Log in

09 April 2011 @ 03:26 pm
Just some stuff that we already know. Some confirmations and a little bit new stuff. I'll put it all behind the cut anyway. I'm sure we all REALLY love @NicoleCrowther by now. :D <3
If you don't like minor spoilers, stay away...Collapse )
Current Location: My Bedroom
Current Mood: pensivepensive
Current Music: Somewhere Only We Know - Glee Cast
18 December 2010 @ 03:48 pm
Title: Who Do You Think You Are? [Part 3/?]
Author: believethis6
Pairing(s): Karofsky/cheerio Kurt/Karofsky eventually
Rating: T
Word Count: 663
Summary: Who did he think he was? He didn't like her. He kissed me, didn't he?
A/N:  I have somewhat an idea to where this is going. I mean I know some things I want to happen in the future. I got some inspiration from Katy Perry and Marianas Trench and Bruno Mars, so we'll see what happens. For now, I don't even know. Tell me if you liked it?




What was the world coming to? Me crying over Karofsky, and then, getting an impromptu phone call from the devil himself … and now what was I supposed to do?


First things first, how the hell did he get my number?


“How the hell did you get my number?” I reiterated harshly through clenched teeth. I looked around my room for invisible listeners, but came up shy of one. It was that prickly sensation on the back of your neck. You know, when you felt like someone was going to catch you doing something completely immoral and wrong and stupid. Yeah, that’s how I felt.

Because talking to Karofsky on the phone? Yeah, that was immoral in my standards.


“You didn’t answer my question, Hummel,” he sighed into the phone, voice a bit louder this time. Perhaps he was gaining confidence.


I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me and ran a hand through my already mused hair. “That’s none of your business, Karofsky. Now, tell me who you got this number from so I can personally chop off their limbs and bury them alive.”


A cough. “Graphic, Hummel,” he snorted, “As appealing as that sounds, I’m not ratting them out for doing a good deed.”


Thought he was funny, didn’t he?


Good deed my ass.


“Good?!” I almost yelled, but softened it, lest my father hear me upstairs. “How on earth would you call this good? I mean for you maybe, but I’d rather not speak to a psychotic bully like yourself.”


The line went silent again, and for a moment, I thought he had hung up again.

I was wrong.


“Why were you at school today?” he questioned. His voice seemed gentler this time around.


This kid must have a death wish. If I didn’t want him to have my number, what made him think I wanted to have a normal conversation with him?


I should hang up now. No wait, I need to get the last word in.


“Why are you still even talking to me?” I claimed. “I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, and I sure as hell don’t want to hear your voice. Leave me the hell alone, Karofsky!”


Yet as much as I wanted to hang up, I couldn’t find the strength to. My thumb hovered over the end button and then it twitched away. Huh. I didn’t actually want to talk to him, did I? That’s it. I’m crazy—completely fucking mad. This day was screwing with my head.


“Kurt…” Karofsky began. “I don’t care if you hate me, okay? The point is I don’t hate you—”


“Is that so?” I laughed condescendingly, but he cut me off again.


The point is, even though you left doesn’t mean I forgot everything, and I know I did some bad stuff—” I snorted. “—but I still gotta be concerned right? So, why the hell were you there and crying?”


He wasn’t making any sense whatsoever.


I didn’t know why I was crying, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Never. He would assume things. Disgusting and unmentionable things.


In a light tone I replied, “It had nothing to do with you, Karofsky.”




He caught it, “If it had nothing to do with me, you wouldn’t have been watching me from your little hiding spot. Don’t lie, Hummel. Just tell me the truth.”


It seemed the boy was getting smarter with my leave of absence. I couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing.


I can’t handle this! I’m not telling him the truth. Not like it mattered, he wouldn’t tell anyone anyway. So I could tell him— NO! Gosh.


I had no clue to why I would cry over Karofsky kissing a slutty, whorish cheerleader, and him ignoring his obvious homosexuality and crush on me. “I have no idea, Karofsky.”


When would I learn to keep my fucking mouth shut?


Current Location: My Basement
Current Mood: sicksick
Current Music: Grenade by Bruno Mars
12 December 2010 @ 06:00 pm
Title: Who Do You Think You Are? [Part 2/?]
Author: believethis6
Pairing(s): Karofsky/cheerio Kurt/Karofsky eventually
Rating: T
Word Count: 379
Summary: Who did he think he was? He didn't like her. He kissed me, didn't he?
A/N:  I tried to make a second chapter, but I think I failed. Where am I going with this? *sighs*


It really did hurt this much.


I didn’t think he’d acknowledge the small second he saw me that day. How would I notice anyway? It hurt too much to think about it, and I had no idea why.


So there I was, mulling over and sulking in my room, pillow over my head with a million sighs being repressed, and I was still trying to figure out what Karofsky was doing. What I was doing. Of course, I despised the brute, but in that moment today I felt like my heart shattered when I saw his lips on that cheerleader’s. Those were my lips just 2 months ago. Not like I cared though.


Gosh, I was so confused. So completely and utterly fucked in the head, and telling myself: “Why the hell am I still thinking about this?!”


Karofsky kissed a girl. Why? Don’t ask me, I don’t know at all. Just the thought of his lips made me shudder (with lust?) with fear. How they crashed upon mine, a wave of desperation and thick air full of suppressed sexual tension—on his part, not mine. The stubble of his chin scraped across my face in a way that was so completely masculine and hot—scary! I meant scary.


It really did hurt this much.


He must have noticed something today, perhaps the tear on my cheek or my heartbroken eyes because precisely that moment, my phone vibrated next to me. And when I found the energy to pull the pillow of my face and check the caller I.D. on the glowing screen, the number was unknown. Of course, I didn’t know who it was initially, so I answered.


“Hello,” my tear-laden, groggy voice answered. There was an intake of breath from the other end; then, the line went dead. I stared at the screen in my dumbfounded state. With a groan, I placed it back beside me and turned over.


Stupid unknown callers. Stupid kisses. Stupid Cheerios with swaying hips. Stupid Dave Karofsky—

The phone vibrated again, and I swiftly answered with a stronger voice, “Are you gonna speak or not, because I am not in the mood for When A Stranger Calls charades!”


The person spoke timidly, “Why were you crying?”


It was Dave Fucking Karofsky.

Current Location: My Kitchen
Current Mood: crappycrappy
Current Music: Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri
11 December 2010 @ 08:41 pm
Title: Who Do You Think You Are?
Author: believethis6
Pairing(s): Karofsky/cheerio Kurt/Karofsky if you squint
Rating: T
Word Count: 395
Summary: Who did he think he was? He didn't like her. He kissed me, didn't he?
A/N: Yeah, short little thing I came up with while listening nonstop to Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri. Maybe I can continue this as a story if I'm bored one day. It depends on the feedback I get though. 

Possibility of being a prologue.


Who did he think he was?

He kissed me.


Was it supposed to be this startling? It shouldn’t hurt this much. I hate him, don’t I?


But when I saw him two months later, the day I decided to go visit the New Directions after school, it nearly broke me. I had turned the corner, a familiar smile etched upon my lips, and stopped short. My head tilted in a confused fashion. There he stood. There he stood with a girl. In his arms. Kissing her breathless. Forcefully and painfully, his eyes clenched shut as if holding back vomit. Or was that my own stomach?


My mouth dropped in a silent gasp, heart clenched tight, and I gripped my bag like a vice.


It shouldn’t hurt this much.


He pulled away from her, a silent question in his eyes. She put her hands on the sides of his neck (choking him) and pulled him back down to her lips. He didn’t want it, did he? His eyes closed again firmly, pressing himself into her, making himself want something he could never have—fully at least.


I bit my lip and turned so that I was flush against the cool wall of the opposite hall, eyes wide and brimming with tears. I wiped roughly with my sleeve. Why was I crying? It’s fucking Dave Karofsky. He ruined my life. Yet it still made my throat swollen with tears and heart stutter and clench.


Why was he kissing her? She was a she. No? He kissed me. I was a he. He was lying to himself.


I peeked around the corner. The girl—a Cheerio—was now walking away with a sway of her hips. Karofksy watched her without fully seeing. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve (disgusted?) and turned. He caught my eyes, and in return his own widened and his mouth opened to speak. His hand reached towards me, a plea on his lips.


A tear finally breached the rim of my eye and glided down a soft cheek. I didn’t speak. Only turned once again and walked out of McKinley High.


I still didn’t know why it hurt. I was walking away. I imagined my lips being abused as they were. A shudder went through me, and my heart stuttered once again.


It shouldn’t hurt this much.


Who did he think he was?

Current Location: My Basement
Current Mood: lethargiclethargic
Current Music: Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri
06 December 2010 @ 08:46 pm
 Spent my night thoroughly ignoring my homework and watching The Walking Dead instead. That show is amazing. I can't wait until it comes back next season. Something about zombies amuses me, especially when concerning it a a potential world-wide epidemic, which is comical in itself. I hate blood and guts though; that's the only part that bothers me. The characterization is fantastic, so that's an added bonus.

Anyway, I'm going to post more later. Maybe write a poem or some inner monologue. Hey, at least I'm attempting at staying interesting. :]
Current Location: My Living Room
Current Mood: impressedimpressed
Current Music: Thank Goodness by Kristin Chenoweth in Wicked
Yeah, basically, this is my short and sweet introduction. Hi, my name's Holly, and you are? Yada, yada, yada...The world goes 'round and is made of pink fluffy clouds and love and puppies. I'd say I'm on here to write, and maybe I'll get to that eventually. Like me, hate me, you can say whatever you want. Friend me? Go ahead, I'll friend back. Friends are always fun to have. I appreciate good literature, and short stories, and poetry. I like broadway, and show tunes, but then I also like rock and alternative stuff. I'm a well rounded person, been to places, seen some things. I can almost like anything as long as it doesn't contain homophobes, abortion talk, peanuts, milk, or fish. (Yeah, I can get specific too.) So, there you go, what do you say?

Thoughts and/or comments? Who knows if I'll even get any.

Editing: In all obviousness, I love Glee, in case anyone cares. 
Current Location: New York
Current Mood: awake
Current Music: Firework by Katy Perry