I’m with Rachel now. I mean, she’s a lot shorter than Quinn and she talks a lot, but I’m in love with her.
Me and Emma have a new blog, and our current goal is to make gifs of every Finchel scene, so if you fancy following, it would be appreciated :)
I reblogged a link a couple of weeks back, but here it is again. Me and Emma have started a new Finchel blog together, so it would be super duper if you followed it.
Why, may you ask, do we need another blog when we both ship Finchel anyway? Good question! It’s probably obvious by now that I’m not 100% a Glee blog, and neither is Emma. Therefore, this blog is going to be dedicated entirely to the couple, so yay for that.
Also, on a side note, we’re working together to gif every Finchel scene of Glee. The edits/caps/gifs/whatever will be posted there (and the first one was posted today), so there’s even more incentive to give it a visit.
Thanks in advance if you decide to follow! :)
Was it considered normal to see a fire truck down the street, sending you into a spiral of depression and loneliness while the rest of the world passed you by?
Okay, maybe things weren’t that bad, but she did feel incredibly sad, imagining Finn being so close yet so far. If only she had a talent for penning successful plays!
A beautiful, incredibly talented damsel in distress, waiting to be metaphorically saved by the lone fire fighter, his self confidence just as scarred as the many burn victims he encountered on his treacherous journey.
Except she wasn’t really in distress at all, and the more she thought about it, the more pathetic she felt. It didn’t do to dwell on things, especially boy things, but it wasn’t her fault if it was all new to her.
She considered calling Finn to tell him about the play, but not sure that fit into the cold shoulder category, she instead made herself some soup and tried to forget all of her sorrows as she watched a re-run of Sex and the City.
Tears pool in her eyes and slide down her cheeks as she re-reads the letter and sobs quietly to herself. She’d found it, hidden among some old records, and hadn’t been able to put it down since.
She looks up at the man standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and filled with a mix of worry and love and surprise.
“A boy wrote this for me,” she whispers, and she pats the bed beside her. It dips, like her stomach, and she leans into him, heart heavy. “He was the first boy I ever loved.”
He takes it from her fingers ever so carefully, skimming the letter and its contents before bursting into a deep laugh that she mirrors with a giggle. “Damn, I’ve always been a bit of a goofball, huh?”
Finn kisses her, then, and she sees stars behind her eyelids as he takes her breath away. When they finally break away for air, she sighs and clutches the letter in her hands.
“If this had become reality, I-“
He presses a finger to her swollen lips, that crooked smile on his face, and she can’t help but sigh like she has some kind of high school crush.
“I’ve done my part for the army, I’m never going back, and unless I’m killed in some freak accident, I’m never leaving you either.”
“I don’t know, I might give Puck a call and see if he’s interested in-“
The letter soon remains forgotten on the floor as Finn reminds her that he’s the only guy for her.
A/U: In which Finn is a troubled soul and Rachel doesn’t know when to quit
While it may not be the most practical of outfits, her wedding dress is her favourite piece of clothing for so many reasons. Most of them are cliched and unsurprising, but that’s what makes it so special; it’s about love and marriage and a happily ever after.
On the night of their wedding, Rachel whispered against Finn’s sweat-covered body, promising she’d wear it every anniversary.
A/U: In which Rachel wants up on the most popular guy in school
I’ll admit it… I acted a little out of control.
Desperate is probably the word.
I wasn’t usually the type of person to strut my stuff (however average my ‘stuff’ may have been), but I was vying for the affections of Finn Hudson, just like every other girl at school. I tried more make up, I tried less clothing, and I even tried the ‘oops, I’ve just dropped my pen in front of you so now I’m going to have to bend over in this ridiculously short skirt.’
I know, not my finest moment.
I gave up the day I contracted an unforgiving cold. I wore pyjamas to school with my hair in messy plaits because I didn’t have the strength to make myself look presentable, and then he saw me. He gave me this intense stare before he strode over, offered me a hug, then promised to help me get better.
(The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, partly due to my high temperature, and partly because Finn held my hand the entire time I spent at the nurse’s office).
I stayed home the next day, and after school had finished, he appeared at my bedroom door with a bunch of flowers and a lopsided grin just for me.
“You’re wearing your animal sweaters again,” he said. “They look really awesome on you.”
The intense make out that followed may not have been the best idea under the circumstances, but when he came down with the cold too, I was more than happy to take care of him in the very same way.
Sore lips aren’t such a bad thing, you know.