Senior ditch day for Faberry
Rachel does love Finn for what she wants him to be and not for who he is.
Rachel should love Quinn, because she’s already everything she wants her to be.
A person with dreams. Someone strong enough to not let something difficult stop her from moving forward. Someone who forgives Rachel, instead of blames her for all of her shortcomings. Everything Finn isn’t. Quinn is the person she wants, but she’s just too busy hoping that Finn becomes everything Quinn is. And I don’t even think that’s my headcanon.
Because Quinn had every right to blame Rachel for rushing her, begging her, and making her feel guilty about not coming to the wedding. But instead she took her hand and told her that she blamed her for nothing. And Finn is still accusing Rachel of not loving him enough to pursue his dreams instead of hers.
Come on. Let love in.
drawn by anon - inspired by this
I would kiss your hand as it melds with mine, my lips ghosting over your skin. Can you feel me, love?
Quinn propped their arms up by their elbows, bringing their linked hands to her face. Rachel looked up from her homework as she felt the tug on her arm. A sincere, warm smile on her face formed as the blonde gently placed her lips over Rachel’s fingers. How she could ever come up with a name such as “Manhands” to describe Rachel, she’ll never know. These hands were perfect, tiny, delicate, and not at all manly. The gesture sent enormous tingles down Rachel’s entire arm. Quinn continued to skim her perfect, pink lips over the cold, tan skin, as if she was trying to warm them. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips more firmly over Rachel’s knuckles and kept them there for awhile. The brunette’s gaze focused on quinn’s serene expression, her eyes opening slowly to meet Rachel’s.
Rachel unlinked their hands only to bring hers to Quinn’s face, connecting her palm to the blonde’s jawline. She stroked the skin that breathed beneath her thumb with a lover’s touch, not quite as light as a featherlight touch, but not firm. It was a touch mixed with strong desire and intense love, as if the smallest touch could mean everything. Quinn’s eyelids drooped sightly, soothed by the simple touch. She turned her face to press her lips into rachel’s palm.
“Why do you always kiss my hands, Quinn?” Rachel asked quietly, scared to break the tender mood.
“Because I’m sorry.” she said as she brought their hands together again. “I was wrong.”
“These aren’t manhands. They never were. They’re beautiful, even more so when I feel them in mine.” Quinn gently squeezed the smaller hand that lay in hers. “You never deserved any of those names,” She continued, her voice getting softer, “And I don’t deserve you.” The blonde kissed Rachel’s hand again as her brows slightly knit together in frustration.
“Quinn…You deserve everything.” And with that, Rachel leaned over the table, finally bringing her lips to Quinn’s.