Author's Note: Sorry this update is so late! I've been so, so, so busy with college and life, but Thanksgiving break gave me some time to crank this chapter out!
Shout outs to i-am-a-nerd-fighter, wood-u-like-2-no, Melmin, & Tribbith for great reviews! Thank you!
Summary: All Rachel wants to do is survive college and become a star, but now she's living in a messed up fairy tale with seven, socially inept boys, who are proving to be quite the distraction. Finchel, Klaine AU
Warnings: sexual content, language, possible self-harm, abuse, attempted rape
Rating: M (to be safe)
Genre: Romance/Humor/Drama
Pairings: Finn/Rachel (Finchel), Kurt/Blaine (Klaine), Tina/Mike (Tike), Quinn/Puck (Quick), and so on and so forth as my wicked mind plots away
Crackedly Ever After
Chapter Seven
of high-pitched wails and lacrosse sticks
After that unsettling exchange with the giant of a boy Rachel refuses to associate with in the future (unless absolutely necessary), Rachel stalks back to her room and sits down at her desk, opening her laptop. She Googles "Maria The Sound of Music" and spends the next half hour immersing herself in her soon-to-be-obtained role. Maria is a strong-willed, confident woman who is trying to prove herself worthy of joining a convent. Rachel thinks she can identify quite well (well, except for the convent part as her Jewish faith is very important to her after all. She thinks about making plans to ask the director to alter the script a little to make the church a synagogue, which he should be willing to do as she will blow him away with her endless talent).
Eventually her attention wavers and she finds herself checking her email. There's a thread from Kurt to everybody in the house, and she opens it to read:
From TheHummelWearsPrada:
To my fellow housemates,
Tonight's meeting was a dismal failure and at the suggestion of a certain Miss Rachel Barbra Berry, who may I mention is very intelligent in spite of her unending complaints, I decided to compose my ideas through this electronic message instead. It has come to my attention that many of us are much less self-sufficient than we would like to believe as evidenced by the swarm of us who just tackled Rachel for her cookies (by the way, you should really watch out for how many calories and the amount of saturated fat that you just mindlessly consumed because boyfriend—and girlfriend for Rachel, I suppose—the food goes somewhere, you know). It is for this reason that I have drawn up a schedule for this semester: every weekend, a pair of us living in The Estate (yes, from now on, I have decided that our abode will be referred to as The Estate), will be responsible for cooking for the rest of the house. In return, the rest of the house will set the table, do the dishes, and be responsible for other clean up because we cannot live in such unsanitary conditions—yes, we are all boys (well except for Rachel), but why does that mean we can't value hygiene?
Starting with this coming weekend (that advances upon us in less than two days) and continuing onwards:
Finn and Rachel
Noah and Artie
Kurt and Blaine
Mike and Sam
Please try to take into consideration the dietary restrictions we have. Rachel is a vegan, I am allergic to grease and fat, etc. Please email in any of your dietary concerns into this thread.
As before stated, Rachel and Finn, you are responsible for cooking this weekend.
Please let me know if you have any concerns.
Sincerely yours,
Kurt Hummel
Reply from puckasaurus_rex:
dude u sound like a professor or something porcelain and i dont eat pork
Reply from Frankenteen:
puck does that include bacon
Reply from wheelsonfire:
Yes Finn, that does include bacon. Both pork and bacon and ham (just throwing that in for good measure), are all pig products.
Reply from Frankenteen:
o okay thanks artie
Reply from ilovedimsum:
If it's alright with you guys a lot of my culinary skills are limited to Chinese dishes my mom taught me to prepare so when I cook with Sam, you might not see too much variation.
Reply from theboywholived:
I can make a pretty mean batch of lembas bread and chocolate frogs and butterbeer if I have the right ingredients. Get ready guys, it's gonna be totally awesome!
Reply from puckasaurus_rex:
sam what the hell is lembus bread
Reply from theboywholived:
You don't know? It's Elvish food it's so refreshing! Made totally for sustenance dude to get you through those long, late nights cramming for finals and all!
Reply from Frankenteen:
sam cool it on the exclamation points
Reply from stopcallingmeahobbit:
Sam, that sounds delightful. I can't wait to try it.
Kurt, I love you.
Reply from puckasaurus_rex:
u guys r fucking saps
Reply from TheHummelWearsPrada:
Puckerman, don't be jealous of what Blaine and I have just because your love life consists of a string of cheap, brainless floozies and women who are way too old for you.
And Blaine, I told you, you really must change your username.
After reading this last reply, Rachel has had enough. Kurt thinks she's going to cook with Finn? Was he absent for the last twenty-four hours of their interactions? Rachel Barbra Berry will not have this.
Fuming, she slams her laptop down onto her desk (a bit immaturely but the abuse of her school materials seems to make her feel minimally better), and stalks furiously to the area that has been declared "Kurt and Blaine's Sex Zone." Mike seems to have stapled up a haphazard sign that reads, "STAY OUT" in huge, block letters.
Rachel really couldn't give a damn.
"Kurt!" she screeches, nearly kicking the door into Blaine's room. "What is this?"
"What is what?" Kurt glances at her disinterestedly from where he's in a downward dog pose. He's extended over a yoga mat, and his forehead furrows a little bit in distress at having his stress-releasing exercises be interrupted by a stress-inducing person. Blaine is mimicking his boyfriend beside him and offers Rachel a smile which is not returned.
"This cooking list? Why am I paired with Finn?" Rachel spits furiously.
Kurt brings himself up to face Rachel and Blaine mirrors the movements of Kurt's body exactly. "Oh God, Rachel, grow up. Are you really going to get your panties in this much of a twist every time something doesn't go your way? What are you going to do when you're rejected for your first Broadway role? Are you going to handle it in this truly immature fashion or-"
"First of all, I won't be rejected from any Broadway roles," Rachel interjects heatedly. "And second, that has nothing to do with the fact that you paired me up with a boy who you know I cannot stand!"
"Didn't you just make him cookies?" Blaine supplies in a way that Rachel assumes is supposed to be helpful. "What changed? Did something happen? In the last," he checks his watch, "forty-seven minutes?"
"Just because I made him cookies," Rachel spits out, "doesn't mean that we are best friends. This does not change the fact that he saw me naked and proceeded to insult me and it does not change the fact that I am going to fail Calculus due to his miserable, clearly abnormal height!"
"Rachel, have you ever thought that maybe you're just short?" Kurt snips back.
Rachel is so mad she almost sees red, her heart is pounding aggressively in her chest, and she is unclenching and clenching her hands into fists. Blaine seems to see that Kurt has stepped into a dangerous zone and immediately opens his mouth to explain.
"What Kurt's reasoning was," Blaine says, stepping carefully in front of his boyfriend as though he's afraid Rachel will suddenly grow fangs and claws and kill his beloved Kurt Hummel (this is unfortunately not an unfounded fear from the dangerous look Rachel is throwing Kurt), "is this. He thought the pairings through a lot, actually. He figured that if he paired you with Puck, Puck would just hit on you the whole time and make you very uncomfortable. Artie seems to be the only person who seems to be calm enough to handle Puck as Mike seems scared of his own shadow, Sam is asking to be stuffed into a trashcan, and Finn and Puck would just create a mess and none of us would ever get to eat the weeks they cooked. Since Mike has some culinary experience (even though it is limited to Asian cuisine), he'll save us from whatever fantastical food Sam has in mind and obviously, Kurt and I have to work together."
Rachel doesn't miss the suggestive wink Blaine throws Kurt. She can't help but shudder as she imagines what "cooking" means to Kurt and Blaine.
However, she's had much practice at making herself seem composed even when she is completely frazzled.
"Nice save, Blaine," Rachel offers, as she proceeds to open herm mouth for a lengthy discussion on why she and Finn Hudson are not compatible in the slightest and how if Blaine and Kurt wish to save the fate of their living situation one of them needs to switch with Finn immediately, when her thoughts are interrupted by a loud, surprisingly high-pitched screaming and wailing noise.
"What the fuck is that?" Kurt's shocked blue eyes widen to the size of saucers in his pale face.
"I don't know." Blaine's voice trembles slightly as he immediately wraps Kurt in a protective grasp in his arms.
As endearing as Kurt and Blaine are as they shake in fear and hold onto each other for dear life, Rachel has other plans of self-preservation. As good as a friend as at least Blaine is (Kurt's qualities have been questionable as of late), Rachel is not going to stand by and sacrifice herself to whatever cruel, banshee-like creature is out there to allow the boys to save their own skins.
She's about to scream when their door bursts open and a bewildered Mike and frazzled Noah and a scared Finn push their way into Kurt and Blaine's Sex Zone (STAY OUT).
"Did you hear that?" blusters Noah, pushing back his mohawk.
"Noah, I think anyone with functional eardrums within a five mile radius of us heard that," snips back Kurt.
Blaine slaps his hand over Kurt's mouth and eyes Noah warily; Noah doesn't seem to notice. Instead, Noah fails to pay any attention to Blaine's defensive behavior at all, as his deep-set hazel eyes narrow in suspicion. "What was that?"
"I have no idea." Kurt has managed to struggle out of Blaine's grasp and he gives his boyfriend a disapproving look. Blaine widens his eyes and Kurt's gaze softens as he lightly caresses Blaine's chocolate hair. "But let's go find out."
Cautiously they open the door and the wailing has only escalated. Finn and Mike have clumped themselves up behind Noah.
"Where's Artie?" Finn asks a voice barely over a whisper.
"And Sam?" Mike's voice is shaking. "Do you think he's dead?"
"Oh God," wavers Noah, his arrogant swag failing. "Do you think it ate Artie and his wheelchair too?"
With that, Rachel turns around and faces the boys. This is what is making her dad more comfortable about her safety? They are going to protect her? A sassy prima donna and his oversensitive boyfriend, a wannabe badass with a mohawk who lacks balls, a gangly Asian kid who screams when a pin drops, and a overeager pervert with the appetite and the eyes of a Golden Retriever?
"What is wrong with all of you?" Rachel demands, stamping her feet. She feels admittedly like a six-year-old, but honestly, these are supposed to be the strong, masculine men who are here to protect her from being raped and supposed to stand in the way and take the blows to preserve her petite and elegant body and of course her superfluous talent. "Are you guys really afraid of whatever is out there? What is wrong with you? Where is your courage? Your masculinity? Your bravado? You are all cowards!" she howls, crossing her arms and looking indignantly at all of them.
Her rampage is interrupted by another loud, painful wail.
And that's how Rachel finds herself locked outside of Kurt and Blaine's Sex Zone (STAY OUT) while the five boys crowd themselves into the small room and close the door.
Unbelievable.
This whole situation is un-fucking-believable, thinks Rachel, as she holds the flimsy lacrosse stick Mike found in the corner of Blaine's room. (This discovery had led Blaine to confess that he used to play lacrosse which Kurt found incredibly sexy and resulted in a passionate make out session between the two boys much to the discomfort of Mike, Noah, and Finn whose presences were blatantly ignored by Kurt and Blaine. However, the kissing was interrupted by yet another banshee-like cry which pushes Noah to throw the lacrosse stick at Rachel and order her to "Find whatever is out there and kick its ass, Berry!")
So now, here she is, all five feet and two inches of her, wielding a dirt-stained lacrosse stick warily in front of her as she creeps down the staircase toward the source of distressed noises. It sounds like it's coming from the kitchen, and the silence is broken into a series of loud, dissonant cries as she approaches. Rachel's fingers shake nervously around her tightened grip on the stick as she nears the dining area.
That's when she feels the hand on her shoulder.
With a surprised yelp, Rachel instinctively whirls around, squeezes her eyes shut, and clubs the thing behind her straight in the head. She hears the person goes down with a thump and Rachel's mouth flops open with shock when she musters the courage to open her eyes.
There's a huge body lying straight on the floor.
It's Finn.
"Finn?" Rachel asks incredulously in a high-pitched voice. She stands above his prone figure on the kitchen tile. "Finn!" she tries again, when there's no reply to her squeak.
"Ngghhhh," is all Finn can manage from his position on the floor. He sits up and shakes his head slightly. His eyes cross, a bit disoriented, as he brings up his hand to the side of his face where a large lump is already starting to appear.
"What are you doing?" Rachel hisses. When Finn continues to make unintelligible, indiscernible noises, she throws down the lacrosse stick and grudgingly kneels on the floor to sit down next to him.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice more gentle. "Let me see."
"Nggggghhh," is Finn's reply as he pushes his fingers harder onto the lump.
"Finn!" Rachel protests, pulling his hand away from his head. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."
And sorry she is. There is very visible swelling and from the looks of it, the bump is going to be pretty large. It's already almost purple in color and the clear outline of the lacrosse stick is prominent against Finn's light skin.
"What were you doing here?" Rachel asks indignantly, but then is subdued by the recent memory of how the fact that Finn is laying on the floor is all her fault. "I thought you were hiding with the rest of the boys," she coos in a way that she hopes will help Finn forgive her for bludgeoning him in the noggin, as she puts her own small hand over his bump. She puts her other hand on his back in an attempt to support him as she feels his enormous body start to shift back downwards.
"Couldn't..." Finn mutters, his eyes still crossed. His pupils move in and out of focus and his forehead creases in distress as he tries to concentrate on formulating his answer. He places his arms shakily on the ground beside him., "Couldn't let you go... out there by yourself. You're... you're really... l-little, R-R-Rachel. Cute."
Rachel's not incredibly sure how to respond. Yes, it was very nice of Finn to be concerned about her safety unlike the other cowardly boys, but at the same time, she is a strong, independent woman who can concern herself.
As Finn groans aloud in pain though, and a flurry of words escape him ("God, R-R-Rachel, you got me good..."), all resentment disappears and is replaced by an innate desire to right the situation at hand. (Is that guilt pricking at her heart? She shakes it away... no, it can't be).
"I'll get you some ice," she promises, and stands up to enter the kitchen.
It's then that she again hears the cries.
Rachel grabs the lacrosse stick off the floor from where it lays next to Finn, and creeps stealthily into the kitchen. She proceeds to drop the stick in disbelief.
Sitting at the kitchen table is Sam. He glares at his laptop in frustration and throws his head in his hands and utters a truly inhuman, grating noise as he wails in distress. By his side is a bemused (and amused) looking Artie who is rubbing small circles on the blonde boy's back.
"Come on, Sam, it can't be that bad. Cheer up! It's just Pottermore. Getting sorted into Hufflepuff isn't the end of the world."
"I'm a Gryffindor!" protests Sam wildly, throwing up his arms in frustration. He makes another horrific noise as he continues to complain. "Nobody wants to be a Hufflepuff. What the hell is a Hufflepuff?"
Rachel gets a Ziploc bag to fill up with ice.
Her life is a joke.
Author's Note: Sorry it's so short guys! I just wanted to say THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE AMAZING FEEDBACK. I hated the last chapter but after your guys' support, it made me feel a little bit better about it.
I know this chapter was short and not that great, but it will start improving... I promise! I had a few suggestions to get some girls in here, and it'll happen guys :) How do you expect the other pairings to happen without any girls? :)
If you guys have any feedback/anything you'd like to see, PLEASE let me know. Your reviews are so appreciated! Thank you!
Here are some replies to anonymous reviews that I really appreciated :)
Helen: I think this story is going to be predominantly from Rachel's point of view, but I'll definitely consider putting in a few tidbits from what Finn is thinking. I just find it, as a female writer, sometimes easier to write from a girl's side ;) Thanks so much for reading!
Maia: Your review made me so happy! I'm glad you laughed so much! As I mentioned, girls are DEFINITELY going to make an appearance soon. I just have to figure out how to weasel them into this story!
Bueller: More Finn in this chapter... haha sorry I haven't gotten to Jealous!Finn yet, but it will come!
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