#or in the case of quinntana they hooked up even if there were no feelings

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[lightscameraquinn]

I’ll Keep Yours, If You Keep Mine || Quinntana

who: @auntiesnixxtalks & @lightscameraquinn when: November 26 where: Evan’s Home what: Santana comes over, secrets are revealed warnings: cancer mention

Quinn knew Santana was coming over with a bottle of wine, but she didn't entirely enjoy wine and particularly not when she was in pain. Jack Daniels tended to be her drink of choice at home. Her house was warm but she was wrapped in a jacket and a blanket, attempting to fight off the cold that caused the pain in her back to spike. Normally she'd wear a pain patch, but due to the fresh tattoo that adorned her lower back she didn't, not wanting to risk it. 

Her family didn't know about the pain and while her vacation to Florida with Isabel had been enjoyable she now regretted doing so much. The pain had been why she wanted to get away and while she'd managed to keep it at bay, the return to the cold of New York really messed her up.

Upon hearing her front door open and the usual, "Oh Lucy!" of her best friend, Quinn sighed. Standing from her place on the couch, glass of liquor in her hand, she made her way to the doorway that led to the main hall. "You know, calling Lucy in this house is going to result in my daughter answering you, one of these days. Also, most people only use their key to my home in emergencies." She took a sip from the glass in her hand as she leaned against the doorway, doing her best to not look like standing hurt. "How've you been, San?"

Santana had no issue with letting herself in and out of the Evans household, she had a key and like fuck was she going to stand outside in the cold and freeze her potentially deadly tits off for anyone. The whole point of having a key was to open a door so why would she waste her time knocking? Announcing her arrival as she walked through the door, "Oh Lucy!" she placed the bottle of wine she had tucked under one arm on the unit by the door as she shrugged off her coat.

"Nice to see you too," she fired back as she hung up her coat on one of the hooks, "besides, little Lucy knows the difference between me calling you Lucy and me calling for her. You might be too dense to tell the difference but Lucy's not." She picked up the bottle of wine and turned to face her friend, "I come bearing gifts but apparently you decided to start without me which is just fucking rude, Q." She shook her head, "Guess this thing that's not bothering you at all warrants an early whiskey," she jabbed, making her friend aware of the fact that she hadn't forgotten the reason she came over in the first place. "Also, I came here willingly and I brought wine, I think that alone warrants being considered an emergency." 

She had no intention of discussing how she truly was, what she was going through, or more to the point what she was refusing to deal with but that didn't prevent the veiled truth slipping past her lips, "I'm not dead yet so I'd say I'm good but I'm not here for me, I'm here because you decided to be a cryptic bitch and you can either tell me what's going on over a glass of wine or, I can drink the wine and then bludgen it out of you using the bottle," she shrugged, "your choice."

Quinn shook her head, a small laugh falling from her lips. "I am well aware, but who knows, one of these days it just might get you in trouble anyway." She knew her best friend and her daughter well enough to know it wasn't likely to happen, but that still didn't mean it couldn't. "I never said it wasn't bothering me, just said you had no reason to worry about it." She shrugged. "You're the one insisting it's something major, and I can tell you now that its not." Quinn wasn't actually lying. The pain was chronic and while it was flared up, she was to blame for it. She'd been doing too much, running herself thin, just like she had told Santana. Even if her best friend didn't know the full extent of it.

At her best friend's words Quinn raised an eyebrow. The wording was weird and not one Quinn liked the sound of. "Is there not an option where I keep drinking Jack that doesn't result in me getting beat with with bottle?" She asked, even as she made her way towards her kitchen. She was doing her best to not look pained as she walked, though prepared any number of excuses, just in case her friend asked.

Santana shrugged, "Please, I've always been getting into trouble one way or another." The Latina couldn't even begin to think of a situation where her calling Lucy and Quinn's daughter answering would result in any kind of trouble but even if it did, she always found a way out of trouble. "Because when people don't worry about your ass, it ends so well," she drawled with an eye roll. "It doesn't have to be major for me to worry, Q. I've seen you when something's wrong and how fast you can spiral. Not sure about you, but I'd rather you didn't have repetition of that phase." Seeing Quinn lose herself was something that was truly terrifying to Santana, it was an experience that had stayed with her and always would. It didn't matter how many times they ripped each other apart or exchanged slaps, Quinn was her best friend and she truly hated seeing her suffer in anyway. Especially when she alone had the knowledge that her time with her best friend could very well be limited. 

Santana hummed in response, "You get me a glass of Jack, we save the wine, you tell me what's wrong and then I don't have to beat you with anything." She followed after Quinn noticing that the blonde seemed to be walking odd, it reminded her of when her friend first started walking after the car accident in high school, "What the fuck is up with you?" she questioned before grimacing, "Oh God, don't tell me you finally caved into Fish Lips and let him fuck you in the ass?!"

Quinn had rolled her eyes, because honestly, everything her best friend said was true. Not just that the Latina had been getting into trouble since the day they met, and likely before, but also that things tended to go sideways when Quinn didn't have someone looking after her. Not that this was something that could send her off that particular deep end, but it could end in other ways, even if she didn't want them to. 

"Most of that can be arranged, I'm sure." She replied as she continued on her way to the kitchen. However, her best friend's comment had her close to tripping over her own feet, a grimace crossing her face. "I just spent a week trailing after a sixteen year old, all over Florida, is what's up. Any time I might have had for sex with my husband was spent unpacking or simply sleeping," she responded through a clenched jaw. Santana's sense of humor was often something Quinn could handle, even enjoyed, but at the moment it was anything but funny. Entering the kitchen, she grabbed another glass and set it down next to the bottle of Jack. "You can pour your own."

She eyed the glass for the less than half a second before she locked eyes with Quinn, "Bullshit," she spat. She didn't give two shits about having a drink right now or pouring it herself, not when her best friend was blatantly trying to avoid the truth of the matter right now. "I guess while you and Is were in Florida you guys were involved in a pretty serious car crash," she quipped, "cos the last time you walked like that was right after you gotta out that wheelchair and don't you even DARE trying to give me shit about a new tattoo!"

Quinn leaned against the counter, staring at Santana with narrowed eyes. She was in a corner, she honestly was. Santana knew something was up and she couldn't really lie her way out of it, even though she seriously wanted to. "You seriously think the effects of that car accident wore of when I got out of the chair? You think they just faded off with time? They didn't. I've dealt with this shit for years now. It's nothing new. It's my life." Her words were harsh and she pushed off the counter, making her way over to Santana. "Happy now?" She spat, getting almost too close to Santana's face.

Santana was not in the least bit surprised by Quinn's outburst, she knew the blonde well enough to expect it. "I'm not stupid, Quinn, I know you still feel the effects of that accident," she couldn't believe that her friend would think that she would be so oblivious when they had known each other all these years, but what if... "but no one else does, do they?" The realisation felt like a sudden weight had landed in the pit of her stomach, Sam and their children were completely oblivious to the fact that Quinn put on a brave face. "You want me to be happy that you're in pain? Jesus fucking Christ, Q! We're not in high school anymore."

Quinn sighed as the realization hit her best friend, not entirely backing away. She was too tense to. As Santana continued, Quinn shook her head. "No, they don't. They don't and they don't need to. Like I said, I'm used to it. The pain comes and goes. Sometimes it's worse and lately it has been, that's all it is." She closed her eyes, unable to look her best friend in the face, arms wrapping around herself. "Of course I don't, still doesn't mean it's not what I expect."

Santana shook her head, of course Sam was oblivious, he'd never been the sharpest tool in the shed but the dude shared a home with Quinn, slept in the same bed as Quinn, how could he be so blind to not notice that something was even slightly wrong? "So you're just going to suffer in silence and not get anyone to help out or anything?" she knew she was being a hypocrite right now, but Quinn's problem and her problem were very different. "Have you even been to a doctor for pain meds or anything," she glanced over at the bottle of Jack on the side, "or are you self medicating?" It wasn't an accusation, it was a question out of pure concern. "For someone who went to Yale, you can be real stupid sometimes, do you know that?"

Quinn sighed, opening her eyes to look at her best friend. "I've been, but do you know how hard it is to get insurance to cover medication for chronic pain? Almost impossible. I've got pain patches, but given I've got fresh holes in my back, it kind of proves to be a problem." She turned away from Santana, walking back over to her glass on the counter she'd been standing by, downing the rest of it in one go. Bracing herself on the counter, she stretched her back out, grimacing a bit at the way it cracked and popped. "I went to school for acting, are you truly surprised I use it?"

"They don't give you any pain meds other than patches?" Santana asked in disbelief. "That's bullshit, they've got to be able to give you something more than just some patch!" The Latina honestly didn't blame Quinn for drinking something a lot stronger than wine but she also knew that it was now something she would have to keep an eye on because if the blonde ever followed in the footsteps of Russell Fabray she would hate herself in the most extreme way possible. "Not well enough to fool me," she gently pointed out as she reached for the bottle of Jack to pour herself a drink.

She turned back to Santana, once again leaning against the counter. "They did, but they're something I'd rather not rely on. I only have so many and they're expensive. Besides, the patches work, when I can use them. Right now, is just problematic because I've got so long before I can safely use them again. So, I compensate with Jack til I can use the patches again. Safer than the pills, especially with an addictive personality," she explained with a shrug. "Took you this long to say something, though.

Santana nodded as Quinn spoke, she knew all too well about the expense of pain medication, she was just fortunate enough that their insurance covered most of the cost for her wife's medications. She shrugged, Quinn had a point, she had taken a while to speak up about it but she had her own life to live, her own problems to deal with (or not, as the case may be), "Unfortunately for you, I've had things to take care of but you seemed to be managing so I figured you were doing ok. Now you're clearly not so I can't keep quiet anymore."

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, eying Santana. There was still something off, she knew it, she just didn't know what it was. Nothing looked wrong, but the reaction to her smoking was new. Which didn't make sense. "I'm no worse off than I was a month ago. This all started because you got snippy about my smoking. Which you still haven't explained properly, by the way."

Santana busied herself with taking a rather large mouthful of drink in an attempt to just give herself enough time to try and formulate some kind of rational and believable reasoning to why she hadn't said anything until now and why she'd kicked off about the cigarettes. "You clearly don't know how to listen because I've had things to take care of and I'm not talking about this week, life has this habit of giving me shit to do. As for the smoking, you're clearly smoking more if you're announcing to the world that you're having a smoke and ok, I've never liked that you smoked but if you're ok saying that you are then you're going to be ok with smoking more openly and that shit isn't good for you. That shit causes cancer and guess what?" she hadn't meant to get so riled up but talking about why she didn't want Quinn to smoke, even if she was refusing to face up to her own truth, was making just driving home the point that she herself was sick, "Cancer fucking kills!"

Quinn rolled her eyes as Santana spoke. While she knew so much of her best friend's words were true, she still couldn't figure out where exactly this all was coming from. Quinn had been smoking again for years. It wasn't something new she'd picked up and she wasn't exactly shy about it. Most people knew. "I've been open about it. Maybe you were too wrapped up in your own life to see it, but I've never been shy about it. I haven't had an issue with saying I smoked since a few months after I started up again. Sure, it doesn't always come out in conversation, but I don't lie about it." She sighed. "I know it does, but honestly, so does drinking and given my lovely family history, I'll take the thing that will only possibly kill me, over the thing that could turn me into Russell. Drown all my problems like he did, except I've got a taste for a much stronger liquor."

"Wrapped up in my own life?" Santana snorted, "I go to work to fix other people's problems and then I come home and have to make sure Britt and the kids are all ok, oh and bring stuff home to work on because if I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it right but yeah, sure, I'm too wrapped up in my life because I don't keep tabs on what you are and aren't doing." One of the advantages of her friendship with Quinn, was that even after all these years, they were pretty much the only people that could tolerate their level of bitch and not end up with their friendship damaged beyond repair. "Yeah well, I'd rather you were around even as a drunk because despite what you think, you haven't got that level of douchebaggery in you to turn out like jackass. You're the one person on this fucking planet that I trust with my family." She bit the inside of her cheek, that last part she hadn't meant to voice and she knew that no matter how hard she wished or whatever God she prayed to, that if Quinn had noticed her fuck up, the blonde would pursue it relentlessly.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Still doesn't discredit the fact that you're obviously under the impression me talking about it openly is a new thing. Whether it's your work, your family, or your own life, you've obviously been so caught up in it all, you've missed a decent chunk of the last few years." They were always harsh on each other, it was just who they were. As Santana spoke Quinn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it. She uncrossed her arms and made her way over to her best friend. "I don't want me around as a drunk, whether I'm likely to turn into Russell or not." Her eyebrows knitted together as she thought over everything else Santana said. It was out of left field, in a general sense, but seemed to reiterate the reality that something was wrong with her best friend. "Why? Why are you so worried about me staying alive and what does that have to do with me looking after your family? What is wrong? And don't you dare lie to me." The tone of her voice was betrayed by the gentle hand she placed on Santana's arm, concern etching itself onto her face.

"Well excuse me for not acting like your God damn mother and trying to keep up with every fucking cancerous breath you take," Santana spat back. At this point she couldn't avoid her truth, she couldn't ignore the fact that there was alien thing in her body eating away at her and that she was too terrified to do anything about it or that she had no idea how she would be able to fit that particular battle into her life when she couldn't even make the time to write for herself anymore. She had known that Quinn would pick up on her slip up and the truth of the matter was, she was too tired right now to try and keep herself together. Every word she had said to her best friend had been filled with hypocrisy because while she was busy telling Quinn to look after herself, to quit smoking for her health, she was too much of a chicken shit to even turn up at the hospital for the follow up appointment to discuss a treatment plan. She sucked in her lower lip as she tried to keep the bottled up emotions buried but the concerning touch was too much, because the one person that could call her on her bullshit had and it ended with a hand covering her mouth as she clenched her jaw to prevent the escape of tears or possibly vomit from escaping her lips as the full force of her reality settled on her.

Quinn didn't even hesitate when she watched Santana react, immediately pulling her friend into a hug. She didn't know what exactly was wrong, but leaving the Latina speechless was a hard thing to do. Whatever this was, whatever had her best friend so different wasn't good. Quietly, she pulled away, taking Santana by the hand and leading her through the kitchen and to the living room. Sitting down on the couch she pulled Santana down next to her, arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Hey, talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Please, San." Her words were gentle, almost pleading. Quinn needed to know, she needed to know what was wrong.

Santana didn't even fight Quinn on the hug, right now she needed the comfort, she needed someone to take a second to say 'Hey, you're not ok' and for that to be allowed. She was so used to being wife to someone with chronic pain, to being Mami, even to being abuela. She was used to dealing with everybody's problems but her own and sometimes she needed someone to tell her that it was ok that she had problems and that she was actually allowed to talk about them. Sat on the couch, she fought the urge to lean into her best friend, knowing that if she did the floodgates would open and if she started crying, she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to stop. "I've fucked up," she explained solemnly before dropping her head and using her hair to mask her face as she admitted, "I'm sick, Luce."

As Santana spoke, Quinn just held her closer, resting her head on her best friend's shoulder, free hand moving to brush the hair away from Santana's face. Luce was a term used very rarely. It was serious, intimate, used only in moments like this. When truth was shared and no one was around but them to hear it. "Cancer?" The word was soft, cautious, afraid of the reality an answer would reveal. It made sense, just given her best friend's statements about her smoking, but she needed to be sure.

A sad smile briefly touched Santana's lip, her memory recalling the many times the pair had been in this position over the years, though their rolls were usually in reverse. A dry laugh escaped her lips at the question as she tried to joke, "I have a killer rack in more ways than one." It was crass and stupid but she couldn't bring herself to say 'cancer', everything was getting very real and very fast and she was barely holding herself together right now.

Quinn rolled her eyes gently and gave Santana's shoulders a gentle squeeze. The small laugh that escaped her lips had her shaking her head at the pair of them. "Well, what are you going to do about it? Because you have to know I'm not letting you do nothing." She had a feeling that Santana had likely tried to ignore it, they were simply too much alike and she knew Santana had a tendency to put everyone but herself first. "And I'm not losing my best friend without a fight." She added on, knowing she wasn't going to let Santana go through it alone.

Santana gave a barely noticeable shrug in response to the questions, "I don't know." She was clueless right now. She didn't know if she'd left it too long to be able to just reschedule her appointment or if she'd have to go back and get a referral to that particular doctor again. She wasn't entirely sure her insurance covered the treatment and even if it did, it wouldn't cover all of it and she'd have to find a way of covering the expenses in a way that her wife wouldn't notice or have it affect their ability to pay college tuition. "You've got your own shit to be dealing with," Santana replied feebly, there was no way in any universe that Quinn would ever listen or not want to support her through this but that didn't stop the wave of guilt that flooded through her. "B and the kids..." she let out a sigh, "I don't want them to know."

Quinn sighed, but cuffed Santana on the shoulder when she dared to mention Quinn's life. Yes, Quinn had things going on, but if her best friend dared to think that would stop any of this, she was very wrong. "Well, we're gonna figure it out and y'know what, maybe for now it's best just the two of us know. We'll get everything figured out, then we'll deal with letting other people know, yeah?" She hugged Santana gently. "I'll even figure out how to kick this whole smoking thing, but you've got to promise me that no matter what you have to do to treat this, you do it. Deal?" Quinn had just recently bought a new carton of cigarettes, but after that she would be done. One last carton, however many packs she had left, and she'd be done.

Despite the fact that Quinn had basically just scolded her in the nicest way possible, Santana just nodded, if the rolls had been reversed she would've had the same response, maybe even worse. "I don't think my brain can handle them knowing. B would freak, the kids...I don't know. Just, Mia's pregnant, Lex and Cris are in school...they don't need to know about this. I'm not going to do that to them," she shook her head at the mere thought of what something like this would do to her family. She wanted to agree to Quinn's deal, purely just to get the blond to stop smoking but what if she couldn't afford the treatments, what if she was too scared to see them through, what if it took too much out on her, there were so many variables. She finally gave in to the need for comfort and leant against her best friend, burying her face against the blondes shirt as she finally admitted out loud, "I'm scared, Luce."

Quinn simply nodded along to what Santana said. She could understand it. It was why she hadn't told her own family the pain was getting worse. Sure, the scenarios were vastly different, but the sentiment behind their actions were the same. As the Latina turned in her arms, Quinn fully hugged her friend, holding her close. "I know, I know." She soothed. "But you're not going to do this alone. It's you and me, no matter what, okay?" She placed a kiss to the top of Santana's head. They could get through this. They'd gotten through so much, they weren't going to let this be the end. "We can do this, San. I know we can."

Santana chewed on her lower lip, it was one of the few nervous habits she actually had and it only ever surfaced when she was truly worried about something or once in a blue moon on the verge of tears that she refused to shed in front of anyone. "What if we can't?" she voiced quietly. "What if I've truly fucked up this time and left it too long?" She knew that was a very real possibility, instead of facing her problems she had buried her head in the sand and now she was realising the consequences of doing so. Along with that realisation came the steam stream of silent tears, ok, she wasn't exactly a spring chicken anymore but she wasn't entirely over the hill yet either and she was far from ready to leave the ones she loved and the idea that she might and that it would be her own damn fault hurt more than she could've anticipated.

Quinn pulled back from her best friend, hooking a finger under the Latina's chin and forcing dark brown eyes to meet hazel. "How long did you let it go?" Her words were firm but gentle. "Because unless you've been hiding for years, then I'm gonna guess we've still got a pretty good chance of kicking this thing. You and me. No one messes with the bitch goddess spectrum except the bitch goddess spectrum." She pulled Santana back into a hug. "Meaning the only way you're dying on me this early is if I kill you myself." She whispered into her best friend's ear, the remark far more serious than it was teasing.

Santana really did not want to answer the question, she knew she'd end up with an imprint of the blondes hand across her cheek or she'd have a shoe wedged up her ass. "A few months," she admitted quietly as she refused to meet Quinn's gaze. She knew she shouldn't have left it so long, it just wasn't something she was prepared to deal with, more to the point she had no idea how she was supposed to deal with it. A watery laugh managed to enter the air as the Latina clung to her oldest friend, "You can't be there for my kids if your ass is in prison," she pointed out.

Quinn sighed roughly, hand connecting with the back of Santana's head. "¡Idiota!" She hissed, groaning a bit. "What am I going to do with you, huh?" She shook her head, sighing. "Then don't give me a reason to, yeah? Cause you're not dying unless I kill you myself." Pulling away from Santana, she smiled. It was small and sad, but it was there. "You want someone to look after your family then it better be you, got it? None of this leaving them to me. I'm not letting you."

"Ey!" Santana cried out at the smack to her head. She knew she'd fucked up, especially if Quinn was resorting to Spanish, it just drove the point across. "How about not give me brain damage? I've already got a tumour chomping away at me, I don't need something else fucking me over," the Latina shot back. She tried to muster a smile but she was too scared of what may lie ahead, "I don't think either of us get a say in you letting me or not, Luce." She rest her head against Quinn's cheek, "I don't want to put my family through this."

Quinn rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Then stop being an idiot and we won't have to worry about me taking you down, now will we?" She ran her fingers through Santana's hair, sighing. "Yeah we do, we just don't get as much of a say as we'd like." She hummed a little, turning her head to kiss the side of Santana's. "I know you don't, and we'll keep this from them as long as we can. But, the fact is, it's happening and I'm not letting you put off getting this taken care of any longer than you already have. Because then you're risking putting your family, and the rest of us, through your death and that's so much worse than you just being sick. Got it?"

"Like you need an excuse to try," Santana retorted half-heartedly but still managing to stress the last word. "Well, that's bullshit," she grumbled, relaxing slightly at the soothing way Quinn's fingers ran through her hair before she stiffened at the thought that she could lose her hair if she has to go through chemo. "It's not like I want to die, Luce," she sighed, "I just...I don't even fucking know what I'm trying to say right now other than I hate you because you weren't supposed to know about this either."

"You're right, I don't, but it's better when I do." She teased. Moving, she adjusted how she was sitting so she could lean back into the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her. "Yeah, I know." She sighed before laughing. "You'll get over the hating me thing. You always do." She grabbed the remote and turned on the tv. "You up for stupid movies and Chinese take out or is that just me?"

[utgleekshq]

Have you seen Quinn Fabray on campus? Rumor has it that the twenty year old junior from Allen, Texas was born on May 28 and is currently studying English in the College of Liberal Arts. Her friends will tell you that she’s independent and opinionated, but they also say she can be judgmental and secretive, so be careful. Her endgame is Quinntana and fortunately for us, her role is TAKEN and unavailable for auditions.

Lucy didn’t have a terrific childhood as she doesn’t remember ever being close to either of her parents. Her father was often busy working and her mother spent most of her time with a martini glass in her hand or out of the house at the latest country club function, and as a result, Lucy spent many of her youngest years feeling unloved. Unfortunately it was only a feeling that was perpetuated during the hours she spent at school. Overweight, be-speckled, and victim to an absurd amount of orthodontic work, Lucy was teased mercilessly. More often than not, she’d hear her hated moniker “Lucy Caboosey” follow her down the halls of elementary school. It wasn’t until the summer in between elementary and middle school that everything changed for her. Lucy went through a growth spurt and began shedding her weight, begged her parents for contacts, and replaced her braces with removable retainers. When she entered her new school she was an entirely different person who chose to go by her middle name instead of her first name - Quinn.

During the seventh grade, Quinn tried out for the cheerleading team and, to her own surprise, earned a spot on the squad. She enjoyed the popularity boost being on the team brought her and put all of her energy into earning the head cheerleader position, which she did halfway through the year through merit and some minor sabotage of her competition. It was through cheerleading that Quinn met Kyle, eight grader and quarterback to the football team. He asked her out on a date after the last game of the year and while she’d never really been sure if they had anything in common aside from football and cheer, Quinn absolutely adored the positive attention dating the soon to be high schooler and football star brought her. By the time Quinn entered high school herself, she’d already been appointed Queen B. Girls wanted to be her, guys wanted to date her, and Quinn loved every second of it. Despite knowing from first hand experience what it was like to be picked on and teased, Quinn wasn’t averse to doing it herself. Being mean and manipulative was expected of girls of her status, so she had to be that way in order to stay on top and eventually even began to enjoy it.

Despite being the golden girl of Allen High, Quinn’s life was far from perfect. Even though her parents were barely around, they still managed to place a lot of pressure on her - especially with her older sister doing so well in life. She was expected to achieve top grades at all times while maintaining her cheer schedule, being active in their church, and volunteering regularly. Not only did she have to be everything for her parents, she had to be the perfect girlfriend to Kyle. Any sign of trouble and the rumor mill would start, their popularity would slip, and another girl would try to swoop in. Perfection became her aim and at times it left her impatient and short-tempered with Kyle and friends alike.  But no matter how frustrated she got, Quinn wasn’t ready to let go of her popularity and when she was placed on Yale’s waiting list, she decided to take the full cheerleading scholarship to the University of Texas; a place where she planned to get her undergrad classes out of the way before hopefully transferring to Yale.

If she had thought that high school cheerleading was tough, it had nothing on collegiate cheerleading - but Quinn wasn’t one to back away from a challenge, and she was damn sure not going to let herself lose her scholarship. Nor did she plan to disappoint her parents. Not only did she dive into her studies, but she also made sure to volunteer when the school hosted their quarterly blood drives and even attended the worship services at the non-denomination House of Worship on campus. Of course, college also provided her with other opportunities - rushing for her mother’s sorority, dating and hooking up (as she and Kyle had split at graduation when it was apparent that Kyle wasn’t going to be much more than a high school football star), attending school parties… Even on top of her busy schedule, Quinn made sure to take part in the college experience, because she knows that when she transfers to Yale? She’s not going to fool around.

SECRET:

During the years when she was being bullied, the only thing that kept Quinn’s spirits up for a little bit turned out to be video games. Her father got her all the systems she wanted and she could spend hours playing them. While it slowed down during her high school years after getting popular, she would still play the newest games and eventually started streaming them online under the name BeautyQueenGames. She would wear a mask to hide her face in case anyone she knew found out, and it unintentionally took off and is still quite a big deal. She even goes to TwitchCon while wearing her iconic mask. She’s shocked that it’s been as big as it has, and she still sets time out of her week to stream anything from horror games to Animal Crossing. She’s nervous what people will do when they find out someone like her plays games. She likes her status as the popular one and doesn’t want to ruin that by adding something nerdy to the list.

CONNECTIONS:

Blaine Anderson: One of the things that Quinn has continued to do, to help pad her resume for when she eventually transfers to Yale is volunteer - and one of those places she volunteered at happened to be the quarterly blood drive. It was there that she met Blaine, someone that understood the importance of giving back to the community somehow, and after that first time volunteering together, they’ve exchanged numbers so that when they do go out and volunteer, they can do so together. Apart from that, the two haven’t really hung out much - both of them having busy schedules - but she can tell that Blaine is a good guy and she holds no ill will towards him.

Rachel Berry: It was during her freshman year that Quinn happened to run into Rachel Berry - or, more accurately, Rachel Berry ran up to her. It was in the communal bathroom of the dorm floor she was staying on, putting on makeup, when Rachel came up to her and simply stared. It had been creepy, at first, and then Rachel explained that Quinn was obviously pretty and undoubtedly wound up getting boys to pay attention to her - so she asked her what it was she did to get boys to pay attention to her. Once the general creepiness of someone approaching her in the bathroom and staring at her wore off, she felt flattered and even sympathized a little for the girl, so over the years, she’s acted as a sort of listening ear for Rachel. It’s not exactly something she can give a definitive answer for - but she does try and at the least, she can be Rachel’s shoulder to cry on.

Sam Evans: Going to church was one of the things that Quinn was adamant about not giving up now that she was out of her parents’ house. Her relationship to God is important to her, even if she can admit that she may not have been the type of person God would have wanted her to be at times, so finding the non-denomination house of worship on campus was a necessity. There had been a few faces she recognized, both from cheerleading and from her classes, but it wasn’t until her sophomore year that she saw the freshman phenom - Sam Evans - sitting in one of the pews that she decided to actually talk to someone that was there. And, of course, everyone had been abuzz about the new recruit - and she certainly heard enough from Finn’s griping and complaining - but she found him to be easy to talk to and they quickly developed a bond over their religion. Now they make it a habit of meeting up before going in for service and sometimes they’ll even get lunch together.

Finn Hudson: When she had first arrived on campus, Quinn had told herself that she wasn’t going to settle down with any guy - that she wanted to focus on her studies and her being in college - but then she met Finn. While Finn initially reminded her of Kyle, given his status as a football star, Finn was actually, surprisingly, sweeter and kinder. Sure, he may not have been the brightest guy that there was, but he was handsome and he was attentive to her - most guys didn’t listen to girls, but Finn did. And while she appreciated his devotion to her, Quinn wasn’t ready to make their relationship serious so they kept things casual - only to break up every couple of months when Finn would get a little territorial and possessive over seeing her flirt with other guys. Currently they’re on a ‘on’ patch in their casual relationship, but Quinn can tell that Finn wants to make things serious with her - and Quinn can’t help but feel a little guilty.

Mercedes Jones: As a member of the sorority that her mother had been a part of when she had attended the University of Texas, Quinn knew that she was going to wind up rooming with one of her sorority sisters - as there was only so much room in the house - and to be frank, Mercedes? She wasn’t what she expected. But it turned out a lot better than she had expected, really, as Mercedes is definitely the ideal roommate. Clean, quiet, friendly and someone that she could connect with spiritually, too. Their friendship is not one that Quinn would have had in high school, she knows, but this is college… and college is about growing and becoming a better person, right?

Noah Puckerman: As a cheerleader, Quinn tends to know all of the players on the Longhorns roster - especially when they’re best bros with the guy she dates off and on. While Puck definitely reminds her of the high school jocks, the ones that just cared about getting their dicks wet, she can admit that he’s quite fun. The two of them flirt with one another, knowing that it won’t come to anything more - especially when she’s dating Finn - but doing it for the fun of it. And besides, his compliments make her feel good, so there’s no need to feel guilty over another guy just calling her beautiful, right? Especially when she has more things to be guilty for.

Marley Rose: Fitness is an important thing to Quinn, especially considering the fact that the cheerleading coach is strict about the cheerleaders and their regimes, so the gym is a place she can be found at often. It was there that she ran into Marley, a girl that had asked her for tips on how to workout and what the best workouts were. Truthfully, Quinn never thought she’d train a girl, but Marley was sweet and kind enough - and it was clear it took her some strength to be able to get up the courage to talk to her, so she decided to help her out. Now the two of them tend to work out together, usually with Quinn still giving the younger girl tips, and while Quinn wouldn’t say they’re friends, she can’t say she hates having her in her life.

Sebastian Smythe: With football came boosters and Quinn found herself often attending booster parties with her parents whenever they came into town. It was by accompanying her mother and her father that she ran into Sebastian Smythe, a kid similar to her - one with parents that were rich boosters and alumni to the school - and the two wound up lingering in a corner while the older folks schmoozed for more money for the school. It was nice, really, having someone that understood the world she grew up in, and eventually the two realized that Quinn’s sister, Frannie, had married one of Sebastian’s cousins. It’s not something that bothers her, not too much, as she knows that Frannie is happy with her life as a trophy wife and soon-to-be stay-at-home mother… but that’s not the life Quinn wants for herself, despite what her parents may want.