Quinn’s hand leaving her knee, the fact that she’s in a car with a stranger (a stranger who seems to understand her better than the people she’s worked with for a year), or just plain tiredness. All she knows is that she has nothing to say, at least not now, and maybe that’s Santana’s problem. The fact that she’s never quite figured out a way to fill the important moments with anything other than silence. .” AU. Quinn is a Lyft driver that somehow keeps picking up Santana.
You knoooooow. I’m going to try to update before the end of this month. But it honestly depends on where life has taken me. Work is insane right now!!
Thank you for your interest! You are all so lovely!
Pairing: Quinn/Santana, minor Brittany/Santana, hints at some Faberry
Summary: ”Best friends are tricky things b/c Quinn went all in w/the assumption that their friendship would last forever due to loyalty, love, etc. Only for their friendship to be torn apart by something as simple as someone else. Someone who isn’t Quinn. And maybe that’s why it gets to her, maybe that’s why it hurts, maybe that’s why she cares, b/c none of it is Quinn.”
And for those who need to read the previous chapters, it’s here:
Because I’m boring and I suck at the tumblr (which, I’m totally trying, okay???) I figured I could at least post a mini fic preview to let you know that I haven’t forgotten about my fics!
As far as my If We Were Children fic goes, I am currently going through it and editing it b/c I’m unhappy with certain parts. Sorry if you were expecting an update on that one anytime soon!
Anyway, without further ado!!
Quinn’s classes pass by her in a welcome blur of color and nonsense.
Quinn’s focus is gone. Her appetite for knowledge is strained. Her heart is upside down and her stomach is feeling topsy-turvy. She feels lopsided while trudging her way from one class to the next, her right foot dragging lazily on the ground, as if one part of her body just became suddenly heavy.
She tells herself repeatedly throughout the day to just keep it together because nobody deserves to see what she’s keeping in, and time isn’t there to let her dwell. When it’s clear that that particular mantra is starting to wither away due to the onslaught of old memories—sad, forgotten, quiet memories—Quinn quickly changes it to just keep it together while in public.
She doesn’t cry once while on campus.
It’s a victory, however minor, and she’s grateful for it.
She doesn’t get far from the school before the weight of her youth stops feeling like flashes of old memories and starts feeling like heavy burdens. Her mind—her most loyal organ—has finally decided to jump ship with the rest of her body, and decides that now is the perfect time for everything to come tumbling down. The memories weigh her down emotionally, like little drops of rain, until Quinn’s emotions aren’t just sprinkling out anymore. No, instead they’re pouring out of her in tears, clenched fists, and bursts of anger.
It isn’t fair, she thinks as her fist collides painfully with a brick wall, that she can never have her life completely in order.
She can’t handle it, and even though that thought starts to flutter away as quickly as it came, Quinn knows that what she really means is that she can’t handle it again.
It’s the realization that life shouldn’t be about handling anything, that it should be about downright living, that has Quinn wiping the tears away with the tips of her fingers and putting one foot carefully in front of the other.
She’s making her way home, slowly, but at least she’s making her way somewhere.
Her right hand stings when she opens her fist again after a few blocks of steady silence. Drops of blood are pooling curiously at the corner of her palm, bright red against ghost white. It’s a weird sight to see; Quinn Fabray’s pale skin marred by her own rash decisions. It’s not in order, not like how it should be. But It seems that the actions of her life aren’t in any sort of order anymore.
It’s odd, but the pain surrounding it all makes her feel more present. It roots her existence somehow, the tragedies that surround her. It burrows down deep into her bones and makes her ache with pain all over, and a part of her just welcomes it, because she hasn’t felt this present in a quite a while.
let me just say a few things about ‘all about that bass’ real quick
- it’s a song about body positivity and we don’t get many of those so can we just take that into consideration please
- i know people are kicking off about her using the phrase “skinny bitches” but she does follow it up with "no, i’m just playing i know you think you’re fat / but i’m here to tell you that / every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top" she’s taken an insult commonly given to slim women and basically a said so what if you are skinny/skinny but you think you’re fat, YOU’RE STILL PERFECT
- i’ve seen shit loads of people saying it makes them feel more confident, and slim women get a ton of media reinforcing the idea that their body is perfect anyway
- IT’S CATCHY AS FUCK
To be honest, I’m not quite certain where I am on anything 😒.
I am trying to get to everything though. Whether people like the end result…well, I dunno.
Thank you for your message!
I feel like I’m so boring.
Like, I could be interesting…but then there’s Netflix.
People should ask me things so that I can answer them. Cause, like, I can be interesting!(As for the question about Netflix: I just started watching Breaking Bad and I’m a little ashamed it took me this long!!)