Glee Round Robin- Worst Superpower Ever, Ch. 8/?
Title: Worst Superpower Ever, Ch. 8/? (Is There Nothing Sacred!)
Author: Queen Green
Category: Glee
Summary: Based on this prompt: Rachel is an accidental pervert - she has the unfortunate ability to catch girls in all states of undress or somehow ends up in compromising positions with them constantly. She's gotten used to it, until it starts happening with an alarming frequency with Quinn. Based on a prompt in the Glee Kink Meme. Part of the gleewriteoff
Pairings: Faberry; Mild Beiste/Rachel (yeah, I went there)
Length: 1300+
Rating: PG-13
A/N: So this is far overdue and way delayed. My apologies completely; real life sort of through me through a loop and I lost track of finishing/posting this. Regardless, I feel like an ass, but hopefully the chapter is worth the wait. If not, I understand if you want to hit me, but please avoid my nose. Also, big thanks to the amazing vsquared_k for playing beta for this chapter; so grateful!
Prologue (written by vsquared_k )
Chapter 1 (written by llaurorall )
Chapter 2 (written by first_love88 )
Chapter 3 (written by rainbowruse )
Chapter 4 (written by shyath )
Chapter 5 (written by vsquared_k )
Chapter 6 (written by kiarcheo )
Chapter 7 (written by bladeddarkness )
“Coach Beiste, I promise you that it wasn’t what it looked like, out there with Kurt,” Rachel blurted out, as they entered the locker room. She had no idea how she was going to explain this away. At this point, she might as well just send out a school wide email advising everyone to steer clear of her. Yeah, that would so help, confirming to everyone how much of a freak she really was.
“Ms. Beiste, if I may be afforded an opportunity to present my perspective on today’s earlier event, I think it may be most beneficial in helping you to understand the struggle I’ve been asked to bear in life,” Rachel spoke more evenly than she expected, still flustered and embarrassed by the hallway’s events.
“It all started when I was 13-years old, just on the cusp of womanhood. It was a warm summer evening, and I had ventured to a friend’s pool party,” the brunette offered whimsically, remembering how close she and Quinn had once been. It was at the blonde’s pool party that she was first deemed a ‘freak,’ a title she would carry for years after that night.
“We had indulged in various pool activities through much of the gathering, before enjoying a delicious meal of hot dogs-- mine were vegan of course-- and potato chips. After waiting the proper amount of time necessary to prevent cramps and subsequent drowning, my friend challenged me to a competition: who could perform the greatest acrobatics underwater. It seems like such a pointless endeavor in retrospect, but alas, when challenged I must always compete,” the diva stated decisively. Shannon wondered how long she should let this story continue before stopping the brunette.
“As we twirled and flipped through the water, we seemed to slip closer together, ignoring the safety risk of attempting such feats in such close proximity. During one particular attempt, I aimed to complete a double flip before finishing into a handstand. I executed the move flawlessly, of course, but somehow missed that my foot had brushed against my friend’s chest at some point, pulling her bikini top off. I don’t remember much after that. Except for a lot of yelling and my daddy rushing to come get me. Qui-the girl told everyone I stared at her bare chest for at least a minute, but even if that was true, it was only out of shock, not some perverted need to see her naked at any given opportunity,” the brunette trailed off.
“Anyway, that small moment set into motion a series of events that continue to baffle me to this day, one of which you were privy to just moment’s ago. As you can clearly see, this is merely the universe’s attempts at-” Rachel continued on before being halted by Shannon.
“Rachel, that is all great, but you can put a beak on a llama; doesn’t mean it’ll fly over Lake Michigan in the fall,” Coach Beiste responded. The brunette looked at the woman quizzically.
“Look, I know you kids have a lot of feelings right now, hormones and all, but you’ve got to know that kind of behavior isn’t acceptable in school, Rachel.” Coach Beiste explained. “I would have never expected something like that from you. And I thought that Kurt kid was gay?”
“I know, Coach Beiste, and yes, he is, though I do not understand why his sexual or affectual orientation is relevant to this conversation,” Rachel answered, before realizing that it wasn’t the time to argue the importance of inclusive and respectful behavior towards students of all orientations. A beat later, she responded, “I’m so sorry. And I swear it’s not my fault. I just have this… thing, and people keep losing their clothes around me. I’ve tried and tried to stop it and it keeps happening and I just want it to go away, but I can’t help it!” Rachel grew more frenetic with each word, breaking down in tears by the end of her speech.
Shannon panicked, not knowing how to calm the now hysterical girl. She moved towards the brunette, settling next to her. A subtle but distinct ripping noise went unnoticed as the older woman sat down on the locker room bench to comfort the now sobbing girl. She wrapped her arms around Rachel, bringing her into an awkward hug, as she quietly soothed that it would all be okay, that they’d figure out some way to fix whatever was causing the girl such distress.
Honestly, after the first few words from the diva, everything else sounded like a blubbering mess to the woman. She caught something about clothes and not being able to stop and…
The coach was brought out of her thoughts as Rachel began screeching out, “Why me?! What did I ever do to deserve this! I thought I was a good person, but now all I feel is dirty. So dirty. No one will ever be able to love a freak like me! WHY, OH GOD WHY?!!!!!”
“That’s not true Rachel. You are a good person. From what I can tell you’re phenomenally talented, smart, driven and for someone so young, very sure of who you want to be in life. You’re special,” the older woman finished softly.
Rachel pulled herself slightly out of Coach Beiste’s embrace, but not fully out of her hold. She looked into the coach’s eyes and was surprised by the gentle, almost reverent look the woman was sending her. She thought for a moment that Coach Beiste’s face was slowly moving closer to her own, but no, that would never happen…
--------------------------
Quinn knew no good could come of Rachel being alone with anyone, even someone as mild-mannered and clear-headed as Coach Beiste. She hurried towards the boy’s locker room, trying to conjure a decent excuse to pull Rachel away. The Cheerio couldn’t figure out why she was so set on rescuing the girl, but reasoned away that she wasn’t doing it for the brunette’s benefit. Someone has to protect the (semi, but not at all)-innocent females of McKinley from the perverse powers of RuPaul, she thought to herself.
The blonde finally rounded the corner towards the locker room and thrusting the door open to see Rachel clutched in the arms of the coach.
“Is there nothing sacred to you Manhands?! Is there no one you’ll leave untouched by your wickedness?!” Quinn shouted indignantly.
“What’s going on Quinn? Did something happen?” Coach Beiste inquired as she released Rachel and moved off the bench towards the blonde. After two steps forward, she stumbled, realizing that her shorts had fallen off of her waist and pooled around her ankles. She froze, gripped in a confused stupor. As she looked up at the cheerleader, then back to the diva, she saw that both girls gaping back at her in a similar state of shock.
Quinn opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, searching for something to say, anything to say, for that matter. Her eyes finally flickered away from the older woman to Rachel, and she remembered why she came into the locker room in the first place.
“Coach Sylvester requested that I retrieve Berry. Something about administering a punishment so severe that it’ll make a visit to Guantanamo seem like a spa day in the Caribbean,” the blonde forced out quickly.
Quinn rushed towards Rachel, pulling her from the bench. She gripped the girl’s hand before Coach Beiste could protest, yanking her out the room, and speeding down the hall. The brunette had no idea where they were headed, but was in too much of a “Quinn”-induced stupor to put up much of a protest.
As they reached the door leading out to the football field, they suddenly halted, realizing that the hands were still together, fingers somehow intertwining during their race to the exit. Both girls slowly let their gaze trail up the other before finally letting their eyes meet. Quinn felt enraptured by the chocolate gaze of the brunette’s eyes, and suddenly, as if grabbing onto a live wire she felt a jolt of electricity surge through, settling below her waist. She knew this feeling. This could not be happening to her, not right now, not with this girl!
As she continued to stare into Rachel’s eyes, she heard herself quietly release two words.
“Oh fuck.”
A/N 2: So what did you think? Should I put on my sneakers and prepare to run from an army of pitchforks and torches? Feel free to comment with such angry passions below. And if you're interested in taking the next chapter, let me know, so I can inform vsquared_k or bladeddarkness . Thanks!
x
Author: Queen Green
Category: Glee
Summary: Based on this prompt: Rachel is an accidental pervert - she has the unfortunate ability to catch girls in all states of undress or somehow ends up in compromising positions with them constantly. She's gotten used to it, until it starts happening with an alarming frequency with Quinn. Based on a prompt in the Glee Kink Meme. Part of the gleewriteoff
Pairings: Faberry; Mild Beiste/Rachel (yeah, I went there)
Length: 1300+
Rating: PG-13
A/N: So this is far overdue and way delayed. My apologies completely; real life sort of through me through a loop and I lost track of finishing/posting this. Regardless, I feel like an ass, but hopefully the chapter is worth the wait. If not, I understand if you want to hit me, but please avoid my nose. Also, big thanks to the amazing vsquared_k for playing beta for this chapter; so grateful!
Prologue (written by vsquared_k )
Chapter 1 (written by llaurorall )
Chapter 2 (written by first_love88 )
Chapter 3 (written by rainbowruse )
Chapter 4 (written by shyath )
Chapter 5 (written by vsquared_k )
Chapter 6 (written by kiarcheo )
Chapter 7 (written by bladeddarkness )
“Coach Beiste, I promise you that it wasn’t what it looked like, out there with Kurt,” Rachel blurted out, as they entered the locker room. She had no idea how she was going to explain this away. At this point, she might as well just send out a school wide email advising everyone to steer clear of her. Yeah, that would so help, confirming to everyone how much of a freak she really was.
“Ms. Beiste, if I may be afforded an opportunity to present my perspective on today’s earlier event, I think it may be most beneficial in helping you to understand the struggle I’ve been asked to bear in life,” Rachel spoke more evenly than she expected, still flustered and embarrassed by the hallway’s events.
“It all started when I was 13-years old, just on the cusp of womanhood. It was a warm summer evening, and I had ventured to a friend’s pool party,” the brunette offered whimsically, remembering how close she and Quinn had once been. It was at the blonde’s pool party that she was first deemed a ‘freak,’ a title she would carry for years after that night.
“We had indulged in various pool activities through much of the gathering, before enjoying a delicious meal of hot dogs-- mine were vegan of course-- and potato chips. After waiting the proper amount of time necessary to prevent cramps and subsequent drowning, my friend challenged me to a competition: who could perform the greatest acrobatics underwater. It seems like such a pointless endeavor in retrospect, but alas, when challenged I must always compete,” the diva stated decisively. Shannon wondered how long she should let this story continue before stopping the brunette.
“As we twirled and flipped through the water, we seemed to slip closer together, ignoring the safety risk of attempting such feats in such close proximity. During one particular attempt, I aimed to complete a double flip before finishing into a handstand. I executed the move flawlessly, of course, but somehow missed that my foot had brushed against my friend’s chest at some point, pulling her bikini top off. I don’t remember much after that. Except for a lot of yelling and my daddy rushing to come get me. Qui-the girl told everyone I stared at her bare chest for at least a minute, but even if that was true, it was only out of shock, not some perverted need to see her naked at any given opportunity,” the brunette trailed off.
“Anyway, that small moment set into motion a series of events that continue to baffle me to this day, one of which you were privy to just moment’s ago. As you can clearly see, this is merely the universe’s attempts at-” Rachel continued on before being halted by Shannon.
“Rachel, that is all great, but you can put a beak on a llama; doesn’t mean it’ll fly over Lake Michigan in the fall,” Coach Beiste responded. The brunette looked at the woman quizzically.
“Look, I know you kids have a lot of feelings right now, hormones and all, but you’ve got to know that kind of behavior isn’t acceptable in school, Rachel.” Coach Beiste explained. “I would have never expected something like that from you. And I thought that Kurt kid was gay?”
“I know, Coach Beiste, and yes, he is, though I do not understand why his sexual or affectual orientation is relevant to this conversation,” Rachel answered, before realizing that it wasn’t the time to argue the importance of inclusive and respectful behavior towards students of all orientations. A beat later, she responded, “I’m so sorry. And I swear it’s not my fault. I just have this… thing, and people keep losing their clothes around me. I’ve tried and tried to stop it and it keeps happening and I just want it to go away, but I can’t help it!” Rachel grew more frenetic with each word, breaking down in tears by the end of her speech.
Shannon panicked, not knowing how to calm the now hysterical girl. She moved towards the brunette, settling next to her. A subtle but distinct ripping noise went unnoticed as the older woman sat down on the locker room bench to comfort the now sobbing girl. She wrapped her arms around Rachel, bringing her into an awkward hug, as she quietly soothed that it would all be okay, that they’d figure out some way to fix whatever was causing the girl such distress.
Honestly, after the first few words from the diva, everything else sounded like a blubbering mess to the woman. She caught something about clothes and not being able to stop and…
The coach was brought out of her thoughts as Rachel began screeching out, “Why me?! What did I ever do to deserve this! I thought I was a good person, but now all I feel is dirty. So dirty. No one will ever be able to love a freak like me! WHY, OH GOD WHY?!!!!!”
“That’s not true Rachel. You are a good person. From what I can tell you’re phenomenally talented, smart, driven and for someone so young, very sure of who you want to be in life. You’re special,” the older woman finished softly.
Rachel pulled herself slightly out of Coach Beiste’s embrace, but not fully out of her hold. She looked into the coach’s eyes and was surprised by the gentle, almost reverent look the woman was sending her. She thought for a moment that Coach Beiste’s face was slowly moving closer to her own, but no, that would never happen…
--------------------------
Quinn knew no good could come of Rachel being alone with anyone, even someone as mild-mannered and clear-headed as Coach Beiste. She hurried towards the boy’s locker room, trying to conjure a decent excuse to pull Rachel away. The Cheerio couldn’t figure out why she was so set on rescuing the girl, but reasoned away that she wasn’t doing it for the brunette’s benefit. Someone has to protect the (semi, but not at all)-innocent females of McKinley from the perverse powers of RuPaul, she thought to herself.
The blonde finally rounded the corner towards the locker room and thrusting the door open to see Rachel clutched in the arms of the coach.
“Is there nothing sacred to you Manhands?! Is there no one you’ll leave untouched by your wickedness?!” Quinn shouted indignantly.
“What’s going on Quinn? Did something happen?” Coach Beiste inquired as she released Rachel and moved off the bench towards the blonde. After two steps forward, she stumbled, realizing that her shorts had fallen off of her waist and pooled around her ankles. She froze, gripped in a confused stupor. As she looked up at the cheerleader, then back to the diva, she saw that both girls gaping back at her in a similar state of shock.
Quinn opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, searching for something to say, anything to say, for that matter. Her eyes finally flickered away from the older woman to Rachel, and she remembered why she came into the locker room in the first place.
“Coach Sylvester requested that I retrieve Berry. Something about administering a punishment so severe that it’ll make a visit to Guantanamo seem like a spa day in the Caribbean,” the blonde forced out quickly.
Quinn rushed towards Rachel, pulling her from the bench. She gripped the girl’s hand before Coach Beiste could protest, yanking her out the room, and speeding down the hall. The brunette had no idea where they were headed, but was in too much of a “Quinn”-induced stupor to put up much of a protest.
As they reached the door leading out to the football field, they suddenly halted, realizing that the hands were still together, fingers somehow intertwining during their race to the exit. Both girls slowly let their gaze trail up the other before finally letting their eyes meet. Quinn felt enraptured by the chocolate gaze of the brunette’s eyes, and suddenly, as if grabbing onto a live wire she felt a jolt of electricity surge through, settling below her waist. She knew this feeling. This could not be happening to her, not right now, not with this girl!
As she continued to stare into Rachel’s eyes, she heard herself quietly release two words.
“Oh fuck.”
A/N 2: So what did you think? Should I put on my sneakers and prepare to run from an army of pitchforks and torches? Feel free to comment with such angry passions below. And if you're interested in taking the next chapter, let me know, so I can inform vsquared_k or bladeddarkness . Thanks!
x