New Fanfiction: Snippet
Blame it on the Pregnancy Hormones
Warnings: Faberry Kink fill Pregnant Quinn G!P Rachel. Set directly after Funk. Season 1.
She blames it on the baby hormones. It started with the cravings. Her stomach would growl at the thought of salty, sweet things. Sour, pickled things; bacon. She salivates at the thought of crunchy, deep fried pork. She started wanting things she’d never had before. Things she never tasted, but knew would be delicious. Her mind would let phantom foods melt on her tongue and she’d lick her lips and seek out that one thing that could quell that craving. It was one of the only times in her life she’d be allowed to indulge. It was for the baby, after all.
Her doctor warned her about this. The seesaw of her emotions; her unpredictable estrogen levels. Some cocktail for disaster if you asked her. She was weak when it came to the want; the fulfillment. The instant gratification of being satisfied. She locked herself in the second floor girls’ bathroom. The urge overcame her during math class. She can’t remember what triggered it— but suddenly her body was alert. The heat flushed her skin and she felt the sweat coat her palms before that impossible ache began thumping somewhere deep.
New Fanfiction: Snippet “Blackballed”
Author: J Rease
Disclaimer: These characters are the sole property of glee. I make no monies from this.
Summary: Santana has a secret that Rachel finds out about. Rachel uses it to her advantage. Santana will do her bidding for three months. Not a day more. Prompt fill. Girlpeen.
Prompt: San has a girlpeen. Rachel finds out. This leads to Rachel blackmailing Santana into popularity. At a party, Rachel gets wasted; Santana has to take her home. Rachel, feelin lonely, propositions virgin!Santana for sex. Happy ending? Maybe sweetness/Romance. But definitely one solid smut scene.
Schuester’s voice interrupts her daydreaming (because really, who listens to this man when he’s yapping his piehole? It’s hard to hear him over the screams of his drowning hair follicles— she usually just waits for the hand clap). It takes a minute for Santana to register the shocked sounds of multiple people gasping, and Brittany’s hand is resting on her knee in warning. She’s not really following what’s happened in the last five minutes so she forces herself to look up from her nail filing (she cares about how her hands look, shut up); and she faces the terrified looks people are shooting her way.
"What? Why are you all looking at me like I just used a giant pitch fork to floss the tots out of Aretha’s jowls?”
"Nobody’s afraid of you Satan." Santana can practically hear the flutter of Mercedes’ eye roll.
New Fanfiction: Snippet “It’s Always Hotter in July”
My good friend and faithful reader Aly Berry (pen name on ffnet), has called in a prompt fill. I’ve decided to fill it immediately. Aly’s a great reader and reviewer, and I owed her one. See prompt below:
Hi Jess!! After watching “Oops!… I Did It Again” (damn that woman looked hot!!) this little idea came to my mind, so here it is…
After Rach performs “Oops!” Cassandra wants to ‘talk’ to her. Thing is she’s jealous because Brody was too touchy feely with Rach during the performance and now she wants to fuck her to oblivion. Cassie takes her in front of the wall mirror in the dance room and dirty talks to her.
Let’s hope I do this justice. For Aly
It’s Always Hotter in July (Snippet)
She’s mentored a lot of students. And by mentored — she means fucked. But no one cared about who she’s slept with, thank God, because this is Broadway, and casual sex and sexual ambiguity is expected— even from the teachers. And so she teaches. She’s taught here since her career began and ended, making it through her day on two blenders full of long island iced teas and a few pain killers. Most of these fresh faces piss her off. She’s constantly reminded of her short lived fame; now she has nothing to look forward to other than the sexual favors she manages in between classes and her after class bar crawl. She thinks it’s the only perk from her job besides money to buy more liquor.
Since my new Blackberry doesn’t like tumblr… haven’t been on much. So- I’ll be posting my already listed WIP updates followed by a oneshot prompt fill. So up next is Seeing Stars Chapter 8, then a Brittana prompt. (followed by Stealing Sunshine and a Mrs. Brightside prompt fill). Also, site is down temporarily, it won’t have updates until I fix a few bugs. But will post to another account.
Familiar Strangers Prompt Fill Snippet:
Having a child was the most glorious thing Brittany could have done with her body. No dance would ever compare to it; at least none she had done herself. She experienced the movements of childbirth with appreciative eyes. She found sustenance in pain and beauty in the aftermath. Karinn was born naturally, twisting from Brittany’s womb and dancing into the world without tears. Her daughter had stared directly into her eyes without fear— like she had been here before and knew what to expect. And Brittany stared back, unwavering, lost in her child’s eyes and the loud whimpers of Santana’s happy crying.
Then she felt it happen.
Seeing Stars Chapter 8 Snippet:
When you wake up, the world is a foggy haze of pain and confusion. You’re on your back, sprawled out at the limbs in all directions, and your face hurts from the bottom of your brow to the top of your lip. Opening your eyes is hard, so you keep them closed and listen to the noises around you. There are multiple people inside the room, one you can tell is Santana, another sounds like the nurse. You peek from the eye that doesn’t hurt as much and you see shadows on the other side of the closed curtain. There are two silhouettes moving behind the screen, whispering as hands move frantically between them. Santana is easily recognizable; she crosses her arms over her chest and you can somehow make out the annoyance on her face. You look at the other person standing in front of your friend, and you realize that it’s Quinn only when you hear her sigh loudly before muttering an equally annoyed ‘Whatever ‘to Santana. Before you can register what is going on, Santana pulls back the curtain (at the protests of Nurse Riley) and smirks in your direction before walking over. She sits at the end of your cot and tosses you an ice pack from the tray at the end of your bed. Quinn follows slowly, standing beside your head, trying her best to find something interesting on the posters on the wall above you.
The Two of Us: Snippet
The Two of Us: Snippet
Prompt fill for Abby.
His mother was going to kill him. He had missed curfew by fifteen minutes by the time he climbed out of the tree he’d been perched in. He slung his binoculars over his shoulder and steadied his camera on his other by the thick Kodak band. He could hear his mother scolding him now, “Jacob Ira Ben Israel I don’t care if you don’t have school tomorrow you are to be in this house at eleven…not eleven oh one or eleven thirty one,”—and blah blah blah blah … bleh. He doesn’t really feel like hearing her nagging voice, especially since he hadn’t gotten any good footage from his perch on the tall tree. It was officially the first full day of summer vacation.
Not that he had anything to do. His boredom lead him to the fitness center by the woods, the tree he’d been sitting in gave him a great view of the women’s locker room. It’d been fun until they’d shut off all the lights to close up. He grabbed his bag, and took a moment to stretch before heading home.
The Double Royale: Aftermath: Snippet
The Double Royale: Aftermath: Snippet
There were noises drifting in from the hallway. Quinn’s open door dragged rough whispers into her bedroom and her ears perked at the familiar sounds of Rachel’s chanting voice. She found a large t-shirt in her closet and pulled it over her naked body, forgoing shorts as the hem of the over sized tee tickled the skin above her knees. She curiously tip toed over to the open doorway, trying to decipher the unidentifiable din wafting from down the hall. She heard Santana chime into the fray, muffled grunts knotting the inside of Quinn’s stomach for some reason she didn’t really want to validate. She moved away from the frame of her own door and silently made the voyage down the hall as the noises grew louder. The door was slightly ajar, enough space for her to lean against the frame to see into the bedlam. Quinn listened momentarily, too nervous to look inside and confirm the suspicious noises that her girlfriend was making from inside of Santana’s bedroom— a place Rachel normally avoided. She could hear the noises clearly now— devastation clenching at her chest when she realized what they were. They were grunted moans and unformed words that died in Rachel’s throat. Noises that Rachel never made when she was with her.
Seeing Stars: Snippet
Seeing Stars Chapter 7 Snippet:
You find yourself in this position more often than you’d like to admit, lately. Your face is flushed, your skin is tinged hues of crimson as you grip the edges of your bathroom sink. Your arms flex, and relax when you lift your head up to stare at your own reflection, rubbing the back of your neck to ease the tension coiling at the very top of your spine. You stare downward, acknowledging your erection before turning away—conflicted. You have found yourself in this same position multiple times this month. It seems that every time you and Jessica are alone, it results in physical contact. You aren’t complaining…per se, but being left in constant state of arousal is taking it’s toll on your resolve to remain a virgin.
My writing process…
Fic Snippet (sort of):
The Double Royale: Aftermath
A Continuation of my fic, The Double Royale Legends
This is where I start with a scene. I get it out because it’s been on my mind for a while and I finally force myself into focusing just for a few minutes to write it down:
There were noises drifting in from the hallway. The open door brought rough whispers into her bedroom and her ears perked at the familiar tone in Rachel’s voice. She stood from her bed and tip toed over to the open doorway, trying to decipher words not meant to be heard by other parties. She hears Santana chime into the conversation, muffled answers knotting the inside of her stomach without reason. She moved away from the frame of her own door and silently made the voyage to Santana and Brittany’s room. The door was closed, but their voices were louder now, clear. Quinn leans her head flat against the wooden surface and tries to catch up on such a secretive conversation.
"She doesn’t have to know, Rachel."
She hears movement, before Rachel speaks up.
"What about Brittany?"
And I read it, then reread it, and I realize how boring and lazy this is. And I go back and I start pulling out sentences, rearranging sequences and adding new words to make it read like how I see it in my head…and this happens:
There were noises drifting in from the hallway. Quinn’s open door dragged rough whispers into her bedroom and her ears perked at the familiar sounds of Rachel’s chanting voice. She curiously stood from her bed and tip toed over to the open doorway, trying to decipher unidentifiable noises wafting from down the hall. She heard Santana chime into the fray, muffled grunts knotting the inside of Quinn’s stomach for some reason she didn’t really want to validate. She moved away from her own door and silently made the voyage to Santana and Brittany’s room as the noises grew louder. The door was slightly ajar, enough space for her to lean against the frame to see into the room. Quinn listened momentarily, too nervous to confirm the suspicious noises that her girlfriend was making from inside of Santana’s bedroom— a place Rachel normally avoided. She could hear the noises clearly now— devastation clenching at her chest when she realized that the noises were moans. The noises made unformed words that died in Rachel’s throat; in her Rachel’s throat. Noises that Rachel never made when she was with her.
She stepped away from the door, her heart shattering in her chest as she tried to make sense of the noises. Because she still hadn’t looked. Rachel would never do this to her, not right under her nose and definitely not with Santana. But images of the night before flooded her brain, memories of Rachel unraveling on the very tip of Santana’s tongue; trembling through her climax— Rachel’s speech impaired by pure elation; words catching in her throat in ways Quinn had never made it do before. But last night was one night. Last night was supposed to be a one time thing. Or so she thought.
Writing is my craft; I am forever learning and improving.
As Bryant often tells me:
"How do you get to Carnegie Hall?"
Seeing Stars Chapter Five, Snippet:
You and Santana have been dating for three weeks. Well, dating is a loose term. You’ve been exclusively making out during the three weeks you’ve been together—aside from the occasional conversation over BreadstiX to go boxes, you know almost nothing important about the Cheerio. Often when you bring up conversation, her hands or mouth distract you from your probing, and by the time you walk her to her car, you’ve forgotten all about your foray into getting to know Santana on a personal level. Not that you’re complaining. In the three weeks you’ve been going out, you’ve been close to losing your virginity to her twice. It’s hard saying no to the girl, but you reason each time a hand wrangles down your slacks that until you know her well enough… you won’t go that far (after all, your mothers raised a gentleman).
When you started dating, you expected things to change. You expected Santana to dress you and wear you on her arm like an accessory. An accessory that didn’t get slushied or tossed into dumpsters or flushed down toilets. It seemed like another perk of your public relationship; protection. You didn’t expect too much, but you hoped that being with one of the sexiest girls at school would give you an iota of respect from your fellow classmates. You’ve been dating Santana Lopez for three weeks; and nothing has changed.
After going through your closet, Santana deemed your wardrobe a lost cause, only managing to find something to cover up “all that crazy”. When she found your vegan friendly leather jacket, all she told you to do was skip the sweaters and leave your top buttons unbuttoned on your oxfords. When she picked you up for school the following day, she ruffled your hair and linked arms with you before walking through the parking lot.
The students of McKinely didn’t know how to take what people were calling “Sanrich”. You told Santana before making hallway rounds that you definitely preferred Pezberry, but she shushed you before opening her locker. The crowds parted, as usual, and for a few select moments, you felt invincible. People stared at you for reasons that didn’t involve slushies or bullying or utter humiliation. People whispered about you and sent you dirty looks; because somehow a loser like you snagged a girl like Santana Lopez.
It was a glorious feeling, at first. And you wanted nothing more than to see Quinn. You wanted her to see you with Santana and you wanted her to realize what she missed out on. You needed to see her face. But Quinn was nowhere to be found. You remember kissing Santana goodbye, and you made your way to your locker before being pushed back into reality. The aggressor was Puck, of course, and Matt followed up beside him by throwing a kiwi slushy in your face. You’d had your five minutes of high school fame… maybe you set your sights too high, because nothing changed.
Unless you were on Santana’s arm, you were fair game. The crowds only parted when she had you by the hand. Once she let go, you were on your own. Puck seemed to hate you even more than the week before. On top of everything else, you gained a new enemy. Matt Rutherford, who you always thought was a timid and quiet guy, has been following you constantly with slushies. You vaguely wondered how the jocks could afford so many of them. Finn, under Puck’s orders, took to tripping you when you’re holding things (like your lunch, or your books, or sheet music). The only person you actually wanted to notice your new relationship was Quinn; but the Cheerio had made herself scarce.
You didn’t know why you wanted her to know. Well, you knew why. You wanted to watch her reaction to it. She hasn’t spoken to you since your last assignment, and her collected demeanor annoys you. You wanted a reaction; any reaction. You didn’t need her acceptance, or her jealousy; you just needed to know how seeing you with Santana would make her feel. Because you hated that she brushed off what happened between you. It was petty, really, that you wanted to rub her face in what she was missing… but no matter how heated you and Santana had become, no matter how close you were to going all the way with her, Quinn always crossed your mind in time to stop you.