Small Faberry Drabble
Title: The Long List Of Various Mistakes That Inevitably Bring The Wrath Of One Rachel Berry (Or How I Stopped Worrying And Loved The Ranting)
Author: AwkwardGayGuy
Rating: NC-17 (Mentions of sex)
Length: 797 Words
Spoilers: None whatsoever.
Summary: A small Faberry fluffy drabble that will bore you to tears.
A/N: First story here, you should feel flattered. Or cursed. Either way, I'm a guy. MY GOD! WHAT IS THIS TREACHERY? THIS IS SACRILEGIOUS! WHAT HAS THIS WORLD COME TOO!
Rachel Berry is a creature of habit. Or, as she says "Predisposed to organizing a simple routine which contributes to my well-being, whether it be physical, psychological or my general happiness!" However, she usually then utters in a small voice and a unnerving, overly wide smile:
"And if this routine is mistreated or not followed to the miniscule detail the wrath of Rachel Babra Berry will be cursed upon you. This would include a Diva temper tantrum the likes of which the world has never seen, followed by the silent treatment, lack of physical contact, then sudden teasing that would stop immediately after things got too heated and eventually would end in your absolute and perhaps inevitable annihilation."
I first thought this was a empty and rather humorous threat coming from a petite brunette whom had the height of a infantile gnome at the very best.
This was my first mistake.
My second would have been the fit of rather inappropriate giggles I burst into as the aforementioned singer stormed up to me with her hair in a messy bun, sweatpants, a creased Chicago shirt that was far too big and flip flops flopping boisterously. The diva grabbed my shoulders and attempted to stare at me by standing on her tippie-toes. She pursed her lips and glared at me with a frenetic glint in her eyes.
"You have ruined me."
"And how would I have done this again miss homunculus?"
"You had to do it."
"Rachel, seriously, what did I do?"
"You don't even know don't you?"
"I asked you didn't I?"
"You had to call me didn't you."
That must have been my third.
"How was calling the woman I adore 'ruining her,' may I ask?" Yes, appeal to her lovesick puppy side! You've got this form of crazy under wraps.
"Don't get all lovey-dovey this is dead serious!"
"Okay, so what did I do to offend thee so?"
"You called me."
"I...see.."
"You called me right when I was in the middle of my elliptical workout, which is-"
"Oh, so that's why you were all panting, not because of the soothing sound of my ridiculously husky and breathy voice?" Go for the overtly and overly sexual!
"No."
"Ah." When Rachel began to deadpan, no good would come of it.
"I was panting because my elliptical workout is planned to make me lose enough energy to require breakfast while not gaining or losing weight! I measure these things. This resulted in me having to go to breakfast early which resulted in me gaining 2/7ths of a kilogram to my overall body weight! This resulted in me feeling self conscious, which made me forget my lunch, forced me to do terribly on my maths test and made my performance at Glee below my standards!"
Oh no.
She's begun the rant! Quick! Quick! Interrupt before it's too late!
"I thought it was fine-"
"I was half a beat off on my final long note! I missed my usual outburst of lyrical prowess and vocal dexterity! You didn't notice? You weren't paying attention to my singing!" And there it is, the inevitable lapse into rant territory, where conversation goes to wither and die.
She does look adorable though. With her lips in a pout and curled fists threatening to rip me limb from limb. And that shirt is baggy enough maybe I can just have a peek at her-
"Quinn Fabray! Are you daring to stare at my chest at a time like this?"
Oh god, here comes the passionate berating. I'm exhausted already. I swear she has superhuman lung capacity. All her words just fall into an endless pit of preposterous pondering and aloof accusations. She continues her seemingly endless rant on my bad behavior until eventually she gathers a wicked grin upon her face that sends chills down my spine.
"Now, for your punishment."
Thank god in heaven, my girlfriend has a domination fetish! Score!
"I can tell by the absent minded sleazy look you have on that you think this punishment will involve a pair of latex bodysuits, a large amount of phallus shaped items and that I am harboring a secret Russian accent that sounds hideously fake?"
Dammit!
"No this punishment is going to be fair worse. Anyway, I wouldn't use my beloved hairbrush for such demeaning purposes! I'm appalled!"
"Okay, what is this punishment?"
Rachel's smile grew to almost a comical size and she immediately began to tickle me to the ground while exclaiming in a battle cry, 'Tickle monster attack!' This left me with no choice but to tickle back, leading to an all out tickle war.
My greatest, and perhaps inevitable, mistake was falling for someone so delightfully mad as Rachel.
Luckily, I never bothered to correct my mistakes.